[This is, of course, a lie.]
[A benevolent, or perhaps less malicious lie; it is something that must exist, or rather, has to exist, even if no one truly likes it.]
[After all, in this absurd galaxy, there are always some people whose desire is not for the truth, but for the illusions and obscurities they wish to come true in their hearts.]
[Truth will not bring them joy, reason will not win their approval. The only confidant they have is an unconditional endorsement of their own prejudiced thoughts.]
[And unfortunately, among my blood brothers, there are such figures.]
[Arrogance.]
[Obsession.]
[Ignorance.]
[Tragedy.]
——————
The Blade Storm remained behind the light of the star, and with it, the entire fleet of the Fifth Legion, all hidden in unnoticed corners. If one didn't specifically look, even an Astartes would subconsciously overlook them.
They were like hidden beasts in the galactic shadows, securely entrenched in their desolation, carelessly throwing all glory to the Death Guard army, as if the great honor constantly pursued throughout the Imperium were merely pebbles delaying their progress.
As the White Scars Legion's only flagship and spiritual symbol, the Blade Storm perfectly embodied all its master's concepts. Whether it was the warp engine or the unique propulsion acceleration system,
these were features unseen on other Gloriana-class Battleships: It is said that when this battleship's keel and deck were first laid in the shipyards of Mars, its specifications were no different from most of its sister ships. That was until Jaghatai Khan specifically visited the domain of the Mechanicum to inspect his personal vessel.
It is said that after reviewing the battleship's data, the enigmatic Primarch uncharacteristically flew into a rage. Under his most intense and unshakable will, this Gloriana-class Battleship, belonging to the Fifth Legion and Jaghatai, underwent drastic modifications:
various unique alterations and new technologies, even some less mature ones, were all applied to this warship. Ultimately, at the cost of some advantages in other areas, the Fifth Legion's Gloriana became the undisputed Swift Hawk of the void. Its speed, maneuverability, and responsiveness were unparalleled among its sister ships.
After repeatedly confirming this, the White Scars' gene-father finally accepted this flagship, unique to his Legion, with satisfaction. Embellishments from the steppes, the wild winds, and the endless sky quickly adorned every corner of the Blade Storm. The sons of Chogoris decorated their flagship with their heritage and wisdom.
Although to outsiders, this battleship, filled with totems, short bows, and simplified colors, was merely another barbarian's nest, Jaghatai Khan's warriors chose to laugh off such disdain. Their profound wisdom, eloquence, and cultivation were reserved only for true guests who could discern them.
But for now, such guests were few and far between, so much so that in Jaghatai's void-khanate, emptiness and loneliness became the sole themes. The Great Khan of Chogoris sat upon his throne, draped in beast pelts, surrounded by the empty Kingdom of Wind. Only his most trusted kin and dearest friend, Yesugei, stood by his side, listening to his words.
"Great Khan, do you mean that Lord Horus's attitude may not be simple?"
[Indeed, my Cthonian brother possesses a unique ability: he can always perfectly combine everyone's interests with his own. His attitude cannot even be described with simple words like loyalty or rebellion, because his interests already transcend personal honor or disgrace. In a sense, he has chosen to merge his destiny with the rise and fall of the Imperium, and he is diligently working to achieve this.]
[In many instances, he has succeeded in making Horus's interests synonymous with the Imperium's interests. He has gained additional power through this path, and he has proven himself capable of bearing and wielding such a heavy burden, ensuring the Imperium's interests are best protected and expanded under his mighty claws.]
[And now, it is merely another attempt by my brother.]
[He always stands on the side of truth, and thus, he is invincible.]
Yesugei remained silent. He neither immediately agreed with his gene-father's words nor was he instantly amazed by the Warmaster's cunning. He began a necessary but rare act for an Astartes: detaching from his gene-father's statements and thinking independently.
This close friend of Jaghatai, the de facto second-in-command of the Fifth Legion, now bowed his head, his beard swaying in the air.
Yesugei was not an overly young warrior. In fact, he was the Khan's childhood friend, a valiant general who had accompanied the Lord of the White Scars for decades, a wise Shaman who had mastered numerous psychic arts even before becoming an Astartes.
