Sanguinius strapped the iron scabbard and lifted the Black Sword testing the weight of the blade. The hilt was hard as admantium but felt lighter than a feather. Channeling his essence into the very core of the weapon the Black Sword blazed bright enough to blind a man and the razor sharp edges of the blade cut into the very real space causing warp ether to spill forth. The Primarch cut off the power to the sword and it grew black again. "To test this weapon versus Drach'nyen... my blood burns at the thought."
"My Lord I have a question for you." said the large Templar named Oathsbane.
"Yes?" said the Primarch.
"Following your death at the hands of the Emperor do you have any memory up until your Legion eventually was able to revive you?"
"I do... the oblivion was long, hard and cold as ice. I was forever trapped by black pain and remorse but the feeling of the great hunger and raging thirst burned within me forever."
"Was that all?" asked Oathsbane.
"No." said Sanguinius.
"What else then my Lord?"
"The constant desire for revenge, having died at the hand of the Emperor filled my soul with utter shame. I saved our Sire from certain death at the hands of the Archfiend Horus having succumbed to a deep fit of the Black Rage then he turned on me at my weakest moment." Sanguinius' eyes burned like red coals and he could still remember the brutal hate that had filled his mind.
"Once we believed him to be divine but his treachery has undone our faith." said Oathsbane. "We are still forever loyal to the Imperium though and we shall all fight by your side." The Templar drew his power mace and held it out. "Our Chapter is at number rivaling even that of the original Legions and we are ready as ever now."
Sanguinius held up the Black Sword. "My gratitude to your Chapter for this great gift is ever eternal. Abbadon will pay for the death of your great champion Sigismund at my hands. You can rest assured he will suffer a slow painful and utterly humiliating death." Sanguinius felt the hilt of the Black Sword twisting in his steely grip like a dark vyper, it's very essence spilling coldly into his core. "He will die as his weakling father did at my very own hands. Soulless. Honorless. Weeping. Ashamed."
Oathsbane smiled. "Those are the very words of Sigismund and I will be there to witness this final act."
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