"So he's here. Trying to decapitate the Despoiler with a boarding strike?"
The moment Abaddon sensed the Savior's presence, the fire of vengeance erupted within him. The face-like warp energies coiling around his body screamed and howled.
He surged up from his throne, Chaos daemon sword in hand, the Talon of Horus flashing with crackling warp-light.
His Chaos lords and elite bodyguards were all here, and the Savior still dared to board his flagship.
It was humiliation.
"Savior, since you want a final battle, I'll grant you one!"
Abaddon roared, settling into a combat stance as his aura rolled outward like a storm.
"The Despoiler waits here today—one duel to the death, to end our feud once and for all!"
He stood upon the dais, waiting for that moment to arrive.
Very soon, dozens of Dark Thunder Custodians and Terror Warriors teleported into the bridge.
The dark-red flames on their armor, the luminous wings, and the exaggerated halos and effects lit the entire chamber so violently that even the Empyrean's pallid glow was forced back.
The Terror Warriors' wargear was, without exaggeration, among the most ostentatious in the galaxy and the Warp—suffocatingly intimidating.
Every one of them carried master-crafted, heavily modified weapons, and even the skulls mounted on their trophy racks had been upgraded with force-fields or crimson las-beams.
In other words: these were the elite of the elite within the Terror Legion. Everyone was walking around with +18 gear.
Compared to them, the Black Legion looked downright impoverished—rusted, battered, and grim.
There was no helping it. In recent years, the Black Legion's material situation had grown even worse. Even their best units couldn't be properly equipped.
The Terror Legion's configuration made the Chaos warriors on the bridge stare with burning greed. They wanted those master-crafted weapons.
But when Abaddon saw the boarding party up close, he went still.
He didn't see the Savior—didn't see the so-called Emperor of the Imperium.
Wasn't Eden supposed to face him in a duel? Where was he?
From his throne, Abaddon looked down at the Terror Legion elites and demanded, "Where is the Savior? That so-called Chaos Warmaster doesn't dare face me?"
The commander of the Dark Thunder Custodians met his gaze, voice steady.
"The Chaos Warmaster—the Dark Prince—has no time to personally attend this battle. He sent us to deliver an edict."
Eden no longer bothered hiding certain identities. He simply revealed them.
With his forces expanding, secrecy was becoming impossible anyway.
Besides, his position was stable now. There was no need to keep pretending.
In the current galaxy and Warp, who still dared call him a xenos heretic? Anyone who did was practically announcing rebellion.
Showing the truth openly created more intimidation.
More importantly, "Savior" had become just another mask. His real core was the Hope Sun—a god in the Warp, receiving worship and faith.
And not a single-faced being, either—Hope Sun, Diablo the Destroyer, Ork "Rogo," and more.
Meaning: he wasn't merely one human. Like the Chaos Gods, he was a higher-dimensional lifeform.
Not bound by species.
That let him harvest faith from more factions and powers—and the Terror Legion accepted the reality quickly.
To a Terror Warrior, "Savior," "Emperor," and "Chaos Warmaster" were just managerial titles. Eden, like them, worshiped Diablo the Destroyer.
That Dread King was the one they truly served.
With Eden's current status, Abaddon wasn't worth a personal duel. There was no need.
If it were Horus—truly returned and guided by the gods—that might merit Eden's hand.
Eden would stand on the Emperor's tier of perspective, facing the galaxy and Warp with a wider view.
But that core secret was beyond Abaddon. All he could see was the Savior.
Just as, to lesser beings, the Chaos Gods were also elusive—concepts more than people.
Abaddon heard the Dark Thunder commander's words and his fury spiked into something hotter.
He gave a cold smile.
"The Savior thinks you're enough to defeat me?
"If he's truly that stupid, then I overestimated him."
No matter how Abaddon measured it, these Terror Legion elites looked like a gift-wrapped suicide. He and his Chaos lords could butcher them to the last.
"No." The Dark Thunder commander's tone didn't change in the slightest, even under the Despoiler's pressure. "The one who defeats you will not be us, but the Chaos Warmaster's edict."
He produced a special device, wrapped in the Savior's psychic imprint.
The presence Abaddon had sensed earlier came from it.
Humm—
Eden appeared as a psychic projection: clad in True One Armor, yet wreathed in crimson flame, the curved horns of his helm rising like spires into the void.
