The Mortal Son

by FreedomOfThinking

Entombed on the Golden Throne, the Master of Mankind has been near helpless to combat the dangers humanity faces. However against all odds, the Emperor decided to try to tip the scale in Humanity's favor no matter the cost. The Herd has lacked a Shepard for far too long. It's time for something new... well, new-ish.

29. Act 3 - 9: You're Where You Belong

"Lucian"

Awareness of his surroundings came far slower than sound. The voice he knew, but the rushing water and twittering animals drew his mind into the present.

While he was awake, this was not the real world.

The ancient trees of Terra twisted lightly in the wind, drawing his gaze skyward to the now clouded sky.

Lucian was stood by the forestline, meters away from the river bank.

Sunlight flickered down before him, casting the sight before him in speckled shafts of glowing radiance. And he saw-

"Lucian" the voice came again, and the youth turned away to face the giant that stood with him.

While this was the place he had met his Father, it was not Neoth that stood with him.

Magnus the Red was beside Lucian, fully formed and garbed in his scholarly clothing.

But that meant-

"Am I dead?" he couldn't help but ask, fearing that he had indeed died while attempting to destroy the Orks.

Magnus shook his head.

"No. Your body is resting"

"Then why are we here?" Lucian looked around them all, "where's Father?"

Magnus's gaze twitched, his expression tightening.

"He has spoken to you"

Lucian nodded.

"So you know where we are then?"

"A Domain" Lucian eventually answered upon a moment of recollection, "one that exists within the Realm of Souls"

Magnus frowned further.

"You speak upon what you have been told, not what you understand"

Lucian glared lightly, "I understand enough"

Magnus' lifted one hand to point beyond both of them.

"Then what is that?"

Lucian turned to look at what he had observed.

Amongst all the nature and serene natural beauty, an unnatural construction was present. A bridge of white marble stone connected both sides of the thunderous river.

It was worn, the stone of each block whittled by time and use.

Lucian blinked at the sight of the bridge, but instantly focused upon the figures that walked upon it.

A long procession of people, their forms and faces varied in age, height, sex. Their clothing was a vast assortment all held together by one similarity.

"I… I don't…"

Of this slowly walking procession, Lucian saw how each and every one of them suffered some kind of wound or damage.

Magnus's voice gently worked its way into his ears.

"What you know as the Warp was once the Realm of Souls. It was a dimension where all soul bearing species would move onto once their time had come, a vast collective of consciousness and being, forever separated from our Universe"

Lucian couldn't tear his eyes away from the marching humans, all of them slowly coming to the bridge and shuffling across it.

There were hundreds of them that marched along the old cobbled road. The path stretched out beyond the forest, an endless number of people occupying it at every step.

"It was War which forced an evolution in the Realm of Souls. A war so great that the untold dead choked the dimension, drawing it into the nightmarish source of power any Psyker today may wield"

Lucian knew of war now.

He knew what it wrought.

"But the Warp is not just a battery. It is a monument to the individuality of the living and the dead, the home to the belief and feeling that every soul will and has experienced. The individual, expressed through a collective realm. The nature of conflict pits one force against another, thus twisting the Warp against itself. What was once something akin to an afterlife, is now a maddened dimension of horror and contrast"

Magnus lectured, gently resting a hand on his Brother's shoulder.

"Similar souls and beliefs accumulate, eventually coming to form into a collective that can clearly define itself amongst the rest. This is a Domain"

"Father's" Lucian realised.

"Indeed" Magnus managed to grit out.

"...Chaos. They have Domain's as well"

Lucian didn't see Magnus nod, "the Four possess the most defined, that is to be certain, but there are many entities that inhabit the Warp"

"And then this bridge, these people, what is this?" Lucian needed to know.

"Come now" Red tisked, "don't be naive"

An understanding clicked in Lucian's mind.

All these people that walked across the bridge, every single one of them…

"The dead. Passing on" the youth quietly exclaimed, now suddenly reserved at the sight of all these perished souls.

"The Imperium's dead" Magnus corrected, "The Emperor's most loyal and valient of subjects, those possessed by the Imperium's great ideals and dogmatic faith. The souls that will find purchase amongst his Domain"

The youth slipped out from his Brother's grasp as he stepped forth.

Lucian slowly walked toward the Bridge, coming out from the tree line that Magnus lingered by.

He quietly observed them all, unnerved by the silence that permeated their steady march. Blank eyes turned to gaze at Lucian every now and then, but they did not speak or react to his presence.

They were dead, how could they react?

"Why am I here" he quietly whispered out, a tense nervousness leaking into his form, "why must I see all…"

A face stood out amongst the sea of people, a robotic eye set straight ahead as the pale face of an Ex-Arbite remained focused upon the bridge.

Lucian darted forward, his heartbeat in his ears as he closed the distance between himself and the man.

Magnus's words to him were lost in his explosion of emotion and panic.

The youth came within a foot of the cobbled path before he struck a solid deterrent. It seemed as if the very air itself had hardened to prevent his charge. An invisible but extremely solid barrier stopped him from reaching the older man.

