"Next!"
"Next!"
"Next!"
The crowd in the stands cheered. They roared themselves hoarse, shouting the same phrase as Loken.
If not for the firewall, such intense emotions would have surely stirred a terrifying storm in the Warp.
Duels are a primitive and outdated form of entertainment.
Yet, in this situation, they managed to unite humanity in an unprecedented way. Through simple and brutal means, they satisfied the people's pride in their race, letting them know that humanity was not weak. To be born human was the greatest gift bestowed upon them by an unseen destiny.
Abaddon, bound by chains, entered the arena under the gaze of all.
When he appeared, the uproar reached a crescendo, then strangely quieted down.
Everyone was staring at this traitor.
First Captain of the Sons of Horus, the Despoiler, successor to Horus, leader of the Black Legion, and Warmaster chosen by the Chaos Gods.
Every title evoked disgust and hatred. The people watched as the great traitor was dragged forward, their eyes filled with all the hatred they could express.
Abaddon was once the most severe threat faced by the Imperium of Man.
His danger surpassed that of the tyranids, necrons, orks, and others.
Every Imperial citizen knew this terrifying individual.
He orchestrated one Black Crusade after another, breached the Cadian Gate, and came within a hair's breadth of sending the Imperium and humanity down the path of destruction.
During the Horus Heresy, his presence was noted in major events such as Istvaan, Molech, and Beta-Garmon.
He was exceptionally active during the Siege of Terra.
He attacked the Pluto system, captured the Moon, and led the ground war on Terra.
Many heroes met their tragic end at Abaddon's hands, becoming souls claimed by his blade.
Over a thousand years after Horus' defeat, he brutally slew the aged Sigismund.
Subsequently, many more heroes fell before his sword.
Among those below the daemon Primarchs, Abaddon was the one the Imperium most wished to see dead. The Imperial citizens' loathing for this traitor was palpable.
If looks could kill, Abaddon would have been sliced into countless pieces by now. The Custodians dragged him forward, roughly, as if pulling a wild beast.
As they pulled, they also prodded him with their halberds.
No matter how Abaddon resisted or roared, it was futile. The Custodians, having undergone the Imperial Heart implantation, possessed strength far exceeding Abaddon's.
Abaddon was also laden with various restraining devices, making it impossible for him to resist the brutal strength of the Custodians.
Once he was dragged into the arena, the hovering servo-skulls slowly began to unlock the restraining devices on Abaddon, and injected him with a restorative serum to bring him to peak condition. This was Loken's demand. To humiliate Abaddon to the greatest extent possible, to break his limbs and spine while he was at his peak, leaving him to collapse like a pile of mud on the ground.
Loken turned around and looked at Abaddon, who was now free of his restraints and stretching his muscles. The former First Captain was still tall and imposing. The Warp had bestowed many blessings upon this traitor, allowing him to maintain peak physical condition even after twelve thousand years.
His Terminator armor, which had accompanied him for so long, had been repaired and now adorned him. Terminator armor was incredibly bulky, transforming its wearer into a walking tank, but this extra protection came at the cost of speed.
During the Great Crusade, Space Marines wearing Terminator armor were generally considered ponderous and were only used as assault units.
Only Abaddon, with his immense strength, could wear Terminator power armor and move with the same agility as if he were wearing standard power armor.
Abaddon glared at Loken.
His eyes openly displayed his hatred and his desire to bite through the other's throat.
He knew what Loken intended to do. This bastard, who should have died long ago, had returned to the material universe with the help of that beast, Guilliman.
He would use his despicable methods to make him kneel before him, to become a stepping stone for his honor and applause.
Abaddon had personally witnessed Erebus, his spine broken, being carried away by the Custodians.
He had also heard the deafening cheers.
For a warrior, what a terrible humiliation that was. To be defeated in public, to become a laughing stock for the entertainment of mere mortals.
Abaddon could not accept such a fate.
He selected a longsword from the hovering weapon rack.
He swung it a few times, feeling that it was roughly as heavy as the daemon sword Drach'nyen.
After being captured by Calgar, the daemon sword had also been seized by the Imperium.
His only consolation was that the Talon of Horus was still in his hand. The Imperials had not dismantled this weapon, which had once drunk the blood of many heroes and the Emperor, but had instead given it to Abaddon.
"You won't humiliate me!" Abaddon, now free of his restraints, roared. He charged forward like a savage, terrifying beast, letting out a deafening bellow. The Talon of Horus in his hand crackled with deadly electricity.
"You don't get to decide, Ezekyle!" Loken also charged, his eyes reflecting a hatred and battle lust no less intense than Abaddon's. Ten millennia of grievances.
