When the Emperor of Mankind, on his Imperator Somnium, personally told his most beloved son, Horus, that he also had an unexpected sister, he already had a plan: to let Horus guide and educate this newly returned Primarch.
Lion El'Jonson was not suitable for this task, and most of the Emperor of Mankind's other progeny lacked the corresponding experience and patience. Fulgrim might have been willing to guide a blood kin,
but his performance could not inspire complete confidence. Sanguinius might have been more trustworthy and reliable than most of his brothers, but his attitude towards the Emperor of Mankind was far from intimate.
As for the other Primarchs, they certainly had the ability to do their best, but they also had a greater chance of messing things up.
As for keeping Morgana by his side, teaching her personally like Horus, Magnus, or Vulkan; or showing goodwill and building bonds like Leman Russ, Ferrus Manus, and Mortarion: the Emperor of Mankind was not without such ability, but he no longer had the inclination or leisure to repeat these tender charades with Morgana and the other Primarchs who had yet to return.
Whether it was Morgana now, or the Primarchs of the Eighth, Twelfth, and Nineteenth Legions who would follow her, they were destined not to receive a more affectionate father-son reunion. They had not arrived at a good time; the last vestiges of tenderness in the Emperor of Mankind's heart had been consumed by increasingly heavy wars and trivial matters.
In the seventy-plus Terra Standard Years before Morgana's return, apart from Alpharius who remained in a clandestine state, the Emperor of Mankind had publicly welcomed back fifteen of his children. He tried his best to maintain an intimate attitude with each returning progeny:
He accompanied Horus for thirty full years, he left Leman Russ with humorous contests and the Spear of Dionysus, he bestowed upon Fulgrim the honor of the Imperial Aquila, he had long conversed deeply with Magnus,
his appreciation for Dorn was evident, he personally guided Vulkan, his duel with Ferrus Manus leveled several mountain ranges, he guided King of Connaught to find Guilliman in his swaddling clothes,
he tolerated Sanguinius's mutation and transgression, he ignored Jaghatai Khan's dissatisfaction with the Tyrant, he entrusted the most important wars to Lion El'Jonson,
he disregarded the strange rumors about Mengel, he personally accompanied the resentful Mortarion to choose weapons, and he even endured being mistaken for a god, observing a month-long parade of divine worship on Lorgar's homeworld.
Throughout this long period, he had indeed released his goodwill to the greatest extent possible, even if it sometimes did not receive very positive feedback. Sanguinius, Jaghatai Khan, and the garrulous Mortarion always had reasons for dissatisfaction, which made him feel daily exhaustion and weariness from this tender theatrical performance.
Especially after the incident involving Mengel and his legion, it was like a final tender straw, causing a thread of patience in the Emperor's heart to snap completely…
…
Wait.
Had he forgotten something?
…Never mind, it probably wasn't important.
——————
All in all, with most of the Primarchs returned and the Great Crusade fully on track, the Emperor no longer needed to forge more bonds with new sons. Moreover, among those who had yet to return, there were truly no special individuals, like a clover, who required his focused care.
In this situation, the Emperor's gaze involuntarily shifted to Horus.
Horus always made the Emperor of Mankind feel at ease. Warmaster Horus might not achieve perfection, but he would certainly never allow things to go disappointingly. As long as he preserved this precious quality, he was worthy of the Emperor of Mankind entrusting him with anything.
In many matters, Horus was not the most outstanding choice, but he was definitely a versatile and foolproof one. In the Emperor's heart, this was what his most excellent progeny should be.
Furthermore, in matters of leading his blood kin, Horus had already proven his success. Fulgrim, Sanguinius, and Jaghatai Khan had all gradually come to understand the Imperium by following Warmaster Horus's footsteps.
Presumably, Morgana would not cause any additional errors. She was much more obedient than Sanguinius was when he first returned.
As for Lion El'Jonson's attitude, in the Emperor's understanding, his son from Caliban was a calm and aloof knight. He preferred to remain alone in his castle, surrounded by subservient knights. To force such a solitary progeny to fight alongside his blood kin for so long was already a torment, and Lion El'Jonson must surely be yearning for those quiet days.
