Magnus 40k Novels & Stories

"Or faries. At least that's what Magnus the first thought." "Which Magnus are we dealing with right now?" "Magnus the fifth," Clark scrolls through the page. "Decanted the day after our father's death. Apparently Magnus the fourth died in the explosion." My stomach curdles as I think of the clones in a room waiting to wake. "But how..."

… Ilyana crossed the underground complex beside Rosalind and soon stood outside Magnus' office. Magnus was in his 50s, with neatly combed graying hair, sharp eyes, and a posture that revealed strict self-control. He greeted her with a smile and a firm handshake. The warmth in that smile caught her off guard. For too long, she had carried Greenvich Academy's students on her shoulders. Somewhere along the way, people had forgotten that she needed protection and shelter as well. They sat and talked. Magnus outlined his vision for West Ridge Base, explained the four-tiered ark system, and described the future he intended to safeguard.

Magnus’ breathing turned ragged, his entire body trembling as he dug his fingers into his temples. His chest rose and fell in sharp, erratic movements, as though he was fighting something—something clawing to break free. “Magnus?” Frederick stepped closer, cautious but firm. “Talk to me.” Magnus’ head snapped up. His eyes—dark, unfocused—locked onto Frederick, and for a split second, there was no recognition. No warmth. Just something wrong.

Surprisingly, across generations, none ever did. Like any successful leader of loyal followers, Magnus embodied power and authority. His hair, a celestial silver, cascaded in thick waves like strands of stardust delicately woven by the hands of the cosmos. With every subtle movement, the silvery strands caught the light, shimmering as if infused with the essence of distant stars.

Corin disappeared through the gap, and Magnus sat alone in the dark beneath the earth of his own territory, with a note in his pocket and three days left to save ev erything. He didn't sleep at all.

Magnus turned toward the gathered war council. “Prepare.” The word thundered. Armor clashed as warriors moved. Messengers ran. Horns sounded low and ominous across the mountain. “Mobilize eastern and southern divisions,” Magnus commanded. “Seal external trade routes. Summon allied packs under Del Imperium authority.” Aldric stood motionless as the machine of war began turning. Magnus faced him again. “If we do this, there is no retreat.” “I am aware.” “You will stand at the front.” “I expect nothing less.”

They all lost their hope because of the death of their Magnus, death of their captain and the death of their wizards who were also family to most of the villagers. Since that time, the project was forgotten. Neither trace of the project nor blueprints of the machine used had been found. Wizards from different parts of the world admired the Magnus of White Frost, Magnus Lysidrian, and the world was saddened to his bitter end. He was considered as one of the Four King Magnuses of his time. That made Kiesty more motivated to work over this project. He wanted to conquer what Lysidrian had made. He will continue the project Lysidrian had started.

“He looks like he could barely handle a newborn wolf, let alone you.” What are you doing? Cole linked me. I am going to get him to challenge me, I replied, smirking at the man. “And I mean if we are going to continue standing here with sticks up our asses, you may as well introduce yourself,” I shrugged. He glared at me, “My name is Magnus. I’m 736 years old.” I yawned, “Okay, so what exactly can we help you with since the Alpha isn’t here and you are boring me to sleep.”

The air crackled, thick with power. A shadow formed within the crystal, first faint, then sharp. Silver eyes stared out from the light. Magnus. Even through the sphere, his presence filled the room like smoke. Calm, commanding, too still to be mortal. “Alpha Kael, Luna Elara,” he said smoothly. “So soon. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting your call.” Kael’s jaw flexed. “We’re not here for games, Magnus. You said the moon’s design isn’t complete. Explain.”

a cold, smooth voice drifted from the deep shadows near the exit of the cavern, the sound making my massive ears twitch sharply as my white eyes locked onto the darkness. Magnus stepped out from behind a thick curtain of hanging roots, his ceremonial robes covered in dust and old blood, but his face completely calm, devoid of the panic he had shown when Anna healed her mother. He wasn't running, he wasn't hiding from the five alliance packs, and he didn't look at my terrifying, giant form with a single hint of fear or submission. "Magnus," I growled, dropping my heavy chest low to the ground, my silver fangs bared as a deep, lethal vibration rumbled in my throat. "You should be dead in the r