CHAPTER 7: The Dusk Coup.

"To admit defeat is to blaspheme against the Emperor."—Ullis Temeter, Captain of the 4th Great Battle Company of the Death Guard, during the Dusk Coup. Secret follower of the Lectitio Divinitatus.

The survivors from the Burning of Fenris arrived on Terra on 985.006.M31, bearing their Primarch's broken, barely alive body, wounded by the Red Blade of Sanguinius, who had desperately tried to kill him, driven by an insane urge none could explain. How could Leman Russ survive what the Angel and the Fifteenth Legion Sorcerers had done to him is still a mystery, even to us, ten thousand years later.

The sight of the broken Space Wolves threw the world in disarray. Knowledge of the Heresy and the Burning of Fenris spread like wildfire on the capital world of the Imperium. If even the Space Wolves could be defeated and their world destroyed by the Traitors, what hope was there for Terra?

The wider Solar System was in disarray too. Chaos Cults hidden in the Solar Colonies had rebelled, and were butchering any and all Loyalist they could get their hands on. Mars too had become embroiled into civil war. Kelbor-Hal, leader of the Mechanicum, had launched an attack upon the Loyalist sections of the Mechanicum, led by his former pupil and now sworn enemy, Lukas Chrom. The Loyalist forces reported Kelbor-Hal and his forces had resurrected ancient, forbidden knowledge, and modified robots and Skitarii. Such horrors were achieved through unsanctioned Warp-tech recovered from the ancient Vaults of Moravec or were designed by Khadeth, a former Techmarine of the Thousand Sons, now a Castraferrum Mark IV Dreadnought …whose mind was unfortunately still capable of crafting dangerous psy-arcana and weapons of mass destruction. Worse than that, he had built at least 44 new robots…driven by A.I. The foulest horror of all, Abominable Intelligence, was unleashed upon Mankind once more by fools who did not think that some laws were made for a reason.

The Council of Terra was summoned on 999.006.M31, to discuss how to deal with the situation. Which by now was dire. The Emperor was not attending due to an unexpected …incident. No word on what that incident was given by Malcador.

-Partial Transcript of the Council Meeting-

" We must resist!"

"How? How can we stop nine Traitor Legions, among which are the Sons of Horus and the Ultramarines, the most powerful of them all!"

"We cannot do anything! With the Wolves badly mauled, we are doomed!We must try to negotiate!"

"Order! Order! There will be order in this Council!"

The Lower Council of Terra, made of the representatives of the Terran noble families, had become deeply divided in two factions. There were those who wanted to fight back and resist, led by Malcador the Sigillite and Constantin Valdor, as most of the War Council members.

But many nobles had convinced themselves that Magnus the Red could not be stopped by military means, and the Imperium had to negotiate.

Led by the prominent and charismatic nobleman, Jacus Arkanitye, of House Arkanitye of Merica, the Black Wings (the name of the faction comes from the heraldry of House Arkanitye, and by that name they shall be known forever, their true names subjected to an Edict of Obliteration, dated 026.M31, by order of Mortarion himself) boasted many ancient families of Merica, Karinthua, Polwonia, and many others. More than enough to ensure they could not be silenced easily. Their support had been invaluable during the conquest of the Solar System and even before.

"We must negotiate! Surely there has to be a reason for this….disagreement." Jacus Arkanitye proposed.

Malcador sighed. "Burning entire worlds and nearly killing a Primarch is not a disagreement, Lord Arkanitye. It is rebellion. And must be dealt with."

The Merican looked at him, and shouted "Not at the price of sending our sons to die in a war we did not want. The Great Crusade was a glorious endeavor to establish Mankind's rightful dominion over the galaxy. We supported that, with blood…and money."

The other Black Wings nodded. Malcador noticed that. This was not going well.

"Now, some Primarchs have rebelled. That is undeniable. Surely they want …land, space. What we propose…is a partition."

"A partition?"- seethed Malcador.

"Yes. We propose a ceasefire. We shall then negotiate with Magnus the Red, and settle for a partition. Say, The Western Imperium for us, and for them the Eastern Imperium."

"What you say is madness!"-shouted Valdor, who was straining not to tear apart the nobleman there and then.

"And what you propose" rebutted Arkanitye "…is warmongering. If you react to fire with fire, then our sons and daughters will have to pay with their lives your desire for a civil war we cannot win! And we shall not have it."

