{oOo}

At dawn the next day Kharn led an advance party forwards to investigate what was happening at the village. Up close it looked even more primitive than he had at first presumed, little more than leather tents, many of which had evidently been on fire at some point during the night. At first glance there didn't seem to be anywhere intact enough to be disguising someone the size of a Primarch. (And even by that standard, Angron would be catagorised as extra-large).

Fortunately, the equerry had thought ahead and brought along an auspex. "You know, we really should have noticed these caves when we were deploying," he observed mildly.

"We did," Dreagher told him. "Our lines have covering fire of all the sections nearest to the surface in our general vicinity."

"Of course." Kharn scanned the area and then gestured to one of the tents. "Under there."

The passages that had been dug down into the ground were considerately large enough for a fully armoured primarch and therefore more than large enough for two Astartes to walk abreast. Whoever had dug them had also thought of the decoration, they were marked with carvings and mural of battle. Kharn couldn't help but admit as he and mired a crude but compelling depiction of World Eaters locked in battle against orks that they felt rather homey. Wait... why would primitive tribesmen paint World Eaters into their art before they had ever encountered them?

The artwork grew more disturbing as they marched deeper into Cadia, but somehow also more compelling. Other legions were depicted... but they weren't just fighting xenos. Other imperial elements were in conflict with them and Dreagher admitted to rather admiring what appeared to be Astartes triumphing over a giant warmachine before recognising the machine as an imperial titan marked as belonging to the Legion Mortis.

And then there were the portrayals of their primarch.

Angron, slaying what were recognisably Eldar.

Angron, locked in combat with warriors clad in the same blue as the armour of the Ultramarines Legion.

Angron, sat on a throne, someone chained before him.

Kharn paused and examined the latter picture because it showed signed of recent defacement. He couldn't make out who it was that was supposed to be his master's captive in the artwork, the stone had been smashed to render them unrecognisable. All he could make out for sure was long brown hair. Very strange.

Ultimately they found Angron after Dreagher heard echoes reminiscent of someone howling in fury. As they got closer Kharn recognised what was going on and called a halt. "I know what that is," he told them. "I'll go on ahead."

"What if the Primarch is locked in battle and needs us?"

Kharn shook his head firmly. "No. This isn't battle. There's no reason to expose you to this." He walked on, leaving a dozen confused World Eaters behind as he cursed himself for unleashing this horror on the universe.

He'd only had the best of intentions, trying to civilize his Primarch enough to interact with the rest of Imperial society. Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus still refused to forgive him, even after a hundred years.

The passage Kharn was following led into a larger cavern, this one decorated with dead bodies. There were numerous wooden stakes half-buried in the ground. Some of them had corpses jammed onto the other ends. The floor was covered in gore and sections of what was recognisably Angron's armour.

The Primarch himself sat unperturbed in the midst of the carnage, sewing together a sack of grey skin with a bone needle and what looked like human sinew. Worst of all, he was singing.

Some of the Primarchs were good singers. Sanguinius and Fulgrim notably, but even Leman Russ was said to have an excellent, if unpractised, baritone. Angron, putting it mildly, did not.

What was worse was that he enjoyed singing.

Probably because he knew how awful it sounded.

Fortunately, Angron broke off his song when Kharn set foot inside the chamber. "I left you with the Legion for a reason."

"I came after you for a reason."

The primarch snorted. "Fine. Pick up my armour then." He held out the bag and Kharn accepted it grudgingly. "It won't be long now."

"What won't be long?"

Angron's eyes blazed. "Until they come."

{oOo}