Inside the museum hall, silence replaced the previous clamor of battle.
Fulgrim's clone stood tall, his body subtly tensed. His perfect violet eyes were locked on the petite figure perched atop the hole in the dome—Pandora—and the Void Dragon beneath her, which still radiated a soul-chilling pressure despite its reduced size.
The primarch's senses screamed warnings, telling him that these two beings were far more dangerous than the sea of Tyranids from before. Even the pride ingrained deep in his genes sensed an indescribable threat.
They seemed like two walking natural disasters, their very existence warping the reality around them.
Without drawing attention, he adjusted his stance, ready to face any possible attack while shielding the fragile human survivors behind him—though they did not trust him.
"Hmm, little Igla sure moves fast." Pandora swung her legs, seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere below—or rather, she simply did not care.
She patted the Void Dragon's head. "Big Dragon, should we go find something else fun to do? This tin can's home doesn't seem to have anything more interesting."
The Void Dragon let out a deep growl, full of disdain for Trazyn's collection.
Just then, fresh activity came from several entrances to the hall.
A steady, rhythmic set of footsteps came first from the passage on the left.
A group slowly entered the hall. Though their blue-and-gold armor bore the marks of battle, it remained striking.
At their head was a Space Marine officer with a composed demeanor and sharp eyes. The insignia on his shoulder plate identified him as a senior Ultramarines commander—Kalanti.
Behind him followed a squad of Ultramarines and three battered yet fiercely determined Contemptor Dreadnoughts. The heavy footsteps had come from those ancient war machines.
They had relied on their own strength to defeat the guards and scattered