Night Lords Quotes

“Do you truly believe I care what happens to any of you after my death?”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus

“I am a seer, and I know the path of the future is darkened by choices yet unmade”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus

“Taint. He reeked of taint. Talos let the man stare into the impassive skulled face of his helm for several more beats of his panicked, mortal heart. Let the fear build. The words of his gene-father, the teachings of the VIII Legion: Show the prey what the predator can do. Show that death is near. The prey will be in your thrall.”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus

“Please,’ the man wept, ‘please don’t kill me.’ Through his helm’s olfactory receptors, Talos scented the cloying incense on the mortal’s robes, and the sour reek of his breath. He was infected with… something. Something within his body. A cancer, perhaps, eating at his lungs… Taint. He reeked of taint. Talos let the man stare into the impassive skulled face of his helm for several more beats of his panicked, mortal heart. Let the fear build. The words of his gene-father, the teachings of the VIII Legion: Show the prey what the predator can do. Show that death is near. The prey will be in your thrall. ‘Do you wish to join your friends in death?’ he snapped, knowing his helm’s speakers turned the threat into a mechanical bark. ‘No, please. Please. Please.’ Talos shivered involuntarily. Begging. He had always found begging particularly repulsive, even as a child in the street gangs of Atra Hive on Nostramo. To reveal that level of weakness to another being… With a feral snarl, he pulled the man’s weeping, pleading face against the cold front of his helm. Tears glistened on the ceramite. Talos felt his armour’s machine-spirit roil at the new sensation, like a river serpent thrashing in deep”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus

“Let's end this. I was bored of being alive, anyway.”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus

“The tech-priest was another matter entirely. He seemed to be paying little heed to the Night Lords, occupying himself with drifting around their sanctum, an iron ghoul in whispering robes, examining curios and spare parts for their armour.”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus

“I have never been granted access to a Legiones Astartes armoury chamber before,’ he noted with tinny interest. ‘Such intriguing disorder.’ The tech-adept stood as tall as the warriors, though stick-thin by comparison. He arched over Maruc’s desk, seemingly occupied by pushing a hand-held thermal counter across the wood, the way a child might nudge a dead pet to see if it still breathed. ‘This is broken,’ Deltrian observed to the rest of the room. When no one replied, he deployed digital micro-tools from his fingertips and began to repair it.”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus

“I recall no such dream,’ he told the Apothecary. ‘It was months ago. You have been slipping for a long time, but the rate of degeneration is accelerating. Focus on this fact, Talos: you wanted to sail back into these skies. Now we are here. Now those same humans you dreamed of crawl into the earth, weak and weaponless, wailing that we have returned. And even as you fulfil your desire, you are still hollow, still void of memory. You are breaking apart, Talos. Fracturing, if you will. Why are we here, brother? Focus. Think. Tell me. Why?’ ‘I do not remember.’ Variel’s reply was to strike him. The blow came from nowhere, the back of the Apothecary’s gauntlet smashing backhanded into the side of Talos’s face. ‘I did not ask you to remember. I asked you to use your gods-damned mind, Talos. Think. If you cannot recall, then work out the answer from what you know of yourself. You brought us here. Why? What benefit is there? How does it serve us?’ The prophet spat acidic saliva onto the floor. When he turned back to Variel, a viperous smile played across his pale, bloody lips. He didn’t strike back. He did nothing but smile with bleeding gums. ‘Thank you,’ he said as the moment passed. ‘Your point is taken.’ Variel nodded. ‘I had hoped it would be.’ He met the prophet’s dark eyes. ‘I apologise for striking you.’ ‘I deserved it.’ ‘You did. However, I still apologise.’ ‘I said it is fine, brother. No apology is necessary.’ Variel nodded again. ‘If that is the case, would you ask the others to cease aiming their weapons at me?”
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden, Night Lords: The Omnibus