Chapter 247: Warlord! Why This?!

Grayfax's vision surfaced the residual memories within the corpse's skull.

Her perspective slowly merged with the eyes the corpse had held in life.

Grayfax saw herself standing behind a Red-Armored Terminator-Wizard.

Clearly, this was the Black Legion leader dispatched by Abaddon to this fortress; Grayfax swiftly observed the surroundings through the corpse's memories and confirmed the unit was primarily led by the Word Bearers.

Most Word Bearers in the Black Legion were outright traitors—having betrayed both their faith in the Emperor and the blasphemous worship of the Daemon Primarch Lorgar.

Some acted out of hatred for the Imperium; others, out of pure greed, chose to serve the Great Devourer Abaddon.

Based on the corpse of this Word Bearer, Grayfax quickly confirmed the composition of the unit.

Eternal War Veterans!

This entire squad of Word Bearers were traitors who had survived the Great Heresy ten thousand years ago, former members of the ancient Word Bearer Legion.

For the vast majority of Imperials, the glory of the Great Crusade and the horror of the Horus Heresy were merely distant history—or ancient myth.

But time flowed strangely in the Warp; many Chaos Astartes who had lived through the Heresy still lived, still clung to vengeance against the Imperium, thirsting to overthrow it, destroy it, and avenge the failure of the Heresy.

Abaddon had sent an entire squad of Eternal War Veterans to intercept the Expeditionary Force of Belisarius Cawl—what holy relic was Cawl protecting that had drawn Abaddon's such intense attention?

"Warlord!"

A cry rang out as the lead Word Bearer Terminator-Wizard strode swiftly to the door.

The door burst open, and a torrent of wind and snow surged into the fortress, howling through the slender Aeldari architecture.

From the blizzard stepped a Chaos Lord clad in black Terminator power armor, his chest engraved with the merged sigil of Horus's Eye and the Eight-Pointed Star of Chaos, his left hand armed with a claw, his right gripping a long, azure blade etched with screaming human faces.

His crimson topknot streamed in the wind; the favor of the Chaos Gods manifested as four layers of grim, malevolent energy coiling around him, making him seem like a vessel for divine power in the material realm.

Azeckel Abaddon, the Great Devourer Abaddon, the Chaos Warlord Abaddon.

On Cadia, Grayfax had once seen this former First Captain of the Sons of Horus, the initiator of the Thirteen Black Crusades.

Now seeing him again—even within a memory—Grayfax still found his presence terrifying.

Twenty-two bodyguards surrounded him as he entered the fortress, including a grotesque, twisted Hellion.

The Hellion resembled an Imperial Dreadnought but was far more horrifying—a pure embodiment of terror; the Chaos Astartes entombed within had fused with the metal, their souls enduring near-eternal torment.

Grayfax felt her scalp prickle—Abaddon had arrived on Krasus far too early; this was not his style.

"Warlord! Why are you here?" The Word Bearer Terminator-Wizard hurried forward, voicing the same question Grayfax had.

"A Dark God has a gift for you," Abaddon said slowly.

The Word Bearer Terminator-Wizard first looked bewildered, then confused, then his eyes lit up with delight.

He believed a Dark God was about to bestow a blessing upon him.

The other traitors beside him also stirred with joy.

They were one step closer to vengeance.

Grayfax could feel it—the suppressed rage and hatred trapped within the memory.

Fire rained from the heavens; the grand scriptures turned to rubble; sacred statues shattered; devout believers died; the Son of the God knelt in ruin, humiliated.

The God commanded His other Son to bring destruction upon the perfect city that had worshipped Him faithfully.

Like the brimstone fire cast upon Sodom in ancient Terra's legends.

But Sodom was full of sin—what crime had they committed?

Was devotion itself a sin?

Fire burned through the city; on that day, ten thousand Word Bearers swore silently in their hearts:

No matter how long it took, no matter the cost, they would avenge the shattering of their faith.

They would reduce Terra and Macragge to ruins, as their perfect city had been.

"Which great god?" The Word Bearer stepped forward involuntarily.

"The Emperor, of course."

Abaddon's lips suddenly curled into a mocking smile.

"Dark enough?"

The Word Bearer Terminator-Wizard froze, stunned into silence.

But the twenty-two bodyguards beside Abaddon moved instantly.

