Stars glimmered like scattered diamonds against the deep black. One after another, Drukhari warships cut through the silent void, ghosting between the planets like specters from the abyss.
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At a glance, the warships had an elegant, streamlined design. Their hulls were covered in smooth, mirrorlike dark-purple metal. When stimulated by psychic energy at certain frequencies, the metal shimmered with flowing colors, as though the ships themselves were breathing and resonating with the rhythm of the universe.
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Inside the ships, Aeldari psykers and engineers monitored the vessels' systems through complex psychic interfaces.
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"Are you sure the creature who'll become the red Greater Daemon and destroy the Milky Way is nearby?"
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A Drukhari warrior spoke. They looked like a human, but taller and thinner, with longer limbs, perfect features, elegant almond-shaped eyes, and pointed ears.
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"Of course. Our calculations place him here. There's an extremely high energy reading on the planet ahead. Our target should be there." Another engineer ran the calculations at speed.
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That was right. They were searching for Angron.
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The Drukhari were a degenerate offshoot of the ancient alien race known as the Aeldari. They were also called the Drukhari. They were pirates, raiders, slavers, and torturers—extreme sadists.
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They had inherited the Aeldari gift for prophecy, too. Long ago, they had foreseen that Angron would become the red Greater Daemon who would destroy the Milky Way.
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That would threaten their survival!
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So, in the name of "peace in the galaxy," they had to eliminate Angron!
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In fact, they'd tried long ago. When Angron first arrived on Nuceria, they had sent a hunting party to capture him while he was still a child.
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Unfortunately, they failed. Instead, the entire party died at Angron's hands.
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But they had successfully worn down most of his strength!
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As for why they hadn't continued hunting Angron afterward, well...
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They had collected enough souls, so they'd returned to the Webway for a big party. They'd gotten carried away and kept enjoying themselves until, many years later, today—they'd finally had their fill!
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Now they would resume their sacred mission to save the galaxy!
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The warships approached Isstvan V.
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"Well? Is he here? Have you found him?"
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"Yes! He's here! He really is here, slaughtering everything in sight!"
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"We have to stop him—for the peace of the universe, for the Aeldari! Charge!"
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The moment they spotted Angron, everyone grew excited. The prophecy had been right!
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All the warriors donned their combat suits and piled into the Drop Pods.
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Clang, clang, clang!
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Countless Drop Pods fell from the sky. Then the Drukhari warships plunged after them.
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Boom! Boom! Boom!
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The Pods crashed to the ground. Angron, who had been tearing demons apart with his bare hands, looked at Francis in confusion. "Was this part of your plan, too? Are they our reinforcements?"
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???
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"No! I don't have a plan! Haven't you heard that plans never survive contact with reality?"
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"Do you think I've joined the birdmen?"
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Francis roared, then swung his sword into Fulgrim's arm before slamming into him. With a thud, Fulgrim went flying and let out a breathy moan. "Mmm~"
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When Francis turned back, he saw a crowd of bean-sprout-looking Xenos pouring out of the Drop Pods, shouting in a language he couldn't understand.
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They charged at Angron, firing poisonous crystal shells like mad and swinging darklight lances to slaughter every living thing in their path.
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At that moment, World Eater Kharn wielded a pair of axes, becoming a red whirlwind as he ground the Drukhari charging Angron into dust.
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The next moment, Horus's Son Abaddon swung his power maul at an Ork Boy who was fighting Eidolon of the Emperor's Children.
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"Oi! There's loads of big bean sprouts here, lads! We're gonna eat well today!"
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An Ork warrior piloting a Gargant charged the black bean sprouts, grabbed one, and started gnawing on it.
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Angron, too, raised Blood Father and Blood Son and charged the Aeldari warriors. Even without the Butcher's Nails, he still saw red at the sight of the childhood enemies who had once hunted him.
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"Aeldari!"
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"You're the reason my life was ruined! And you dare show your faces again?"
