Corax gripped Zagris's corpse and walked on, one step at a time.
His steps were heavy and slow, his boots striking the metal floor with dull thuds that echoed through the empty corridor.
His Talon Blades were still embedded in Zagris's chest, holding the lifeless body high like a conquered banner.
Blood dripped down the Talon Blades, leaving a broken trail across the floor that wound like a dark red snake.
Zagris's words still echoed in his mind.
After killing everyone else and leaving only Zagris alive, Corax had briefly stayed his hand.
He had looked at the Word Bearers Librarian, drenched in blood yet still standing stubbornly before him, and a complicated mix of emotions had risen within him.
There had been admiration, confusion, and an irritation he could neither name nor explain.
He had sought to force this pathetic Space Marine into surrender through overwhelming strength, to make him kneel before him and acknowledge his defeat, Lorgar's hypocrisy, and the Emperor's lies.
Yet Zagris had answered Corax with nothing but his spear and psychic lightning.
The Librarian had lost all his comrades and all support, and faced a Primarch alone. Rather than surrender, he had launched an even fiercer assault.
His Power Spear had struck like a golden viper, thrusting again and again at Corax's vital points.
His psychic lightning had poured down like a torrential rain, bursting into showers of golden sparks against Corax's body.
There had been no fear in his eyes, no hesitation, only pure fighting spirit.
That stubbornness had enraged Corax.
He had casually torn Zagris's legs apart.
His Talon Blades had sliced into the tops of Zagris's thighs as easily as cutting through tofu, then ripped hard, tearing both Terminator Armour-clad legs from his body.
Blood had gushed from the wounds like a