Chapter 93: Daemon Prince Angron
Khârn knelt nearby, Bloodfather and Bloodson tossed carelessly into the red sand.
Blood streamed from the Librarians' noses and eye sockets. Their brains were boiling, and the massive psychic backlash left them in unbearable agony.
The Contemptor Dreadnought's ceramite-adamantium composite armor had been utterly wrecked. One power claw had been completely destroyed by psychic force, and half the sarcophagus containing the ancient warrior's remains lay exposed.
The three factions within the World Eaters, each with their own views, had ultimately failed to reverse Angron's fate.
Lorgar came to Khârn's side and looked down at the mighty warrior, wearing a relieved smile.
"I promised you all this. Now I have fulfilled my promise. I have resurrected Angron, and from this day onward, he will never again fall into death because of the Butcher's Nails."
He pointed at his ascended brother. Trembling, Khârn finally made out the Primarch's face.
The original Angron had possessed hard, bronze-red hair piled above his prominent brow ridge, deep-set eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and a hooked aquiline nose that shaped the face of a Primarch.
It had been the face of a warlord worthy of being followed unto death. Every World Eater had been willing to die for him.
But now? Angron possessed nothing but pure rage. His face resembled that of the most horrifying beast or monster, his features twisted and pulsing. Fire burned in his eyes, rows upon rows of terrifying fangs interlocked in his mouth, and his skin was the scarlet hue of blood.
He knelt upon the ground, yet even so, Angron stood at least five or six meters tall. Savage bone spurs and knotted muscles intertwined, forming the most dreadful claws and fangs.
A pair of enormous flesh-and-blood wings folded against his back. Compared to that holy archangel,