"Then follow the battle plan, brother—"
As Dukel spoke his final words, the flames on the overlapping wheels burned with searing intensity. In the next moment, like a blazing chariot of war, they carved a burning path across the blackened sky and crashed into the daemon-forged bastion.
"Come now! Show me what lies within!"
A road of fire split the heavens, and burning chariots rained down like meteors, slamming into the fortress's adamantium shell.
Boom!
Steel melted, ramparts buckled, and the very world trembled. The ground fractured into a thousand rifts, a shockwave of molten ruin sweeping outward. The inferno consumed all.
"Come forth and greet me, denizens of the warp!"
Within the smoldering wreckage of the citadel, steel vaporized into mist. In the thick, burning haze, Dukel's laughter thundered over the shattered battlements, echoing through the daemon keep that loomed like a blackened mountain.
TheLord of Ravens remained where he was.
Even before his words had fully faded, Dukel had already thrown himself into the fray.
Corvus hesitated for only a moment before he, too, moved. Inspired by the reckless charge, an unconscious smirk crossed his sharp features, and then he vanished into the darkness, melting into the shifting shadows like a phantom.
Dukel had long since forgotten him, lost in the battle's savage embrace. From the moment the war ignited, his lips curled in exhilaration. The massive, burning eye embedded in his forehead blazed with the power of his mind, scanning everything within sight.
A psychic lance of searing energy cut through the carnage like a god-forged blade.
A warband of Khorne's berserkers, numbering in the hundreds, surged forward from the ruins, weapons raised. The psychic beam swept across them, and when it passed, only charred husks remained.
Ding ding ding!
The fortress' alarms shrieked in unholy fury. From the ruins and smoke, daemons stirred.
"What is happening?!"
"Run! Flee before it is too late!"
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
The burning bastion had descended into complete bedlam, a hellscape more chaotic than a hive city overrun by a billion warring gangers.
The chasms rent by the battle split the keep into ruinous fragments. Suspended above it all, a gaunt figure, cloaked in flame-wreathed wheels, hovered in mid-air. His true eyes were shut, yet the blazing eye on his forehead remained wide open, unleashing searing beams of destruction upon anything bearing the taint of Chaos.
A Khorne warbringer leapt skyward, axe poised to cleave Dukel in twain—but before it could reach him, a skeletal hand, wreathed in unquenchable flame, closed around it.
Splat!
The berserker's body crumpled like parchment, daemon blood gushing between the Primarch's fingers. The arterial spray rained upon the ruined ground in a grotesque deluge.
And then they realized—
The thing above them was a monster in human shape.
With a triumphant roar, Dukel descended like a comet, crashing into the battlefield with the force of an orbital bombardment. The sheer impact sent a whirlwind of fire and debris outward, scouring the ranks of the damned.
"I come from the distant stars at the behest of my brother! Why does no one greet me?!"
"Lorgar?! Abaddon?! Or perhaps the lapdog of the gods? Any of you will do!"
"These lesser daemons are so very rude!"
His blazing gaze burned with wild abandon as he advanced through the ruined fortifications, leaving only ash and broken bodies in his wake.
Amidst the slaughter, a warband of Chaos Space Marines attempted to flee, retreating into the shadows of a ruined structure.
"We finally escaped that madness."
"There is no shame in retreat. That… that was beyond our reckoning."
Their whispers of reassurance were short-lived. They did not notice—could not notice—the pale figure watching them from the abyss of the darkened ruins.
Clawed gauntlets glinted coldly in the firelight.
In the brief seconds that followed, terrified screams shattered the air. The darkness writhed, a murder of shadowy ravens descending upon them with razor-sharp beaks and talons. When the birds dispersed, nothing remained but shredded corpses and armor pockmarked with a thousand punctures.
Wherever the burning wheels of Dukel tore through the fortress, the shadows of the Ravens followed, hunting in perfect synchronization.
Neither Primarch had anticipated such flawless synergy.
Where fire left naught but cinders, shadows struck unseen. Between the two, the daemons of the warp howled in terror.
Dukel, hovering in mid-air, nodded in satisfaction. "So, these local vermin will pay for their arrogance."
Then—
A monstrous roar split the air, deeper than thunder, more deafening than an orbital lance strike.
A structure the size of a hive tower was sundered as an unfathomable abomination emerged from within.
Corvus's expression darkened in the shadows.
