[You and Fulgrim's clone move fast through the museum's interior, using the map you memorized from the catalog to stay ahead of the Necron pursuit. The Empathic Obliterator clears anything that gets close. The Blood Scythe handles the rest.]
[The first containment chamber you reach holds two specimens in shared stasis: an Ork Warboss at full size, and a Deathwatch kill team of five Astartes, their black armor suspended mid-motion from whenever Trazyn's field had locked them.]
[Fulgrim's clone drives the Blood Scythe through the stasis projector without slowing down.]
[Hissing sounds...]
[The field collapses. All six prisoners resume motion simultaneously.]
[Three of the Deathwatch do not wait for orientation. They are already moving in the first second, power armor at full stride, melee weapons driving into the Ork Warboss's chest and throat before you can say a single word. The Warboss's head comes off on the third stroke.]
[The remaining two Deathwatch stand over the falling body, visors moving between you and Fulgrim's clone for one measured moment.]
[Then they go to one knee. The other three follow from where they are, kneeling in the Warboss's blood without hesitation.]
["The kill team pays respects to two Primarchs."]
[You scan the five of them quickly. Four of them carry the contained, professional calm of warriors who have spent years operating alone in hostile territory. The fifth is different. The emotional signature is there in the set of his shoulders, the stillness that is working hard to contain something larger underneath it.]
["To see the Father of Genes on the battlefield once more." The Black Shield's voice comes from the controlled register of a man who has been holding a particular weight for a long time. His visor is fixed on Fulgrim's clone. "I have no regrets. Whatever comes next."]
[Fulgrim's clone goes still.]
[Something moves through his expression: recognition, and alongside it, something that has no clean name. He steps forward in his damaged purple and gold armor, and without hesitation, he lowers himself to one knee in front of the Black Shield. His massive terracotta hand comes down on the man's shoulder plate.]
["I have been neither a good Primarch nor a good father." His voice is quiet and carries the full weight of what it is saying. "I owe every genetic son of mine a debt that cannot be repaid. But the situation here is urgent. Will you fight alongside me again?"]
[The Black Shield raises his head. When the battle cry comes out of him, it comes from somewhere that has been waiting years for the right moment to be used.]
["Son of the Emperor: enemy of his father's shame!"]
[The rest of the Deathwatch are already checking their weapons. They are with you. The question was settled in the first second.]
[Over the next few minutes you brief all five on the current situation and the plan. The Deathwatch, as specialists in xenos engagement, know Trazyn's collection better than you do in some respects: they advise you on which specimens retain enough rational function to communicate with, and which should remain in their fields regardless of what you might gain from freeing them.]
[You move on immediately.]
[The next set of stasis fields contains Ork Warbosses and their subordinates, a significant number of them. You and Fulgrim's clone tear the projectors apart and make the terms clear before the Orks finish getting their bearings: there are Necrons to fight in every direction. The Necrons have been imprisoning them. The Necrons' collections of heavy weapons are in the deeper corridors.]
[Ork reasoning on these points is fast.]
[You watch the green tide flow out into the Necron pursuit formation with the particular enthusiasm of a species that genuinely does not distinguish between a battle and an excellent day, and you move the rest of your force immediately while the noise and the chaos buy you the time you need.]
[Boom boom boom...]
[You clear the path with the Empathic Obliterator, the Ten Rings spiraling out ahead of you in a spread formation, each one tearing through living metal in independent arcs. Fulgrim's clone has taken the Deathwatch team deeper into a side corridor after the next set of stasis fields.]
["Courage and glory!"]
[The battle cry fills the corridor from behind you a few minutes later, the collective voice of an Ultramarines force that has just had its stasis fields removed and is finishing its orientation at considerable speed. Fulgrim's operation succeeded.]
[You activate your armor and head toward the sound to regroup.]
[Buzzing sound.]
[The counterattack comes before you reach them.]
[Six-limbed Deathmark frames materialize from phase-shift across the main corridor simultaneously, each one carrying the precise, patient aura of a unit built entirely for killing specific targets. Behind them, Heavy Destroyers move in from the corridor mouths, the mass of their frames built around the weapon systems mounted across their upper sections. The fields of fire overlap without gaps.]
[Green beams come down in a sustained barrage.]
[Ultramarines who had been on their feet for less than two minutes take the first impacts. Power armor pierced, two warriors down before the rest can scatter into cover. The Deathmarks are already triangulating on command elements.]
["Fulgrim! Take the force and move! Find the heavy weapons! I hold here!"]
[You are already turning.]
[The Empathic Obliterator comes up and you drive into the Heavy Destroyer formation directly, the scepter's edge connecting with the first frame you reach. The shared damage propagates through the group of them, and the barrage from the rear Destroyers stutters. You push through the gap.]
[Boom!]
[A Destroyer separates from the main body and cuts across your angle. The Hyperphase Sword in its limb comes around in a fast arc. You use Shadow Step, the world sliding sideways, and come out of it two meters clear of the blade's path. The sword takes a chunk from the corridor wall where you were standing.]
[You are already swinging the Empathic Obliterator into the next contact. More frames converge. The Deathmarks are cycling back from phase-shift at regular intervals, appearing in your immediate proximity, disappearing before you can pin them, reappearing at a different angle. Your vibranium armor turns what gets through. But there are more of them than there are positions you can defend.]
[Boom!]
[You plant your feet and sweep both arms horizontally, the raw physical force of a Primarch-scale frame at full output, and send the nearest Destroyer and Deathmark frame flying into the corridor wall hard enough to leave impressions in the metal.]
[More come to fill the space they occupied.]
[Your hand goes to the back of your power pack.]
[You pull the molten bomb free, activate it, drop it at your feet, and use Shadow Step in the same motion.]
[Boom!]
[The heat reaches you even through the displacement. A column of scorching white light fills the corridor behind you, expanding outward in a radius that does not discriminate between Destroyer frames, Deathmark projectors, and corridor floor. When the light contracts, what remains is a wide expanse of cooling metal in every form it used to occupy, now unified into a single molten landscape.]
[You land hard in your magnetic boots and turn to look at it.]
[Then you tighten your grip on the Empathic Obliterator and push your armor forward again, following the direction the rest of the force had retreated.]