Chapter 5.2 The Powers of the Four
"So… Do we just… enter?" asked Sanguinius with some trepidation.
The Great Angel, Magnus and Lorgar, with a small number of accompanying Word Bearer Astartes stood before the Chaos Gate on the world of Molech. Its giant arch encompassing their vision, it made even the giant Primarchs seems moderately sized. It was a piece of ancient ritual and rune craft, one that had stood for many years before the Imperium arose. It imposed on the landscape like an icon of something almost malign.
As the Warmaster and supreme commander of the Imperium's forces, Sanguinius had found no trouble in arranging transport to Molech, nor gaining ground clearance for all concerned. The local forces included units of the Sons of Sanguinius and Ultramarines, none of which questioned why the Warmaster was visiting such an out of the way planet at this time, and Sanguinius was certain to shut down any lines of inquiry before they arose. None but the highest commanders knew that 3 Primarchs walked Molech's surface, and by the time the conspiracy was unmasked the trio would be long gone. Any patrols of guardians of the gate had been quietly ordered elsewhere, or silenced unknowingly by Lorgar's machinations. Sanguinius would never have approved of such actions, but it was not something Lorgar had sought permission for.
For now, bar their escort of loyal sons, the 3 Primarch were entirely alone before the Great Gate on Molech.
"Well it is a door," said Magnus sarcastically, "Perhaps we should all knock and see who answers? Maybe one of your Gods will pop its head out, Lorgar."
"Have no fears, brothers of mine," said Lorgar confidently, disregarding Magnus' jibe, "We shall all step together through the gate, though we should prepare ourselves to stand within the realms of Chaos itself. We shall be welcomed by the Four, and all their servants."
"Yes… Though it wouldn't do to be exposed to the raw untapped essence of the warp," said Magnus, pulling a series of scrolls from a pouch, "Going in there without the necessary protections would leave you open to all manner of manipulations of the creatures within. Only an idiot would walk blindly through a gate like this. Fortunately for us all, I am not so mentally deficient. Hold still both of you."
Magnus raised his hand and began to read from the scrolls, drawing complex gestures of warp craft in the air. Sanguinius waited patiently whilst Lorgar watched his brother like a hawk, mentally recording the ritual to be written down later for his personal use. Within a few minutes, Magnus clapped his hands together, and pale blue cylinder encompassed each of 3 Primarchs, glittering softly as if star light was reflecting in a pool of water.
"This should be sufficient," continued Magnus with some pride, "The sharks that lurk beyond this gate will not be able to touch us no matter how hard they might try to steal a piece of your soul. Just avoid consciously letting them within your psychic aura and you will be fine. Our wills shall be more than sufficient to repel even the strongest of neverborn."
"Not that I required such a thing…" muttered Lorgar, "My will was strong enough even before your tinkering."
"They may offer you deals," said Magnus to Sanguinius, ignoring Lorgar, "I have encountered many in my time investigating the warp, and my advice would be not to take them… unless we can outsmart them. Much like Father I have on occasion taken from the warp, and it is possible to trick the tricksters into providing something for effectively nothing. We might well be able to do something similar again, especially if we are to gather enough power to start our own Fifth Primordial Essence. Afterall, the easiest way to start a bonfire is to transfer a flame from something that is already burning."
"That makes sense," agreed Sanguinius, turning back to look through the gate again, "Then I suppose there is nothing more than to begin our journey."
"Thus our pilgrimage reaches its zenith," commented Lorgar, eliciting another disapproving shake of the head from Magnus.
Sanguinius reached out with a hand and gently touched the skein of gateway that ripped like water. Summoning his resolve, the Great Angel pushed through and in, followed closely by Lorgar with Magnus bringing up the rear. There was a rush of force, like stepping underneath a waterfall, and then the trio were there. They stood within the realms of the warp.
Beneath their feet was a harsh reddish brown rock, the sky was a mass of pink, purple, green, red and blue billowing storm clouds. Lightning forked between them and the echo of voices, whispers and screams served as the mild backdrop of sound that all could hear.
