High above the Fang, the masterfully built spacecraft of the Grey Knights Chapter remote-scryed the location of the Daemon Primarch, calibrated their weapons batteries, and fired. Searing ruby-red beams shot from the heavens, all four converging upon the same point as the gunners of the Grey Knights fleet brought their deadliest weapons to bear. By rights they should have reduced Magnus to a steaming crater. In truth, they did little more than drive him to his knees; a hemisphere of invisible force protected him from physical attack, no matter how powerful. The Daemon Primarch rose, laughing cruelly at the impotence of the Imperial order founded to slay his kind.

The rune-casting psykers of Logan’s Great Company, gathered under Njal Stormcaller, did not despair. They sent bolts of psychic lightning, ghostly tempests, and blizzards of razored ice-knives that flayed to the bone the Tzaangors cavorting around their master’s feet. Yet none of their runic witchery even touched the Crimson King. If anything, Magnus seemed larger and more powerful than before the first salvo had been fired. The Crimson King’s laughter grew louder. Though he now hovered, wings beating slowly, above the Wolf’s Gullet, his voice sounded as if he were mere inches from the ear of all who witnessed him. Those who looked upon him directly did so with needles of pain stabbing their minds, for he glowed almost too bright to bear.

With Njal leading their chants, the most powerful of Fenris’ Rune Priests joined their might once more. Slowly, the vast chasm of the Gullet closed upon Magnus, its rocky edges like the jagged teeth of the World Wolf itself. Lava geysered and boiled as the chasm bit with the force of grinding tectonic plates. For a moment, the Daemon Primarch disappeared from sight. At the last, Magnus threw out his arms and held the rocky jaws wide with only his vast telekinetic power, the jagged teeth of the cliffs snapping to tumble into the fires below.

Grand Master Valdar Aurikon stretched out his hands, psychic lightning leaping towards Magnus in a great crackling helix. Magnus caught the attack on his staff and hurled it back, the bolt transforming the Grey Knight into scattering nuggets of fool’s gold.

Another focussed lance strike shot down from the heavens. This one Magnus did not dissipate upon his protective dome of force, but instead caught with the curve of his blade before hurling it outwards into the rumbling line of battle tanks that was cresting the ridge. The redirected energies hit home with cataclysmic force, smashing the entire column of war engines to smoking ruin. Then Magnus reached upwards, the eye in his palm blinking once as it focussed on the spacecraft high above. Uttering a low chant, the Crimson King extended his telekinetic mastery until it soared into the stratosphere and beyond. Space Wolf, Dark Angel and Grey Knight alike stood aghast as the sky was lit with expanding coronas of fire. Those Space Marines who auto-viewed the blazing phenomena witnessed Battle Barges and Strike Cruisers crashing into one another as if flung by some godly hand, their reactors overloading a moment later to throw all of Asaheim into stark monochromatic light.