When the last Blood Angels landing craft touched down on Bloodfang's crimson surface, darkness fell.
It was not the darkness of nightfall, but a suffocating blackness cast by an immense shadow.
Unlike the chaotic Daemon charges before it, this assault possessed an iron logic and cold efficiency.
On the long-range scanners of Macragge's Honour, tens of thousands of densely packed red blips spread from the Eye of Terror like a virus. They were not warships, but enormous drop pods propelled by daemon engines, packed with Chaos Space Marines and fanatics. Their objective was not a decisive void battle with the Imperial Fleet, but to slam straight into the surfaces of the four planets, regardless of the cost.
"These are Perturabo's tactics!" Guilliman recognized his brother's signature handiwork at a glance. "He means to drown our ground defenses in sheer numbers and bypass the fleet battle!"
Meanwhile, farther out in the void, thousands of Chaos warships fired their shells simultaneously. Covered in blasphemous runes, the shells traced precise arcs at tremendous speed, heading straight for the four Blackstone Obelisks still under construction.
It was classic Perturabo: a multilayered, all-encompassing saturation attack that spared no expense. He would use the siege hammer he wielded best to shatter Guilliman's carefully constructed defenses.
"Activate interception systems! All frigates and destroyers, form the first defensive line and tear through the barrage with close-range defensive fire! Cruisers and battleships, fire at will and clear out those drop pods!" Guilliman issued his orders calmly. "Notify the planetary defense forces. Prepare for impact!"
An epic struggle between attack and defense erupted across four vast battlefields at once. Guilliman and Perturabo, once brothers and masters of war games, had made the entire star system their chessboard again after ten thousand years.
Countless burning iron coffins screamed down through the