Research Results

Abaddon felt there was a damned xenos beneath those robes, but he could not simply draw his blade and cut someone down in front of Carl Bohar.

Abaddon suppressed his killing intent and looked at the neatly standing pale Space Marines, asking whose troops they were.

"They can be mine, or they can be yours," Carl Bohar replied. "Why not come closer and take a look?"

Frowning, Abaddon stepped closer. He discovered that these pale Space Marines bore no paint or decorations whatsoever. Their armor looked more like bone than metal.

"Try this." Carl Bohar handed him a bolt pistol. Abaddon aimed at one pale Space Marine's head and pulled the trigger.

When the bolt struck the bone-textured helmet, it shattered much like cracked marble. Yet the bone fragments did not scatter across the ground. Blue and black matter flowed from the fissures, sticking the damaged cracks back together.

"These aren't Space Marines!" Abaddon glared furiously at Carl Bohar, raising his voice as the armor over his entire body hummed. "This is blasphemy against our Legion! Against our Primarchs!"

Carl Bohar was not afraid of Abaddon. He straightened his hunched body, and in terms of sheer presence, he did not yield to Abaddon in the slightest.

The Forge General who had ignited Mars's civil war and split the Adeptus Mechanicus was loyal only to the former Wolf King, not to some insignificant company captain beneath the Wolf King.

"Blasphemy?" Carl Bohar's tone was mocking. "You yourselves are products of technology. What blasphemy could there possibly be? You are merely the false Emperor's biological weapons, fortunate enough to have gained independent consciousness."

"What did you say?"

With a clang, Abaddon drew the daemon sword Drach'nyen. The veterans of ten thousand wars who had accompanied him also formed a battle formation, their