He was settling scores, exacting revenge for those who could not return. The two clashed amidst the thunderous impact of their power armor. Their struggle was like that of sworn enemies with an unquenchable hatred.
A charged claw swiped at Loken's head, which he dodged by bending at the waist.
Abaddon revealed a cruel smile.
"That move always works, Loken."
That last strike was merely a feint; Abaddon reached out, intending to grab the edge of Loken's shoulder plate.
Once he had a grip, he would knee him, giving this damned bastard a harsh lesson.
Loken countered with an elbow, deflecting the Talon of Horus, and with his other hand, swung his warhammer towards Abaddon's waist. The sequence of movements was as fluid as flowing water.
Abaddon's face darkened as he stumbled back a few steps.
"Do you think everyone is as brainless as you? Don't you learn from experience?" Loken said in a deep voice, "After the battle on Istvaan, I imagined countless ways to counter that move of yours. I've seen through you, Abaddon. Even without the limitless power hidden within this body, I can defeat you."
"That's just a dream; you'll never defeat me." Abaddon took thunderous, heavy steps and charged again.
His heavily armored body easily crushed everything in its path. The Despoiler rampaged, and the battlefield echoed with continuous roars.
Loken gazed at his former brother's desperate charge.
His eyes slowly grew cold, indifferent, entering a strange state of calm.
Every muscle in this extraordinary body tensed under his will.
"The time for reckoning has come."
"Welcome to the Luna Wolves."
At the recruiting station, Abaddon, newly promoted to First Captain, addressed the new recruits.
"You have performed exceptionally, Gavriel Loken, the Tenth Company is yours."
On the battlefield of Ullanor, Abaddon clapped Loken on the shoulder, and together with Seyjanus, handed the appointment papers personally signed by Horus to a delighted Loken.
"A great victory at Ullanor! Our gene-father has become Warmaster! Let us cheer for this!"
At the banquet, Abaddon raised his strong, powerful arms, cheering to all the Luna Wolves.
All the Luna Wolves pounded on the tables, shouting the name of the Wolf God.
How happy that moment was.
"For the honor of the Legion, Loken, don't be a coward. If you're really scared, I'll give you a bolter, then you can blow up that idiot Lucius. Hahahaha."
When numerous Legions gathered, they would compete in the gladiatorial arena, showcasing the skills they had learned during that time.
Abaddon would lead the Mournival and many combat masters, striving to earn honor for Horus.
"You have become a member of the Mournival. As long as we work together, we can earn more honor for the Sons of Horus."
Memories flashed through Loken's mind, making his grip on his sword even firmer.
"I once considered you a brother." Loken shifted his stance slightly, adopting a combat posture.
He looked at the roaring, maddened Abaddon and spoke in Cthonian, their homeworld's secret language, "The same blood once flowed in our veins, but you have betrayed the spirit of Cthonian defiance. The children of Cthonia are born in desolation, yet they never yield to the terrifying wilderness."
The stronger the camaraderie of old, the bitterer the fruit borne by the tree of betrayal.
He would never forget the oath he made on Istvaan III, never betray the vow he swore to exterminate all traitors, and certainly never go back on the words he spoke in the presence of Malcador the Sigillite and the Emperor.
"I shall defend the Imperium, dedicating my life to the future of humanity. I shall resolutely oppose my former comrades, standing utterly against them, breaking all ties. I shall draw my sword against the gods, even if it means eternal damnation, without release. I seek no honor, nor fear reward or punishment; this oath is set, and I shall adhere to it unswervingly."
"Loken!" Abaddon roared through gritted teeth.
Loken met him, raising his warhammer amidst the roar.
Leaping electrical arcs illuminated his face.
Abaddon swung his sword, attempting to parry.
But the brute force of the warhammer made his longsword fly from his grasp upon impact, and even his hand went numb. The armor on his palm shattered instantly, and his flesh was torn by the immense impact.
Blood flowed freely.
Loken seized the opportunity, leaping up, and with his other hand, using the force of gravity, his muscular strength, and the power of his armor, he slammed his fist into Abaddon's face.
"This punch is revenge for your betrayal."
Abaddon's head snapped to the side, fragments of his helmet mixed with flesh flying off.
"This punch is a mockery of your stupidity."
Loken squatted, then unleashed a powerful uppercut, sending Abaddon's entire body flying before he crashed heavily to the ground, his jaw completely shattered.
If not for the blessings of the Four Gods and the cushioning of his Terminator power armor, his entire head would have been shattered by Loken's punch.
Abaddon tried to stand up.
But Loken kicked him in the abdomen, sending him tumbling.
"Didn't you say the path you chose was the right one, Ezekyle?"
