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Chapter 137 - 134. Massacre

=== Maximus ===

The battlefield was an inferno.

A sea of fire, blood, and warp-light stretched from horizon to horizon, and amidst that nightmare of clashing titans, Maximus battled Kha'Zhul.

The Bloodthirster's axe screamed as it clashed against Maximus' sword, sparks of blue lightning dancing across both weapons. Each strike of the daemon's weapon burned the very air, the flames of Khorne's rage searing even the plating of Maximus' armor.

The Astartes' breath came in sharp bursts over the vox. His armor systems wailed warnings, red runes flashing across his visor. He ignored them all. He had fought worse odds, faced greater monsters, but never one like this.

Kha'Zhul was fast, unnaturally fast for his massive size, and his wings blotted out the light as he brought his weapons down again and again in a storm of destruction.

Maximus met him blow for blow.

Sword against hell-forged axe.

The earth around them was a cratered wasteland, molten rivers forming where their blows had landed. The sheer force of their duel had erased much of the ruins of the temple, and had killed friend and foe alike.

Kha'Zhul roared before sweeping his axe low. Maximus leapt backward, servos screaming as he narrowly avoided being cleaved in two. He retaliated with a swing of his sword, the impact cracking the daemon's armor and sending shards of blood-metal flying.

Kha'Zhul retaliated, twisting to his left before leaping into the air and bringing his axe down.

Maximus raised his sword to block, but the strike smashed into his back as the daemon spun with unnatural speed. The Centurion suit's rear plating buckled inward, alarms blaring as critical systems overloaded. The impact sent Maximus stumbling forward, his body slamming through a ruined wall before crashing into the dirt with a metallic crunch.

"Warning," the suit's machine-spirit droned. "Flight systems – offline. Power reserves – critical. Hydraulic integrity – compromised."

"Not… yet," Maximus snarled through gritted teeth, blood running down his chin inside the helmet. He pushed himself up, servos groaning under the strain.

The Bloodthirster was already upon him.

Kha'Zhul swung, his axe whistling through the air, but Maximus ducked under the killing arc, spinning before one of his massive gauntlets caught one of Kha'Zhul's wings.

With all his strength, Maximus pulled until there was a wet pop, and the wing tore free.

Kha'Zhul screamed in rage as one of his wings was torn clean off, black blood spraying like molten rain. The massive limb fell, burning, to the ground.

Maximus pressed the attack.

He surged forward, his sword now sheathed in crackling lightning. He swung the blade in a brutal underhanded arc aimed directly for the daemon's head, a killing blow that could end it all.

But fate intervened.

From the massive portal, new horrors emerged, dozens of Greater Daemons from every corner of the Chaos pantheon poured through. Their roars tore at reality itself. The air warped, the ground bled, and the sky turned inside out as they marched forth.

And one of them, a Keeper of Secrets, appeared behind Maximus. Its twin blades sang with the whispers of a thousand damned souls.

Before Maximus could complete his strike, the daemon lashed out.

Its blade slashed through the air, then through his left leg.

The entire limb of his Centurion suit was sliced clean off, spinning away trailing sparks.

Maximus roared in pain and fury as his body dropped to one knee, his killing blow thrown wide. The sword smashed into the ground instead, creating a shockwave that flattened daemons by the dozen, but Kha'Zhul was already recovering.

The Bloodthirster grinned, sensing weakness. With a primal bellow, it brought its axe down, cleaving into Maximus' side. Sparks exploded from his suit as the daemon's infernal weapon sheared through his right arm at the elbow.

"Power levels collapsing," the machine-spirit intoned.

"Containment breach imminent."

Maximus fell backward, smoke pouring from his armor, the inside of his helmet flickering with static.

Through the haze, he saw the Bloodthirster raising its axe for the final blow. The Keeper of Secrets laughed softly beside it, savoring the Ultramarine's helplessness.

But Maximus was not done.

Not yet.

He sent one final burning thought through the systems interface.

"Warning," the system responded. "Self-destruction has been activated."

The Centurion suit began to glow from within, first blue, then white-hot, its heart reaching critical mass.

"Emperor… guide me," Maximus whispered.

At the last instant, the emergency ejection system triggered. The armor's spine split open, hydraulics firing, and Maximus was launched high into the air, trailing smoke and fire as the ground beneath him turned white with heat.

Then—

The world exploded.

The Centurion suit's reactor went critical, erupting in a miniature sun. The explosion consumed everything within a mile, a blinding wave of golden and blue light that vaporized hundreds of daemons and lesser creatures in an instant.

When the light finally faded, all that remained of the battlefield was a crater glowing like the heart of a forge.

Kha'Zhul stumbled from the smoke, his form trembling.

One arm was gone, torn clean from its socket. His remaining wing hung in tatters, the crimson flesh of his body charred black, molten blood dripping from between plates of scorched brass. His great axe, the weapon that had claimed a thousand souls, shattered and fell to dust beside him.

The Bloodthirster raised his gaze to where Maximus was standing amid the aftermath, half-burned, armor cracked, blood matting his face. For a brief moment, warrior and daemon simply looked at one another, the battlefield around them eerily silent in the wake of the explosion.

