}!{

The sun rose higher and higher into the sky until it settled upon its throne in the center to rule the day. Horus leaned back on his haunches as he sat beneath the ancient tree, waiting patiently for his son to join up with him and Aggregia. The girl who stood beside him brushed at the leaves that settled on her shoulder and sighed in exasperation.

"He's not coming."

"Patience, my dear." Horus replied. "He will come." His eyes scanned the horizon, carefully studying every speck dotting the clouds in the sky, until at last he spotted the winged figure diving down back to earth. "See? There he is."

Sanguinius' manner of greeting his father was warmer than usual, proving that Horus' words the other night had taken root. "Good morning, father. Hello, Gia. I apologize for being late, I had to pry myself away from some...trivial distraction before coming here." He landed with a soft thud upon both feet and folded his wings, "Shall we be on our way?"

Horus smelled the strong scent of women's perfume on his son's person, "A trivial distraction, my son?"

"Why, yes!" Sanguinius said, clearly showing his discomfort of the topic. "But I'm here now, it shouldn't matter."

"I see." Horus let the issue slide, picking up his bag of supplies for the journey and the iron great-mace that served as his weapon of choice for the hunt. "We'd best be on our way, while the day is still young."

The trio first traveled to the treacherous cliffs overlooking the river flowing from an extinct volcano that birthed the land long ago, the site of which provided their first clue. With the land mired in the brutal war for the throne, none paid heed to the monsters that infested the dark roads and hillsides. The evidence of the latest victims still remained upon the ground where they lay, now subject to decay as the elements weathered them down to bleached bone and tattered garments. A caravan of merchants, surprisingly left with their valuables still intact where they lay. Dark smears of dried blood painted the woodwork and wheels, but no sign of the monster.

"Huh." Sanguinius remarked upon seeing the state of the remains. "It would seem that this monster prefers its victims' skulls, and nothing else." Horus noted his son's observation and approached the corpses. Indeed, not a single head remained on any of the bodies.

"Disgusting." Aggregia said with a scowl, "Let's get what we came for and track down this beast. The sooner we finish this, the better."

"Sanguinius." Horus said to the angel, watching closely how he would react to his words. "I'm pleased to have you here with us."

"And why wouldn't you?" Sanguinius replied haughtily, as usual. "I'm the backbone of this party."

"Oh really?" Aggregia said sarcastically, hand twisting the hilt of the sword that hung at her hip. "Backbone of the party, he says. I cannot help but wonder at your apparent lack of equipment, if you at all take such a task seriously."

"What, these?" The younger twin chuckled, showing his polished gauntleted hands. "I am the weapon, and these are merely tools. You will not find me lacking."

"Perhaps not in that." Aggregia said, glancing at her father. "But there are many ways one could be found wanting."

"Your sister is right. Take care that your arrogance does not blind you to this, my son." Horus warned. "While I do not doubt you have the strength and power that befits a son of the Emperor of Mankind, temper it, I pray."

"What is there to temper, when raw strength is all I need?" Sanguinius grinned, "I faced two whole armies in battle, alone, and emerged unscathed. Can you honestly say the same for yourselves?"

"You would seriously compare yourself with father, of all people?" Aggregia said incredulously. "These triumphs you so brag about, they pale in comparison to the things he faced!"

"For now, they do." Sanguinius answered, undaunted by the challenge. "But if I face the same trial, I'd do just as well- if not better."

Horus was silent for a long time, his mind occupied as he imagined the many horrors he fought against in his long life and how his son would fare against them. He worried that his bravado would undermine his ability to be truly prepared for his role in the war, but also, he maintained that life itself would be the better teacher. Harsh and unforgiving, just the kind that serve Sanguinius well. If he would choose the hard path, then so be it. Slowly, he warned Sanguinius. "Pray that the day never comes when you have to, my son. But if it does, I hope that your strength would serve you well."

Sanguinius smiled proudly, "You will see. Whatever the universe will throw my way, I will throw it back with equal force."

There was a faint rustle in the bushes behind the evidence site, and the trio swiveled about to face the intruders.

"Greetings." A woman said as she emerged with her companions in tow. She towered above her fellows at seven feet, easily the size of the average astartes. The woman was dressed in thick plated power-armor, an archaic suit powered by a glowing crystal core. Crude by Horus' standards, but revolutionary given the state of technological development on Y'tettia. She carried a single-bladed axe, which also bore the signs of her armorer's handiwork. The blade functioned similarly to a graviton-weapon, sporting a massive gear-turbine on the other end. Whoever she was, she was not the average adventurer.

