An anomaly came from afar. Deep in the Caliban jungle, beside Lion El'Jonson and Mortarion, who were half-crouched in rest, a strange gleam burst from Lorgar's stitched-shut eyes.
Now!
the primarch shouted. The pages floating in his hand rustled as golden light flared brightly!
Beside her, the two primarchs were startled and cursed that bald monk in their minds for always making such a fuss.
Fire!!!
That forceful command seemed to still echo through the air. Weaving between the artillery pieces, tens of thousands of golden streaks arced through the sky toward the Dark King.
Heaven and earth trembled beneath that thunderous barrage, visibly shuddering—but in the next instant, something vaster and sharper tore through it.
A blood-red rainbow pierced the heavens! The ever-screaming, reeking spear whistled from one end of the sky to the other in an instant, like a dragon dancing through the air, charging into that half of the heavens filled with darkness and blazing gold.
At the far end of the sky, the Blood Bird beat his wings. His immense wings held him aloft in empty air. Blood trickled drop by drop from the arm that had cast the spear, and his muscles trembled uncontrollably.
That spear bore endless strength and unspoken words, questions and confusion, the bitter inquiries of countless nights. Yet none of it needed to be spoken, nor did it have to be. He only needed to sever His head, and the sickness in his heart would resolve itself.
And he was not the only one in heaven and earth who hated the Emperor as he did. Perhaps he was not even the one who hated Him most.
At the other end of the sky, a long scythe forged of gathering lightning twisted and roared in a manner Mortarion had never shown