Abaddon's Defeat at Huarong Road

Perturabo had always ranked near the bottom among his brothers in height; only Alpharius stood below him.

Once the short, stocky Lord of Iron donned that specially made Terminators Power Armour, he became as unstoppable as a walking heavy tank.

But now Perturabo stood only sixty centimeters tall. Even standing on the ground, he was not as tall as Lion's power boots. The many primarchs stared wide-eyed at one another, somewhat at a loss as they examined Perturabo.

Novel. This was far too novel!

"Oh, oh, oh, isn't this our rebel commander-in-chief, Perturabo?"

"Who would have thought you were quite cute as a child? How did you grow up into that sorry state, wearing that dead-mother face all day?"

Konrad Curze's eyes gleamed. The primarch from Nostramo directly grabbed the sash of Perturabo's Greek-style cloak, lifted him before his eyes, and inspected him closely.

"The future has completely changed. At least, in the future I saw, Perturabo would not have become like this."

"Under the threat of death, he should have had no choice but to ascend into an Undivided Chaos Daemon Prince."

Curze spoke excitedly, while the other primarchs put aside their old assessment of him as a madman.

Back then, when Curze had told Dorn that a rebellion sweeping across the galaxy would tear apart the entire Imperium of Humanity, the primarch had fiercely rebuked Curze.

The two had even come to blows, and Dorn had been badly wounded and bled.

But now, everyone had to admit that Curze had been right.

Seeing one step further than everyone else made someone a genius. Seeing two steps further made them a madman.

"Father is in the Throne Room. As for his condition... I do not know how to describe it, but overall, there is no major problem." Dorn spoke