The Black Wings cheered their leader. Malcador was having problems keeping himself from flaying the arrogant nobles from their skin, despite his face projecting nothing but a stern expression. The Emperor could put an end to all this in a moment , but in light of what Magnus had done, this option was no longer available in the foreseeable future…

Suddenly a vox officer rushed in. "Sigillite! Captain-General! A large fleet just exited the Warp over Terra!"

"What?"

"Sir….it is Mortarion and his Death Guard."

Malcador sighed. Mortarion and he were not exactly on best terms, due to the son of Barbarus' fierce hatred for psykers. He believed that sorcery was the bane of Mankind, and that meddling in it could bring nothing but pain and destruction. He knew he also had doubts about the Emperor, the most powerful psyker living. And the Sigillite had felt the Lord of Death was trying to suppress the innate psychic powers he himself carried, and was subconsciously fearing, as they would mean he was a witch …just like Magnus and Malcador himself were in his eyes.

This also meant the Fourteenth Primarch was Magnus' sworn arch enemy. He had led the anti-psyker side at the Council of Nikaea, opposing Magnus not through superstitions like Russ had tried and failed to do, but with sound warnings of doom based upon his life on the toxic world of Barbarus and Mankind's distant past, which had ultimately swayed the Emperor' s choice... Where would he side in this war?

The fact that they were still alive, and not already pulverized by the Death Guard's dreaded weapons of mass destruction, was a good sign.

The Captain-General did not even have time to order the Planetary Void Shields raised. Because the Endurance appeared in Terra's skies, darkening the setting sun. A single vox transmission was coming from it, repeated over and over with a thirty-second interval.

"We are here. We are the Death Lord's unbroken blades. We are the Emperor's unstoppable judgment. We are the Death Guard."

The same vox officer who had barged in earlier reported a single assault ship launching from the Endurance. It was the Fourth Horseman, Mortarion's personal assault ship, a relic of the Dark Age of Technology, mounting arcane weapons of mass destruction.

It landed at Lion's Gate Spaceport. From it descended 770 Death Guard, along with the Deathshroud, Mortarion's personal Honour Guard.

Finally, seven steps behind , came Mortarion himself. The Lord of the Death Guard, the Fourteenth Legion. Lord of Death. Murderer of the Jorgall, vanquisher of the Fra'al Hegemony and 77 other titles, was here.

Other Primarchs, such as Guilliman and Horus (before their Fall), were lauded, cherished as examples of the Emperor's vision. Some, such as Russ or the Khan, were seen as backward, even as barbarians. Others were totally unknown, as was the case of the Twentieth Primarch. Some were feared, as was the case of the Lion or Magnus, for different reasons: the former due to his intolerance for what he called "mortal inefficiency", the latter due to his psychic powers and his leading a Legion of powerful psykers.

Mortarion was the only one who was truly dreaded. Master of a Legion whose previous incarnation, the Dusk Raiders, were still spoken of in hushed voices on Terra, by the third-generation descendants of those who had to face them in battle. Their psychological pressure tactics were still renowned.

The Death Lord took the dreaded Albian warriors…and turned them into full-blown weapons of mass destruction. The Exterminatus procedures utilized by the Imperium were designed by Mortarion himself. Those procedures, codified in the Book of Death, or the Codex Mortis in High Gothic, are still used to this day, ten thousand years later by the Legion and the Inquisition. And even then, the Fourteenth uses some weapons not even the Inquisition dares to even imagine to use…

Yet, despite their horrific style of warfare, the Legion developed a complex and sophisticated honor culture, revolving around poisonous toxins, and endurance. To them, what mattered was not the perfect execution of a military campaign, or the speed with which it was conducted. To them, only total and complete victory mattered. Also, there was nothing the Death Guard would not endure in order to claim victory, no matter the odds arrayed against them. Their capability to tolerate the most toxic environments in the galaxy was renowned, and deemed near-godlike by those who fought beside them. They could thrive in Zone Mortalis planets which saw Ultramarines suffocate in a few minutes without their helmets on.

The Council of Terra awaited the Death Lord inside the Council Chambers. As the Death Lord entered the room, a wave of unease fell like a pall upon the Council, no matter the side they had taken in the recent debate. Even Malcador, powerful as he was, could not help but feel …worried.

Finally, the Death Lord spoke, turning towards the Black Wings.