"At last… I stand within the hallowed halls of the Gods once more…" whispered Lorgar to himself.
"Here we go…" muttered Magnus to Sanguinius, as a quartet of figures approached the 3 Primarchs, "Seems as if we have a welcoming party."
As Lorgar would notice in detail, the figures approached from the 4 cardinal directions. One stood tall with feathers of blue, a pair of avian heads snapping at each other, wielding a staff of clearly sorcerous origin. Another appeared almost naked with a violet hue to their skin, cloven hooves clacking against the rock, a set of four upper limbs swaying provocatively as it approached.
One appeared as a large writhing mass, many insects and pests crawling over and into its form, its great bulk being dragged behind it as it moved towards the Primarchs. The final figure was the most ferocious and classically demonic looking of the group, a beast with blood red skin, a pair of black bat like wings wearing bronze armour and carrying an axe large enough to cleave even a Primarch in twain.
The Four figures approached, and the first figure, the Avain creature, bowed before the trio of brothers.
"Welcome, Heralds of the Fifth," one of its heads croaked as the other ranted nonsensical gibberish, "I am Kairos Fateweaver, Lord of Change and favoured of Tzeentch. With us this day are Zarakynel, Keeper of Secrets, servant of Slaanesh. Scabeiathrax, Great Unclean One, representative of Nurgle. And finally An'ggrath, Bloodthirster and Champion of Khorne. We are the mightiest chosen of the Four, Masters of Alteration, Desire, Decay and Blood. It is good you have come, for there is much to discuss."
"We are humbled by your presence," said Lorgar, bowing low, "It is good to see you again, Fateweaver. And you, An'ggrath. I hope you are not too upset by my victory over you last time we met."
The beast snarled and lunged forward to strike Lorgar, but his 3 companions interjected themselves to prevent his attack. Clearly An'ggrath still smarted from losing to Lorgar the last time the Primarch had visited the realms of the Chaos Gods.
"Calm… son of Khorne," burbled Scabeiathrax, his voice like the sounds of a man drowning in mud, "There will… be much time… for that later."
"So you are the servants of the Four… Gods… Primordial Essences," said Sanguinius, surveying the quartet, "You are not as I expected. One would have thought that they would send servants who looked fairer. You come as you are… or as you wish to be. Not disguised with illusion. The raw unvarnished truth of what you are. You are much like the beasts described in ancient writings of Pagan Deities and their kind. Another word for that might be… Daemon."
"When one comes to treat and parley it does not do to hide one's face," hissed Zarakynel, "You come seeking truth, so truth you shall have. Though I could put on a more beautiful face, if it would please you. There are many things I could do if you desired it."
"He is not yours to toy with," growled An'ggrath, "Ka'Bandha is already upset with all that has occurred. The Yielding Heart shall not be touched by any one of the Four. He is to lead the Eight bound for the destruction of the Anathema's plans."
"I come with questions for you," said Sanguinius, focusing a steel eyed glare on the creatures before him, "I am not Lorgar, and I will not worship you or your patrons as gods. I have little interest in the motivations of the warp born, nor whether your masters have individuality or are merely manifestations of sentient will. I leave those debates for Magnus and Lorgar. Instead, I am here to learn and understand truth. The truth of my Father, the truth of Horus' death, and the truth of his revival. You will answer truthfully and you will answer with clarity, or else I shall find other ways to extract the information from you."
"Hmm… I enjoy your forceful nature, blooded one," squeaked Zarakynel, "But your quest for truth shall be answered. I hold many secrets, as do others here. I can say for certain your Father took a portion of his power from the Four. He made promises he knew he would not keep, tricked and manipulated his way into obtaining what he desired. He has used that power to build his hidden paths within the ruins of my sires' forebears, amongst other things."
"Was this power enough to save Horus?" demanded Sanguinius, his temper flaring in his expression from the floral language used by the creature.
