"What?"
Omega's pupils contracted sharply in that instant.
He had not put his full strength into that thrust, but it had already reached a speed he judged impossible for anyone below a Primarch to evade.
The spearhead had targeted the gap between Abaddon's right shoulder and breastplate. If it struck, it would sever the tendons and nerve bundles in that arm, leaving Abaddon utterly incapable of continuing the fight.
His original intention had been to force Abaddon out of the battle with a grievous wound, preventing him from interfering any further and sparing Omega the need to kill him.
Yet just before the spearhead touched his armor, Abaddon's body lurched sideways, his topknotted head slipping beneath the blade's path.
The spear struck empty air, leaving only a piercing whistle in its wake.
Even Omega was shaken.
He was not renowned among the Primarchs for his close-combat prowess, but the speed and angle of that strike had far exceeded an ordinary Space Marine's reaction limits.
He had felled countless powerful enemies in the same manner. None had ever completely evaded it at such close range.
But Abaddon had.
At the critical instant, his body had dodged as if by instinct.
Omega froze.
It lasted only a fraction of a second, but in a battle at this level, any hesitation was a fatal opening.
Before he could readjust his stance, Utio's voice sounded over the communications channel. "Omega, leave them. The Space Wolves Legion has appeared on our flank. Prepare to engage."
"What?"
Omega's gaze snapped away from Abaddon and toward the sensor display at the side of the bridge.
On the screen, a new fleet had completed its passage through a warp rift. Its hulls bore the Space Wolves Legion's signature gray livery and wolf-head heraldry, and it was approaching the