A few minutes earlier.
Inside the Ork Gargant.
At the edge of the Gladiatorial Arena.
Anastasia sat casually on a relatively clean length of metal beam that had broken off a destroyed Ork War Machine.
With her silver hair and white clothes, she looked utterly out of place amid the filth around her, thick with the smells of blood, engine oil, sweat, and scorched metal.
Resting her chin on one hand, she calmly swept her azure eyes over the Ork Warlords nearby. They were red-faced and spitting as they argued, seemingly moments away from another duel. Her expression held an almost academic interest tempered by boredom.
After Lorgar and Amg had jumped into the Webway rift one after another, these Ork Warlords had briefly been left utterly bewildered.
The brief silence soon gave way to more primal urges. They began fighting over temporary control of the area, arguing over who deserved to be the first to jump in after them to "help," and settling a few old grudges.
Shoving soon escalated into insults, and insults swiftly turned into drawn weapons. Heavy choppas and Power Klaws clashed, spraying sparks, while their roars threatened to blow the damaged dome of the Gladiatorial Arena apart all over again.
"I saw dat rift first! I get to go in first!"
"Bollocks! A humie blinded yer one eye ages ago! You can't see squat! I was closest!"
"WAAAGH!!! Outta da way! Da most WAAAGH!!! of us goes first, an' dat's me!"
"Who d'you think you are? My choppa's bigger than yours!"
Just as these dozen or so green brutes shoved one another, on the verge of turning their argumentative "sparring" into a genuine bloody brawl—
BOOOOM!!!!!!
A sound far more savage and thunderous than the Orks' arguing suddenly erupted from the heavy gate on the