The void battlefield had already beco a boiling cauldron of war.
The neatly arrayed Imperial Fleet, the Red Corsairs' defensive fleet, the mad broadsides from the Blackstone Fortress, and the blood-drenched, rampaging, blasphemous ships of Khorne's daemon army—
The three forces tangled and tore at each other, setting the cold cosmos ablaze.
Macro-cannon shells, the size of shipping containers, scread across space.
Slender missiles trailed tails of destruction, weaving a tapestry of death.
Lances burned through armor, ripping open hulls.
Explosions flashed one after another—like a blood-soaked carnival born for annihilation.
Inside the Blackstone Fortress, the intensity of combat was no less than outside.
Dimly lit ergency corridors beca at grinders of flesh and steel.
Bolter fire roared, chainswords howled, battle-axes screeched against ceramite, and dying screams mixed with frenzied war cries—all blending into a death symphony.
Bodies piled up, blood pooled into streams across the tal deck, only to be seared by fire and fill the air with an unbearable stench.
Primarch Guilliman led from the front, at the very tip of the assault.
The Hand of Dominion spat death in a relentless barrage, crushing the enemies in his path.
The Emperor's Sword, blazing with golden fire, danced up and down—each strike precise and deadly.
Where he passed, whether Red Corsair in power armor or blood-crazed Khorne berserker, all fell like wheat, limbs and blood flying everywhere.
Behind the Primarch followed Sicarius, Amalrich, and other Imperial heroes,
Forming a sharp spearhead, they stabbed straight toward the heart of the Blackstone Fortress, determined to carve a path through.
…
Elsewhere, in another wide main corridor inside the Fortress,
Datch, clad in pumpkin-thed power armor and wielding the Ruyi Jingu Bang, was dueling the infamous heretic Vayne Garl.
Fortunately, during this ti, Datch had used his accumulated experience points to learn many combat skills from Imperial heroes like Garrien and Sicarius,
This training allowed him to hold his own against the heretic—unlike before, when he would have been instantly slain by Chaos veterans.
Points earned from quests could be exchanged for items in the shop, while experience points improved player skills.
Previously, Datch had used experience points to quickly master chainsword techniques with Garrien and flight controls with pilots from Macragge.
This talent had even made Garrien and Sicarius consider Datch a genius.
After all, in just a few days, he could transform from a clumsy newbie into a master who would take others decades of hard training to beco.
As Datch engaged the heretic, the Fateweaver, Kairos, hovered in midair, surrounded by ever-shifting, shimring Tzeentch runes and psychic light.
Kairos opened several warp rifts, summoning screeching Horrors and Flars to besiege the Red Corsairs,
And unleashed all manner of sorceries upon them, causing their casualties to mount.
Seeing this, Vayne Garl was nearly bursting with rage.
A Lord of Change, a daemon of Tzeentch, actually acting as a hitman for the Corpse Emperor's lackeys?
Since when did this galaxy beco so surreal?
"Kairos, you treacherous scum! How dare you command daemons against the will of Chaos!"
Vayne Garl roared, swinging his battle-axe with mighty force,
But Datch's nimble footwork and Kairos's perfectly-tid sorceries continually deflected his attacks.
The heretic found it incredibly troubleso, feeling as if he was being specifically targeted.
"Traitor, today is your death day."
Datch would occasionally taunt, making Vayne Garl's eye twitch in fury.
After another weapon clash, Vayne Garl's axe was diverted by Datch's sword and smashed into a nearby tal wall, becoming stuck.
Kairos seized this rare opportunity—pointing his staff, several chains of radiant athyst shot from the void, writhing like living snakes to bind Vayne Garl's limbs and torso.
The magical energy not only restrained the heretic but also locked the power armor's joints, rendering him immobile.
"Aaargh!" Vayne Garl roared and struggled, but could only drop to one knee.
"For the Emperor!" Datch shouted, chainsword in hand, darting forward in a few swift steps.
Even the Tzeentchian daemons summoned by Kairos paused in their lee with the Red Corsairs.
It was absurd—Chaos daemons helping a minion of the Corpse Emperor defeat a Chaos Lord.
This was enough to break the mind of even the most deranged Horror!
"Kairos, you shaless traitor! You've betrayed the Changer of Ways, betrayed Chaos itself!"
Vayne Garl, head held high in fury, glared at Datch and the Fateweaver.
The Fateweaver ignored him—though forced to serve, Kairos's heart acknowledged only the Changer of Ways as its true sun. That would never change.
"These NPCs' dialogue is so imrsive," Datch muttered, but his chainsword didn't hesitate, slicing down with a whoosh.
A flash of steel—and the head of Vayne Garl, full of unwillingness and rage, rolled to the floor.
The headless body convulsed and then collapsed.
The remaining Red Corsairs, seeing their leader killed, broke instantly. Panic-stricken, they retreated to deeper or side corridors.
…
anwhile, the Changeling completed the task Datch had set.
Using its endless disguises, it assassinated over a dozen unguarded Red Corsair officers and Dark chanicus priests,
Easily infiltrating the Blackstone Fortress's gun control center, power distribution room, shield generator array, and other critical zones,
Placing explosives or planting virus codes.
A series of explosions and viral attacks soon crippled the Fortress's defensive network.
Datch recalled the Changeling, and together with the thoroughly disgruntled but loyal Kairos, hurried through the cleared passages toward Guilliman's location.
Along the way, they encountered so humans enslaved by the Red Corsairs.
Datch wanted to rescue them for points and experience,
But at the sight of his armor and the Tzeentch daemons behind him, they scread and fled.
"Wait, I'm one of you!" Datch called after the fleeing slaves, exasperated.
After so thought, he switched from his pumpkin power armor to the Terminator armor, and turned to Kairos:
"Hurry, send your daemons back to the warp—they're scaring people. And make yourself look friendlier."
Kairos's two heads turned to Datch, eyes full of aggrieved fury.
He, the mighty Fateweaver, Lord of Change, not only forced into loyalty, but now even his minions and appearance were being criticized?
Kairos dearly wanted to throw a few spiteful curses at Datch, to tornt him so he'd beg for life and death alike.
But for now, under soone else's roof, he had to bow his head.
Swallowing his anger, Kairos unhappily waved his staff,
Banished the Tzeentch daemons back to the warp, and transford himself into a fluffy, two-headed bird.
…
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