In the empty, deathly still alternate dimension, the figure draped in the radiance of the Stars had barely "manifested" before the vast, cold, hollow psychic pressure emanating from its very existence flooded the entire bizarre Spherical Space like an invisible tide.
Its bearing was elegant and composed, as though this were not a battlefield, but its court.
"Great Primarch..." a voice rang out.
It did not travel through vibrations in the air, but echoed directly and clearly within Lorgar's and Mortarion's minds.
The voice had a strange texture, blending cold metallic echoes with the deep cadence of some inhuman intelligence. Its tone carried a trace of undisguised, almost mocking flattery.
"Thank you for still remembering my name."
The words—merely words—had not even finished settling in their minds when—
"Hiss!! Boom!!!"
A searing white plasma beam, hot enough to vaporize adamantium in an instant, brutally tore through the seemingly frozen silence of this "space" without warning. Its nearly straight trajectory carried it directly toward Apophis's indistinct face, concealed beneath ornate armor and streaming nebular light!
It was Mortarion.
The moment the other being uttered its first word, killing intent had already solidified in the Death Guard Primarch's gray-brown eyes, which resembled dried-out marshes.
He made no unnecessary movements, gave no warning, and did not even glance at Lorgar.
His arm, concealed beneath his respirator mask, rose, aimed, and pulled the trigger in one fluid motion, moving so quickly it left an afterimage.
The Plasma Pistol at his waist, painstakingly calibrated by Tech-Priests and powerful enough to punch through a heavily armored vehicle, charged and fired within a hundredth of a second.
Efficient, direct, lethal.
To Mortarion, words were unnecessary, and probing was a waste.
Once something had been identified as an enemy, all he needed to do was physically silence it