Markoya
On the enormous platform, the World Eaters, clad in bloodstained blue-and-white Power Armour, took turns stacking up the heads they had claimed in the last battle.
There was no stench of decay in the air, only a concentrated, nauseating smell of blood. Perhaps they considered the freshness of their trophies part of the competition.
Blood stained the platform, which had been white as snow, and streamed steadily over its edges.
Below, the World Eaters watched with feverish eyes. Their Chainswords still roared in their hands as their trembling bodies endured the frenzy brought on by the Butcher's Nails.
The more they gazed at the trophies piled up like a throne, the more restless they became.
Once everyone had finished stacking the heads, the grand ceremony began.
"First Company, one million, one hundred and ten thousand, five hundred and thirty enemies slain!"
"Roar!!!" A thunderous shout erupted from the First Company of the World Eaters.
"Second Company, one million, one thousand, three hundred and seventy-three enemies slain!"
"Roar!!" The Second Company's cheer was noticeably weaker.
"..."
"Eighth Company, three million, one hundred and seventy-eight thousand, six hundred enemies slain. Exactly!"
"Roar, roar, roar!" The Eighth Company let out a tremendous cheer, far louder than any of the companies before them.
"..."
The warrior presiding over the ceremony began the next step: the company with the fewest kills would carry out the warriors' tradition.
"All warriors of the Second Company, come up onto the platform and begin the deathmatch!"
The Second Company warriors obeyed, stepping up onto the platform. They set down their weapons and removed their Power Armour.
Only some of them would survive this deathmatch.
Standing inside a circle surrounded by heads, they gradually lost themselves in the overwhelming stench of blood. Their bodies began to sway.
Then one of them stepped in a pool of blood.
Slap—
Everyone jerked their heads up and roared, "Kill!"
With eyes red as beasts', they pounced on one another, fists and feet flying. Every blow came with the crack of breaking bones and the rip of flesh.
One warrior threw a heavy punch straight into his opponent's gut. With a resounding thump, the other man was sent flying and crashed to the ground.
But the warrior quickly scrambled back to his feet and launched another fierce attack.
A fighter skilled in wrestling used the momentum of his opponent's blow to seize him by the collar and throw him to the ground.
A boxer swiftly dodged his opponent's attack, then struck him with a combination of punches that shattered his insides.
"Come on, hit him! Beat him to death!"
"Tear him apart! Rip out his liver!"
"Where the hell are you grabbing?! You can't grab there!"
"Poke his eyes! Poke his eyes!"
Even the warriors below the platform got worked up and started shouting. Some of them even began fighting at the slightest provocation.
"Come on! If you've got a problem, fight me!"
"You've got some nerve!"
With a bang, a Chainsword and a greatsword clashed, spitting deadly sparks.
The whole place descended into chaos. The warriors overseeing the ceremony had already charged into the fray. Blood flew everywhere, and some World Eaters died, a look of relief on their faces.
Angron sat high above them, resting his chin on one hand as he watched impassively.
Only when surrounded by slaughter at all times could he feel even a little at ease.
Then he sensed a force approaching overhead!
Suddenly—
Magnus's voice reached his ears. "Angron, you can still be saved. Francis is waiting for you on Terra."
Angron looked puzzled. In that instant of hesitation, before he could lift his head to look at the sky, a massive psychic beam struck him.
Rumble—
The terrifying blast blew the platform to pieces. The Second Company warriors on it were instantly reduced to bloody mist by the shockwave.
The ground cracked apart, and the violent earthquake jolted the frenzied World Eaters back to their senses!
A mushroom cloud rose from the platform. Just as everyone craned their necks to look—
"Magnus! I'll kill you!"
"Just you wait!"
Angron lay in the crater, roaring furiously. Rage had consumed his reason, and it seemed he hadn't heard a single word Magnus had said.
Far away aboard the battleship, Magnus had seen the same scene.
