Magnus The Red

He was curious, as he moved down towards the laboratory where one of the brothers he had not yet met made his lair. And indeed, as he walked down the paths, it was right to call it a lair, even as things seemed to be... different. It seemed that at once that the warp was further away, and yet something, something eerie was close enough to almost overlap reality. The air was cool, and the air was heavy with mist, and yet given how this was a part of the palace, there was no way that Father was unaware of whatever.

But all of this merely added to the excitement, due to the simple fact that Mortarion was, based on all the reports, another psyker! And not merely a dabbler or reluctant student of minor mysteries, but a one that had fully accepted and embraced the esoteric powers that were their birthright and then strove to master them! He was vibrating in excitement, even as Atalanta grunted, her eyes darting around the edges of the tunnel. "Something about this fog brother... I do not trust it."

Now, that did make him pause, as he looked at his sister, eye narrowing, as more esoteric senses reached out into the fog... the fog that seemed to be existent both in the physical and mental worlds, a shroud that served to muffle the senses. "I think sister, that this is our brothers work. Wards meant to deter casual interest and ensure privacy." He was mulling that over, even as he did not see anything that could be used to draw attention... and Mortarion was nearly impossible to sense inside of the mists. "I'll just let him..."

There was a cough, an asartes nearby suddenly appearing as if he was always there. "Honored Primarchs. My lord has sent me to show you through the mists." Now, he was NOT startled, even as hands moved for weapons, or to manifest power, the unnamed man bowing. "If you would follow me?"

To have something able to hide someone from him when they were that close... that was interesting. Still, Atalanta merely sighed in that put on manner of hers, following his lead as they walked. It did not take them long to come to the door... even if something suggested that something odd had happened, but not with the usual warpcraft that he was familiar with. The hinges creaked, the door opening on their own (and yet, there was no sign of technology or sorcery used!) to reveal what seemed to be a mixture of chem-lab and sculptors chamber.

And there, surrounded by some of his sons, was their brother, even as they stood around a large statue made of wicker, bone and trinkets woven through the wood, the sharp tang of chemicals in the air as they seemed to be listening to a lecture... one given in a strange language that he did not recognize, and one that seemed to fit the atmosphere, something dark and resonant, hollow so that the words could echo in themselves.

And then the figure, small enough that one could mistake him for merely being a tall mortal nodded and the transhuman giants that had been arranged around him in a half circle bowed and moved away. Something, as Magnus looked at his little brother made him wonder... he was so small yes, and yet perhaps that was just physically. Could the reason he not sense Mortarion in the mists the fact that he WAS the mists? Something of his thoughts may have been out of his head as Mortarion smiled. "Brother. Sister."

The fact that he seamlessly used the proper addresses for a senior sibling in Prosperian and Olympian respectively, as if he was a native speaker was interesting. "You just missed my Revenant Construct lecture. If you had wished to attend, it would be best if you called ahead."

Ah, even in a calm and neutral tone, that made their sister bristle. "Oh, and why should THAT be little brother."

It was a demand, not a question... and even as she made sure to have ignorant or foolish unspoken but plainly heard, an eyebrow raised on their brothers pale face... and as he marveled at the fact he might have to play peacemaker. "Because from what I have heard, you are the most scholastically inclined of my siblings and if I knew you were coming I could make the preparations for you to participate, including a prepared workstation for the practical components and study aids."

Wait. "Now Atalanta, that does make sense." His eye looked over the lab... and noted how it seemed that many of the pieces seemed to be designed to divided into various workstations, as if, as his lips curled into a smile. "After all, it seems our brother considers himself a teacher. And given how we just missed a class on Revenant Constructs, well, one would ask..."

He paused, as Mortarion pointed to a vox station on the side of the room. "These labs are connected to the palaces vox network and data terminals. You can simply send me a message and I can send you the relevant files and data for the curriculum, subject to change based on the needs of the campaigns." And then the little shit proved he was EVIL. "However, entering my personal library without permission will summon Leman Rus." There was a pause as they looked at him. "Without his permission. It will be sure to leave him irate."