Everyone had their own preferences and inherent responsibilities. Even the Emperor did not wish to forcibly violate this. Horus, who was eager to forge new friendships, was naturally more suited to the responsibility of accompanying new blood kin than the quiet Lion El'Jonson. As for the small bit of selfishness in his beloved Warmaster's heart…
Let him be.
It was nothing more than a common human desire for power and gain. Since the Emperor of Mankind himself did not cling to the so-called throne and power, how bad could Horus's small ambitions and greed truly be?
As soon as the Emperor of Mankind completed his lengthy task list, he would easily resolve these issues, including the budding conflict between his Warmaster and his Sigillite. The Emperor was not some mundane monarch who reveled in the squabbles of his subordinates. He genuinely wished for his last old friend to receive due praise and respect, but he simply had no time right now.
Bear with it for now.
Put it aside for now.
Once he completed everything, he would certainly address these matters.
Just wait until he finished all that…
——————
Horus learned on the Imperator Somnium that he had a sister, and they had even met before.
On the Vengeful Spirit, he then received orders: he would be responsible for educating his blood sister, just as he had previously guided Fulgrim, Sanguinius, and Jaghatai Khan.
Frankly, Warmaster Horus's heart was not calm; one might even say it was in a state of turmoil.
When Horus realized that the Soul Drinker was indeed his blood kin, as Jaghatai Khan had said, his first reaction was to try and recall every detail of his interactions with Morgana in the Drune System. Only when he confirmed that he had not revealed any negative aspects of himself did he truly relax.
But even so, he was still somewhat astonished by Morgana's identity.
Even when he personally chopped off mountain-like heads in the war against the Randan, this astonishment never completely vanished from the depths of his heart. However, compared to the Lord of Barbarus beside him, Horus's composure was considerably better. Mortarion had been muttering to himself for a long time, his words filled with dissatisfaction and complaints about a second Psyker blood kin.
The Death Lord's attitude towards his new blood kin could even be described as contempt, but that was all it was. Whenever he saw the corpses of the Randan Xenos who had left deep scars on his legion, he would recall the legendary achievements of the Soul Drinker that circulated on the front lines. Whenever he thought of this, the venomous accusations in his mouth would suddenly lose their momentum and support.
The Primarch of the Death Guard never disdained to deny his blood kin's battle record. He disdained such so-called achievements and refused to become a self-deceiving liar like a certain Tyrant.
But this only made him feel worse.
A Psyker, a blasphemous wielder of psychic energy even if she was his blood kin had actually achieved undeniable feats. Every time he thought of this, Mortarion would furiously swing his scythe, pulverizing every Xenos within his sight.
It was all because of these Xenos scum, these weaklings, who were utterly insignificant, that the so-called Soul Drinker could become a legend in the mouths of fools.
And his brothers: Lion El'Jonson, and that Mengel. They were too weak, lacking the resilient will forged by suffering, to drag out such opponents for so long, even dying in battle, which allowed a mere Psyker to become a so-called hero in everyone's eyes.
He should have known, he wouldn't have left the front lines against the Randan. He could have led his progeny to clear out these Xenos scum, resolve the battle in the shortest time, demonstrate the power from Barbarus to the world, demonstrate the power of science and reason, rather than let a Psyker revel in her glory.
He should have done so… if he hadn't been so unable to tolerate that Calibanite…
The toxic gas swirling around Mortarion grew more rampant and severe due to his anger and self-imposed isolation. Now, only his closest progeny could stand by his side, continuing this slaughter with their Primarch.
When Horus, leading his Four Kings council, successfully boarded and seized the largest Randan warship, bathed in everyone's cheers and celebrations, the Death Guard and their Primarch had already cut a swathe through the entire Xenos fleet.
But compared to the glory of the Shadow Moon Wolves, Barbarus's progeny appeared much clumsier, their casualties were not as pleasing, and when Mortarion returned to his brother's side, even the cheers of the Imperial Guard Auxiliaries involuntarily dropped a few notes.