"Dukel. This is a forbidden creation. A daemon engine unlike any before it—a war machine of nightmare."
A writhing monstrosity, a fusion of flesh and steel, slithered forth. Its serpentine appendages stretched over a hundred meters, its bulk rivaling a Titan. A grotesque fusion of bio-mechanics and warp-spawned horrors, it exuded nothing but malevolence.
The fortress' wards could no longer contain it. The beast had been unleashed.
"A dire war engine indeed," Dukel mused, eyes gleaming with something akin to anticipation.
If such an abomination ever reached the Imperium, the devastation it could bring was unthinkable.
Dukel wasted no time. Wrapped in burning wheels, he launched himself at the nightmare.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The forbidden construct unleashed a barrage of heavy munitions, a mobile arsenal spewing death at the Primarch charging toward it.
Its immense, tentacle-like appendages lashed out like whips, obliterating everything within a hundred meters.
A gale-force wind, strong enough to hurl mortals into the abyss, accompanied the beast's strike as it descended upon Dukel.
Yet Dukel neither dodged nor wavered. The flames surrounding him blazed brighter as he plunged headlong into the attack.
The monstrous tendrils shattered upon impact.
Dukel let out a booming laugh as he advanced. The mummy-serpent coiling around his limbs struck out, engaging the forbidden horror in a furious melee.
Their battle was apocalyptic. Each earth-shaking collision sent fissures racing across the ground, tearing the landscape asunder.
Chaos Apostles, still scrambling to escape, were caught in the storm of violence. Even the formidable daemons of Khorne were crushed into pulped ruin, their crimson forms obliterated in an instant.
"Fall back! Retreat now!" The shrieks of daemons echoed. "This is no longer a battlefield we can fight on!"
"A grotesque abomination..." The Lord of the Ravens muttered, his face shadowed with grim recognition. Though once beset by gods and daemons alike, he had not yet recovered from his injuries. Now, he hesitated to approach the carnage.
Still, even from a distance, he witnessed the monstrosity's might. A single lashing tentacle had leveled entire structures of the daemon fortress.
Walls meant to withstand sieges had crumbled as if they were made of dust, deep scars torn into the very bedrock beneath them.
The Astartes were as insects before such a horror—merely standing too close could mean their deaths.
A terror-machine of war.
The Raven Lord remained in the shadows. Against such an enemy, brute force was meaningless. Instead, he observed, searching for a weakness, an opening for a fatal strike.
"How will Dukel destroy this abomination?" Corvus Corax pondered. He felt no fear for Dukel's safety—his brother's presence here was merely an incarnation, summoned through blood sacrifice.
Just as he calculated the next move, the answer revealed itself.
The forbidden beast—massive as a mountain—was abruptly yanked from the ground. Dukel, gripping one of its massive tendrils, hurled it skyward before slamming it down with titanic force.
A deafening roar split the air. The construct's body crashed into a distant mountain, shattering the peak into rubble.
Even Corax, observing from afar, felt the tremor roll through the landscape.
A flaming chariot streaked through the sky, leaving a burning scar upon the battlefield.
In a blink, Dukel was upon his foe once more, seizing its battered form and flinging it again with monstrous strength.
Like a child tossing a ragdoll in fury.
But there was no innocence in this spectacle. The impact craters, the seismic shockwaves—each throw was an execution, a brutal symphony of destruction.
"Protect it! The Great Creation must not fall here!" roared a chorus of voices.
A contingent of Dark Mechanicus priests emerged, piloting twisted constructs of steel and flesh, rushing to the monster's aid.
Before they could reach it, another titanic impact crushed them to oblivion. Their remains smeared across the battlefield, reduced to mere stains upon the darkened soil.
The forbidden war-beast now lay still, its form mangled beyond repair. Repeatedly battered, its armored plating shattered, exposing circuitry that sparked with dying energy. Fire still licked its broken body, consuming it in slow, agonizing destruction.
Descending from the air, Dukel ripped through the remnants of its armor, tearing away flesh and steel alike.
Ravens circled and landed beside him, and from their midst, Corvus Corax emerged.
"Brother, what are you doing?"
"Seeking the core." Dukel's voice was grim, his expression uncharacteristically severe.
"This monstrosity is too powerful. Too dangerous. The Imperium must not allow it to exist. I will erase it completely."
Corax studied his brother, watched him wrench apart metal and sinew with his bare hands. He was silent for a moment, then nodded in solemn agreement.