Loken walked over, and as Abaddon tried to prop up his broken body, he stomped on his head with force, pressing him back onto the shattered floor.
"Let your gods save you, Ezekyle! Bring forth the arrogance and wildness you once displayed on Istvaan III!"
"Loken!" Abaddon roared, straining to lift his head, but Loken pressed him down again and again with force.
If Loken hadn't been controlling his strength, his head would have been crushed like a watermelon.
"Just think about your arrogant demeanor when you committed those atrocities in the solar system, and your rampant behavior when you attacked the Imperial Palace. Now look at you, a piece of trash that anyone can step on."
Loken's words were like a dagger to Abaddon's heart, making his eyes bulge with rage as he let out continuous low growls.
He used every inch of his muscle strength, slowly lifting Loken's steel boot with his face.
Every cell screamed, operating with strength beyond their limits.
"No matter how hard you try, it won't change the fact that you're an ant."
Loken suddenly exerted force, and Abaddon was pressed down again. There was even a cracking sound as he crashed through the floor, sending countless fragments flying.
His helmet was deformed, and his face was stained with blood.
"Kill me," Abaddon, trampled under Loken's foot, whispered, sobbing. "Gavriel, for the sake of our past brotherhood, kill me."
Such humiliation broke Abaddon.
Loken, however, revealed an extremely cruel smile.
"I once begged you like this, asking you not to do those things. Do you remember? Your answer then is my answer now, Ezekyle. You will suffer eternally, and your humiliation will continue until time itself ceases to exist. This is the price of betrayal."
Loken stepped on Abaddon's head, raised his weapon to the audience, and let out a deafening roar.
"Victory!"
This single word seemed to flip a switch.
Everyone cheered along.
"Victory!"
"Victory!"
They were all screaming.
Abaddon sobbed softly amidst the deafening cheers.
If not for his betrayal, he too would have enjoyed such honor.
Worshipped by countless people, his statue would stand on Terra, and human history books would record the impressive achievements of Abaddon of Cthonia during the Great Crusade.
Now, he was a pathetic traitor, trampled underfoot.
All people could give him was contempt and curses. The name Abaddon symbolized eternal disgrace.
A beam of teleportation light pierced the sky and landed on the open ground of the dueling arena.
Neatly arranged Custodian Guards, clad in golden armor, emerged from it, followed by the Honor Guard led by Sicarius.
Close behind them were two Primarchs with noble and dignified countenances.
One was Corvus Corax, the Primarch of the Raven Guard. The other was Vulkan, the Primarch of the Salamanders.
Sharrowkyn and many of the revived Raven Guard looked emotional. After so many years, they finally saw their gene-father again, even if he no longer led them.
But their reverence for him would never fade. Taras was already crying uncontrollably when Vulkan walked out.
When he first learned of Vulkan's demise, he had fainted. The other Salamanders warriors were the same.
If they hadn't already known that Vulkan had publicly announced he would no longer lead the Salamanders Legion, nor accept fealty from any of his sons, for the stability of the Imperium and the future of humanity,
they would have surely rushed forward and pledged their loyalty.
People also watched in awe as the two Primarchs emerged from the teleportation beam. Tall, majestic, and charismatic, they looked like true gods.
Loken also gaped, the two Primarchs radiated an even greater aura than during the Great Crusade, instilling a sense of awe that made it difficult to look directly at them.
He felt a little uneasy, not knowing that this duel would attract the attention of the Primarchs.
However, the person who emerged next surprised both the world and Loken even more. The beam of light suddenly expanded, as if a giant was about to step through from the other side, and the passage was too narrow. The teleportation beam became increasingly bright, making it hard to look directly at, then dimmed, revealing a towering giant. The newcomer wore no helmet, only a delicate laurel wreath on his forehead.
His noble face was fully visible, and all who saw him felt as though they were witnessing all the light and miracles of this world.
Enough to make anyone pledge eternal loyalty at first sight.
People in the audience stood up one after another, tears streaming down their faces, making the Aquila sign on their chests to show their respect to the newcomer.
Even those who watched through broadcast facilities did the same.
No one commanded them to do so.
Doing so required no command. The newcomer was none other than the Emperor of the Imperium, the new Emperor, the supreme monarch who had brought all the heavens and cosmos under human rule.
Horus shattered the Emperor's dream, but the Emperor reshaped a new dream for humanity, guiding the lost firmly towards that grand ideal.
Everyone would undoubtedly lay down their lives for the Emperor's dream.
Guilliman walked towards Loken under the gaze of billions.
"Long time no see, Loken."
Loken was dumbfounded, his shocked heart like the electro-plasma storms of Cthonia, unable to calm down.
He knew that the former Thirteenth had taken over the Emperor's duties, becoming the Emperor, and had garnered even greater reverence and love than his father.
