Calm... breathe.
A piercing scream, full of horror, struck his ears, mixing with the acrid stench of urine. Kariel was not surprised. He simply walked over and with a light movement snapped the man's neck.
As always, the floor was littered with corpses.
However, this time everything was a little cleaner. At least there were no severed limbs. Most of the bodies remained intact – death had come either from a broken spine or from suffocation. There was much less blood, but it still inevitably formed crimson puddles on the carpet.
The human body is a fragile thing. Especially for the current Kariel.
A blue wall lamp in the corridor flickered, its surface splattered with blood. But the cause of the malfunction was a fleeting, momentary chill. The crackling of electricity could be heard from behind the wall – the death throes of power cables.
Kariel turned and slowly lowered the corpse to the floor.
There was no need to desecrate the bodies.
He is not them.
Slowly, trying to avoid puddles of blood and the dead, he walked to the door at the end of the corridor, crouched down, and froze in anticipation.
The corridor was made as majestic as possible. Its creator did not just blindly copy the decor of the aristocrats from the Upper Hive – intentionally or not, he – or she – gave this place a grim magnificence, getting rid of the disgusting decorations.
But even here, Kariel had to stoop.
His enormous height brought not only strength and agility but also some inconvenience.
For example, his favorite methods of infiltration – through windows or narrow, dark alleys – became inaccessible to this body.
Before this sortie, he had even spent twenty minutes getting used to the new body and checking if he could still use his signature "sliding" technique.
The answer pleased him, but there were other problems.
His two blades.
To be honest, with his current size, they could hardly be called weapons.
But Kariel was not going to go back to the past.
He had entered into an alliance that, along with unwanted rights, also imposed responsibility on him.
And although he had not yet seen the full extent of this responsibility, Kariel knew: he had to be prepared. Immense power had already hinted to him that he had no room for error.
"Galaxy... what a frightening word," he thought with a touch of admiration. At that very moment, slow footsteps were heard from outside. One person.
He could state this with the same certainty as he heard his breathing, heart rate, and the measured, calm flow of blood in his vessels.
The hunched giant slowly straightened up, leaning against the ceiling. He silently reached out his hand and, a moment before the person outside grabbed the handle, gently pushed the door himself.
The flickering blue light snatched from the darkness the floor strewn with corpses, then the giant's grim face.
Before the person behind the door could scream, Kariel said softly:
"Good evening, Director Cummins. Would you be so kind as not to scream?"
The only answer was a tremor of facial muscles. Kariel sighed, reached out, gripped his jaw, and turned the scream about to escape into a muffled, pained groan.
And then pulled him into the darkness.
The door closed silently.
…
Under the furious gusts of icy wind, Kariel returned to the Sanctuary. The roof was empty; the rainwater filter was in place, but the hunched figure that had previously sat on it was gone.
He raised his head, looking at the bluish-purple clouds.
"I wonder how he's doing..."
Kariel shook his head, pushing the thought deeper.
For the next two weeks, he had no intention of returning to that enormous, gold-drenched ship.
Firstly, he strongly disliked that style of decoration. Secondly, the Night Ghost could rely on Kariel Lohars, but Konrad Curze had to learn to make all decisions independently.
Besides, he had very little time left.
The Eighth Legion would arrive in two weeks. Fourteen days, or rather, thirteen days and eight hours. He had no idea of their numbers, but since they were called a Legion, there must be quite a few.
Konrad Curze's blood flowed in their veins. By blood, they were his sons. But Kariel understood something else perfectly well.
The Emperor saw the Primarchs only as tools.
Tools for what?
For killing.
And what about these modified warriors, in whose veins flowed the blood of tools? What would they become? Second-rate tools?
Kariel did not want to think that way about people he had never seen. Besides, they fought for humanity under the banner of the Emperor.
This meant they deserved his respect.
This meant that Kariel would call them "warriors" for now. And if Konrad Curze had to meet warriors...
The current state of Quintus was unlikely to please them.
He didn't know how other Legions felt about their Primarchs, but it seemed to Kariel that these relationships could hardly be called close.
