Ferrus Manus opened the door. The double-headed eagle carved into the handle felt no warmth beneath his hand. His movement was clean and sharp, as swift as a sword stroke.
Fulgrim stood before him, his face anxious.
"What happened?" Ferrus asked calmly.
"Where is Konrad?"
The Iron Hands stepped aside, allowing Fulgrim to see Konrad Curze. The latter held a knife, his expression somewhat hesitant. "Fulgrim? What is it?"
"Come quickly, Konrad—Ferrus, you too. Come with me. Rogal has already gone."
Fulgrim hurriedly turned around, his long silver-white hair streaming through the grand corridors of The Emperor's Dream. Tiny glimmers reflected from its lavish golden details, but now no one cared about his beauty.
Not even himself.
Ferrus frowned and turned aside, letting Konrad Curze leave the room before him. The latter nodded to him in thanks before striding out. The Iron Hands swiftly shut the door and caught up with his brothers.
Other than Konrad Curze, the demigods had all become intimately familiar with their father's flagship.
Fulgrim could say without exaggeration that no vessel in the Imperium could compare to The Emperor's Dream. No ship could withstand such a comparison, not even in the smallest of details.
But that was precisely why their journey took such an agonizingly long time. The reason was simple: The Emperor's Dream was too large.
"What exactly happened?"
Ferrus asked in a low voice. "Where did Rogal go? Don't tell me it's Lorgar again?"
"No, no, this has nothing to do with Lorgar—it's Father, Ferrus!"
"What happened to Father?"
Fulgrim turned his head and cast a quick glance at Konrad Curze before speaking softly. "It's the Adeptus Custodes. They went to Nostramo in full battle gear."
The pale giant abruptly stopped.
"Konrad?" Ferrus asked.
But his brother did not respond.
Konrad Curze's eyes