The master of the night moved with his chosen sons. By now, the rest of his inner circle had joined him. He had no conscious idea what he was walking into and yet, on some level, instinct guided him. If Konrad Curze had any apprehension about walking into the ruined fortress of a slain brother, the Night Haunter did not. More and more, the two sides of his personality were becoming separate entities. One side of him wanted order but not at the cost of his soul, while the other side wanted order no matter what.

Fear was a great weapon, both sides knew, a multipurpose tool to be wielded whenever it was necessary. It was also a deterrent; many worlds that had been brought into the Imperium courtesy of the Night Lords never forgot that lesson. Fear was not something that Curze worried about: no Astarte knew fear, and Primarchs were more elevated still. But here and now, he was gripped by the sense of desperation that had flooded the walls of this monastery. He knew what Adonnas had once achieved here. A world ravaged by storms, Feral before the Primarch's arrival, coming to have a populace able to sustain a Legion fortress, as well as the know-how to construct it, while also contributing to the growing Imperium in other ways. There were only two Imperial Army regiments that had been raised from this world, but they had more than proved their worth in war. If Curze recalled correctly, they flourished in underground campaigns such as Tolmar and Recnos.

He had admired them, not just for their tenacity but for their successes. That was something that had ended when their master fell from grace and they fell with him. Curze tried to recall what his brother looked like, and found it hard to do so, which concerned him a little; all Primarchs had near-perfect recall of everything they had ever seen or read. Curze had met Adonnas only three times, but once should have been enough to never forget. Now he found it hard to even picture him. The Emperor's meddling in his sons' memories, to ensure his edict was obeyed? Or a creeping degeneration of his own mind?

He shook it off him and drank in the fear of the serfs and novitiates that had died in this place. It was – intoxicating, and he revelled in it. Sevatar, like his brothers, also could feel and sense the cloying emotion. It was what they all thrived on; they were the Night Lords, after all.

"How many died here?" Malithos Kuln, the Captain of the 9th Company and a member of the Kyroptera, wondered aloud. "It is... wonderful."

Sevatar glanced across at him. Some of his brothers fed off the fear like an addict on drugs; but although it stirred the wanting in him, he had it under control. He was the First Captain and the favourite son of the Night Haunter; therefore he had to be above his brothers. There were others who would love to take his place, Zso Sahaal being one of them. Ambition in the Legions was not unheard-of. Any sign of weakness on his part would leave him open to attack from within. Abaddon may have been the most feared First Captain amongst the Astartes, Kharn and Sigismund the most violent, Kaesoron and Ahriman the most learned - but Sevatar had his own reputation amongst the Legions, and he was not about to let that falter for the sake of a fleeting moment of drinking in the fear.

"Almost an entire Legion," Acerbus replied.

"Almost?" Kuln fought to keep his voice steady.

"Those that survived the cull were brought into other Legions. But I think it is safe to say that the upper echelons of the Storm Riders' power all died here." Acerbus stretched.

Curze remained silent, the walls provoking memories that were not his. The screams of the dying, the shouts of the defenders as they fought against the savagery of the Wolves and the Hounds... Sevatar noticed his father's expression and glared at his brothers for silence. It did not matter that the sons of Adonnas had died here, it mattered that they died and they died as warriors. He was conveying his displeasure at their lack of respect to a fallen Legion.

"They do not deserve our respect," Acerbus voiced to his First Captain's unspoken words. "They betrayed the Emperor."

"Enough!" Curze barked. "They paid for the crime. It matters not: they died here, and with them my brother. Silence, Krieg; check on the Shadow Warriors."

Cowed into silence, Acerbus bowed his head and spoke into his internal vox. Sevatar walked alongside his father and switched to internal private vox. ++Acerbus is one to watch, father; I hear that he has made pacts with...++

++I am aware of his actions, my son++ Curze assured. ++I am dealing with it++

Sevatar nodded once. ++Did he suffer?++

++Who?++

++Your brother, lord; did he suffer?++

Curze stopped and touched one of the walls. He closed his eyes and was silent for a long time.