He imagined a crowd of strangers shouting "father" at him, and a chill ran down his spine.
In any case, Quintus needed to be prepared as best as possible for their arrival.
That night, he killed three factory owners and a whole gang of thugs who had set up an ambush, intending to prematurely unleash the Great Purge.
In three hours, he would go to the Upper Hive, find the aristocrat he had once let go, and cut him down along with the pack of minor nobles who, like hyenas, were tearing apart others' possessions.
His partner had gained a new status, which meant it was time for him to update his methods.
However...
"Hyenas," he chuckled. "Funny. Just as funny as you, Lorgar Aurelian."
The golden-skinned giant emerged silently from the darkness behind the Sanctuary. He was still limping. With tightly pursed lips, he stared intently at Kariel, but there was no anger in his gaze.
"Hyenas?" he repeated in a low voice.
"Yes, animals from Ancient Terra... Pack animals, fierce, cunning, and sly, but with a very strict social hierarchy."
Kariel shook his head with a smile.
"Have you been waiting long?"
"Four hours."
"So, you arrived after Rogal Dorn."
Lorgar nodded calmly.
"I noticed the door he fixed for you."
"He is truly an outstanding craftsman," Kariel nodded with admiration, looking at the sturdy door.
To turn such junk into something so reliable, and without a single tool – truly a frightening talent.
"He is one of the Emperor's sons," Lorgar said sharply. "You shouldn't call him that."
"And what should I call him?"
Kariel sighed.
"Do you think the words 'master' and 'outstanding' insult him?"
"I am sure my brother loves architecture and design, and he is indeed outstanding... but you shouldn't have said that anyway."
Lorgar shook his head stubbornly and changed the subject: "You beat me up badly today."
"I know," Kariel replied calmly. "I did it intentionally."
"...You defeated me by force," Lorgar said dully. "The winner of an argument is determined by words, not fists."
"What makes you think I was going to argue with you?"
Kariel shook his head with a smile, but there was no trace of amusement in it.
"I can tolerate your judgments about me; I don't care about them. But you shouldn't have portrayed Konrad Curze as a helpless infant who can be manipulated."
"He is a child."
"Even by our standards, he is still too young," Lorgar said, restraining his anger.
"And so?"
"And so, you shouldn't be stuffing your philosophy into his head."
Lorgar Aurelian frowned. He no longer resorted to his fiery oratorical talent, but spoke surprisingly seriously and weightily.
"This dark theory may have a right to exist here on Nostramo, but can you imagine how vast the galaxy is? Not every planet needs cruel punishments and night executioners; not all worlds are like this..."
"Like this? Like?"
"Fallen."
Lorgar spat out the word with hatred. He hated not the planet itself, but the darkness that reigned on it. The darkness that had crippled his brother, turning him into a pale, thin, sullen child.
Kariel squinted.
Lorgar's behavior was strikingly different from before. He no longer rambled about his speculations or accused Kariel of baseness. There were two possibilities.
First: he talked to Konrad Curze and got an answer from him.
Second: he figured something out himself.
"Can even such a stubborn Primarch react so quickly?" Kariel chuckled silently.
And Lorgar continued:
"I apologize for my words, Kariel Lohars."
Lorgar widened his eyes and spoke slowly but calmly. The expression on his face was so solemn, so serious, that it resembled the proclamation of a manifesto.
"I don't know who you are or where you got this power from. But I can tell you – I don't care."
"Father has bestowed great honor upon you; do not waste it. My brother loves you, and you had better cherish that feeling. Of course, you may consider my words ashes in the wind, but I swear..."
The golden giant slowly clenched his fists.
"If you betray my father or my brother, I..."
"What 'you'?" Kariel asked calmly.
He waited impatiently for Lorgar's answer. No, it wasn't a lie. He was really waiting.
"I will kill you," Lorgar Aurelian said. "I will definitely kill you."
Kariel smiled.
He spread his arms.
"If such a day comes..." he said softly, "you won't have to dirty your hands."
***
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