Hangar of the Vengeful Spirit, Sixteenth Legion Flagship.
Now that the naval engagement with the Orks had concluded with the enemy's frantic retreat, the two Primarchs were finally able to meet in person.
As the visitor, Perturabo traveled from the Iron Blood to the Vengeful Spirit aboard his personal Stormbird, escorted by several Iron Warriors officers, to see his brother, Horus Lupercal.
Upon receiving the request, the Master of the Luna Wolves personally led the entire Mournival and the commanders of the Sixteenth Legion to the largest docking bay of the Vengeful Spirit, awaiting his brother's arrival. The bay had been cleared of various aircraft and cluttered equipment at a moment's notice to provide ample space for the Lord of Iron's Stormbird.
Soon, after traversing the void between the two Gloriana-class battleships, the Iron Tsar's Stormbird—clad in an unadorned, iron-gray livery—appeared outside the hangar. Horus Lupercal realized his genetic brother had arrived.
"Sejanus, Abaddon, are you ready?" Horus asked slowly, looking at the iron-gray craft as it touched down.
"I am ready, Father. I will not disappoint you," Hastur Sejanus replied, holding his helmet under one arm and nodding with a grave expression.
"As for you, Abaddon, you had better not say anything out of turn before Lord Perturabo. This is his first meeting with Father; first impressions are vital," Sejanus turned to Abaddon, warning him sternly. "Our every move will affect the cooperation between our Legions for decades to come. You had better restrain yourself. Don't act as shamelessly as you do before Father. He will tolerate you, but I will not!"
As the man who had recruited Abaddon into the Legion, Hastur Sejanus was one of the few in the Luna Wolves, besides Horus himself, who could rein in the reckless First Captain.
"Master Sejanus, when have I ever let Father down in such a moment? I don't need your warnings; I know what to do," Abaddon replied in a somewhat flippant tone. He knew that as long as he didn't commit a fundamental error, Horus would not treat him harshly.
"Sejanus, you are being a bit hard on Abaddon," Horus said, frowning slightly. "While you were the one who brought him into the Legion, he is now the First Captain and you are the Fourth. As an officer, you shouldn't scold him so..."
Both Sejanus and Abaddon were his beloved sons, and Horus was loath to see resentment grow between them.
"If that is Father's wish, I shall say no more," Sejanus replied, his expression softening.
"Heh, Sejanus is still the one I respect most. Besides Father, only he can talk sense into me," Abaddon chuckled.
"Enough. Stop talking. My brother is coming out. Prepare yourselves," Horus noted the Stormbird's ramp lowering, signaling that the passengers were ready to disembark.
"Understood, Father," both Abaddon and Sejanus replied in unison.
"My brother, Horus Lupercal! I finally see you in the flesh. I have heard of your name and deeds, and today I finally meet the man himself!"
As Perturabo walked down the ramp, he approached Horus with great enthusiasm, his arms spread wide.
"Haha! Perturabo Rurik Kislevsky! My brother! I have heard of you as well! The Iron Tsar of Kislev! To see you is truly better than a hundred reports!"
Seeing Perturabo's warmth, Horus responded in kind, extending his arms as he walked forward.
Under the gaze of their respective Astartes, the two Primarchs embraced. Whatever calculations or mental sparring had occurred previously, at this moment, they appeared as brothers of the same genetic father, close and inseparable.
"Perturabo, the credit for this victory belongs largely to you. I must thank you!" Horus praised after the embrace. He wished to use this first shared combat experience to forge a closer bond.
"Heh, Horus, my brother."
"I must thank you as well. You managed my Legion on my behalf before I returned to the Imperium. Even now, many of my sons still remember your kindness. Why, just moments ago, they were urging me to hurry to your rescue. You should thank them."
Perturabo spoke with a faint smile, but as the words left his mouth, an awkward silence fell over Horus and everyone present. Perturabo's subtext was clear: Horus's influence over the Iron Warriors was profound—a fact that was highly sensitive and often taboo for any Primarch.
"Well... Perturabo, perhaps it is because I led them through many glorious campaigns. They likely have fond memories of achieving merit under my command."
Horus replied with some embarrassment, attempting to steer the conversation. "I am sure you, their true genetic father, will lead them to even greater achievements than I ever did. In time, they will see me as merely a Primarch who once led them."
"Indeed. It is only natural that I, as their genetic father, should lead them to build even more glory during the Great Crusade, is it not?" Perturabo followed the opening Horus provided to move past the tension.
"Now, let me host you properly, my brother," Horus said, inviting him further into the ship.