Mortarion...
Upon the throne, Guilliman's fingertips rested on a tiny game piece. In the eyes of the Traitor Primarch, charred black by raging flames, the three lights of Chaos had never gone out.
[Who exactly did you want to meet?]
Guilliman murmured to himself. Countless data cables upon his crown flashed as they continued transmitting orders throughout the Imperium.
[What exactly is your objective...?]
His tone rose slightly, and amusement filled Guilliman's eyes as he recalled the way Mortarion looked at him each time.
He was a wild dog that could never be tamed. No matter whether Guilliman disciplined him with a stick or tempted him with raw meat, no matter how he smoothed every strand of fur and adorned him with Adamantium and silk until he looked almost respectable—
He could never conceal the ambition and madness beneath that polished exterior.
Mortarion... Mortarion...
Guilliman straightened up. It was time to show him what the Traitor Primarch truly desired.
Guilliman sighed softly. Not one of his brothers was capable of bearing great responsibility. Their personalities were too twisted, their goals too extreme—
And none of them had ever treated the entire Imperium as their mission, as he had.
"Fuck, Old Morty, are you okay?"
Hades spoke as he hurriedly scanned Mortarion's soul with the Null Field—
Mortarion's whole face twisted up as though he had eaten shit, but his soul had not truly escaped the Null Field's inspection.
Good... Hades thought. There was no substantial damage, no curse or anything. In fact, the psychological harm caused by the Null Field's loss to Mortarion might have been worse.
"Fine. I'm fine."
Hades withdrew the Null Field. Mortarion visibly let out a breath, while Guilliman beside them also clearly relaxed.
"What did he say to you? You two started arguing within