Since a long time ago, Ahriman had not felt truly happy. Even exploring the mysterious Vast Ocean with his gene-father couldn't make this most excellent son of Magnus as ecstatic as his blood brothers. His upper limit of happiness was restricted to a low level by certain sad past events, making this Captain of the Thousand Sons Legion almost constantly maintain a maddening personality composed of steadiness, calmness, shrewdness, and arrogance.
And all of this traces back to the very beginning of the Great Crusade, an era when even the Astartes seemed still raw and bewildered. Tens of thousands of warriors followed the Emperor's command, departing from Terra, attacking Venus and Neptune, launching conquests towards nearby star systems and distant realms.
At that time, even the most fervent Astartes dared not imagine the Emperor's ambition. By the time they realized the true extent of the "Great Crusade's" conquests, the Imperium's territory had already broken beyond the so-called Solar System.
And the Thousand Sons Legion was precisely one of the last Astartes warrior groups to depart. These nascent newcomers hadn't even proven themselves on the battlefields of Terra. However, the Emperor's gaze was clearly upon them. Less than ten years into the Great Crusade,
the originally unremarkable Thousand Sons Legion suddenly discovered: the fire of psychic power began to appear among them, and quickly gathered momentum like a prairie fire. Indeed, this incomprehensible power caused the Thousand Sons Legion to be ostracized among the Legions. Some, like Mortarion, these Scientific Rationalists, even verbally attacked them. But under the allure of power, the sons of Magnus happily accepted all of it.
Until the occurrence of the Byzantine Incident. After large-scale memory wipes and self-suggestion, very few people remembered what exactly happened on the Byzantine world. But every Thousand Son knew that when the Legion left that place, the "Flesh Change" had become an unshakeable curse upon the sons of Magnus. This curse almost annihilated the entire Legion. It was more brutal than the Third Legion's Blight, more out of control than the Ninth Legion's Blood Frenzy. Thousands of Thousand Sons warriors did not fall in pursuit of victory and honor, but died agonizingly and grotesquely on starships and operating tables. Their twisted remains were covered in fangs and tentacles, making even their closest comrades unwilling to cast another glance.
And at the very moment the entire Legion was on the verge of extinction, they finally arrived at Prospero. The gene-father of the Thousand Sons returned to their side. Magnus personally ventured into the Warp, and after sacrificing an eyeball and certain other costs he was unwilling to mention, the curse of the Fifteenth Legion finally crumbled under the Primarch's efforts. Everything seemed to end happily, but the penultimate act of this comedy was a complete tragedy: in the period when Magnus and the Thousand Sons reunited,
the Legion's Flesh Change had precisely reached its peak. The Primarch had rushed into the Warp in desperation. If he hadn't, the Legion would have perished. And even though Magnus's sorcery saved the Legion, it didn't save everyone: most of the Thousand Sons warriors couldn't withstand the power of their gene-father. Only about a thousand fortunate ones gained "new life."
Ahriman was one of the fortunate ones, but his brother, his full-blooded sibling, who had walked out of the Achaemenid Empire with him and joined the army together: Ohmzod, was not among them. From the moment he witnessed Ohmzod's death, Ahriman's heart was cut by a malicious blade. A large part of his joy and happiness was permanently destroyed, and even if the most delightful thing in the galaxy lay before him, a portion of his chest would forever be occupied by endless shadow.
It was precisely because of this that Ahriman was able to throw himself into work and research like a madman. And this offspring, ravenous for knowledge, naturally caught Magnus's attention. Thus, the fortunate one who had lost his brother began to rise rapidly. He quickly became one of the foremost among the Thousand Sons' Captains. Among all his advisors, Magnus also paid particular attention to his proposals, and even the Crimson Scholars, who were the true core circle of the Legion, began to reserve a place for this rising star.
But even so, Ahriman was not excessively proud or complacent—he dared not be. This fortunate one deeply feared the Flesh Change from before, even though it had been annihilated by his gene-father. But in the Thousand Sons Captain's deepest nightmares, this curse that once destroyed the Legion seemed destined to return sooner or later. He knew this was impossible, that it was delusion. His great gene-father had long since completely eradicated this curse,
grinding it to dust, right there in the majestic Warp. But when the night of Prospero descended, when he lay on his bunk, unable to sleep peacefully, the collective fear and fantasy would seize his mind. This worry lingered, as if a contemptuous voice whispered in his ear, murmuring about the tragic future of his father, his battle-brothers, and himself. Precisely because of this, Ahriman rarely slept well. And precisely because of this, he maintained a cold and arrogant vigilance, especially when they walked in the Vast Ocean. This vigilance was infinitely amplified, so much so that he often detected omens even before his father.
"Father..."
"Ah, I see it now, Ahriman."
"A living being of the Vast Ocean appearing simultaneously with the ballad. Interesting, a completely new subject."
