Lion El'Jonson stood on the surface of Planet Sable, the ground beneath his feet cracking, magma spewing forth like an enraged beast. His lion sword gleamed in his hand, its blade dripping with the defiled blood of Chaos Cultists.
His gaze was like a torch, fixed on the fortress ahead, shrouded in Warp energy. Serafakos's last stronghold.
"Zabriel!" Lion's voice rang out through the comms channel, steady and full of majesty.
"Yes, Father!" Zabriel's voice came through his helmet, with a slight gasp. His Chainsword had just ripped through the Core of a Daemon Engines, its pure white winged emblem shining brightly in the explosion's fire.
"Lead your squad in from the left flank. Kaiser's fleet has sealed all escape routes; Serafakos has nowhere to run." Lion's command was concise and powerful.
"Understood!" Zabriel responded, then waved his arm, signaling his squad to follow. The Fallen Angels quickly assembled, their dark green power armor looking particularly grim in the firelight.
Meanwhile, Lion's gaze swept across the battlefield. His sons, whether Dark Angels or the recently returned Lions Guard, were fighting for the same goal. Their loyalty might have wavered once, but now, their blades were all pointed at the same enemy.
"Azrael," Lion's voice rang out again, this time to the Chief Deathwing Knight on the flagship, "Prepare for orbital bombardment. Serafakos's remnants on the ground must be utterly destroyed."
"Yes, Father." Azrael's voice held a hint of reluctance, but he swiftly carried out the order. The Dark Angels fleet in orbit began adjusting their weapon muzzles, preparing for a precise strike on the ground target.
Lion stepped forward, the lion sword cutting an arc of light in his hand, cleaving a Chaos Cultist attempting a sneak attack in two. His steps were steady and firm, as if the cracking earth beneath him could not shake him in the slightest.
Lion El'Jonson stepped into the darkness, traversing the battlefield passage created for him by the Lions Guard, entering the main fortress where Serafax was hiding.
The heavy power armor emitted a low grinding sound with each echoing step, dust floating in the air like specters of a decaying era.
The surrounding darkness slowly surged like the tides of the abyss, as if some conscious entity was observing him. The Lion El'Jonson's aged but sharp eyes burned in the shadows, and though his steps were steady and firm, a faint unease in his heart could not be ignored.
Serafax was ahead.
This ancient sanctuary, once a garrison for his warriors, had now become a den of Chaos. The gilded murals on the walls were desecrated, the Emperor's holy images defaced, replaced by unspeakable runes and whispers.
The former majesty still echoed in the air. Directly opposite the main gate, the statues still stood, yet their adornments had been transformed by Serafax to be full of his personal style.
Most striking was the colossal silver mirror hanging above the throne. Lion could not ascertain if it was the work of a sorcerer, and Serafax himself was nowhere to be seen at this moment.
The air was permeated with a damp and decaying scent, reminiscent of the slow putrefaction of flesh.
"Father..."
That voice, cold and low, echoed from all directions, seemingly seeping directly into his consciousness.
The Lion El'Jonson's hand rested on the sword of loyalty's hilt, his knuckles tightening slightly. His patience was limited, and these Fallen Angels were always adept at manipulating words, attempting to shake an opponent before blades clashed.
"Serafax."
As the name was uttered, space trembled slightly, as if some forbidden pact had been awakened. The shadows ahead condensed and twisted, finally forming a tall figure.
Serafax was draped in a black robe, his silver armor glinting in the firelight, his eyes beneath the hood like two deep stars. A faint smile played on his lips, as if he were facing a long-lost acquaintance.
"Welcome home, Lion El'Jonson."
Lion did not reply, but slowly drew his sword. A cold light flashed as the blade cut through the air, leaving a faint hum.
Serafax sighed.
"You are still so... stubborn, so fanatical." He gently shook his head. "Do you think you are still that pure warrior? In the years of your slumber, reality has long since changed."
