#i'll probs revisit something like this later but for now it works

[ask-the-crimson-king]

⏳⚫️ (more specifically the dark chambers)

( @askthecaptiangeneral )

Your choice on 30k or 40k Mun

[Time Asks]

@askthecaptiangeneral

🌑 or “dark” for one of my muse’s darker memories and/or secret memories

The depths of the Imperial archives were inaccessible to many, and with very good reason. The knowledge within was not for the common people; it could too easily be used for ill, instead of good. Then again, all knowledge could be used in such a manner.

But in this section? This one, hidden behind esoteric meaning and symbology unknown to all but a precious few? This was dangerous. Even to the most practiced mind, it could still have disastrous consequences.

And that was precisely why Magnus was here.

He had just arrived on Terra naught but a few hours ago but was immediately drawn into the Imperial archives. He was brought to it like a moth to a flame, knowing that the answers he sought were to be found here. He had to act swiftly; his Legion's future was ensnared too deep for him to untangle with the knowledge he had, and so he needed to look to one of the greatest repositories of wisdom in the entire galaxy.

It was here that, after countless hours of searching and learning, he finally felt ready. He warded his mind as best he could, formed a ritual circle around where his body would be left, and he set free his soul into the deepest depths of the Great Ocean.

Familiar currents kept him aloft and acted as his compass as he flew. Threads wove about him like a spider's web. He chased visions of his Legion's degeneration, phantasms of what could and could not be, diving ever deeper. All along the way, lurking predators tailed him, but he ignored them. Time was of the essence.

One slim thread was leading him farther and farther within. It felt as though he was swimming down into the greatest abyss of the deepest ocean, where no light would ever be seen or felt again. Lurking creatures oggled at the newcomer, some chittering and cackling too close for comfort. Magnus ignored them. All that mattered was the thread -- one vision of a brilliant future where he stood with his Sons triumphant. He just needed to go a little deeper-

You're out of your depth, aren't you?

The voice echoed all around him, stopping him short. Magnus reached out all of his senses; those creatures in the dark had all gone. There was only one suffocating presence that felt as though it was all around him. Eyes began to blink at him in the inky abyss, colors shimmering off of mismatched feathers and scales.

+What are you?+ he asked.

The means of your salvation. More accurately, the salvation of your Sons.

+What do you know of them?+

That you love them so dearly. That they are doomed to die as terrible, twisted amalgams, unless you decide to intervene, here and now. Its voice was sickening. It sounded both genuine and mocking. Its tones were familiar yet foreign.

+You can help me attain the means to saving them?+

I can. And I am the only one who will grant you such knowledge, Magnus the Red.

Something about this felt wrong. This was an ancient and dangerous thing, he knew. But... he had tread so many paths of fate, even before he dove so deep... the only means of saving them could only be found within the deepest depths of both the future and history. Every time he tried to untangle a knot before, it felt as though nine came to replace it. He had already labored for many long nights ever since he had met his Legion in the flesh and saw the pain they were going through.

But this thing. This thing, this predator of the depths, it could be leading him astray. Even as his thoughts turned to such a conclusion, a wide, sharp-toothed smile appeared before him.

Do you have any other choice?

That gave him pause. Did he? Would there be anything else out here? Would there be anything else in the depths? Or would he dive too deeply and lose his way back to the Materium as he knew it?

+You can save them?+

For a price, Magnus. But something tells me you will pay any price to save them from their fates.

As it spoke, visions of Astartes in agonizing spasms filled the shimmering void around them. Flesh bulged and stretched, new limbs grew and multiplied, screams and begging cries filled the air. They called out for help, for mercy, anything to make it stop. Those who were not presently affected were filled with guilt and shame as they would not prevent what was seemingly inevitable.

Magnus felt it all. He felt their pain, their sorrow, their horror, their despair, their grief. He began to find himself overwhelmed by it all, tears spilling from eyes both incorporeal and not.

+Enough!+ Magnus cried. +Name your price. I will grant it to you. Just help me save them. They do not deserve their suffering.+

Cruel, terrifying laughter began to echo from all around him.

---

Some time later, he was back within his body.

His limbs were weak and weary, and he found himself weeping from only one eye. Where his other had been was now nothing but smoothed over flesh.

This new visage of his would be the one history would remember forevermore. And it would be the one constant Magnus would never change about himself.

He knew he was not alone in the room. Someone was addressing him, but he could hardly register who it was at first. After some refocusing, he saw it was a Custodian. One of his father's personal guardians.

Blearily, he wiped at his eye. It seemed he might've been summoned.

Best not to let evidence of what had happened show too brightly.

None could know of what really happened. All he knew was that the fate of his Legion had been secured.