The Warp. The Impossible Fortress.
Tzeentch, the Lord of Change, watched Alpha with keen interest.
Inger Peck, First Captain of "Alpha," drank Alpharius's blood. "Let me see what happens."
A bird's beak grew from his right leg. "Let me see what happens."
Hundreds of millions of Threads of Fate churned and danced before Fateweaver, revealing image after image of the future.
"Tsk, tsk. The thing Alpharius is relying on isn't in the hands of his sons. His plan is doomed to fail."
A smiling face grew from his left waist. "Tsk, tsk. The thing Alpharius is relying on isn't in the hands of his sons. His plan is doomed to fail."
He gazed as the figures of father and son drew ever closer, their identities exchanging places.
"Interesting, but not enough. This grand play should go on."
His left claw plucked at the Threads of Fate, and a sly smile appeared on his arm. "Interesting, but not enough. This grand play should go on."
"Change—"
A mocking smile grew from his shoulder. "Change—"
Alpha.
A thought suddenly flashed through Chief Librarian Gukur's mind, and he looked at Alpharius.
"Father, why don't I go to the Shadow of the Throne and bring Nimrod back?"
"You don't trust my plan?" The moment Alpharius spoke, the transcendent pressure in his voice immediately set him apart from Peck.
"Our plan will succeed," Gukur said.
"After that thing renders Nimrod unconscious, we won't have much time.
"I can locate Nimrod at once and bring him back."
Alpharius thought of how the chaos caused by the infiltrating Alpha would soon be suppressed by Nimrod's Honor Guard, then nodded.
"Good."
"I'll meet you." Once Nimrod went missing, the Shadow of Order would surely seal off every escape route.
Ensuring a clear retreat route was equally important.
Dorset