…
On the Conqueror's bridge, Abaddon, Typhus, and Sorax stood around the brass blood pool, where every detail of the star system was marked in the glistening droplets. The Chaos fleet was steadily emerging from the widening rift, a great rend in the galaxy itself, spreading under the influence of warp energies. Now spanning nearly seventy kilometers in diameter, the rift linked the Eye of Terror, Cadia's crystal fields, and the rift itself in a powerful trinity.
At the forefront of the fleet surged the Blackstone Fortress. Although its weapon systems were crippled by a void torpedo blast, its sheer size remained a formidable advantage. Trailing it were three battleships: the Conqueror, the Vengeful Spirit, and the Endbringer. Behind them, a line of sixty cruisers followed, lacking escort ships yet reinforced with countless transport vessels. These transports carried legions of Chaos Space Marines, ancient knightly houses that had forsaken the Imperium millennia ago, Titan legions, and a massive array of Daemon Engines.
"Last time, you fled so quickly you might have missed this," Abaddon remarked to Sorax, indicating the celestial engine, a massive object comprised of three blood-red droplets in the pool. "It can unleash an electric surge potent enough to wipe out our entire transport fleet in seconds."
"I know," Sorax replied dismissively. "Though I was quick to retreat last time, I watched the fight through the eyes of a sorcerer. I'm likely more aware of our enemies' capabilities than you are."
Abaddon wasn't sure what fueled Sorax's confidence, but he decided to trust him, even after their last plan to expand the rift by destroying celestial bodies had failed. Abaddon had considered a full retreat, but Sorax sought him out and proposed a blood ritual, a deadly rite devised by Abaddon's former lieutenant, Kvarn, known as the Blood God's Arena. Sorax assured him that if they performed the ritual, they could bypass a fleet battle, unleashing the true power of the Black Legion and their warbands in direct boarding actions and ground combat.
"When we circled the Veiled Sector with you for so long, I hoped you'd finish your ritual in time for the battle," Typhus growled.
Sorax gave a slow nod, his eyes fixed on the blood pool. After a long silence, he murmured, "Only the final step remains. We must all embark upon a boarding action. As for whether we go to Cadia or the Iron Planet, that choice is yours, Warmaster."
"The Iron Planet," Abaddon decided without hesitation. In his mind, there was no point attacking Cadia if the Iron Planet remained intact.
Demons had failed to take Cadia, and he was no fool to think he would fare any better there.
Abaddon placed a gauntleted hand, sheathed in Horus's claw, on Sorax's shoulder. Even without force, the weapon left deep indentations in the other's shoulder plate.
"You'll be at my side. If you try to escape…"
"Of course," Sorax replied, brushing Abaddon's arm away. "My only fear is the Conqueror being destroyed, not death."
With that, Sorax commanded his new adjutant, "Teleport us all to the Iron Planet."
Abaddon and Typhus hadn't come to the Conqueror alone; each had brought their most elite warriors, all prepared for a boarding action. A minute later, Abaddon found himself atop one of the orbital satellites of the celestial engine, accompanied by Typhus, Sorax, and their gathered elite.
It was his first time this close to the massive war engine. Abaddon took in his surroundings, observing the flat, wide expanse between two great weapon arrays. If the arrays were mountain ranges, then this gap was a valley – a perfect battleground. When Abaddon looked skyward, he saw another satellite and the planet encircled by the two structures. The celestial engine's arc weapons were already primed, charging and turning to lock onto the fleet. The thunderous movement of their towering guns, louder than any storm, sent tremors through the metal ground beneath them.
"What a sight this would be if these Iron Planets were mine," Abaddon murmured, almost in awe.
Typhus shook his head beside him. "No, it wouldn't."
Ignoring him, Abaddon turned to Sorax. "Those arcs are about to obliterate our fleet. How much longer until your ritual is complete?"
Without a word, Sorax silently unsheathed his chain axe, ready for combat. Abaddon didn't press him further; he knew Sorax to be the most adept at escape among them. If the ritual failed, Sorax would have been the first to abandon them.
"They're here," Typhus said, gripping his scythe and looking straight ahead.
In the distance, around seven hundred meters away, rifts began to open, allowing some two hundred Iron Men to step through. They immediately came under fire. Black Legion Terminator squads unleashed their full arsenal on them, while other Chaos Space Marines turned their shoulders to face the enemy, pelting them with bolt shells. But the Iron Men remained unphased, standing amidst the hail of fire, their crimson sensors locking onto each foe.
The images from their visors transmitted back to Gray, the AI overseeing the planetary structure. Gray reviewed the enemy's numbers – five hundred and seventy-two Space Marines – and felt a surge of perplexity. Even with the assistance of bio-processors and neural implants, he couldn't comprehend why they'd choose to attack the celestial engine.
What manner of minds would board the celestial engine?
Even if they were unaware of the Iron Men, they should have known the engine was armed with weapon arrays that spanned thousands of kilometers – arrays so powerful their firing tremors alone could kill any life on the surface.
"Reckless… I've seen those who value life lightly, but rarely do I encounter ones who throw it away so freely…"