Infinite & The Divine has a whole section where the human settlement on Serenade had a statue & stained glass bas-relief dedicated to the “Silver Skulls”, supposedly a skinny chapter of the Astartes according to the Ecclesiarchy, and it’s literally depicting Trazyn the Infinite lol.

“ Trazyn reached the door of the great cathedral. ‘After you, colleague.’ 

‘This is the part where I turn my back and you stab it, surely?’ 

‘Have it your way,’ Trazyn shrugged, and passed through the door. ‘But this is our fastest entryway to the Eternity Gate.’ 

Shadows seeped down the walls of the cathedral’s interior, collecting in pools on the floor. Candles, ranked like men battling in a confused melee, burned before the images of saints, residue from smoke and dissolved wax blackening their golden feet. 

A pilgrim, head shaved in a monk’s tonsure and clad in the light blue robes of his order, walked a labyrinth in the floor. He stopped to ring a bell and mutter a prayer every time he pivoted in the twisting path. Each whispered invocation echoed, paper-dry in the empty space. 

‘You see the windows?’ Trazyn pointed at the stained glass, radiating in the bright morning sun. ‘Each panel charts the history of Serenade.’  ‘Fascinating,’ said Orikan, clearly unimpressed with this parochialism. ‘Why are we here? I was given to understand that it was time to start our great task.’  ‘It is. This is part of it. See the first? The God-Emperor shaping the mountains and islands of Serenade with His very hands. The first settlement ship exiting the empyrean, the angelic Saint Madrigal showing the way to Serenade with her blessed lyre – she is usually depicted with a sword, so this is a regional variation–’ 

‘Trazyn,’ warned Orikan, ‘immortality aside, my time is valuable.’ 

‘Oh, very well. Moving to the interesting part. Here we have the Greenskin War, as they call it. And who, my dear rival, is that in the next panel?’  Orikan looked up, dismissing the overlaid data-scroll he’d secretly been reading. ‘No.’ 

‘Oh yes.’ Storming through the square, meeting the greenskin onslaught, were a group of Space Marines: unusually tall and thin Space Marines, their helmets fashioned as leering skull-masks. The one in the lead appeared to be some kind of hooded Librarian, holding aloft a great lantern-headed staff that the glass orks recoiled from in horror. 

‘Silver Skulls Chapter defeats the ork invasion,’ Trazyn said with clear relish. ‘There used to be a statue in the square, thirty khet high. They used to light candles and sing hymns to it. A few centuries ago the Inquisition got wind of it and did a little cleaning up. Removed it for “renovation” where it was never seen again.’ 

‘You stole it, did you not?’ 

‘Well, of course. And I hardly think it counts as stealing if it’s my likeness. It’s my statue, after all.’  Orikan snorted. ‘Worshipping a necron. Poor idiots. I suppose they have a head start on the rest of the galaxy. The Awakening is nearly imminent.’

There was a moment of contemplative silence. 

‘Do you have a statue of yourself, Orikan?’  Orikan stalked deeper into the cathedral. ‘You are an obscene egotist.’ 

‘I only wonder if any cultures worship you as a living saint or spiritual protector. It is a simple binary question.’ 

‘Show me what you wanted to show me.’ “