Chapter 456: Kahn: A Familiar Feeling

The breath of fear loomed like an endless night without stars or moon, where only neon lights flickered and sin festered in the deep alleys.

Faced with this terrifying presence suddenly surging from the warp, Seth felt his flesh torn open, every sin he had ever committed laid bare.

Exposed before a cruel, insane, and extreme judge.

That judge allowed no slightest transgression, thirsted for justice with fanatical fervor, and meted out horrific executions in the name of judgment.

Had not Titus beside him seemed untouched by fear, his will as unyielding as gilded steel, its radiance awakening Seth, Seth would surely have been paralyzed by this bone-chilling terror.

"What the hell is that?" Seth snarled like a beast, fangs piercing his upper lip; he awakened his blood thirst, using the craving for blood to mask his fear.

Titus did not answer Seth's question—he likely did not know the answer.

The scent of blood clung to the corridors of the Lightlord, sharp and acrid.

The thing slowly crawled out of the warp; the moment it appeared, the surrounding lights dimmed as if afraid of it.

Seth may have seen the thing—or may not have seen it; perhaps he could not comprehend what lay before him.

All he saw was a pair of vivid, horrifying red eyes fixed upon him from the darkness.

No sinner could be forgiven; no sin could be pardoned.

Seth's stomach churned; memories of his own cruel crimes—his killings, his bloodlust—flooded forth, subjected to judgment beneath those crimson eyes.

"Communications are down," Titus whispered to Seth.

He still clung to reason, trying to report what had happened—but even the comm waves seemed to fear the warp-born monster and dared not approach.

Seth's expression darkened instantly; the wildness granted by his blood thirst reminded him.

This creature was not one he could hope to match.

Yet Seth still clenched his teeth and stood before the monster.

The Butcherer fears, rages, hungers for blood, and goes mad—but never retreats.

Especially not before the Space Marines.

"You… have… guilt," a grotesque, bestial, mad snarl echoed in Seth's ears.

A black shadow lunged at Seth; he raised his chainsword in terror to block.

Two claws shot from the darkness, tearing through Seth's power armor like rotten cloth, hurling him hard to the ground.

Titus stepped forward swiftly, replacing the fallen Seth, swinging his chainsword to intercept; the blade shrieked, the force numbing Titus's arms.

Such terrifying strength.

Titus, forged through countless battles—from Ork greenskins to Chaos Astartes, from demon princes to Tyranid swarms—had faced them all.

Yet even the Tyranid Hive Tyrant or an Ork Warboss had never pressed upon him such overwhelming dread.

"Innocent," Titus faintly heard the shadow's savage roar.

A pair of claws slashed; Titus was instantly driven back several steps, his gauntlets cracked all over.

"You monster!" Seth, chest wound gaping, surged up from the ground, forcing himself past fear, slamming his massive frame into the creature.

But the creature did not so much as twitch.

"Retreat to the western passage!"

Seth entangled himself with the monstrous thing, his fangs elongating, his face twisted beyond recognition.

He opened his maw like a ghoul and bit down upon the shadow.

Titus gripped his chainsword tightly.

"Kahn is on duty over there—only he can stop this thing!"

"Then notify Saint Dora!"

Titus nodded sharply, without hesitation, sprinting toward the western direction where Kahn stood.

"AHHHHHH!"

After Titus left, Seth let out a cry as a throwing knife, like a fang, shot from the darkness and pierced his chest—barely missing his heart.

"You… have… guilt," the creature growled.

"Do I really need you to tell me?!" Seth overcame his fear and charged at the creature.

"Senior Titus?"

Sol noticed Titus rushing over and cast him a curious glance.

He could not fathom what had happened to make this usually stern and calm Senior Titus act so urgently.

"What's going on?" Kahn, on duty with Sol, asked quietly.

"A warp entity—possibly a daemon—shrouded in darkness, disrupts communications, awakens terror, possesses claws, and is strong enough to overpower Lord Seth and me," Titus rapidly relayed all known information, then asked: "What is it?"

Kahn was a Chosen of Khorne, long active within the warp; surely he would recognize such a powerful warp presence?

Kahn fell silent for half a second, then: "I don't know."

"I'm not Alpharius," Kahn added, seeing Titus's stunned expression.

"Don't expect Kahn to tell you what it is—he's the real deal, the kind who makes Bio-Logisticians write medical notes and issue sick leave, a true biological idiot," the demon Lorm, fused with Kahn, said: "But honestly, I've never heard of a daemon like this… Huh? It's coming!"

At that moment, the lights at the other end of the corridor began to go dark; shadows spread.

"Sol, fall back and transmit this situation via comm," Kahn growled.

He issued the order to Sol.

Many saw Kahn as a mere beast, and indeed his mind was broken—but during the Great Crusade, he had once been a commander; simple commands like this he could still manage.

Sol did not hesitate; he sprinted away while transmitting the situation via comm.

Titus and Kahn stood ready, staring at the advancing darkness.

The darkness seemed formless; faintly, two claws could be seen—one gripping Seth's shoulder, the talons buried deep, rendering him utterly helpless.

It hurled Seth toward Kahn and Titus.

Kahn reached out, caught Seth with one hand, and dropped the unconscious man to the ground.

"Watch out," Titus fixed his gaze on the monster, carefully adjusting his stance to avoid exposing any weakness.

Kahn stood beside him in a casual, savage, gladiator-like posture.

Kahn let out a low growl.

He was certain he did not recognize this creature—but it was clearly not one of the Primarchs.

That meant it was unlikely to be beyond his capacity to handle.

In the warp, even the Chief Daemon of the Gods themselves did not frighten Kahn.

Now, after his Primarch augmentation, he felt stronger than ever.

He believed he would not lose.

Kahn's legs exploded with power; the tendon-cables added by his Primarch augmentation surged, launching him like a cannonball toward the black shadow.

Several dagger-like blades shot from the shadow, aimed straight at Kahn's face.

Kahn's chainsword whirred; the blood-threads wrapped around it spun through the air, deflecting the incoming daggers.

Then the blood-threads traced a precise crimson arc, slashing toward what might have been the shadow's head.

In that instant, Kahn's eyes clearly saw the shadow's form, saw the claws beneath.

In Kahn's brain, pierced through by the Butcher's Nail and supposed to be incapable of fear, a flicker of dread surged forth.

Fear, inexplicable, rose from Kahn's heart, slowing his movements.

"You… have… guilt," fragmented words spilled from the shadow's mouth.

Then one claw shot out, seizing Kahn's axe; the other claw followed, slapping Kahn across the face.

Titus watched as Kahn was struck by the shadow's palm, slammed into the wall, and froze in shock.

He had sparred with Kahn in the arena; he knew Kahn's strength.

Yet Kahn had been slapped into the wall by a single blow.

Titus suddenly realized: when confronting him and Seth, the shadow had not even used half its strength.

"How is this possible?"

Kahn's voice came from within the wall, thick with terror and disbelief:

"It's you!"

"How are you still alive?!"

(End of Chapter)