Memories of Darkness

"You don't have to face him alone," Guilliman said to Vulkan as the three Primarchs marched down the prison hallway. Since the coming of the Night Lord Zso Sahaal after days of celebration and joy, Vulkan's mood had darkened. His hatred of the Night Lords and their Primarch were known to their brothers and it was understood why.

During the Horus Heresy, Konrad Curze had taken Vulkan hostage and tortured him to the point of death and resurrection over and over. It had driven Vulkan insane and earned Curze Vulkan's eternal hatred. Any of his sons were also targets of Vulkan's wrath as well.

"I have to," Vulkan said, his normal jubilant voice lowered to a growl. "If he is who he says he is... he was there during the Heresy. He may have been on the Nightfall when Curze had me prisoner. I need to see him. He... must..."

"Don't, Vulkan," Corax said, a hand on his shoulder. All three Primarchs were out of their armor and in normal garb, though Vulkan's normal green robes were a dark hue. Almost dark enough to hide blood. "The Night Lords deserve everything inflicted upon them, but you are better than Curze and his hellspawn. Remember that."

Vulkan's eyes narrowed at his brother. "Remove your hand, Corvus. Now."

After a moment, Corvus complied, allowing Vulkan to enter the cell. Corax turned to Roboute, his dark eyes filled with concern. "When Curze broke him... what level of madness was he filled with?"

Roboute gritted his teeth. "He could not speak. He could not reason. He did not recognize me as his brother. That being said, he did save Euten when she was threatened by Curze. So perhaps he will retain some level of control. That being said... if we hear anything, we will enter and restrain him."

"Agreed."

Sahaal was chained directly to the wall, his power armor stripped from him. His bare body revealed a lifetime of scars upon pale skin, even showing under his nearly shaved black hair. However, Vulkan noticed something else about him. "You are Terran Born," He stated.

"How do you figure," Sahaal asked.

"Your eyes. They lack the pure darkness found in all Night Lords of Nostraman birth. You still have some visible pupils. And since I doubt many new Night Lords are of Terran birth, I can guess you are from the time of the Great Crusade. So you are who you say you are. You are the First Captain of the Night Lords. Zso Sahaal, correct?"

"I am he. Second First Captain of the Night Lords. Named after the death of Sevatar was all but confirmed. So do you wish to know the news I bring or are you going to take your revenge for my father's crimes?"

"What news could you bring me that I would want to hear?"

"Curze is alive."

The temperature in the room dropped considerably as soon those words were spoken. "You lie," was all that Vulkan could say. "Curze is dead. He was assassinated millennia ago. He is dead and that is the end of it!"

"I am not lying. Have a Librarian scan my memories and you will see I am speaking the truth." Sahaal's eyes did not blink as he stared into Vulkan's bright red eyes. "If you do not listen to me, know this: Konrad Curze is planning an invasion of Terra. He is going to attack with an army of Night Lords, Sons of Malice, Iron Warriors, Alpha Legionnaires, and Red Corsairs. He has Titans, Chaos Knights, and Traitor Imperial Guard. He is going to destroy the Throne World. That is truth."

Vulkan could only look Sahaal in the face as he spoke. For the longest time, he said nothing before letting out a sigh. "Fine. I will indulge you. You want your insanity to be verified, then I will have Chief Librarian Tigurius scan your mind. But if you are lying, then I will kill you myself. And I can assure you, it will be as painful as what you inflicted upon your victims. Worse in fact."

As Vulkan turned away, Sahaal cleared his throat. He did not turn around. "What is it?"

"In the Strike Cruiser's medical bay, there was an older woman named Mita Ashyn. She looked younger than she is due to rejuvenat treatments. Is she alive?"

Vulkan was surprised at the actual concern he heard in Sahaal's voice. Night Lords were psychopathic monsters that lived for nothing but inflicting pain upon others. For one to actually care about someone other than himself was unbelievable. "The prisoners in your cruiser were taken to the medicaid. I will have someone check if there is a woman by that name."

