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The Primarch of Liberty - Chapter 85: Fulgrim
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... d corridors of Callax, carrying with it the ever-present scent of industrial waste and recycled atmosphere. Among the hunched figures trudging between shifts, one stood apart - not just in height and bearing, but in the fire that burned behind his eyes. Fulgrim, though barely half the age of his fellow workers, moved with a grace that seemed impossible in the grinding industrial hell of the fortress-factory. His hands, already showing the calculated precision that would become legendary, danced ...
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