I would even possess power to rival a Primarch

Warhammer: The Black Emperor, Chapter 1243

The distance to the ground in Taran is 4,800 kilometers.

"Falk, Lord Frix has sent a communication ordering you to immediately return to the surface evacuation zone."

The adjutant gazed at the cold, ruthless back of the Tyrant Terminator.

"Father----"

Baben Falk stopped in his tracks, turned around, and lowered his head.

He has left the secret chamber and has already set off to return.

Two cold glints leaped from the darkness and struck Falk's eyes.

A chill spread rapidly from his eyes, engulfing Falk's entire body in an instant.

He knew that if he continued down this path, he would be defying not only the Blade of the Spear of the Trident, but also his Primarch.

The Lord of Iron will not forgive him; he will suffer a more severe punishment than Barabbas Dantioch.

He would no longer be part of the Trident, and he would even be Deprivation of his title as Warsmith and his command of the 126th Battalion.

But can he afford to miss this opportunity?

That was a power that even the Primarch Genesis coveted.

Once mastered, it will surpass all Iron Warriors.

Frix was nothing but a piece of scrap metal.

[I might even possess power comparable to the Primarch.]

"Keep going."

"Yes, sir!" the adjutant replied uneasily.

Falk strode forward, yellow Threat Rune flashing through his vision.

Something was moving rapidly in the dim light in the distance.

Falk's eyes widened. "Accelerate!"

We must find the Curse!

The Iron Warriors quickened their pace, their heavy footsteps echoing in the Silence air.

The tactical icons spun on the Eyepiece, telling him that the surrounding air was crisp and cold, accompanied by some unknown, unusual chemical substance.

Falk's armor emitted a cold mist, and sticky tentacles wrapped around his body.

His heart pumped adrenaline into his limbs, and his blood surged.

Exposed Lumen Lamp strips extend along the center of the passageway into the distance, where a reinforced Ceramite door appears at the end.

Falk raised his left arm and entered the Keycode retrieved from the ruins' data stack onto the console on the side of the gate.

Smoke billowed up, the door slid open, revealing smooth Chalk inside the passageway.

His boots crushed the warning signs as he strode into the tunnel.

Falk quickened his pace, passing through passage after passage, leaving behind increasingly frequent warning signs.

The mist lingered at the edge of his vision, as if it would move with every step he took.

As the air and light changed, details in the corners of the walls and distant objects became blurred.

The shadows in the recessed area resembled piled-up black clothes, tugging at his consciousness.

Falk could sense that his Superhuman Brain had drifted off five times.

Every time he concentrates, he finds himself unconsciously taking several extra steps.

Every time he forces his attention to focus on the present moment, it slips away again.

He didn't ask whether the Iron Warriors beneath him were affected, something that would awaken them in his vulnerable moment of disobeying orders.

Fear.

The fear of punishment from the Lord of Iron.

The silence deepened, and the fog grew thicker.

The gate opened.

An Iron Warriors habitually raised his gun and stepped through the gate.

A splash of blue caught my eye, and a dull sense of Shock rose up my spine.

The Iron Warriors's senses sharpened in a chill, and he and the Ultramarines pulled the trigger simultaneously.

Two bursts of explosive shells roared out, slamming into each other against the Mark III Power Armor, creating bursts of flame.

The deafening explosion ripped at the sensitive nerves of the Rogue Trader Sangre, fueling his adventurous spirit.

The mistress of the Golden Fleet awoke from a dazed state.

She looked around and saw a group of Iron Warriors walking side by side through the gate, their steps perfectly synchronized, their Bolter firing in unison at the Ultramarines.

Dust flew everywhere, and smoke filled the air.

As if a mirror had shattered, the Iron Warriors and the Ultramarines fell to the ground simultaneously amidst the intertwined firepower.

Sangre raised the Archaeotech Pistol made in ancient Terra, aimed it at the Iron Warriors in the center, and pulled the trigger.

Collected from the Moray the Veil, from Broken Star, molten flow from its leaking core shot out.

The dazzling rays overwhelmed the light from the overhead Lumen Lamp.

Boom!

The scorching molten liquid pierced through the breastplate of the Mark III Iron Pattern armor, and the Iron Warriors's body exploded into a pile of charred remains.

Bang!

The body crashed down.

A towering Iron Warriors bursts into view.

He could still be called a giant among the Astartes; apart from Gise, one of the Oldest One seven of the XIV Legion, no one in the Astartes was taller than him.

The Ultramarines lunged at him, his combat blade flashing, piercing the Tyrant-pattern Terminator armor.

The Tyrant-pattern Terminator charged forward without slowing down in the slightest, its massive body savagely slamming into the Ultramarines.

The Mark's Power Armor dented upon impact, and the Ultramarines staggered backward.

The Tyrant-pattern Terminator raised its arm, and a burst of eerie light erupted from its Power Fist.

Sangre stared at the Great Beast -like body: a giant, Tyrant-pattern Terminator, Power Fist—

Fukumoto Balk!

She pressed the Communication Bead and sent a message to Wilshire, the Chapter Master of the Second Legion of the "Shadow of Order".

"Lord of Light."

"Encounter with Fukumoto Balk."

"I need support!"

"Ms. Sangre," Wilshire's voice was gentle yet firm, "Teleport coordinates."

Sangre immediately sent the beacon to Wilshire, released the Communication Bead, and looked ahead.

Falk strode forward, swinging his arms continuously.

An Ultramarines's helmet was smashed to pieces, Eyepiece flew out, and blood mist burst from his broken eye socket.

As he fell backward, he raised his Bolter.

Falk swung his arm, the Bolter exploded, and the Ultramarines was flung away like a rag doll.

Bang bang bang----

A barrage of bullets struck the Tyrant-pattern Terminator, sending Mars flying everywhere.

Falk bent his arm to cover his face.

He strode forward and delivered Power Fist.

Bang!

The Cobalt Armor shattered, and the Ultramarines exploded into a pool of blood mist.

"Black Stars, Black Stars ----"

Sangre followed the sound and turned to look at her Chief Astropath.

The Astropath's hands trembled as he wrote down the words he had been repeating over and over in High Gothic.

Sangre glanced at the circular gate, then slowly turned around and drew the Xenos Blade from her waist.

Now that she has discovered the terrifying taboo hidden within Taran, she is determined not to let Falk obtain it.

Sangre raised her right arm, Archaeotech Pistol fired a stream of intense flame, striking Falk squarely in the face.

Bang!

The helmet shattered, revealing Falk's ferocious face.

His once-smooth head was now completely black, and drops of blood from his forehead stained his upright beard.

Falk lowered his head and stared at the female Rogue Trader.

He ducked forward, dodging the second stream of flames.

Boom!

Power Fist slammed into the chest of an Ultramarines, and his large hand lifted the cobalt blue corpse as he charged toward Sangre.

"Sizzle!"

The Brainy Cat's fur stood on end, and Falk's body slowed down more and more, as if sinking into a quagmire of time.

Sangre charged toward Falk, Xenos Rune erupted with a series of dazzling lights.

The blade sliced through the Tyrant-pattern Terminator armor and struck the Iron Warriors.

Falk looked down at the blood splattered on his waist.

He swung his right arm, his fist cracking as he slammed it towards Sangre.