Mortarion didn't care, but the toxic gas surrounding him grew even more rampant and severe, making even a figure like Abaddon turn his face away.
But Horus didn't care. He stepped forward, embraced his brother in front of everyone, and then whispered an idea from Warmaster Horus into his ear.
——————
Immediately after the slaughter of the Randan fleet ended, the two Primarchs boarded a Transport Vehicle and arrived on the First Legion's Unbending Truth.
It was a quiet journey. Mortarion held a box, his already gaunt and gloomy face now even more clouded with sorrow, as if Barbarus had been blown up.
Horus sat by, quietly contemplating something, his expression shifting between a frown of deep thought and a sly smile.
If Warmaster Horus had been in a state of astonishment upon learning Morgana's identity, then the Lord of the Shadow Moon Wolves had completely calmed down during the battle and instinctively began to ponder a matter that greatly concerned him.
Morgana.
His sister.
The Lord of the Second Legion.
And also the one designated by the Emperor, whom he could reasonably keep by his side for a period in the future.
A Primarch who seemed very capable, yet had no independent arrogance, and commanded a legion that had already cooperated closely with his Shadow Moon Wolves.
…
The return of a blood kin naturally brought Horus instinctive joy, but…
Could he, in these identities… find something beneficial for himself?
Horus couldn't help but begin to ponder.
The moment he learned of Morgana's identity, Horus actually felt a panic: his fleet, the main force of his [power], the Second Legion, those elite Terra Veterans who possessed many mysterious weapons,
might no longer be his strength, but instead grow closer to the already powerful Dark Angels. This even made Horus feel a new kind of pressure, an invisible competitive pressure.
However, when the Emperor's new orders arrived one after another, an idea also emerged in Horus's mind along with the command: his brother Lion El'Jonson had never been a master of interpersonal relations. Making blood sisters closer to himself would not be a big problem for Horus.
So, if successful, wouldn't both the Second Legion and their powerful Primarch become his [power]?
After all, the Shadow Moon Wolves had fought alongside Morgana's progeny for decades, and bonds had long been formed between them. Since Morgana would be learning by his side, it would be simple to let this legionary bond influence the Primarch's friendship, thereby making her his close confidante.
Just a moment ago, Warmaster Horus had been worried that the Primarch's influence on the legion would diminish his own power, but now he couldn't help but feel fortunate for the connection between the Primarch and the legion, which gave him the best way to win Morgana over.
It was a pity that Marshall's portion of the Second Legion's fleet had already been summoned by the Emperor. Otherwise, he could immediately begin certain plans and arrangements. Since parting ways at Drune, Horus had actually collected information and intelligence about Morgana.
The more he collected, the more astonished he became.
This even made him somewhat envious of his brother, Lion El'Jonson, for having such an excellent aide, a Sigillite.
Even Horus would not deny the Sigillite's abilities.
But now, it seemed this Sigillite was not exclusive to Lion El'Jonson. Whether it was Morgana, who had long demonstrated her capabilities, or her valuable Second Legion, with an order from the Emperor, they seemed no longer out of reach for Horus, but rather, within grasp.
Horus turned his head. He saw his blurred reflection on the smooth wall and smiled, his lips curving upward.
Whether it was Sanguinius, Jaghatai Khan, or Mortarion, Warmaster Horus never believed he had too many friends.
And in his nominal homeland, Cthonia, although he hadn't learned much, he at least understood some principles:
What could be fought for should naturally be held firmly in one's hand.
A Sigillite belonging to Horus, a new confidante, a new supporter, a powerful arm, a blood kin he could trust, call upon, and utilize in necessary moments.
It sounded quite good, didn't it?
——————
When Morgana learned of Horus and Mortarion's visit, she had already left her resting chambers and even restored her Primarch body.
At this moment, the Lord of the Second Legion was in the room of the Lord of the First Legion, sitting in the Lord of the First Legion's seat. Around her were the officers trusted by the Lord of the First Legion.
Corswain, Alajos, and Astoran, these most powerful Astartes warriors, bowed their heads before the Primarch's immense presence and power, reporting their work and listening to orders, just as if they were facing their Primarch himself.
