As far as the eye could see, the entire sky and land of Baal I were awash in blood-red.
The biochemical pollution that had once plagued countless mutant tribes no longer seemed to be a problem, because the corruption of Chaos had successfully solved that insoluble issue.
Yet judging by the Tyranid Swarm heads scattered evenly across the surface and the surging rivers of blood that had never run dry,
Baal I's fate would either be to become a Chaos Planet dragged deep into the Warp by Khorne's daemon host, or to be granted the warmth of an Exterminatus Edict by the Hero Tower's Planet Killer Cannon.
At this very moment, amid the peaks of Baal I's tallest mountain range,
upon a massive Bone Throne built entirely from countless Tyranid Swarm skulls,
sat an enormous and terrifying figure.
There seemed to be no emotional fluctuation on Angron's blood-red, hideous daemon face.
He forced his scarlet eyes wide open and coldly looked down upon the Bloodied Plains below the mountains.
There, a massive slaughtering brawl, waged endlessly by countless Daemons of Khorne, was in full swing.
Having stared at these familiar scenes for so long,
Angron, slightly distracted, seemed to have returned to the hellish plains of the great Blood God, a place just like this one, filled with endless slaughter and battle.
In truth, if not for the Butcher's Nails beginning to buzz every time Angron considered launching a full-scale assault on Baal's primary planet,
he would have long since been unable to suppress the murderous desire buried deep within his shattered soul and gone to have a proper exchange with his little brother.
"One-Eyed Ogryn, get the hell out here!"
"I smelled that psychic stench on you a long time ago!"
At that moment, Angron's blood-red daemon face remained