Mortarion tried to rise from the ground, but the chains Lorgar had created with his incantation bound him tightly. He would not be breaking free anytime soon.
"Wait! You can't! You fucking can't!"
Mortarion's furious roar had no effect. Magnus, Fulgrim, and Lorgar sang in unison, fulfilling Nurgle's sacred number of three.
The Primarchs' power of summons was indeed astounding. Even without corrupt matter to support it, they tore open an enormous Warp rift.
Yet no Nurgle daemons poured from the rift—only foul, stinking, putrid sludge.
Other kinds of daemons leaped from the breach. Leman Russ drew his axe and stepped forward, slaughtering them all to keep them from interfering with the ascension ritual.
Mortarion roared as the psychic power of his three brothers held him down, like a torn bun being used to soak up the last of the soup on a plate.
Pfft, pfft, pfft...
More and more filth clung to Mortarion's body, and before long, the Primarch's form could no longer be seen.
As time passed, the soft, loose corruption gradually dried and hardened, wrapping Mortarion inside like an eggshell.
"Good. There shouldn't be any problems now." Magnus wiped the sweat from his brow. Mortarion had struggled fiercely. Without three Primarchs exerting their power together, he truly would have had trouble making Mortarion submit.
"Are you sure Mortarion won't turn on us after ascending? He looked furious just now. He reminded me of Angron."
"Speaking of which, Angron didn't come. Where are the World Eaters? Don't tell me they're all dead?"
Leman Russ shook his head, knowing nothing about Magnus's question. Perhaps only The Emperor and the Subjective One knew where the World Eaters had gone.
As the brothers spoke, the eggshell forged from corruption cracked open.
The first thing to emerge was an indescribable stench. Magnus