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"Tell me, Guilliman. What bad news do you have for me? I’m prepared for it."

Though he was deeply unwilling, Guilliman still came to Lion’s quarters. He hesitated for a few seconds at the door before he could knock, but the Lion had already spoken from inside.

"Your footsteps are far too obvious. Unless I’m so old that I’m deaf and blind, there’s no way I could mistake your voice." Lion took the initiative to open the door. The strange expression on Guilliman’s face immediately set off alarm bells in his mind.

This brother of his was probably about to drop something huge on him again.

Guilliman remained silent. He wanted to make use of his outstanding eloquence, yet found that he had no idea how to begin.

"Don’t you know yourself? You’re simply not good at lying, Roboute. Your footsteps, your heartbeat, and your facial expression have already revealed everything."

"You don’t know how to use lies, which is why Lorgar deceived you with them back then."

The Lion’s sharp gaze swept over him like a blade. Guilliman gritted his teeth and simply came clean.

The deed was already done. It could not get any worse.

"Our brother Vulkan suffered an assassination attempt. A Fulgurite Spear pierced his chest and heart. I don’t know whether he can revive again."

The Lion’s pupils suddenly contracted to pinpoints, followed by a flash of unbelievable shock and indescribable confusion.

Then Lion suddenly laughed, as if he had heard some unbearable joke.

"Guilliman, this had better be a joke. Your joke has gone too far."

"You’d better not have the nerve to joke about a brother’s life."

Yet Guilliman’s expression did not change in the slightest. The smile on Lion’s face gradually failed to hold and turned cold.

"I have doubted your loyalty countless times, but never once have I doubted your competence, because that would be an insult to you. Tell me, what do you intend to do?"

Guilliman brought Lion to the golden coffin holding Vulkan’s body. He had been placed within a sacred memorial hall.

The top of the golden coffin was made of transparent glass. Vulkan’s naked body had been dressed in a set of Guilliman’s personal armor. He looked imposing and sacred, but his eyes remained closed.

The head of his Dawnbringer warhammer pointed upward, resting upon the Lord of Drakes’ chest. The Fulgurite Spear that had taken his life remained lodged in place. They could not remove it.

Vulkan was utterly still. Lion could not hear the slightest sound of blood flowing or a heart beating.

A hidden grief appeared in the Lion’s eyes. Though he had once nearly killed Vulkan himself in order to subdue his brother, that did not mean he felt nothing for him.

"I intend to ask that person. The cursed one who should never have appeared again." Guilliman looked at Lion. "He possesses the strongest psychic precognition among us. Perhaps his visions can help us make the right choice."

The person Guilliman referred to was naturally the Night Haunter, imprisoned within the most secure cell on Macragge.

His psychic precognition surpassed that of any psychic Librarius, allowing him to see an extremely distant future.

"Why would you have such a foolish idea? Seeking advice from that madman? You might as well smack your forehead and make a decision at random."

"Why not just launch Vulkan’s golden coffin into space, wait for him to revive, then have him teleport back? I think that would be more reliable."

Lion dismissed the idea with contempt. His hatred for the Night Haunter ran deep. The grudge-bearing Lion could never forget the lesson that man had taught him by running rampant aboard his flagship.

Though Lion had once, in an extreme rage, used a Lion’s Flying Head Punch on a Legion warrior, he had regretted it deeply afterward. The Lion, fiercely protective of his sons, would never forget the brave warriors who had died at Curze’s hands.

"Then tell me, do you have any good ideas?" Guilliman retorted.

"Vulkan’s death cannot be blamed on me. I’m merely in the same boat as you, forced to bear the consequences alongside you." Lion stubbornly argued for a few moments before helplessly shrugging. "Come on. Let’s hear what that damned Konrad has to say."

"If he dares use that hissing Nostraman to spout more meaningless nonsense, I’ll twist his head off this time."

The Lion’s expression was grim. He had reached the absolute limit of his patience with this traitorous brother.

Guilliman and Lion went alone to the prison holding Konrad Curze, bringing no attendants with them.

This had to remain secret for the time being.

