"We should divide our remaining brothers evenly among seven planets, then drag them out of their tanks at seven in the morning in the Real Universe, because seven in the morning represents rebirth, a new beginning."
Mortarion's suggestion made Perturabo frown deeply.
He challenged Mortarion. "Is your seven because your damn numerology told you that seven is genuinely useful, or because you simply like seven, just like how you always tried to tie everything you did during the Great Crusade to seven?"
At that, Mortarion lowered his gaze to the floor, then raised it to Perturabo's face. "I... calculated it."
Perturabo clenched his fist.
Mortarion rose from the machine Perturabo had built, warily watching his twisted brother.
But Perturabo relaxed his fist and suddenly said, "Perhaps we can try it."
"You understand me?" Mortarion asked tentatively.
Perturabo shook his head. "Perhaps numerology really is somewhat useful. If all it did was make you look foolish, you would not be so obsessed with it."
Mortarion's feelings were complicated. He did not know whether he should thank Perturabo for his support or punch him.
"Don't listen to Mortarion."
"His suggestion might indeed wake the other Primarchs immediately. This is the Eye of Terror, after all. Strange things happen here every moment."
"But other than getting some god a dozen or so Clone Plague Pigs, it would be useless."
Qin Mo spoke as he walked past Mortarion.
He knew perfectly well what Mortarion's favorite number, seven, represented.
It represented Nurgle. It represented Nurgle's Greater Demons.
The seven people on the Hospital World of Iax during the Plague War, who had nearly caused Iax to fall, were proof enough.
"Stop trying to force everything into seven."
"I don't know what seven represents in your eyes, but in this universe, it represents evil, disgusting, filthy