'The Flaying of Vaya'teke'
[...] Guilliman's lids dragged open. It felt like the very atmosphere of the room was trying to keep them closed, to keep his mind shielded against what he might perceive.
Across the room his father's holy light was a vicious and twisting bonfire, bending back in on itself as if reaching for the fuel of the two figures silhouetted in it. Guilliman could not stand to look at the light long enough to make out fine details, but he could see the un-shadow of the Emperor. Under His outstretched hand, there was a dark thrashing smear, unable to get purchase on smoke-stained white marble. It kicked its legs pathetically, writhing like a grub knocked off a branch.
Father! it screamed. Its howl pierced the vacuum in Guilliman's ears. I'm burning! Please!
Guilliman swung a hand out to steady himself. He wanted to turn away from the spectacle before him, as the (familiar?) echoes of the scream trickled cold down his spine, but something pushed him towards it instead- a physical force, twitching powerfully like an animal. Dorn, to his right. His teeth were clenched like seized gears, and his sclera were stained red.
Sputum pooled under Guilliman's tongue. He reached up to cover his mouth. It seemed as though the Emperor's halo was afflicted with wriggling things that struggled to break free of His power, like parasites maturing into the air. Guilliman might have been able to stand even despite this horror- everything in his body was telling him to- but Dorn was here.
Dorn was watching, and Dorn's fingers held onto his arm so tight that he might shatter the port implanted into Guilliman's bicep.
They were looking at the same thing. It was real.
