Chapter 29: The Emperor’s Wrath

Chapter 29: *The Emperor's Wrath

POV: Pete

I stood over the unconscious body of my foe, reveling in triumph as my plague crept insidiously through his form, worming its way into every fiber of his being.

"Huhuhuhu… Jahahahah!"

Laughter spilled from my lips, my battered body shaking from an unexpected wave of exhilaration. The entity within me stirred, exuding an almost childlike glee as it voiced its jubilation.

*'Shi shi shi, we have the star! Father Nurgle will be so pleased!'*

It cackled with delight, celebrating our supposed victory. I allowed it its moment, basking in the triumph of corruption.

But before I could fully savor my conquest, agony *exploded* through my body.

My flesh ruptured like a decayed carcass under pressure, a fountain of *festering* green blood bursting forth as an all-consuming pain wracked my form.

"RAAAAAAGGHHH!"

I *screamed* in torment, thrashing wildly like a wounded animal. My mind reeled, unable to comprehend the sheer, *unnatural* suffering that overtook me.

The entity within me faltered, its jubilation twisting into something *far less certain*.

*'No, no! That wretched purple filth's warpflame—it still lingers!'*

Panic seeped into its voice as it hurriedly attempted to suppress the lingering warp-taint.

In the immaterial plane, my soul drifted within the roiling tides of the Warp. Around me, *holy* flames burned, forming a barrier of pure *incandescence* mere meters from my core. My very essence trembled at the palpable danger, and the entity fought desperately to extinguish the consuming fire.

Yet, even as it struggled, salvation descended—

A *pillar* of golden radiance erupted from Leon's unconscious body, surging skyward with divine authority. It expanded, spreading outward like the dawn of an *empyrean* sun, *enveloping* the Middle Hive in a vast, unseen barrier.

And just as swiftly as it had manifested, the holy light *vanished*.

But its presence lingered.

To the untrained eye, nothing seemed amiss. Yet, those attuned to the *Warp*—those steeped in its foul sorcery—would recognize the *subtle* shimmer of *sacred* energy now enshrouding the Middle Hive.

A shield had been raised, unseen but *absolute*.

And beyond it, those wretched creatures lurking in the depths of the *Lower Hive*—the daemon-spawn, the possessed, the wretched heretics tainted beyond salvation—were *annihilated* upon contact.

The barrier was *absolute*.

Far below, in the blackened abyss of the Hive's underbelly, something vast and malignant stirred. A hulking daemon, shrouded in shadow, gazed upon the golden radiance with *utter loathing*. A deep, guttural growl rumbled from its throat before it *vanished* into the darkness.

The horde followed.

For now, the Hive—and those within it—had been spared the fate of utter damnation.

But none knew it. None would *ever* know.

The Emperor had intervened.

---

### **POV: Leon**

I gasped as my eyes *snapped* open, my entire being suffused with *power*.

*Divine* power.

The *rot* that had clung to my flesh—festering, eating away at me—was *purged* in an instant, seared away by a golden *radiance* that now *pulsed* from my form.

I rose to my feet, and from my back, *wings* of shimmering light *unfurled*, lifting me into the air with ethereal grace.

My breath hitched. My wounds? Gone. My strength? Restored *beyond mortal comprehension*.

My eyes flickered toward the writhing daemon that had *dared* to claim my soul.

Now, with the clarity of this newfound power, I could *see* it fully—*see* what lurked within its decayed husk.

Two things stood out.

The first: a *white flame*, encircling a corrupted, writhing *star*—a fragment of something far fouler than even this abomination.

The second: the *true* entity. A grotesque, pulsating *horror*—a vast, cancerous thing, riddled with *every* manner of plague, an unspeakable herald of *decay*.

The Warp-spawn was still reeling, its essence frantically trying to suppress the Emperor's lingering flame.

I did not hesitate.

In a *flash* of motion, I *surged* forward, gripping the daemon's *putrid* throat in my gauntleted fist.

It shrieked, a roar of *defiance*—but it was *meaningless*.

I *dragged* it, *dragged* it across the battlefield at impossible speeds, carving trenches into the cracked and ruined earth as I *crushed* its windpipe in my grasp.

Then, with a *mighty* beat of my wings, I *soared* skyward, piercing through the thick, ash-laden clouds, climbing higher and higher—*far above the Hive*, into the skies beyond.

And then—

I *let go*.

The daemon fell.

It tumbled, its malformed body twisting as it plummeted toward the earth, its rotting flesh catching *fire* as it descended.

Not from the mere friction of speed.

No.

It *burned* with the Emperor's holy flame.

Its shrieks became *howls* of agony. Not because of *physical* pain—it *felt* no such thing.

But because the *warpflame* was now *licking at its very soul*.

The more it struggled, the more of its master's power it had to *expend* to maintain its corporeal form.

And the more Warp energy it used, the *faster* the holy fire spread.

Pete—the vessel, the *host*—screamed in utter *despair*.

The impact was *apocalyptic*.

*BOOOOOOOM!*

A *cataclysmic* explosion rocked the Hive. A *titanic* crater was left in the daemon's wake, the sheer *force* of its destruction sending tremors through the ruined cityscape.

And in the center of the ruin, *I stood*.

Before me lay *Pete*—or what *remained* of him.

Nothing but a *battered*, *smoldering* torso remained. One half of his face had been *scoured* away, leaving behind a gaping, burned ruin.

I gazed down at him, devoid of pity.

Turning, I spotted my chainsword among the rubble. I reached for it, grasping its hilt—and the moment my fingers *touched* the weapon, golden light *engulfed* it.

In mere *seconds*, it was restored.

The sacred flame licked at its whirring teeth, *but it did not burn*.

Instead, the weapon *hummed* in satisfaction.

I chuckled. *Even my blade has been blessed*.

Then, my gaze returned to the wretched husk of my enemy.

I strode forward, towering over him, chainsword revving with a *hungry* growl.

Pete's remaining eye flickered open, staring at me with unbridled *hatred*.

His lips twisted into a *ghastly* smile.

"Do not be so sure you have won this day," he rasped, voice barely more than a gurgling whisper. "My father… will not give up on you. We will *take* you. Eventually."

I did not dignify his words with a response.

With one final swing, I brought my chainsword down—

And silenced him forever.