Time: XXXXXX (top secret)
Location: XXXX beneath the Tibetan Plateau (top secret)
"Are you really going to do this?"
Malcador quietly watched the twenty gestation pods before him. They all stood open, awaiting their occupants.
Behind him, the Emperor approached in silence, accompanied by another woman and another man.
"Mortals lack sufficient foresight and ability because of their limited lifespans."
"Gene-warriors, specialized for warfare, are likewise unsuited to ruling people."
"They will be our last line of defense. I hope we will never need them, but we must be prepared."
Malcador looked at the unused gestation pods.
"They will not let this rest. They will take back what belongs to them."
"I know."
Accompanied by that distant, ancient lion's roar, a towering figure emerged from the phantom forest and stepped in front of Sanguinius without hesitation.
The daemon sword Drach'nyen came crashing down. It struck the greatsword, knocked it aside, then slammed into the thick shield.
The massive figure was driven back, his knee smashing hard into the ground.
Sanguinius threw away his spear and joined him in raising the shield with all his strength.
Even together, the two were still hurled away by Drach'nyen's terrifying power, flying out of the scorched garden like cannonballs.
In an instant, the battlefield fell silent.
Then large numbers of black-armored Astartes in robes emerged from the phantom forest. Their equipment looked remarkably ancient, and no obvious insignia identified them.
One thing was clear, though: they were visibly baffled after stepping out.
Where's my dad?!
Hang on, where's my great big dad?! No matter how fast he ran, surely we should still be able to see him!
Reaver Lord Sekhros surveyed the chaotic scene, quickly picked up Drach'nyen, and ran to Abaddon's side.
Abaddon clutched the wound in his chest, blood spilling from