The time for idleness and enjoyment was ultimately fleeting. After Morgana had somewhat recovered her strength, she had no choice but to step out of her small haven and manage the operations and repairs of the Dark Angels Legion.
Morgana's progeny stood on one side of the room, somewhat surprised by the scene before them. Their Primarch sat at the center of the First Legion, casually directing all the Dark Angels, as if she were the Lady of this legion.
Conversely, the Dark Angels had become accustomed to this. When Lion El'Jonson's progeny entered and saw Morgana's towering figure, they let out a sigh of relief.
Over the past decade of war with the Randan, Morgana's presence had quietly moved from the periphery of the Gloriana-class Battleship to the core of the First Legion. By this time, in Lion El'Jonson's absence or slumber, Lady Soul Drinker would temporarily assume the responsibilities of the Legion Master, reviewing various documents and reports, which had become a common sight for the Dark Angels.
Although she still had no authority to intervene in the long-standing Chapters, the daily operations and simple deployment of military units posed no problem for her. And when Morgana's identity as a Primarch spread among the Dark Angels like a silent wave, her temporary governance became even smoother.
For the proud Dark Angels, listening to a mortal's words and listening to a Primarch's command were entirely different feelings and matters. At the very least, for some old traditionalists with reservations, this made them instinctively feel much better.
The Soul Drinker, the one who had achieved unimaginable feats and merits in war, the one who could stand beside their Primarch, the so-called mortal who had saved them from desperate situations time and again was actually a Primarch, an individual who was rightfully more powerful than them.
Thinking of it this way, it felt much more comfortable.
Officers from various companies and Knight-Commanders came and went, rubbing shoulders, reporting their respective duties. Although they held no excessive reverence for Morgana, they maintained a stance of extreme respect. This even made Morgana's true progeny on the side pout, feeling for a moment as if they were merely visitors.
But such an eerie atmosphere vanished without a trace with the arrival of the two Primarchs. Hektor and the others were sent to the door by Morgana, and the Dark Angels were dismissed to other areas.
"My lady…"
Corswain tried to say something, but Morgana merely waved her hand.
[You should be by your Primarch's side, shouldn't you, Corswain?]
Corswain fell silent for a moment, then bowed respectfully and withdrew.
Just as Lion El'Jonson's most trusted progeny vanished around the corridor corner, the figures of Horus and Mortarion appeared in Morgana's sight.
——————
"Morgana! My sister!"
"I know this is somewhat late, but: welcome back!"
Horus remembered meeting his first brother: that brother was the Wolf King of Fenris, who led a horde of dirty barbarians and met him for the first time in a shining sky-palace, shaking hands.
He also remembered Leman Russ calling him "Big Brother" then, a truly Fenrisian address.
Truth be told, Horus at the time didn't actually welcome his brother. He hadn't adapted to the predicament of sharing his paternal affection with the Emperor with others. More than that, he had actually offered some… less than pleasant suggestions.
But Horus didn't want to delve further into those matters; they were all in the past. The current Warmaster Horus was a friend to each of his blood kin, and for some of them, even a close confidante.
As for the one before him, there would be no further exception.
In Horus's eyes, his sister seemed a bit reserved. For a Primarch, she was somewhat too short, not even towering sufficiently over the Astartes warriors.
But none of that mattered.
Horus had intended to embrace her, but when he reached Morgana, he found that his sister did not share the same inclination. She stood there silently, seemingly hesitant about the proper action for their first meeting.
She looked as if she had never experienced such warmth among blood kin. This was natural; how could that Lion of Caliban understand such things?
Horus smiled, not a trace of awkwardness showing. He seamlessly transitioned from an intended embrace to a handshake.
"I regret that we are only truly recognizing each other now, but I will do my best to make up for what has been lost. Morgana, my sister, I formally introduce myself again: I am Horus Lupercal, of Cthonia, Primarch of the Shadow Moon Wolves Legion, and once the commander of your legion."
[Morgana, I am Morgana.]
Her voice sounded a little soft. Perhaps the change in status made her instinctively uncomfortable. Compared to her confident demeanor high above Drune, the current Morgana seemed overly cautious.