Lucian charged again, his body striking against the unseeable barrier before being flung away. The youth tumbled to the earth, quickly composing himself once more.

His heart thundered.

The man had reached the bridge.

"Lynwood!" he cried out, scrambling toward the barrier.

The dead man took his first step onto the bridge.

"LYNWOOD!" he yelled, colliding with the barrier but holding himself against its repelling power. Energy crackled within the air.

Lucian wasn't capable of piercing this protection, but his actions did manage something else.

The shade of Lynwood turned its head for a brief moment, his blank eyes finding Lucian's. And the youth couldn't speak. The moment dragged on for an eternity.

Eventually, the Ex-Arbite nodded at him firmly.

And then he turned away, his figure vanishing amongst the endless sea of others.

"NO!" Lucian roared, drawing upon his power as he-

A tug of energy pulled him back, flinging him all the way to the tree line. Lucian remained riveted by Magnus's side, the crimson giant gently rolling a coil of energy around his palm.

Lucian's rage at his Brother's action was blindsided by Magnus's calm but authoritative statement.

"He is dead. You cannot save him"

"But-"

"No, Lucian. If you interfere with this place, you do not know the havoc it would bring"

"He's my friend!" Lucian roared, his golden coils of energy erupting from his body, "he can't be dead!"

"AND YET THERE HE GOES!" Magnus snapped, torrents of warp power bursting from his body, "No matter how powerful you are Lucian, you are not a God! Sometimes who lives and who dies is not within your control!"

And then the torrent of energy ceased, Magnus composing himself as Lucian slowly deflated.

The tension was filled by a wave of sorrow.

"I… I destroyed them, so others wouldn't die"

"Too little too late" Magnus uttered, before he grimaced.

Lucian blinked up at the giant, slowly rolling the words over his mind.

"...what?"

"Nothing" the giant tried to push away the words, but Lucian's rage began to boil up again.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?!"

Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose, uttering a quiet word beneath his breathe before he relaxed his face.

Looking deeply into Lucian's enraged features, the Crimson King spoke as diplomatically as he could.

"We both know you could have acted sooner"

Magnus held up a hand, preventing Lucian's rebuttal.

"I'm not saying you should have. But you could have. I know you never asked the Inquisitor about the Scythe. I tried to warn you that you would need it, but you never did"

"I… I thought I could do this alone"

Red's face stiffened again.

"I understand. But had you tried sooner, maybe your friend would still be alive. Your actions do indeed have consequences Lucian, but as a Son of the Emperor, even inaction may cost you dearly"

Lucian quietly mulled over everything Magnus had told him.

"Is this another lesson?"

"Perhaps" the giant answered evasively, "... I also wanted to make sure you were alright"

Lucian nodded, "I'm fine"

Magnus smiled sadly, "I know"

Lucian looked back to the bridge.

Lynwood's soul was long gone.

"I'm always here, if you need me" Magnus quietly said to his brother.

And the youth couldn't keep his eyes off the bridge.

"Thank you" he softly replied, a pocket of warmth having appeared within his frigid heart.

"Now. Perhaps I can show you a neat trick or two while we pass the time?"

Lucian allowed himself to be swept up by Magnus's teachings, managing to keep pace with his enthused instructor by only a hair.

His thoughts couldn't help but wander back to the War.

…could he have really acted sooner?

Would it have made a difference?

---

A hooded figure slipped into the room, seemingly unimpeded by the Guards which certainly stood on the other side of the Jail Block's only doorway.

Her power latched onto him, instantly removing her from his senses.

From the corner of her dark and desolate cell, she directed her harsh glare toward the hooded being.

This was the first visitor she had beside the daily servitor which dropped food through the bars…

And it certainly wasn't the boy. The lying mean boy, who left her here.

When she saw him again, she would-

"I know you're here"

It was a man that lay beneath the hood.

He had a soft voice.

The figure slowly began to approach her cage, his form slowly drifting up the length of empty cells before her own.

'He can't see me'

But as the figure came to a gentle stop before her cell, as the eyes beneath the hood slowly settled upon her, the girl couldn't help but feel doubt.

"I know you're there, even if I can't see you"

His admittance didn't calm her fears.

But his following question certainly drew her attention.

"Why do you hide? Are you scared of me?"

She didn't answer.

"Or is it just strangers? People you don't know?"

Silence remained, but the girl tensed at the prompt.

The man chuckled, throwing the hood from his head the stranger sat on the steel flooring of the brig.

He peered through the bars over his scruffy spectacles.

"My name is Gideon. It's a pleasure to meet you"

He radiated kindness.

The girl even recognised him to be considerably frail. By no means weak, but certainly old.

But Father had been like that. Sometimes looks could be deceiving…

However that didn't stop her from loosening her grip upon him.

His eyes instantly snapped to hers as her bundled up figure was revealed to him completely.

Coiled up in the corner of her cell, the man took a moment to appraise her.

"I'm sorry he left you here. It should not have happened, but the decision was out of my hands. I do not have the power to release you, but I can promise the time will soon come that you may be free of this" he gestured to the bars, unaware of the words that the ragged youth had latched onto.