++Yes++ Curze quietly said and continued his walk.

Silence fell once more.

The Raven Guard made their way deep into the hollows of the fallen fortress-monastery. Corax allowed Uneses to lead them, for after all this was a homecoming for him, if not one that he would have wished for. Although the others could not see it in the deep darkness, Corax read every emotion that crossed his adopted son's face perfectly.

Every shattered cell they passed caused a pang of grief to flow through the sergeant. Memories that seemed to be from a distant age flowed through his brain like it was only yesterday, instead of many decades ago. The Raven Guard kept a respectful silence; no matter the crimes or perceived crimes, their cousins had died here by the thousand.

They exited the corridor to come into a large arena. It must have been glorious in its day, but now it was a collapsed ring of shattered stands and seating. Megalithic columns, raised to the glory of the Primarch, lay in pieces like a scattered jigsaw.

"I was here the day it happened," Uneses spoke quietly.

"Why?" Corax asked.

"I had suffered a serious injury in our last battle, one that my own healing needed aid with. The Apothecary decided I needed to be on light duties for a time, so my captain told me to show our newly raised brothers what it meant to be a warrior. I had been here for four hours, teaching, observing, correcting, just as my former mentor had done to me; and that was when all hell broke loose."

"Tell me." Corax rested a hand on his sergeant's shoulder. "I want you to confide in me, my son."

Uneses took a deep breath and moved to the centre of the ring. The other members of the Raven Guard circled their Primarch and watched their brother as he made his way to where he had been that day.

Uneses stopped and looked down. Then, he crouched down and removed his helm with a hiss. Touching his hand to the dust-laden floor, he brushed it and closed his eyes as he saw the ancient stain that littered the floor. It had long since dried into the stone, but the mark of blood was still there.

"There had been fifty newly raised brothers here. All had their strengths and their weaknesses, not yet come through the fires into becoming a full brother, but experienced enough as scouts to know what was expected of them, and what they had to work on to make them true Storm Riders. The First Captain wanted me to pick out the best for bike duty, those that showed the aptitude to ride our storm-mounts; eventually all would get that honour, but for the moment only a dozen would be chosen."

Uneses looked upwards and pointed. His face became an angry snarl and none of the Raven Guard doubted the emotions that played through their adoptive brother's mind. It was like an infection, and his reaction spread to them all, except, that is, the Primarch.

"The Wolves and Hounds came through the ceiling. They had bombed the site from orbit and made enough of a hole to get through... Half of my pupils were cut down by the World Eaters before they even had a chance to recover, and I ordered the rest back to allow us to regroup. I remember cutting down a Wolf who would have taken my shoulder off if my pauldron had not been there.

"The serfs that had been watching the practise were shot or told to kneel with their hands behind their heads by the World Eaters' Captain, a man named Sagroth. He killed everyone who refused his order, disembowelled them without a thought. That was when I noticed that the World Eater had these things in his head... even the Wolves avoided him, maybe he smelt wrong, I do not know, I just know that those things in his head, which I now know to be the Nails but didn't at the time, made him revel in the death and destruction he wrought.

"I killed him with my bare hands, giving my charges time to escape and regroup with the battle-brothers that had been practising in their own practise chambers. It gave us a chance to get our bearings. We were aware of how the sons of Russ fought, but we had not encountered the Red Angel's sons before. Their barbarity and their violence outstripped even what the Wolves were capable of. Most of them were even worse than Sagroth, it turned out - the others killed the humans that worked here without a thought. The corridors swam in blood and they barely gave us a chance to get an opposition organised. But we did, and when we fought back and had recovered from the surprise attack, we fought as we should have from the start. We used our knowledge of the fortress-monastery to our advantage."