"Horus could have been saved by the gifts of Nurgle," gurgled Scabeiathrax, "By embracing the wounds and decay brought by the weapon used to kill him, the Anathema could have committed Horus to a rebirth greater than any."
"He was beyond saving," said ones of the heads of the Fateweaver, as the other replied, "Tzeentch could also have brought a change in Horus to bring him back. Any of the Four could have gifted life, where there was death. Even the vulgar perversions of Slaanesh can result in one who cannot die, over and over again. The Gods grant gifts on those favoured. It was certainly within the power of the Anathema."
"By which he means those who can bind themselves to a Primordial Essence can tap into its powers to manifest a number of effects," said Magnus, with an heir of superiority, "These neverborn are just echoes, shouts into the immaterium that happen to align with the nature of a Primordial Essence. They might be able to tap into some gestalt field of human knowledge, but we can do that ourselves within enough time and research. Much as we can make our own Primordial Essence."
"And you shall," said a new figure, a tall slender shadow made of a mist like smoke, which took its place amongst the other 4 servants, ascending from the rocky floor as if it were nothing but a pool of water, "When the Fifth comes into being, we shall be, and we shall always have been."
"Who…or what… are you?" asked Sanguinius, as Lorgar looked upon the creature with his mouth agape.
"I am a servant of the Fifth," said the figure, "Or the aspect of one that shall be. Much depends on your actions, the actions of the Heralds. I may be a creature that topples Empires and demands obedience from the defeated, or I may be a slow and silent killer that stalks the forlorn and brings tragedy wherever I go. I might be the joyous light of a Divine Protector, shielding those from harm and coming to the aid of those in need, or I might be nothing, just a shadow on the wall cast by a passing light that is soon diminished. You will choose what I am to be, but it is yet already chosen and has always been."
"There is no Fifth God, this is all the ramblings of a mad man alone at his desk," garbled one head of Kairos, as the other responded, "Our kin that stands here cannot fully manifest its aspect because the aspect has yet to be determined. The Nature of the Fifth could be many things. It could be a Dark King, demanding Control and Obedience from all whom stray within his gaze. It could be the Divinity of the Protector of Mankind, sat upon a throne of Gold. There are many things it could be. Or it could not be at all. You will shape the future, the present, and the past of the Fifth."
"Its name is not yet spoken," said the figure, "But as the Four are known and shall be known as Khorne, Nurgle, Tzeentch and Slaanesh, so shall the Fifth also be known in turn by a name. As the sacred number of the Gods are Six for Desire, Seven for Decay, Eight for the Blood and Nine for Change, its sacred number shall be ⍳ forever more. Its aspect is not yet certain, but these at least shall be constant."
"Did it just say One? Was it Five? Or... Ten?" asked Lorgar, pulling forth his book and desperately scribbling notes with a fine quill.
"Brother, you do not have one Iota of understanding here do you," mocked Magnus, "You forget that our simple concept of base ten mathematics does not apply here in the warp. Numbers are a useful shorthand in the material realm to connect with immaterial concepts but deep into conceptual space like this you might as well be asking what colour is the letter A."
"Yes, very funny Magnus," growled Lorgar, "However it might be YOU has a lack of understanding. Servant of the Fifth, please, what name might we call you? What is the name of the Fifth?"
"I have no name yet," said the figure, "But I may share with you a secret name only the Devotee may know. A name that you shall understand as the Fifth."
The figure approached Lorgar and appeared to lean in close, bringing up a hazy limb to act like an arm and hand. It seemed to whisper like a school child sharing a something with a trusted friend. Lorgar's eyes went wide, as he glanced over at Magnus, and then Sanguinius, a glassy eyed grin on his face.
"Thank you," he whispered back to the figure, "This is more than I could have hoped for."
"Don't keep truths to yourself Lorgar," said Magnus impatiently, "What did you learn?"
"Well, there is no word in High Gothic that would translate directly," replied Lorgar, a dreamy look on his features, "But in ancient Colchisian the name would be Geltoneth. There is a lot implied by that word, something which is of many things. It could still yet be something else, the context is not yet revealed, but I understand now what the hopes are for the Fifth, the power that it would hold. It truly would be on the level of the Great Four."
