Hathor Made Off with More Than Half the Thousand Sons Fleet, Including a Gloriana-class Battleship

Ultima Segmentum, Prospero.

At the Pyramid of Photep in Tizca, Magnus walked toward the balcony.

He leaned against the balcony railing, supporting himself on his elbows as the cool sea breeze stirred his hair.

He looked down at the five perfect circular mounds distributed across the rolling park according to the golden ratio. As usual, the soldiers and civilians of Tizca practiced Tai Chi in endless cycles, calming their hearts.

They knew nothing of the misfortune about to befall them.

The entire City of Light was about to be destroyed because of the sins he had committed.

Magnus's gaze swept across the Pyramids of the various schools. Flames seemed to dance within the polarized crystal panes.

He had seen such visions while roaming the Great Ocean. Now, he understood the future they foretold.

"Everything shall return to dust."

Magnus's sorrowful voice echoed, and a voice sounded behind him.

"Not necessarily."

Magnus turned and saw a shadow with a gleaming single eye upon the bronze mirror.

The shadow changed every moment—angry, mocking, arrogant, fickle.

Yet all those eyes watched him at once with sly smiles.

"Was destroying me the purpose of your bargain with me?"

"Destruction? Never!" the shadow cried loudly.

"Magnus, you have always been my first choice!"

"First choice for what?" Magnus asked.

"You will bring about the eternal Chaos of destruction and rebirth, an endless cycle of creation and annihilation, repeating without beginning or end."

"You have always been the first choice. Horus is merely a second-rate candidate."

"There are many such candidates. Nimrod is one of them as well."

Magnus shook his head. "Nimrod will not make the same Error I did."

"I was—too—confident."

"Indeed. By the time I transformed your soul, you had already become too powerful, forcing me to choose another target." The shadow smiled