In agonised silence, Draconion watches as his first true friend within the Chapter is withered away to ashes by the pestilential power of the Plaguefather, right before his very eyes. Clenching his jaw so hard his teeth creak, he turns to face Temvero's murderer. There will be no histrionic displays from him, no grandiloquent declarations of vengeance and hatred. Just a methodical, unrelenting assault with every weapon at his disposal until his enemies lie in ashes, as has been the way of Vulkan's sons for ten thousand years.

Joining his mind to that of Ancalagon's - still sitting on his backpack licking his raw and bleeding wounds - he begins to levitate into the air, debris from the deck swirling around him as telekinetic bleed causes minor cyclonic air currents to spring up. With a mental effort, he vigorously seeks a deeper, more all-encompassing connection than ever before with the little drakeling.

Aid me, clutch-brother. Our ultimate foe is at hand, and we are weary and near the end of our strength. Delve deep into the well of your ancestors' strength. Trace the glorious line of your forebears right back to the very beginning, when the universe was young and your people swam the stars unchallenged and unafraid. Lend us all the power you have to spare, or we will all be lost.

And the answer rings back in his head like the first echo of the Big Bang.

I need not trace very far, clutch-brother.

Ancalagon straightens up on Draconion's backpack, his eyes aglow with warplight. For the briefest of moments, he is replaced by a vast silhouette, with wings fit to overshadow an entire planet and eyes that burn like main-sequence stars. The fading echo of a roar that shakes planets and dims stars, laden with ancient hatred of the Enemy Beyond and the unshakeable confidence of primordial predatory prerogative shakes the walls of the chamber.

The currents of air whirling about Draconion ignite into orange-white flames that then speed towards the Nurglite daemon lord, seeking to engulf it in a raging conflagration that grows ever more intense with every moment. Amazingly, the flames flow harmlessly over Feron's armour and that of any other team member it happens to pass, the fire recognising its own as it speeds on its way to immolate the unnatural children of the Warp.

<Main Level>

Edd obeyed the Inquisitor, holding back to keep Fenix safe and opening fire on the Daemon Lord of Slaanesh which didn't even flinch as the bullets impacted his flesh, Howling Griffon also seeing that and running forward to reach the melee. On the other hand, Satoshi's move worked and he stabbed the beast straight into its chest, being rewarded with a roar of mixed pleasure and pain as the red eyes gazed straight into his soul. "LITTLE CREATURE! I NEVER INTENDED ON MOVING IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

First, with a flick of its wrist one of his "free" swords (two which weren't logged inside Ronin) blinked out of existence and returned like a flash of lighting, spearing straight towards Gaius. Lumbering Terminator armor prevented him from evading the projectile which hit him and annihilated his chest, killing him as both of his hearts were destroyed in an instant. Second "free" sword also manifested in the same way as it speared towards Vulpin, but he managed to block it causing an explosion that peered most of the skin from his face, leaving blood and muscle below. He spat blood, but he was still alive as his Infernus pistol fired off and destroyed one of Daemon's arms.

But as soon as two projectiles were launched, which really took only few moments, the Lord's attention once again turned on the Ronin who was still locked in battle. "YEEES! YEEEEEEES! YOUR PAIN PLEASES ME AND YOUR FLESH FEEDS ME!!!!" the thing screamed as it opened its mouth, allowing Satoshi to see rows upon rows of sharp teeth. With a savage yank, it brought its head down and bit Ronin's neck, punching through ceramite with great ease. It ate and ate and ate, going through entire Ronin's upper body until Satoshi stopped moving, after which it spread those two logged swords to each side, breaking his mangled body in two pieces.

Be'lakor simply laughed at Tempestus' proposal as his wings propelled him onwards and into Blood Watchman. "A hundred of your brothers were barely enough to contain me, do you think one will make a difference? I will take much pleasure from devouring your soul, last of the Watchmen," the Daemon Prince spoke as his ancient sword struck in a mighty overhead swing straight at Librarian. Heaven's Pillar came in to block but it shattered in two as the wielder of Sword of Shadows had impossibly vast power at his command. Following that, it basically cut Tempestus in two from his neck to groin, Be'lakor almost immediately kicking the broken Terminator armor with his foot and it fell from the top of the Ziggurat down on the floor level. However Tempestus' spirit somehow still lingered on, trying to form around the armor and manifest somehow, although failing to do that at the moment. Thankfully the First Prince didn't finish the job as something else caught his attention.

It was Draconion. Despite his great skill in battle, Feron simply couldn't deal with the Nurgle Lord as he first blocked every strike of Skull-Splitter with its oversized glaive, then riding through the blast of incendiary grenade like it was nothing, only to even push the Salamander on the defense with couple of precise strikes. But then the shadow of something far larger enveloped the desolate realm and Draconion pumped his powers to reach his final level.