The girl's thoughts whirled.

He knew him.

'Gideon' knew that he had lied to her.

"I hate him" she couldn't help but spit, the anger that had coiled within her finding no resistance from exiting her being. She had spoken before she even realized it.

Gideon sadly smiled.

"Hate is a strong word, child. He may have forgotten, he may be busy. You cannot blame him for an accident"

"He lied!" she shouted, thrashing for a moment in her rags.

Gideon frowned.

"People are not without fault, child"

She hissed, but said nothing.

Gideon looked upon this primitive child, likely scorned and forced to fend for herself until she crossed paths with Lorn De Chambaal, and he felt pity. Her presence was far removed from how the Chirgeon had expected her to be.

A long period of isolation might not have done her any good either.

But sacrifices had to be made.

His Master had an endgame, and if playing into Vownus's fears helped bring about an ideal situation…

Gideon trusted his betters.

"But you have not been forgotten, child. I am here" he gestured between them, "if you need to speak to someone, anyone, know that you can always talk to me"

A device was pulled from his inconspicuous robe, the small item skidding across the floor of the cell as the man tossed it to her.

"Click the button on the top twice, and once you hear my voice, know that I will be able to hear yours"

"Why?"

Her curiosity at this man, his sincere need to speak with her… she couldn't understand it.

Gideon smiled politely at her.

"Because you are special, child. And I know that one day you will do great things, no matter what horrible people do to you, I know that you can succeed"

The girl said nothing.

"And I want to help you because maybe one day, you might be able to help me"

Gideon stood.

"I have duties to attend to, child. Feel free to contact me whenever you need. If you ever have any questions, I shall endeavor to answer them promptly"

"Klara"

Gideon paused for a moment at the near whispered words.

"My name is Klara"

He nodded at her politely, "it is wonderful to meet you, Klara. I hope I can be of some use to you"

And then he left.

The Blank Girl, Klara, watched him go until he was beyond her sight.

---

"-and that is why you…. Lucian"

The youth muttered a brief apology as he turned his attention back to his Brother. Magnus the Red studied his younger brother, who sat upon a collapsed tree with a sour expression on his face.

Magnus sighed.

"You are still troubled?"

"Hurt and confused" the youth answered, "and I don't think it's going away anytime soon"

The knowledge of Lynwood's passing was a drop in the considerable ocean of regret that was pooling within the youth.

Magnus's colossal figure was suddenly seated beside the boy.

"It is good to recognise you may have made a mistake. But spending time fretting about decisions you would have made with the benefit of hindsight, is a pointless task"

Lucian sighed but said nothing.

Magnus, as always, was prepared to say more.

"Brother. Time is a fickle thing… the past remains where it is, our actions in the present mold the future to our will, but this does not mean everything is certain"

Magnus frowned, "I am sorry for my candid words earlier. While it is true that I would not make the same decisions in your place, had the choice been up to me, this by no means proves my choice would have turned out better. I possess confidence in my own decisions, and certainly believe them to be the right choice, but perhaps not for you"

Magnus looked to the skies, his eye cast out to the clouds and something far beyond it.

"I am guilty of a few poor, if not terrible, decisions across all my years of life, Brother. Take it from one who has had to deal with the consequences of his actions many times, reimagining the past does little to prepare you for the future"

The crimson king looked back to his brother.

"When I… uh… spoke to you, and the Blood Raven-"

"You possessed him" Lucian frowned as he lightly corrected Magnus.

Magnus waved away the concern, "nothing too painful. Besides I needed to speak to the idiotic Inquisitor"

"About?"

Magnus's shoulders seemed to sag.

"I was worried about it before, but now the conclusion is far gone. You are in considerable danger now, Lucian. Far more than before"

"What!?" the youth was startled, "why?!"

"Because you've just shown your existence to the universe!"

The sudden reproach Lucian received from the Crimson King wove him into silence. Magnus, however, certainly wasn't finished speaking.

"Your light pierced both heaven and hell! The eye of every Psyker in existence, every Warp entity that lingers between dimensions, has now fallen upon you!"

Magnus's ire softened.

"Your actions on Balor have set into motion events far beyond your comprehension. You have no idea, Lucian, what you have done"

The solemn tone of his elder sibling struck a deep chord within Lucian's mind. This wasn't fear that Magnus radiated toward him, but rather a deep sadness.

A sadness partly born out of concern, but sadness nonetheless.

"So… I don't suppose you'd know anything then? About what happens next?"

Magnus frowned.

"Do not linger upon Balor"

"That's it?"

The Crimson King looked over Lucian's shoulder.

"For now. We'll speak later.

"But-"

---

And the dreamer awoke.

---

Vownus had been dozing in the small chair beside Lucian's "bed", if you could even call it that. Lucian had been placed in an empty room within a Habblock, and whatever passed for a bed had been covered with a few donated blankets.

Vownus was the only one in the small room when Lucian woke up, and so no one else got to see the brief jerk of surprise that nearly threw the man from his seat.

The youth was dressed in sleeping robes, a pair having been gifted by an Officer with a similar build as the youth. Lucian's figure thrashed slightly as he awoke.

