Once bitten, twice shy. Hogg was no longer the silly dog who had fallen into the Green Grasslands with Magnus. He had made thorough preparations.
Since they were traveling to a relatively recent era, the journey was surprisingly quick. Before Hogg and Lorgar could finish their third game of cards, the time-space turbulence spat out their shuttle pod.
Bang!
Thanks to the Imperium's downright fantastical materials science, the pod plummeted from the sky and smashed through the rocks, also killing a few unlucky small animals.
An unsettling change began to take place. Lorgar felt as though he'd spent a whole day being tossed around inside a blender, then flushed down a toilet and swept into the sewers. It was an indescribably strange experience.
But before Lorgar could recover, he suddenly realized his big brother had disappeared. In his place stood a gigantic dog.
"What are you looking at? Didn't I tell you before? Smugglers like us get twisted into other forms. Otherwise, how do you think Guilliman got the nickname 'the cat-fucking brat'?"
"But, big brother, why are you a dog? And such a huge one?"
"Huge?" Hogg glanced at Lorgar, who was a head shorter than him, then gestured for him to look to the side.
"I didn't get bigger. You got smaller. You're a weasel now, okay? No wonder you're all golden. Guess the nickname 'Little Emperor' really suits you."
Lorgar had no idea what a weasel was. As a Primarch born in the 30th millennium, he had received the Emperor's basic survival package, but weasels had gone extinct long before humanity left its home planet. No one knew what those strange creatures had looked like.
Feeling his peculiar new shape, Lorgar found a mirror and used its reflection to see what he looked like.
"Why do I