"Well if we can shape the Primordial Essence, we can make something glorious," said Magnus with confidence, "We are not interested in conquest, nor ruin. Our focus will be something that will bring hope to all, a freedom from death itself."
"Well put, Magnus," agreed Sanguinius, "It seems there is danger in this venture. We must be ever vigilant that our Primordial Essence embodies only that which is good and true in human nature, not any of these dark paths that lie before us. There must be no mistakes, my brothers. Our work must be absolute and without error."
"It will be, brother," said Magnus, placing his arm on Sanguinius' shoulder, "We shall be beyond error. We will take as much time as we require, ensure our work is perfect before we take the final steps."
"Know this," said the figure, addressing Sanguinius now, "Whatever may occur, you must get to Terra and secure the body of Horus, if you wish him returned to you. Terra is where the Fifth shall emerge, where the Heralds must be to guide its formation. If you travel through the skies you shall not arrive in time. You must go below to reach above."
"Speak more plainly," commanded Sanguinius, "We have no time for riddles. If we must go to Terra, how do we arrive from below?"
"I think I might have a solution," said Magnus, thoughtfully, "Father's project shields a way to Terra via the Imperial Dungeons where he set up his laboratory, deep within the Sanctum Imperialis. With enough power I could shatter the protections. An astral projection could be there immediately but would be limited, especially since that option would not work for any but the most psychically gifted, but in theory if we had a stable warp gate much like this one to reach the outside of the barrier, we could march straight through whatever he is building and into the Sanctum Imperialis. No fleets. No Siege of Terra. Just a march on the Throne World with only what resistance can be gathered in the Sanctum immediately after my psychic assault. This would minimize causalities too."
"Then that will be our course of action," agreed Sanguinius, "If we must make for Terra, then a long drawn out Siege would cost far more than I am willing to bear. Entire populations would be slaughtered in such a conflict. I do not wish for that. Especially with the distraction Perturabo has designed for Mars, if we can seize the Sanctum Imperialis from within we can end the entire conflict before it can even meaningfully begin."
"Few of our brothers will reach Terra before we can," Lorgar pointed out, "With the warp storms beginning to take effect reaching Terra by ship will be almost impossible. The only Legion we will face on Terra will be the forces of Rogal Dorn. Whilst I have no doubt his Imperial Fists could hold out long from an assault from above, I doubt our Father will have let him anywhere near his projects within the Sanctum Imperialis."
"Little fear of that," grunted Magnus, "If he didn't let me near them, Rogal definitely won't be. But that secrecy will be our Father's undoing. If he had simply let us in, made us a part of his work instead forcing everything to be a battle, everything could have been avoided."
"Our Father failed us in many ways," mused Sanguinius, "He failed Horus in the greatest way possible at Ullanor. He failed you Magnus when he punished you at Nikaea. He failed you Lorgar when he burned Monarchia. And he failed me when he made me Warmaster, a role that should never have been mine."
"Come now, brother," said Magnus warmly, "None could have achieved what you have as Warmaster. Before all of this you managed to keep all of us in line, and now you lead the Crusade Vitae which will be the greatest victory over mortality our species has ever managed."
"That is what I hope," sighed Sanguinius, "If Father will not save us all, I shall. I will bring an end to sorrow and despair, and the fear of death both for oneself and one's family shall be no more."
Lorgar finished his writings and turned back in his tome to look at older pages. The reflected his thoughts during the last time he found himself within the warp, alongside the Fateweaver. He asked a question then, but the nature of the answer was now much changed. If he could punish Roboute Guilliman and his Legion for Monarchia, he would not pass up the opportunity.
"Fateweaver," said Lorgar, addressing the avian creature, "When we last spoke you told of a prophecy, that I must choose my desires or to further the goals of the Four. Does that prophecy still stand?"
"Yes," hissed both the heads at once, "But the game has changed. You must choose between self satisfaction and the birth of the Fifth. The Heralds must be present, or the child shall be stillborn. Both must commit to the creation beyond all else."