In a supreme display of psychic potential, Draconion He'tar of the Salamanders, the Dragon Rider, Hero of his Chapter and Master of Everlasting Flame unleashed his powers that manifested as huge ball of fire that the Nurgle Daemon couldn't even hope to block. He raised his corrupted glaive to defend himself but the flames just rolled over it, setting the fiend on fire and basically melting it before their very eyes. The last shriek the Daemon Lord made was one of unbelief as his essence was not only banished, but completely and utterly destroyed.

But even before Librarian could realize what he had just done, a similar bolt, just made of complete darkness, speared at him from where Be'lakor was standing. First Prince was the most powerful of his kind, his psychic skills surpassing every single being in this realm and he was intent to show them just that.

Exhausted from his attack and unable to raise the defense in the blink of an eye, Draconion felt as the shadow bolt pierced through his chest and gathered the entire might of Be'lakor's attack in a single orb of ultimate corruption, before it spread out like a "grenade", destroying Draconion from inside-out as it discharged and tore his body in million of pieces while the backlash threw Ancalagon on the floor dozen of meters behind, his little form burned and smoking, leaving him almost completely drained of life force and on the brink of death.

However, Draconion's last conscious thought was not of eternal suffering, but of peace and serenity as his giant friend, who looked after him all those times prevented his soul from being snuffed out. The Void Dragon harnessed it and took it beneath its giant wings, holding it tightly near its ancient heart only to one day, when the time is right, it be reborn as one such as he - the true Dragon of the Universe.



The last surviving Salamander could only watch as the First Prince laughed from its place at the top of the Ziggurat, the giant portal swirling with purple colors behind him. "All of you will remember this day and bare witness to the moment when the last foundation stone of the Crimson Path was placed and the universe drowned in blood!". Feron also saw what happened to those besides him and the destruction inflicted by the Slaaneshi Lord, who even now licked its two remaining swords and was about to charge at Vulpin.

"NOT TODAY!" a blond shouted man arriving from the stairway, his face aristocratic and kind in even measure, just like the image of his father, activated his jump pack and closed the distance with the Slaaneshi Lord, locking his black axe in duel with the daemonic swords. "FERON, VULPIN, EDD, (@DeranVendar @Vulpas @DaKaptin ) GO! ATTACK BE'LAKOR AND TOSS HIM BACK INTO THE PORTAL! GO, I'LL HOLD THIS ONE!" Marmaroth roared as his eyes and entire form blazed with golden lighting, lashing out at Slaaneshi Lord in equal measure as Ill Omen tried to find the opening.

The fate of the Imperium was in their hands, but for each true Son of the Emperor, this was what he was made for!

<Feron>
Emerging from the billowing flames of Draconion's psychic attack he had taken up a fresh advance before even seeing their jackal headed plague daemon fully shrivel up. Armor alight with warp born flame for several seconds he didn't think much of that shadowed spear cast overhead, a patter of dark void black rain caused his brother's flames to flicker and die as the main blast struck a friend of nearly three centuries from their active roster.

Not one step did Feron falter in that, that part of his mind dedicated, brain washed and enured to combat taking over as several MIU orders saw a trio of grenades spat toward the towering Prince. A frag aimed high for the shrapnel to blind, a krak set on course to follow up against the neck and a plasma launched toward main body. He already knew they would miss, for if the Nurglite could swallow an Incendiary those three wouldn't even touch Belakor. That did not matter.

Everything felt numb with wounds simply dancing as light stings upon his form. A thrust of his head sent his ruined helmet clattering to the floor, locks melted away by bile along with portions of his face. Cold pits of ashes matched whatever cold flame still burned in his heart. Closing in upon the daemon Skull-Splitter was raised in almost mechanical fashion,closing in upon a being that would likely hack him down in but a moment of its baleful attention. That did not matter.

Jean, Pavel, Six, Amraphel, Jaws, Lysander, Angelous, Sitri, Roland, Braccio, Dorallius, Hugen, Gaius, Icelos, Kajar, Satoshi, Steinar, Volorox, Coatl, Itxtab, Zeth, Beerle, Kira, Strauss, Sigismund, Tavec, Renate...Temvero and Draconion. The honored dead who had given everything in pursuit of delivering the Emperor's will.

Vulpin, Tempestus, Edd, Rocky, Jannika, Fenix, Carlath, Marmaroth...himself. Those with more yet to give in his service, they all mattered.

