Chapter 56 The Red-Skinned, One-Eyed Ogryn Has Arrived

To execute the War Titan Apotheosis, Vane first needed to physically forge the ‘Crown of War’ and synthesize the localized conceptual energy required for the ascension.

The Crown of War was an endgame artifact requiring five hyper-rare, highly specific components: a Core of Laws, an Eye of Chaos, a Fragment of the Starnova Core, a block of Primordial Divine Metal, and the Skull of War.

Vane began by rapidly synthesizing the Core of Laws. The recipe demanded Netherite ingots, an Empty Core, a Dragon Egg, and Fragments of Reality, all processed through a Magical Infusion Altar heavily fueled by Nether Stars and Soul Fuel.

After meticulously organizing the crafting materials into their designated geometric slots, Vane activated the Magical Infusion Altar.

The ingredients instantly dissolved into streams of localized conceptual energy, violently funneling into the Empty Core in the center. The core rapidly mutated, crystallizing into a mesmerizing, translucent gem that radiated a breathtaking, swirling aura.

If one looked closely, they could physically see an infinite, micro-galaxy slowly rotating within the crystal.

The Core of Laws was an apocalyptic artifact in its own right. Equipping it passively granted the user functionally infinite MP and a mathematically absurd, hyper-scaling multiplier to all magical damage output.

Staring at the freshly synthesized Core of Laws, Eldrad, Yvraine, and the Aeldari delegation felt a profound, instinctual greed violently flare in their minds.

Even Chief Librarian Tigurius and Grand Master Voldus found it excruciatingly difficult to tear their eyes away from the crystal.

A terrifying, seductive whisper aggressively echoed in the back of their minds: If I can just seize that artifact, I will instantly possess absolute, unparalleled power.

Vane casually tossed the Core of Laws into his inventory, completely ignoring the heavy breathing of the psykers in the room, and moved on to the next component.

The Eye of Chaos was a relatively standard synthesis: an Enchanted Golden Apple, an Amethyst Block, an Eye of Ender, and a Ghast Tear. Done.

The Fragment of the Starnova Core was significantly more tedious. It required Aquamarine (to channel astral energy), a Celestial Crystal (synthesized from Stardust and Liquid Starlight), and a Shooting Star Fragment.

All of these components had to be combined with Stardust and a block of Starlight-Infused Wood on a specialized Astral Sorcery Altar.

The final two components were fundamentally impossible to craft. Primordial Divine Metal required the player to physically locate and mine a localized asteroid, and the Skull of War only dropped after successfully executing the War Titan boss.

To save real-world time, Vane aggressively liquidated a massive chunk of his EMC points to instantly replicate both items.

With all five components secured, Vane finalized the synthesis, officially forging the Crown of War.

The absolute microsecond Guilliman equipped the Crown, he would instantly assume the conceptual authority of War and trigger Apotheosis.

Meanwhile, Archmagos Cawl was meticulously following Vane’s directive, rapidly initiating the equipping sequence for the Armor of Fate.

Several high-ranking Tech-Priests ceremoniously hauled the massive reliquary containing the armor to the foot of Guilliman’s stasis-throne.

“Ten thousand years of sacred duty… today, the grand equation is finally resolved.”

Cawl’s vocal synthesizer crackled with a rare hint of genuine, synthetic emotion.

He had aggressively sacrificed astronomical resources, entire Forge Worlds, and countless millions of lives just to complete this singular suit of power armor.

He inputted the final command codes. The reliquary chimed a series of sharp verification tones before unfolding like a hyper-complex mechanical lotus.

Hundreds of silver mechadendrites smoothly extended from the casing, carefully wrapping around Guilliman’s massive frame to begin the localized armor-replacement surgery.

But right at that exact microsecond, deafening, apocalyptic klaxons violently shattered the silence of the Shrine.

The forces of Chaos had launched an unprecedented, catastrophic orbital assault! Several hyper-massive, planet-sized Arks of Omen had violently translated out of the Warp directly into Macragge’s high orbit, immediately unleashing an apocalyptic, indiscriminate orbital bombardment upon the planet’s surface.

Powered by the direct, united intervention of the Four Chaos Gods, Abaddon the Despoiler and Vashtorr the Arkifane had traversed the Immaterium at impossible speeds, arriving with an armada of incomprehensible scale.

The localized Imperial defense fleets were completely, violently overwhelmed. The Chaos armada aggressively punched straight through the defensive lines, and the concentrated orbital lance strikes forcefully shattered the Fortress of Hera’s primary Void Shields.

A crippled, burning Ultramarines Thunderhawk gunship completely lost control, violently crashing straight through the massive domed ceiling of the Shrine.

The roof catastrophically caved in, raining massive chunks of marble, twisted adamantium, and shattered stained glass upon the defenders like a lethal meteor shower.

Before the Ultramarines could even recover from the impact, the deafening, terrifying shriek of atmospheric entry echoed from above.

Dozens of heavily armored Dreadclaw Drop Pods violently slammed directly into the sanctum’s polished floor.

Hundreds of heavily corrupted Chaos Terminators aggressively charged out of the drop pods, instantly opening fire on the loyalists.

