Hercules lowered his head and looked at his enormous palms, covered in golden patterns. He felt the immense power beneath his armor, then glanced at the still-smoking remains of the Khrave Progenitor he had cleanly cleaved in two nearby.
A mixture of shock, ecstasy, and disbelief churned in his chest like Magma.
He flexed his fingers, his joints giving off deep, powerful cracks.
He raised his head and looked at Lorgar's back, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor of excitement.
"I'm... this strong?"
"You're getting ahead of yourself."
Without even turning around, Lorgar delivered the flat reply, instantly puncturing the fantasy that had just taken hold of Hercules.
He did not stop walking, heading straight toward the three remaining Khrave Progenitors.
As he advanced, the glow of Golden Psychic Energy filling the Bridge seemed to flow and gather at his will, trailing a faint streak of light behind him like the footprints of a god walking the mortal world.
He stopped about twenty paces from the three Progenitors, neither too close nor too far—precisely the delicate distance from which he could launch a lethal attack while comfortably responding to any counterattack.
He tilted his head slightly, his calm gaze sweeping over the three mummified figures still radiating an ancient aura of destruction.
The spectral blue arcs across their bodies flickered erratically now. Their featureless metal plates all "faced" Lorgar, and the air was thick with intense vigilance, assessment, and a trace of indescribable paralysis.
Lorgar raised his hand and casually pointed the tip of his Mace at each of the three Progenitors in turn. His tone was as relaxed as though he were choosing opponents in a tavern, yet carried absolute, suffocating confidence and indifference.
"All right, the warm-up's over. Now..."
"Next, are you planning to..."
He paused, a