Elsewhere on Prospero, Curze stood atop a half-collapsed tower, looking down over the burning city below.
His long black hair streamed in the wind, thick with Smoke and ash. His gaze was cold and deep, like an ancient well chilled beneath the moonlight.
He had already decided to send Lorgar back to Colchis immediately, with an escort.
Lorgar's injuries were too severe. Though emergency treatment had stabilized him for the moment, he needed to return to the Word Bearers' homeworld for more comprehensive treatment and recuperation.
More importantly, Colchis was Lorgar's seat of power. His most trusted officers, his most loyal warriors, and the finest medical facilities were all there.
Only there could Lorgar truly be safe.
Hercules, the Word Bearers Legion's Primarch Bodyguard, stood silently beside Lorgar's stretcher, an armored giant several meters tall.
Librarian Royst stood on the other side, holding the Lectitio Divinitatus Lorgar had bestowed upon him. His lips moved slightly as he murmured prayers of protection, and a faint glow of Golden Psychic Energy enveloped Lorgar's body like an invisible shield.
Third Chapter Commander Seras was briefing several officers on the arrangements for the journey ahead.
Nearby stood Khârn, Commander of the War Hounds Legion's 8th Assault Company and adjutant to the Primarch. He held an enormous Chainaxe, his gaze sweeping the surrounding ruins.
In addition, two thousand Space Marines, handpicked veterans from the Word Bearers, War Hounds, and Night Lords, formed the escort.
Under the command of Hercules and Seras, they would escort Lorgar back to Colchis.
Though the force was small, every warrior was worth a hundred ordinary soldiers, more than capable of dealing with most threats they might encounter.
Evans, Lord Commander of the Legion, took command of the remaining troops.
He stood in a cleared patch of ground, surrounded by warriors