After passing layer upon layer of security checks and identity verification, Guilliman began the unlocking process before a cogitator of the highest security level, using his uniquely powerful mind.

He had learned from the previous incident, when Konrad Curze had used the shared genetic inheritance between Primarchs to escape prison, and had instead adopted a more secure and complex encryption method.

Lion inconspicuously stepped forward two paces. His curiosity toward secrets made it impossible for him to restrain himself.

When he focused his eyes, he saw Guilliman simultaneously operating more than a hundred screens on that cogitator. His fingers moved so quickly they were a blur as he answered more than a hundred exceedingly difficult questions at once.

Those questions involved history, politics, physical sciences, and the humanities. There was even obscure ancient information about the Five Hundred Worlds. Without a deep understanding of Macragge, it would have been impossible to answer them in such a short time.

Is this your personal method of keeping secrets, Guilliman?

Lion’s mouth twitched. He realized that even he would find it difficult to breach this defense. Among the Primarchs, only Guilliman excelled at this kind of multithreaded thought. Few of his brothers took interest in such complicated matters as he did.

The Primarchs’ brains were products of the Emperor’s incredible technology, capable of rivaling the processing power of supercomputers.

In theory, every Primarch could master the vast majority of knowledge in the galaxy. They could become great physicists, chemists, biologists, or writers. Most of the time, however, they preferred to solve problems with their superhuman strength.

They passed Veronica, a close-combat Iron Man. Other than Konrad, the only things moving through the room were several automaton Servitors with their frontal lobes removed. The automated cleaning system could keep the room functioning for long periods.

Within the adamantium cell, Konrad sat reclined on the floor with his back against his bedframe, holding a thick paper book in his hands.

His messy, greasy black hair had been washed clean and tied behind his head, revealing the smooth, deathly pale skin of his face.

As the Emperor’s sons, no Primarch was ugly. Each possessed his own strengths and beauty, and the Night Haunter was no exception.

An unusual sense of calm surrounded Konrad.

Curze seemed not to notice the arrival of his two brothers, continuing to read the ancient classic in his hands, titled "The Old Man and the Sea."

Lox had found it in his database and specially transcribed it onto parchment using a more traditional method. He hoped that this prisoner in a cage might gain some insight from it.

Guilliman had tacitly approved of Lox’s actions. He even regularly sent new books to his traitorous brother, hoping Curze might change, even if only a little.

Lion found the environment uncomfortable. The room contained a large number of Untouchable skeletons. Those anti-psychic relics made him feel as though thorns were pressing against his back, while the confined environment made him even more displeased.

"I should thank you. Ever since I stayed here, the frequency of my prophetic visions has greatly decreased. Much of the time, I can even remain lucid."

"Only after being lost for so long can one understand the value of peace and clarity."

Curze closed the book and spoke to Guilliman.

"You came too, my dear big-cat brother." Curze’s distinctive Nostraman accent immediately made Lion bristle, but separated by the adamantium bars, there was nothing he could do to the Night Haunter.

"Vulkan is dead. Two mortal Psykers assassinated him," Guilliman said silently.

Konrad did not seem surprised in the slightest. After all, he had already seen Vulkan’s death in his psychic visions.

"We want to know Vulkan’s fate. Will our brother remain silent forever?"

Konrad stood. Even without power armor, he was as tall as Guilliman and Lion.

"Are you fools? I cannot use my precognitive abilities here, so how could I tell you the answer?"

With a shing, Lion drew his Lion Sword. The Night Haunter fearlessly pressed his head between the bars, the pressure warping his flesh, and continued provoking the Lion.

"During this time, I have been thinking about the future—the prophecies I have seen, the hallucinations I have heard, and how my justice should continue."

"The future is not fixed. It changes at every moment. But at least I once saw Vulkan die and return to life. He will stand at Father’s side and become his final safeguard."

Konrad’s new understanding surprised Guilliman. He vaguely felt that this brother of his seemed somewhat different now.

"A man can be destroyed, but not defeated." Konrad closed his eyes and murmured the words.

"Yes. I can be destroyed, but not defeated."