The phantom Sacred Sword gradually took on a platinum sheen. Divine power returned it to its origins, reducing all the Ancient Eldar's exquisite craftsmanship to dust.
Sanguinius had only to hold it for his soul to resonate with it. Every beat of the Archangel's heart became a hammer blow forging the weapon, and the boundless rage in his heart became the flames that cast it.
With every beat of Sanguinius's wings, the Sacred Sword grew more solid.
He hurtled toward the Daemon Primarch. Wherever his wings swept past, they left spatial fissures woven from fire and ice. The reality barrier shattered with his every movement.
The warhammer rose to meet the sword. Perturabo put his entire strength behind the blow, and the Ordinatus Mech's energy core erupted with dazzling light. Where flesh met mechanical nerves, black blood evaporated in an instant. Flesh tightened harder than steel, crushing some of the machinery embedded deep inside his body.
The hammer swung faster than even its built-in Positron Thruster could fire, raising a storm of positrons across its surface.
"False Emperor!"
"My name is Sanguinius."
Sword and hammer collided. Wherever the blade touched, Vashtorr's blessings receded. One downward stroke sheared a corner off the warhammer, and thick frost spread across the smooth cut.
Several mechanical arms on Perturabo's body fired wildly at the Archangel, but the half of his body transformed by the Rubric ignored every hit as he closed in and punched toward Perturabo's heart again.
Only an emergency steel plate covered the frontal armour shattered earlier. Now the flaming fist tore it away too. This punch drove deeper and hurt more than any before it, slamming into Perturabo's flesh.
The fist did not penetrate his flesh, but every fragment of shattered steel broke through bone and drove into the Lord of