Satellite outpost.

Far from the Nest, it was once an important trading hub and cargo transit point, with walls, watchtowers, bunkers, warehouses and warehouses, surrounded by open, dry, and barren wasteland plains...... But that has changed now.

Become a living purgatory.

The broken corpses were piled up in every corner, and the red and brown blood plasma was like a thick oil painting, in the passages, on the city walls, in the halls, layer upon layer, repeatedly splashed, and coagulated into a thick layer of blood scabs.

Flies and mosquitoes were flying around the corpse, the pungent smell was permeating, and the exposed organs in the body cavity were also emitting a distinctive stench.

Several Space Marines walked in the middle of it, and they seemed to have become accustomed to the smell and the images.

These Space Marines wore no helmets, their eyes were hollow black dents or bulging crimson spheres, looking ready to erupt in monstrous rage, their faces were scarred, many with horns, fangs, or other more terrifying mutations, blood staining their skin.

On the walls of the satellite outpost stand three Chaos Space Marines, their power armor painted in crimson and brass. The terracotta guard is full of dents, scorch marks, and scratches. They all have the same symbol on their shoulder armor: a planet bites between two sharp jawbones.

The Chaos Space Marine at the lead, with huge, towering wings or crowns on either side of his helmet that resembled "rabbit ears", covered with rivets and spikes, his hands propped up on the battlements of the city wall, his scarlet eyepieces looking into the distance.

In the distance, six Chaos Space Marines lay in the sand, the scorching sun hung high, the dry, cracked yellow ground littered with rings of ruts and tire prints, and the Evil Sun Clan's swift geeks shouted excitedly, jumping off their modified bikes and dazzle trucks.

The corpses of several Chaos Space Marines who fell to the ground were stripped of their fines, not only weapons and armor, but even a tattered servo motor and a piece of cracked terracotta armor, the greenskins were unwilling to let go.

Soon there were only six naked corpses left on the scene, and the greenskins jumped onto various vehicles with their gains, spitting at the Chaos Space Marines on the walls, their fangs baring and laughing unbridled and loud.

"Squeaky ......"

The warrior at the head gritted his teeth, his armor gripping the battlements crushing the dents, and he fought against the rage, against his butcher's nail, a braided cable-wound steel spike that ran through the skull and into the brain, amplifying the subject's anger.

He had to do it.

Because the few Space Marines who had not been tormented by the Orc's Provocation had failed to carry the Butcher's Nail in pain, and after roaring and roaring out of the stronghold, they were soon reduced to six corpses that had fallen to the ground—the Swift Freak circled around them, and when they were exhausted, they knocked the Blood God's warriors to the ground.

Love to read

The entire "Fifteen Fangs" gang did not have a fast vehicle that could catch up with the Swift Monsters, nor motorcycles, gunboats, or fighters, but there were a few Spartans and Mastodons, and these two armored personnel carriers could not catch up with the Evil Sun Clan's Swift Monsters.

Coming to Owen Ukris could feel the incessant stimulation of the nerve implant, the current emitted from the nail churning his brain and cortex, in line with the rate of his heartbeat. A bright red glow shimmered in the corner of the helmet's eyepiece, which slightly tuned the butcher's nail to the violent tick, tick, tick......

That's his skull counting device.

Remind him that today's KPI is not yet complete.

"Ahh

He roared angrily, turned around and knocked the Space Marines behind him to the ground with a punch, and roared loudly:

"That damned wizard, Lorgar's filthy and despicable son, hasn't his ritual been completed yet?"

……

Right in the middle of a satellite city.

In a huge, wide auditorium.

An unknown warrior wields a two-handed chainsaw sword, which is covered in a thick layer of blood that glistens in the light of lumen tubes on the ceiling. He was harvesting a group of loyal servants in yellow robes, dismembering them one by one, the blood and entrails of the victims splattered the walls.