[You once commanded my legion?]
"We fought alongside each other, Morgana, and those were days I am proud of. And from now on, I will also fight alongside you in the galaxy, for our father, and for the Imperium we built together."
A faint snort came from Mortarion nearby.
[Fighting alongside each other? Like Lion El'Jonson and I did in the Randan War?]
"Yes, I will teach you everything about the Imperium, including all the profound knowledge only we can know. I know that before this, you and Lion El'Jonson were devoted to this war, missing the opportunity to receive this instruction."
[Is this the Emperor's will?]
"You should call him Father."
[Ah…]
Finally, Morgana smiled.
[Changing identities is not a simple matter, Horus. I think I will need some time to adapt.]
Warmaster Horus laughed, a laugh of immense magnanimity.
"It's alright, my sister."
"For my blood kin, I will only have endless patience."
With that, Horus extended his hand, and Morgana also stretched out hers. Her hand was much smaller than Horus's and felt very cold, like a small piece of ice dropping into a boiling ocean.
She still hadn't adapted to the intimacy of blood kin, Horus thought.
Clearly, Lion El'Jonson had never considered having deeper bonds with his blood kin; he was content with a distant mutual admiration, like an arrogant knight content with the sharpest swords hanging on his castle walls instead of holding them constantly in his hand.
In this regard, Lion El'Jonson was undoubtedly a fool. But what did it matter? For Warmaster Horus, this was only a good thing.
Horus smiled. He did not immediately withdraw his hand from the handshake but continued to ask some questions he had prepared earlier. These questions were truly sincere; Horus genuinely cared about his blood kin's well-being, and a heartfelt familial love drove him to do so. However, Warmaster Horus was accustomed to mixing some more realistic elements into his genuine emotions.
Warmaster Horus could feel that, accompanied by his words and smiles, the reserved ice block in his palm slowly melted, transforming into a similarly warm stream.
This made his smile grow even more genuine.
——————
Horus's words did not linger on himself. He quickly shifted the conversation to Mortarion.
"I found some soul-nourishing items for you on my Vengeful Spirit, my sister. I heard you expended too much in the previous war. I don't know if Lion El'Jonson prepared similar things for you, but I brought them anyway."
"Mortarion insisted on personally ensuring their safety until they reached your hands. Don't be misled by his expression, Morgana, our brother once praised your achievements…"
"I never said that! Horus! And I will never praise any Psyker or psychic scum!"
Mortarion, with no further pleasantries or greetings, charged towards Morgana like a brute ox, almost slamming the box onto the ground. Fortunately, he didn't, merely thrusting the box into Morgana's hands with an attitude that could only be described as cold.
"Don't lie for me, Horus!"
He roared gruffly, then shifted his gaze, reluctantly glancing at his blood kin.
The Death Lord looked down at his Psyker blood kin, his lips, encased by a breathing mask, twitching as if he wanted to say something in greeting, but ultimately the words vanished into the toxic mist of Barbarus.
Horus's expression stiffened for only a moment before recovering before anyone could notice.
"Mortarion, he's just a little…"
"Enough, Horus!"
The Death Lord waved his hand, cutting off his brother's last attempt to repair his relationship with Morgana. He looked at Morgana with a very serious and earnest expression, trying his best to temper his anger and arrogance. This was his affirmation and acknowledgment of Morgana's undeniable military achievements; he would not hide that.
"You did some things in the war, things I won't deny. But they are nothing to boast about. You merely fulfilled the duty any Imperial warrior should. Don't get carried away."
"I'll be watching you, Morgana. I'll be watching your sorcery."
"You'd best pray you don't make the same mistakes as other Psykers, or else…"
"Don't expect me to show mercy."
He spoke all this with a soft yet cold prophecy, then glanced at his blood kin again before turning his body without hesitation and leaving.
Holding a box filled with psychic gifts for a Psyker had already pushed Mortarion's anger to its limit. If it weren't for Horus's request, he would have exploded long ago.
Morgana blinked, watching Mortarion's figure disappear at the end of her vision. She felt neither anger nor any other useless emotion. For the Death Lord, Morgana had no particular feelings.