"Yikes. Just like Francis said. But you can't blame me for this."
"Should I explain?"
After quite some time, the earthquake finally stopped.
Angron crawled out of the ground, covered in dust, from a hundred meters below.
The Butcher's Nails in his head writhed, sending waves of excruciating pain through him once more.
"Ahhhhh!"
With blood-red eyes, Angron charged at the World Eaters below. He didn't care whether they were his own sons. He raised his Chainsword and swung hard, drawing countless screams.
Like a raging lion, Angron tore into every living thing in front of him.
Then—clang!
A warhammer collided with a Chainsword, and the man facing Angron was sent flying.
"Primarch, stop!"
"Wake the hell up!"
The World Eaters' Eighth Company captain, Kharn, spat out a mouthful of blood after being sent flying.
"Librarians! Where the hell are the Librarians?"
"Captain, we're under you." Only then did Kharn realize someone was beneath him. He'd thought he'd gotten stronger.
As Kharn called for the Legion's Librarians, that familiar energy surged toward them again.
Seeing it, Kharn immediately ordered all the warriors to fall back.
"Angron, Chaos did this! I'm not the one attacking you."
Once more, Magnus and the psychic beam appeared before him.
"Magnus!!!"
"I'll kill you!"
Angron's reason was completely swallowed by madness. He raised his Chainsword and swung at the sky.
Boom!
When the Chainsword met the psychic beam, it erupted in dazzling sparks and a powerful surge of energy.
The Chainsword's blade glowed red-hot from the relentless cutting, while the psychic beam gradually dimmed under the sustained assault.
At last, with a deafening boom, the Chainsword broke through the psychic beam and split it in two.
"Ahhh! You all deserve to die!"
Angron was completely consumed by madness!
Meanwhile, on Prospero—
After Fabricator-General Kelbor of the Adeptus Mechanicus finished a day of scientific research and was getting ready to relax, he spotted the Ork lie detector he had crushed underfoot earlier. Thinking of that painful memory, Kelbor decided to repair it and add it to his collection.
He'd show off to those old geezers later!
"Ah, what a waste to leave Second Brother's gene technology to the Emperor. He should be with me. The two of us could advance technology together."
Kelbor sighed repeatedly. After Francis left, he had tried to replicate the gene sequence of the "Ork Brain."
But he had failed completely. It seemed some special genetic material had changed during cultivation.
The thought left Kelbor feeling a little defeated.
Just then, several of Kelbor's assistants came over and saw him tinkering with a pile of junk.
"General, what are you making?"
"How come we've never seen it before?"
Seeing the fervent longing in their eyes, Kelbor was quite pleased. Holding up the "Ork Brain," he said, "Do you see what I'm holding? With this, we can greatly speed up our research into Ork technology."
"Great Omnissiah! This is a divine technique!"
"General, can we have one too?"
The assistants edged closer to Kelbor, metal clanking against metal as they stared at him eagerly.
Facing hundreds of eyes, Kelbor cleared his throat. "My Second Brother made this. It hasn't gone into mass production yet."
"Oh!"
The news left them a little dejected.
"But he'll make more when he has time!"
Hearing that, they immediately perked up. Then they noticed the repaired helmet in Kelbor's hand and asked,
"General! What's that you're holding?"
"This? It's an Ork lie detector. It's incredibly powerful. If you're not careful..."
As he spoke, Kelbor sensed the helmet's true purpose through the "Ork Brain."
An Ork perm helmet?
This thing was for giving Orks perms?
The red-hot setting was for heating, and the beeping was music?
Kelbor's assistants saw him stop mid-sentence and grew a little puzzled.
Was the general trying to keep it to himself and not tell them?
At that moment, Kelbor's neurons were all firing at top speed. At last, he reached an answer.
"Who wants to try this thing?"
Assistant Lukas Chrome immediately stepped forward and pounced on it.
"Me! Me! Me!"
Before you continue