The Night Haunter would be resolute where his brothers had fallen. Rogal Dorn had been tempted by something called Dungeons and Dragons, and Pertuabo had fallen due to an unlimited supply of Lego. Fulgrim had fallen for a Steve Mcqueen suit, but there was nothing that could tempt the Night Haunter.
Angron had devoured blood, but there was nothing that could tempt the lord and commander of the Night Lords Legion. Or at least, that was what Konrad Curze had believed, until Horus Lupercal vistied him on Nostramno one fine evening.
"Horus, my brother. Come to tempt me with things I do not need?" Curze raised an eyebrow.
Horus, using the tactic that had swayed Pertuabo, whispered in the Night his brother's right ear, before both legions, who stood with bolter and blade trained on each other.
"What's that you say?" the Night Haunter frowned, and watched in awe, as several hundred thousand, real-life Batmobiles were driven off the landing pad by the Sons of Horus, each one parking at the feet of a Night Lord. "No. You try to tempt me with your real life Batmobiles but nothing will ever sway me from my father, traitor."
"There's more," protested the Warmaster, and pointed behind the Night Haunter. "Look. Tell me what do you see."
"First Edition Batman Comics," the Primarch smiled. "Every singe one. And... what is that? Is that what I think it is?... A proper, Batman suit... for me?"
"You've won me over, Horus - you bastard," smiled the Night Haunter. "Batmobiles for every single warrior in my legion, including myself... How could I turn that offer down?"
Horus smiled. Now, he would head to an old friend of his.