His cold feet stepped into the viscous pool of demon blood, producing a heart-chilling splat.
Doom Slayer ignored the horrific melted damage to the ends of his arms. His battered figure was like a ghost come to claim lives as he walked, step by step, toward the ruins burying Angron.
Every step carried the rhythm of an ending.
Lion watched that incarnation of destruction with a complicated gaze, which finally settled on the ruins.
Angron... what would his end be?
Crash!
A twisted metal plate was pushed aside by an invisible force.
Angron's shattered body was exposed before everyone.
Even the battle-hardened Dark Angels could not help drawing a sharp breath at the sight.
This World Eaters Primarch was barely recognizable as human.
His two thick demonic arms had been torn off at the roots, and the lava-like blood at the stumps had long congealed into ugly blackened scabs.
His lower body was in even worse condition. His right leg was gone from the base of the thigh, while his left leg was twisted at a grotesque angle, white broken bone piercing through shattered armor.
Several enormous, horrifying holes ran straight through his chest and abdomen. Through them, the cracked alloy floor beneath him could even be seen.
Most terrifying of all was his head—half his skull was missing, exposing corroded brain tissue within. His sole remaining eye was dim and lifeless, veined with blood.
Yet just as Doom Slayer's figure, wreathed in the aura of destruction, stopped before him and its shadow completely engulfed him—
Angron's bloodshot eye actually turned with difficulty, slowly focusing on Doom Slayer's cold face.
There was no fear, no rage, no madness in that eye... only an almost illusory, indescribable calm.
There was even... the faintest hint of a smile?
Lion's heart suddenly clenched!