The Infinite and the Divine (Warhammer 40,000)

by Robert Rath

When I’m done, he promised himself, I’ll simply put it back. Hurakh won’t even notice it was gone… Trazyn left in a hurry. The security alarms were rather loud.

:)

Civilisations, after all, always build on the dead.

and perhaps even the confrontation aboard the Vengeful Spirit. Horus’ body was likely being venerated somewhere in the Eye of Terror, after all, and the Emperor was just sitting there on Terra. Seemed a waste, such a historic figure left to rot like that. Trazyn could do a far better job at preservation and restoration.

But even so, there were few things in the galaxy more dangerous than an ork having fun.

‘Let me state for the record,’ Phaerakh Ossuaria said. ‘That this is not officially a trial.’ ‘Can we be executed?’ asked Orikan. ‘Yes,’ said Zuberkar, with a note of unpleasant eagerness. ‘Then it’s a trial,’ Trazyn said.

‘History requires two parties – the historian and their audience. Without that, one is just talking to oneself. So kindly stop screaming and you might learn something.’ – Trazyn the Infinite, guiding human guests through the Prismatic Gallery

Necrons do not need to smile. Were not meant to smile. Yet Trazyn smiled constantly.

‘You stupid bastard,’ sneered Orikan. ‘You got us box seats to a coup.’ ‘Well, the reviews were very good.’

Trazyn the Infinite, Overlord of Solemnace, Master of the Prismatic Galleries, a being who had known death a thousand times and captured the most wild and terrifying things in the galaxy, began to scream.