In the Underground Palace, as Dorn's soul departed, fireworks ignited on the island of Chaos shrouded in the gray-black veil.
The Primarch's flesh had long since died, and now his soul had shed all its original sin and chosen reincarnation. As Dorn's soul cast one last lingering look back at the mortal world, brilliant golden fireworks filled the sky.
Dorn's stone statue, which had endured twelve millennia, stood there. Beneath that affectionate gaze lay echoes of himself at forty, when he became the chieftain of Inwit: 732 battles for unification, fifteen years as chieftain, 146 monuments forged by his own hands, an extraordinary leader descended from the heavens, the Phalanx activated in planetary orbit, and Chieftain Dorn's final battle, his final kiss.
As time's Astral Express slowly passed through the crystal sphere, Dorn, who had held fast for ten millennia, remained there. His golden soul looked back, faintly revealing the face he had worn at eighty. When the fireworks rose, the age of the Great Crusade that had belonged to the Emperor and the Primarchs would not fade with the years. Instead, it would be remembered again and again as those years drifted away.
When the years of ruin arrived, the Primarch turned to stone remained there. His affectionate gaze sought to return to the beginning, recalling that battle between brothers in the eternal prison, the almost annihilated Legion, the Primarch kneeling on one knee, the unforgettable defeat, and the scarring ordeal of carrying the Emperor onto the Golden Throne himself.
Now, everything was drawing to a close.
After witnessing the Primarch's reincarnation firsthand and taking a brief rest, Aaron finally smiled.
Becoming Legendary, perfecting his law, activating Nurgle's power, further escaping the restrictions of the Four Gods-and those of the Emperor as well. The Child of Chaos... no, Aaron