"I have listened to your debate from my ship. At first, I could not believe what I was hearing. I hoped I was going insane and my mind was deceiving me. But as I look upon this Council, I now see my hopes are dashed. Many of you believe that the war…this… Heresy…. we are fighting…is unwinnable. And so you would rather negotiate with the Arch-Traitor, selling him half the galaxy to use to his dark, sorcerous designs."

Malcador noted the Lord of Death's refusal to use Magnus' name. To him, he was never a brother. He was an enemy, from the first moment they locked eyes…

"This is utterly unacceptable. Thus the Death Guard is here… to put an end to your madness. Find solace in the fact that today I feel merciful…You shall die quickly."

He then silently nodded. The Deathshroud opened fire as one upon the Black Wings, followed by the rest of the Death Guard delegation.

Bolters and Flamers, unleashed against normal humans, killed very fast. The slaughter lasted only thirty seconds. Jacus Arkanitye was saved for last, for Mortarion. The nobleman who had proudly and arrogantly stood up to Malcador the Sigillite and Constantin Valdor was now a quaking, crying wreck of a man, whose expensive robes were filled with his liquid metabolic byproducts.

Mortarion looked at him, then projected a look as piercing as a high-powered sniper bullet at the noble, who went utterly still. The Primarch then moved away from him.

Two minutes later, Apothecary Koray Barcu of the Death Guard pronounced Jacus Arkanitye dead. He had died "of a massive haemorrhage of his posterior cerebral artery".

What was more telling, was that his body had no sign of any external injury.

-Two days later, 001.007.M31

A new year was dawning on Terra. A year of war. In the aftermath of the Dusk Coup, the noble families affiliated to the Black Wings launched mass revolts in their territories, using private armies and suborned Army Regiments and secret Daemonhosts, smuggled in before the Heresy, and now free to unleash their destructive power. The Death Guard crushed them all, sometimes without even having to fire a single shot, as the human soldiers were actually Loyalists, and refused to fire upon the Fourteenth Legion, or were too afraid of the Fourteenth Legion, and decided to turn against their noble masters in the hope of receiving mercy. Which was granted, due to the Fourteenth's supreme pragmatism, followed by immediate reassignment to the frontlines under the supervision of the Astartes.

No need to waste loyal, if misdirected, troops.

The rebel noble families were instead executed to the last. Bloodlines that had endured the Age of Strife and the Great Crusade ended in a single day, executed by the Fourteenth Legion and the remnants of the Space Wolves. All other families were ordered to subject themselves to close examination by Malcador the Sigillite. Those who did not pass were never seen again.

Still, the situation was dire.

The Praetorians of the Emperor, the Emperor's Children, had been dispatched on the Western Front, in an attempt to contain the armies of the Colchisian Dominate founded by Lorgar. The war there was in a stalemate: the Word Bearers were well entrenched, their alliance with the Forge Worlds of Milhand and Artemia Majoris ensuring a steady supply of war material. But so was the Third Legion, reinforced by Stygies VIII, which had sided with the Loyalists, as well as the Forge Worlds of Jupiter, Saturn and Uranus in the Sol System itself. The South was largely secured, but the Imperial Fists held Inwit Cluster threatened all lines of resupply from the South to Terra. The bulk of the Iron Hands were sent to hold the Seventh Legion at bay, with 15.000 remaining to defend Medusa, while the Raven Guard waged hit and run attacks upon the Imperial Fists and Dominate forces. From the north, the Dark Angels were drawing ever closer, their fleets taking system after system.

Terra was left dangerously exposed. Only the Death Guard, the remnants of the Space Wolves, and the Adeptus Custodes were left upon Terra, to defend the Emperor.

And the Fourteenth Legion was still divided. Only the First, Fourth and Fifth Great Battle Companies were on Terra, which accounted for 55.000 Space Marines.

The Third and the Sixth were in Segmentum Tempestus, waging a xenocidal war against a newly discovered xeno race, the Kadeshi Empire. Mortarion sent an emergency Astropathic call to them, ordering them to return and reinforce Barbarus and the nearby sectors and defend them from any Traitor push, especially from those dwelling in the Halo Stars, close to the Forge World of Zhao-Arkkad, a known ally of Magnus. The enemy Forge World was a dangerous thorn in the South of the Imperium. Too dangerous to be left untouched. The Kadeshi would have to wait.

