After the Daemon Primarch's Butcher's Nails were seized, he did not immediately lose his fighting ability or feel unbearable pain as Clone Angron had expected.
Instead, it enraged the Daemon Primarch, making him let out a deafening roar in his fury that sent dust spraying from the ground around him.
The roar was followed by an uppercut, a solid, thick crimson fist slamming into the clone's jaw.
The clone Primarch's body was far from frail, but the enraged Daemon Primarch shattered the bones in the lower half of his clone's face with a single punch.
Blurred flesh and bone fragments mixed together, a particularly gruesome sight.
Clone Angron was nearly knocked unconscious by that blow, yet he still clung desperately to the Daemon Primarch's Butcher's Nails.
"You worthless imitation!"
"I could tear you to pieces even while grievously wounded!"
As the Daemon Primarch roared, he threw his head back, then smashed it down like a Gravity Hammer against the clone's already mangled face.
The blow dealt catastrophic damage to the clone's brain. Everything he saw, heard, and felt seemed to skip out of sequence in an instant, like dropped frames. By the time he recovered, two seconds had passed.
His body was nearly torn apart from the spot where the Daemon Primarch had seized him, and his consciousness blurred intermittently.
At that critical moment, strength once again flooded Clone Angron's body. He slammed his head into the snarling face of his original self, pulling nearly half of the Butcher's Nails free in the process.
The moment he had first seen his original self, Clone Angron had felt that the disgusting thing called the Butcher's Nails could not possibly still work on this creature, even if it still looked like nails driven into his skull.
But apparently because of the profound