Thanks to the fine education Hogg had given them, Curze and Corvus Corax had inherited their big brother's virtues to perfection. They didn't care whether you were loyal or not—even if you were a daemon, once you fell into their hands, they'd squeeze three pounds of oil out of you.
After his fall, Jonson had ascended straight into daemonhood and become a standard Daemon Prince. He'd reached the end of the road in this life, but the Useless Brothers were different.
Their sheer uselessness, enough to make even Tzeentch shudder, had let the two Primarchs retain their Warp Essence while freeloading a huge amount of the Chaos God's divine power. Then, after being cleansed by the Emperor's Psionic Energy, they'd completed a super-evolution all their own.
Without giving Jonson a chance to explain, Curze and Corax transformed on the spot, becoming ten-meter-tall, unleashed versions of themselves. And thanks to Tzeentch having personally developed them back in the day, they drew freely on the Warp energy around them, without a care in the world.
Looking at the two terrifying monsters before him—with enormous wings, and more demonic appearances than actual daemons—Jonson didn't act rashly. After sizing up the strength on both sides and the Legionaries filling the entire plaza, he performed a textbook salute from ancient Terra's French army.
He ordered the Dark Angels to lay down their weapons and adopt a policy of nonresistance. The Dark Angels had been loyal in a roundabout way. They surrendered.
Seeing that their cousin was being cooperative, Corax swung his claws and tore the library doors apart. Then he pointed his sharp lower beak at an empty patch of ground nearby and let out a piercing, ravenlike caw:
"Everyone, get out and gather over there. Don't try anything funny. These seventy-two eyes of mine