Every name sunk into that part of his head not fighting their foe but himself. For the first time in several centuries Feron felt truly tired in spirit as well as body. Not since his earliest days facing the atrocities beyond Nocturne as a young scout had he felt this tired when both his brothers death knells rung in his heart. It was a moment that threatened to undue him, yet each fallen brother or sister reminded him that their duty was not yet done, that their deaths couldn't be in vain and that those final few were the guardians of their memory. They needed to win, to survive. Even if they truly had no hope of fighting this creature they needed to. Whatever came of this, death, life, victory or defeat the Salamander had but one true objective left: that he would carry their fallen with him forever and beyond, whether his form stand as a victor and survivor protecting those that remained with him, or spreading the deeds of what had transpired through the heavens amongst millions of other fallen. They wouldn't be forgotten, they couldn't be, he would see to it. That mattered.

Both hands coiled tightly about Skull-Splitter, designed for one handed hold the Salamander hadn't neglected to leave its handle room for a second hand, even one encased in tactical dreadnought plate. His charge had reached its peak in speed, weight forward legs pumping for all they were and ever would be worth to deliver himself and the sanctified hammer into combat once more. He would hold this line, hold Belakor's attention with all his skill, strength and wisdom to give everyone following behind a chance to enact whatever clever ploys or last minute gambits they might have, there wasn't a Force Commander amongst them anymore, only a son of Vulkan making himself the bed rock upon which they would stand.

Vulpin Kept himself up as he was blasted back his helmet shattering and fire once again coming over his face scarring the left side. Runes wen't off showing death of more of his comrades and fellows before the Slanneshi daemon could get to him the Chaplain had stopped the daemon and was now in a duel with him. He could feel the dead in the air, The Salamander Librarian, Tempatus both there life forces were no longer connected to there body. They were near death or already gone or spirits lingering.

He Spat in pain and defiance Some blood along with the spit came out. As his hands came up his infernus pistol wen't to his belt as he looked around things were bad. He raised a hand to Satoshi's dead body and that of Gaius and Fenix's. He quickly grabbed the remains piece of his helmet. as it was now all but useless power no longer surging through it and half of it blown to bits. He quickly stripped the belts of explosives and the servo skull of its two melta charges.

The first to be emptied was Satoshi's He quickly wen't to a full pouch.... to find a bird. "Go Get out of here little one your master will not be able to follow. I have only one request for you if you can If you cannot fine. But could you Drop this on that things head?" Vulpin asked as he put talon down and a krak grenade beside him. He then Emptied the other Belts and quickly put a melta charge and a frak, krak and a witch bolt clip to the inside of his broken helm attaching it to Via Mag locking them. He then put the rest on his belt For If for this failed.

He then began moving upwards away from the slanneshi lord and behind Feron as he moved. He began summoning up his reserves of psychic energy and attempting to try to use any from Draconian's familiar and possibly trying to Summon any energy that still resonated around Tempatus suit and his own Force blade. If he could give any for a Final Blast and a attempt to have his allies aid him with a attack to be sen't at the Daemon prince.

As this was going and he arrived behind Feron He only touched the salamanders mind with a message. "Feron If I fall in battle, You still may have one last explosive you can use For the daemon to give it a surprise Just look to me." Vulpin sent the message to the Salamander With a smile. As he Threw his Helm with Explosives attached and used his telekinesis to head it Straight For Belakor. As This happened all of his psionic Energy he had stored up was in his Force blade and ready for a discharged To be sen't at Belakor When he got Close to Feron and him. His eyes glowed blue with all the energy that he had was ready to use.

Amber eyes flicker open as a scaly head shakes to clear the stars still exploding inside itself. Ancalagon glances about himself, blearily taking in the battle. His pupils widen faintly as he sees the broken faceplate of an ornate dragon helm, its psy-reactive runes stilled and darkened forever and its inside bespattered with dark Astartes blood. Painfully, limb over battered limb, he crawls over to the piece of armour to lean his scaly head against it, eyes squeezing shut in soul-deep anguish as he feels the last echoes of Draconion's passing. The pain eases somewhat as his uncanny senses pick up the trail of Draconion's soul and knows that he now resides in the safest of all places. The distant echo of his adopted human brother resounds in his mind.

Grieve not for me, clutch-brother. My story is not yet at an end - merely at a chapter's close. Your struggle yet lies ahead. Aid my brothers and friends however you can. Call to my ancient Chapter brothers to aid them - your mind can cut through the Dark Master's influence. Above all, survive, for your destiny lies far ahead. You must cement the alliance between Man and Dragon, for you are Ancalagon the Second, last child of Ancalagon the Great, brother to the Imminent Supreme One, Youngest as your sire was Eldest.

Picking himself up, Ancalagon the Little gives himself a shake, bits of burnt flesh flaking off as, with fresh purpose, his fearsome primordial vitality begins to reassert itself. Glancing about, he locates Purgatory, sensing the hapless fury emanating from the ancient blade as it lies on the floor without a wielder. Pouncing across the gap between them on clawed legs, Ancalagon seizes the venerable weapon in his jaws and, with a straining beat of his abused wings, leaps into the air and flies with desperate strength, soaring low over the deck to drop the weapon on Tempestus before wheeling away, beating an evasive course.