Sonic booms echoed through the fortress; these twenty-two Astartes moved faster than the cold wind outside.

Even the massive Hellion moved faster than ordinary Astartes.

Their figures flickered like flashes—each appearance meant another Word Bearer fell.

Especially the Hellion—it became a whirlwind; only the clatter of impacts was heard, and where it passed, nothing remained but corpses.

"Warlord?! Why this?!" The Word Bearer Terminator-Wizard screamed in anguish.

Was Abaddon killing Word Bearers in the Emperor's name?

Grayfax momentarily doubted her own senses.

"You're not the Warlord!!"

The Word Bearer Wizard let out a piercing shriek; his experience as an Eternal War Veteran snapped him to awareness.

He unleashed a barrage of howling psychic blasts toward the "Abaddon."

But the Hellion's form flashed instantly, blocking the psychic strikes with its massive body.

Yet the Word Bearer Terminator-Wizard seized the moment, retreating swiftly to join the surviving Word Bearers, raising layered psychic shields with his staff while muttering a string of incantations.

Grayfax quickly deduced the dark incantation was for short-range teleportation via the Warp.

He wants to flee!!

Could it be that because all the Word Bearers escaped, the fortress was left with only one corpse?

But after deeper thought, Grayfax felt something was wrong.

The Word Bearer was whispering incantations.

To Grayfax, it seemed slow—but she knew this was a time distortion caused by the memory.

The Word Bearer only intended to teleport quickly to the snowy plains outside, using the storm for cover; the distance was great, but the incantation required only a brief moment.

Then, suddenly, the scene before Grayfax rippled.

Instantly, the illusion covering the twenty-two bodyguards and Abaddon peeled back one layer.

The bodyguards' armor turned blue; their shoulder plates bore the Ω symbol.

Abaddon's height seemed to increase; his topknot became short golden hair; his face grew serious and stern; his power armor transformed into blue-and-gold armor.

Grayfax froze—those features—those features matched the records of the Inquisition.

"You're not curious who I am?" The man in the center of the hall, with pale golden short hair, smiled.

"No! Fulgrim killed you!"

The Word Bearer Wizard screamed in terror and fury; his teleportation ritual shattered, and his psychic shield flickered with his emotional turmoil:

"You've been dead for ten thousand years!"

"Some things fall with time—but some endure."

The "Kurimann" whose face matched the Inquisition records smiled at the Word Bearer priest:

"Your perfect city is gone—but our Macragge remains beautiful!"

Your perfect city is gone—but our Macragge remains beautiful!

Grayfax stared, dazed and bewildered, her mind sluggish for the first time.

A Primarch! A divine Primarch stood before her.

Even if only seen through a traitor's memory—even if likely false—Grayfax felt a profound shock.

The Word Bearers instantly roared like beasts; fury flooded their hearts.

The psychic shield the Terminator-Wizard had unleashed erupted into a living flame and hurled itself at "Kurimann."

But the flame passed straight through "Kurimann's" body—he had been an illusion all along.

The Dreadnought, now freed from the Hellion's illusion, struck like a meteor toward the Word Bearer Terminator-Wizard.

Even an Astarte with immense psychic power and Terminator armor could not withstand the super-speed charge of a Dreadnought.

The Word Bearer was blasted backward like a cannonball, slamming into the wall, his throat seized by the Dreadnought's arm.

The Word Bearer whose memory Grayfax was viewing twisted his head in terror.

Then, suddenly, the light and shadow before him rippled.

A man wearing a brown baseball cap, cat-shaped glasses, and a cat's tail appeared before him.

The cat-man slowly gave the Word Bearer whose memory Grayfax was reading an Eagle salute.

No—not to the Word Bearer. To Grayfax, who was spying on him.

"Hail to you, Judge Grayfax," the cat-man said, pressing down his cap with a smile.

As if he knew Grayfax was reading the memory.

Then, before Grayfax could grasp what happened, a bullet struck the Word Bearer in the chest; blood spilled, and the memory ended.

Grayfax jolted awake, gasping, face pale with terror.

". rimarch," Grayfax gasped. "I saw Primarch Roboute Guilliman."

Belisarius Cawl's remaining half-face twitched slightly.

"And a cat!" Grayfax continued. "A cat with excellent marksmanship!"

Leina's expression twitched slightly.

(End of Chapter)