Three Months after the Emperor left for Mars.
It started small at first, strange shadows, whispers in the dark, night terrors among the menials. To the residents of the Imperial Palace nothing was wrong, just more grist for the rumor mill ever present among servants. Stories of ghosts and monsters wandering the halls late at night and doing unspeakable things to those unlucky enough to be caught by them. This all changed when the first body was discovered.
Deaths were not uncommon within the palace, from natural, accidental or violent causes. So normally a corpse showing up in an inner palace construction site might warrant a senior Arbities investigation or even a Custodes involvement if it was close enough to a place of importance. This was an anything but normal case.
Gotfiar Yeon had been an upstanding and loyal servant of the Imperium and no amount of digging revealed anything about him that made his fate seem in any way just. The construction foreman for Mid-palace construction zone 491-12.1 was found gruesomely butchered and displayed in his former work site.
His skin had been flayed and stretched into a horrific banner of pain. 74% of his bones had been broken into new and distorted positions and blood splatter could be found in a nearly fifty feet radius of the body. Yet arguably worse of all, his face had been perfectly unharmed by the actions and he was easily recognizable to his friends and colleagues who discovered him. The expression he wore was one of utter primal terror that rigor mortis had stretched taught.
The brutality and dramatic nature of both death and body display almost instantly caught the attention of a multiple Imperial Agencies all trained to watch for markers of Chaotic Activity. The Emperor had been extremely thorough in his destruction of Terra's taint but being too thorough is an impossibility when dealing with the Great Enemy.
Eyes of both Malcador and the Emperor soon swarmed the crime scene and despite the finest minds and equipment, the Imperium had to offer no answers could be found. It was almost as if the shadows themselves had killed the poor man. The Investigation was still in full swing when the second murder occurred. It did not stop there, every few days the increasingly worried Agents of the Imperium would receive new reports and still were no closer to their goal. Soon the murders seemingly committed by no one started whispers of a ghost within the palace.
Every few days another random individual, from menial to High-adept was plucked away and butchered. Inhabitants of the place started to report sightings of what they described as "Living shadows" stalking the palace and sightings increased shortly before or after an incident. The palace was in a constant state of turmoil and the Custodes hunted the being that dared to defile their masters home. Little did they or anyone else know the source of the horrors slept badly deep within the Inner Palace.
Ever since his Father had left the regularity and intensity of Konrad Cruze's nightmare increased. Soon the Eighth son of the Emperor was turned into a gaunt wreck of himself, sleep deprivation and trauma were taking their toll. His performance in academics started to slip but his combat performance actually improved, yet in disturbing ways. Konrad was no longer the calculating master of shadows but an ugly terror-inducing gutter fighter.
His brothers attempted to help in their own ways. Tyric, Kalib, and Magnus all independent of each other snuck into his quarters to place wards against evil spirits, witches, and the warp respectively. It worked for a while but eventually, they burnt out from the phenomenon's intensity.
So far the only being capable of stopping the Nightmares was Konrads Father, in The Emperor's absence, his Matrari attempted to use her powers to help. Theresa Nellie was one of the most powerful Empaths ever discovered. She could not just feel emotions of others but manipulate them on a massive scale. Nellie had been enslaved from a young age by a minor Terran Warlord, since the day of her kidnapping she had plotted the tyrants downfall.
Slowly she magnified the negative emotions of her captives lieutenants to drive each and everyone insane or lose there masters favor. Theresa's actions had weakened the Warlord enough that the still young Imperium could conquer the fiefdom. At first, she prepared to do the same to the oncoming Legion. Yet when she saw the Man at the lead of the army she realized what was coming was not just another form of damnation, but salvation carrying a thunderbolt.
In a act of vengeance for all she had been forced to do and for her family butchered at the Warlords hands she magnified his sense of guilt a few billion times over. The once cruel grasping tyrant ordered his strongholds defenses lowered. He ran out the front gate blubbering like a infant and begged for death. His request was granted and Theresa had been recruited by Malcador and eventually was chosen for her position due to her powers being able to effectively counter some of Konrads if they went haywire.
So far she had limited success and managed to keep Konrad relatively sane and stop his psychic powers from driving have the menial staff of the inner palace mad with fear. Now simply whatever was butchering them was. The Nightmares got only worse as time went on and the murders more frequent and brutal.
