"Do I need to remind you that the Forge World of Kiavahr, along with its entire planetary system and all its subordinate factions, has formally submitted its surrender to the Imperium and declared its unconditional allegiance, Lorgar?"
The voice of Captain-General Valdor rang like clashing metal across the cavernous Docking Deck of the Emperor's Golden Dream, carrying a formal, unmistakable authority.
His towering body blocked the passage leading to the outer hangar. His golden armor gleamed beneath the lights, and although the Power Halberd in his hand pointed toward the deck, his stance was clearly meant to bar their way.
Behind his enclosed helmet, his sharp gaze fixed on the three men approaching with murderous intent.
Lorgar stopped.
The ancient Greatsword in his hand, freshly blooded, remained unsheathed. Its tip hung toward the deck, its dark red fuller reflecting an ominous sheen beneath the cold light.
He tilted his head slightly. Beneath his long black hair, the eyes that usually held either amusement or composure now contained nothing but frozen, seething fury.
"I don't give a damn about any of that, Valdor."
Lorgar's voice was calm, frighteningly calm, but every word was a blade tempered in ice.
He raised his eyes and stared straight at Valdor's expressionless helmet, as though his gaze could pierce it.
Half a step behind him stood Angron and Curze, like two silent mountains.
Angron had put his signature Crimson Faceplate back on. Both hands gripped his massive, slab-like Power Axes, stained with old blood. Energy fields hummed faintly along their edges, radiating an undisguised, savage hunger for battle.
His immense body leaned slightly forward like a bloodthirsty beast poised to spring, waiting only for Lorgar's command to tear apart every obstacle before them.
Curze seemed to merge with the shadows of the deck itself. At