"My throne is missing a skull. I had planned to save that place for the fool Guilliman, but now yours seems a better choice."
"Then come and take it!"
In the blink of an eye, the fearsome Warmaster Abaddon and the radiant Archangel Sanguinius became two blurred afterimages, charging toward each other with devastating force.
The daemon sword Drach'nyen seethed with endless hatred, spewing pitch-black smoke that warped reality, as though it would drag the entire world into the abyss.
The blood spear, the Spear of Telesto, blazed with golden light as pure and searing as the sun. Sacred energy surged from it like a tide, seeking to cleanse the darkness before it.
Black mist and golden light collided violently with a deafening shriek. The shock waves distorted the air and made the surrounding metal walls groan in agony.
Sanguinius struck first, moving like lightning. The Spear of Telesto became a golden thunderbolt in his hands, thrusting toward the Warmaster's heart faster than mortal eyes could follow.
Warmaster Abaddon roared, hastily crossing the massive Talon of Horus and the darkness-wreathed daemon sword Drach'nyen to block the lethal strike by brute force.
Metal struck metal with a piercing screech. Golden energy and black sorcery exploded, and the impact made the deck beneath their feet tremble.
But the thick black mist rolling around Abaddon coiled around Sanguinius like a living thing, stripping away his senses. It left him as though suspended in a void of chaos, unable to judge his opponent's position or movements precisely.
At the same time, the black flames dancing along Drach'nyen seemed alive, licking invisibly at the Great Angel's soul. Agony pierced him as though thousands of red-hot, poisoned needles had plunged into his marrow.
Abaddon seized the instant of hesitation caused by Sanguinius's pain and clouded senses.