[You instinctively want to discard the power axe in your grasp.]
[Yet, your rational mind forces you to tighten your grip on the now-corrupted Chaos weapon—Frostfang.]
[Slowly, you rise from the ground.]
[You vaguely sense that the Astartes body beneath your finely crafted power armor has inexplicably grown stronger.]
[You scan the towering active volcanoes around you before lowering your gaze in silent contemplation.]
[Despite being forcibly infused with Khorne's blessing, you have retained your unwavering loyalty to the Emperor.]
[Your blue wolf-like eyes narrow slightly, revealing the fangs in your mouth as you grin.]
[You lift your arm, resting the Chaos-tainted Frostfang on your shoulder plate, and stride forward.]
[As you press deeper into the volcanic terrain, the frequency and intensity of the eruptions around you steadily increase.]
[For the first time, you witness countless brass skulls tumbling within the searing magma.]
[Like cannonballs, these brass skulls erupt from the molten depths, hurtling toward the crimson sky—some even piercing an invisible barrier before vanishing entirely.]
[You maneuver your damaged power armor, leaping over the rivers of molten lava flowing unchecked.]
[The number of Bloodletters you encounter along the way steadily increases.]
[With each battle, the brutal, surging power of Khorne washes over you, reinforcing every fiber of your being.]
[Yet, the flames of the Warp scorch and compress your flesh, purging Khorne's blessing little by little.]
[Over time, even Frostfang undergoes a drastic transformation.]
[The power axe grows larger, its weight heavier than before.]
[An ancient brass skull emerges at the end of its haft, its hollow black sockets weeping endless streams of crimson blood.]
[Intricate vein-like patterns spread across the once-polished metal of the axe head, pulsating like living blood vessels.]
[Each time your axe cleaves into a Bloodletter, a deafening, nightmarish shriek pierces the air.]
[Eventually, the relentless wails become unbearable, forcing you to abandon the Chaos weapon in favor of your armored fists to dispatch the remaining Khorne daemons.]
[Meanwhile, the foes you face grow ever stronger.]
[The number and ferocity of the Bloodletters increase exponentially.]
[What began as skirmishes against groups of fifty soon escalates to battles against hundreds.]
[Their Hellblades, honed and tempered through countless eons of war, begin to pose a real threat.]
[If endless slaughter can be endured through sheer will and courage…]
[Then the relentless degradation of your master-crafted power armor is a problem that cannot be ignored.]
[With each successive battle, your armor deteriorates further, its systems failing one by one.]
[Eventually, you are left with no choice but to rely solely on your enhanced physique, forcing your broken armor to function through brute strength alone.]
[Before long, massive scarlet smoke pillars rise from the erupting volcanoes ahead, capturing your attention.]
[Without hesitation, you alter your course.]
[To your surprise, you come across vast forges dedicated to Khorne's war machines.]
[You remove the massive Chaos weapon—Khorne's Axe—from your back.]
[You cast a brief glance at Frostfang, now lost to time, before surging forward toward the nearest forge.]
[There, you encounter a colossal, canine-like Flesh Hound covered in scales, its three massive heads snarling in unison.]
[You charge at the beast with ferocious intensity.]
[With a single hand, you swing Khorne's Axe.]
[Endless battles have pushed your physical strength to terrifying new heights under Khorne's blessings.]
[Your feet slam into the ground, fangs bared as you roar for the Emperor.]
[A shrill wail splits the air as the Flesh Hound leaps, attempting to evade, but your strike shears off one of its massive heads with brute force.]
[Without pause, you swing Khorne's Axe once more, cleaving away another head.]
[Blood sprays wildly as your battered shoulder plate slams into the beast's chest.]
[As the daemon howls in agony, you lift Khorne's Axe high and deliver the final blow, ending its existence.]
[You watch as the Flesh Hound's massive body slowly dissolves, returning to the crimson sky.]
[You know that, as a daemon of Khorne, it will inevitably return.]
[You understand that your endless slaughter is ultimately futile.]
[Yet, you believe that the Emperor may have a greater plan in store.]
[For now, your only duty is to survive until then.]
[You heft Khorne's Axe onto your shoulder once more.]
[As the battle ends, Khorne's blessing surges through you again.]
[You slowly raise your palm, pressing it against the weapon on your shoulder.]
[As tendrils of Warp-fire flicker and rise, a surge of crimson energy is expelled from your resilient body, flowing into the Chaos weapon.]
[You have barely begun to control the direction of the Warp-fire within you.]
[To your surprise, the Chaos weapon recoils in fear at the mere touch of the Warp-flames.]
[Your blue wolf-like eyes narrow slightly, fangs bared in amusement.]
[With a swagger, you stride into the bustling forge.]
[Snatching up a fleeing Khorne Blacksmith, you demand to know if they can forge power armor.]
[Receiving a negative response, you grin at the daemon.]
[Then, with a crushing grip, you shatter the Khorne Blacksmith's twisted skull.]
[The headless corpse collapses to the ground.]
[You casually flick the thick, sticky fluid from your hand.]
[Your blue wolf-like eyes scan the remaining Blacksmiths, who now snarl and brandish their weapons.]
[Fangs bared, you lunge at them.]
[Soon, only a single Khorne Blacksmith remains in your grasp.]
[Terrified, the daemon trembles as it points out the locations of forges capable of crafting power armor.]
[With an almost gentle touch, you set it down, patting its shoulder in mock reassurance.]
[Then, grinning wickedly, you swing Khorne's Axe, cleaving the relieved Blacksmith in two.]
[Just as you turn to leave…]
[From the assembly line, your eyes catch sight of unfinished, crude boltguns.]
[You step forward, inspecting them briefly before casually slinging two onto your belt.]
[With Khorne's Axe resting on your shoulder, you stride toward the now-empty forge's exit.]
[At that moment, the volcanic rock floor ahead shimmers, revealing a hazy, grey portal.]
[The towering figure of an unfamiliar Astartes warrior steps forth—the same one you encountered long ago.]
[However, the moment his starlit eyes land on you…]
[The Blade of Vengeance in his hand rises instantly, radiating a blinding surge of psychic energy.]
["Fallen wretch… prepare to die!"]