"I am the Primarch."
"You will regret this, Lion."
Luther slammed the door and strode out.
The chamber fell silent.
Moments later, the side door creaked open and Luther slipped back inside.
Astelan folded his arms.
"What was their reaction?"
"The usual," Luther sighed, dropping into his chair.
He rubbed his eyes before looking toward the Lion.
"Lion… are you truly determined to press this?"
The Lion did not move.
"The First Legion must resume recruitment immediately," he said. "Its strength must be restored to pre-Rangdan levels as swiftly as possible."
The Cost of War
The First Legion had borne the brunt of the Rangdan war.
Even after the Lion's return, they fought in isolation for extended campaigns against an enemy that consumed entire expeditionary forces.
When the war ended, the Dark Angels were not destroyed.
But they were hollowed.
Veteran cadres depleted.
Specialist formations shattered.
Recruit reserves exhausted.
Replenishment was unavoidable.
Returning to Caliban to rebuild seemed logical.
To Luther, it was dangerous.
Luther pressed his fingers against his temples.
"Lion, you know Caliban does not trust the Imperium. Yet you would push them further into its furnace?"
Shortly after the Emperor's arrival, several noble factions—fearful of losing authority—had conspired with disaffected knights to assassinate Him.
A young knight named Zahariel had stood among them, weapon in hand, staring up at the sky filled with Imperial warships.
Then he remembered the golden giant he had seen.
"We're assassinating the Emperor?" he had asked.
He abandoned the plot.
The Lion crushed the conspiracy within hours.
But the incident revealed a deeper truth:
Caliban did not see the Imperium as salvation.
Many feared it would bring exploitation, cultural extinction, or ruin.
Luther had spent years easing those fears.
The Lion's new demands threatened to undo that fragile balance.
"The Order provides our recruits," Luther continued. "Selection rates are already limited. If you remove too many youths, the next intake collapses."
"Then expand the intake," the Lion replied. "Recruit beyond the Order."
Luther stared.
"Beyond the Order? Into the villages? Into the forests?"
His laugh was sharp with disbelief.
"Do you even know what you're asking?"
If the Order lost its monopoly on recruitment:
noble influence would fracture
peasant levies would create social upheaval
a civilian bloc could emerge inside the Legion
Calibanite politics would fracture the Legion's cohesion
And Luther's careful balancing act would collapse.
He exhaled slowly.
"Do you intend to create a third faction inside the Legion?"
The Lion said nothing.
That silence was answer enough.
Astelan shifted uneasily. He had considered a solution: transform Caliban into a dense industrial world to increase population output.
He said nothing.
Such change would destroy Caliban's ecology, culture, and knightly traditions.
Even he knew that cost was too high.
Arachias spoke instead.
"Father, why the urgency? Why must recruitment be accelerated?"
The Lion paused.
"I intend to restore the Legion's operational strength as soon as possible."
Luther closed his eyes briefly.
"That is not an answer."
"Where is the Vice-Emperor's book?" Luther muttered. "Show it to him."
Before Astelan could move, the Lion flipped open the volume beside him.
"I seek only to fulfill the duty Father entrusted to me."
Luther frowned.
"That is all?"
The Lion hesitated.
"…And the position of War Commander."
Silence.
Then understanding dawned.
"Oh," Astelan said quietly.
That explained everything.
"I do not wish to be Warmaster," the Lion said.
No one believed him.
He repeated, expression unchanged:
"I do not."
The room remained unconvinced.
Even he did not know whether that was true.
A mysterious figure had spoken of future commands and Imperial war leadership. He could not verify the claim.
But he had not dismissed it.
If chosen, he would not fail.
That was enough.
Luther tried once more.
"There are other paths. Do not let this destroy Caliban."
The Lion remained silent.
Luther's heart sank.
"Lion," he said quietly, "tell me truthfully… do you consider Caliban your home?"
He would never have asked this once.
But the Lion did not volunteer what he felt.
And if unasked, he would never speak.
The Lion hesitated.
"I do not know."
He had joined the Imperium for the Emperor's vision.
The stars awaited conquest.
Measured against that horizon, Caliban was small.
Yet Luther's question lingered.
He did not know what he felt.
Astelan intervened.
"We must decide the practical matter. Recruit — or not. If so, how?"
"I have heard," the Lion said, "that the Ultramarines have already restored their numbers."
Arachias snorted.
"No one compares to them."
Luther sighed.
"I will consult the Vice-Emperor. She may have a solution."
The Lion's expression did not change.
But the air grew colder.
"A minor matter requires consultation?"
Luther met his gaze.
"She said that anything concerning you is never minor."
Terra
"Do not concern yourself," Yuki's voice came through the channel. "I have dispatched the Rising Angels to Caliban. Until the First Legion recovers, the Lion may employ them as auxiliary forces."
Luther hesitated.
"That… may cause political complications."
"It will prevent strategic collapse," she replied calmly. "I am occupied. We will speak later."
The transmission ended.
Meanwhile, on Terra
Perturabo's arrival had gone better than expected.
When he was not guarded or defensive, his intellect and clarity made him easy to respect.
Even Dorn had not objected.
At least, not yet.
Horus and Sanguinius welcomed him warmly.
Magnus engaged him in philosophical debate.
Fulgrim attempted conversation and received polite indifference.
Dorn introduced himself briefly and withdrew into silence.
Perturabo categorized him as taciturn and efficient.
For now.
The Banquet
Magnus seized the moment.
"I propose the open integration of psychic warfare units across the Legiones Astartes."
Sanguinius tilted his head.
"You mean controlled training."
"Yes," Magnus said.
"And unrestricted Warp research," Dorn said flatly.
Magnus smiled.
"For defensive purposes."
Dorn stood.
"I warned you I would not tolerate this."
Before tension escalated, Perturabo stepped forward.
"Must disagreement always end in violence?"
Dorn turned his gaze on him.
"You defend him?"
Perturabo's pride flared.
"Yes."
Dorn moved with startling speed.
His fist struck Magnus across the face.
"Attend to the duties Father gave you," Dorn said. "Do not pursue what endangers mankind."
He turned and walked away.
Perturabo froze.
He had been ignored.
Completely.
His anger ignited instantly.
Yuki grabbed his arm before he could charge.
Magnus rubbed his cheek.
The blow had stung, but not harmed.
It had been a warning.
Not punishment.
He was not angry.
He was thinking.
Sanguinius patted his shoulder.
"Anything to add?"
Magnus blinked.
"…Hehe?"
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