"You are right. This creation is an abomination." The Raven Lord flexed the claws of his gauntlet, blades glinting. "I have a fair idea of where its core lies."
Together, they tore through the beast's remains, until at last they unearthed its vile heart.
From within the wreckage, they dragged forth a grotesque figure.
Humanoid in shape, yet inhuman in nature. Its flesh was sickly, mottled pink with festering patches. Disconnected from its daemon engine, its skeletal structure warped and pulsed unnaturally.
Knobby growths jutted from its joints. Curved horns adorned its brow. Its mouth—lined with black, razor-like teeth—opened in silent agony.
"This is it? This pathetic wretch controlled that monstrosity?" Dukel scoffed.
"It seems so," Corax murmured. "It was likely knocked unconscious during the battle. A design flaw, perhaps? I detect no other cognitive structure within the construct."
As he spoke, the creature stirred.
"No!" it shrieked. "This body is mine! This power belongs to me! Let me return! No one can take it from me!"
With a maddened wail, it thrashed, spitting venomous curses.
"Damn you, sons of betrayal! You wretched, forsaken spawn! The Warmaster rises! You miserable pawns—"
Dukel silenced it with a light kick.
Careful not to kill it outright, he merely pinned it beneath his foot, flames flickering around him.
"Answer my questions," he commanded, "and I will grant you peace."
Primordial power bled from him, the sheer presence of his being forcing clarity into the creature's writhing mind.
"Son of arrogance," it sneered, "you think I fear death? Why should I tell you anything?"
"Because death would be a mercy," Dukel replied. "Refuse, and I will see you torn apart, piece by piece. Believe me—there are fates worse than oblivion."
The creature shuddered, its defiance wavering. Blackened tears leaked from its unnatural eyes.
"Ask. I will answer."
"Why did Abaddon create you?"
"I know little, but I know this—the Warmaster prepares to strike at the remnants of the Cadian Gate. Mortarion has sworn allegiance to his cause."
A moment of silence.
Corax scoffed. "Mortarion? The Death Lord swearing fealty? He is not some desperate fool like Lorgar."
The daemon bared its jagged fangs, but before it could speak, Dukel cut in.
"It's plausible," he mused. "Mortarion acts for himself, always. He does not serve Abaddon—he merely advances his own schemes."
"And what do you think he plans?" Corax asked.
"It doesn't matter," Dukel said dismissively. "Mortarion always plays at defiance, but in the end, he bends. Whatever game he plays, it will collapse."
Corax considered this, then nodded. "Perhaps."
The daemon seized the moment. "I know more—about Mortarion's designs. Let me live, and I will tell you."
Dukel grinned.
"Why so eager? Do you hope to redirect my wrath? Sorry, but I don't care what Mortarion schemes."
Without waiting for a response, Dukel thrust his hand into the other's body, tearing through ruined flesh and bone. When he withdrew it, a crystalline orb—perfectly smooth and unnaturally clear—gleamed in his grasp.
"Crack—"
He crushed it without hesitation. A surge of raw, malevolent energy spilled forth, twisting the air with its sheer presence. Echoing laughter, warped and maddening, spilled from the rift it left behind.
The Lord of Ravens stiffened, his expression darkening. Even he hesitated to name the entity bound within that sphere—an existence that lurked deep within the Immaterium, beyond reckoning or control.
"Another damn scheme." Dukel sneered, shaking off the residual energy.
Then he turned to Clarks. "Brother, will you return with me? We could rebuild your Legion."
The Raven Lord exhaled, shaking his head. "My purpose is better served here."
"Suit yourself." Dukel cast a glance at his own hand. His fingers, his very flesh, had begun to erode—turning to dust, crumbling with every passing moment.
"I've fought long enough. Time to prepare for the next war."
He smiled, offering a final farewell before vanishing into the encroaching abyss. The last flickers of his presence faded, and the world was swallowed by darkness once more.
The Raven Lord stood alone.
"I'm sorry, brother. I'm a coward for fleeing reality."
His whispered confession echoed into the void.
Ten thousand years ago, he had seen too much, suffered too much. The Imperium he had once believed in had betrayed every ideal he had fought for. His own kin had fallen by his hand.
So he had left.
Abandoning his Legion, forsaking his oaths, he had disappeared into the Immaterium.
Not out of strategy. Not out of duty.
But because it was the only escape he had left.