The flame burst swallowed Sanguinius and Madail. The conflagration ate at the Angel, turning his matter into energy. Lightning flashed outwards from the tips of his wings. The daemon snarled in anger, its many eyes narrowing. It slashed to the side, twisting the Blade Encarmine in Sanguinius’ grip and throwing him to his left. He made the flight his, catching the momentum with a beat of his wings. He rose into the air of the enginarium. The abominations below raged at him. Clawed hands reached for him from the galleries. Winged monsters circled the dome, their mindless screams piercing through the clamour, but they did not descend to meet him. The gathered army of abominations was not intervening. His struggle with Madail had an audience, and, for the moment, nothing more.

Madail looked up at him. ‘You do not die here,’ it said, confirming fate. Its voice was tremendous, drowning out the thousands of horrors bearing witness. ‘Death is later, forged in futility. Here destiny is remade. Here you will serve!’

Flames coursed through Sanguinius’ blood. The mercy that tempered his spirit had fled. It was not wanted here. He dived towards Madail, and answered the daemon with the Spear of Telesto. Blazing gold struck the daemon full in the chest.

Madail roared. The priest of Chaos Undivided who saw the hidden, who looked into the depths of primarchs and Legions, recoiled, and for a moment, its eyes were shut. It was blind. The blank eyes of its skull erupted with sheets of warp flame. Madail turned its head from side to side, sweeping the enginarium with the fire. It caught the shrieking abominations in the dome during the burn. They tumbled downwards, their bodies given over to sudden change, their forms losing all coherence and then cohesion, until they were a rain of ash upon the deck.

Unbound from the chains of the daemon’s lies, Sanguinius soared on the wings of his freedom. He swerved around the blasts from its eyes. He would fell this priest. He would cleave the Undivided.

Sanguinius turned in a sharp angle away from the daemon. He arrowed his flight to the canyon between the masses of the engines. The mouths gabbled in anger, and their tongues lashed out for him as he passed. The immense, heaving walls called out for their master. With a ferocious beat of his wings, Sanguinius veered right, coming in close to the port engine. He plunged the Blade Encarmine into the wall. He flew even faster, dragging the sword through the fusion of metal and flesh. He slashed open a wound fifty feet long. The wall screamed in pain. Ichor and promethium gouted, and then there was a burst of ignited plasma. A curtain of flame billowed down the length of the canyon, washing over Madail as the daemon strode into the gap.