Eventually, Malcador realized there had to be some sort of connection between the nightmares Konrad refused to speak of and the murders. He had seen the memories of the broken evil thing that the Four had intended to twist him into and the crimes being committed stunk of that Cruze. The Sigillite did not want to consider it but he must, it was becoming increasingly likely that this Cruze was more akin to his counterpart then thought possible.
Malcador requested a Ephori Custodes keep secret watch over Konrad Curze. Soon a particularly masterful walker of shadows stalked the Emperor's Eighth son with none the wiser. After a week or two sightings of the ghost reached an all time high and the Watcher prepared for whatever would come. The next morning the Primarch Quarter was awoken by screaming.
They found Konrad curled into a ball in one of his apartments halls. He was slick with blood and the Ephori lay twitching in a puddle of his ichor that was smeared onto the Eighth Son. Despite his Matarai and his brothers protests, Konrad was spirited away to some of Malcadors secret chambers and the body was investigated.
The Custodes had died much cleaner than the others, the hallway showed the reasons. He had dueled something and lost. It had not been an execution like the others but a battle. As Konrad waited under guard from a full complement of Palace Guards and Custodes. Malcador, the three of the five Tribunes on terra and Arik Taranis watched the helm footage of the Custodes. He had been a diligent servant of the Emperor and recorded the entire fight, and when he realized he was outmatched prioritized footage quality over his own survival.
They watched as the Custodes rushed from his hiding place to the door outside of Konrads quarters. Secretly placed sensors both arcane and otherwise had been triggered and they watched through his eyes as a pool of oily shadow oozed out from under the door.
It noticed the Custodes and turned into a mass of blades and smoke. The Custodes barely had time to block and was slowly peeled apart by the supernatural thing. The touch of the warp prevented his call from help and the Custodes resigned to his faith and prepared to die protecting the Emperor's sons. The fight finished and the shadow lurched forward for the kill and between the folds of shadow and smoke, Malcador saw something that sent a chill down his aged spine.
Peering out from the creatures heart was a face, a horribly familiar face. Its hair was black and matted with gore, the skin was waxy and dead looking. Each tooth looked jagged and fang-like and its eyes… by the Lightning Bolt, its eyes were the dead black of a ancient Carcharodon. It was a face from a forgotten future, it was the Konrad Curze of Nostromo.
The custodes was impaled and then slowly slid off the creatures blade/arms as it looked on with a sickening grin. Suddenly like a flickering hololith, it faded from being and shortly after a wild eyed child-Konrad entered the hallway and fell to his knees in horror. Softly Malcador said "I have seen enough, we must go to Konrad"
With an irate Theresa in tow, they joined the sobbing Konrad and Theresa ran to the blood soaked child and held him as Malcador quietly approached. Malcador took a dataslate form a servant and pulled up the image of the other Cruze. He set it before the shaking child and asked gently "Do you know who that is?"
A mix of fear, guilt, hate and misery passed through the young Primarch and with a trembling voice said: "He said he will kill you all if I tell him, that while father is gone none can stop him."
Placing a soft hand on Konrad's shoulder Malcador used his own formidable power to ease the child's heart and pulsed Theresa to do the same. The Sigillite continued "Your Uncle Malcador has seen and done a lot over the Millenia. The thing that is scaring you is a lie given form. It hides and ambushes those weaker than it. It barely won against a single Custodes and tried to avoid that battle. That thing can do nothing to me, your brothers or Theresa. You have my word we'll stop it from hurting anyone else."
Calming down slightly Konrad took a deep breath and said in a shuddering whisper "He came to me in dreams after Father left, I had dreamt about him before but it had been liking watching a Pictcast, this… this was really being with him. He said he was me, what I was going to become. He said I was going to become him, the Night Haunter"
Malcador was both relieved and horrified. Konrad was not born a monster but one had latched onto his soul and was hard at work corrupting him. If this being was truly what it claimed and what Malcador feared, then it would be difficult to dislodge. Konrad was taken back by Theresa to clean up and rest for the coming ordeal. The Imperial Palace was indeed haunted, haunted by a ghost of futures prevented. Now it was the duty of the Lord Sigillite to exorcise it.