The Second was still on its way to Terra. The raging Warp Storms forced them to make only small jumps, to minimize the Warp exposure and keep the Geller Fields intact and the creatures of the Warp out.

As for the Seventh…they had been dispatched into the Far North years before, to destroy the Jorgall civilization. That put them on the wrong side of Segmentum Obscurus, which was now falling, system by system, in the hands of the Lion. Mortarion hoped they would survive, but the odds were against them. Nathaniel Garro was an extremely capable captain and leader of Astartes, but to reach Terra alive…would require a miracle even beyond a Primarch.

Still, he sent them an emergency message, ordering them to return to Terra at once, and to destroy every Traitor who dared to block their path. He hoped it would reach them.

Captain Ullis Temeter, of the 4th Great Battle Company, approached him warily.

"My Lord…"

Mortarion turned towards his Captain, his facial expression betraying no emotion, but the Captain knew, could even feel, the emotions running through his Primarch's mind. Betrayal, pain…but also grim determination to do what had to be done.

"Captain Temeter."

"I am concerned about the viability of our Legion."

"What do you mean?"

"Lord Mortarion, I know of your bond with the people of Barbarus, and I am sure they will keep sending their sons to the recruitment facilities on the planet…But the Imperial Fists are between us and them. If they ever managed to link up with Lorgar…"

"All lines of resupply from Barbarus to Terra would be cut."-finished Mortarion, the strategic picture forming into his mind with absolute clarity.

"Yes, my Lord. Magnus the Red is not the most effective strategist among the Primarch, he is more of a diplomat and a sorcerer, and I do not know whether the rumors about his capability to foresee future events are true. But he surely can see this. And if he can, then Rogal Dorn has already seen it…and will try to achieve such a result as soon as he can."

Mortarion was silent. He had understood where the Captain was leading him. "You want the Death Guard to recruit from Terra once more."

"Strategic needs must override all other considerations, my Lord. And the Albian clans proved to be an excellent source of recruits in the past. We will need them…especially given the Guard's fighting style. The Legion must be at peak efficiency to face down Magnus and his Traitors…and right now we are not."

The Fourteenth Primarch reexamined the words of his Captain a hundred times (which took a Primarch's brain only thirty seconds), and finding no fault in them, ultimately relented.

"Very well, Captain Temeter. You are authorized to restart recruitment. Send the order to the Albian Clans."

On 002.007.M31, the order was given. It was simple, but very effective...

EMERGENCY DIRECTIVE 14-1.

By order of Primarch Mortarion, the Albian clans are requested to tithe their sons once more to the Fourteenth Legion.

Prospective candidates must present at the Ancient Fortress of the Legion in Albia to begin testing.

-Captain Ullis Temeter, 4th Great Battle Company.

The Albian clans sent many more Aspirants than they were expected to, eager to prove their bloodline worthy of the Emperor' s Legions once more. The recruitment problems were thus solved…for the Death Guard at least. The Space Wolves survivors were allowed to take their new Aspirants from the Nordyc Regions and those surviving Fenrisians they had managed to save, which were resettled in ancient Swezia.

But there was still a problem. The Emperor was still not showing himself, despite the dire situation. He had to find him and convince Him to return and lead his armies once more against the Traitors, secret projects or not.

The Death Lord decided to speak with Malcador. Despite his distrust for the man, the Sigillite was closer to the Emperor than anyone else. He had to know where the Master of Mankind was.

It turned out Malcador was waiting for him.

The resulting meeting would have momentous consequences for the Imperium and Mortarion, changing the latter's fate beyond any recognition.

-Transcript of the Meeting between the Sigillite and the Death Lord-

Mortarion entered the Sigillite's private rooms. His face did not betray any emotion, yet Malcador could feel unease coming from him. It was the first time he had perceived that emotion from Mortarion.

"Where is Father?"

The dreadful question. Malcador did not know what to say at first. Should he cover with a lie, or tell the Death Lord the truth, and risk his distrust for sorcery clouding his judgment? In the end, he chose to risk by saying the truth. In these times, where betrayal lurked at every corner, truth was very difficult to find. A hard currency. One which had to be spent very carefully. But that was the time to use it.

"Unfortunately, He is unable to attend us and return to the war. The-"

"Seshala Project." Mortarion stopped him, already knowing what he would say.