Even as he jinks and swerves in crazy, random patterns, he bends his mind to projecting images of the fatal battle and the path to the Dark Master's sanctum into the mind of Drakvaar.

<Main Level>

Edd was the first one to obey and he charged forward at Be'lakor, however the Daemon Prince casually swept him of the floor with a wave of his hand that created a blast of telekinetic energy. Then, the flying explosive came at the Daemon but the blast didn't move him much nor did anything special to damage him.

But then as Feron swung his relic hammer at him and Be'lakor brought his sword to parry, a huge discharge of energy pushed the fiend backwards. "IMPOSSIBLE!! HOW DID YOU FOUND THAT?!" Daemon Prince roared as even the parry made him swagger on his feet, mighty Skull-Splitter blazing with golden light. The fiend knew that weapon from aeons past by a different name, although the power behind it was still the same.

He completely ignored Vulpin and little drake, but it didn't matter because for the first time since they came here, hey actually saw Be'lakor on the defense...

<Feron>
"By pressing forward without fail, like everyone else who stood alongside me. " Feron hammered away with little hindrance, Skull-Splitter's effects on the daemon were apparent enough and not a micro-second was wasted in his lunge to grasp upon his advantage. His final grenade, a plasma was loaded up and fired likely to a fruitless end but the Salamander continued on with hammer intending to shatter his opponents groin, nothing said vengeance like a blunt blow to the crotch.

He jumped through the warp portal and only glanced over the battlefield. Terror everywhere, torn apart corpses, individuals (Fenix) in despair, but to his delight, there was a still fighting resistance force. Awkward enough... Even those supposed dead still lingered in the air. His eyes fixed on the statue of Be'lakor, or his back since the Champion just emit from the top of the Daemon's own throne.

"FEEEROOON! DRIVE HIM BACK THROUGH THE PORTAL! THIS FIGHT IS NOT OURS TO FIGHT! DRIVE HIM THROUGH HERE!" Roland roared and remained on his position, grabbing the sword with both hands and holding it in front of himself. He looked unchanged since he disappeared, but with determination harder than Adamantium.

"SOULS OF THE LOST! I KNOW I AM NOT THE HERO YOU DESIRE! BUT RIGHT NOW THE ONE YOU NEED! ON COMMAND OF THE RAVENSPIRE'S LORD, I CALL UPON YOU TO AID ME THIS LAST TIME, TO BANISH BE'LAKOR AND FORCE HIM INTO A FIGHT EVEN HE FEARS! I SUMMON THEE TO LEND ME YOUR STRENGTH! WE SHALL PREVAIL AND THROW THIS FORSAKEN FOE BACK INTO HIS REALM, DENY HIS VICTORY!" The Ultramarine yelled left and right, squeezing the grip of his sword tighter. He did not know what to expect, especially after the tales of the Salinas' aftermath where the very souls of the dead came back from beyond the grave to reap upon those who dared to slaughter their innocent lives... However - it was Veritas spirit he felt the strongest and was hoping that he could materialize enough into him, perhaps even shortly merge in order to push the daemon into it's demise. However, now he realized the magnitude of deaths. Draconion, even Shin Zhu's student, and all the others. The regret of not getting to know them better beyond their medical files washed a bit over him, but that made his thirst for vengeance only stronger. If it truly was fate that he was not sent to Salinas to die with his brethren, then this was the moment of truth if he could make a difference or not.

<Feron>
"A name to strike from the roster of the fallen I hope. " Deeply doubting it would end on such a note for Roland Feron carried on at last responding to Vulpin as daemonic blade and sacred hammer clashed again in a brilliant display of dueling auras, one pure white flame against a wall of shifting shadows. "It has been an honor fighting with you Inquisitor, lets see if it won't be the last time if it is to be helped. "

"We will see then." Vulpin said His own attacks doing nothing to the daemon not even pushing him back. Vulpin decided he need to try a differnt way on pushing the daemon back seeing it being pushed back by Feron and skull splitter gave him a idea. He Stood behind Feron with his Force sword in his hands as if he was on Gaurd. The inquisitor knew he didn't have the strength the push the daemon back, But he did have the strength to aid Someone in there strikes.

Vulpin Channeled His psychic powers into that of A spell known to many among the space marines as Might of Heros as he did this he used it on Feron to increase his strength in speed. He kept himself on guard as he did this trying to aid in the fight as he could. His eyes glowed blue as he did this sparks of his power came off as he did. The blood and pain from all the wounds were starting to take there tole on him.