Sanguinius's Fear, Nimrod's Rising Hope

Head

"Sanguinius." Nimrod looked toward the figure in golden armor opposite him, the edges of his holy wings scorched black in patches.

"We have served as the anvil and drawn out the enemy's main force—the Wizard Idol."

"After this, leave it to them."

Sanguinius immediately understood that the "them" Nimrod spoke of was a secret even a Primarch could not glimpse—the Order of the Omen.

He saw Nimrod issue orders to the Shadow of Order to withdraw from the psychic node, and gave the same order himself.

Nimrod gazed into the psychic mist inside the craftworld, opened the vox, and issued an order to William Wood, lord of the 12th Chapter.

"Prepare!"

Spoils and the pursuit of the Aeldari were equally important.

Sanguinius saw his sons in blood-red armor fall back from the node area, then followed Nimrod's gaze.

The light dimmed with startling speed.

The crystal inside the Aeldari construct, burned and fused into glass, turned ashen and dull; great chunks of crystal from the collapsed dome were stained with shadow...

Four Reaver Titans then came into view, their great strides dragging afterimages behind them.

Ripples of time undulated. The unmarked Reaver Titans were as swift as the elegant Aeldari Titans.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...

Dark light leaped up and crashed into the sunlight fired from the elegant spears of the Aeldari Titans.

Light and darkness collided. The explosion was enough to destroy an entire Hive City, yet it made not the slightest sound.

Dead, silent darkness annihilated and devoured everything around it, swallowing light and sound. Shards of Wraithbone and shattered Plasteel armor plates melted into strands of ominous shadow.

Sanguinius looked toward Nimrod. Could he have the gift of foresight as well?

Had Nimrod not warned them, the Astartes would have been torn to pieces in that devastating