The golden glow of psychic energy flowed like gentle water, slowly receding from Lorgar's skin into his body.
The horrific wound at his temple, gouged down to the bone by the Khaine Shard's dying counterattack, was now healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Fresh skin rapidly grew back, shattered bones realigned themselves, and every wound vanished in moments without leaving so much as a scar, as though he had never been injured.
The Primarch's superhuman vitality and regenerative power were on full display.
The Khaine Shard's final blow, powerful enough to destroy a Titan, truly seemed to have been little more than a trivial scrape to him.
Lorgar rolled his neck slightly, eliciting a crisp crack of bone.
He looked down at the Warhammer in his hand, snapped in two with only half its haft remaining, and a barely perceptible flicker of regret crossed his eyes.
Then he casually tossed the broken haft aside, sending it clattering against the floor.
"Another weapon that felt right in my hands, ruined." He murmured the words with a trace of resignation, though his tone carried more of the settled calm that followed a battle's end.
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the devastated Temple before settling on the direction where Angron had disappeared. Concern and resolve once again surfaced in his deep eyes.
"All right, I have to go immediately..."
Before he could say the words "find Angron"—
Something changed without warning!
The space a short distance beside Lorgar suddenly warped violently!
The air rippled like water struck by a stone, bending the light into an irregular rift in the void, its edges flickering with unstable electrical arcs!
A foul gust blasted out of the rift, carrying the thick stench of blood, scorched psychic energy, and the ozone