The Lion El'Jonson's gaze was icy; he was not swayed by words, but steadily advanced.
"How reality changes is irrelevant. I am here only to complete unfinished business."
The sorcerer chuckled softly, slowly raising his hand, and a silver mirror appeared beside him, its surface undulating, like an abyss that swallowed light.
"Are you sure everything you know is real?"
Lion's steps faltered slightly.
Images appeared on the surface of the silver mirror: battlefields, pools of blood, fallen warriors... those brothers who had once fought alongside him now gazed silently at him as corpses. Their eyes held not anger, but... disappointment.
"You thought you were saving them." Serafax's voice was like a serpent's whisper, "But the truth is, you are only walking towards destruction."
The Lion El'Jonson's breathing grew heavy. He abruptly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his pale green gaze burned with fury.
"Enough."
The sword of loyalty swung down, light cleaving the air, pointing directly at the sorcerer's heart.
But Serafax was fearless; he merely raised his hand lightly, the silver mirror blocking him. The blade pierced the mirror's surface, yet seemed to sink into an endless abyss.
Instantly, Lion felt a powerful pulling force.
The world spun, his consciousness seemingly thrown into a bottomless vortex. Illusions of past and future intertwined and emerged. He saw the Emperor's figure burning in flames, saw his warriors falling one by one, saw himself standing alone on the brink of destruction.
Excruciating pain instantly swept through his nerves, like an electric current pouring into his marrow, causing his muscles and tendons to spasm uncontrollably. This pain was alien and twisted, and even if his will was strong enough to overcome it in seconds, Serafax did not give him the chance.
The moment the sorcerer landed, the heavy chains wrapped around his shoulders and chest seemed to be infused with life, striking through the air like venomous snakes. Lion tried to dodge, simultaneously swinging the sword of loyalty to cut the chains, but his body was already sluggish, unable to react in time.
The iron chains wrapped around his limbs, firmly binding him in place.
Serafax chuckled softly, "I was worried you would notice I held back just now, but then I thought, you probably don't even understand what holding back means. Right, Father? That is precisely what makes you great, and this time, it will make you even greater."
He waved his hand gently, and the chains pulled Lion slowly upwards. Lion began to struggle, yet no matter how hard he tried, these seemingly ordinary chains were unbreakable.
"Don't waste your effort." Serafax watched him, his tone tinged with self-satisfaction.
"These chains are not merely mundane iron; even the most skilled Tech-Priests would only conclude that they are iron of extraordinary purity, but science cannot explain everything. Their toughness does not stem from their material, but from the process of their creation. How similar is this to the Primarchs? Merely a combination of flesh and genes, yet forged by the Emperor into such extraordinary creations."
Lion was slowly lowered into a shallow pit. On the floor around him, demonic eight-pointed stars stirred restlessly, and braziers in each corner burned with a faint glow, emitting a nauseatingly evil aura.
He sensed someone behind him. As the chains forced him to his knees, he finally saw the figure in black power armor: Bella, Serafax's accomplice.
"Do you know how much iron the average human body contains?" Serafax asked casually, then answered his own question,
"Not much. But you must have seen how in the Imperium's Hive City, all deceased humans are 'recycled'. However, I did not waste their blood." He pointed to the chains. "The iron in a single human body is negligible, but given a sufficient number..."
"If you think you can intimidate me with your vile deeds, then you've clearly forgotten who you're facing." Lion roared coldly, "We once exterminated entire planets, even destroyed whole races and civilizations, for the benefit of humanity."
"And what I am doing now is for the same consideration." Serafax slowly walked under the silver mirror, looking up slightly.
"I once sought a great hero of the Imperium to accomplish this, but I never dared to hope that I would obtain a Primarch, especially my Primarch! Bella!"
Bella stepped forward and grabbed The Lion's helmet. The Lion struggled with all his might to resist, but was ultimately forced to have his helmet removed.
