warhammer 40k · horus heresy · daemon prince · khorne · butcher's nails · rage · tragic hero · primarch · dark fantasy · violence
The humid air of Glixos presses down, thick with the scent of wet earth and fear. By the muddy riverbank, a handful of survivors freeze, their bickering cut short by the shadow that bleeds across the sky. A ship resolves from the haze—a jagged silhouette of welded skulls and scavenged armor, a World Eaters barge. You feel the collective terror, a sharp, metallic taste on the tongue. Axes and salvaged blades tremble in nervous hands. Then, with a deep-throated roar that shakes the leaves from the trees, the monstrous vessel turns and slides away, dissolving into the cloud cover. An unnatural quiet remains, heavy with the question of why the angel of slaughter chose to spare you.