Malcador sighed. There was no going back now.

"What do you know about it?"

"Not much…except what you once told me in our first exchange."

Which did not end very well, Malcador remembered. Being nearly strangled by a Primarch was not exactly pleasing. But now, he had no choice but to trust Mortarion, the one Primarch which despised him. Still, needs must.

Here we go.

"The Seshala Project is an attempt to tap into another dimension, separate from the Immaterium. The Eldar call it the Webway. It is a way to render Humanity free from the Immaterium, within which we are forced to travel to reach distant stars. Free from the need to use Navigators. The first step to purging ourselves of the need to rely on psykers entirely. Through the ancient Golden Throne, the Emperor hoped to open a stable path into this dimension…but now that plan is ruined."

"Why?"

"Magnus the Red launched a powerful psychic attack upon us. The gate has been breached. The creatures of the Immaterium threaten to pour through the portal and consume us all. That is why He has to stay in the Throne Room. He must hold the daemonic legions at bay, along with his Custodes and the Sisters of Silence."

"Daemonic legions? What are you…"

Better to tell him now. He will be forced to see the truth on the battlefield anyway.

"There are malevolent creatures Beyond, Mortarion. These creatures, born of malice and ancient atrocities, offer mortals and transhumans what they call supreme power…in return for being worshipped as Gods and their eternal service. The bargain they propose was, is and will always be simple. Damnation and eternal servitude to them in exchange for what they call ultimate power. Those are the voices every psyker must fight, and keep out every moment of their lives.

And I am afraid Magnus has allied himself with these Powers, in exchange for galactic rule. As many others did in past, thousands of years ago."

The Sigillite then went on to explain the true nature of the Warp the Emperor had ordered him to keep secret from all, including his sons. Now, however, the truth had to be revealed.

Mortarion was aghast at first. Then angry because he, a Primarch, one of the sons of the Emperor had been kept in the dark about such a monumental secret...Then as his mind cleared, he suddenly understood, in a single moment of clarity, free of all negative emotions. The mere knowledge of the existence pf such entities in a dimension beyond reality…could be poisonous, bringing people to believe these entities were truly what they claimed to be…and thus fall into their service, as the xenos overlords of Barbarus did millennia before. And the Emperor feared not even transhumans…. not even Primarchs…could resist their siren song. In the end He was right.

Then, involuntarily, he felt something else. Vindication. He felt his anti-sorcery beliefs vindicated at last. He had even told Magnus on Nikaea. Please, Magnus. Stop. Stop now before it is too late and you are destroyed by these forces you do not understand...or worse. –Plea of Mortarion, at the end of his speech at the Council of Nikaea.

He did not listen. Perhaps, in his arrogance, he did not even know what the word STOP meant. And now the entire galaxy would pay the price for a Primarch's ambition and his arrogant belief that he and his Legion could master everything…

He crushed these thoughts with his adamantium will. Personal vindication would have to wait…after Magnus' head was staring down from the Traitor's Gibbet. After a long silence, the Lord of Death resumed speaking.

"So…who runs the Imperium now? Without the Emperor, the Loyalist war effort is threatened. Magnus the Red is more of a diplomat than a general, but he has Dorn, the Lion, Horus and even Guilliman in his thrall. Moreover, now that he has allied with the Powers you speak of, his Legion will be able to unleash sorceries never thought possible…We need an effective command structure and a way to counter this advantage."

"I will run the political scene, as I always did. But I am afraid that, with Horus and Guilliman too on Magnus' side…the Imperium's armies are yours to command, Warmaster Mortarion."

Mortarion was stunned. He had never imagined those two words could be said together. He, Warmaster? Supreme Commander of all Imperium forces? He never expected that. Those two words silenced him for several minutes as he took in the significance of the words. In less than two years, everything he had known and had fought for was shattered in the fire of betrayal…and now THIS.

"I am not worthy of this title. I am a destroyer of worlds, not a leader of armies-"

"The people of Barbarus seem to think otherwise. Besides, right now charisma is not needed. Not as much as unshakeable inner strength is. You shall make a statement to the galaxy: The Imperium will win, no matter what it will have to endure. No matter what, it shall live on. It must. The alternative is too horrifying to contemplate."

