Compared with the inefficiency of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Men of Iron had always built things at astonishing speed.
Within three Terran days, miniature starports dotted a third of the Imperium's territory.
Three Terran hours after each starport was deployed, the nearby Imperial Worlds suffering invasions by Slaaneshi daemons would immediately be rescued.
But while Imperial Worlds were being saved one after another, things were very different elsewhere.
In the Warp, the terror Slaanesh experienced was almost beyond description.
Ever since she had begun her campaign of revenge, everything had gone smoothly at first.
Those foolish mortal worshippers had obeyed her will and begun indulging their desires on a massive scale.
They had successfully opened countless Warp Portals throughout the Milky Way.
The countless daemons summoned by Slaanesh had long since become ravenous.
As more and more daemons crossed into realspace, the Warp Portals continued to expand.
Countless blasphemous sacrifices brought Slaanesh vast reserves of soul energy.
Every soul was filled with desire and the terror of its final moments, making it exquisitely delicious to her.
Soon, however, Slaanesh sensed something amiss.
All Slaaneshi daemons were, in a sense, extensions and offshoots of Slaanesh's own power.
Yet she suddenly felt a weakness unlike anything she had ever experienced.
She had never felt this way before.
As her gaze gradually pierced the obscuring Warp Veil, she looked beyond it.
Everything in realspace came into view.
"The Ultramarines?"
"No, the Dark Angels?"
"Mortal troops?"
Every battlefield where Slaaneshi daemons were active appeared before her eyes.
On numerous Imperial Worlds, all kinds of defenders were continually fighting Slaanesh's followers.
Bloodshed, slaughter, death, pain, and torment played out across countless worlds.
The power of all those emotions flowed steadily into Slaanesh, yet her weakness did not diminish in the slightest.
She could clearly feel