Lorgar stared at his own blood, lost in thought.
The dark red liquid pooled in his palm, glimmering faintly gold beneath the light.
That trace of gold was exceedingly faint, almost swallowed by the crimson, but it was there, like a flickering thread shining through from deep within the blood.
The power of his soul was seeping outward through channels that had yet to heal completely, mingling with his bodily fluids before his struggling body coughed it out.
This body had only barely been revived, and the channels maintaining the connection between soul and flesh were still fragile.
His soul had not yet fully fused with his flesh. Each part was like a statue that had only just been pieced together, intact on the surface but riddled within with cracks that had yet to close.
He could repair those cracks, but he needed time and quiet. He needed to let that soul, so powerful it almost spilled out of his body, seep into every bone, every strand of muscle, and every blood vessel, little by little, without rushing.
Until then, he could not use psychic energy on an immense scale. Every use of those abilities capable of enveloping star systems and tearing space apart would rip open the boundaries that had yet to heal.
Even so, he was still strong enough to beat those Daemon Primarchs.
Though his soul had yet to fuse completely with his body, it was still his own soul, one that belonged to a being ranked among the strongest of the Primarchs.
Dealing with a few fallen brothers, bloated with the hollow strength of chaos, was still well within his capabilities.
As he thought, he used psychic energy to vaporize the blood in his hand.
The liquid sublimated in a gentle golden glow, becoming a thin