The Shadow-pattern Stormbird slowly descended, stirring the corpse ash that blanketed the ground.
Nimrod stepped down from the deck, followed by members of the War Council.
"Zso Sahaal, Zharost, Nuang."
Alpharius stared at Zso Sahaal, recalling the intelligence sent by Alpha, who had infiltrated the Night Lords.
Zso Sahaal was a member of the Night Bat Council and held considerable prestige within the Night Lords, yet he had betrayed Curze.
Cassati Nuang spat and cursed disdainfully. "Traitor!"
Fel Zharost, former Chief Librarian of the Night Lords, looked ahead and saw the Primarch's pale face.
"Father, you still have one final chance. Surrender to Lord Nimrod and beg for the Emperor's forgiveness."
Curze scoffed. "Nimrod, don't tell me you've come to judge me in his name?"
"Our father said nothing. He is hiding in his dungeon, drinking deep of the universe's secrets—the very secrets for which he punished you at Nikaea."
"Magnus and Lorgar have already glimpsed the truth he tried to conceal, while you remain foolishly loyal to him."
Curze lowered his pitch-black eyes and looked at Nimrod with pity.
"Let me tell you the truth!"
"We are all savage weapons. Every Primarch is."
"We are too dangerous. Using us will inevitably come at a cost."
Curze licked his fangs. "Every history written by his empire will see us this way. Even you."
"Nimrod."
Fel watched Curze laugh madly. He was deeply troubled by dark visions.
His black eyes swept over the four figures beside Curze.
The Daemon on the right, its body wreathed in dense shadows, could not be locked onto even with Aetheric Sight.
A softly swaying body, each of its four arms holding a weapon.
A blood-red figure clad in a cloak of skulls and wielding a greatsword.
Omega, holding a spear.
[Two Primarchs, three powerful Daemons.]