Massive Heldrakes shrieked as they dove through the shattered ceiling, vomiting torrents of daemonic autocannon fire directly into the Imperial defensive lines.

A brutal, chaotic melee violently erupted instantly, the deafening roar of bolter fire and revving chainswords echoing across the sacred hall.

“DEFENSIVE PERIMETER! ENGAGE THE ENEMY!” Calgar roared over the vox-net, instantly rallying the Ultramarines to form an absolute, unbreakable shield wall around their sleeping Primarch.

Completely ignoring the apocalyptic firefight raging mere feet away, Vane casually strolled up to the throne holding the Crown of War and began loudly monologuing.

“Guilliman! The absolute moment you equip this Crown of War, you will transcend mortality!”

“You must completely, absolutely sever all worldly desires! You are mathematically forbidden from taking a queen or experiencing romantic love! If you ever feel the localized stirrings of desire, the Crown will aggressively tighten around your skull, causing you infinite, excruciating agony!”

Standing right next to him, Sanguinius listened to the dramatic speech, his face twisting in deep confusion. He carefully opened a telepathic channel to Vane.

Forefather… is this highly specific, celibacy-inducing monologue actually a required step in the Apotheosis Ritual?

Nope, Vane casually shook his head. I just thought it sounded really cinematic and added some solid dramatic tension to the scene.

Sanguinius desperately bit his lip to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

Apotheosis is a literal, cosmic-scale event! Why does the Forefather constantly aggressively derail the tone with absolute nonsense?!

BOOM!!!

A catastrophic, corrupted teleportation flare violently erupted in the center of the Shrine, projecting a shockwave that physically hurled both loyalist and traitor Astartes backward.

Abaddon the Despoiler, wielding the screaming daemon sword Drach’nyen, stepped out of the teleportarium flare alongside his new ally, Vashtorr the Arkifane.

They were heavily flanked by the Bringers of Despair, Abaddon’s elite, hyper-lethal Terminator honor guard composed entirely of Great Crusade veterans.

“Sanguinius. The intelligence was accurate. You actually resurrected.”

The microsecond Abaddon laid eyes on the Great Angel, his heart violently skipped a beat.

But then he remembered that he currently possessed the absolute, unified backing of the Four Chaos Gods. For millennia, even the Daemon Primarchs had been forced to obey his commands. His confidence aggressively surged back.

He’s just Sanguinius. My father literally beat him into bloody pulp ten thousand years ago. I can absolutely do the same.

“It has been a long time, Abaddon. I genuinely never expected you to usurp my brother’s position and become the willing lapdog of the Ruinous Powers.”

Sanguinius turned to face the former First Captain of the Luna Wolves.

For a brief, agonizing microsecond, Sanguinius felt a profound wave of melancholy as ancient memories resurfaced.

He remembered the era before the Heresy. When Horus was still the Emperor’s absolute favorite son.

Horus had been a masterful tactician, yet incredibly compassionate and generous. He could casually, warmly converse with every single Primarch. Even Lion El’Jonson, who constantly, aggressively competed with Horus for the title of Warmaster, fundamentally respected him.

“I am no one’s lapdog! I am superior to my father! The Gods work for me!”

Abaddon roared, leveling Drach’nyen directly at Sanguinius without a microsecond of fear.

Right at that moment, another catastrophic surge of psychic energy violently erupted.

A blinding vortex of swirling, hyper-complex sorcery materialized mid-air, tearing open a massive portal.

An overwhelmingly oppressive, terrifying aura flooded the Shrine, causing the loyalist Astartes to physically shudder in profound, instinctual dread.

Magnus the Red, a towering, red-skinned giant sporting a single glowing eye, massive sweeping horns, colossal feathered wings, and wielding a crackling force-staff, casually stepped out of the portal.

His single eye swept across the room with cold, absolute, god-like authority. The sheer, overwhelming psychic pressure radiating from him aggressively paralyzed the loyalist defenders with terror.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t the galaxy’s absolute biggest clown! The Red-Skinned, One-Eyed Ogryn!”

“What are you doing here? Crashing your brother’s house party?! You traveled all this way and you didn’t even bring a gift?! Looks like you’re completely broke and unemployed!”

“Hey, Yvraine! Can you ping the Laughing God and ask if the Harlequins are currently hiring?! Magnus needs a job! He wouldn’t even need to apply makeup; he could literally walk onto the stage and instantly start working as the lead clown!”

“Kids these days… they eventually have to grow up and get a real job! You can’t just loiter in the Warp with those daemonic street-thugs all day doing absolutely nothing!”

Just as Vane was casually placing the Crown of War onto Guilliman’s head, he spotted Magnus stepping out of the portal and instantly began roasting him at the top of his lungs.

Hearing Vane’s absolute, unhinged barrage of insults, Magnus’s overwhelming aura of god-like terror instantly shattered. His jaw violently dropped, and his single eye twitched in pure, apoplectic rage.

Who the absolute hell just called me the galaxy’s biggest clown?! Who just called me a RED-SKINNED, ONE-EYED OGRYN?!

Sanguinius completely failed to hold it in, bursting into genuine, hearty laughter.

The Forefather is absolutely unmatched. There is literally no entity in the universe he won’t casually, aggressively bully.