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"World Eaters, slaughter these Aeldari!"
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He bellowed and charged, his axes killing with every swing. Even when his opponent drove a medium tank, Angron knocked it over with a single shove, his rage unleashed.
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The World Eaters around him were so excited they could barely contain themselves. They waved their chainaxes and roared, "The Primarch is back!"
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"The Primarch has come back to us!"
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"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
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As the Aeldari warships prepared to strike again, Francis seized the chance to gather his underlings and shout, "Lads, that ship's a beauty! Let's nick it and turn it into a dinner table! Waaaaaagh!"
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"For the boss! For a flashy dinner table! Waaaaaagh!"
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The Ork Boyz wore Power Armour they'd scavenged from who knew where. They bobbed their heads as they gathered parts from the battlefield and cobbled them into a gigantic teleportation device shaped like a sewer pipe.
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"Yoo-hoo!"
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"Yoo-hoo!"
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Countless Ork Boyz charged in. The next moment, they appeared inside the warships in the sky. Before long, they'd dismantled the ships, which came crashing down among the fighting.
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Boom! Boom! Boom!
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Explosions went off everywhere, sending everyone scattering in every direction!
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"Bro! Stop chasing me! There are Aeldari here! They know how to have fun—they're the best at it! Go after them!"
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Francis grabbed the remains of a Titan from the ground and hurled them at Fulgrim, who was charging at him with his sword.
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Suddenly, Fulgrim stopped. He smiled!
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Fulgrim licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with greed. "Heh heh heh~ You're right. We should try them. The main course should come last. Slurp~"
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The Death Guard surged out of the original battlefield, releasing poison gas shells everywhere. The fighting had become so chaotic that no one could tell what was happening where.
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The Emperor's Children, Sons of Horus, Death Guard, World Eaters, demons, Orks, and Drukhari fought from the eastern hemisphere to the western, then back again.
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The entire planet was pounded by artillery over and over. Even its once-round shape had become noticeably oval.
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Giant Titans collided with one another. Wounded warriors were dragged into Dreadnoughts. Orks ate Astartes; Astartes ate Orks and Aeldari. Everyone was caught in the cycle of eating and being eaten.
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Boom! Boom! Boom!
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Mushroom clouds bloomed across the sky. Smoke blanketed the whole planet. Even from space, the gray-black world was lit again and again by bursts of explosions.
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No one knew how long the battle lasted...
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At last.
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On a mountain of corpses, green clouds swirled as Francis, covered in blood, looked at Horus and sighed helplessly. "Seriously! Why are you so determined to chase me?"
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"I'm not your dad! If you're angry, go take it up with him!"
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Horus grinned as he walked toward Francis, Worldbreaker in hand.
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Suddenly.
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Beep, beep, beep~
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Horus looked down, as if he'd stepped on something. He jerked his head up and roared at Francis. "You treacherous bastard! I—"
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Before he could finish, Horus was teleported a hundred meters away. Then came a boom, mixed with his screams. "Aaaaaah!"
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"Man... I didn't know Horus thought so highly of me! I beat him up and he still compliments me!"
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Francis rubbed his chin, unable to understand the consciousness of someone corrupted by Chaos.
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Then he went back to burying Ork teleportation mines in the ground.
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Sweet!
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Just then, an Ork head wearing a Power Armour helmet popped up from the pile of corpses. He looked excitedly at Francis.
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"Heh heh heh~ Boss, we've dismantled all their battleships!"
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"We made a gigantic bomb! Heh heh heh~"
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At that, Francis gave a demonic smile. The two of them tumbled down the hundred-meter corpse pile, then sprinted toward the Orks' new warship.
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The ship's prow still had decorations shaped like the Aquila and the Eye of Horus. The Ork Boyz had clearly dismantled plenty of ships.
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When Francis found Angron, he saw him sitting on a throne built from Drukhari skulls, both hands gripping his axe, watching the World Eaters still fighting.
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