"Guerilla tactics," Branne mused. He could appreciate that, like his brother and other members of the old guard - it was a tactic that had served them well in the revolution to free Deliverance. "I suspect Russ and Angron thought a direct attack would work."

"Aye, keep the Storm Riders off guard," Agapito agreed. "It's a tactic that I would have used."

"It might have worked too, if they had not been divided," Captain Tordan Cereck of the 13th sighed. "We all know that Angron does not work well with others, especially with Russ."

Uneses nodded, but his mind was lost in the swirl of his memories, so he only really half-heard what his battle-brothers were saying. "We used the old tunnels to our advantage, killed scores of them, as many as they killed of us. But we were too outnumbered, and were forced to the surface, where we reunited with the greater Legion. What followed was a series of feints, subtle jabs back and forth, for a brief time. I was near my lord's battle zone when I heard Russ proclaim that the Storm Riders had fought well and honourably, that there was no more need for this sacrifice, if only Adonnas would surrender. My father was incensed: his home, his sons, and his people had been cut down for no other reason then they did not agree with the Emperor. That was when my captain, First Captain Klyne, told me to take the surviving brothers, Novitiates and Serfs and surrender. It was Adonnas's order. I wanted to be with my father, serve him till the end, but he told me himself, if there was ever to be a day of reckoning for this crime, then some of us needed to survive to enact that revenge." Uneses bowed his head "How could I disobey my father? Even though every single fibre of my being told me, no screamed at me, to stay where I was, to fight to the end. I only heard of that end relayed to me from the front, as, drop by drop of Storm Rider blood, my brothers were cornered, and in the end, though Adonnas gave his all, it proved not enough."

Corax saw his nephew hang his head and walked over to him. He crouched down beside him; even at this level he still towered over the Sergeant. He rested a hand on his shoulder and lowered his head.

"My son, you have done as your sire requested and more than that. You have done as you were asked, not talking about it, keeping that day secret from others, as I asked you to when you came to me. Now it is time for the son of Adonnas to enact his own revenge, not alone, but with his brothers by his side."

Uneses raised his head and met the Raven-Lord's gaze, his eyes bloodshot from the tears he was shedding.

"My twin brother died that day, lord, as did my blood cousin. I saw the World Eaters cut them all down in showers of blood and guts. If I can take a slice of that anger with me to the Night Lords then I would have done my duty, as a grieving brother and cousin, and above all, one last time, as a scion of Sturmgarten and a Storm Rider."

Corax nodded. "You are also a Raven Guard; never forget that, Patria Uneses." He squeezed the Astarte's shoulder. "Come, we need to get to the central chamber before Curze does."

Uneses nodded and, bowing his head, he stood to his feet. He got his bearings and unslung his bolter. "This way, my lord."

Acerbus Krieg listened to what had been relayed to him and cursed in colourful Nostraman, He moved himself swiftly alongside the First Captain and stopped him.

"They have been seen," he quietly spoke.

"Who?" Sevatar was a little irritated by the intrusion into his thoughts, thoughts that extended to the deaths of thousands of cousins for a cause he was not sure he entirely believed in.

He loved his father and his loyalty was always to his father, along with the Emperor; but the idea that some of his brothers and cousins sought to make nice with demons sat uneasy on him. He wanted to take those who would make such deals for power and glory, and make them suffer for their folly. The Night Haunter had expressly forbid such dalliances, but he was aware that there were some who would take that path just to make them more powerful. Krieg was one of them. All Sevatar had to go on was rumours and half-truths, but it was enough that it had already come to his father's ears to know that the mighty Night Haunter was already making a plan, one that he had not sought to enlighten his First Captain on, but one that he ultimately thought necessary.

"The Raven Guard are here, my lord, Corax himself leading them."

Sevatar heaved a sigh. "Shit."

"Permission to join the Shadow Warriors and see off this problem?"

