Sanguinius responded fiercely to the warning the High Judiciar had delivered in the Silent King's name.
His words were so fierce that Dante felt somewhat worried. He had witnessed the power of that damned xenos species and knew how unfathomable they were. He also knew that he and the Primarch were not facing the traveler who had once helped during the Battle of Baal, but an incarnation of the Silent King of the Necrons.
But worry was an instinct carbon-based lifeforms could hardly avoid. Dante did not truly think that he and his gene-father would have to carve a bloody path out in the end.
Because when he had met the Necrons before, Dante had vaguely heard of the alliance his gene-father had forged with this xenos species.
What exactly that alliance entailed remained unknown for now.
"The Silent King reminded you out of goodwill," the High Judiciar said.
Silent King Szarekh showed no reaction at all. He reclined against the armrest of his Throne, looking down imperiously at Sanguinius and Dante without the slightest concern.
"Even if you are enemies, we will not retract the aid we have offered simply because words fail to find common ground." The High Judiciar looked up at the towering Sanguinius, its digital eyes simulating contempt. "This is called civilization. This is called etiquette. This is the conduct and tolerance of an ancient civilization born tens of millions of years ago."
Sanguinius said nothing.
Dante did not even look at the High Judiciar, but inwardly, he had cursed everyone present from head to toe.
He felt that whether they were the Necrons, descendants of the Necrophages, or those Eldar, they were all a pack of insufferably arrogant bastards.
If he had to speak with a Necron, Dante would rather speak to Trazyn the Infinite.