"So in the end, was it you or Rogal Dorn who killed Alpharius?" Lox asked curiously beside Lion in the command center of the Phalanx.
With the primarchs' duel decided, all the rebels on the Hydra orbital fortress had been purged.
After the Legion apothecaries recovered the gene-seed of the fallen Imperial Fists and Alpha Legionaries, phosphor flamers consigned all sin to the flames.
The commander of the Hussar guard Rogal Dorn had sent to Pluto to investigate had been dragged back from Death's grasp by the Dark Angels' apothecaries while on the verge of dying. He was grievously wounded; Alpharius's thrust had shattered his second heart with terrifying precision.
Fortunately, after training on Macragge, the Dark Angels' apothecaries had acquired far more methods of treating injuries. A shattered heart was entirely within their capabilities.
As for Alpharius's corpse, Lion ordered the Dark Angels to retrieve and store it. Though the other man's sins could not be forgiven, the Lion had no wish to desecrate a brother's remains.
Hearing Lox's question, Lion narrowed his eyes slightly, as though considering how to answer.
"Of course it was me. I killed Alpharius. Lion merely provided some minor assistance."
A cold, hard voice rang out. Rogal Dorn's short silver-white hair, bristling like steel needles, was especially striking. His face possessed the sharp, sculpted contours of a perfect ancient Greek statue, while his utterly steadfast eyes met anyone's gaze without hesitation.
One could see directly into Dorn's open heart through his eyes. Rogal Dorn never concealed himself; his thoughts and intentions were laid plainly before all.
Lox's heart skipped a beat. Lion El'Jonson was famous for yielding to softness but not force. Dorn's utterly tactless words would inevitably anger this Calibanite, who was notoriously petty.
Sure enough, just as he expected, Lion's expression stiffened.