Abaddon: This Team Is Impossible to Lead

Betrayal was an addictive poison. Once there was a first time, there would be a second.

Abaddon understood all too well that these seemingly loyal allies could tear off their hypocritical masks at any moment and turn their blades against him, all for the sake of their own interests.

In fact, when he had brought the last bloodline of the Sons of Horus here, he had already prepared for a bloody battle.

The victor would win actual control over the rebel forces that followed.

There were no so-called goals, no so-called ideals—only the strong devouring the weak, deception, and treachery.

How tragic. These Astartes who called themselves superhuman were no different from the mortals in dens of space pirates and bandits.

Yet the outcome Abaddon had expected did not come to pass. At least for now, all the Legions could still maintain a surface appearance of harmony and unity.

It was a good start.

"Now that everyone is here, let us begin."

The Dark Apostle, Lorgar, who had been standing beside Abaddon, suddenly spoke.

It was as though some vast, transcendent will had taken control of his body, and his entire presence changed.

Within the shadows cast by the burning braziers, something seemed to writhe, attempting to descend upon this place.

"Horus failed. He could not kill the False Emperor. He was an unqualified weapon, burdened by far too many distracting thoughts and weaknesses."

"Yet he also forced the False Emperor back onto the Golden Throne. This is an opportunity we cannot afford to miss."

Abaddon did not become angry, because he felt that some utterly terrifying beings were watching him.

His soul seemed to have been dissected completely. Every thought and desire was laid bare before the eyes of the Four Gods.

"Those are... the Dark Gods!"

The Eye