Something changed.
BOOOOM-!!!!
Without warning, a terrifying blast loud enough to make Cadia's entire crust groan erupted from orbit! It was so thunderous, so brutal, that a vast shower of dust and rubble instantly shook loose from the command hall's already precarious ceiling.
Abaddon's Power Claw paused almost imperceptibly in midair, just as he was about to bring it down. For the first time, a flicker of irritation at having his enjoyment interrupted crossed the savage face hidden beneath his Terminator Armour. He slowly raised his head and looked beyond the doors and windows, where the fires of war had long since stained everything blood-red.
Then he saw it.
Every Imperial soldier still drawing breath, every Chaos Cultist reveling in triumph, saw it.
Three enormous "meteors" wreathed in dark-red flames roared toward the colossal Chaos flagship in orbit-the Planet Killer-and slammed into it with near-suicidal abandon!
They were no vengeance torpedoes of the Imperial Navy, much less elegant Aeldari warships. The shapes of those three "meteors" were so... crude, so... imaginative. They looked like three ultimate patchwork monstrosities a drunken, mad blacksmith had cobbled together from the wreckage of countless warships and mountains of scrap metal. Their hulls bristled with enormous, vicious rams, gun emplacements that made no sense whatsoever, and huge, hideous graffiti daubed in blood and paint.
The largest vessel bore an unmistakable sight upon its prow: a green Ork head, half flesh and half steel, its mouth stretched wide in crazed laughter!
"O-Orks?!"
A Chaos Space Marine Terminator standing behind Abaddon muttered in utter disbelief.
*Orks? At a time like this? On the most pivotal battlefield in the entire universe, where the fate of the next ten thousand years would be decided?! What were they doing here?! There was neither the scrap metal they loved nor the