A burial mound made of ruins and rubble was not pretty, but it was the last thing the people who had survived the Scourges could do for the dead.
When Leman Russ set up a stone carved with the words, "There is a source of infection inside. Please take protective measures," so more people could see it, the grief-stricken civilians turned even paler before staggering away in a daze.
Some people also wanted to come up and argue with the two of them, but the brothers' armor was simply too exaggerated and magnificent. Calling them gods descended upon the world would not have been an overstatement. The moment people came a few steps closer, they were intimidated by that Primarch-level presence and could only grit their teeth and walk away.
Magnus extended his psychic power into the ruins, touching the Originium crystallized from the corpses. He even broke off a piece, wrapped it in psychic energy, and placed it in his hand.
"What are you planning to do? Absorb it?" Leman Russ asked Magnus. "Don't sell your soul to some strange thing out of curiosity, like Fulgrim did with that Laer Blade he found during the Great Crusade."
Magnus waved a hand, his tone brimming with confidence. "It's fine, my brother. The power contained in this Originium is far too weak. To me, it is like a mosquito bite."
"I hope the mosquitoes in your mouth aren't from Catachan."
Magnus was speechless at Leman Russ's loose tongue. He then crushed the small piece of Originium in his hand, and a thread of energy distinct from psychic power slowly seeped into his body.
If Magnus had not been so exceptionally gifted in psychic power, he truly might not have sensed this faint energy.
Sure enough, just as Magnus had judged, Originium