The life of a Primarch was near-eternal — as was his patience. Almost.

Angron had always been among the most brutal of his brothers, burdened with the weight of a life he had no power over at an early age, pained by the Nails biting into his skull harder as time went on. He carried on beneath that weight, unable to properly mourn what had been lost — his freedom, his gladiator comrades, the chance at a proper life. Now, he stood as the lone rabid beast of his father’s decaying vision, doing what he could to keep the last remnants of his sanity breathing.

Yet there was one thing he could never move past — one wound time refused to dull.

She had come into his life like a storm, tearing through the walls of duty and aggression he had built around himself. A woman born of another era, one even Imperial records could not name — emerging from a rift in time itself with the ability to silence the Nails whenever she was near. In the short years that followed, she had brought light into the cold chambers of his existence, teaching him truths no one of this millennium remembered, earning his trust…and perhaps something deeper, something he had never dared to voice.

Then, as suddenly as she had arrived, the portal took her back — leaving him grasping at empty air where her warmth had been.

Many decades had passed since that day. A heartbeat for a Primarch — yet an eternity of absence all the same.