The Sorcerer remembered his voice. Back when they burned Calth, the man's fury had left some impression on him.
This was a good blade.
"What did you see?"
the Sorcerer asked.
"An Angel—an Angel of Fury!"
The roar that came back was no longer furious, but filled with terror.
Then the squad leader's voice fell silent.
He was dead.
"What exactly is going on?"
The Sorcerer contacted every group he had guided. Either no one answered, or they died the moment the connection went through.
The other torpedoes carrying Chaos Space Marines should have breached the warship under his guidance, then joined him through teleportation rituals.
Why couldn't he contact a single one of them now? Why didn't I even know how they died?
And that Angel of Fury.
The Sorcerer pondered.
They were clear-eyed men who had seen through the False Emperor's true face. They would never call the False Emperor's hounds Angels.
Hm...
The Sorcerer's heartbeat quickened.
Something had to be missing.
An answer. I need an answer.
He looked at the scene in the mirrors. They showed nothing but cultists blindly making their way through the corridors.
Those numerous, inferior creatures could not bear his sacred will, leaving him completely ignorant of the current situation.
This should have been the path of hope bestowed upon me by the Lord of Change. The fact that I boarded this ship alive was proof enough.
Wait. What came after I boarded the ship?
Nine eyes began to tremble.
The Sorcerer suddenly realized that the so-called prophecy had never revealed what he would encounter after boarding. It had merely told him that he could board this cruiser alive.
What came next? What about after that?
The Lord of Change hadn't said anything.
He was familiar with subordinates being instantly cut down