He could not see Bella's face, but he keenly sensed that the other party visibly stiffened for a moment upon seeing his countenance, as if shocked by some change.
"You have been gone too long." Serafax gently shook his head,
"The galaxy is torn apart, the Imperium is a sham. Even if that Kaiser can turn everything around, the Imperium is ultimately a corpse. Only Abaddon's war is unending, but this does not mean hope. Humanity will eventually burn out, and the stars will be reoccupied by those xenos we eradicated ten thousand years ago. I am powerless to stop all this, and even you are powerless to stop it."
He paused, his gaze deep as an abyss, "In this galaxy, only one person can do it."
Lion held his breath, a long-forgotten sense of vigilance rising in his heart: "The Emperor... my Father."
Serafax's smile flashed and vanished: "The Warp has told me many things; some are hard to discern as true or false, but some are beyond doubt. Father, the Emperor still lives upon the Golden Throne. If he were to die, the High Heavens would surely be violently disturbed, and even the dullest mortal would perceive it."
Serafax walked up to Lion... "And the old gods will eventually end everything. You wouldn't think... that old gods watching all this from above are truly a blessing for the Imperium, would you?"
Lion's pupils constricted. Serafax's words did not sound like madness, or did this sorcerer have another agenda?
"His arrival means..." Serafax's entire body began to tremble uncontrollably, as if something unspeakable was gripping his throat, preventing him from speaking.
As he and his body continuously collided, a struggle between consciousness and flesh and the depths of his soul, Serafax, with a hoarse, almost non-verbal sound or any air friction vibration, cried out... "The End Times!!!!!!"
Serafax's eyes were fervent and deranged, "So! The Emperor must die to be reborn. Only by allowing him to truly ascend into the Warp before the old gods fully awaken can he become a true god, discard his broken mortal shell, crush the forces of destruction, utterly end the xenos's evil gods, witness humanity's Great Crusade, and indefinitely delay the awakening of the old gods!"
Arrogant, insane, yet with a certain undeniable logic.
Serafax abruptly raised his staff, and Lion's blood dripped into the eight-pointed star, turning into green smoke that spread along the patterns. The flames surged, and the ritual accelerated.
Lion's throat was dry, his blood pressure rose again, and his consciousness began to drift as the sorcery stripped his soul.
"Why resist?!" Serafax roared, "Do you wish to live a mediocre life? I have given you an opportunity to achieve a great feat, a chance to truly liberate humanity... no! To liberate all sentient beings in the universe!"
The silver mirror grew increasingly bright, pulling at his consciousness. Lion saw the terrifying aura hidden among the stars; in that instant, his thoughts were struck by lightning.
He took a deep breath, returned to himself, his gaze incredibly firm, and stared at Serafax:
"Then, are you prepared for failure?"
"I had hoped you would be more understanding and willingly let go of all this," the sorcerer roared, "But whether you want to or not, I can tear your soul myself and drag it out of you!"
He slammed his staff heavily on the floor, and the flames in the braziers leaped up again. Lion trembled uncontrollably as another wave of intense pain swept through his body.
He leaned down, his eyes wide with fury; his own son dared to be so presumptuous. But Lion knew that if this was a battle of wills, then he would surely win.
But it seemed he wouldn't have to fight alone. The next moment... thunderous gunshots erupted.
Serafax looked up, suddenly startled, then held his staff horizontally across his chest to block. The next second, a thunderous volley of gunshots rang out. The air in front of the sorcerer constantly twisted and emitted a strange shimmer as it blocked countless bolter rounds and plasma.
The Lion heard Bella roar, then the Fallen Angel sheathed his melta and raised his Bolter, running to one of the pit's intersections.
Bella disappeared from The Lion's sight as Serafax unleashed a beam of energy, and then one of Lion's sons was struck by Serafax, letting out a painful scream. But Lion's attention was focused on something else.
The chains wrapped around him had loosened slightly.
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