Sevatar looked around him and nodded. "Take Kuln, Nakara and Herek with you, and their men. Follow the Raven Guard and, if necessary, confront them, but not unless it is paramount to our operation here."

"Who informs the Dark King?"

"I will, in a few moments. Now go and tell the Shadow Warriors to stay in the shadows, out of sight of the Raven and his minions. We all know how well Corax sees in the dark...as good as us."

"We Nostramans are better," Krieg proudly snarled.

"And you are a fool to underestimate the Raven-Lord, Krieg. Now go before I change my mind." As far as Sevatar was concerned, Acerbus's mission was as like as not to kill the Second Captain, but he wasn't about to stop him. The other captains would retreat when necessary.

Acerbus bowed his head and, taking the other three Kyroptera members with him, disappeared down the way they had just come. Although they went midnight-clad, Sevatar had a feeling that they would learn that where against other foe their stealth might work, against the Raven Guard it would not.

He breathed in deeply and once more resumed his pace beside his father. He told him what Acerbus had told him. The Primarch did not look overly perturbed by this unwanted turn of events. In fact it was like he had expected it. Had he foreseen it? Sevatar was aware that his father had suffered his waking nightmares more than normal lately, especially since the Emperor had granted them this mission. He had told his favoured son about them, death on wings of black. Sevatar was not so sure about the wings of black, but from the other description it sounded an awful lot like Corax. Who else could take his father by surprise? Only one who knew the night as well as the Night Haunter. Regardless, when he opened a private channel to his father and relayed the information to him, Curze turned to face him, and the smile that hit his face was a grim one, but one that told Sevatar he already knew Corax was here.

The First Captain did not like this, not one bit. This was going to go wrong; he could feel it, and if he felt it, then Curze did so a hundredfold. The Primarch carried on, pausing only to consult with the human, before moving in the direction the terrified man pointed out.

These corridors were a maze of broken tunnels, crashed rock and collapsed ceilings. Skeletons of humans and Astartes alike littered the floors. The armour was corroded, but he could make out the faint markings of a World Eater here, a Wolf there, a Storm Rider over there. Sahaal shook his head a little as the scattered remnants of the carnage stared back accusingly at them. The captain was not by nature a superstitious man, that was best left in the domain of humans, but there was something about treading in this place that was wrong, above and beyond the violation of treading on the bodies of the dead (something he had done often enough). He could understand the bodies of the Storm Riders laying where they fell, and their human servants and serfs. But he could not understand why the bodies of the World Eaters and Space Wolves had not been collected. He expressed such an opinion to Vacanas Bolderious, the Justice Bringer and Captain of the lauded Twelfth Company.

The moody and stern-faced Astarte knelt down by one of the remains and checked the body over. "The gene-seed was taken," he rumbled. "My guess is they removed the gene-seed but did not have time to move the bodies. Maybe the ceiling collapsed before they could return to retrieve their honoured dead."

"This place feels wrong." The Talonmaster shook his head. "There was a reason this world was removed from the star charts."

"Aye, brother. Worry not, I know that you are not given to flights of fancy where superstition is concerned; I feel it too. It is not fear, but the echoes of the dead. The Storm Lords were witches, after all," the Justice Bringer remarked.

"The sooner we are away from here, the better I will feel," Sahaal mused. "This is a place of death and dishonour, I am not comfortable here my friend."

"Quiet," Sheng hissed. "We are Night Lords; those are the feelings of mortals, not us."

"Forgive us, Equerry, it is just the history of this place."

"Talonmaster, I understand that such a battle stirs feelings like that, but this is a place of the dead and the damned. Under the Emperor's command it was thus made, and under the Emperor's command we are here. Still." Sheng stared at the half dust claimed remains. "It would not hurt to remember the dead."

The three Astartes saluted the remains, not sure if they were saluting a brother Legion or a renegade one from either era. In this place, it was hard to tell the difference.