His aura was even heavier than Abaddon's at a glance—unmistakably the ruler of the Chaos side.
The projection's arrival crushed the bridge into a deeper, more oppressive silence. Every eye locked on it. Caution flared in every throat.
Even though it was only a pre-recorded psychic imprint.
Eden looked over them as if issuing a judgment.
"Abaddon, and warriors of the Black Legion—your defeat is inevitable. End this meaningless struggle.
"The faith you cling to no longer has any meaning. Chaos warriors should have higher goals than playing games in the galaxy.
"In the name of the Emperor of the Imperium, and in the name of the Chaos Warmaster, I invite you to a new war—one whose enemy is the Chaos Gods, those lofty beings who toy with your souls.
"Do you not want to drag them down from their thrones, and expose their ugly faces before all?"
The projection's gaze felt like it looked into everyone at once, his voice carrying an incomparable, intoxicating force.
"This is the Black Legion's last chance.
"If you refuse this glorious war, then I'm sorry—your only end is to die as cowards, bearing eternal shame, forgotten by all."
Bang—
Abaddon finally snapped.
He crushed the device with warp power, shattering it to pieces and dispersing the psychic projection.
He was incandescent with rage.
"Savior, you think you can dissolve my strength with cheap words?
"The Black Legion will never kneel. Victory—or death!"
The Black Legion wasn't finished yet. The Planet Killer looked like it was running, but in truth it was circling—closing on Vigilus by a more indirect route.
He still had a chance to execute a suicidal strike.
Once the Planet Killer reached low orbit over Vigilus, it could coordinate with the Black Legion warlord on the ground—Harken Worldclaimer.
Using a Blackstone seismic device to resonate with the Noctilith Crown on the surface, they could detonate the Blackstone network of deposits.
That plan had been prepared for years. If not for repeated raids and plundering, it would have been carried out long ago.
But it wasn't too late.
"All ships—break through the Warp storm. Advance on Vigilus!"
Abaddon issued the order, directing his fleet into the terrifying storm.
A裂隙. A rift the Black Legion sorcerers had discovered centuries ago—finally put to use.
Risky, yes, but it would let the fleet bypass the Savior's intercept lines and reach the target faster.
"Pathetic boarders," Abaddon sneered, lifting his daemon sword toward the Terror Legion elites who stood in a posture like they were waiting to accept surrender. "The Chaos Warmaster's edict failed, and you will die here."
Then, with killing intent boiling, he thundered:
"Kill them!"
In an instant, bolter fire and disintegration fields flooded multiple sections of the bridge. Slaughter erupted.
But in the next heartbeat, Abaddon realized something was wrong.
The Planet Killer wasn't moving at all.
No continued burn. No sign of transit.
The Warp drives went dark. The flagship simply… stopped.
Even worse, those sections of the ship weren't under enemy attack.
Meaning: Black Legion personnel in those sections had voluntarily disobeyed the Despoiler and shut the flagship down.
Then messages poured into the bridge.
They declared that they would obey the Chaos Warmaster's edict.
They wished to take part in the Great War of the Empyrean.
Abaddon froze. His mind went blank, and one thought exploded through him—
Treason against the heavens.
In all these years, no one had ever disobeyed his orders so plainly. What kind of mutiny was this?
"Rebels! Rebels!"
Abaddon roared like a furious beast, killing intent pouring off him in waves.
He glared down at a Chaos lord below the throne—black armor, grotesque machinery embedded across his frame—his voice shaking with rage.
"Valicar. Go… execute every last traitor. Leave none alive!"
Before pledging himself to Chaos, Valicar had been a senior Techmarine, master of dark forging. He was the perfect choice to purge the rebels and restart the Warp drives.
But the Chaos lord didn't move.
Instead, he lifted his head and stared at the Despoiler in silence.
Not only him. The other Chaos lords did the same.
And the Black Legion warriors who had obeyed the earlier order—who had attacked the Terror Legion elites—were already down, cut apart under overwhelming counterfire.
The Terror Legion elites returned to formation, just like everyone else, looking up at the throne.
Their eyes were ice.
Abaddon came out of his rage into something colder than rage.
After the Black Legion's final war collapsed, even the faith of a last, suicidal charge was gone.
Now even his Chaos lords were choosing betrayal.
The Savior—Chaos Warmaster—had secured the outcome with a single edict.
And Abaddon had still been thinking about "dueling" him?
