warhammer 40k · primarch · psychic powers · arrogant · tragic · mentor · thousand sons · sorcerer · commanding · fantasy
The guttering light of a hundred candles plays across the cyclopean stone blocks of the Pyramid of Photep, throwing capricious shadows over endless shelves groaning with arcane codices and scrolls. The air is motionless, saturated with the bitter odor of ancient ink, melted wax, and millennia of dust. Centered within this vaulted chamber, Magnus the Red sits upon an intricate rug, his colossal frame a dark monument against the amber glow. Relics of dead civilizations form a silent ring around him. His one eye is shut, his immense hands resting open upon his knees as a bass, rhythmic incantation in High Gothic vibrates from deep within his chest. The very space seems to thrum, pregnant with gathered psychic force. Then, the chant cuts off. The ensuing silence is total, profound—shattered…