145 Mortarion Didn't Approve a Single One

The Indomitable

On the hospital bed, Mortarion, once again wrapped like a mummy in bandages, slowly propped himself up. He calmly watched Karras slit open his gauntlet and pour medicine into it.

Seeing Mortarion awake, Karras's mouth twitched into a smile that was not a smile, counting as a salute.

I think you could be gentler.

"I think you're tough enough."

Karras flatly rejected the primarch's request.

"You nearly died, Lord Mortarion. After some careful thought, I assume your brilliant mind decided it was safe to expose your Psychic Power essence beside the Sea of the Underworld.

"We should all thank the Negative Psychic Ogryn this time. The self-control he displayed far surpassed anything before."

Mortarion calmly lay back down. He decided this was not the right time to explain himself. He could not outargue Calas Typhon; that was simply a fact.

But he could refuse Calas's request to die.

Where was the wraith?

Mortarion stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling the changes in his own power—the authority of the Eldar Death had ultimately fused with part of him.

That was a good thing. It would allow him to move even further from Nurgle's domain.

"Discussing affairs of state with the great Roboute Guilliman."

Karras wore that malicious smile again and watched Mortarion fall briefly silent, until two sets of footsteps interrupted them.

One set was so light it was nearly imperceptible, cautious and steady; the other was disorderly and casual.

Knock, knock~

A familiar, nauseating voice sounded outside the door. Konrad knocked.

The lunatic tortured half-mad by prophecy had come to visit the "brother" who had never believed in prophecy or fate.

Without waiting for permission, Curze poked his head into the ward and wore a strange, delighted smile.

I'm glad. You look awful.

"Konrad."

A faint warning sounded