Kor Phaeron

A hail of bolt rounds swept out from the main control room. The assault squad had long anticipated the enemy's counterattack. Several Ultramarines carrying boarding shields stood at the front, their heavy shields capable of blocking most bolt attacks.

Bolt rounds struck the adamantium-reinforced shield wall, tearing open small holes before losing all momentum and being pulled to the floor by the Orbital Platform's artificial gravity.

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

Until a force that did not belong to the material universe descended. The Word Bearers' commander—Lorgar's adoptive father, Kor Phaeron, a believer in the gods of the Warp—unleashed his psychic power.

A chilling psychic aura radiated from his entire body. Gloomy energy from The Empyrean lingered around his fingertips. A mocking smile curled across his lips as he flexed a finger, and the Ultramarines using riot shields to protect their comrades twisted and crumpled into a mass. Blood gushed out and splattered across the floor.

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

"Guilliman! I have waited for you for a long time!"

"Monster!"

The Ultramarines' primarch watched his sons be brutally slaughtered. His fury grew ever more violent, yet his heart held not the slightest fear as he lunged at Kor Phaeron like a meteor.

"Everyone, follow him!" Gage roared. The primarch was charging too quickly; even they, his Honour Guard, struggled to keep pace.

The waiting Word Bearers commander drew upon the Chaos power of the Warp. This command room had already become his domain. A deep, eerie light glimmered in his pupils, while a vast area around his feet froze beneath an inexplicable cold.

Guilliman's power fist was about to smash into Kor Phaeron's ugly, wrinkled old face and kill one of those chiefly responsible for the destruction of Calth once and for all.

A murky beam of light struck Guilliman's cobalt-blue armor. Faced with a force that did not belong to the physical world, the primarch was helplessly blasted into the wall like a cannon shell, punching a huge hole through the metal barrier.

"How does that feel, lord of the Ultramarines? This is the might of the Warp. The power of Chaos surges at my fingertips. So what if you are a primarch? I can still crush you!"

Kor Phaeron laughed with utter abandon. He unleashed another psychic beam, forcing Guilliman, who was struggling to rise, back down again.

Guilliman's face was pressed tightly against the inside of his helmet, pinned fast to the floor. Every muscle and bone in his body trembled as he fought against the terrifying psychic force.

Gage, Hill, and the other guards immediately fired bolts and plasma at Kor Phaeron, but neither shells nor searing plasma had any effect against his psychic power.

The Word Bearer merely waved a hand, and the bolt rounds were sent back exactly as they had come, bursting into a spray of blood among the Ultramarines.

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

More Ultramarines charged forward without regard for their lives, using their own lives to buy the primarch a chance to catch his breath.

Kor Phaeron had no choice but to repeatedly employ his psychic power against these troublesome pests.

Guilliman rose from a pile of rubble. He did so with great difficulty. His breastplate was visibly shattered, and he coughed up blood and fragments of internal organs.

The primarch realized that psychic power posed an enormous threat to him, far greater than bolt rounds or plasma.

"I truly never expected everything to go so smoothly. All I had to do was wait here for the hare, and you would obediently deliver yourself to my doorstep." Kor Phaeron drew an obsidian ritual dagger and walked toward the primarch, whose body was blackened all over.

His eyes, filled with malice and desire, roamed over the primarch's body as though selecting where to cut.

Guilliman's magnificent armor had been devastated by psychic lightning. Black smoke carrying the stench of burnt flesh seeped from the body within it, and the servo systems had shut down. The lord of the Ultramarines could only kneel upon the ground and let Kor Phaeron do as he pleased.

His guards were firmly held outside the two men's dueling ground by other Word Bearers. Some visibly mutated Word Bearers had joined the battle. They called themselves the Blessed Sons and possessed horrifying strength.

"How should I deal with you? Our sworn enemy, the primarch who once brought us such immense humiliation?" Kor Phaeron's lips could barely contain their ecstatic smile. With a single light thrust, he could drive the ritual dagger into Guilliman's throat.

Not even a primarch could be immune to such an injury, just as the Warmaster had not been immune to what they had done to him before.

Back then, the anathame blade from Interex had cut open the Warmaster's body. The power of Chaos would make these demigods created by the Emperor understand what truth was, and would guide them onto the path of rebellion against the False Emperor.

Horus had been unable to resist. Guilliman would not be able to either.

Yet he was not satisfied with simply killing Guilliman. That would be too wasteful and lacked artistry. This was a primarch, one of the only extraordinary beings in the entire galaxy.

"If I become your guide, then Erebus will never be able to stand above me again. I think it is an excellent idea. What do you say?"

Indescribable jealousy and hatred permeated his words. Kor Phaeron, filled and ruled by the power of the Warp, was swept by violently surging emotions.

That made him even more indulgent and arrogant than usual.

"I will convert you with my own hands. Submit to me! I would not mind having another adopted son. Hahahaha—two primarch adopted sons! Is there anyone else in the entire galaxy like me?"

"Remember to love Lorgar dearly."

Kor Phaeron raised the dagger. An eerie evil power radiated from its short blade, along with low murmurs that defied description.

He seemed to see Guilliman after his corruption: a believer in the Primordial Truth, bearing demonic horns and filled with the power and blessings of the Warp.

Guilliman would call him Father just as Lorgar did. When he returned to the Warmaster's flagship and presented a primarch to the Chaos Warmaster as a gift, what an intoxicating sight that would be.

"You need to understand far more. This universe is not merely what you see. True truth lies hidden behind the veil." Kor Phaeron brought down the blade. "I will help you. I will be your guide. I will share everything I have."

"Welcome to Chaos, rational Guilliman!"

Gage and Hill were held back completely. The Blessed Sons' strength was too terrifying. They were locked in a bitter struggle, even as they watched their gene-father about to lose his noble life.

The Chapter Master swung his battle-axe like a madman, chopping off a Blessed Son's head while completely ignoring another enemy's chainsword carving into his back.

They tried to break through, but there were too many enemies—far more than the assault squad. Strange power empowered these foes, greatly reducing the effectiveness of ranged weapons. Only brutal close-quarters slaughter could end them for good.

Hill was firmly blocked by a Word Bearers sergeant. From the shadows, Nykona recognized him. He was Solot Chor, the Word Bearer who had stabbed Luciel in the back at the very beginning of the entire betrayal.

Nykona took a deep breath and raised his bolter.

He entered a state of complete immersion.

Man, gun, and mind fused as one.

Nykona fired!

The two greatest scum of the Word Bearers—Kor Phaeron had arrived.