"Pity," muttered Lorgar, "But then again, perhaps it cannot be helped. I have a greater purpose after all…"
"Enough of this," said Magnus dismissively, "Creatures of the warp, manifestations of the Primordial Essences. We come seeking the power our Father took from you. Show us the way. I command you, in the name of the Crimson King."
"Of course, right this way," said one head of Fateweaver, as the other replied, "It is not so simple, Nonbeliever, Father of a Thousand Sons. Secrets are shared amongst friends but power is not so freely given. There is trade, much like those done before. By yourself included, if you remember. You traded this to my Master Tzeentch long ago in exchange for the protection of your sons."
The Lord of Change opened its free hand and within glowed a yellow orb. Magnus reached up and touched the void on his face where his missing eye had been. Glancing back at the orb he instantly knew what it was, and what it represented.
"The eye I traded for the safety of my sons," he murmured, "So it is here…"
"With more to give you can receive more from the God of Change. You are already walking his path…" said Kairos, as its other head rambled incoherently, "Its not your eye, no more deals may be done!"
"Perhaps I do not need to bargin with you or what you represent," retorted Magnus, "There are Four sources of Primordial Essence here. I can barter with any and all of them."
"The GrandFather… would welcome you… with open arms!" uttered Scabeiathrax with great delight, "He would… protect… all your sons… from the horrors… of change!"
"As would the Prince of Desire," said Zarakynel, caressing a blade it carried, "It could make the every waking moment of your life and your sons lives a bliss beyond measure."
"How about you?" asked Magnus, turning to An'ggrath, "What does your power claim to offer?"
"Khorne has no care for sorcery," growled An'ggrath, "The God of Blood cares not from whence the blood flows, only that it doth flow, and the skulls be piled high for skull throne."
"You think me incapable of spilling blood or recovering archaic battle trophies from my fallen enemies?" laughed Magnus, "I know spells that could make rivers turn red beneath a starless sky. I know rituals to rip the very bones from a man's body. I could make a throne of skulls myself with but the flick of my finger. I could drain a city of its vital fluids with but a word. If your Primordial Essence truly does not care from whence blood flows, then surely I can satisfy its requirements."
"There is no honour in your witchcraft," grumbled An'ggrath, "I would cut your head from its shoulders if it would please Khorne."
"You could try," taunted Magnus, "But I have dispelled creatures far more malicious than you. But my point is made. Perhaps I can take from all of you, perhaps binding to all Four Primordial Essences, I can play you off against each other. None of you would let me bind completely to any of the others, so I can draw as much as I require without fear of any dominating my psyche."
"Then you must go to the realms of the Four, and ask for their blessings!" rasped Zarakynel, "Walk the Four paths here to each domain of the Gods, and in exchange for an act of devotion you shall be granted a great boon. You may need to shed your skepticism though. The Gods will not appreciate one who does not bow before them with sufficient supplication…"
"As I have said before, many a time, there are NO gods," growled Mangus, "I do not need to perform tricks on command to seize the power of the Primordial Essences. Do you really think I would come here without a plan? Without an idea to take what I needed to form the Fifth Primordial Essence? I have spent months studying and understanding all that is required to bind the power I seek to take. The only question I needed was if there was one Essence I could take safely, or whether taking a piece from all would be safer. Your presence has answered that question for me. Too much of a single Essence leaves you subject to its domain. Taking all Four… I will be free to use what powers I see fit!"
From about his person, Magnus withdrew another scroll with his left hand. This one was far longer with many intricate designs and glyphs. The Crimson King ripped off the armour on his left arm, tossing it to the side as with his right he brought forth a ritual blade. He turned to Lorgar and Sanguinius with a smirk on his face.
"Brothers! I will need you to defend me as I climb the mountain our Father walked to take fire from those who would keep it! This ritual will take some time, do not let these neverborn interfere!"
"NO!" hissed Zarakynel, lunging for Magnus with claws and talons outstretched.
