The shadows of warships shrouded Holy Terra, and warp rifts almost blotted out the sun.
The stars were strewn with the wreckage of warships, and the blood of loyalists and traitors stained almost the entire world.
A vast barrage rained down from above, leveling mountains and evaporating lakes.
Yet amid it all, a magnificent city stood defiant beneath the bombardment.
The Imperial Palace.
The Imperial Palace and the Sun-God's Gate, for which both sides fought to the death.
Countless Drop Pods crashed down like a torrential rain, while endless antiaircraft fire painted the sky in brilliant colors.
The Drop Pods had barely touched the surface before concentrated barrages destroyed them.
But in those few seconds of delay, more Drop Pods struck the ground.
The rebels' first wave consisted of countless "abhumans" and "mutants" oppressed by the Imperium. They hurled themselves down without regard for their lives.
The first defensive line was held by the Imperialis Militia.
A month earlier, they might have been ordinary civilians. Now, after only a few hours of training, they took up Lasguns to face the rebel army.
"For the Emperor, for humanity, we will fight to the last drop of blood!"
"Today, we die for humanity's future!"
"Fire!"
Some cried, some roared, and some screamed like madmen, but not one of them fled.
Then they were swept away like an earthen embankment before a flood.
All they left behind were streams of blood.
Vast numbers of Astartes were deployed to the battlefield, and the once-glorious God-Machine Titans roared at the palace.
Proud warriors died in droves like ants, and armored formations were reduced to heaps of scrap in less than an hour.
Even the mighty Titans, towering like mountains, were now no more than insignificant counters.
The traitors seized strategic positions one after another. Under the meticulous command of the master strategist, Perturabo, the Imperial Fists' defensive lines steadily crumbled.
At last, the final loyal defender on the palace walls fell amid the betrayal, and hordes of traitors stormed into the sacred palace.
Blasphemous symbols spread like a virus, and the Emperor's holy light grew dimmer by the day.
But the Emperor held on. The loyalists held on. Every subject of the Imperium held on.
Angron, already reduced to a beast, surrendered completely to his endless lust for slaughter. Together with the World Eaters, he built altars of skulls in the palace square to please the Blood God.
Fulgrim, meanwhile, had become nothing more than Slaanesh's plaything and led the Emperor's Children away from the battlefield.
Across the entire battlefield, only Perturabo and his Iron Warriors were still fighting with all their strength.
Before him stood the defensive line at the Gate of the End, commanded by Rogal Dorn, the unyielding stone, Primarch of the Imperial Fists.
This line consisted of the Adeptus Custodes, Thunder Warriors, and Astartes. Behind them stood the palace where the Emperor resided.
No matter how vast the attacking force, it melted like snow before the unyielding stone's defenses.
Perturabo needed more support.
"Horus, what is wrong with those World Eaters? Why are they attacking me?"
"I need more support!"
"Are you listening?"
Horus switched off his communicator. By now, he had become somewhat delirious.
I need... more power.
He sought aid from the gods in the darkness, and this time, as always, the dark gods answered him.
"Hold the line! These traitors will die here!" Dorn roared.
Beside him, the Thunder Warriors' company captain laughed without restraint.
"Hahaha! You little brats!"
"When we followed His Majesty and conquered all of Terra, you hadn't even been born!"
"Come on, then!"
Everyone could see that this rebel army was on its last legs.
All they needed to do was wait for Guilliman's army to return and relieve them, and they could annihilate Horus's forces.
Suddenly, everything changed.
In the square before the Gate of the End, a warp rift tore through realspace.
Before everyone's horrified eyes, an enormous monstrosity appeared.
It was like a monument to Chaos. When it descended upon Terra, it was as though the shadow of the Eye of Terror had fallen directly over the entire world.
The surrounding realspace began to twist, and warp daemons emerged endlessly from the void.
Even the Greater Daemons, whose assaults had just begun to falter, grew excited. The daemons surged toward the Gate of the End like a tide.
Even Astartes with weaker wills began to descend into madness. Faced with this monument to Chaos, the loyal warriors began to waver.
Then a great angel with outspread wings leaped from the wall.
"Abomination, you will not take another step!"
The archangel Sanguinius charged without hesitation at the terrifying being. His speed surpassed lightning, and his resolve was as firm as a mountain.
But the terrifying being merely unleashed a blaze of light from its left hand. Vast bolts of lightning erupted from its palm and hurled the archangel aside.
Then Captain Dakan of the Thunder Warriors suddenly stopped pulling his trigger and stared at the terrifying monster in shock.
He recognized it. At last, he understood why the monster looked so familiar.
He murmured:
"Your Highness..."
The terrifying monster strode toward the Gate of the End. Blasts from the Volcano Cannons, embodiments of the Imperium's wrath, were instantly swallowed by the warp when they struck its body. Even the shots fortunate enough to break through had no effect.
Warriors kept leaping from the walls, heedless of death, spending their lives to halt the monster's advance.
But its strength was far beyond anything they could stop. Astartes were set ablaze and reduced to ashes merely by meeting its gaze. Even the mighty Adeptus Custodes were torn apart by towering bolts of lightning. Only the Sisters of Silence could offer any resistance.
Even they were hacked into bloody scraps by the Chainsword in the monster's hand.
Dorn tightened his grip on his warhammer and drew a deep breath.
He could not let this monster smash open the Gate of the End. It was humanity's hope.
Suddenly, he heard a voice beside him.
"Let me."
He turned and saw a gleaming golden Dreadnought leap down, its power claw gripping a spear that radiated holy light.
A squad of Adeptus Custodes swiftly launched a suicidal charge. Before they could even approach the monster, they were burned alive by its immense psyker power or smashed into fragments by a tremendous blow, heavy with force and faster than lightning.
Their mission was merely to buy the Dreadnought those few seconds.
The monster seemed to notice this fearless challenger and thrust its twisted sword at him.
The Dreadnought twisted away from the strike. His right arm was shattered, but then the Chainsword pierced his entire body.
The monster hoisted the Dreadnought high as though displaying a trophy and let out a triumphant roar. Every Custodian present was enraged.
The Greater Daemons following behind the monster howled in unison, as though mocking humanity's weakness and helplessness.
But...
The Dreadnought swung his spear and drove it into the monster's forehead.
A deep, far-reaching voice rang out.
"Awake, son."
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