Today's Misfortune: Mortarion and Trazyn

"I feel a little dizzy."

Sometimes I wondered about your definition of words like "a little," Hades.

The command room lights flickered on and off before finally dying gloriously with a series of sharp pops. Everything had basically been thrown out of place. A flung chair was embedded in the ceiling, while the command console's protective metal casing had been torn apart by immense force, exposing cables beneath that crackled and spat fire.

The observation window, capable of withstanding dozens of torpedoes, had shattered. Cracks spread layer upon layer, converging along the side of The Indomitable's bow, where something enormous was currently embedded.

Dizzy and disoriented, Hades tried to pry himself off The Indomitable's observation window. But damn it, one of the layers within the multilayered window had somehow become a vacuum, sucking him firmly against it.

The Pale Lord stood silently in The Indomitable's command room, staring at Hades—though Hades might have felt there was more speechlessness than anything else in that gaze.

Do you need help?

"No. I'll be fine if I lie here for a while."

Hades spoke. The intense radiation in the void would make him feel a little better, though the extreme cold and lack of oxygen were not particularly pleasant.

Mortarion heard this. He seemed somewhat hesitant, but ultimately chose to trust Hades. The primarch raised his eyes, and brilliant, dazzling light reflected in them.

Directly ahead of The Indomitable, something enormous was sinking forever. The sail-like, semi-spindle-shaped vessel had been brutally snapped in two, like a model ship violently broken in a child's hands.

Explosion after explosion erupted across the screaming, collapsing giant, sometimes blazing violet, sometimes bright yellow. Its skin, gleaming with radiant purple light, peeled away. As though it had entered the final stages of decay, it continuously vomited semi-liquid, semi-solid