When Vulkan returned to the hallway, he immediately took charge, turning to Guilliman, fire in his eyes. "Have Chief Librarian Tigurius brought to the dungeons. I will return after I have donned my armor and checked in on the prisoners in the medicae."

Guilliman looked put out at being ordered in his own fortress. "And tell me, brother," he said, putting emphasis on the last word. "What will you be having my Chief Librarian attempt with the prisoner?"

"I will be joining minds with the Night Lord. There is something in his memories that I must see. You will have him brought here as soon as you are able, Roboute."

As he turned, Guilliman grabbed Vulkan's muscular arm. For a moment, he was amazed at how strong Vulkan was. All the Primarchs were strong, but he could tell from touch alone that if Vulkan wanted to, he would break his grip and his hand with no problem at all. It was only for a moment. "You will tell me what you want to know now, Vulkan! You may be Regent, but you are my guest here and there are certain courtesies a guest must show his host. Especially when that host happens to be his own brother! What is it that you need a psyker like Varro?"

Vulkan looked down at the hand gripping his arm and then at his brother. "Roboute, release me. This is my business. Not yours."

Roboute released his brother and looked at Corax for support, but the Lord of Ravens just stood there, watching. He then looked back at Vulkan, fury in his eyes. "How... dare you? You say that anything involving the Night Lords is not my business? I will tell you something, brother, you are not the only one who suffered at the claws of Curze and his insane bastards!" He pointed at the cell door with a trembling finger, his fury barely contained. "That bastard's father butchered my sons and the Dark Angels as he wreaked havoc in my city! He threatened the woman who raised me as her son! His sons slaughtered my people on Sotha! Your pain may be great, but you are not the only one that has suffered! Do not put yourself above the pain of others, Vulkan!"

Vulkan looked at Guilliman for what seemed an eternity before speaking in a low tone. "Brother, I apologize for my choice of words, but if I told you why I need a Librarian like Varro, then you would put the entire system on high alert and prepare for war. This visit is a celebration. The whole reason I went on this pilgrimage was to reconnect with my family. That purpose has been ruined by the news brought to me by this monster. When I am done, you may do with him as you wish. But I need to know if... I just need to know."

"And what of your daughter," Corax asked at last. "She was worried to see you distressed so. This effects her as well, Vulkan."

"Tell her nothing, Corvus. Please. She has had enough nightmares. I beg of you, as her father." Then he turned away from his brothers and walked off to don his armor. Whatever happened next, he wanted to be prepared.

After the Lord of Drakes left him in the dark, Sahaal thought about Mita. The witch... no, the woman was the only thing he could consider a true friend. For years, in and out of the Warp, the two of them had been all they had. They were outcasts in a Galaxy that hated them for existing. She, a former Inquisitor Interrogator who was cursed with the powers of the Warp and he, a Traitor Space Marine who had gladly butchered thousands of innocent lives that was considered a deserter and coward by his brothers. They were a pair.

When they had begun their journey together to who knew where, they had kept low. Sahaal had scratched his armor clean of any markings that would identify him as a Night Lord. It had been one of the most painful experiences in his life. The two of them had fought to stay alive. They had stolen from the rich and given to themselves. Mita had altered her appearance multiple times through surgeries so that she looked nothing like she had when they'd first met. They had stayed out of the Imperium's way and it had been fine.

But then the rumors in the dark began. Rumors that Curze was alive. That he was gathering an army. Mita had joined a ship that was heading into the territories where Night Lords had been raiding so she could sneak aboard to see. They had kept in contact through the Warp, but then she'd fallen silent. Sahaal had to find her. He had to make sure she was okay. Then... he shuddered at what he'd found aboard that ship...

