"Protect the Primarch!"
The roar drowned out the clash of metal and the shriek of energy.
Takidin, commander of Primarch Saladin's Guard, saw the desperate straits his lord was in.
He swung the scimitar that had taken countless enemy heads, knocked aside a charging War Hounds warrior, and hurled himself toward the heart of the Primarchs' battle.
His Power Armour pounded over debris and corpses with dull thuds. His eyes saw only that blood-soaked black figure beset by two others, one gold and red, the other pitch-black.
Loyalty to his Primarch compelled him to intervene, even if his opponents were Primarchs.
Yet his charge never crossed that boundary.
Just as Takidin was about to break into the fight, an even fiercer, more blazing figure slammed into him from the side like a roaring locomotive!
There was no technique, no flourish, only the crushing force of sheer mass and speed.
"Bam!"
The dull impact was followed by the simultaneous groan of bone and armour.
Takidin felt as though a battering ram had struck him. He flew helplessly off his feet, traced a short arc, and smashed into a bulkhead ten metres away, his sturdy adamantium armour deeply caved in.
He struggled to lift his head. Through the agony and dizziness, all he could see was the giant who had sent him flying.
It was Khârn, dragging an enormous, ceaselessly roaring Chainaxe in one hand, its teeth still tangled with shattered armour plates and flesh from some unknown victim.
He stood between Takidin and the Primarchs' battlefield like an impassable bulwark of flesh and blood.
His blazing Visor lenses locked onto Takidin. His voice boomed through his vox-amplifier, mingling with the whine of chain teeth, seething with violence and excitement:
"Don't even think about interfering with my father's battle, scum!"
**"Your opponent