The Nightfall was silent. Around the remains of the planet Nostramo, all Night Lord vessels had gathered, and every single Night Lord had assembled in their ships' great halls to hear the words of their father. It had been six weeks since the Word Bearers had destroyed their homeworld, their betrayal at the hands of the Emperor complete.
Not one warrior spoke. Many of them had their thoughts with their dead world. Some still had family alive down there - ancestors who they had kept an eye on, possible future lines in their ranks to carry on their legacy. The deaths of the recruits and novitiates, who would have made their mark with the Night Lords given time, hurt as well. The Arbites who had been training on the violent streets of Nostramo Qunitus would have become the greatest lawkeepers of the galaxy, had the accursed daemon-lovers not destroyed their world.
It was like a simmering rage that refused to die. No matter how long they lived, the Night Lords would remember what had been done to them. Under ordinary circumstances, their ire would have been reserved for the Raven Guard, but not now, not any more. Now, it was reserved for the Emperor and the Word Bearers. They were a Legion alone, and they alone would bring their wrath to anything the Emperor touched.
The screens that had been dark now lit up around the fleet, as the pale and cold visage of the Dark King appeared on the screen.
"Sons and daughters of Nostramo, listen to me, and listen to me well. We have been betrayed, not only by the accursed weak-willed Word Bearers and their coward of a father, but by the Emperor himself."
The Primarch stood before a lectern. His silver arm, a gift from Ferrus, glinted in the few lights that shone on the Primarch. His face, however, was shadowed, bowed as if struggling to contain his fury at what had happened. His mind stung from the cries he had felt reach out to him as death rained upon his world, his perfect ordered world.
The betrayal he had expected, he had always expected, but this... this was unforgivable in his eyes.
He had known his world would die, but he had not foreseen its murderer.
When he raised his head, all that had been Konrad Curze was gone, whatever was left of him shattered into a thousand pieces and scattered on the winds of his world's destruction. Now and forevermore, he would be the Night Haunter, and he would bring his vengeance to the Emperor's alliance, teaching all the true meaning of fear.
"They have not yet seen the full wrath of the Night Lords, but they will, oh they will, my beloved sons and daughters. We are all that is left of the Nostraman people, and we will be their vengeance from beyond the grave. A million million souls cry out from the dust of our world, and what king would I be if I did not heed their cry?"
His pale face raised, so that his sons could see the full fury of his emotions. Fear radiated out from him in a giant wave. When he had woken from his medically induced coma, he had been told by Sevatarion what had happened. He had held himself in seclusion for a week or two, fighting with himself, his own inner demons finally taking control of his fractured mind. The Night Haunter had finally taken control of him. Konrad Curze truly was dead.
"Sahaal, under my orders you and Second Company are to find a world suitable for our needs, one that, like Nostramo, is night-dominated so that we can rebuild our numbers. Ave Dominus Nox."
The Second Captain saluted his father and bowed his head, swearing to find a world that would be suitable for them to colonise and control.
"First Company shall come with me, I have plans afoot. The rest of you, start reaping the revenge dues. Bring fear to the galaxy, fear and order! No longer, my sons, are we the extension of the Emperor's Justice, for he has failed us. He could not control us, so he took away that which made us. But he will learn, oh yes he will learn that what makes a Night Lord is not the aimless following of the Imperial Eagle, which we have never worn like those imbeciles of Fulgrim's."
He stood straighter and folded his arms across his chest. Every man, woman, and Astarte under his command, across his entire fleet, moved to one knee, the humans keeping their gaze lowered less they lose their minds in the presence of a Primarch.
"Our wings are the bat's, and our judgment is our own. Our talons shall forever be bloodied, and in that blood we will drown our enemies. We come for them!"
The noise from the Night Lords seemed to echo out to the grave of their world. Those bastards would know what it meant to bring fear incarnate into their petty power plays.
Sevatarion waited for his master to step down and bowed his head. "I am sorry, father, I should have tried to stop Lorgar."
"Yes, but that was not your fault, my son. Lorgar is a Primarch. I should have not been so weak as to allow the Raven to incapacitate me. Lorgar will get his due, I promise you that. For now, have the Master take the Nightfall to Ultramar."
Sevatar arched an eyebrow. "Forgive me, lord, are we throwing our lot in with the Ultramarines?!"
"No. I am going to teach Fulgrim a lesson, one I should have taught him years ago... he betrayed me to the others when I thought he was my truest confidant. However, if in the course of that revenge, I must work with or against the Ultramarines, then..." The Night Haunter shrugged. "So be it"
"It shall be done."
The Primarch returned to his chambers, the sound of thousands of outraged voices, human and Astarte, ringing in his ear.