Rambo was jolted awake by a commotion. Still bleary-eyed, the dog-man climbed down from his eight-meter-wide bed and headed for the door.
"Shadow Guard? What the hell is that? What kind of idiot would give themselves a name like that? Who is it? Quit yelling, for fuck's sake! I'm a dog-man, not a guard dog."
"Bang!"
Before Rambo could finish, he saw his front door blasted open from outside. An 82-millimeter hypermolecular armor-piercing shell grazed his forehead and flew past. Amid the stench of singed fur, five hulking brutes charged into his room, followed by a line of Adeptus Custodes so dazzling they practically blinded him.
"What are you doing? This is my home! I haven't embezzled anything. I even treated you to a meal back in the day!"
Rambo's protests were ignored. A huge hand descended from above, grabbed him by the scalp, and yanked him off the ground.
"Tell us. Where's the merchandise? Where did you put it?"
"Ah, what merchandise? Didn't I deliver it the day before yesterday? Emperor, please hear me out! This is just a small business. I don't steal, and I don't rob anyone. I only sell risqué pictures! I'm loyal, you have to believe me!"
Who asked you about that? What the hell would I want those pictures for? If I wanted dirty drawings, couldn't I draw them myself? Seeing that the dog still wouldn't cooperate, Hogg held out his hand and rubbed Rambo's head back and forth so fast it was impossible to follow with the naked eye, giving the dog—whose scalp had been singed by the shell—a good old-fashioned physical polish.
"I'm talking about Guilliman. Where did you put Guilliman's body?"
"Emperor, what are you talking about? I don't have Guilliman here. I thought he was dead!"
"Bullshit. I clearly told