Blearily, Lucian turned to face the Inquisitor, his rough voice producing a few scratchy words.

"Where… am I?" he managed to say, his eyes blinking against the light.

Kaede answered slowly and clearly, worried that the youth may still be coming back to consciousness and might not be clear of mind.

"You're on Balor, the Hive city. It's me, Vownus"

The youth weakly scoffed as he faced Vownus directly, slowly sitting up in his bed.

"Know that… already" he groaned slightly and the Inquisitor darted over, gently easing him back down onto the bed.

"Easy, kiddo. No sudden moves"

"Doctors orders?" the youth chuckled.

"My orders" Kaede hummed, "because you mister, nearly killed yourself with that stunt"

Lucian settled back down, his eyes brimming with a light golden glow.

"... it worked? Right?"

Kaede nodded, "you killed them all. Maybe a few Spores escaped us, but so far our Scouts haven't found a trace"

"Spores?"

Kaede frowned, "The Greenskins are dangerous for many reasons, one of which is their inherent biology. Ork's are a Fungus Lucian. That means they don't propagate with each other they reproduce by-" Kaede startled himself out of the lecture, "nevermind about the details, now isn't the time for a lesson. The Ork's are gone. For good."

Vownus sat back down in his chair, slowly taking the hat from his head.

"However I thought I should break the news to you, before we go any further" his hat was tightly grasped within his hands Lynwood is dead" Kaede bowed his head slightly.

"I know you knew him for as long as I did, but I know he meant something to you"

The Inquisitor looked up at Lucian again, his Witch Hunter's hat returning to his head. Vownus let the silence stretch between them, giving Lucian time to absorb the news.

He saw how Lucian fisted his hands atop the blanket.

"I know"

Sorrow filled the Emperor's Son.

"I watched him go with my Brother…." Lucian squeezed his eyes shut, "Lynwood….I can't believe it"

Kaede frowned, barely managing to put aside his many questions about precisely what Lucian had just said, instead settling for direct comfort.

"I'm sorry kiddo. But War comes with a cost. He knew the risks, as we all do"

Lucian already had another question at the ready.

"How is Caius?"

Vownus frowned, "he was with Lynwood. When it happened"

"And?"

Kaede grimaced, "he hasn't taken it well"

Lucian's expression drooped, a seed of regret blooming in his features. Amongst the sorrow, Kaede couldn't help but notice it.

"It's no one's fault. So before you go blaming yourself for any damn reason, understand that in our path of life people die. And either today, tomorrow, a month from now or years from now, we will all die. Such is life"

Lucian gazed at Vownus, his face shifting once more. His eyes were dimmed now, the brief flare of emotional response slowly coming under control.

The youth nodded.

He understood.

And Kaede was glad. But he couldn't help but ask just one more question.

"You say you watched Lynwood pass on with your Brother. Just so we're both clear, by Brother you mean-"

"Magnus" Lucian calmly replied.

"Right" Kaede huffed, "that's what I thought. Look, things are a little tense right now, so I'll be straight with you"

Vownus dragged his chair right up to the bedside as he leaned in closely to Lucian.

He spoke softly and clearly.

"Whatever's going on between you and a Daemon Prince… I'm willing to overlook this 'dialogue' you're having with a known Traitor. I can only caution you not to take him at his word. The Crimson King serves the Architect of Fate, the most unpredictable of the Four Chaos Gods. This being said, I cannot deny that learning from him is certainly far better than what I am capable of offering"

"I have your approval then?"

Kaede laughed, "I don't have the power to order you around anymore, Kiddo"

Lucian seemed startled for a moment. But he quickly spoke up.

"I want you to advise me, Vownus. Please. I trust you, and your intentions for me"

Kaede sighed, "then I should probably start by advising you to keep the fact you and Magnus the Red are pen-pals to as few people as possible"

"Why?"

"The situation has changed Lucian," Vownus said gravely.

"In a day? What has happened"

"A day?" Kaede sat upright, "Lucian… it's been almost a month"

---

Almost One Month Ago, "Ground Zero"

---

Corvus was the first to approach Vownus. The Inquisitor sat beside the sleeping Lucian, quietly monitoring him through the Warp.

Kaede broke his concentration to observe the Primarch. Corvus appeared as he did when Vownus knew him as Corvo.

Nondescript. Chapter-less. A blank slate that anyone would see as such.

They certainly wouldn't see him as the Ravenlord.

Kaede wouldn't question the need for secrecy. He alone could think of a few reasons, but felt no need to question the Primarch.

"Is he alright?"

Kaede looked back to Lucian, the focus of Corvus's attention.

"He's breathing at least. That's gotta count for something" the Inquisitor shrugged his shoulders, "but I think staying out of his mind for the moment might be a good thing"

Vownus suddenly felt the Primarch's attention shift to him.

Kaede looked up into the red eyed gaze of Corvus's helmet.

"You have been in his mind before"

An accusation lay in the Ravenlord's words.