It was as if a great revelation had struck him. That everything he'd believed in was truly wrong. That everything his life had been was a lie. He had begun to believe this before, but this had been the confirmation he'd needed and feared. And he had been afraid he had been about to die. That had sickened him. He wasn't supposed to feel fear. He was supposed to inflict it. It had been what he'd been made for! Hadn't it?

"What am I," he asked himself for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "What... am I?"

When Mita Ashyn opened her eyes, she was in a medical chamber and an onyx skinned giant with flaming red eyes and green and gold power armor was staring down at her. Her throat dried as she realized what this... thing was. She was in the presence in one of the Sons of the Emperor. She was staring at one of them. One of the Primarchs. "Are you Mita Ashyn," the giant asked her.

She could not speak so she just nodded.

"Good. Zso Sahaal was worried about you... for some reason. I am surprised that a monster like him could feel concern for anything that was not himself."

Mita found her voice at last as her friend was insulted. "He is not a monster, my lord." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, but the giant could still hear her thanks to his incredible hearing. "He has done terrible things, I will admit that, but you do not know him as I do."

"No, but I know his father. I know his kind. I fought them during the Horus Heresy. I suffered at his father's torture for no reason other than it amused him to try and break me. Monsters cannot change, Mita Ashyn." He was about to turn away when he looked back down at her. "Are you well enough to move?"

She nodded. "I believe so, my lord."

"You will be brought to his cell then. I think your presence will encourage him to speak truth."

Mita's heart froze. She was to be used as a bargaining chip by one of the Emperor's sons? Her faith in the Emperor had waned over the years of travel, but she never thought it would come to this. The giant seemed to read her thoughts. "I will not use you for coercion, Mita Ashyn. I simply do not see the point in holding you prisoner like this. I hate the Night Lords and all they stand for, but I am better than they are." He turned away and exited the medical chamber, but not before informing the doctors to have her prepared to be moved.

Mita lay her head back and sighed. She was tired and underfed, but she was glad to be alive. When the Night Lords had discovered her, somehow, she had feared for her life. Then Sahaal had come and... she could not remember much until waking up here. She hoped Sahaal was okay.

Doctor Malbus was horrified at the state of many of the prisoners that had been brought off the Strike Cruiser Midnight Son. Many of them were missing limbs and some were covered in dirty bandages to hide their flayed skin. In all his years as a Doctor in the service of the Ultramarines Chapter, he had never seen anything like this. He was just a man, but he had been respected in his field by Marneus Calgar. He had studied human and transhuman physiology. He had seen wounds of war. But these... these were wounds inflicted by a sadistic monster. "God-Emperor save us," he muttered. "Why not just kill these poor souls and put an end to their suffering?"

"Because the Night Lords enjoy suffering." Roboute Guilliman stared down at the victim of the Night Lords and sighed. "Doctor, how are you?"

Malbus' eyes widened as he looked up at the Demigod towering above him, fighting the urge to kneel to him. "I... I could be better, Lord Guilliman. I just... I can't understand it. Why do they do it? Why do this?"

Guilliman looked at the dog-tags around one of the patient's neck. The name and service number had been scratched out with the only indication to his identity being that he was a Cadian. "The Night Lords... believed that fear of consequences was the means to the end. That Compliance, back in the Great Crusade, could be achieved by slaughtering the population of one planet and broadcasting their screams to the rest of the system. Fear of consequences. The idea has some merit... but their methods were abhorrent. Curze often said there was no other way. I did not believe that. I believed he enjoyed what he did. Curze was a monster and he made the VIIIth Legion into monsters. Now they carry on his legacy for the sake of it." He put the dog-tags back and put a reassuring hand on Malbus' shoulders. "Do what you can, Doctor. If you cannot save them... ease their passing as best you can."

Malbus' throat was dry after what he heard, but he managed to find his voice. "I will do my best, My Lord." After Guilliman departed, a nurse approached him with a pict slate.