It was because of the Thirteenth that the Imperium could rise from the brink of disaster, even recalling long-dead beings like them.
He knew it, but this close meeting was the first time.
Loken struggled to suppress the surging emotions in his heart.
He awkwardly began, "Your, Your Majesty."
"No need to be formal," Guilliman chuckled. "You weren't like this before."
"You weren't the Emperor before! Nor did you possess such power and majesty then," many complex thoughts surfaced in Loken's mind. He deliberated for a moment, unable to think of a suitable reply, and could only respectfully say again, "Your Majesty."
"Alright, I won't tease you anymore." Guilliman patted Loken's shoulder. "You've done well, but you need to release Abaddon now. If you kill him, we won't find another. I'm hoping to use him as a negative example for those who wish to defect to Chaos."
Loken nodded and withdrew his foot. The half-dead Abaddon was dragged away by servitor skulls.
Abaddon had initially wanted to utter some defiant words upon seeing Guilliman, but considering Guilliman's prestige, if he spoke harshly, countless warriors would likely demand a duel with him.
At that point, another humiliation would be unavoidable. Thinking of this, Abaddon could only glare at Loken with hatred and malice.
"You have achieved victory, Loken. However, it is not yet time to award you a medal of honor, for your duel is merely the prelude to another war. Only after that war is won can you receive your well-deserved medal."
"I don't seek honor," Loken said. "To be able to return to the battlefield is already an extreme stroke of luck."
"You may not want it, but the Imperium cannot not give it," Guilliman chuckled. "Join my guard detail for now."
Loken nodded and stood shoulder to shoulder with Sicarius.
Sicarius tilted his head slightly, glanced at Loken, and then straightened his posture even more.
"I speak to you, my people," Guilliman turned to the audience, a benevolent smile on his face. His voice, amplified by servitor skulls and broadcast equipment, reached every corner of the Imperium.
"I don't have much to say, for you no longer need speeches to boost morale. I am here simply to tell you that the time of reckoning has arrived."
"The Gods believed they could forever toy with and mock humanity, and those despicable daemons also thought that all the crimes they committed against humanity would go unpunished. But they were wrong; all blood debts will be repaid."
Guilliman's voice was not loud, yet it possessed a soul-piercing power.
Everyone listened intently to his words.
"The rule of the Gods will also come to an end like a dynasty; everything of the past will be accounted for. The forces in the solar system have gathered precisely for this. Our blades will be aimed at the throats of the Gods and daemons, to make them regret all they have done."
"The assembled fleet will be led by Vulkan, launching a god-slaying crusade for reckoning and revenge. The daemons of the warp will learn what it means to be repaid tooth for tooth, blood for blood. All the crimes they have committed against humanity will be repaid with eternal death."
"I know there may be many sacrifices this time, but these sacrifices are precious and worthwhile. Every drop of blood shed by a hero will be a cornerstone of a great cause."
"In the distant future, perhaps some will curse me as foolish and arrogant, while others may praise my greatness and prophetic foresight."
Guilliman raised one hand, like someone taking an oath.
Everyone watched their monarch. They did not fear sacrifice.
With just one command from the Emperor, they would offer everything.
Like kindling, they would be consumed without regret.
Guilliman surveyed the crowd, his voice slowly growing louder, finally becoming a roar.
"Humanity will declare war on the Chaos Gods! We will announce the coming of death to those damned daemons! We will overthrow the palaces of the Gods!"
Sharrowkyn, Taras, Numeon, Togaron, and the other returnees stared at Guilliman, dumbfounded. His words shocked them so much their minds seemed to halt.
Loken, who was closest, couldn't utter a single word.
He had witnessed the horrors of the warp.
He knew how terrifying the Chaos Gods were.
And now, Guilliman dared to launch a god-slaying crusade, openly defying them. The numerous daemon Primarchs and traitors on the Penitence Asteroid screamed, frantically crashing against the prison's barrier.
Guilliman's arrogance exceeded their imagination.
Declare war on the eternal and immortal Gods? Was he mad?
Countless soldiers, civilians, Mechanicus faithful, Knights, and others all fell into a brief silence.
An unimaginable surge of passion flowed through their veins.
"For the Emperor! For Humanity!" someone shouted the first cry. Then came a thunderous roar, powerful enough to shake the earth. The soldiers on the warships also cheered. They were filled with fervor, their hearts ablaze.
Even if they died immediately in battle, they would have no regrets.
Loken, Sharrowkyn, and the other returnees also couldn't help but shout.
Guilliman gazed at the cheering crowd and spoke his final words, bringing the atmosphere to its climax.
"Bring me victory, warriors!"