Evil Must Be Tempered by Evil

"Idiot."

Malcador spoke as he stood upon the observatory platform. In the distance, the shoreline where the Sea of Chaos met the physical world spread outward, erupting into a vast, brilliant sea of light that illuminated the old man's front.

Behind The Emperor stood countless silent mortals wreathed in golden flames. Looking closely, one could spot quite a few generals and governors who had once been renowned throughout the Imperium.

They stood in silence as hazy golden light flared around them.

A set of unsteady, sparse footsteps sounded.

Hiss—

Konrad tilted his head and scratched his ear with his little finger.

You never told me being your dog came with this sort of treatment.

Malcador turned his head and saw the Primarch in an utterly wretched state. Blood and chunks of flesh had soaked nearly every inch of his clothing, while remnants of either vomit or excrement ran through his long hair.

Konrad spread his arms, revealing the hole that had pierced through his chest. Strings of pearl chains caked in blood hung down, looking instead like shackles restraining the Primarch.

This is entirely your responsibility, my master.

Curze said in an exceedingly flippant tone. Malcador said nothing, snapped his fingers with a dark expression.

Crackle!

The excessive jewelry on Konrad's body fell to the ground one after another, splashing blood across the floor.

"You should be grateful you are still alive, Konrad."

Alive?

Konrad exaggeratedly stretched his limbs, his mouth splitting into an absurd grin.

I am not stupid—you should have seen the Slaanesh filling all of Commorragh. It was my first time seeing a god so utterly mad. Dying in Commorragh would not have been a good choice. Our Lady of Lust is hungry.

"Then where is Lion?"

Malcador's eyes gleamed, while Konrad merely shrugged indifferently.

Since you