Khârn trembled all over, held fast by Lorgar's psychic power.
That power was so immense that even with all his strength, he could not break free.
Psychic force relentlessly compressed his body. It was as if a ten-thousand-ton hydraulic press were crushing Khârn's frame, shattering his muscles and bones.
The psychic ritual continued. Angron radiated an utterly terrifying bloody glow, and his voice gradually twisted, as though it came from the depths of hell.
"He would rather die!" Endless regret consumed Khârn. They should never have believed Lorgar's lies and allowed Angron to return. Now he was about to become something even more terrible and abhorrent.
He could already feel the power of that being known as the Blood God boiling over. It craved a Primarch, and Angron had already stepped onto the altar prepared long ago.
Angron's resurrection was only half complete. After rising from the blood pool, he existed in a state layered between life and death. Beneath his flesh was nothing but bloody water mixed with his genes.
That was why he had bled so madly when Guilliman injured him—because the real Angron had not yet truly come back to life.
Khârn had foolishly believed this was redemption, but this universe had never possessed such a thing.
They thought dawn would come, never realizing that the very concept of dawn would cease to exist.
Angron's shackles had loosened for but a moment, and they believed redemption had arrived. They never considered that it had only been done to replace them with even greater shackles.
At that moment, a teleportation beam tore through the sky, and the Contemptor Dreadnought forcibly teleported onto the battlefield.
Its cold iron claws sank deep into Nuceria's red sandy soil. Its immense metal body revved its engines and charged toward the battlefield.
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