An Early Prophecy

"Nothing is wrong." Tigurius spoke firmly to Calgar, giving the latter even greater hope.

There were not merely a few people in the great hall. As Rogal Dorn carried the container ever closer to the throne, the Ultramarines stood behind them as well.

It was both the eager expectation of sons toward their father and a precaution against Rogal Dorn and the others.

The ritual to revive Roboute Guilliman was far simpler than Calgar had imagined. Rogal Dorn merely opened the sacred coffin, then stood facing the Ultramarines with both hands braced against his chainsword.

It looked more like a wary gesture born of distrust.

Rogal Dorn's actions gave Calgar some troubling thoughts. Just as he was about to speak and question him, he saw two more giants climb out of the sacred coffin.

Moreover, the Aeldari witch named Yvraine had somehow appeared around Guilliman's throne.

Because the ritual required to summon Slaanesh, Fulgrim was not wrapped up as tightly as Rogal Dorn. He needed to expose his skin to the air and carve runes into it with a Chaos dagger.

Even few of Slaanesh's Greater Daemons knew this forbidden rune. It was a gift Slaanesh had bestowed upon Fulgrim when he had been especially favored by her.

Fulgrim glanced back at Calgar and the Ultramarines, his eyes filled with apology and resolve.

Everything that had happened so suddenly left Calgar stunned, but when he saw Fulgrim's face clearly, the hope he had held was replaced by despair.

To them, the emotion in Fulgrim's eyes was mockery of their ignorance.

Why had I been so careless? Calgar questioned himself.

He did not know that the reason he had trusted Rogal Dorn so readily was the Primarch's innate charisma. He only felt that all his actions had been the result of