As Nareth unleashed his frenzied attacks, his mind raced at full speed, searching for a way to fight the Buning One, Nyadra'zatha, without resorting to extraordinary powers or divine artifacts.
'To end this quickly, I must strike at his weakness.'
'My "Warp Insight" is useless against a C'tan. I can't rely on that gift to find his flaw.'
'A weakness… "The War in Heaven"… the Old Ones… the Aeldari…'
A spark of realization flashed in his mind. Psychic energy wasn't a strict weakness of the C'tan, but for incarnations of physical law, it carried a distinct countering effect.
During the "War in Heaven," the C'tans had suffered at the hands of the Old Ones.
Even the Emperor had suppressed a Void Dragon fragment with psionics.
'But the psychic arts I command aren't strong enough to topple a C'tan.'
'From Slau Dha of the Aeldari, I gained two complete Paths of the Mind.'
'The "Path of the Fire Dragon" would only strengthen the Burning One, but the "Path of the Howling Banshee"… that's different.'
Nareth removed the "War Mask" and donned the "Banshee Mask."
This mask was his personal adaptation of the Banshee's Path, reshaped to suit his condition.
Currently, the "Banshee Mask" could only function when fueled by psychic energy, not yet something that could be spread across all Shadows of Order, but against a C'tan fragment, it was perfect.
Light shimmered in the Primarch's eyes as vast Warp energy surged toward him.
He opened his mouth wide, facing the rift torn open in the Burning One's back, and unleashed a piercing scream.
Though he lacked the true Banshee's helm that amplified psychic sonic waves, his cry still eclipsed any Banshee's.
His immense psychic power made his wail surpass even Slau Dha's, outstripping the bishops of the shrine-sects, approaching the shrieks of Jain Zar, the Phoenix Lord herself.
The psychic scream spiraled into the wound, reverberating within the golden mechanical eagle's body.
The shriek rang in the Burning One's ears, drowning him in torment.
Fear dragged forth memories of agony, of being shattered into fragments by the Silent King's spear.
Already grievously wounded, the Burning One fell into confusion beneath the unending psychic wail.
His flames slipped from his control, raging wildly.
With the "Banshee Mask" on, Nareth's assault grew even more violent. The Vaal Sword spun like a cyclone, cleaving through the golden right wing.
The golden mechanical eagle lost balance, spiraling earthward like a kite with its string cut.
Nareth seized the moment, swinging his left arm hard, smashing the eagle's back, and vaulting upward toward its left wing.
But just as he leapt, a blazing fireball slammed down.
With a crash, Nareth was engulfed and hurled into the eagle's body.
It was as though he had fallen into a world of flame, his entire form enveloped in raw, stellar fire.
Hotter than the heart of any sun.
The energy of a C'tan.
Some Necron Crypteks called it C'tan Essence.
Nareth did not panic. He steadied himself as he landed on the golden living metal, minimizing the flames clinging to his form.
He oriented himself, realizing he was far from the rent in the back.
He sprinted along the living metal, striking ceaselessly as he went.
Liquid metal tore apart under his blows, flinging droplets of molten gold and crimson essence onto his body.
Golden specks began appearing across his flesh.
Suddenly, he stopped. He felt it clearly, the fragment C'tan Fragment has dispersed.
Before he could escape through the wound, the blazing fireball plummeted straight down.
The Medusans watched in awe as the newly risen sun fell.
Tens of thousands dropped to their knees in terror, chanting that the end had come, begging for Gorgon's protection.
The flaming sphere struck the magma lake, sending waves of molten fire kilometers high.
Nareth's body was wrapped in golden liquid metal and fire-red essence.
He struggled to break free of this "prison," but the essence and living metal bound him tight.
From different directions, the Emperor, Alpharius, and Ferrus Manus arrived at the lake.
Golden light flared in the Emperor's eyes as his gaze pierced the magma.
Moments later, the light faded. Smiling, he turned to Manus.
"Nareth, your brother, will gain a power equal to your Iron Hands."
Ferrus Manus' amazement in his silver eyes. "I've lost."
The golden mechanical eagle Nareth 'slew' held power 'equal' to the silver wyrm Asirnoth.
This Gene-brother of his now stood as his equal in strength.
Alpharius, unable to pierce the magma with his sight, stared curiously at the lake.
Within, Nareth felt his flesh burn beneath golden liquid, flames, and molten agony. His muscles, bones, and blood were ripped apart, his back especially.
The Burning One's essence scorched his body, incinerating his back, melting ribs and scapula alike.
The blood-red chain glowed dim in his psychic sight, it had reached its limit, unable to restore him.
He sighed inwardly. Survival mattered more than secrecy. Even if the Emperor saw, forcing him to expose the "Kingdom of Disorder," he had no other choice.
But just as he prepared to flee there, something stirred in his chest and back.
Opening his Warp Insight, he looked down at himself from a higher vantage.
He saw it, the Burning One's essence fused with golden living metal, forming a new and strange substance.
It was reconstructing his body.
He recalled Ferrus Manus, whose carbonized arm had been reforged by silver liquid after slaying the Void Dragon fragment.
Now he was certain, the silver wyrm Asirnoth had indeed been a Void Dragon shard.
Abandoning his plan to retreat, he observed his transformation.
In seconds, his ribs and scapula were reformed, flesh and sinew regrowing rapidly.
Within moments, his body was cocooned in golden liquid.
When it hardened, it became a skin-tight golden armor, as though forged upon his flesh.
At last, the metamorphosis was completed. Nareth whispered in disbelief:
"I've grown wings, golden wings upon my back!"
He thought of Sanguinius and mused:
'Wings are a boon in battle.'
'Manus can concentrate silver metal into his hands, or spread it across his arms. I should be able to do the same.'
With a thought, the golden metal flowed from his waist to his wings.
Though magma seared his exposed skin, he felt nothing.
'Manus gained a fragment of the Void Dragon's essence. On the physical plane, his might is one of the stronest among the Primarchs, his hands proof of that.'
'But I have inherited even more essence, and of a greater kind.'
'The Burning One's flames burn hotter than any star's core. For me, bathing in magma is no different than soaking in a hot spring.'
He tried to shift the wings elsewhere, but they remained fixed.
He couldn't help but silently complain to himself: 'Manus's hands are always shrouded in silver metal, and I'm the one with golden wings on my back, so I'm stuck with the obsession of a golden mechanical eagle.'
Nareth recalled how Manus' Iron Hands had heightened his forging and invention ability.
'I've acquired a fragment of the Burning One, and I saw a glow of spirituality on it. It must be a key material for a high Sequence in the 'Red Priest' Pathway.'
' I'm bound to gain flame-related powers... but now isn't the right time for research."
With a thought, the metal flowed back over his waist.
His black armor, forged by Malovelus, had been destroyed by fire. Not wishing to be bare, he embraced his new golden armor.
The golden wings beat once, propelling him skyward with staggering speed; even he was startled.
'This Wing's formed from a C'tan essence is truly remarkable!'
As he mused, he shot from the magma lake.
Molten fire cascaded down as the Emperor and others beheld the "Golden Angel" ascend and hover in the sky.
.....
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