mtlumby2d Chapter 357 The Dawn of Revelation
Chapter 357 The Dawn of Revelation
Angron's head rose into the void, black blood and arcs of electricity gushing from the severed joint of the Butcher's Nail. Countless writhing blood vessels bulged beneath his skin, each shimmering with the filthy light of the warp—the Butcher's Nail was no longer just an implant, but an anchor point permanently stitching his soul to the realm of Khorne.
"You think pulling out the nail will save me?" Angron's roar unleashed a psionic storm, his black sword and battle axe clashing and crackling with crimson lightning. "It's already ingrained in my soul!"
Guilliman's Imperial Sword barely managed to parry the incoming battle axe, the golden flames on its blade suppressed to a mere flicker. His power armor was riddled with cracks from the previous attack, and the joint of his left arm, exposed from blocking the heavy blows of the black sword, revealed its crackling, electrifying mechanical structure.
Angron's attacks were chaotic yet deadly. As the black sword pierced Guilliman's abdominal armor, the battle axe cleaved towards his neck almost simultaneously. The Primarch, relying on his honed combat instincts, twisted to dodge, at the cost of having three ribs on his left side shattered by the axe blade.
“You’re afraid, brother!” Angron’s eyes flashed with bloodlust as he headbutted Guilliman in the face. “Afraid of discovering you’re just like me—a defective product abandoned by your father!”
Guilliman's nose broke in the impact, but seizing the opportunity, he plunged the Emperor's Sword into Angron's right shoulder joint. Amidst the stench of burning flesh and blood from the golden flames, he growled, "The Emperor never abandoned us; you chose to fall!"
The wreckage of the warship floated around the two, the howls of the Khorne daemon and the chants of the Emperor's Sword intertwining into an eerie symphony. Angron's wounds no longer spewed blood, but boiling warp energy. His muscles swelled in divine rage, forcibly forcing the Emperor's Sword out of his body.
“Corruption?” Angron’s laughter trembled the void. “It’s because you’ve never seen the truth!” His black sword suddenly split into countless crimson tentacles, coiling around Guilliman’s limbs. “When Father created us, he wrote the ending—tools will eventually be discarded!”
Guilliman's eyepiece suddenly overloaded and shattered. In the midst of the excruciating pain, he "saw" the truth more clearly—Angron's soul had long been hollowed out by the Butcher's Nail, and what was driving this body at this moment was purely the destructive desire infused by Khorne.
“Forgive me, brother.” Guilliman suddenly gave up resistance, letting the black sword pierce his right lung. In the brief moment that Angron hesitated in surprise, his power gauntlet “Emperor’s Wrath” pierced through the opponent’s chest, seizing the heart that was directly connected to the warp.
Golden flames flowed into Angron's body through his veins, Khorne's Blessing and Imperial Fire clashing at every nerve ending. The roars of the two Primarchs resonated, creating shockwaves that tore reality apart, instantly vaporizing the nearest warship wreckage into ions.
"Let's die together!" Angron's eyes bulged, blood and tears crystallizing into crimson forms in the vacuum. "This is the fate brothers deserve!"
Guilliman's mind matrix deduced thirteen escape plans in a fraction of a second, only to reject them all. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Russell, unconscious in the medical pod in the distance—the golden light emanating from the young man was dimming as the warp contamination intensified.
“It’s time to end your suffering.” Guilliman abruptly pulled back his bloodied fist, crushing Angron’s heart in his palm. Khorne’s roar shattered the warp barriers of three star systems, and he plummeted into Baal’s atmosphere with Angron’s corpse in his arms amidst the energy backlash.
When Dante's reinforcements arrived, they found Guilliman kneeling in the center of the impact crater, Angron's body in his arms turning to ash in golden flames. The Primarch's power armor was almost completely destroyed, his exposed skin covered with warp-corroded patterns, yet he still clutched half of a molten Butcher's Nail.
"He smiled one last time." Guilliman's voice, mixed with pieces of viscera, escaped from his throat; these were the last words Russell heard before he awoke.
…………
When Russell pushed open Guilliman's hatch, he saw a rare sight of the Imperial Regent—his majestic body was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, the blue light of his mechanical eyes dimmed like extinguished stars, yet a smile, almost boyish, graced his lips.
“Perfect timing,” Guilliman said, placing the bloodstained quill beside the inkwell and pushing over a piece of parchment covered in coded writing. “Take a look at this.”
At the top of the page, in Gothic gold lettering, was the title "Project Apocalypse," and below it, densely packed with notes:
- **Super Soldier Mass Production Protocol** (based on Russell's psionic compatibility improvements)
- **Subspace Firewall** (Utilizing Protoss Fragment Reverse Engineering Technology)
- **Original Space Marine: Final Form** (Merged from the genetic templates of Blood Angel and Ultramarines)
“What is this…?” Russell’s fingertips traced the pages.
Guilliman stood up, red blood seeping through the gaps in his bandages—"Angron's death proved one thing: the Chaos Gods have begun hunting us down without regard for the cost." His mechanical eye focused on Russell's pale gold pupils. "And your evolution has shown me another possibility."
Dante's voice suddenly came from the doorway: "You want to use Russell as a living template?" A metallic sigh came from beneath the Blood Mask, "His psychic essence is an unrepeatable miracle."
“No, Dante,” Guilliman’s fingertip touched a spot on the document, and a holographic projection instantly unfolded—it was the data stream of Russell’s battle with Kahn, with the waveforms of golden psionic energy fighting against warp contamination highlighted and magnified in red. “What I want to replicate is not the result, but the transformation process itself.”
The projection switched to the research records of the Star God Fragment, and a certain specially marked band perfectly overlapped with Russell's psionic waveform.
“Star Gods are the natural nemesis of the warp,” Guilliman said, his bandages beginning to crack, though he remained oblivious, “and your psionic powers briefly reproduced this property when fighting Angron.” He clenched his fist, shattering the projection, “If we could mass-produce these ‘pseudo-Star God’ warriors…”
Russell's Blooddrinker suddenly spun automatically, its shovel blade etching a burning imperial motto into the bulkhead: **"Mortal bodies, standing shoulder to shoulder with gods."**
At the same time, deep within the Eye of Terror, a crack suddenly appeared in Khorne's brass throne. The Blood God's most beloved battle axe, "World Destroyer," detached from its base and plunged straight into the boiling sea of blood below.
The robes of one of the bird-men displayed contrasting patterns of excitement: "What a beautiful blasphemy..." His tentacles coiled around a mutating Eldar Soulstone. "A taboo that even the Emperor dared not attempt, yet his children will break it with their own hands."
The vision of the future reflected in the Soul Stone sent shivers down the spine of the Eternal Demon Lord—tens of thousands of golden-eyed warriors surged forth from Baal, wielding replicas of the Blood Drinker, each strike causing a permanent void in the warp.
“I accept.” Russell’s voice broke the silence in the cabin. His golden eyes looked directly at Killieman. “But on two conditions.”
The Primarch raised an eyebrow: "Speak."
“First, all test subjects must volunteer.” Russell’s Blood Drinker plunged into the floor, the blade gleaming with images of superangels locked in bloody battle. “Second…” he pointed to the blank space at the end of the document, “This plan should be named by you personally.”
Guilliman's quill sparkled across the parchment, the final line transforming into a burning oath under the infusion of psionic energy:
**Project Codename: Dawnhammer**
"Because," the Primarch handed the document to Dante, the wound beneath the bandages already beginning to heal, "we must forge a weapon to shatter the eternal night."