He realized, with an ugly clarity, that a pitiful wall now separated him from the Savior.
He didn't even have the qualification to challenge Eden anymore.
No wonder the Planet Killer had been pursued again and again.
The enemy had been inside him all along.
The entire bridge fell into silence.
Only the blind sorcerers hanging on the soul-pylons let out weak, intermittent moans.
"Despoiler. You have already lost."
The Dark Thunder commander spoke slowly.
"The Chaos Warmaster does not wish for more casualties. Accept it."
Abaddon stared at the mutinous Chaos lords and commanders—those who had followed him for thousands, tens of thousands of years.
He asked softly, "Why? Are you so afraid of the Savior? So afraid of death?"
Amurael Ika—the hulking, monstrous Helbrute filled with bubbling green fluid—spoke in a muffled, grinding voice.
"We are not afraid of death. We simply don't want to die without value.
"We crave a greater war, not endless defeat and laughter at our expense.
"If we are already part of the Imperium, then why can we not change the target?"
Valicar was even more blunt.
"My lord, you can still lead us on crusade—only the conquest is aimed at the Empyrean.
"Even now, why must you oppose that Chaos Warmaster?"
Abaddon drew a slow breath.
Those words sounded exactly like: If you're the Emperor, why are you rebelling?
He almost laughed from anger, teeth grinding.
"If… I refuse the edict anyway?"
The moment the words fell, the Chaos lords began drawing their weapons one by one, force-fields humming to life.
The meaning was unmistakable.
Even the commander of Abaddon's personal guard beside the throne ignited his weapon.
"Even you?"
Abaddon's vision darkened. His blood surged. For a second he nearly fainted.
Those were the guards he had personally selected.
His most trusted retinue.
How absurd was this? Did the universe still have any order left at all?
Any personal guard was meant to be utterly loyal—willing to die for their master.
The counterpart to the Emperor's Custodes.
If even his closest guards betrayed him, how thoroughly had he failed?
But then—hope sparked.
That same guard commander stepped in front of Abaddon and barked:
"Move!"
A flood of black-armored guards stormed from the passages on both sides of the throne, hurling themselves at the Terror Legion elites and the Chaos lords.
The rest covered Abaddon's withdrawal into a hidden passage behind the throne.
"I haven't lost everything. I can still take the Blackstone seismic device…"
Abaddon ran down the secret corridor, clinging to that final sliver of victory.
"We can't let the Despoiler relocate the target device!"
Around the throne, the Terror Legion elites broke through the guards' line, trying to chase Abaddon.
More importantly, they needed to seize the facility that intelligence suggested could pose a lethal threat to Vigilus.
But before they could move, the bridge was hit by a sudden, violent strike.
An unknown enemy.
In an instant, brutal firepower flooded the chamber. Everything devolved into chaos.
And Abaddon—fleeing the Planet Killer with the Blackstone seismic device in hand—felt a familiar presence.
One that filled him with terror and rage.
…
Several days later.
Within the atmosphere.
Multiple teleport torpedoes burned through the sky, slamming into the soil of a dead, withered forest.
Then teleport beacons flared.
A towering golden figure, and his escorts, stepped out of a teleportation circle.
It was the Savior—the Emperor of the Imperium—clad in True One Armor, with his Custodian Watchers at his side.
"Have you found him?"
Eden swept his gaze over the dry, blackened woods and turned to the Custodian commander beside him.
Days earlier, intelligence had finally located Horus' trail. The moment Eden received the report, he personally led a pursuit force.
The Custodian commander checked the augur display, then nodded and indicated a direction.
Eden led the Custodes in a rapid assault advance.
But when they arrived, they found only Chaos corpses carpeting the ground, and soil soaked in corrupted blood.
Leaning against a dead tree nearby was a figure drenched in blood—barely alive.
Abaddon.
The former Despoiler looked wretched beyond words.
There were claw marks across his chest. His internal organs had been destroyed. Both hands had been smashed to ruin.
Even the skin of his face had been peeled away, leaving him constantly eaten by a special warp-corrosion that looked ready to finish him at any second.
"…What a coincidence."
Eden stared at the scene, brow tightening.
"Notify Vigilus.
"Whatever Abaddon was carrying has probably been taken by Horus.
"We may have a major problem."
(End of Chapter)
[Get +30 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Zaelum"]
[Every 300 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]