Sanguinius was as swift as a bird in flight, leaping into the air and landing before Zarakynel with his Spear of Telesto outstretched.
"No harm shall come to my brother, and if any of you so much take a step towards him I shall cut you down without so much as a thought," said Sanguinius with a voice that made both the Great Unclean one and the Keeper of Secrets hesitate in their movement.
An'ggrath was not so passive. He roared and charged forward to clash with the Great Angel, their blades connecting as Sanguinius fought to keep the Daemon of Khorne at arms length. An'ggrath was strong, stronger even than his other kin like Ka'Bandha, but the Great Angel was driven with a fury and determination that even the greatest of Khorne's champions struggled to content with.
"If you couldn't defeat me An'ggrath, you have no hope of stopping my brother!" called Lorgar, keeping a watchfully eye on the other servants of Chaos, "I suggest we all let Magnus take what he needs. The Fifth has been prophesized and I will not let even the servants of the Four stand in the way of what is to come! I am the Herald of the Fifth, the Devotee, and if it is the Gods will to bring about a new era of Five then none shall be allowed to prevent its coming! Not even the Four of you."
"The Fifth shall be. None here can stop it now…" murmured the 2 heads of the Fateweaver. Zarakynel took a step forward, then stopped realizing it stood alone. Scabeiathrax simply watched with an almost melancholic grin on its face. Sanguinius continued to test and jab at An'ggrath, seeking a way to strike through the defenses at the beast.
He found it. With a roar and blast of force, Sanguinius stabbed An'ggrath deep in the torso. The Bloodthirster let out a howl of rage as the Spear of Telesto stabbed a beam of etheric energy through his body. Collapsing for a moment An'ggrath prepared to rise again, but Sanguinius was light on his feet. He circled the beast from behind, lunged forward and ripped the massive wings from the back of An'ggrath, kicking the Daemon forward onto its belly. Another guttural yell came from the servant of Khorne as its wings collapsed to the ground, black blood oozing from where Sanguinius had ripped them away.
"Stay down, An'ggrath," shouted Lorgar, "Take that injury as the most you will suffer from the Great Angel. Push any further and Khorne will need to find a new favoured Champion from his servants!"
An'ggrath continued to howl with rage and pain, but he did not rise. Even the most brutish of Khorne's Daemons knew when he was bested, and to die here would mean to be forever dispelled. An'ggrath knew to regain the favour of Khorne he would need to seek out other foes and champion his God's will, winning new glory through blood and skulls, and dying here would accomplish nothing than compound his dishonour.
Sanguinius looked over to Magnus, his remaining eye glowing a golden yellow. The Crimson King spoke words and drew symbols in languages long dead, languages not yet created, and some that have never existed at all. Winds of the Warp circled around Magnus, and the sound of a great storm echoed around the Crimson King, almost deafening him and his fellow Primarchs. As his ritual reached a crescendo, Magnus turned to Lorgar and called his brother.
"Lorgar! I need a rune! A symbol for each of the Primordial Essences!"
Lorgar paged through his tome until he found the appropriate page, lifting it up so Magnus could see. One the page, along with a considerable amount of Lorgar's floral script, were 4 symbols, one for each of the Chaos Gods, with a central symbol which represented the Four Undivided.
"Here!" yelled Lorgar, "This symbol also binds the Four into One!"
"I already know that one, but thank you!" called back Magnus as he raised his ritual blade. Stabbing deep into his arm, Magnus cut and shaped the symbols as shown on Lorgar's page. With a final flourish, Magnus completed his work with the last symbol, the icon of the Undivided. Suddenly everything went still. Where there had be noise and motion before, now everything was silent and calm.
And then, Magnus opened his eye. Blinking for a moment, a pair of golden blazing spheres shone from the face of the Crimson King. He reached up to touch where moments before, nothing but a blankness had been. But now, his eye which had been lost so many years before had returned, and with it brought a change upon the Crimson King who let out a loud and long laugh.
