A/N

I'm currently enrolled at university, and due to the measures placed to avoid the spread of the coronavirus, I'm forced to stay at a dormitory. While being reduced to online classes for the majority of the semester presents opportunity for regular updates, sadly the school has some pretty shitty internet, so updates for all fanfics would take longer than usual.

Sorry for the inconvenience, but I'll try my best to push on in spite of this new development. I appreciate your understanding :)

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Aggregia felt the years pass quickly as she trained without pause on the memory world of Prospero.

The young girl blossomed into a full grown woman, possessing the captivating beauty of a daughter of a Primarch and the impressive stature of a direct descendant of the God-Emperor. She manifested the many traits a Primarch possessed; a keen mind, peerless charm, and all the psychic gifts that bore fruit from all her labors on Prospero.

Her psychic powers, once nascent, grew in strength and potency as she soaked in all her uncle taught her. But as her power grew, so did her thirst for knowledge, particularly that of the forbidden kind.

Although the Great Library of Tizca offered much, her curiousity led her to crave the hidden books deemed forbidden by her teacher. It started off as a thought, easily dismissed but returned time and time again. Relentlessly, the temptation goaded her to defy her uncle's instruction and her better judgement, which in turn led to her discovery of a counterspell that gained her access to many of these heretical tomes.

The Warp was immaterial made material, after all, and it listened to Aggregia's call as she forced the books to reform from the ashes they have been reduced to and reveal to her their secrets. It was an addiction she could not conquer, an addiction she did not want to conquer. And yet, there was also an awful pang of shame that tugged at her mind each time she opened one of these forbidden books, a buyer's remorse that told her she must stop and come clean to her teacher.

Alas, there was always some reason or other that kept her from doing so.

Her ease at keeping this hidden from her uncle was not borne of skill, but by the will of the ever-watchful Tzeentch. He had allowed Magnus to continue in his defiance since his own personal crusade for redemption offered a more beneficial opportunity for the Changer of Ways, and he found the very nature of the daemon prince's rebellion to his liking.

With but one twist on the puppet strings that remained upon him, Tzeentch gleefully masked the woman's wrongdoings and watched with great interest as she plundered the depths of Magnus' forbidden knowledge unabated. Like a spider, arms ready to snatch at the fly drifting closer and closer to its web, he waited patiently as Aggregia's quest for knowledge pushed her ever nearer to him as it did once with Magnus.

Though he did not entirely sense it outright that something was amiss, the Red King of Prospero still had an inkling that his niece was up to no good. But for all his insight, all he could see concerning Aggregia's mischief was of a careless student, with all the knowledge but little control over herself. Any demands for an explanation were met with seeming innocence, enough to throw off most of his worst speculations. And the very fact that all his attempts at reading her mind were blocked by some psychic shroud worried him to no end, and such worries nagged at him throughout their training on Prospero.

Magnus did his best to steer her away from trouble, but try as he might to help put her upon proper path, the inexperience of his niece at times in dealing with the Warp proved costly. Though in comparison with the many other Alpha Plus Grade psykers who burned like bright lighthouses in the abyss, Aggregia burned like a flickering candle, her warmth and light drew the attention of many of the malevolent denizens of the Warp.

As it was on her homeworld Y'ttetia, Aggregia found herself battling daemons daily atop the white towers of Tizca. Magnus counted it as a small comfort that these battles helped Aggregia learn her lessons quickly, but remained at unease with their current circumstances.

One day, as they resumed her more advanced lessons in warpcraft after defeating a horde of khornate daemons, teacher and student found themselves deep in conversation over the most loathed topic Magnus hoped to avoid having to speak to anyone about.

Aggregia, having grown acclimated to her new home, wondered out loud about the events that resulted in its destruction. "Prospero is truly a magnificent world."

"Was." Magnus corrected, "It was magnificent. Now, it's just another dead world. All that remains of it are ashes and ruin, just like my legion."

"You know, we never talked about how you ended up serving Chaos, not at length anyway."

"Because the subject never ceases to open old wounds, my dear." Magnus replied, "And I see no relevance in discussing it anyway."

"Well, I do." Aggregia pressed, in spite of her uncle's reluctance. "All you have taught me in the time I've spent here, all were drawn from your most favored experiences. Father never shied from speaking about his past, no matter how dark it was."

"I am not Horus." Magnus said, his expression darkening.

Gone was the gentle tone in his voice that Aggregia had grown fond of, now replaced with a sharp edge that threatened to cut her should she press the subject any further. Unfortunately for Magnus, Aggregia possessed thick skin and a stubborn will that irked him to no end. What he found as a remarkable trait for a student, now vexed him as the young woman continued in her questionings. She did not fear his wrath as others did, remaining confident with the assurance that he would not harm her.