"I have" Kaede defended, "he hasn't had the easiest time coming to terms with his nature as a Psyker, let alone a Son of the Emperor"

"You have adjusted his thoughts"

"A nudge here or there. Nothing more"

"By what right do you assume to possess, that you believe you may freely tamper with my Brother's mind?"

"I didn't know who he was"

"Do not lie to me, Inquisitor. You knew"

"I had suspicions!" Kaede corrected, "but the Inquisition doesn't deal in the seemingly certain outcomes. We always consider the alternatives, no matter how unlikely they are"

Corvus backed off, taking a moment to gaze over at Lucian once more.

"If you have done something to his mind, if you have done anything that may harm him…" Corvus looked back at him, "There will be no hole you can hide in that will save you from me"

Vownus felt a shiver crawl down his spine.

He could only nod, his mouth failing him.

Fortunately the icy silence was broken by another approaching figure.

"Vownus! Lord Corvus!" Seraphis's pace slowed to a walk as he came upon them, his eyes immediately drifting towards the figure that Kaede sat beside "how is Lord Lucian?"

"Sleeping" Corvus bluntly answered.

"He's well?" Seraphis asked.

"As far as I can tell" Vownus shrugged again, "...well, besides his arm at least"

---

Almost One Month Later, "Lucian's Room"

---

Kaede neglected to go into his conversation with Corvus regarding Lucians mind, but he did draw the youth's thoughts toward his arm.

At Vownus's words regarding his limb, the young Psyker finally had his attention drawn to one in particular.

Lucian raised his sword hand, flexing his fingers once more and observing how the bandages twisted around it.

Up to his elbow, the limb was completely covered in a black material.

Upon further inspection, Lucian observed iconography and scripture inscribed along the wrappings. High Gothic and something far older it seemed, but Lucian couldn't make heads or tails-

Kaede coughed politely, gaining the youth's attention immediately.

"That Sword is bad news, Kiddo. And that's because I'm pretty sure I know what it is"

Lucian raised the limb slightly, an odd sensation crawling up his forearm as he tried to flex it.

"What is it? And what did it do to me?"

Vownus pointed a finger at his arm, "it changed your flesh. We were able to seal it off, but the effects seem irreversible"

Lucian moved the arm.

It stung, but he had full control of it.

"On the topic of what the Sword exactly is… well the Blade is either a direct connection to the Realm of the Blood, a sort of battery that directly pulls Khrone's Will through you…. or it is Caliburnus."

"It has a name?" Lucian asked, bemused.

Kaede's frown deepened. This was a serious issue.

"A weapon with a name does so because it has earned one, Lucian"

He locked gazes with the youth.

"Old texts speak of Caliburnus. It is a Sword some believed to have been tied directly with humanity. A weapon forged by the Blood God itself. It may have made its appearance throughout our own history many times and in many places, but it certainly would have been known by a different name"

Kaede leant back in his chair.

"What all the stories do have in common, and a large reason why many believe Caliburnus does indeed exist, is because the blade was given as a gift."

Vownus rubbed at his beard for a moment, his mind recalling the details of a long forgotten tome he had come across.

"It commands unimaginable power, instantly separating its user from any mere mortal. I'd think it's fair to say that the weapon you wielded certainly did that"

Lucian snorted at the Inquisitor's humorous declaration.

"You're certain"

"Never certain" Kaede replied, "but I'm pretty sure…"

Lucian nodded slowly.

He would take the Inquisitor's words to heart. Besides, he knew the best person to ask about Caliburnus. If anyone knew about it, Magnus would.

Lucian stared down at the wrapped limb.

"Do you think it will heal?"

Vownus sighed.

"...I'm not sure if it's that simple, kiddo"

Lucian raised a confused eyebrow.

"It's not that it's harmed you. Your arm has been changed. Twisted by the powers it has come into contact with. I know you felt the Sword's effects as you wielded it, saw you fiddling with your grip"

Lucian flexed his hand, recalling what he could.

"It felt cold and hot simultaneously"

Kaede held up a hand, "can't say I know anything besides what myself and the other's saw. But from what I know, your arm should be alright"

Lucian dropped the limb.

The snail pace of his thoughts ceased as he recalled what else Kaede had said.

"Did anything else happen?"

Kaede blinked for a moment.

"Well…" he grinned weakly, "kinda?"

---

Almost One Month Ago, "Ground Zero"

---

Vownus stood at the force which approached.

It was a group of ten Astartes that strode toward Vownus, Corvus and Seraphis. The trio were each focused on them, the details of their armor and appearance giving away their nature.

Crimson Fist Librarians. The one at the head of the group was their leader, if the individuality of the iconography hanging from his set of Terminator armor meant anything… or the fact the other's did indeed seem to be following him.

A mighty force.

The Librarian spared a glance between the Blood Raven and Corvus, his eyes remaining on the unmarked figure for a second longer than they did on Seraphis.

Eventually the Crimson Fist acknowledged Vownus.

"An agent of the Inquisition. I should have guessed"

He sounded serious.

Very serious.

And he hadn't come alone.

"My name is Vownus Kaede. I'm with the Ordo Hereticus"

The Librarian's eyes glanced up at Kaede's head.