"Doctor, we've been finding some irregularities in their blood work. Almost as if... they were injected with something. Also, the temperature on some of them is rising steadily. We believe it to be infection."

Malbus took the slate and studied it. There was something there, but he had to be certain. "Could be a poison or something. I will need a fresh sample to study."

Varro Tigurius bowed to Vulkan as he approached in full battleplate. "Lord Vulkan, it is an honor to meet you in person. I am sorry we haven't had time to talk in private. I thank you for requesting my ser-"

"Will you be able to link our minds safely, Chief Librarian, yes or no?"

Tigurius was surprised by Vulkan's bluntness. From what he had heard of the Primarch, he was more gentile towards others. Here, he was stonefaced and determined, lacking any of the joy he was famous for. "I will, Lord Vulkan. But may I ask why? Why do you need me for this? Couldn't you have one of your own Librarians attempt this?"

"I need to keep this private. You are an outsider and a man of your word, Tigurius. If you speak of any of this... I do not need to tell you, do I?"

Varro was... surprised by this as well. "No, Lord Vulkan." He turned to Guilliman as if asking for confirmation. The Primarch of the Ultramarines nodded yes. That was all Tigurius needed. "Very well, my Lord. Shall we?"

Before entering the cell, Vulkan turned to Roboute. "There is a woman coming. She will be escorted by two members of the civilian guard. She will be seeing the prisoner after I and Master Tigurius are finished. Treat her well."

Roboute arched an eyebrow, as if this was common sense. Why would he need to mistreat someone who had done nothing to him as far as he knew? As Vulkan and Tigurius, he heard Corax mutter something. "What was that, brother?"

"Something isn't right."

"What do you mean?"

"Why ask for a Librarian? If a message has to be given, then why couldn't Vulkan just make him tell it? What could be so important that it needs the Chief Librarian to verify it?"

"You suspect something is wrong?"

Corax nodded. "There is. I don't like this. A lone Night Lord emerging from the Warp with a ship full of prisoners? Night Lords do not release prisoners unless they are dead. And did you see his eyes? That Night Lord in there... he is afraid of something." He looked Guilliman in the eye. "Have you ever heard of a Space Marine being afraid? Let alone a Night Lord? I don't like this. It feels like... Like a trap."

In the cell, Vulkan look down upon Sahaal. "Are you ready? The process will be painful."

Sahaal smiled. "Your concern is touching."

"Unlike your Legion, I have a level of empathy to the point that I would not want something that was inflicted upon me to be inflicted on another."

"I can manage pain," Sahaal said.

Tigurius stepped between the two, his hands outstretched, one on Sahaal's forehead. "Lord Vulkan, if you would kneel, we can begin."

Vulkan complied and allowed Tigurius to place his hand on his forehead. "Now... visualize what you want Lord Vulkan to see. Keep that in your mind as I begin the mindlink." Varro's psychic hood began to glow as he channeled his power between the two transhumans.

As Vulkan waited, he felt something pull on his mind. As if something was calling to him to leave his body and go on a journey. He resisted at first. The mind of a Primarch was not one to be manipulated so easily. But he let it go. He let his mind wander from his body as it traveled along Tigurius' arms and into Sahaal's mind. Then... he felt darkness envelope him.

It was... like a blanket or a cloak. Something that when wrapped around you would keep you safe. Was this how Corax and his Shadowmasters felt? He shook it off and resumed concentrating. He could not get lost in here. He was no psyker, but he wasn't untrained in the matters of the mind. When arriving on Terra, Malcador had tutored him in the ways of the mind so that any Xenos or otherwise could not break him. "You are a Primarch," he'd said. "You were designed to be the best of all men. But even the best of all minds can fall to an enemy if it is untrained. Never let your pride in yourself be your undoing, Vulkan."