A week later after vigorous preparation, Malcador returned with Eight heavily armored women who caused shivers to dance along the spine of any who got to close. These were not the Sisters of Silence, but the seeds that would grow into that mighty order. Konrad had been kept in a medicated coma for most of the week. Malcador had correctly deduced the apparition was connected to the young Primarchs dreams. The drugs used kept him from dreaming and Theresa sat by his bedside night and day soothing his transhuman mind as much as her considerable powers allowed.
Malcador entered flanked by the Eight Women and Theresa nearly jumped out of her chair and scrambled to put herself in front of her adopted child. Her psychic nature told her exactly what the Women were and she assumed the worse. "Do not hurt him Malcador! I swear on Konrads Father I will hound you to ends of the galaxy if you dare unleash… THEM on him"
The Women looked at each other a mixture of dark amusement and resignation to there nature flickered over there stoic faces and Malcador spoke. "Calm yourself my dear, they are here to protect not destroy. I do not know how strong the Warp phenomena will be and want to keep everyone safe."
Theresa Nellie relaxed at that and asked the loaded question that had plagued her for a week "What's going on and what do you intend to do?"
Somberness spread across Malcadors face as he explained. "A warp entity of remarkable power has latched onto his soul, I can not tell you the details for his safety but this being possesses a power link to Konrad within the Warp and has used him as a gate to enter our realm."
Theresa's eyebrows rose as she responded "I though even the most Psychically active Primarchs were protected from such things? The soulbond and their father's blood should protect them. How is this occurring?"
"Like I said this being possesses a incredible psychic bond with him and its peculiar nature allowed it to slip past the protections."
Malcador privately thought "It always seems to be the loophole, the webway project could survive the full might of the Four but not a Primarchs. The Primarchs warding could keep out any taint except them…"
Continuing to Theresa Malcador spoke: "This being must be exorcised to save him. I possess the power to do so but I fear it would damage him. It would be like setting fire to a building to drive out the vermin. So another solution must be reached."
He walked up to the sleeping child and placed a hand on his forehead. "I will empower him to cast it out. The Emperor made it very clear anything done to the Primarch in his absence requires both mine and there Matrari's consent. Do you?"
Frowning for a split second she quickly responded: "You are held in the Emperor's highest trust so you are in mine well."
Malcador nodded softly and reached into the Primarchs mind. A bit of biomancy removed the drugs effects, he needed to dream for this. Soon Malcador found himself somewhere dark, a filthy shadowy place he recognized from data slates long ago and the Emperors future memories. Malcador was on Nostromo: The Dark World.
He heard a slight noise and the wizened psyker strode down the streets encrusted with blood, piss, and excrement to the source of the sound. Malcador recognized it soon as a child crying and soon found a filthy child hiding in a dark alley. He recognized the features and realized the urchin covered in grime was Konrad Curze. The child looked up at him and Malcadors blood ran cold. This was not his Konrad.
Grinning sadistically a thing made of knives and shadows started to peel out of the child's skin. A wet giggle escaped its throat as it loomed over Malcador "My, my dear Father's favorite pet comes a calling! Where is the old...older man anyway? Lose his spawn again or abandon them for the good of humanity?"
Malcador mustered his psychic will and shielded himself from the being's corrosive power before responding harshly "You know as well as I do you only dared to rear your feted head with him off-world. Ever the coward aren't you Cruze?"
The Thing chuckled mirthlessly "Oh I am not Konrad, he is long gone. He took the assassin's blade in a pitiable attempt to earn forgiveness. Me, I took the blade to vindicate what we had always said. That the Imperium was made by murder and despite its lofty goals would still need us or things like us."
Snarling softly Malcador raised his staff and let it flair with power as spoke "So the rumors were true, this planet broke you into two. Konrad Curze rests with that Emperor's light. It is time to send the Night Haunter back to the pit it belongs"
Before the first blows could be struck a blast of dust and silver exploded before them, the Night Haunter recoiled and a hand-pulled Malcador away from it. The old man could barely keep up with the frantic child who pulled him through side streets until they reached a filth stained version of Konrads room in reality. Malcador had been brought into the Eight primarchs hiding place within his own mind.
The frantic child started speaking impossibly quickly "UNCLE MALCADOR YOU CAN"T BEAT HIM NOTHING WORKS HE JUST COMES BACK THE NIGHT HAUNTER ALWAYS COMES BACK"
Malcador calmed the child and said, "Yes you are correct Konrad I can not defeat him, but you can."