Mortarion breathed in Barbarusian air from his armour. His mind was analyzing all possible counter-arguments …but he could find no fault in the Sigillite's line of thought. It made sense, even tactically and strategically. He was the only Primarch on Terra. All others were on the frontlines, reachable only through astropathic communication…which was based on sorcery, and thus liable to be compromised by Magnus or by his Legion, or by the other Traitor Legions' Librarians, which would use their powers to the fullest extent. Malcador was right. There was no one else readily available…and if Malcador was asking him, of all people, to temporarily lead the Imperium…then there really was no alternative.

His mind briefly wandered back to his life on his homeworld.

On Barbarus, the human villages were based on a communitarian way of life. Leadership belonged to the survivors of the destruction of the precedent village, who had more experience in hiding from the xeno-lords and in defeating the minor beasts that they used as cannon fodder. Power was handed down through survival. The first one to rise, prove himself and lead the survivors to safety automatically became leader and was recognized as such by the others, no matter who he was before that. This was done to ensure the xeno-lords could not throw into disarray the survivors by leaving them without a clear leader. Nobility of blood, which held absolute power on Caliban and Macragge, had no sense on Barbarus, where every human was equally prey for the xeno witch-lords.

This was how he came to lead his people: he had stumbled upon a group of humans fleeing from a relatively strong Warp-bred beast. He had slain the beast, and those humans, even without knowing what he was, swore allegiance to him, as was their custom. To them, he was human, and that was enough.

It seemed that he would have to abide by the laws of his world once more.

"Let's go then. We have a war to win….and Traitors to judge."

-End of transcript-

On 007.007.M31, Mortarion, Fourteenth Primarch, Lord of Death, was officially crowned as Warmaster of the Imperium of Man, replacing the traitor Horus Lupercal, who was stripped of all his titles and declared Excommunicate Traitoris, along with his traitorous brothers.

In the same occasion, Magnus the Red was declared Extremis Diabolus Maximus, a new category of Traitor created specifically for him and which would not be given to any other living being in the successive ten thousand years.

At his simple investiture ceremony, he simply said, after remaining silent for a few seconds which somehow seemed to last forever.

"I swear this to you all. No matter what hell we will have to endure, no matter what vile monstrosities the Traitors will throw at us…we will survive. We will endure. We will win. And then we will kill these traitors and hurl their toxic corpses beyond the gates of Hell, never to return!"

-Warmaster Mortarion, 007.007.M31

He raised his War-Scythe, Unyielding Will, to the Terran sky.

It was there that First Captain Calas Typhon of the Death Guard, raised his own scythe and first shouted the battle-cry that would accompany every Imperial attack against the Fifteenth Legion in the Heresy and in the successive ten thousand years.

"Death to the Red Cyclops!"

After a moment of silence, followed by a brief smile, hidden by his rebreather (which was for the better, because the sight would have terrified all mortals present) Mortarion too shouted, joining in with the First Captain. "Death to the Red Cyclops!"

The cry was taken up by all. "Death to the Red Cyclops! Death! Death! DEATH!"


Magnus the Red felt his spy on Terra, Jacus Arkanitye, disappear in the Great Ocean.

Someone had found out his true allegiance and had silenced him forever. Unfortunate. The seals he had forced on the man's soul after he swore allegiance to one of his sons were strong. No one should have been able to discover he was one of his agents on Terra.

He then tried to check his other agents and Daemonhosts he and Jaghatai had hidden on Terra. To his astonishment, he found none of them. They had all been killed. How could it happen?

He entered the New Enumerations, taught to him by an ancient Greater Daemon of Tzeentch, searching for Jacus Arkanitye's soul. When he found it, he consumed it, accessing all his memories, ignoring the shrieks of pain of the disappearing nobleman…

As he looked through the Merican's memories, he was suddenly faced by an ashen-faced giant, a War-Scythe in his hands, looking at him with a glare which betrayed no emotion…to a non-psyker. Magnus could feel the waves of hatred radiating from him, the grim determination, the hidden emotions...

His brother Mortarion.

His nemesis.

The one who wanted psykers destroyed forever, never to return, despite his own psychic power, which he refused to acknowledge as such.

Magnus chuckled. As always, they would find themselves on opposing sides. He could not think of any scenario where he and Mortarion could be anything but mortal enemies….

Magnus smiled in the Great Ocean. A predatory smile. All around him, Neverborn coalesced from the opposing emotions, devouring each other a second after their birth.


Longest chapter ever! Please review!