The White Scars son who had lost his Chainsword grew angrier the more he thought about it. After breaking through the enemy ranks, he crossed paths with another motorcycle and snatched the Anti-Vehicle Bomb hanging from it.
The Chaos leader had fully taken on Nurgle's appearance. His plump body was riddled with "wounds," the Grandfather's signature smile hung on his lips, and the antlers atop his head rose like a crown, proclaiming the Grandfather's majesty to everything around him.
He laughed uproariously and struck the black cocoon. Mist began brewing inside the cocoon, which had been as "soft and smooth" as jelly, then flowed through the fat hand touching it into the possessed mortal's body.
The black cocoon dried out, becoming brittle as cardboard. The Chainsword embedded in it fell to the ground. With another mighty blow, the Chaos leader broke free and swaggered out. Poisonous mist surged skyward, forming a cloud like a towering dead tree.
As he emerged from the cocoon, 1313 leaped toward the Daemon with every ounce of his strength. His gray-brown greatcoat snapped in the wind. Poison that seemed almost solid enveloped him, and fierce flames sprang up wherever the mist touched his body.
O flames beyond the mortal realm, scour the sins of this world.
At that moment, 1313 looked less like a Living Saint descending in holy light than an unyielding warrior who had fought his way back from hell-a man of Krieg charging into enemy flamethrowers, the radiance of humanity sustained by supreme will alone after flesh had burned away.
The Daemon watched 1313 hurtle toward him through the air. Raising both hands, he slashed forcefully and tore open several warp rifts. His power was summoning. Brothers and sisters in the Garden of Nurgle, come forth and spread the Grandfather's love.
Suddenly,