The temporal constraints of the stasis field were fading, and the flow of time around Sanguinius gradually returned to normal.
A White Scars Techmarine still stood beside him. His last, near-suicidal detonation had trapped both him and the False Archangel in the stasis field.
The power that froze space and time had inflicted irreversible damage on the Techmarine's body. An instant passed, and he was still charging toward the False Archangel. Within 0.01 seconds, he realized that the bomb in his hands had vanished. Then gunfire struck from behind, hitting his mechanical backpack, and flames burned across the metal...
Cold.
Bone-deep cold.
The Sword of Gleikvhand had not moved, yet the surrounding temperature had already plummeted. With the False Archangel's feet at its center, the flash fires and raging flames from the violent explosion vanished entirely.
The menace of this Ancient Eldar Sacred Sword surpassed even that of the False Archangel himself.
False Sanguinius stood in a daze. One moment, he had killed Omegon and confirmed that this was not the Vengeful Spirit. The next, he found himself in an entirely different world, facing a gigantic black Mek that called him a former brother.
"Oh, look at what those damned Magi Biologis have done. Compared with them, I hardly count as blasphemous." The words drifted from Perturabo's loudspeaker. He seemed to be mocking himself.
Who were the real followers of Chaos?
You believed in the Lectitio Divinitatus more fervently than Chaos Cultists believed in their faith. At least Chaos offered several gods to choose from.
Your Adeptus Mechanicus was more blasphemous than we were. They actually dared to manufacture a Primarch, and even... the sons of a false Primarch.
Your fanaticism, your indulgence, your... sins.
"Stop making excuses for your cowardice, little girl trapped in steel. That fragile heart of