As Corax moved through the Star Fortress, he was surprised to find that every area he passed through was deserted.
The corridors where sentries should have stood were empty, the passageways where patrols should have passed were silent, and the control rooms where operators should have been busy were pitch-black.
The entire Star Fortress seemed to have become a ghost town, with only the low hum of the ventilation system and the electrical buzz of the lights echoing in his ears.
His footsteps made faint sounds against the metal floor, unusually clear in the empty corridors, like pebbles dropped into a still lake, sending out ripples of echoes.
With a Primarch's instincts, Corax had already recognized this as a trap.
His instincts screamed in his ears, telling him to retreat immediately, telling him this was a carefully laid snare, telling him the enemy was waiting somewhere for him to step into the final encirclement.
He could feel a subtle tension in the air—the calm before a storm, the silence of a hunter holding their breath as prey approached.
But he wanted far too badly to challenge the architect of this trap.
His self-respect would not let him back down from a challenge, his pride would not let him flee from one of the Men of Iron, and his curiosity drove him to see just what this member of the Men of Iron, whom Lorgar trusted so much, was capable of.
He wanted to tear her apart with his own hands, to prove that even the contingency Lorgar had left behind could not stop his advance.
As he passed through another doorway, a Grail Battle Automaton's thermal saber came straight at him.
The blade traced a blazing arc through the air, carrying heat intense enough to melt steel as it slashed