Though there was truth in that, Magnus preferred that in moments like these she would know her limits and respect his wishes. She was so much like him in ways he hated about himself. Like him, Aggregia had an insatiable curiousity and a need to know all things, not in the least caring for any of the boundaries set before her.

"Pain is a harsh teacher, yet the best lessons are served by her hand." Aggregia quoted something Magnus told her in the past when she nearly lost her life facing a khornate daemon that wandered into the memory world.

Magnus gave her an annoyed look and sighed heavily. "Touché."

"Huh?"

"Sometimes I wonder if teaching you is perhaps the best idea I've had in a millennia or the worst." Magnus said, finally relenting after giving the matter much thought.

"Very well, if my past is the lesson you wish to learn. Let us begin." He reached for her hand and held it firmly in his own, warning her ahead that they were about to embark on a journey through his memories.

He saw the wisdom in her proposition, regardless of his reluctance to accept it. And there were, indeed, a lot of things Aggregia could learn out of his experiences.

The sun and moons passed over the skies quickly, the seasons changed, reversing course as the Red King retraced the steps of time. Backwards, they went, through the ages and into the past. The memory world of Prospero warped and twisted in accordance to Magnus' will, leaving the pair untouched as it manifested itself in a form several decades younger, of the days when Magnus was yet a bright and curious youth much as his niece was now.

Tizca was noticeably smaller now, even the Great Library. The city had been reduced to its earlier days, when the young Primarch was but the student and yet to assume the mantle of responsibility that came with being king of the world of sorcerers. Tizca and Prospero as a whole, in those days, was far less united in its pursuit of knowledge before Magnus came into power.

Knowledge was treated as an invaluable resource, and competition for it was fierce. And with the knowledge of the arcane came power, power created strength, strength drew challenge, challenge incited conflict, conflict bred catastrophe.

As magnificent and beautiful as it was, the face of Prospero betrayed many a site so ruthlessly marred by the aftermath of these sorcerous wars. Magnus, among many other neophytes, fought in many of these wars. In those days, no knowledge was forbidden, no ritual deemed too hazardous…

…and no price too high to pay if it meant gaining the upper hand.

Aggregia witnessed her uncle's past self wielding the powers of the Warp with ease as one would wield a sword, and she was greatly impressed by everything she saw. Magnus himself, however, did not share her enthusiasm. Even as they watched him turn the tide of every battle he fought in, by bringing down the mountains on his enemies and sometimes even the very sky itself.

"I was raw in discipline then, young and impulsive." He said, grimacing in disgust as his younger self often turned to the use of daemon summonings among many other sorcerous taboos he committed in the past. Yet in these acts of recklessness, Magnus did not commit the acts out of a whim. He explored warpcraft with seemingly unrestrained freedom out of a innocent desire to know the many secrets of the universe.

His company of young and equally reckless sorcerers did not aid in his perspective either.

Daemons were not recognized as malevolent entities, presenting as little threat to them as the wild animals that roamed the hills and valleys of Prospero. Rituals and practices, many of which would be deemed hazardous by even the most experienced psyker in the galaxy, were never frowned upon nor left untouched.

"I looked upon the Warp with awe, throwing caution to the wind as I walked upon its grounds. Fool that I was, I never thought of the powers that lay beyond the veil of reality. Powers, older than time, that lay…ravenous and waiting." Magnus allowed her to see the ever-shifting realm of Change, where in the past he walked the eternally twisting halls of the labyrinthine crystal library of Tzeentch, collecting knowledge that no human eyes should ever see.

The awful pang of guilt ran through Aggregia, which she quickly suppressed as she and her uncle walked through his memories.

She saw many of the books Magnus' past self pilfered from the shelves of the library and recognized all of them to be the same ones she conjured up, the ones she studied in secret and so foolishly thought she could keep from her uncle.

She watched as he began to wander away into the deepest reaches of the labyrinth, and she started to walk after him. Magnus' hand closed tighter around her wrist, preventing her from leaving. When she looked up at him with a questioning look, he said to her.

"My mind is surrounded by a dark mist. Stray far from me and you will be lost to it forever…" He nodded in the direction of his past self as he did stray further away into the darkness of Tzeentch's kingdom. "As I did."

"Is this how…how you fell?" Aggregia asked hesitantly.