Konrad was dumbstruck before Malcador continued "That thing is a parasite latched onto your mind. It is powerful but it is your mind and you control it. Right now you are too young and inexperienced to beat it. Yet I am old and experienced. I will give you all the tools needed to remove it and you will save yourself Konrad."
Panic and confusion momentarily blossomed over the Eight Primarchs face but he was his Father's son and resolution soon filled him. Nodding slowly he agreed and Malcador placed his hand on Konrads forehead. A Blast of energy shook the dream scape and where once had stood a young Konrad and a elderly Malcador was a single being. A Primarch in his prime empowered by ancient knowledge. A future Konrad Cruze, the Primarch of the Shadow Scions came into being.
The form was created from a mix of Konrads own dreams, Malcadors foresight and the Emperors ideal. If the Nighthaunter was the worst the Eighth Primarch could be, then this was the best. Konrad piloted the dream-form and was shocked by the countless techniques and powers available to him from Malcadors mind. Konrad did not know this but the Grand Master of Assassins had millenia ago earned that future title not simply in loyalty and authority, but wetwork skills.
Now two Primarchs, one form the best future and one from the worst stood across from each other. A King of the Night versus a Nightmare given flesh. In a dreamscape of a Nostromo alley, two demigods batteled. Monofilament blades filled the air, crackling talons shredded armor and flesh. They both held psychic mastery of the darkness, and it seemed the very night itself battled over who would be its rightful master.
For hours and seconds, they ripped at each other with countless weapons both mental and physical. The Night Haunter spat insults, curses and taunts the entire while. "Your Father will cast you aside like he did us! You are already broken, and he has no use for broken tools! I am going to crawl out of your skin and force feed that mother dearest of yours her own entrails! Everyone knows the tragedy of poor Konrad Curze, how he was too weak and let his inner Demons swallow him whole, now it's time for a second meal!"
Konrad remained silent the entire fight as sparks flew and blood splattered across the increasingly ruined alleyway. They were evenly matched, neither side could gain an advantage and it seemed the fight was doomed to end with Konrad cracking under the strain of wielding a mixture of his and Malcadors power. Suddenly a thought from Malcador whispered a path to victory.
Running low he clinched his doppelganger and simply whispered a simple phrase into the broken things face. "There was another way, you just had to try."
The Night Haunter looked like a lighting claw had been driven into it with those words. A moment later two had been. The split second was all it took for Konrad to impale the monster and start to shred it apart. The Eighth son spat into the Night Haunters face and said "You are a sad, pathetic thing, bound by strings of fate easily cut and unable to become what you were meant to be. The Night Haunter of Nostromo is dead, you hold no power over me. Be gone from here filth"
The Night Haunter started to shatter like burnt glass on Konrads Claws and the fading monster rasped. "I have a message from the four to father."
Malcador snarled internally, of course, they were behind this. The Night Haunter was never a favored servant of there's but after being ripped away from the original Curze this more twisted version of the Eight Primarch found a place within the great game.
The Quickly cracking Night haunter gave the message "We have claimed countless of your spawn, Anathema. One universe of temporary salvation will fall before the infinites of damnation."
With that, the Night Haunter exploded into black glass with a psychotic laugh and was banished. Malcador and Konrad separated. The Child was stunned but confident. The monster that stalked his mind was banished. He had beat it once, he could beat it again. Malcador placed a hand on Konrads shoulder and pulled them both back into reality. On the way, Malcador tweaked Konrads memory. Somethings were best left forgotten and others were not for Konrad to know yet.
They both awoke back into the med-room and the Eight Blanks went to immediate battle stations. With a gesture in thought-mark, they were put at ease. Konrad awoke to find Theresa passed out next to his bed. He gently shook her awake and she embraced him with tears in her eyes. When she asked what happened Konrad simply smiled and said "I beat the Monster, it's gone. He won't hurt anyone again"
Malcador left the duo with the Sisters and watched the 19/20 other Primarchs pile into the room to check in on their sibling. Over the next few months, Konrad would grow leaps and bounds into one of the greatest of his brothers. His Daemons were banished and the King of the Night was poised to take his throne. Yet new worries wracked the Sigilites aged bones. The Four were plotting, they may have saved these heroes-to-be but other fallen princes of the Imperium awaited to fulfill the will of thirsting gods.