Chapter 47 Someone Needs to Take Their Viagra

Baal, the Arx Angelicum.

“Almost done.” Vane watched as the Halo of the End seamlessly merged with the Great Angel, a highly satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Successfully secured one demigod Primarch!

“Is the Great Angel truly resurrecting?!” “His physical body is completely restored!

By the Emperor, our father is actually even more handsome than the ancient pict-captures!” “…” Dante and the Blood Angels were trembling with escalating, ecstatic disbelief.

Suddenly, a catastrophic, apocalyptic tremor violently shook the entire Fortress-Monastery.

The bedrock groaned and shattered as if the world itself was ending.

“What is happening?!” Dante instantly keyed his command vox, linking directly to the surface perimeter guard.

“Incursion!

Massive Daemonic Incursion!” the panicked voice of a surface commander screamed over the vox-net.

“It is our arch-nemesis!

Ka’Bandha!

He has manifested on the surface of Baal!” “Ka’Bandha?!” Hearing that cursed name, the expressions of Dante, Mephiston, Seth, and every other Blood Angel instantly twisted into masks of absolute horror and fury.

“What are you kids so worried about?” Vane sighed, looking deeply disappointed in their lack of faith.

“Your dad literally just ascended to godhood.

If he can’t even solo a single Greater Daemon on his first day on the job, what was the point of making him a god in the first place?” Hearing Vane’s blunt logic, Dante and the others immediately snapped their attention back to the blindingly radiant form of Sanguinius.

Can the Great Angel genuinely defeat Ka’Bandha?!

— Simultaneously, a colossal, hyper-massive Hellgate violently tore open in the Rubekal region on the surface of Baal.

Rubekal was deeply sacred to the Baalite tribes.

Its mountain ranges were rich in Bloodstone deposits, making it a region of extreme localized psychic resonance.

This very psychic turbulence made it the absolute perfect anchor point for a massive Warp-breach.

As the Hellgate fully stabilized, a deafening, apocalyptic roar echoed from within.

The sky above Rubekal instantly turned the color of freshly spilled blood.

The bedrock violently fractured, and boiling, geyser-like eruptions of liquid blood blasted from the earth.

Mountains of jagged bone forcefully grew from the soil, and the very crust of the planet mutated into screaming, agonizing flesh.

The infinite, brass-clad legions of the Blood God began pouring through the portal, marching in perfect, hyper-disciplined phalanxes numbering in sacred multiples of eight.

Bloodletters with skin the color of flayed muscle marched forward, wielding massive Hellblades wreathed in black fire.

Packs of Flesh Hounds, possessing razor-sharp fangs, thick armored scales, spiked spines, and bizarre, frilled spinal membranes akin to ancient iguanas, aggressively scouted the flanks.

Massive Bloodcrushers, ridden by towering Juggernauts, violently trampled the screaming earth.

The sheer scale and variety of the Khornate demonic host were mathematically absurd.

Flanked by his elite guard, the Bloodthirster Ka’Bandha confidently strode through the towering Hellgate and slammed his hooves onto the surface of Baal.

But at that exact microsecond, deep beneath the planet’s surface, the body of the Great Angel violently shuddered, permanently shattering the chains of death and fully anchoring his soul back into realspace.

Sanguinius extended his right hand.

Blinding, hyper-dense conceptual light violently coalesced into his palm, instantly forging a colossal spear wreathed in divine, white-hot fire.

The Great Angel violently snapped his wings downward, generating a catastrophic, localized shockwave.

Before the awestruck eyes of his sons, he blasted off the floor like a hypersonic missile, tearing directly upward through the bedrock and shooting into the bloody sky like a radiant comet, aiming squarely for the Hellgate.

The Sanguinor and the tens of thousands of glowing, ethereal spirits of the ancient Blood Angels immediately followed, diving into battle alongside their resurrected Primarch.

“SANGUINIUS!

I HAVE COME FOR YOUR—” Stepping through the portal onto the surface of Baal, Ka’Bandha threw his head back and roared his challenge.

But before he could even finish his sentence, he looked up and saw a literal, blinding sun plummeting from the sky, wreathed in apocalyptic fire, screaming directly toward his face.

Operating on pure, panicked instinct, Ka’Bandha desperately raised his massive brass battleaxe to block the strike.

CLANG!!!

An apocalyptic, ear-shattering shockwave of colliding metal violently ruptured the eardrums of every mortal within fifty miles.

A microsecond later, Ka’Bandha’s legendary, hellfire-forged battleaxe violently shattered into pieces.

Ka’Bandha’s eyes bulged in absolute, unadulterated disbelief.

Before his demonic brain could even process the destruction of his weapon, Sanguinius’s blazing spear violently impaled him directly through the chest.

Boiling, acidic demonic blood violently geysered from the catastrophic wound.

Under the terrified gazes of millions of Khornate Daemons, their supreme commander was violently clotheslined by the furiously radiant Sanguinius, blasted completely backward through the Hellgate, and violently pinned to the skeletal plains of the Warp.

The entire engagement lasted less than three seconds.

The infinite demonic host instantly fell dead silent.

They stared at the Hellgate, absolutely paralyzed by profound shock and primal terror.

Ka’Bandha was literally one of the strongest Bloodthirsters in existence!