"I am Eustace Mendoza. Chief Librarian of the Crimson Fists. I'm here to dispose of your mess, Witch Hunter"

Seraphis tensed. Vownus could only imagine Corvus had done so as well, if not noticeable.

"Easy there friend" the Inquisitor placated, immediately suing for peace, "whatever you think you're about to do, you might want to reconsider"

Chief Librarian Mendoza frowned.

The Warp rumbled.

"The Warp creature" the Crimson Fist gestured at Lucian, the action causing a flinch from both Vownus and Seraphis, "we have come to dispose of it"

And then it made sense.

They had come because they had sensed Lucian…. And they thought he was a threat.

Kaede made to speak, but the Librarian already moved forward, Warp energy beginning to coil in his hand.

"Stand aside. We will not have a better chance than to strike while it is un-"

"Take one more step and you will not like how this ends"

The psychically charged Librarian came up short as Corvus stepped toward him. Each of the other Crimson Fist Psyker's focused on the unnamed figure of the Ravenlord.

"You are Legionless, nameless, who… or what are you, to stop the eradication of a threat?"

The question was asked from a place of power, spoken to a being that was being considered like the insect on a Guardsman's boot.

There was a shift in the air.

Power coiled in the minds and hands of many.

Vownus desperately wished to de-escalate the rising tension, but as everyone prepared for a brawl… Corvus decided to be as direct as possible.

"Who am I?"

His form twisted suddenly as he slowly stepped up to the Crimson Fist that challenged him. His armor disappeared into smoke as he slowly revealed himself with every single step he took.

"Look into my eyes…."

Eustace Mendoza took a step away from the towering figure.

The Raven Lord stood heads above the Terminator, his vicious gaze burning down into the startled Librarian.

As Corvus's face appeared, Mendoza recognised the being that now stood before him.

He knew who this was.

"...You tell me"

---

About One Month Later, "Lucian's Room"

---

"So the Crimson Fists know about me and Corvus?" Lucian asked as he swung his legs out of the bed.

He was strong enough to stand, and he knew it.

But still, the Inquisitor stood by his side, gently helping him to his feet.

"Corvus and I" Vownus corrected, "but yes, the Astartes know about Corvus Corax. They're keeping it to themselves for now, rather than stir up Balor's population anymore"

"Uh…" Lucian wondered, "anymore?"

Kaede still hovered by his side, but slowly stood up straight, willing to trust in Lucian's legs as much as the youth seemed to.

"The Astartes know about you and Corvus. That's why we're having a quick little 'group chat' about our current situation right now. We've just been waiting for you to wake up, kiddo"

Vownus couldn't help but wince slightly.

"Everyone knows about you though. Aethod and a few others showed up later. They had Guardsmen elements with them. They saw me carrying you here. By the Emperor, most of them escorted us when they managed to put two and two together"

Kaede rolled his shoulders, eyes tracking to the door of Lucian's room.

"Word spread quickly. We thought about moving you, but Librarian Mendoza wanted to keep you under observation while he sealed your arm off. Moving you became pointless"

So his limb had been contained by the Crimson Fists?

Lucian kept note of that.

He needed someone to thank after all.

The youth's thoughts turned toward the same door that Vownus was focused on.

"What's out there?"

Kaede remained silent.

"Vownus?" Lucian asked again, suddenly drawing the Inquisitor's attention to him.

"I've never been described as a devout person" the Inquisitor finally answered, "but I understand Faith. I understand the fire it can light within a soul. Your actions have ignited an inferno among many. Many will look to you now. Mind what you say and do"

Lucian found his eyes on the door.

"How many?"

Vownus shook his head, "many" he stepped up to the silver metal door, fingers already curling around it's handle.

"Come. Let's get this over with"

"When are we going to talk about the Prophecy? About your Cabal?"

The sudden question caught the Inquisitor off guard. Kaede spun to look at Lucian, his hand still on the doorhandle.

The youth's gaze was fixed upon his own.

"Well," Vownus shrugged slightly, "we could sit down and chat about it now…. If you're ready?"

"Ready?"

Vownus almost scoffed.

"Lucian. If this Prophecy is correct… then it would be the roadmap of your life…. And no matter what it reveals, good or bad, the events to come are inevitable, unchangeable"

Vownus words were soft, gentle.

"Knowing your fate can be a heavy burden, Kiddo"

Lucian realized what he was being told.

Vownus was warning him, subtly. He was trying to tell him to wait, even though he would never refuse Lucian's request to hear it…

Vownus's words struck a deep fear that Lucian hadn't even known he possessed.

"Later. We'll talk later" the youth muttered.

"Of course" Vownus glanced back to the door, and the youth eyed it with a doubtful expression.

Kaede obviously picked up on Lucian's hesitance.

"It's a short walk"

That managed the get the youth to step forward.

As Vownus stepped forth, Lucian followed in his guide's wake.

Without a single thought regarding it, he stepped through the silver door.

---

Outside the room was an odd sight.

"Lucian. I am glad you are finally amongst the living"

Aethod's presence drew Lucian's immediate attention.

