"Damn, I finally made it..."
Only after seeing for himself that Curze was unharmed at the bottom of the mine, and especially that the Aeldari thrusting sword had not yet pierced him, did the weight in Lorgar's heart finally drop away. He could not help breathing a long sigh of relief inwardly.
The whole affair had been utterly absurd.
A few days earlier, he had been sitting perfectly comfortably aboard his homeward-bound Battle Barge, planning the next objectives of the Great Crusade. Then, for some inexplicable reason, the Warp passage had taken a sudden sharp turn and jolted without warning, flinging him and his ship clean off their intended Shipping Routes.
When the warship staggered out of the Warp and established its position again, the Navigator reported in utter bewilderment that they were now in some godforsaken corner of the Ultima Segmentum.
Lorgar's feelings at the time could only have been described by a string of ellipses.
Just as he was rubbing his temples and considering how to get back on course as quickly as possible, his keen psychic senses suddenly caught an extremely faint, distinctive presence that resonated with his own psychic energy, like a firefly in the night.
That power came from a distant planet shrouded in dark clouds, one that looked like bad news from every angle.
Without hesitation, he immediately extended his psychic tendrils to investigate further.
Well, that investigation had certainly been an eye-opener. A comparison with the records revealed that this sinister planet was none other than Nostramo, the infamous criminal world listed in the archives—and the suspected location of one of his missing brothers.
After confirming the coordinates, Lorgar actually became less impatient. This was precisely the sort of situation where he could not afford to act rashly.
He ordered the warship to