(Thanks to Tipao Bro from Red Alert 08 for the generous Supreme Certification gift. Today's extra updates are now complete.)
"You must be joking..."
Vulkan's trembling voice rang through the tomb. His warhammer was raised high, and "Plaguebearer," wreathed in green plague energy, came crashing toward Lorgar's head inside the sarcophagus with overwhelming force.
The hammerhead traced an arc through the air, bearing the curses of seven Great Unclean Ones as it hurtled straight toward Lorgar's face.
Just as the warhammer was about to fall, Lorgar's tightly closed eyes slowly opened.
His golden irises resembled molten gold, and blazing white light burned within his pupils. That light held a power beyond human comprehension, a majesty that could make even the gods take notice.
The instant those eyes opened, they locked onto the warhammer descending overhead, then onto the corrupted figure wielding it.
Boom!
The warhammer froze barely a dozen centimeters from Lorgar's face. No matter how hard Vulkan pushed, he could not force it down even a millimeter.
Veins bulged along Vulkan's arms. Empowered by Nurgle's energy, his muscles swelled to their limit, and he threw his entire weight onto the haft, but the warhammer did not budge.
"Damn it!"
Corax's voice rang out from the tomb's entrance.
He watched Lorgar slowly open his eyes, and a flicker of anxiety crossed his own eyes, which burned with dark red flames.
He swallowed involuntarily, his Adam's apple bobbing as a faint gulp escaped his throat.
A bead of sweat slid down his cheek.
It was cold sweat, something that should have been impossible for a Primarch who had already attained daemonhood.
His body had been transformed by Chaos energy, his physiological functions replaced by the power of the Warp. He should no longer have sweated or displayed any mortal bodily response.