'Ahzek,' said the image of the Crimson King. 'You must not return.'

The avatar of Ahriman's gene-sire stood on the Tlaloc's bridge, its brilliance blinding the crew. Only the sons of Magnus could look upon him without pain. At any other time, Ahriman would have marvelled at the power and hability required to project such an image across the Eye of Terror. But right now, all he felt was shock.

'Why, father ?' he asked, unable to keep the dismay from his voice. 'Do you not need my aid ? There are a hundred Sorcerers aboard this ship, almost a thousand battle-automatas, and four Exalted Sorcerers ! Surely such a force would be unvaluable in Sortiarus' defense !'

'The Tlaloc would never breach the blockade, and Mortarion's warp-dabblers have stirred the Great Ocean to the point that teleportation would be far too dangerous. Coming here as you are would be a death sentence, Ahriman.'

'Even so, I ...'

'Besides,' cut the image of Magnus, 'your assistance is not required immediately. The forces of Mortarion are battling ours across the Gift of Thoth and the Planet of the Sorcerers, but they are yet to make any significant headway. Your power is great, but not enough to turn the tides single-handedly. This is a siege, a battle of attrition. Unfortunately, those play right to the strength of our foe. The siege must be broken, and you, my son, are the only one in a position to do so … But you cannot do it with only the resources currently at your disposal.'

Ahriman began to see what his father was alluding at, and he nodded slowly.

'You want me to rise an army. A coalition of warbands from outside the Legion.'

'What I want is irrelevant, Ahzek. What I need, what the entire Legion needs, is for someone to break the siege. Find allies in the Eye, Ahzek. Gather them under your banner, as you have already proven you are capable. Once you are sure that you are ready, come to our aid. We will hold until then, have no fear. And when you arrive, we shall launch our own counter-attack, and together, crush Mortarion's slaves between our forces.'

The face of Magnus' projection twisted in pain for a second, as if he were struggling against a great burden and his façade of control had momentarily slipped.

'Contacting you like this, with all the wards Mortarion has cast around Sortiarus, is very taxing. I cannot do so much longer, not if I am to continue opposing the Lord of Death's efforts to undo all we have created here. Be swift, but be cautious, my sons ! There will be many who will seek to destroy you once they learn of your quest. Mortarion is but the most obvious of the powers arrayed against us, united in the pursuit of our dream's destruction !'

The image faded, leaving Ahriman and his brothers staring where it had been in shocked silence. The face of Ahriman was pale and drawn, the exhaustion of speeding their journey with his powers finally catching up to him as he ceased his efforts. There were other reasons for his exhaustion, reasons that were tied with his motives for advocating such haste, and his blindness to the facts Magnus' projection had just explained to them. Khayon walked to Ahriman, and put a hand on his shoulder :

'You need rest, Ahriman. The rest of us will ensure this ship goes somewhere safe for the moment, and once you are recovered we can all discuss how to accomplish our father's command.'

'I can feel them dying, Iskandar,' whispered Ahriman, not looking at his brother. 'The Rubric, it has bound me to you all, and I can feel each of them dying, his soul trapped in the weaves of the spell we cast upon our Legion. Our brothers are dying, and I am not there.'

'You heard the Primarch,' said Khayon, more firmly this time. Try as he might, he couldn't supress a twinge of unease at seeing his brother in such a state. 'We wouldn't do any good there. Now go, and once you are back to normal you will use this famed intellect of yours and devise a way out of this predicament.'

Ahriman nodded numbly, and left the bridge, Sanakht accompanying him. Khayon turned his thoughts to Ashur-Kai, who had observed the exchange in silence.

Our brother bears a great burden, he sent to his old mentor. Greater than any of us realized.

Yes, but bearing it has made it strong. Did you feel how fast we moved through the Eye ? I have never seen the likes of it before. His power has grown to the point that the Sea of Souls itself bends to his needs. Such power cannot come without a price. The question is : is the price one he will be able to pay without breaking ?

It must be. We need Ahriman if we are to succeed in this mission. You, Sanakht or I could try to lead, I suppose, but he is the one whose name is known across the entire Eye of Terror. We took part in the Rubric, but he is the one whose name is attached to it, the one whose work has sent fear into the gods themselves.

If he is fated to live, then he will live, replied Ashur-Kai with the mental equivalent of a shrug. If he is too weak, he will break and die. But I do not think he will die, Iskandar.

One of your visions ? Khayon's sending couldn't quite hide his skepticism. He had never believed in fate, had less trust in prophecies, and the Rubric had done nothing to change his mind.

Nothing so precise. Only an … intuition. He put too much of himself into the Rubric, Iskandar, whether he was aware of it or not. There are gaps in his soul now, filled with the power of the Great Ocean. And with the Rubric being in all of us now … I do not believe he can die anymore. In fact, if what he said about the souls of our dead brothers on Sortiarus being caught in the Rubric's weave, it is possible that none of us can truly die.

Being a soul without a body trapped inside a spell seems pretty dead to me, Ashur-Kai.

You lack imagination, Khayon. What is a body, but a receptacle of flesh and bone for a higher entity ? When Ahriman returns to us, we will need to speak to him about this. Perhaps the shades of our dead brothers could be picked out of the Rubric, and restored into new bodies. Think about it.

Khayon did exactly that. While the prospect of returning his brothers from the grave was appealing, he was uneasy as to what that would entail, and what the Thousand Sons might become if they were no longer bound by death. Despite Ashur-Kai's claims, he didn't lack imagination – his was just better suited at creating images of the worst possible scenario. But then again, if the alternative was the death of the Legion … By joining Ahriman's cabal, he had already proven how far he was willing to go to avoid that particular future. Now matter how nightmarish the alternatives had the potential to be, he would choose the path with some hope over the one with none at all.