Magnus's voice contained the excitement of exploration, the confidence of a scholar, the arrogance of a powerful being, but none of the instinctive reverence and caution that a traveler would exhibit when entering deep mountains and distant forests. He even led his retinue, actively walking towards the newly emerged shadow.
The Warp creature appearing in the ballad was utterly unlike any animal or plant in the eyes of the world. It was like a gigantic reef in towering waves, smoothed and polished by countless layers of surging water. In everyone's sight, thousands of tiny, shimmering fragments danced upon and around its body, just like seabirds soaring around coastal cliffs.
"Look, fragments of Aetheric Forms."
Magnus walked forward. He extended his hand and effortlessly fixed dozens of floating points of light. When these entities ceased moving, the Thousand Sons were finally able to clearly see them: these wondrous beings could only be observed with psychic sight. They displayed utterly unique appearances; some were as graceful and beautiful as true elves, others like an arrogant eagle, and some were fragmented, without a defined shape, yet emitted a dazzling light no weaker than their brethren.
"They might be part of this giant creature, or another species with a symbiotic relationship with it. In this desolate and chaotic Vast Ocean, perhaps there exists a wondrous connection unique to the creatures here that we have yet to discover."
Magnus's fingers slowly descended with his words. Without the hindrance of this great power, those shimmering Aetheric fragments burst forth in a blink of an eye. They happily gathered around the Thousand Sons, with a few even boldly approaching one Astartes warrior. Before Ahriman, such a captivating being floated. Its form was ethereal and exquisite, possessing bright eyes and an ever-changing halo. The Thousand Sons Captain extended a finger, and almost immediately felt this cute little creature begin to dwell upon his soul and will.
Perhaps he should give it a name, for example… Aetpio?
But Ahriman's will was not entirely occupied by this tiny being before him. Thoroughness was a virtue of many Astartes. Through the power of his soul, Ahriman observed two aspects simultaneously. His friend, the mortal named Morgan, did not have these lovely Aetheric fragments gathering around her. The Warp creatures seemed not to be close to her; they bypassed her, congregating around the Thousand Sons. And Morgan didn't pay attention to any of this. She just looked at the massive, simple-minded Warp creature, staring fixedly at it. Ahriman could even see Morgan's body trembling uncontrollably.
Oh, poor little one, witnessing such a wondrous sight must have terrified her.
Ahriman thought to himself.
On the other hand, the Thousand Sons Captain could perceive that his gene-father was attempting to communicate with the colossal creature. The communication between the two psychic beings was not through language, gestures, or symbols, but through a pure channeling of power. The Primarch allowed the massive creature to partially etherealize his body, half-enveloping the Primarch, while Magnus tilted his head back, receiving a continuous stream of novel information.
"Some complex words, currently unable to analyze, but it seems quite pleased, and even willing to share a bit with us." The Primarch offered a brief evaluation. He clenched his fist, feeling a surge of vigorous power being selflessly shared. This nameless Warp creature was clearly different from this twisted Vast Ocean; it was a truly benevolent and great being. Perhaps in the future, when he encountered difficulties, he could consider coming here to draw upon more power.
Such a thought flashed through Magnus's mind, and Ahriman only saw his father display a certain arrogant smile—a face that exuded complete control and naturally inspired trust. Ahriman also smiled. He began to anticipate how his gene-father would explain and teach more new knowledge.
And then...
And then he knew nothing.
"Ahriman, Ahriman!"
"Wake up, wake up quickly!"
When Ahriman struggled to regain consciousness amidst constant urgings, the scenery around him had changed. Everything that was once shifting and calm had been brutally ravaged, as if a storm had swept across a silvery beach. As far as the Thousand Sons could see, there were shattered clouds and wailing fissures everywhere. The colossal creature and thousands of Aetheric fragments had all vanished—no, at least Aetpio was still there, perched on his shoulder guard.
But that wasn't the main point, because Ahriman soon discovered something more critical: Magnus was gone, and Morgan was also gone.
"...What happened?!"
"That creature, that Warp creature, suddenly exploded on its own. Father was pulled into a vortex, and you were too close, so you were also affected and have been unconscious until now."
"Morgan? What about Morgan?"
"...I don't know. It was too chaotic then; no one paid attention to her. But I think I saw her pulled into another vortex... What should we do, Ahriman?"
"Of course, find our Father as quickly as possible! First, determine our current location, then try to contact him."
Ahriman roared in rage. And just as he exerted all his effort to command his comrades, Athavah quietly approached.
"Then, Ahriman, what about Morgan? If she's alone, a mortal, she might be in grave danger."
Mentioning his friend, Ahriman hesitated. Athavah could hear the Thousand Sons Captain gritting his teeth. He painfully hesitated for two moments before slowly and firmly speaking.
"Our first priority is to find Father. Our second priority is to ensure the safety of our current personnel. As for Morgan..."
"Don't worry about her."
"Hope she's lucky."
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