"I AM THE CYCLOPTIAN KING NO LONGER!" laughed Magnus with a yell, "I CAN FEEL IT! THE POWER! THE MAJIKS! THE RAW ENERGY OF THE PRIMORDIAL ESSENCES! I AM THE MOST POWERFUL SORCERER THAT HAS EVER LIVED! I AM MORE POWERFUL EVEN THAN OUR FATHER HIMSELF!"
Magnus turned a baleful gaze upon the servants of the Four, the figure of the Fifth seeming to have vanished in the ether during the ritual. The Great Daemons all but cowered in terror as the Crimson King raised his left hand.
"Oh, I can sense you now, so called 'Servants of the Gods'" crowed Magnus, "You thought I would have to supplicate myself to the sources of your power! But I am MAGNUS THE RED! THE KING IN CRIMSON! And I do not bow before mere warp fancies. I CONTROL the power! It does NOT control me! As you would have had me a puppet of the instinctual domains of the Primordial Essences, now you shall be puppets of MINE!"
Suddenly, all Four Daemons stood bolt upright, their hands rigid by their sides. Magnus waggled his fingers like a puppeteer from centuries past with a twisted grin on his face. In unison the Four Daemons perform a very crude dance, their arms flailing wildly as their legs kicked out uncontrollably beneath them. Magnus laughed wildly as the Daemons before even more ridiculous stunts, many of them screaming out in pain or despair as they found themselves unable to fight the Crimson King's influence.
Lorgar clapped his hands in time with the chaotic rhythm of the jerking motions of the Daemons, joy spread across his features. Magnus stopped his laughing and turned his gaze to Lorgar, whose clapping suddenly slowed.
"Oh yes… Lorgar," hissed Magnus, "I see everything now. I see all of your manipulations and your webs. You are devout indeed, to the Primordial Essences. But the Crimson King is no puppet, even to you and your twisted schemes. Perhaps it is time YOU had a taste of what it is like to dance to another's tune!"
Turning his hand, Magnus' control shifted from the Daemon to Lorgar, who now began the jerky motions he was cheering for just moments ago. Sanguinius moved forward and place a hand on Magnus' arm.
"Enough, Magnus. I do not care about your disagreements with Lorgar. My brothers shall not fight each other whilst I am here. Let him go."
Magnus turned to look at Sanguinius, pausing for a moment as if deciding whether to turn his new powers onto the Great Angel himself. But after a second of deliberation he lowered his hand and Lorgar gasped as he regained control of his own body.
"As you command, Warmaster," said Magnus, bowing his head in an action which could either have been reverent or mocking.
"Do you have the power we need?" asked Sanguinius, staring into the now pair of glowing yellow eyes, "Can we make our Primordial Essence and revive Horus?"
"We do," nodded Magnus, "I have more than enough to do everything we desire. And as you can see from my eyes, I have already healed myself. Reviving Horus will be child's play in time. Once we stand on Terra with the remains of our brother, we shall perform the rite to restore his spirit to his body, and our brother Horus shall walk amongst us once more."
"Good," said Sanguinius, "Then let us be gone from this place. I wish not to spend any more time here than is necessary."
"Yes…" muttered Lorgar, looking over both Sanguinius and Magnus, "There is much to be considered here. And we must plan for our… Crusade Vitae."
"Quite so!" boomed Magnus, "Come then my brothers. Let us return to Prospero. We should summon our Legions to prepare for the march on Terra. I possess the knowledge to build the Gate we require, and I already have all the tools I need to break into our Father's warp project. Soon everything will be as we desire."
The trio of Primarchs left the battered and confused Great Daemons behind them, the quartet slinking back to their Deities' realms to lick their wounds and recover. The Fateweaver at least was smiling from both heads. An'ggrath continued to grunt and growl as he departed without the wings the Great Angel had left torn from his back on the ground where they fell.
As Magnus and Lorgar stepped back through the Gate to return to Molech, Sanguinius sigh and let out a whisper before continuing further.
"Soon, my brother. I will see you soon. Wait for me, on Terra."
