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Ванд Молоторукий пал в бою с Убийцей Королей, помянем героя минутой молчания.

Lord-Celestant Vandus discorporated in terrible slow motion, his mutilated remains blazing with blue energies. Every vein, artery and organ was visible to the hosts below, glowing bright and unravelling as Azyr claimed its due.

There was a collective moan of dismay and disbelief from the Hammers of Sigmar below; none could believe their blessed leader had been so violently slain. Above the cries of horror, Archaon laughed loud, his deep bass voice given the timbre of a dread storm by the raging magical energies of Kronus Peak. The Everchosen reached into the lightning that poured slowly from Vandus’ insubstantial corpse, letting the spirit-energies play over his fingers. Pink sparks leapt wherever Archaon’s touch threaded the stuff of the Lord-Celestant’s soul.

A long moment passed, and those energies that had once been Vandus vanished into the aether. Another moment, and the Slayer of Kings took Calanax’s head from his neck in a burst of blinding white energy. Dorghar screamed in triumph, winging high to revel in his master’s supremacy.