He was instantly one-shot the microsecond he spawned!

Is Sanguinius’s actually this fundamentally broken?!

Standing over the pinned Bloodthirster, Sanguinius violently ripped his spear free, swung it in a blinding arc, and cleanly decapitated Ka’Bandha, casually crushing the massive horned skull under his armored boot.

Then, turning his gaze—burning with incandescent, holy fire—toward the infinite, shifting madness of the Immaterium, Sanguinius spoke with a voice that echoed with absolute, divine authority.

“Hear me, Ruinous Powers, and all abominations that seek to defile the material realm!

I am Sanguinius!

The Angel of Final Judgment!” “Your infinite malice has fundamentally destabilized the cosmic balance!

A day will come when I shall manifest as the Fire of Judgment, and I shall burn your entire domains to ash!” — Meanwhile, Dante and the other Chapter Masters had frantically rushed to the surface, arriving just in time to witness Sanguinius violently impale Ka’Bandha through the portal and declare open war on the Chaos Gods.

“Forefather…

what is your tactical assessment of this engagement?” Dante turned to Vane, speaking with breathless awe.

Hearing Dante’s question, Seth, Mephiston, and the others instantly perked up, desperate to hear Vane’s strategic insight.

Vane stroked his chin, adopting a look of deep, scholarly contemplation, before nodding sagely.

“Honestly?

If Ka’Bandha got completely folded in under three seconds, he clearly suffers from severe premature ejaculation.

He needs to start taking some heavy-duty Viagra.” Dante: “…” Seth: “…” Mephiston: “…” Every single Blood Angel present: “…” We really, genuinely shouldn’t have expected anything.

How could we possibly believe the Forefather would ever give us a serious, dignified answer?

— On the absolute opposite side of the galaxy, deep within the Planet of the Sorcerers, Magnus the Red, the Daemon Primarch of Tzeentch, also detected the catastrophic Warp anomaly.

He pulled a hyper-complex deck of crystalline Tarot cards from his robes, rapidly shuffling them and channeling his psychic power to divine the exact nature of the galactic disruption.

He reached out and flipped the top card.

The image depicted a blindingly radiant angel wielding a blazing sword and the Scales of Justice.

“This card…

this card doesn’t exist in the standard Tarot deck.

What does this mean?” Magnus frowned deeply, lifting the card to analyze the psychic metadata inscribed upon it.

[The Angel of Final Judgment] [He has arrived.

He is born.

He has sworn to the universe that all existence shall face His absolute judgment.] The card explicitly symbolized the absolute, unavoidable final judgment at the end of all existence.

The Angel depicted represented the concept of ‘The End’, signifying that all entities would be forced to answer for their sins.

“The Angel of Final Judgment…?” Magnus narrowed his single, glowing eye, aggressively analyzing the artwork for deeper meaning.

Suddenly, the absolute, terrifying realization struck him.

His pupil violently contracted in sheer shock.

No…

That is impossible…

Sanguinius is completely dead!

How could he possibly resurrect, let alone ascend into the Angel of Final Judgment?!

I am the greatest scholar in the universe!

I possess infinite, unfathomable cosmic knowledge, and even I failed to achieve true, independent Apotheosis!

By what right did Sanguinius achieve godhood?!

I was the most gifted of all the Primarchs!

Why does Sanguinius get to ascend while I remain a slave to Tzeentch?!

It’s unfair!

This entire universe is fundamentally, catastrophically unfair!

Magnus’s absolute, blinding fury erupted.

A catastrophic psychic shockwave violently blasted outward, completely atomizing everything within his immediate vicinity into subatomic dust.

Suddenly, a swirling, localized Warp portal flared into existence, violently projecting bizarre, shifting multi-colored light.

Kairos Fateweaver, the Oracle of Tzeentch, casually stepped out of the portal.

“Kekeke!

Magnus!

Whatever could possibly have enraged you so profoundly?” “That is absolutely none of your business,” Magnus glared at the two-headed Greater Daemon.

“Since you are so opposed to sharing, I shall not pry.

I am simply here to deliver a direct, overriding decree from the Architect of Fate.” Kairos didn’t bother playing games, directly stating his objective.

“A direct decree?

What decree?” Magnus’s interest was instantly piqued.

Ever since his ascension to Daemonhood, Tzeentch had largely left him alone.

Even when the God required his services, it was always handled through layers of infinite, maddening conspiracies and manipulation.

For Tzeentch to issue a direct, unambiguous command was incredibly rare.

“The Master demands you immediately redeploy your forces to Macragge.” “Why?” Magnus frowned, genuinely confused.

“Belisarius Cawl, the Archmagos who escaped the Cadian Gate, is currently in possession of the Armor of Fate.

Combined with the death-magic possessed by Yvraine of the Ynnari, they possess the mathematical probability of reviving Roboute Guilliman from his stasis.” “You must absolutely prevent this from happening.

The exact tactical execution is left to your discretion, but the Master strongly advises you to move quickly.” Having delivered the decree, Kairos stepped back into the swirling Warp portal and vanished from Magnus’s sorcerous citadel.

Magnus fell into deep, calculating silence.

For the Changer of Ways to completely abandon His usual riddles and issue such a blunt, desperate command…

the situation must be genuinely critical.

Very well.

I will travel to Macragge.