Polarick stopped where he was walking as he came to a crossroad of corridors. Closing his eyes, he dragged up the information that had been handed down to him from his forefathers, and after checking the walls and reading the time-worn markings, he bowed before Curze.

"This way leads to the throne room, Sire."

"And from there?" Curze asked.

"From there, a hidden passageway to the inner chamber."

"Then lead on, my friend. This will soon be over, for all of us."

The remaining Astartes became aware that their own mixed emotions had conveyed themselves to the Primarch. He had said nothing because he may have, on some level, felt their trepidation. Whilst death held no fear for him, and fear and darkness were his greatest allies, he was also aware of the constraints such a place held for soldiers and his sons. They were stepping over the bones of Astartes, and Warp-tainted Astartes at that, from an age that seemed long gone now. He did not doubt his sons' bravery, nor their ability to manipulate the fear of others to their needs, but he also understood that a place such as this held unforeseen poignancy now. And, above all, he knew that he had felt another presence within these walls - not Corax, but a less controlled anger, a warrior-god angry at the fate of his sons.

If Konrad shut his eyes, he believed he saw the angered visage of his brother Adonnas, even in death swearing to wreak bloody revenge on those responsible for his Legion's demise.

Well, brother, the Emperor may have enacted such an order, and Russ and Angron carried it out, but it was Malcador who first brought your name to father. He is dead, so part of your revenge has been sated. The truth is, brother, that I want to allow your sons to live again, walking a path they were destined to walk. And this time, you will not be there to corrupt them.

A shiver ran through the Lord of the Night and suddenly, and without warning, one of his visions hit him full-on, causing him to lose his balance and have to be supported by Sevatar and Sheng...

The central chamber loomed before them. The Emperor, in all his golden glory, stood before it, beside him Malcador and Constantin Valdor, behind them the Apothecaries and Mechanicum priests.

"Did the Sons of Hades' gene-seed arrive?" the Emperor wanted to know, his voice echoing around the chamber.

Before him lay the body of his second son. Nevertheless, the Emperor seemed to show no reaction to the sight of one of his own sons dead before him.

"We have it, my liege, ready to be transported down at your command," Malcador explained.

"Then do it, and seal this chamber with him in it. Then wipe the planet from the star charts. Only we shall remember it."

The tech priests took the gathered Storm Rider gene-seed into the chamber and the door was closed behind them, whether they were prepared or not, Curze feeling their shock at such an action. The Emperor, however, had no qualms about locking them in there. He knew he could trust Malcador, Valdor and both Primarchs to the secrecy of this place, but he was not prepared for the tech-priests to blab to their masters on Mars about it. They were archaeologists of the lost, and he did not want this place found, ever.

Curze was out of sync with time, almost as if he was there but not there. No one could see him, but he saw the expression on the Wolf King's face, one of barely hidden hate at the Red Angel and confusion at his father.

Leman understood why Adonnas had to die, intellectually if not emotionally; maleficarum was no small matter. But he certainly did not like surprises, especially having his mission snatched from him by the unstable Angron. He would have a talk with his father about that when they were alone, but for now, the Wolf King remained silent as they moved out of the central chamber and sealed it off forever.

Curze came out of his trance, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. Sevatar and Sheng held him whilst Sahaal tipped a water flask to his father's lips. Curze gulped the water like a dying man and eventually came back to his senses.

"How long?" he hoarsely asked.

"One hour and twenty-two minutes," Sevatar replied. "We should give you a moment."

"No." Curze shook his head. "We press on."

The Primarch got to his feet and let his head clear. A Primarch was crying out for vengeance beyond the grave, and for the first time since taking this mission, Curze wanted to know why. Surely Adonnas had gotten what he had wanted, the Imperium split in half and flooded with daemons? And what of Charion's role? He wanted to know why two of his brothers had been declared heretics, in a universe that had not yet gone mad. For despite all his doubts, the Night Haunter had no doubt that it mattered a great deal, and that there was more to this story that he was meant to uncover.