Interlude: Take Off! Mortarion!

Interlude: Fly! Mortarion!

(Timeline in disorder, set later, perhaps never to appear in official history)

(Protagonist freaking out warning, extremely OOC)

What are they doing?

Sanguinius said, sitting on the balcony of the Imperial Palace with his gray wings folded behind him.

The primarch looked down at the open space below the balcony and saw a bizarrely dressed giant holding a large bug-net sprinting frantically.

"--Old Morty! Old Morty!!!"

A distant shout reached the primarch's ears.

It looked like Mortarion was in for a rough time today.

A smile was hard to hide at the corners of Angron's mouth across from the Archangel. I think he won't escape a manned flight today.

Angron noticed Sanguinius's wings twitch slightly, and the Lord of the Red Sands immediately added the next sentence.

No need to worry, Angel... he only pesters those he knows well enough.

The corners of Sanguinius's mouth twitched.

I take back my thought that I hadn't thanked him properly and was ready to fraternize with the dead.

Angron burst into a hearty laugh again, wrinkles winding like mountain paths, his face long since covered in creases.

Just watch, Angron said, at least I didn't expect--haha, Guilliman is here too?

As if echoing his words, Hades's shout came from the distant garden.

"Emperor!!! Where is the big moth?!!!"

The two primarchs sitting on the balcony sipping tea shifted their gaze and saw Roboute Guilliman holding a sword standing in the middle of the garden fountain. Vines coiled around Guilliman's sword, and a glimmer of psychic power shone upon it.

Southeast, Guilliman said, responding to Hades's words,... he is behind that hedge.

"All right!"

Hades shouted cheerfully, lunging over with his custom psychic disruptor, woven with black stone threads and tuned to just the right anti-psychic density—confusing without brain damage, and