Khorvalen

A hail of bolter rounds swept through the command center. The assault squad had anticipated the enemy's counterattack. Several Ultramarines wielding boarding shields stood at the front, their heavy shields capable of blocking most bolter fire.

The bolter rounds struck the rampart of shields, a composite of Adamantium. They tore small openings before losing all kinetic energy and falling to the ground, pulled by the artificial gravity of the orbital platform.

The Ultramarines advanced steadily, closing in on the Word Bearers.

Until a power not of the real universe struck. The Word Bearers' commander: the adopted father of Primarch Loka, Khorvalen, who worshipped the gods of the Warp, unleashed his psychic might.

He exuded a chilling psychic aura. Dark energies from the Empyrean swirled at his fingertips. A mocking smile played on his lips. With a slight flick of his finger, the Ultramarines who had been shielding their comrades twisted and were crushed into a single mass, torrents of blood gushing out and staining the floor.

When facing psychic power, even Ultramarines had to pay a heavy price.

"Guilliman! I have awaited you for so long!"

"Scum!"

The Primarch of the Ultramarines witnessed his sons being brutally murdered. His rage intensified, and without a shred of fear, he lunged at Khorvalen like a meteor.

"Follow me, all!" Gage roared. The Primarch had charged too fast; even they, the honor guard, could barely keep pace.

The long-awaiting Word Bearers commander drew upon the chaotic power of the Warp. This command room had already become his domain. His pupils glowed with a deep light, and a vast area beneath him was frozen by an inexplicable cold.

Guilliman's power fist was about to smash into Khorvalen's ugly, wrinkled old face, killing one of the chief culprits of Kaos's destruction.

A beam of murky light struck Guilliman's cobalt-blue armor. Facing this power that did not belong to the physical world, the Primarch was helplessly blasted into the wall, creating a large hole in the metal barrier like a cannonball.

"How does that feel? Lord of the Ultramarines, this is the might of the Warp! The power of Chaos surges at my fingertips. What of a Primarch? I can still crush you!"

Khorvalen laughed with extreme arrogance. He unleashed another psychic beam, suppressing Guilliman, who was struggling to rise, back down.

Guilliman's face was pressed against his helmet, firmly connected to the floor. His muscles and bones trembled as he resisted the terrifying psychic power.

Gage, Hill, and other guards immediately attacked Khorvalen with bolters and plasma. However, neither the rounds nor the scorching plasma had their intended effect against his psychic power.

The Word Bearer merely waved his hand, and the bolter rounds were sent back exactly as they were, erupting in a rain of blood among the Ultramarines.

"The enemy possesses strong psychic abilities. We need the Librarium!" Hill roared over the comms channel, but this assault had not brought enough powerful Librarium forces.

More Ultramarines charged forward, sacrificing themselves to buy Guilliman a moment to breathe.

Khorvalen was forced to continuously use his psychic powers against these pests.

Guilliman rose from a pile of rubble, standing with great difficulty. His chest plate was visibly shattered. He coughed, spitting out blood and fragments of internal organs.

The Primarch realized that psychic power was immensely lethal to him, far more so than bolters and plasma.

"I never expected all of this to go so smoothly. All I had to do was wait here, and you would obediently walk into my trap." Khorvalen took out a ritual dagger made of obsidian. He walked up to the scorched Primarch.

His eyes, filled with malice and desire, lingered on the Primarch, as if choosing where to strike.

Guilliman's majestic armor was heavily damaged by psychic lightning. Black smoke that smelled of burning emanated from within the armor, and the servo-systems had crashed. The Lord of the Ultramarines could only kneel on the ground, at Khorvalen's mercy.

His guards were held back by other Word Bearers outside their duel. Some Word Bearers with obvious mutations joined the fray; they called themselves the Blessed Sons and possessed terrifying power.

"How shall I deal with you, our ancient enemy, the Primarch who once brought us such great humiliation?" Khorvalen's smile was irrepressible with joy. With a single, light cut, he could plunge the ritual dagger into the enemy's throat.

Even a Primarch could not be immune to such damage, just as they had done to the Warmaster before.

The enemy blade from Interex had sliced through the Warmaster's body. The power of Chaos would make these demigods created by the Emperor understand truth and guide them onto the path of rebellion against the false Emperor.

Horus could not resist, and neither could Guilliman.

But he was not satisfied with killing Guilliman; it was too wasteful and lacked artistry. This was a Primarch, a unique transcendent being in the entire galaxy.

"If I become your guide, then Erebus can no longer hold one over me. I think that's a good idea, don't you?"

An indescribable jealousy and hatred permeated his words. Khorvalen, infused and dominated by the power of the Warp, felt his emotions surging violently.

This made him more unrestrained and arrogant than usual.

"I will convert you myself. Submit to me! I don't mind having another adopted son. Hahaha, two adopted Primarch sons, who else in the entire galaxy besides me?"

"Remember to love Loka dearly."

Khorvalen raised the dagger. The short blade emanated a faint, evil power and unspeakable low whispers.

He seemed to see Guilliman corrupted, a primal truth-worshipper with demonic horns and infused with the power of the Warp.

Guilliman would call him "Father," just like Loka. When he returned to the Warmaster's flagship and presented a Primarch as a gift to the Chaos Warmaster, what a intoxicating scene that would be.

"You need to understand more. This universe is not just what you see; true truth is hidden behind the veil," Khorvalen said as he brought the blade down. "I will help you. I will be your guide. I will share everything I have."

"Welcome to Chaos, the rational Guilliman!"

Gage and Hill were desperately held back. The power of the Blessed Sons was too terrifying. They were in a desperate struggle and witnessed their gene-father about to lose his noble life.

The Chapter Master swung his axe wildly, decapitating a Blessed Son, completely ignoring the chainsword that another enemy swung into his back.

They tried to break through, but there were too many enemies, far more than the assault squad. These enemies were empowered by strange energies, reducing the effectiveness of ranged weapons. Only brutal close-quarters combat could definitively end them.

Hill was held back by a Word Bearer Sergeant. Nikanna, from the shadows, recognized the opponent's identity: the Word Bearer Soloth Cho'el, who had stabbed Lucius in the back at the very beginning of the Betrayal.

Nikanna took a deep breath and raised his bolter.

He entered a state of complete immersion.

Man, gun, and mind became one.

Nikanna opened fire!

The two great scumbags of the Word Bearers, Khorvalen, has arrived.