"So am I, Aethod" the youth managed to answer, his mind failing to find anything else to say as he observed the other occupants in the corridor beyond his former resting place.

Including the Astral Knight, there were five others.

Aethod, Seraphis and Ivur were each familiar faces.

The other two, another Space Wolf and what Lucian believed to be a Crimson Fist, stood side by side in silent attention.

"Quite the display"

Lucian glanced at Ivur, the one who had spoken words into the silent lul of conversation.

"Now is not the time" Vownus cut into the burgeoning conversation, smothering it with his abrupt gesture toward the length of the corridor.

"You are correct" the unnamed Crimson Fist declared, his head tilting away from Lucian and toward the Inquisitor "they are all gathered. They await the Child"

Lucian wanted to explode at the word choice, but Vownus snappily agreed to the Son of Dorn's words.

"Good. Let's get this over with"

As Vownus lead and Lucian followed, the five Astartes formed up around them. Lucian noticed how each of them held a position in a perfect formation around himself.

A distant image appeared in his mind, Golden Figures surrounding the Emperor.

…these were his Guard.

For now.

Lucian pushed these thoughts away as they exited the Hab block. As the youth stepped out into the open air of Hive Primaris, he suddenly understood what Vownus was talking about when the Inquisitor said 'many'.

---

They were camped out around the building. Guardsmen, civilians… even some Astartes… the large crowd had taken up positions amongst the rubble, remaining pathways, and even the buildings that surrounded the one Habblock in particular.

A relative silence, broken by occasional chattering and quiet conversation, blanketed the entire area.

Even though the war had ended a Hive City was never truly a quiet place.

But here, silence reigned.

And then the Emperor's Son emerged, his personal Guardians forming a clear barrier around him.

Eyes twisted, heads turned, and words were lost.

Many stood, each of them placing their full attention on the sight before them.

The Emperor's Son was before them.

He wore relatively clean robes, their worn nature merely a result of time and use, rather than intentional damage. The crowd parted as the Child and his protector's neared them, the many people standing aside as the Inquisitor cut a line through them.

Eyes that glowed with a deep gold energy drifted across the features of many.

The Emperor's Son was looking at them, his face twisted into a somber expression.

No one spoke, each and every one of them refusing to be the first to break the reverent silence that held them all down.

But like a dam pushed to the brink, eventually a voice would call out.

"Praise the Emperor!"

Shouts and cries came out of the crowd like a tidal wave.

"Glory!"

"-raise the Emperor! He Who-"

"-oh blessed Lord! Thy Light-"

The cacophony of fervent prayer reached an incredible crescendo as the crowd vibrated with jubilant energy. And when it seemed as if the mass of people would suddenly spring forth, a wave of bright light bloomed from Lucian.

Silence returned like a hammer fall as the flickering embers of golden light twisted around the Emperor's Son.

And the youth spoke.

"Brave Warriors, Citizens of Balor"

In the silence, his declaration carried over a great distance. For a second, the youth almost seemed uncertain of himself, his entire group coming to a halt as he spoke to the crowd.

A few would not how the Inquisitor was looking at the Emperor's Son with open faced caution.

"The Emperor see's all that transpires amongst His Imperium. He has seen what you have done here. I am honored to say that I fought alongside you, even though you faced great odds. Your victory is because the Emperor wills it so. Father would be proud of you all"

At the last words from his mouth, the calls from the crowd emerged once more.

But the fervent nature of them had changed.

Thankful exclamations, promises and calls for thanks dominated the more zealot in nature.

The youth and his protectors continued to pass through the crowd, now without fear of some kind of negative reaction.

Word of this instance spread across the people of Balor like wildfire.

---

The doors to the Chapel's central sanctum swung open with a bang.

Light spilled in from the outside corridor, a small group of people stepping into the towering hall.

Angels of the Emperor decorated every beam and support column, flickering candle light dancing across the inscribed marble that comprised their forms.

Lining the pathway into the sanctum were Space Marines, standing at the ready for the beginning of this great meeting.

Both the sudden movement and sound drew the eye of every Astartes in the grand chamber.

The Space Wolves, Astral Knights and Crimson Fists were present, their leaders standing at the gathered assembly at the peak of the religious dias.

They had gathered here as soon as their chosen representatives had informed them that the Child had awoken.

Four staircases, each equidistant from the other, led up to the central dias of the room.

At this summit, a small effigy meant for profound yet personal prayer was set upon the smooth marbled surface.

Here, at the peak where light shone through the broken painted glass above them, stood the entirety of the Space Marines leadership.

Kjarl Grimblood, Wolf Lord of the Fire Wolves, stood alongside Torrid and Otalig Hammersbald. The two Guards flanked their Lord. Kjarl Grimblood had his eyes upon the small effigy, but his thoughts were upon the possible conflict that was yet to come.

His mind wandered to a key proponent of that potential problem, the Crimson Fist Chapter Master that stood directly across from him.

Pedro Kantor had reacted to the sound of the chamber doors opening, his helmeted head swiftly turning to the nearest staircase on his left.

Beside him was his Master of the Librariaus, Eustace Mendoza.

