Stitching the Rift

The engines of these war machines were bound to daemons thirsting for blood and slaughter, while their heavy armor and weapons had been forged from the souls of the most treacherous, glory-abandoning villains and cowards in the Milky Way—those most despised by Khorne.

They were both merciless incarnations of brutal war and direct proof that evil met its due. These contradictory impressions were fused into a single body, and the conflict and distortion were enough to make any mortal who looked upon them die of terror.

The Imperium's forces fell apart beneath the united advance of the war machines, while the Space Marines who had pushed deepest into the enemy lines found themselves surrounded on all sides. Space Wolves, Raven Guard, and White Scars fought shoulder to shoulder, struggling to hold out amid the daemon hordes.

"Where is the Legion of the Damned?" Trazyn asked as he watched the scene before him. "If Khorne and Slaanesh can display this much power, there's no reason Bacon can't. Is he gathering strength?"

There was no answer to his question, so Trazyn could only set it aside. Soon afterward, the warrior legions under his command appeared at the rear of the battlefield.

The eerie green glow of Gauss weapons stood out sharply across the battlefield. Daemons and war engines alike were torn apart beneath the radiance of the Gauss disintegration beams.

"Reinforcements from the Adeptus Mechanicus! It's the Adeptus Mechanicus! It must be the main forces of Agrippina's Adeptus Mechanicus returning!" Tovens poked his head out of the Emperor's Doomblade and shouted excitedly.

The Iterating Archmagos, who frequently conducted research and excavations, clearly knew more than the mortal Tovens about these metal skeletons wielding deadly weapons. Despair immediately engulfed him. He then ordered the remaining Skitarii and Knights beside him to turn their