The Wings of Despair were an antigravity flight module. Even with the wings on his back broken down to bare stumps, Alpharius remained completely unruffled.
I'm flying straight to the Imperial Palace!
Can you simulate the Imperial Palace?
"Guilliman" knew the palace's layout very well, and so did Lorgar. But actually simulating it would mean...
Surely that would attract the Emperor's attention.
If you built a Brass Throne in the Warp, then piled up skulls into a throne and sat on it, would Khorne come looking for you?
Alpharius still harbored a small hope. There was someone he wanted to see.
Malcador was the person closest to him. He should be sitting on the Golden Throne now.
Alpharius wanted to see him, even a fake... if Lorgar had the nerve to simulate the Imperial Palace.
Shellfire screamed past his eyes. Alpharius could no longer tell whether he was facing Terra's antiaircraft defenses or traitor artillery. The attacks seemed to come out of nowhere. The Primarch knew he had pushed the illusion to its limits; it could simulate nothing farther away.
The question now was whether the simulation's range was fixed around the Vengeful Spirit or centered on him.
Alpharius soon had his answer.
An enormous face belonging to Lorgar emerged from Luna's light, and the light of Chaos illuminated the entire battlefield.
Despite the airless space around him, Alpharius heard the wailing of countless people.
That was far too fast. Chaos corruption didn't work that quickly. Nurgle's plagues took about a month to erupt, and even enhanced versions needed seven days. How could Terra turn into a hellscape a second after that light shone on it? If the Four Gods were that powerful, they would have conquered the galaxy long ago.
"Stop resisting, Robert. You have already fallen beneath our