"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang—!"
Heavy, synchronized impacts, as though calibrated by the most precise metronome, erupted one after another across the silver platform of Novalors, which had never known the ravages of war.
Each impact made the sturdy composite floor tremble faintly, sending cold echoes of metal and discipline reverberating through it.
The Adeptus Custodes.
Dozens, then hundreds of giants clad in flawless, gleaming golden armor descended straight from orbit onto the platform in perfect tactical formation, like mythical statues falling from the heavens.
They landed with the precision of javelins driven into the earth. The instant they touched down, they brought with them a majesty as blinding as the sun and an oppressive force like mountains toppling, immediately clearing every area around the platform and establishing an absolute golden barrier.
Spears stood upright, great axes hung low, and gazes beneath enclosed helmets swept every inch of space like tangible searchlights, assessing every potential threat.
That included Lorgar, standing quietly to one side, the silent Hercules behind him, and the frightened residents of Novalors farther away.
Along the central axis of that golden barrier, two figures slowly stepped forward.
On the left was Malcador the Sigillite, his gaunt frame wrapped in plain robes. He held the Emperor's Scepter, the symbol of supreme power, and his face remained utterly placid. Only in the depths of those eyes, which had witnessed countless vicissitudes, did a faint glimmer of assessment and calculation flicker.
On the right stood the Captain-General, Constantin Valdor. Taller and more powerfully built than any other Custodian, he wore golden armor engraved with ancient battle honors that he alone was entitled to bear, and runes bestowed by the Emperor himself.
He stood in silence, like a living monument to war, radiating absolute majesty and killing intent that could freeze