A low, rumbling growl escaped Kha'Zhul's throat, part laughter, part defiance.

He took one step forward, and then another, before his legs finally failed him.

He dropped to his knees, molten ichor hissing as it hit the superheated ground. His horns began to crumble, his once-burning eyes dimming like dying suns. Still, his voice came out, rough and distorted, yet almost reverent.

"We will meet again, Ultramarine…" he rasped, smoke curling from his mouth. "For death is but battle's pause… and Khorne awaits me."

Then the great daemon of war collapsed, his body breaking apart into ash.

The ashes scattered in the wind, glowing briefly before fading to nothing.

From the Warp tear in the sky came a new tide of roars, a sound like reality itself crying out in horror. The surviving Greater Daemons, those who had endured the blast, rose to their full monstrous height.

They gathered again, reforming their ranks, hundreds of thousands of lesser daemons pouring in behind them in endless waves.

The ground shook beneath their collective fury.

"Kill them all!" bellowed a Bloodthirster.

Their armies surged forward once more, a tsunami of corruption and madness bearing down on the combined forces of the Republic and the Imperium.

Clone walkers fired plasma cannons into the horde, while Leman Russ tanks belched rounds the size of men. Jet troopers screamed overhead, bolters and blasters roaring in unison.

But the daemons came on without fear, their shrieks of hatred drowning out everything else.

A shadow fell across the battlefield. Not from the clouds, nor from the burning sky.

At first, no one noticed the woman walking casually through the ranks of daemons. Her bare feet touched the scorched earth without sound. Her hair was long and pale, almost silver, drifting like smoke behind her. Her gown shimmered like liquid darkness, constantly shifting between shadow and starlight.

Her eyes, if they could be called that, glowed like twin suns eclipsed by madness.

Abeloth had arrived.

She looked around, taking in the devastation as though admiring the work of an artist. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she whispered softly to herself, her tone light, almost curious.

"Ahh… such beautiful chaos. Such rage. Such hunger."

Her voice echoed inside the minds of all who heard it. Jedi, Space Marines, daemons, every living soul on the battlefield felt her words slide into their thoughts like silk.

Behind her, a massive Great Unclean One lumbered forward, its rotting bulk shaking the earth. It didn't even see her. It simply raised one foot, intending to crush the small woman beneath it as it trudged toward the front lines.

Abeloth didn't even turn around.

A soundless thud reverberated through the warp, and the Great Unclean One froze mid-step. For a moment, it stood still, confusion twisting its bloated features. Then its eyes rolled back, and its entire form began to collapse inward, its flesh deflating, bones crumbling, the essence that gave it form sucked dry.

In seconds, the enormous daemon was nothing more than a hollow husk, a pile of skin and fat that melted into the dirt.

Abeloth tilted her head, almost in amusement. "Clumsy thing," she said absently, continuing to walk forward.

The other Greater Daemons stopped their charge.

They turned their monstrous gazes toward her.

A Keeper of Secrets hissed, its many tongues flickering with malice.

A Bloodthirster growled low, gripping its weapon tight.

The surviving Changer of Ways flared its wings, seeing infinite possible futures, and each one ending in its death.

They knew what she was.

Or at least, they felt it.

Abeloth smiled wider. "So eager," she whispered.

The Keeper of Secrets struck first, its bladed limbs flashing in arcs of seductive precision. Abeloth didn't move, she simply raised her hand.

Lightning exploded from her fingertips. It was chaos given form: violet, white, and black intertwining like serpents of energy. The bolt struck the daemon mid-leap and erased it, body and soul, the creature's scream lingering long after it was gone.

The Bloodthirster bellowed in rage and charged, wings tearing the air apart as it brought its axe down with godly strength. Abeloth stepped aside as if taking a casual stroll, and with her other arm, a tendril of flesh, she impaled the massive daemon through the chest.

It roared, thrashing, claws raking at her, but she only tilted her head in curiosity before twisting her arm. The daemon detonated in a spray of blood and fire.

Two more came at her, one from the front, one from above. She turned, and dozens of tendrils erupted from her back, glowing with that same impossible light. They speared through both daemons, pinning them midair like insects on a board.

Her laughter rose, melodic and terrible.

"Oh, how small you all are…"

With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed another storm of Force Lightning, though twisted, corrupted by the Warp's flavor. The sky lit up in blue, white, and purple brilliance as bolts of raw power arced through the ranks of daemons.

Hundreds died in an instant, their essences flowing into her.

She breathed deeply, savoring it. "Such power… such flavor…"

The remaining Greater Daemons hesitated. Even they could feel it, this was no mortal, no Jedi, no daemon of the Warp. This was something else. Something the gods themselves had feared enough to cage.

Abeloth slowly raised her hands, her tendrils writhing around her like living shadows.

The Force and the Warp both rippled outward in all directions, an explosion of psychic energy so immense it blinded the senses of every being on the field, mortal, divine, and daemon alike.

When the light finally faded, Abeloth stood alone amidst mountains of vaporized flesh and ash, her form haloed in writhing fire.

She looked up at the burning sky and smiled.

"Now," she said softly, her eyes reflecting stars that no longer existed, "let's see what kind of galaxy I've been left to play with."

===

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