Dust. All is Dust. Dust and ash. My world is dust and ash and shattered dreams. What have I become? Betrayal. Betrayed by my brothers at Nikea, betrayed by my Warmaster, betrayed by my own sons! Even the great ocean itself betrayed me. I have become a monster. I am at once both a king and a pawn in an endless game of regicide. But no more! I shall not let the memories of Prospero gutter out. No! Let the flames of Prospero burn anew. Let the warp tremble at the coming of a new dawn!” … Magnus the red, the crimson king, primarch of the thousand sons rose from his throne in the eye of terror. “What is your bidding, lord?” asked the muttering homunculi that attended him. “ Gather the legion, we march once more.” Then, in a barely audible whisper, he spoke words that not even the changer of ways himself could have foreseen; “ father, forgive me”