"Harald! Harald! What's going on? What happened over there? Harald!"
Cestus's voice poured through the communications channel, like a current passing through the void that linked him to the Shadow of the Emperor.
"Harald! Answer me!"
There was only static on the communications channel.
Cestus stood in the Sector Fortress's command headquarters, his eyes fixed on the signal marker that had turned gray on the main screen.
He repeated the call three times. Each time, the response was the same empty silence.
Harald lay in a pool of blood.
His powerful body had collapsed into an unnatural position on the bridge floor. Blood still flowed from the sword wound that pierced his chest and exited his back.
Blood seeped from the wound, forming a slowly expanding black pool on the floor.
His eyes had not fully closed, but his pupils no longer held any focus.
His final gaze had frozen on the Word Bearers fleet emerging from a warp jump on the flank of the Bakka battlefield.
He had never managed to finish that last sentence. His communicator remained open, but nothing remained on the channel except the hiss of static.
Some of the Space Wolves who had stormed the bridge with him were still locked in combat with the last few Sons of Horus warriors. By the time they realized their commander had fallen, it was already too late.
Corax stood behind Harald's body, his head slightly bowed as he watched the corpse grow cold.
He slowly withdrew the blade embedded in Harald's body. A long trail of blood droplets hung from its tip, gleaming dark red beneath the bridge's surviving lights.
He raised the sword, holding its blade at an angle before his helmet.
Then his black-helmeted face tilted slightly, and his tongue gently licked the blood from