His soul was not something she valued either.
The aura of decay on it was slowly growing, and Morgana was not foolish enough to seek such sustenance.
Taking this opportunity, she quickly scanned the servants of Horus.
Sejanus had been watching her. When he noticed Morgana's gaze, he smiled and bowed, neither overly reverent nor overly mocking, maintaining a detached demeanor consistent with his usual self.
Abaddon's gaze briefly met Morgana's. For a moment, he seemed to be instinctively thinking something, but in the next instant, his gaze once again unfocused.
Hmm… Abaddon was still Abaddon.
Such an Abaddon was actually quite good.
The rest of the Shadow Moon Wolves didn't even notice Morgana's gaze, but it was just…
Hmm?
The Spider Queen's vision lingered for a second on an unremarkable Shadow Moon Wolf.
He looked like an extraordinarily ordinary individual, one who wouldn't even be remembered. But when he noticed Morgana's gaze, he merely looked up, tilted his head, and revealed a similar smile.
Hydra Dominatus…
She seemed to hear a low murmur.
"Morgana."
Horus's words interrupted the Spider Queen's continued observation.
"Please forgive our brother."
Warmaster Horus sighed, two feelings stirring within him simultaneously: disappointment at the failure to reconcile Mortarion and Morgana, and the joy of being able to further highlight his own image.
They were not contradictory.
——————
Warmaster Horus's conversation with the Spider Queen continued for a while, and it concluded when the topic touched upon a star system not too far from them.
"Before the formal attack on Tacus, the Randan fleet seemed to have lingered in that star system for an unusually long time. There are clearly some issues there, issues worth our exploration."
"You and I, along with my legion, will be the vanguard. Our father will also arrive there soon. Without further delay, I think we can depart now."
Morgana listened to Horus's words, consuming Horus's gift. In her mind, she recalled the star system Horus had mentioned.
She thought for a moment.
She thought about what could exist in that star system. She thought about Horus, and then about Lion El'Jonson.
She didn't think for too long.
——————
Lion El'Jonson opened his eyes.
Then he leaped up.
"What about the war…"
The anxious question burst from the Knight-King of Caliban's mouth, but as he rose and surveyed his surroundings, his question quickly dissipated into the air.
He found himself in a sickbay, surrounded by the highest-ranking Dark Angels. Their armor showed no signs of war smoke or dust.
In an instant, Lion El'Jonson understood his current situation.
"…The Randan were defeated?"
He rubbed his brow.
Corswain stepped forward.
"The Emperor, leading a grand army including the Custodian Guard, Shadow Moon Wolves, Death Guard, and Mechanicus, has killed the Randan ruler…"
The battle report was absorbed by Lion El'Jonson in the briefest manner. He nodded, then inquired about the legion's situation.
The Knight-Commanders exchanged glances, then reported in hushed tones one by one.
The more he listened, the tighter Lion El'Jonson's brow furrowed.
It was too chaotic. During his slumber, how could Morgana have…
Wait.
"Where's Morgana?"
The Lion belatedly looked around, not seeing his blood kin.
"Where is Morgana?"
"Um…"
Corswain stumbled over his words, but the Primarch of the First Legion didn't seem to particularly care for the answer. He merely waved his hand.
"Wherever she is, call her. I need her help and assistance."
With that, Lion El'Jonson continued to rub his brow. The pain of defeat troubled him, and the legion's disarray made this trouble even heavier.
He needed Morgana's strength.
As long as Morgana came, as long as Morgana worked with him to deal with these matters, as long as Morgana could initiate…
"My lord."
Finally, Corswain spoke, his words difficult, requiring the collective effort of several Dark Angels beside him.
"Lady Morgana…"
"Morgana is…"
"Morgana is not on the Unbending Truth… Lord Horus took her."
"…"
"…"
"…"
Corswain touched his neck, feeling a flush of heat.
Lion El'Jonson picked up his helmet.
His hands trembling.
——————
"Corswain."
"Astoran."
"Alajos."
"You all stay."
"Everyone else, out!"
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