Sanguinius remained silent for a long time.
"You are right. The empire our father created drove back the dark long night of old, but now that long night is returning. Humanity cannot endure another Age of Strife."
"Brothers are slaughtering brothers, the stars are burning, and the foul things of the Warp have defiled the worlds that belong to us. We must do something."
Guilliman realized that his brother had made a decision. He could not help rising from his seat, and the Lion likewise stood with utmost gravity.
"I understand that you want me to sit upon that throne. I will not argue with you, because since you have done this, you must have prepared sufficient arguments and reasons."
"We have no time for such meaningless matters. So let us skip those tiresome games of maneuvering. Can you guarantee me—guarantee your unconditional loyalty to our father?"
The Angel stood with his back to them, his wings spread wide and gleaming beneath the sunlight streaming through the windows.
"We swear that once the Warp storms subside, whether Terra still stands or not, we will bring every warship and gather every troop to march upon Terra together."
"If our father has not yet fallen, then we shall become his most dependable reinforcements. If misfortune has already befallen him, then we shall become sons of vengeance and send every traitor into hell."
The three primarchs cut their fingers, each squeezing out a drop of blood and mingling it upon an oath written on parchment.
Thus was the blood oath of the Emperor's three sons sworn. When their blood merged as one, a new aetheric tide was born within the insubstantial Sea of Souls, on the opposite side of the material universe.
It represented the birth and formation of a concept. A concept