"Finally sent that plague god away. I hope the plan goes smoothly."
"Curze, Curze... this is your last chance."
By the viewport of the Red Alert, Lox watched the warship that had detached from the edge of the Unyielding Truth race toward Mandeville Point, before finally vanishing into a Warp rift.
"This will be an extremely difficult mission. I wonder whether that unreliable fellow can pull it off."
Curze was now a nail the Imperium had driven into the traitors. Aside from bringing Magnus back and replacing the Emperor on that damned Golden Throne, he might perhaps produce unexpected results at a critical moment.
But that meant Curze would have to maneuver among the other traitor primarchs. If his acting was poor and he exposed a flaw, Lox could only mourn for him.
He had left three hundred suits of strong-interaction armor aboard Curze's ship, along with matching melee and ranged weapons—enough for Curze to equip a group of Night Lords warriors loyal to him.
As for future supplies, the Night Lords would have to draw upon their fine traditions: when the neighbors stockpile grain, we stockpile guns; the neighbors become our granary.
In addition, Lox had specifically instructed Curze to take good "care" of those planets that had betrayed the Imperium, especially worlds with abundant resources and production capacity. Didn't they want to join Horus for a chance to keep living?
Their chance had come—with the Night Lords.
Ever since their defeat in the Thramas Crusade, the Night Lords Legion had been dissolved by Sevatar at the last moment to prevent its destruction. It had split into six great companies and fled in different directions. Reassembling the Legion would be a truly formidable challenge.
"Dorn is guarding Terra and the Solar System. The Lion, Sanguinius, and Jaghatai are about