Magnus nodded again, "It did not happen immediately, but it happened anyway." He willed them back to the memory world of Prospero, unwilling to show her any more lest he be lost in the past and her with him. "I fell, and my sons fell with me. I was not gifted with discerning teachers nor good company, I was not taught the reasons why some things were forbidden and were best left alone. I thought I could master the Warp, yet it in turn swallowed me up. But you…" He put a hand on her shoulder, "…you, Aggregia, you are not me."

After trying so many times to get her to come clean, Magnus appealed once more. He knew he could force her anytime he wanted to, to have her will bent to his, he would do so in a heartbeat another lifetime ago. He knew this, but chose a higher path. "Granted, you are like me in so many ways, but are so fortunate to have this chance to walk another path. I may not know everything, but you have me as a teacher and I know enough to know what is best for you. Forsake this dark path you tread. Whatever foul promises have been made to you, whatever siren call of some forbidden knowledge beckons- heed them not."

Aggregia knew exactly what he meant, but feigned innocence nonetheless. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

This did not anger Magnus, but it saddened him greatly.

In the time he had known her, the years he spent teaching her the proper disciplines of a psyker, Magnus had grown fond of the girl. More than a mere student, more than a means to an end- she was the daughter he never had. She may not feel the same way, but he did, and Magnus was left to wonder if he was seeing the world through the eyes of the Emperor he so loathed- the eyes of a father so deeply hurt by the failure of his children.

"Don't lie to me, child." He said quietly. "Please don't."

Aggregia's gaze found the floor, unable to meet Magnus' own as her shame grew unbearable. She heaved a heavy sigh and met his eye with a resolute stare, "What have I to hide, when all I know you have taught me?"

Magnus' lip grew taut and he bit back the overwhelming urge to slap the insolent woman across the cheek. He opened his mouth to speak, voice ready for a harsh lecture, when suddenly a horrid crack of thunder in the distance turned their attention skyward.

There, the clouds parted, and bright pillars of flame rained down upon Prospero. A hailstorm of fenrisian warheads, shells and other ordnance shook the memory world down to its core, but left Tizca untouched as its barrier shielded it from the relentless orbital bombardment brought upon by the fleets hovering above the planet.

"What is this? Another one of your memories come to life?" Aggregia strained to keep her voice above the roar of the detonations impacting all around the city.

Magnus frowned, realizing this was so, yet knowing that it was not by his will. "It is, but played by someone else's hand." He beckoned for her to follow, "Come with me."

They journeyed across the vast white city. Magnus ignored the all too familiar events that transpired that painful memory, but Aggregia found herself transfixed as she watched the brutal catastrophe that was the Burning of Prospero. Entire cities went up in flames, and the earth heaved at the shattering blows of the Space Wolves' mighty weapons. When all was ash, only Tizca remained standing. The memories of its cityfolk were a blur, almost as if Magnus did not wish to see them again and did not bother to make the effort of fleshing them out in detail.

And yet, curiously enough, Magnus' memories of the city's defenders and of its assailants were incredibly fleshed out. His admiration for the long dead Thousand Sons who died defending Tizca, his hatred for the barbaric Space Wolves who burned his city, both powerful emotions shaped the memories and painted a clear and morbidly beautiful picture of that bloody day.

Aggregia watched as brother fought brother, a mere glimpse into the terrible first days of the Horus Heresy, and watched with unparalleled horror whereas Magnus looked on with annoyance. These were unlike the time she witnessed traitor astartes descending upon her home, marred and changed by the Warp. She watched demigods, both at the height of their strengths, fighting in the streets of Tizca, among its gardens and within the obsidian pyramids. Their dead piled the white marble streets, and the air grew heavy with influence of the warp, which began to boil with the Primarch's growing ire.

The memories ignored Magnus and Aggregia, but not all. This confirmed Magnus' suspicions that someone had come to his sanctum, and manipulated his memories to draw him out. A familiar face, a most hated face, revealed itself to Magnus as he emerged into the open to meet whoever was challenging him.

A face, battle-scarred and whose mouth twisted into a wolfish snarl, and whose eyes stared through blood red locks with murderous intent.

Aggregia got into her combat stance and raised her hands to conjure her weapons. She was unsure that memories were able to harm them, but she did not wish to take her chances. "Who is that?"

"That would be your other uncle." Magnus' lips twisted into a grimace of complete disgust. "Leman Russ of Fenris, Primarch of the Space Wolves and bastard son of a she-wolf."

"Really?"

The red cyclops rolled his eye, "You do understand sarcasm, right?"

"No, I meant the first part." Aggregia replied, "He's my uncle? Just how many uncles do I have?"

"Hmm." Magnus muttered, "Too many. We are one very big dysfunctional family."

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