The Great Hall became the Abyssal Chapel, the air inside torn apart by the screams of the Servants, but the Space Marines standing in the middle of the Great Hall ignored them.

On his shoulder armor were flames and the withering of books.

The Space Marines held the rosary in both hands and prayed in a low voice:

"Her eyes were fixed on me, no doubt the eyes that were sleepless, unwavering and unwavering in their gaze at the vast expanse of beings...... I felt her vicious gaze, burning like a supernova in the unseen heavens, the heat of the eight-pointed star washing over my skull...... Every time I tried to stop, she was stinging the skin on the top of my head, and her unforgotten name echoed in my mind...... Eight, eight, eight......"

The "sacrifices" were all dead, and the Unknown Warrior was arranging the eight thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight heads in a particular order and position, and as the blood began to diffuse, the twisted patterns on the floor seemed to wriggle, the lines and corners of which could not be described by any clear geometric structure, the Space Marine's eyes trembled slightly, his brain was excited, he experienced this feeling with a mixture of joy and sorrow, and his mortal servants also screamed at this moment.

"Anger and victory are washed in blood."

An ancient proverb inscribed on an arch overhead.

That was in the early years, when the Bearers were holding the banner of Horus, and Lorgar was still drafting the great faith laws of the Five Sacred Decrees, which required the contemplation of the acts of chaos to be incorporated as part of the ritual of transformation.

The Bearer's mind was very quiet, and he felt that the carvings and drawings on the floor were rippling in his mind, and he remembered what the Gene Prototype had taught him, which was a lesson in self-hatred and condescension.

"Please feel that your soul is only a wisp of mist in the face of the winds of chaos and chaos."

In my memory, the Great Speaker said.

It was a great lesson.

"Peng!"

The door to the auditorium was rudely pushed open.

Coming Owen Ukris, the leader of the Chaos Warband, was now unable to contain his anger and desire to kill, his eyes were red, and he hissed:

"The Bearer!"

"The World Eater."

The Space Marines turned around calmly and said calmly.

The World Eater Warrior asked through gritted teeth:

"Wizard, damn wizard, you said you would give me enough weapons to kill these green-skinned bastards and corpse emperor lackeys, I gave you everything you wanted, and now, what about the weapons?"

"First of all, I'm a priest, not a wizard."

The Whisperer Warrior held up a finger:

"The two are completely different."

Before the World Eater was about to explode completely, the Bearer gently raised a second finger and said:

"Secondly, about the weapon you are talking about......"

"They're already here."

The voice just fell.

A blind, deep red light suddenly bloomed on the floor, and the curtain of the real world was torn open, revealing a flickering and ambiguous picture of horror on the other side.

The Devourer and the Whisperer saw together:

The cracked earth that stretched out of the brass fortress, and the pale bones of countless warriors who had fallen were piled up in layers, it was a gray and pale barren land. Farther away, beneath the scarlet sky, bloody swamps churned, fang-like fountains spewing huge puffs of sulphurous smoke. Rivers of boiling blood spread and tumbled and ebbed across the land...... Reflects the carnage that mortals are committing in the real world.

That was the realm of the Blood God.

"Moo-"

A rough, bloodthirsty howl rang out.

Eight brass bulls, who didn't know whether to count them alive or mechanical, leaped out of the flickering disillusionment, their bodies riveted with brass sheet armor, their tendons and ligaments made of brass, their armor streaked with spikes and sadistic marks, and each rune crackling as if it were burning.

Fear of the steel cow.

A summoning ritual by the Whisperer Priest leads directly to the Dreadmill, a massive spire that erupts smoke in a smoldering volcano on the edge of the Blood God's Realm.

"Now."

The Whisperer whispered:

"Tame them......"

"Bang!"

"Whew......"

"Kacha Kacha!"

A Chaos Space Marine, caught off guard, was instantly lifted by a terrifying steel bull and flew above its head, then fell into its mouth, and was finally swallowed alive with power armor.

…………