He began to visualize himself and his body. How he wanted to look. He opened what approximated his eyes and looked at what he had visualized as his hands. The darkness parted around him to reveal the bowels of a ship. A ship he'd been imprisoned on for what had felt like an eternity: The Nightfall. Or at least it greatly resembled that ship. It had been an Imperium ship before being taken over and had been corrupted by the Night Lords. Beside him was Sahaal, dressed in full battleplate, his helm painted to resemble a fanged skull.

"Follow me. I remember where I was headed."

As they rounded a corner, a member of the VIIIth Legion with a skull helm appeared before them. Vulkan was about to attack when Sahaal put a hand in front of him. "Don't bother. We are in my memories. Nothing here is real." Vulkan breathed out his anger at the sight of the Traitor Astartes and continued to follow Sahaal through the ship while clinging to the shadows. He was surprised how none of the slaves or Astartes they passed seemed to notice them.

"Why can they not see us?"

"Because this place is a reflection of my memories at the time and I was cloaked in the shadows, thus they are unable to see me. As for you, you are not part of this so you are not seen."

Soon they reached the holding cells and Vulkan was greeted with a terrible sight. Soldiers of the Imperial Guard showing signs of starvation and wounds of torture slumped in their cells. Those that still had eyes had a vacant look in them. Their minds were all but shattered, their souls broken by the cruelties of the Night Lords.

"Did you come to free them as well," he asked Sahaal.

"No. It would have been pointless to. They are the walking dead."

"Then why did you have them in the Strike Cruiser?"

"Because they were set free."

Before Vulkan could ask what that meant, Sahaal stopped in front of a cell containing a woman with stringy blonde hair, pale skin, and a malnourished physique that spoke of weeks if not months of starvation. She looked up at Sahaal through the bars and a smile spread on her cracked lips. "Zso," she wheezed out. "You came..."

"Save your strength," Sahaal said. "I'll have you out of there quickly."

"No... They knew... you would come here. It's... a... trap."

From down the corridor, the noise of armored feet approached. Sahaal stood up to face the approaching foe, pointing his bolt pistol in the noise's direction. From the darkness, an Astartes in armor assembled from different marks emerged. His helm was of the Mark V line with ornamental wings and what looked to be tears of black lightning painted under the eyes. His chestplate was adorned with a crack Imperial Aquila and around his neck he wore a cloak of skin. At his sides were two weapons of unique design. One was an ancient Storm Bolter and the other was a beautiful golden Power Sword with the emblem of the Blood Angels upon it. But what seemed to draw Sahaal's gaze was a run painted on the helm. Vulkan could not read it, but Sahaal's face told him that he did. "Soul Hunter... Talos. You're still alive?"

The voice that emanated from the vox grill lacked the lilting accent of Nostramo. Rather it was flat and without emotion. The voice of a weapon without a soul. "The Soul Hunter is dead," he said. "I am Decimus, Prophet of the VIIIth Legion, successor of Talos of First Claw, and we have been waiting for you, Zso Sahaal. Come. Our father is waiting for you."

Decimus turned and vanished into the dark. Vulkan looked down at Sahaal as they started after him. "You knew his predecessor?"

Sahaal nodded. "Soul Hunter was one of the few of us besides Sevatar who was close to the Primarch. He had inherited his ability of foresight. He was also a powerful warrior. If he's dead then he more than likely gave his opponent a hard fight." He laughed. "It's funny, he was always a self-righteous bastard. Always going on about the glorious purpose Curze had given us in building compliance through fear. I couldn't stand him. Now I'm actually... sorry that he's gone. Strange, isn't it?"

"Not really. No matter your relationship, he was still your brother."

Sahaal laughed harder at those words. "That may be the case for your Salamanders, but the Night Lords are not one for brotherhood. If there's one thing we hate as much as the Imperium and the Corpse on the Throne, it's each other."

Vulkan just looked at Sahaal before replying. "Then I pity you."

