Interlude: This Is an Iron Cage

"Dantioch was right.

"He said you simply did not understand what it meant to be iron within and without. Your ability and talent were completely unworthy of your ambition.

"You demanded that your sons be iron within and without, yet you could not even achieve it yourself.

"You set your sights high but lacked the skill to match them. That was exactly the kind of person you were."

Within a murky, indistinct torrent of warped time and space, Dorn gripped young Perturabo's arm and spoke slowly.

Flickering lights and shadows surrounded them. Certain fragments flashed past, and Dorn understood that they were different timelines.

Though they appeared close, they were actually separated by immense distances. Even he did not know which timeline he would be sent to in the next instant.

Hearing his brother's words strike straight at his heart, the now-awake young Perturabo shut his eyes tightly and endured the humiliation through gritted teeth.

He had never imagined that he would see Dantioch again in this life, this son whom he both loved and hated.

There was absolutely no questioning the abilities of this veteran Warsmith.

The fact that he had remained seated in the dangerous position of Trident, a place as perilous as the mouth of a volcano, was enough to prove that his abilities were beyond reproach.

Yet for all his ability, he had far too much personality.

The disastrous defeat of the Hrud Expedition had driven Dantioch to furiously rebuke the primarch's stupidity and stubbornness right to Perturabo's face.

That would have been unimaginable in any other Legion.

Let alone in a Legion with exceptionally strict ranks and a primarch with an exceptionally foul temper.

For a primarch as petty as Perturabo, merely ordering Dantioch stripped of his power armor, removing him from his position at