Only pain was eternal.
Konrad Curze thought, his fingers dancing over the cold iron table.
The uneven edges Vulkan had pinched out earlier turned his actions into a monotonous game capable of tapping out notes. The Night Haunter smiled carelessly, letting those dull sounds irritate Corvus Corax, who sat beside him.
The latter's face was hidden in shadow, but his gaze was thoroughly unfriendly. After a long while, he leaned forward a little. He also stretched out a hand, as if to compete with Konrad Curze, and actually began tapping the edge of the table as well.
Leman Russ burst out laughing and joined them. The three of them knocked the iron table into a clanging racket, the noisy, chaotic sounds making Fulgrim lift his head from his book in speechless annoyance. He gave Sanguinius a look, signaling for him to do something about it, but the Archangel merely shrugged, indicating he was powerless.
He turned to Jaghatai. The Khan raised his head, arched a brow slightly, and made a helpless expression. The Chemosian sighed, intending to stand up and stop them himself, but Vulkan beat him to it.
"Stop for a moment, brothers. Roboute's tone over the comms did not sound relaxed. We should maintain some solemnity while we wait for him to arrive."
"You have a point, Vulkan."
Leman Russ winked at him and was the first to stop. The Lord of the Fire Drakes smiled at him in satisfaction, only for Russ to start striking the tabletop again in the very next second—with an even wilder flourish.
He laughed heartily. "But don't you think this is fun?"
"No. I'm starting to think this isn't fun at all."
Konrad Curze withdrew his hand, and when Corax saw that, he gave a cold snort and stopped as well. Only