That was all the two of them said to each other before reaching their destination. They entered what looked to be a meeting room where many transhumans were talking through hololiths over a massive table. Only one was actually present and Vulkan knew him well. His blood froze at the sight of the stringy black hair that fell over shoulders that were covered by a cloak of feathers, one half black and the other white. He wore the same midnight blue armor that Vulkan remembered from the Great Crusade. Decimus knelt in deference to the being that called himself the Night Haunter. Vulkan knew him by the name their father had given him. Konrad Curze. He was alive. No. This had to be an illusion. He was being tricked. He had to be!

"My lord, I brought him as you requested."

Curze turned, his gaunt face split open in a smile that showed his black teeth that had been sharpened into points. "Ah, Zso Sahaal. At last you have returned to the fold, my prodigal son, and you brought my brother as I requested."

"My Lord, I heard you were alive and I..." Sahaal trailed off as he realized what Curze had said. "That... he didn't say that when I met him here. This... this shouldn't be happening."

Curze turned around fully and held out his arms which ended in his signature lightning claws, Mercy & Forgiveness, as if he was asking for a hug. "Oh, but it is, Sahaal. I am glad you managed to follow the instructions that I left in the back of your mind. I have been waiting to speak to you for a long time, Vulkan. Now, Sahaal... sleep." Reaching out with a clawed finger, he tapped Sahaal's forehead, causing the Night Lord to collapse. Vulkan's throat went dry at the realization that Sahaal's mind had been hijacked. "Now, my brother, we can talk in private."

"You... you are dead. The Officio Assassinorum took your head! And... how can you be doing this?! You were never this powerful a psyker! "

"Well, to answer your first question, I was brought back to life thanks to the efforts of a Traitor Marine Chapter known as the Sons of Malice. They are quite helpful fellows once you get to know them. Second, I am changed, Brother. I am the Avatar of a God. I am not quite the Night Haunter you knew. The body you see, well, the one in the real world, is but a shell that houses my soul. Everything you saw in Sahaal's memories did happen, but I left a part of myself in his mind. Sahaal was telling you the truth for the most part. I did let him, his woman, and the soldiers go on the condition he would deliver my message, and he has. Now... how are you, Vulkan? How is your mind? All healed it seems."

"You... why? What do you want, Curze?! Why are you doing this?"

"I wanted to tell you that I am coming home, Vulkan. Perturabo, Alpharius, myself, and our sons are returning to Terra to see Father and to drag him off that throne of his. Won't that be a wonderful visit?"

Vulkan stared for a moment before breaking out into a deep baritone laugh. "You? Attack Terra?! Horus only came close because he had nine Legions behind him! How are you going to conquer Terra, a world defended by Rogal Dorn, with only three Legions, all of which are barely at full strength?"

Curze's smile began go stretch until his entire face was a grotesque grin. "Oh I'm not just attacking with three Legions, Vulkan. I have Warbands, Traitor Titan Legios, Traitor Guard, Fallen Sisters of Battle, and Chaos Knights at my beck and call. And finally, brother, I don't want to conquer Terra. I want to drive it mad and tear it to pieces after I smash Father's brittle bones to pieces! Surely you remember the little fail-safe you made for Father in case Terra fell to Horus?"

Vulkan's hearts froze as he remembered the Talisman of Seven Hammers he had made at the behest of the Emperor's manipulations. If the Golden Throne ever stopped working it would consume Terra entirely. "You are insane! Why?! What is the point? You would be killing your sons, our brothers, and billions of innocent people!"

"Exactly, Vulkan. And all in the name of the True God of Chaos. Malice."

The uttering of that name actually made Vulkan nauseous to hear. But he had no idea what that name referred to. He had never heard of that particular God before. Curze smiled at Vulkan's reaction.