When he finally decided to follow Jaghatai and become an Astartes, he was well past the age limit for the augmentation surgery. Yet, this wise warrior survived the almost impossible operation through sheer force of will, continuing to serve by the Khan's side as a reliable confidant who could think independently at any time.
And finally, this most esteemed son of the Great Khan of Chogoris merely shook his head, uttering a brief denial.
"It's too easy, my lord."
"Everything in this world has its own value. Choosing something means bearing its consequences. With all due respect, Lord Horus's vision is indeed beautiful, but his current convenience is bound to bring future suffering. And what's worse, he has no idea what form this suffering will take."
[Hence, my brother often appears somewhat anxious.]
The Khan was not angered by this blunt denial. On the contrary, he watched his son, his comrade, proudly as he presented his own thoughts.
[In most cases, and in most domains, Horus is undoubtedly a brilliant sun. He is even more luminous and magnanimous than the brooding red giant on Terra, exuding a convincing and sincere aura. This is why I chose him; the Warmaster indeed possesses a compelling power.]
[But this is not the entirety of the situation. My brother also has his weaknesses and petty concerns. When matters involve power, status, and his Legion, and his unique position in the heart of our gene-father, he becomes uneasy, revealing a lack of confidence and an arrogant mindset. He meticulously observes everyone, ensuring that he can surpass the vast majority in all important aspects, ensuring he can be the best overall.]
[He even worries, worries about certain excellent or powerful brothers: Lion El'Jonson, Dorn, Sanguinius... oh, and that ambitious Guilliman.]
[That is his true, inner thought: he is an anxious heir in a family, constantly worried that he will be surpassed or replaced. He fears losing his status, and even more, he fears losing the attention and love bestowed upon him.]
[He is always too concerned with what he has gained, so much so that he hasn't realized his hands can no longer hold more.]
[But even so, he remains a lovable fellow, a warrior absolutely loyal to the great cause of humanity. In the face of his genuine emotions and nobility, his petty concerns are insignificant. When the true test comes, he will uphold his true self.]
[In this insane galaxy, Horus's radiance is a magnificent power, almost extravagant. Therefore, I choose to stand on his side. At the very least, he is a rising sun, and within his heart burns a flame filled with sacrifice and passion.]
[As long as these noble emotions still beat within him, Horus will never become the person I despise.]
[He is worthy of our expectation, trust, and allegiance.]
——————
[I am always forcing myself, Sejanus, my child, my dear friend. I do not wish to deceive you on these matters.]
[I am striving, I am fighting, I am doing everything possible to become that great figure worthy of expectation, trust, and allegiance.]
[I must do this.]
[I have no other choice.]
Deep within the Unbending Truth, in the largest and most luxurious room Mortarion had specially reserved for his best brother, Horus stood at the center of the room. His face was immersed in a grave sigh, revealing a faint cloud of melancholy that was almost uncharacteristic of the Warmaster.
The room was splendid, even extravagant. The Pale King of Barbarus revered the Warmaster from the bottom of his heart, considering him his best brother. Therefore, when Horus decided to stay on the Fourteenth Legion's Gloriana-class Battleship, Mortarion felt no offense at his territory being encroached upon; instead, he felt a unique intimacy and honor. He departed from his usual simple style, dedicating himself to creating a sufficiently magnificent and noble room to befit his most esteemed brother.
But in Horus's eyes, everything in this room was too extravagant. The Pale King had indiscriminately piled together a multitude of beautiful objects, which ironically destroyed their individual unique appeal. Horus had witnessed how the Blood Tear and the Emperor's Pride adorned their corridors and halls, and his horizons had been broadened. Everything on the Unbending Truth, to him, was filled with a certain... rustic charm.
Fortunately, this unremarkable environment actually eased his mind. The Warmaster was able to freely vent the pent-up frustration in his chest. His gaze wandered between his two sons: Sejanus was diligently listening and analyzing, while the mighty Abaddon's eyes had entered a state best described as "blank."
The Warmaster looked at his First Captain's distracted gaze and felt a sense of reassurance.
So, he turned his head to his most trusted son.
[Sejanus, my child, I hope to receive an answer from you.]
[What kind of person do you think that psychic master, the Soul Drinker, truly is?]
