I do not own Warhammer 40k or My Hero Academia, those rights go to their respective owners. I also do not own any artwork used (book cover by Alex Cristi).
Pain.
That was what Sanguinius felt.
All he could feel.
He knelt there, at the feet of his once-brother.
"So, it ends like this." He thought, blood and spittle dripping from cracked lips.
He wobbled left and right, struggling to stay upright as his body's functions began to shut down. The trauma inflicted by the Warmaster was so great that even his Primarch physiology was not capable of saving him.
Still, it tries.
He feels bones snap into place, muscle reknit, and flesh begin to close and scar.
He attempts to rise, one leg bent and twisted, the other unsteady and bruised.
Worldbreaker strikes him across the chest, the clubbing blow shattering ribs and collapsing a lung.
Sanguinius falls to his knees once more as the Warmaster unleashes a pummeling barrage against him. He raises his arms in an attempt to fend off the blows, but it is futile; he knows this. Each strike shakes him to the core; each strike brings him that much closer to death.
The final attack hits him hard, a hammering impact that shatters his jaw and tears the left half of his face away.
The wet piece of meat that was his face slaps against the deck of the Vengeful Spirit. Sanguinius stares at it for a moment, and a part of him can't help but wonder: "What will my sons find?" It was a strange thought perhaps, but an incredibly human one.
Human.
Yes, let him die as the man he was, for he lived as the demigod they all believed him to be.
He pitches forward, every iota of his being screams at him to get up, fight, to die standing.
A massive claw finds its way around Sanguinius' throat, arresting his fall and constricting his airway. With contemptuous ease the creature that had once been Horus Lupercal lifts him off of the ground. His armor's servos and muscle-fibres purring as they bent to his will.
Sanguinius meets Horus' eyes, he stares into the dark abyssal pits encompass his vision. Horus stares back and for a brief moment the pressure upon Sanguinius' throat eases. Horus cocks his head to one side as if expecting his brother to speak, to declare some final heroic word against the evil that stands before him.
Sanguinius says nothing.
He cannot.
He is drowning in his own blood.
Disappointment flickers across the Warmaster's features.
With a final exertion of force the Talon snaps shut around Sanguinius' neck, ending his life.
I've been wanting to write something Warhammer related for quite some time now. Unfortunately I've never had the time or courage to do it. I still don't, but I figure I might as well throw it out anyway. See what I can learn from writing this fic. Thanks for reading and stay tuned, stuff's about to get a whole lot weirder.