"Does it hurt to hear, Vulkan? Does the name fill you with bile and pain? I hope it does." He moved closer until he was inches away from Vulkan's face. "I remember the last time I saw you. You had kept yourself from delivering the final blow with that hammer of yours. I knew you wouldn't kill me. I had known by then how I was going to die. I knew it would be Father's word that would deliver the final blow to me." He showed the scar on his neck where his head had been severed. "I decided I wanted a reminder of my previous life." He then noticed Vulkan's expression had changed to one of... pity. He smiled at that. "You always were soft, Brother. Ever the kindest of us. Probably more than Sanguinius. Do you know what he did to me, brother? The most cruel of punishments. He gave me hope that Father could possibly forgive me for all that I did to you and to the Galaxy in his name. That I could come back to the fold. Then he tossed me into a stasis pod and sent me into space. A cruel punishment. Who knew he had it in him?"

Vulkan did not know what to say to that. Finally, he found words. "Just stop this, Konrad. Just stop it. What is the point of any of it? You get a second chance at life and you decide to keep killing? What kind of life is that?"

"It is what I was made for, Vulkan. What we were all made for. I thought you would have understood that by now. Besides, what I am doing now is a mercy compared to what the Imperium has done in Father's name these past ten thousand years. We all knew him better than these cattle, Vulkan. Even when he lied to us about the Warp, we knew him better. We actually spoke with him and yet these poor deluded fools believe they have conversed with him. Do you know how satisfying it was to break the Sororitas that joined my glorious cause? It was more satisfying than my own death and how it vindicated my beliefs of cause and effect. I saw it all from beyond the veil of death, Vulkan. I saw past, present, and future. I saw how that whore, Euphrati Keeler went as insane as me during the Siege of Terra, believing that Father had sent her out there on some GLORIOUS PURPOSE. I saw how she built the foundation of the Ministorum using LORGAR'S own words that he was censured for, but altered to fit her own insane ramblings! From there came death and destruction. The dream died there, Vulkan. The Imperium we were made to create is dead and it can never be brought back. I know what you and Rogal are doing to try to fix it. Trust me when I say that my way will be the most efficient solution. Let it finally die, Vulkan. It's been on life support for ten thousand years! I know that THIS is what Father truly wants. Let him die at last, Vulkan. Let him stop shouldering the burdens of these selfish and cruel creatures! He deserves it more than any of us!"

Vulkan's eyes narrowed. "First you say you want to toss his corpse from the Throne as if you are unseating a tyrant then you are the faithful son coming back to deliver mercy to a father you love. Which is it, Konrad? What are you exactly? A monster or a son?"

"I am both, Vulkan. And you know I am right. Let the Galaxy burn as Horus said. Let it all end. There is no point to it. That is the truth I learned from Malice. No point but Anarchy and Fear. That is what I always stood for and what I believed."

Again, the name made Vulkan sick. That and Curze's insanity. "I won't let you, I will return to Terra and I will stop you!"

"I hope you will, Vulkan. It should have been you and me on Terra. Not that arrogant hypocrite, Magnus. But don't worry, we will have our time. I have seen it. Just as I have seen my confrontation with Father. But first... I have a surprise for you."

"What surprise?"

"You know those people I gave to Sahaal? They have a little extra something in their blood stream. And they are on a timer. A slow one that should be, if my calculations were correct, about to go off... soon. Oh, and you might want to kill the Strike Cruiser's Navigator and Astropaths. An old friend of Guilliman's has wanted to visit the Ultramarines for some time. Oh, and say hello to my niece for me. I have missed our little 'chats' since Sanguinius started interfering."

"What?! What did you do to N'Bella?! Who are you talking abo-" But then Vulkan awoke in the cell with a gasp of breath and looked around in alarm. "CURZE? CURZE, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Lord Vulkan? What did you say?" Tigurius was looking at Vulkan with concern on his face. "Was that... Curze?"

Vulkan was making for the cell door in haste. He turned back to see that Sahaal was unconscious. "Alert the Librarius! Have them comb the Fortress for any Warp incursions! Send some Marines to the Medicae Center immediately and find my daughter! And have the Midnight Son's Astropaths and Navigator executed! Now!"