The Shadow Moon Wolves remained silent for a moment.
"Father, on this matter, I actually lean more towards Lord Jaghatai's judgment."
[His judgment? A Primarch? A new blood brother of mine?]
"Lord Jaghatai never said that, Father. His inference is that Lady Morgana is a... 'creation' of the Emperor."
"The Emperor not only molded you, but he also created the Custodian Guard, and other things we may not know about. In other words, if the Great Emperor could create individuals like the Custodian Guard, who possess no psychic power whatsoever, then it is theoretically entirely feasible for him to create an individual completely suffused with psychic power and entrust them to the First Legion."
The Warmaster was silent, his gaze disappearing into the endless void through the dim floor-to-ceiling window.
[You are right, Sejanus. Jaghatai's inference makes sense, but I still feel worried, I feel troubled. When he said 'a creation of my father,' my first reaction was of a new Primarch.]
Horus lowered his head, his voice as fleeting as a summer breeze, which made Sejanus raise an eyebrow. He still didn't quite understand why his gene-father was so... wary of a new Primarch.
——————
[Because of conflicting interests.]
Morgana chuckled softly. Across from her was Semiramis, visiting again, a psychic afterimage of her and a tree hollow.
"Interests?"
The listener tilted her head, and Morgana's reply was only more, emotionless smiles.
[Yes, interests.]
[Of course, this is merely my personal conjecture and speculation. Perhaps our Warmaster is, by chance, a selfless individual?]
Semiramis's pupils were still clouded with confusion. Her wisdom contained only the knowledge Morgana had imparted for planetary governance; she knew nothing of galactic affairs.
And facing her own afterimage, the Spider Lady's mood improved slightly.
[To date, looking across the entire Human Imperium, only five Primarchs have yet to return. That means, openly, there are still five Legions without their commanders.]
[Aside from my Second Legion, there is also the Eighth Legion, engrossed in terror tactics, the Twelfth Legion, known as the War Hounds, the notorious Nineteenth Legion of slavers, and the most mysterious and unfathomable Twentieth Legion.]
[And if Horus believed Jaghatai's statement—their entire discussion was heard by me, in fact. Jaghatai only suspected I was a creation of the Emperor, while Horus was eager to deny I was a Primarch.]
[Why is that?]
"...Why?"
[It's simple. Because a psyker would clearly not be the Primarch of the Eighth or Twelfth Legions. Besides that, among the remaining three Legions, the Second and Nineteenth Legions are now both under Horus's command, aren't they?]
[Especially my sons, my Legion. Do you know what they call my Legion?]
[The best auxiliary Legion.]
[How could Horus tolerate losing the aid of these Legions so unexpectedly?]
[Of course, this doesn't mean he would try to seize these Legions. But while the Primarchs have not returned, expanding his influence within these Legions, even to the point of turning the returning Primarchs themselves into allies within his inner circle.]
[For our Warmaster, this is no difficult task.]
[So, as long as I do not officially return to the Imperium, he will not officially acknowledge me. But wait, overtures and rapprochement will follow. I look forward to seeing what methods he will employ.]
[After all, regardless of whether I am a true Primarch or not, he will try to win me over. Whether to augment his power or expand his network of contacts, the Warmaster tirelessly pursues these goals.]
Semiramis blinked. She neither gasped nor smiled; she simply retorted.
"Are you sure your guesses and deductions are correct?"
[A guess, by its very nature, isn't about being right or wrong; it's just a guess. Perhaps, somewhere I don't know, the Warmaster has a completely different agenda?]
[However, no matter what he thinks or how he perceives me, I don't care. Because for me, what's truly important now is to kill the psychic xenos interfering with our journey, and get back to the front lines quickly.]
[More than Horus's intentions, I am more concerned about the battle situation with Lion El'Jonson.]
Semiramis nodded. She silently searched her limited wisdom for new questions.
"Then, if Horus truly tries to win you over, what will you choose?"
[Choose? Is there a need to choose? Becoming a member of Horus's inner circle is not entirely a bad thing for me, is it?]
"But you are already a member of Caliban's circle. How will you join Horus's circle?"
[Oh...]
[That will be Horus's and Lion El'Jonson's problem to worry about.]
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