The Power of Khorne (I)

Blood.

Thick, blazing, scorching blood, imbued with blasphemy and endless fury, poured down like a waterfall from the shattered dome of the Blood Palace, drenching the ruins of the collapsed brass altar and throne.

The air grew searingly hot. Every breath brought a stabbing pain deep in the throat, as sulfur and toxins burned through it like swallowed red-hot blades. Even helmets and filters couldn't screen out the cloying stench of blood.

The blood hissed as it struck their armor, corroding it and sending up crimson smoke, as though even the Power Armor itself were groaning in agony.

The Daemon Primarch Angron stood at the heart of the blood rain and sulfur storm. The pure will to destroy that shone in his eyes seemed to have become tangible under the influence of the Warp Rift. A single roar unleashed such crushing pressure that it could shatter a mortal soul, while shock waves spread out and split the ground with web-like cracks!

If the Daemon Primarch Angron had still been toying with them, still relishing the chance to torment and deceive them, then now he was consumed by nothing but unending fury and boiling bloodlust.

The enormous battle-axe known as Soul Ripper was engraved with Khorne's blasphemous runes. Its saw-toothed blade held the souls of all those who had died beneath this Daemon Artifact, imprisoned forever.

They could never escape.

They could only spin, tear, and devour one another in the depths of the blade, driven mad for all eternity!

Whenever Soul Ripper's core drove its saw-toothed edge into a blindingly fast spin, it didn't produce the roar of machinery. Instead, it unleashed a terrifying din made from the dying screams of billions of living beings—a sound powerful enough to rend reality!

"You can't escape—!"

Angron had lost all interest in