Horus finally struck down Abaddon, who had lost the sustaining power of the Four Gods.
Even with his head severed, Abaddon's unwilling gaze still erupted with furious, irrational madness.
Yet no matter how mad he had been before, it had finally come to an end.
He had failed.
Abaddon, backed by Chaos, had ultimately been defeated.
"The time has come to overthrow the tyranny of Chaos!"
Horus rose to his feet and discarded the trophy in his hand.
For him, there was no longer any need to display his honor through another man's spoils.
However, he took from Abaddon's hand the Centaurus Ring that The Emperor had once given him, symbolizing his position as Warmaster.
Horus began to reclaim command of the Sons of Horus.
He needed to readjust every strategic plan. He needed to summon every loyalist in the galaxy, lead those warriors and soldiers back onto the battlefield, and begin a new crusade of atonement.
Horus's gaze was resolute.
At the same time.
The Imperial Fists battling Perturabo were also withdrawing in orderly fashion through the Warp. On the battlefield of the Iron Fortress, Perturabo and the sons of the Imperial Fists fought another grueling battle.
Though they had paid a price.
Under their assault, most of the Imperial Fists ultimately fled the battlefield in disarray. Once again, they had proven to The Emperor through their own strength that the so-called Imperial Fists were far less valiant than the Iron Warriors.
Yet the withdrawing Imperial Fists felt no dissatisfaction.
Because they had completed their mission.
They had been facing the ferocious Iron Warriors. The enemy outnumbered them and, in a sense, had already surpassed them in strength.
Thus, what they had achieved was already proof of their courage and might.
Their retreat now did not mean they had