There is a pause, and then Atlanta speaks, her tone curious. "Why, exactly, do you have that as a precaution?"

Their brother reaches into his shadow, and pulls out one of Magnus's Sons. "I captured him for the third time trying to 'acquire a gift from our library to mark a joyous occasion.'" The tone is flat as Magnus stares at his son, squirming in the grip of a primarch smaller than he was. "I was planning on returning him after the lecture. However, while I do wish to view this the actions of an overeager son..." Mortarion paused. "My current security measures will hopefully not need to be tested."

And then Mortarion sighed. "And honestly? I am hoping to get along, as you are the only other one that has personally developed their arcane methodology and I wanted to talk shop."

Lion El'Jonson

His hand was not shaking as he looked at the Fourteenth shed of his mask of civilization, of sanity. Their father, the Emperor, had commanded that they unleash the full might of the Death Guard. He wanted to laugh and cry in exultation, for of all his brothers, it was the one that seemed the most human, the weakest and least impressive, that was in a place to understand. Yo know what it was like. And yet, that very same brother was not simply the greatest beast of his world, but was Death, drawn from the dreams and nightmares of humanity, from the primal darkness that all living creatures shared.

It had been a simple thing in part, as he had sent the message to The Emperor, to open the gates. Because they all knew of his reputation, of the Necromancer, the healer and sorcerer, he who could command the dead. Most, himself included, had no idea of the sheer scale at which their brother could operate at if he so chose, at the fact that he had restrained himself so. Not until he had left the ship, still in orbit, scythe in hand, his sons around him, marching in formation into the void itself, uncaring of the sheer insanity of it all. Not until the mists rose across the entire system and the bells tolled.

Not as the gates opened, and the dead marched. The spirits of the broken ships, the fallen soldiers, the titans and knights... all of them and the dead legionaries, all of them came from those black gates. The winds had risen, a terrible shrieking gale of inevitable time, of entropy and extinction as the dead fell on the Rangda and Slaugth. The physical was worn away, flayed away in those astral winds as his brother flew, wings of fog and shadow billowing around him as he reaped worlds in mere days.

Not a single living thing remained. Not even the thought of life or hunger or anything so simple as mortality. In those moments, as he watched the cold and impassive face of his brother, as there was no stirring of emotion, no sign of effort or exhaustion... all of his instincts, all of his calculus, all of them acknowledged one thing, as he witnessed a Death Guard literally be torn apart, only for their very flesh to knit itself back together, the fog holding him in a tight grip.

There was no point in fighting Mortarion. No chance of victory, when Death itself proclaimed judgement more final and terrible. A part of him wondered why he felt the need to unleash such might against them. Or perhaps, as the dead rose and tore their way out of the larders, perhaps the dead gave their tales and counsel, and he decided to loose the shackles and fight as he truly could for once.

Aftermath of The Second Rangdan Xenocide

The Second Rangdan Xenocide was one of the bloodiest and most brutal conflicts of the Great Crusade, until the arrival of the Death Guard. While it is true that the Dark Angels and their primarch, Lion El'Jonson were in nominal overall command and had been waging it for longer (and as was often the case, the Death Guard deferred the bulk of the glory to their cousins), this marks one of the few occasions were the full mystical might of the Death Guard was unleashed and the Imperium had a glimpse at the unleashed might of a psychically gifted primarch.

There are few details, save for scattered and often contradictory reports. All that can be agreed on is that Mortarion sought permission from the Emperor to 'open the Gates' before much of the Galactic North-West, with worlds scoured of even psychic impressions of life in their wake and dying stars hurled across the dark as spears. Imperial casualties were light, as any deployed Death Guard could return someone from near death to fighting form in mere minutes, and where the shadow of Mortarion fell, even the dead soon rose with new life to continue the fight.

Some detractors of course point to the likely massive use of Exterminatus weapons deployed liberally, the true threat deliberately suppressed to the Imperium. However, all can agree that in the wake of this campaign, many eyes shifted from the Thousand Sons and onto the Death Guard, as examples of reckless and terrible psychic abilities that could damn humanity if left unrestrained.