Feeling his limbs grow back, Magnus smiled in relief. Then, like his brothers, he obediently sat down on a little stool.
"Big bro, I'm behaving now. Let me go!"
In every world, Magnus was unquestionably the most brilliant mind alive. After the desensitization therapy he'd undergone, he had finally accepted one fact: the five of them couldn't beat Hogg. All they could do was get pinned down and beaten.
Looking at the five obedient giants sitting before them, the Filial Sons Alliance, fresh back from the front, couldn't help feeling as though they were ten thousand years ahead of the curve. They especially enjoyed seeing Angron and Mortarion, who were like alternate versions of themselves, grinning foolishly at a stack of photographs as if they were looking at their younger selves.
What you couldn't have in your youth could haunt you for the rest of your life. Fortunately, Angron hadn't become a Nails-ridden meat puppet, and Mortarion hadn't become a stinking First Company captain. Under Hogg's patient guidance, they'd both become capable Ork Boyz.
With sixteen Primarchs gathered together, there was naturally plenty to talk about. But what intrigued the local Primarchs most was Omegon, who sat nearby with an ample figure and was doing her best to keep a low profile.
As for why there were sixteen of them, Guilliman had already gotten a taste of the Titan Training Method. He was currently being hunted for his life across an asteroid by twelve Dog Tanks, under the watchful eye of the dog-headed Custodian Rambo, who'd run away from home.
Rambo had run away because Guilliman had been shameless enough to snitch to Lady Euten, and the other Guilliman had gotten the dog beaten up by Lady Euten.
After joining his Emperor, Rambo had immediately volunteered for the job. He