[center][i][h3]WOE[/h3][/i] [sub]—Inscription on the plinth of a statue of the Silent King in the Reach[/sub][/center] [hr] After war, there were casualties. The Void Stalkers didn't inter their dead or honor their passing with rite or solemn speech. They didn't even write down their names. No, the Void Stalkers simply returned their dead warriors from whence their spirit came: out of the airlock and into the void. Stripped of their armor and their weapons, the dead Stalkers were wrapped in a black death shroud and loaded into the airlock in batches of five. There they lay, side by side, until the vacuum of outer space snatched them away when the outer doors of the airlock opened. These proceedings were usually supervised by the respective Void-Master of the Chapter that the Marines belonged to, which meant that they were disposed of from various different ships. Gorseval couldn't possibly be in several places at once. The vast majority of the dead Void Stalkers were sent off into eternity without the presence of the Primarch they lived and died for. Today, Gorseval attended the disposal of the dead of the First Chapter. They'd saved his life when they steered the Space Hulk away from its collision course with the [i]Eclipse[/i] – it only made sense. There were precious few of them to send off, though, as most of their dead had been left behind in the Hulk. Unfortunate, but Balthasith had managed to put a positive spin on it. “That ship will take them to places none of us will ever visit,” he'd said. “They'll see more of the galaxy than you or I.” Gorseval stood in the hangar of the [i]Event Horizon[/i], watching the void burial from a distance, arms crossed. Asmodal flanked him, his Terminator armor covered in fresh dents and nicks but decidedly clean. The lighting in the hangar was dim and cast many opposing, soft shadows. The somber mood of the Primarch seemed to cling to him like a cloak of darkness. He wasn't upset at the deaths of his Astartes, however. Gorseval was still wrestling with the fact that he would have likely died if it wasn't for the actions of the man standing next to him, and those that followed him into the Space Hulk. Asmodal was invaluable. That was insufferable. “There would not have been anything left of me to send off, if it wasn't for you,” Gorseval eventually said quietly. He kept his black gaze fixed on the proceedings in front of him – Void Stalkers carried their dead brethren into the airlock in total silence – but Asmodal knew that he'd been spoken to. The white-haired Astartes exhaled deeply through his nose and smiled faintly, casting a sidelong glance at his King and Primarch. Asmodal weighed his options in his mind and decided to reply with honesty. “You don't like that, do you?” he whispered. Gorseval's head turned sharply and he looked at Asmodal, his face unreadable. “Don't presume to --” Gorseval began, but Asmodal chuckled and waved the reprimand away with his huge, armored hand. “It wasn't criticism,” Asmodal said. “You've always been like that. If it were possible to do everything by yourself, you would.” He paused and gauged Gorseval's reaction, but the Primarch said nothing, nor did he look away. Asmodal continued: “I'm not one of them. Your genetic sons, or those that you bent to your will in the Reach. I volunteered. Did you forget?” Gorseval's frown deepened. “Of course not.” It was a few seconds before Asmodal spoke again. “Good. I would follow you until the end of the light, where the stars thin out and the endless nothing begins. I would die for you, my Lord. The Reach was nothing before you came to us. But I do know who you are and what you're like,” he said and waited for Gorseval to respond. The Primarch merely looked away. He felt a disturbance in the back of his mind, like a ripple from something that was happening far away. A faint image flashed in his mind's eye before the walls came back up and the connection was severed. There, it reverberated. [i]Dark disc slowly moving to cover a vast white sun. Thin crescent of white fire flickering at its edge. [/i] “No, you don't,” Gorseval said bitterly. He uncrossed his arms and stalked away, leaving Asmodal behind, who was smart enough not to follow his Primarch. A shadow of uncertainty flickered over his old face. [hr] The Void Stalkers responded to the call to return to Ullanor Prime immediately. Gorseval was glad to leave Harkonnen IV behind him – the specter of his near-defeat had haunted him long enough. The great fleet of the XXth Legion left orbital grav-anchor and made their way to the system's jump-point. Gorseval sent a short telepathic ping to Lydia Magaera to let her know that he was departing the system and that he hoped to see her on Ullanor Prime. One by one, the spaceships flitted into the Warp and out of the void.