"This isn't Roboute Guilliman."
The moment he saw the corpse, Malcador said.
The unmanned vessel had long been drifting through the stars. The old man in white robes stood silently on its deck, beside him lay a massive stasis field pod—a special gift from Trazyn.
In truth, Hades was still asleep, but that did not prevent Malcador from directly throwing the Underking out as a piece of shit to use. The Warp-touched had already mastered the method for activating the unconscious Underking's Null Field: as long as Malcador moved roughly half a sector away from Hades, the unconscious Underworld would immediately descend.
Ha, ha.
After discovering this, Malcador felt no ripples in his heart. He only wanted to laugh a little.
He stood aboard this enemy warship they had already seized. Nearby lay the corpse of a Primarch from another fate line—
Malcador had already heard the entire account from Ferrus. He judged that, at the very least, this Primarch would not revive again. The Underking's devouring would not allow his soul to return to another fate.
Nearby, Fulgrim stood shoulder to shoulder with Ferrus. He appeared to be listening attentively to Malcador, but Malcador knew that apart from the Underking, who was instinctively suppressing the Null Field, no one cared about him.
From time to time, Ferrus would turn his head and cast Fulgrim an expressionless glance. Fulgrim would immediately turn back and smile at Ferrus. They seemed to have much to say, but with Malcador present, they could only look at each other and smile.
Malcador still felt no ripples in his heart. Just moments ago, he had used a massive hand of Psychic Power to drag the two Primarchs back from shaking hands and spinning around in the Warp.
After all, compared to the sheer unbearable