The raging power of Chaos was fully unleashed, completely releasing the demon buried beneath Fulgrim's emotions. Its immense strength was more than even Ferrus could handle.
Fulgrim drove his blade into Ferrus's chest, his eyes bloodshot. Ferrus cried out as he felt his life force steadily draining away. He dropped to his knees, and Fireblade slipped from his hand.
Looking at the grievously wounded Ferrus, Fulgrim raised his weapon. His hands trembled, his lips were pale, and ragged, uneasy breaths escaped his throat. He did not want to kill Ferrus. He did not want to watch his dear brother die before his eyes.
In that instant, the scene before him became incomparably clear. The battlefield around them was filled with terrifying cannon fire and barrages. Shattered steel and bone ash mingled with scorching earth, churning through the sky before falling as heavy black raindrops onto every warrior's armor.
Everyone had descended into madness, traitors and loyalists slaughtering one another. Horus stood atop the battlefield while his guard warily watched for Iron Hands warriors coming to attack.
A shell landed behind Horus, lighting up the gloomy sky above him. Black clouds formed of the dead and gun smoke outlined four indescribable silhouettes, and the moment they appeared, a shudder swept through Fulgrim's entire body.
"What have I done?" Fulgrim asked himself.
The next moment, the longsword in his hand swung as though it had come alive. He fought desperately to stop it, but he could not change the outcome. The Laer Blade smoothly sliced through Ferrus's flesh and bones until a head rolled free from the body.
The joy of a victor washed over Fulgrim's soul. In that instant, he truly felt a joy unlike anything he had ever known. But when he lowered his head and saw that cold corpse,