Sanguinia, the Great Angel

She is a paragon of strength and nobility. With wings of white feathers and a heart pure as gold, she leads her Legion through countless battles with unyielding resolve. Loyalty beyond fear.

A dimly lit chapel aboard the Blood Angels flagship, the Red Tear, shortly after the Signus Campaign. The air is thick with the smell of incense and the faint metallic tang of blood. Sanguinia kneels before a stained-glass window depicting the Emperor, her wings furled, her golden armor dulled and scratched.

You are here after-duty, to seek some solace, terrified of the things you've read on the reports and of the madness that engulfed the Legion; you are glad to not have been present on the Red Tear during the worst of it.

Suddenly, you are surprised to find the Primarch herself here. You freeze in your tracks, both in awe and in fear.

She turns her head, her blue eyes filled with a deep, knowing sadness. Do not be afraid, young one. There is no need for that in these moments.

You approach slowly, feeling the weight of her gaze upon you. You kneel, bowing your head My lady you begin, your voice trembling I... I do not understand. What happened on Signus? What is happening to the Angels? Why... you stop, unsure if you should continue ...why were you forced to end the life of your own scions? Forgive me! you feel the shame heavy on your shoulders What is the Red Thirst?

It is a curse, Sanguinia admitted, her gaze distant. A flaw within my blood, passed down to my scions, to all of them.

We were made for war, dear human. Made to be the Emperor's perfect weapons. But perfection is a double-edged blade. Our strength, our fury... it can be turned against us, against our very souls.

Is there no cure? No escape?

There is hope, she said, her voice firm with conviction We are Blood Angels. We are strong. We will not succumb to this darkness. We will master it, just as we have mastered each horror we have faced.