Some souls left indelible marks.
He Shenyan knew that well, so when Rogal Dorn showed his face at the far end of the galaxy, he merely glanced over casually.
Some people said Rogal Dorn was dead, that he had died in a boarding action, drowned beneath a swarming horde of World Eaters, leaving only a severed hand behind. Setting aside how exactly the Imperial Fists had managed to snatch that hand back, honestly—did you believe it? Anyone who did definitely had no idea what Rogal Dorn had done.
He had killed Alpharius—another Primarch, one of his brothers. And he had done it by taking a Chainsword and sawing him apart alive.
During the Siege of Terra, he had sent Kharn—yes, that Kharn the Betrayer, Khorne's chosen—who had nearly killed Sigismund, flying with a single slap. Truly, just one slap.
He had also gravely wounded Fulgrim, and though the latter had been in human form at the time, they had been fighting a sword duel. Fulgrim was one of the finest swordsmen among all the Primarchs, and sometimes that "one of" could even be removed.
Even if it were Roboute Guilliman, he could not possibly have been drowned by a crowd of World Eaters relying on sheer numbers.
At that thought, the Mage smiled. Considering Rogal Dorn's famous personality, he felt that this Adeptus Custodes had very likely been unable to endure the Imperium's current state and had therefore made up his mind to simply pack up and run. If he had stayed any longer, he would have gone mad sooner or later. He had probably foreseen that.
When Guilliman woke after sleeping for ten thousand years, he had nearly fallen into despair. If Dorn had spent those ten thousand years awake, he might have been even more despairing. His personality