Heavy breathing, the dull thud of muscle striking muscle, and the hum of power armour servos echoed through the vast Duel Arena.
Beneath the towering dome, two titanic figures clashed fiercely.
Lorgar Aurelian, Primarch of the Word Bearers, and Angron, Primarch of the World Eaters, were engaged in another exhilarating bout of wrestling.
This was no fight to the death, but a contest between brothers, the purest collision of strength and skill.
Both had stripped off their ornate pauldrons and most of their protection, wearing only close-fitting training clothes as they fought in the most primal fashion, every blow striking flesh.
Sweat mingled with thin traces of blood seeping from scrapes at their temples, dripping from their sharply defined chins and splashing onto the polished deck.
Though they looked somewhat battered, fierce fighting spirit burned in both their eyes, and their faces bore smiles of genuine, unrestrained exhilaration.
At the edge of the arena, two spectators watched with equal concentration. One was Khârn, Angron's most trusted deputy, now promoted to the Primarch's adjutant. His arms were folded, his sharp eyes analyzing every detail of the contest.
The other was Rockefeller, Chapter Master of the Word Bearers' First Chapter. His expression was more serious as he constantly monitored his own Primarch's condition, though his eyes also showed appreciation for this contest of exceptional skill.
"Again!" Lorgar growled, abruptly stepping back to evade a vicious straight punch from Angron before surging forward once more.
This all-out fighting, devoid of any flourishes, intensely stimulated his nerve endings, bringing a pleasure that bordered on dangerous.
And he was deliberately seeking out and experiencing that pleasure, trying to maintain a clear will amid it.
It was a dangerous form of discipline. He was trying to master the primal impulses brought on by battle rather than