"But, Lord Vulkan, why?"

"We were tricked! Konrad Curze has returned and he set a trap for us!"

"Doctor, they are all burning up!"

Malbus could not understand what was happening. Ten minutes ago, the patients from the Midnight Son had begun to burn with a fever that was so intense that it would normally kill them. No matter what they did to cool them down, the patients just screamed and screamed, begging for death. And what was worse was that their temperatures were rising. And he was still waiting on the test results on one of the blood samples he'd taken. There had to be something. A virus that brutalized its host. It had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.

"Blood results are in, Doctor," A medicae servitor trundled up to hand Malbus a slate. Taking it, Malbus looked at the holoslate and saw something that shocked him.

"What... what are those?" Tiny metal fragments, almost microscopic, were in the blood vessels of all the patients. And they looked like they were attached to the blood cells... Malbus' throat seized up as he looked at the closest patient whose skin was beginning to glow. "EVERYONE! EVACUATE! NOW! NO-" Doctor Frenton Malbus' long career ended in an explosion of bright light.

"What was that?" Mita was being escorted by two human guards to Sahaal's cell when she felt the explosion that destroyed the Medical Wing. "What's happening?!" The guards readied their lascarbines, keeping Mita between them. "Someone please tell me what is going on!"

"Ma'amselle, please remain calm," said one of the guards. We are here to protect you. Gendison, vox HQ. See if they know what's going on."

The one called Gendison started rubbing at his forehead and began to mumble. "What was that? Gendison! Speak up!"

"Samus..."

"What was that? Gendison, we may be under attack!"

"Samus is here..."

"Gendison?" The guard was concerned as he put his hand on Gendison's shoulder. "Gendison, are you okay?"

Gendison turned around and raised his helm's visor and looked at Mita and the Guard with a smile that Mita could only describe as utterly insane and with eyes that were pitch black. "SAMUS IS HERE! SAMUS IS THE MAN BESIDE YOU!"

Author's note:

SAMUS IS HERE! SAMUS IS THE MAN BESIDE YOU! God, I love that part. Yeah, Samus is kind of a joke as a villain, but you cannot deny the monster has a great entrance.

Anyways, the meeting between Curze and Vulkan has occurred and I've wanted to have this for a long time. Here's what I love about Curze as a villain. He is the prime example of the phrase "Just because you're correct doesn't mean you're right." Curze's entire philosophy of fear being the proper means to compliance has some merit, but the problem with Curze is that is where it ends for him. As Sevatar said "What other means did you try?". Say what you will about Guilliman, a lot of people have and still are, but he made sure that when he brought a world into compliance, he left it in a better state than he found it. He rebuilt, same with Dorn. That's why Nostramo rebelled. Curze was the linchpin to making sure things worked there. When he left, the fear of the boogeyman left with him.

However, he is right about the Imperium being a broken down corpse that won't die and is not what the Emperor would have wanted. After reading "Lord of the Night" and the interpretation that Curze was always loyal, even when it was believed the Emperor betrayed him, I thought it would work to have Curze be so out of his mind to the point where he thinks that ending the Imperium would make Daddy happy. That and having him be the Avatar of Malice is definitely driving him so crazy that he is sane.

As for Vulkan's attitude, I got the idea from "Vulkan Lives" where it is revealed that while Vulkan is a good man, he is not soft, nor is he reasonable when angered. Him snapping at Guilliman and taking full command and making demands of him is definitely within character. Especially when it comes to Curze. While The Lion, Guilliman, and Sanguinius each have their legitimate beefs with him, Vulkan has the most reason to loathe Curze since he killed him multiple times.

But this is pretty much the beginning of the end. That's right... the first part of the Primarchs Return Saga is coming to an end. But don't worry... the story will continue. Next time... The Man Beside You.