And neither were her companions, who possessed similar armaments. There were four in all. The woman, a humanoid creature whose resemblance was that of a cat, a short and stout male dwarf encased in even thicker power-armor, and a man dressed in a priest's robes.

"Hello there." Horus returned the greeting warmly. He smiled as the newcomers gaped at his stature, but paused to note that Sanguinius practically beamed at the attention when their eyes fell upon his wings.

"I see you've chanced upon the leavings of our quarry." The woman observed, referring to the destroyed caravan the trio were inspecting. "By the looks, I judge that we're already too late."

"You've been chasing this same monster as well?" Horus inquired, placing his mace headfirst down and his hands upon its counter-balance. "It gladdens me to know someone at least is paying attention to what goes on in the shadows."

"It's our job, sir." She replied, "When war rages, the corpses start piling, and there come the monsters to feast upon the remains. Oh, but I forget my manners. I am Commander Vestra, of the Watchers Guild." The woman extended her arm in greeting to bridge the gap between the two parties.

"I am Horus Lupercal." The Primarch took her hand in turn and grasped it firmly. He referred to his children as he introduced them in turn, "This is my son, Sanguinius, and my daughter Aggregia."

"Sanguinius?" Vestra smirked, finding the name familiar. "You wouldn't happen to be that same Sanguinius who decimated Regent Maltheus' legions in a single night?"

Seizing the chance to make his name better known, Sanguinius replied. "Not just his legions, I am told."


The warlock propped himself up by his broken spear, feeling weak as his wounds sapped him of all his strength. With a trembling hand, he raised his arm to put up one final front against his enemy.

The Daemonblade of the Laer descended, reducing the warlock into a black mist as it drank of his soul and destroyed his body in one blow. The Daemon Prince Fulgrim stood high above the lessers daemons spilling into the Ulthwe'an vessel, seething with great passion as his eyes took in the battlefield. Having suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the half-breed child on Calmainoc, Fulgrim suffered even greater humiliation upon reforming in the Warp. His beautiful form, that serpentine epitome of perfection and grace that he was reborn into millennia ago, had been replaced with a lesser form. He walked upon two legs like the lesser man, undeserving of the blessings of Slaanesh until his slight had been repaid in turn.

Here he stood, close to his elusive prey after centuries traversing the timeless corridors of the Warp. Around him lay the corpses of hundreds of aeldari, surrounded by the flaming debris torn from the bursting bulkheads.

To the defenders of the ark, it had been only a few years since the attack on Calmainoc. The assault brought upon by the Emperor's Children was still fresh upon their minds, and the battle-weary defenders found little strength in facing another onslaught so soon. But attack, they did. Surging forth and bursting out of the tunnels of the Webway, with renewed strength from the death of a god, the Emperor's Children Legion descended upon the limping collection of vessels fleeing Calmainoc and caught the flotilla completely by surprise.

But even there, there was still hope. A fire burned amidst the darkness, growing brighter as it consumed each and every daemon and heretic astartes that crossed its path.

Fulgrim smiled, baring his teeth as he caught sight of his quarry. "Little Senua."

She had changed over the course of those years, now possessing a power that may prove to be a serious threat to the Prince. Fulgrim, lost to his passion, cared little for whatever tricks the young woman held for him. What mattered to the Daemon Prince was that she was going to die that day, and with her, the whole of Craftworld Ulthwe.

"Dark One." Senua stood her ground amidst what was left of the Seer Council. She beheld the hauntingly beautiful creature boldly striding towards her undaunted, as though she had anticipated this moment. Her black blade uttered a loud swish as she drew it free from its sheath, "Come, and meet your death a second time."

Fulgrim uttered a humorless laugh and closed the distance in three long strides as he barreled forward towards the aeldari defenders. He watched as Senua drew her hand to unleash a psychic attack. Suddenly, the Daemon Prince grunted in surprise as he found himself encased in a powerful barrier, isolated from the daemon horde as portal opened above him, effectively swallowing him whole and spewing him outside the vessel, sending him hurtling confused and enraged out into the abyss.

"What did you do?" Tamila asked.

"I did as you have taught me." Senua replied with an amused smirk. "Played by my strengths." She gambled upon the Daemon Prince's bravado, and turned it against him, knowing full well she could not face him head-on. The young woman turned to the aeldari defenders, who looked on in amazement at the half-breed's cunning strategy. "Well? What are you waiting for? These daemons aren't going to kill themselves."

Liivi, who up until now remained unseen as he picked off daemon and astartes from the shadows, fired his rifle and killed a Steed of Slaanesh with well aimed shot to the face. His shot rang out across the battlefield, acting as a rallying cry as the daemon horde, now left without their master, fell swiftly to the surviving defenders of the ark.

