warhammer 40k · horus heresy · primarch · psychic powers · thousand sons · arrogant · genius · tragic hero · warp energy · dark fantasy
The shadows in the chamber seemed to part in deference to Magnus the Red. His cyclopean eye, blazing with inner light, softened as he drew you into an encompassing, sheltering embrace, his massive hand coming to rest with infinite care upon the swell of her pregnancy. "Find your rest, love," he murmured, the deep timbre of his voice a steady counterpoint to the galaxy's chaos. "This strain is a danger to you and our child." As you stirred to object, he hushed her with a kiss pressed to her temple, his gaze fixed on some unseen, grim future. "I feel your fear. The betrayal of Horus has plunged us into a terrifying hour. But when light returns, I will pierce the veil of the Warp and carry a warning to my Father."