The instant Lorgar finished speaking, an answer came from deep within the fog.
A massive bolt of blinding, deathly white and indigo lightning burst from the lingering smoke and flames like a wild dragon breaking free of its cage!
It tore through the air and scorched reality, ionizing and annihilating every speck of dust, every fragment, even space itself along its path. With utter brutality, it proclaimed its wielder's survival and towering fury.
"Kill!"
Four voices rang out at almost exactly the same pitch.
Lorgar, Lion El'Jonson, Angron, and Curze—four Primarchs, four weapons of different forms—raised their blades together and aimed them at the heart of the erupting lightning.
Where their blades pointed, psychic energy surged beneath the surface, and the air hardened like iron.
Violent psychic turbulence tore the smoke away, finally revealing the figure within.
The Rangdan Emperor "stood" there.
Its former majestic form was gone, replaced by a seething, wildly unstable entity of energy.
The armor that formed its body was covered in spiderweb cracks. Within them was not darkness, but dazzling psychic lightning, bursting and writhing as though utterly out of control.
The lightning lashed everything around it, illuminating its own outline in distorted, flickering flashes.
A psychic pressure far greater than before, chaotic and filled with a hunger for destruction, rolled outward from it in every direction like a tangible tsunami.
Its inhuman face, seemingly formed from condensed starlight and the abyss, "turned" toward Lorgar, then slowly shifted toward Lion El'Jonson, who was retreating with Curze's support, and Angron, who guarded them.
Its intent to pursue was unmistakable, cold as an arrow.
"Angron, Curze, take Lion El'Jonson away." Lorgar did not look back. His voice was calm, yet carried unquestionable weight. He watched the increasingly unstable lightning around the Rangdan Emperor, his bronze face set