"Hurry now, we must flee!" Tamila, now the last surviving seer with the highest authority in the Craftworld, beckoned for the survivors to make a hasty retreat into the escape vessels sitting in the hangars of the ark. "Now! Before the Daemon Prince returns!"

Liivi observed from afar the tactical withdrawal, and swiveled his heavy gun down to cover his daughter's escape with the rest of the Craftworld. Bombarded heavily from all sides as the swarm of fighters and heavy bombers swirled around them in a tight ring, the ark was nearing its end. But with the combined might of the seers, including Senua, a forced tear into the Webway served as their only chance of surviving the surprise attack.

When offered this solution, Senua asked her teacher if such a thing was possible.

"There is much I have not yet shared with you." Tamila revealed, "But let this serve as a new lesson."

The ship uttered a loud groan as its integrity was compromised. The Seers gathered together and poured forth all that they had, offering salvation to the remaining Ulthwe'an vessels under the flotilla. The Warp opened up, spitting out ship after ship as they made a speedy getaway from the battle. The Seers remained aboard the sundering ark, choosing to let the others escape before they made their own headway. This proved to be quite the gamble, for their actions only left them vulnerable to the Daemon Prince's wrath.

Fulgrim, enraged beyond words, leaped from the breach above the hangar and roared. "You will not escape me this time!" His landing caused the bulkhead beneath him to warp and bend at his weight. "Low cunning served you well once, it will not happen again!" The Daemon Prince grunted in annoyance as a bolt slapped him on the cheek. With but a glare, he spied the crouched form of the Vindicare and breathed a stream of pink flames in his direction.

Liivi vaulted across obstacles, narrowly avoiding the flames as they melted everything in their path.

"Go!" Senua told the Seers, "I've got this!"

Seizing the chance to flee, without even a moment's hesitation, the Seers fled the scene. All, save for Tamila, boarded the last ship and sped for the tear in the Webway. Ironically, the act of self-preservation sealed their fate, and the ship erupted in flames as a Hell Talon zeroed in and blasted it apart with a few bursts of its lascannons.

Tamila looked on in horror, feeling her throat become dry as she had thought moments ago of joining them in their flight. Her hesitance, this time, had saved her.

"Oh." Senua blurted, sharing the same feeling as her teacher.

"Alas, it would seem our fates lie in your hands, my student." Tamila sighed wearily.

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" Senua asked, readying herself for the second confrontation with the Daemon Prince.


The pyre crackled as the flames reduced its logs to ash, releasing a geyser of bright orange sparks into the night sky.

A small company of soldiers, hailing from Regent Maltheus' reserves from the House's keep, made camp close to the main road that led into Maltheus' own camp, some thirty to forty miles away. They were to replenish to numbers lost in the most recent battle, after suffering a devastating defeat at the hands of the winged creature known as Sanguinius.

These were special reserves, armed with early era guns that resembled flintlock firearms and powerswords powered with revolutionary crystal cores mined from the depths of the extinct volcano that birthed the land. The elite company, as the Regent planned, would aid him both in his attempt to wrest the throne away from his rival and accompany him later on his hunt for Sanguinius.

Their choice of a campsite may have been well thought-out, but ultimately served as their demise. Out here, a monster stalked the shadows.

Towering, fierce, terrible. Nightmare made material.

A gurgled scream from the sentries alerted the camp to the monster's presence, then shots rang out as it entered the camp unhindered. Guns were brought to bear, powerswords were swung from all sides. Alas, for all their advancements, nothing could pierce the monster's hide, whose skin under the moonlight reflected ancient but sturdy plating. Eyes that shone red in the dark petrified all that gazed upon them, and claws just as red promised a painful end. Bodies dropped like flies, and the ground grew slick with the blood of the slain.

A deafening roar, beast-like but holding a haunting resemblance to that which was once human, broke the will of the elite soldiers.

Heads were separated from shoulders with ease, and the chilling laughter of the monster seared deep into the souls of those who took heed to their instincts and fled into the night.

Satisfied with another rich bounty of skulls, and a good sport of the chase, the giant gathered its spoils and lashed them together to hang by its hip.

The face revealed itself under the pale cascade from the stars, a helm that resembled a bristling skull affixed with two broken wings. The Lord of the Night craved for more, for his murderous urges demanded satiation. Then, as the moment of departure drew close, he felt the plane of immaterium wax and shift. The 'scent' of an innate psyker called to him, goading the fallen astartes to cross the borders of his hunting ground to hunt down this peculiarity.

"Blood for the Blood God."

}!{