"Come out and face me!"
"Vashtorr!"
Lox's voice rolled like thunder. He manipulated invisible threads of gravity with his power, amplifying his voice without limit.
Among the Possessed Marines of the Sons of Horus, an enormous daemon projection abruptly appeared.
This was Lox's first time seeing Vashtorr's true form. Behind the colossal daemon were wings composed of four scythe-shaped metal blades, with lightning-like arcs of energy flashing between them.
Scarlet flames flickered in its eyes. Through those fires, one could see roaring furnaces, as well as anvils and forges ringing with constant hammer blows.
Countless souls were hammered, molded, and transformed into an utterly miserable, unknown form.
Vashtorr exuded the nauseating, restless heat of searing metal, mingled with the stench of industrial pollution and sulfur. Lox frowned deeply, staring fixedly at this enemy who had suddenly revealed himself.
Man and daemon confronted each other from afar in the air. Beneath them, Iron Men, the mixed Astartes legion, and the traitors' Possessed Marine legion were locked in savage battle.
Vashtorr unleashed its power. It could sense every component of the Iron Men in Lox's ranks and see through the mysteries of the Star-pattern power armor.
It was the god of inventors, engineers, scientists, and craftsmen. Humanity's technological creations held no secrets from it. If it wished, it could unleash powerful Chaos Scrapcode to corrupt those war machines and weapons systems.
But Lox, this "competitor," stood before it, making it difficult for its power to directly affect the Imperium's forces and corrupt those weapons into betraying their original masters.
As the Forge Lord's oppressive presence surged over him like a tide, Lox suddenly realized that he had been somewhat overconfident. He had only recently obtained the authority of the Omnissiah and had merely unearthed a shallow sliver of its power, while Vashtorr