Torrid had already mentioned many times that this particular Astartes was very dangerous, when it came to his abilities in the Warp. Even Ivur had cautioned Kjarl regarding this individual.

And the last representative of their own Chapter's presence was the lone figure of Germael, Chapter Master of the Astral Knights.

Germael the Brave, as the people called him.

News of the Astral Knights' glory filled assault, just prior to the Child ending the Xenos for good, had spread amongst the people.

And the Knight stood there by himself, helmet mag locked to his side. He stood alone because his Brethren were taking to their new duties they had suddenly received with gusto.

For their numbers had been bolstered.

Kjarl had thought it a rash decision, but also understood that the Astral Knight's numbers had dwindled to only a handful.

However they did have a large number of Neophytes, some dangerously old to even consider the process of Uplifting to a full Astartes… but Kjarl knew they were determined.

They were Sons of Dorn, and the only thing stopping them from bolstering their numbers was that they lacked the technology and equipment to perform the operations.

And Pedro Kantor was also a Son of Dorn.

He had permitted the Astral Knights use of the Crimson Fists fleet side facilities to perform their rituals.

Honor and respect had blossomed between the two Space Marine cousins, and within a month, the Astral Knights saw their forces bolstered.

Not all had survived the process, but enough had.

From five survivors, they were now forty strong.

But Kjarl didn't reminisce any further.

A familiar pointed hat peaked over the top of the stairs, the figure of Vownus Kaede slowly coming into view as the man gave a good natured huff.

"Remind me again why we picked the one place with too many stairs?"

Hammersbald's snort of laughter drew the eye of Kjarl and Torrid. The giant Astartes grunted an apology with a bowed head.

And yet Kaede's answer came only a moment after.

"This is sacred ground, Inquisitor. This meeting warrants such use"

Pedro Kantor's tone was solemn and direct, the seriousness of his intent coating every word he spoke.

"I understand," Vownus affirmed, respectfully pulling the hat from his head as he stepped aside.

And his next word's certainly reflected Kantor's own.

"May I present Lucian, Son of the Emperor"

As the Astartes that accompanied him rose into view from either side of him, the young Psyker slowly stepped into view.

From the center of the staircase, the boy appeared wrapped in clothes. His dark hair cascaded across his features, the unruly locks failing to find some manageable equilibrium.

Golden eyes lurked beneath the strands, the energy that emanated from them being the same kind that made up the glowing aura that surrounded the Child.

His image was undeniable.

And his tone was direct and full.

He spoke with authority.

"Pedro Kantor. I thank you and your Chapter for all you have done. However this meeting goes, I do hope you understand that I mean what I say"

Kantor's helmet tilted slightly.

"Your thanks is generous. My Chapter and I are honored to have been of service"

Lucian's eyes swept around the room.

"Where is my Brother?"

The simplicity of the statement bellited how proud the youth's claims were.

As if any that were in earshot hadn't already heard of who the youth was, and how the unnamed Astartes was.

"The Raven Lord is with his flock" Germael was the one to answer the youth, "By his own omission, Lord Corax has little concern for talk. He expressed that you are capable of following through with your choices. We are gathered here to know what your decision is, Lucian. The path is now set by you"

The youth blinked.

Suddenly the pieces fell into place.

This meeting between the Astartes chapters wasn't for them to speak to him…. It was for Lucian to give them commands.

He was here to decide the next move.

His mind raced to quickly conclude as to what the 'next move', should even be.

What was the right thing to do?

…his mind came to one priority over all others, words he had spoken to powerful people with the full intent of his will behind them.

'Humanity need not suffer'

He met the eye and helmeted gaze of each individual before him

"Balor has been hurt by the Greenskins" Lucian openly declared to those in attendance, "has the damage been addressed?"

Kjarl Grimblood spoke first.

"The Crimson Fists are currently managing the orbital security of Balor" the Wolf Lord nodded toward the Astartes Chapter Master in question, "nothing to worry about there."

Kjarl nodded his head down, "but here on the ground, reconstruction and fortification has been… slow"

"How slow?" Lucian was quick to ask.

Kantor had an answer.

"If our fleet were to leave today, Balor would be without a significant defense for years, if not decades"

The Chapter Master gestured to Kaede.

"Your Magos is doing the heavy lifting, Inquisitor, what were his most recent predictions?"

"Magos Nesyon and the rest of my Mechanicus Contingent have indeed made estimations" Vownus quickly spoke up, "And I'll spare you the details, just understand they're not pretty. It'll be slow going. But if the time could be spared the people of Balor certainly wouldn't complain"

Lucian turned to face the Inquisitor.

"How long exactly, are these estimations?"

"Roughly eight months before usable structures have been established. And praying that the Administratum processed my emergency resupply request, another nine or ten months at best, before we see any signs of that"

"Almost two years," Lucian hummed to himself.

The room watched him in silence as the youth thought to himself.

Eventually Lucian seemed to have considered it deeply enough.

"What say you?"

The room remained silent.

"My Lord?"

Pedro Kantor had let the words slip with surprise.

Lucian addressed him directly, turning toward the Chapter Master fully.

"The Crimson Fists have done their duty. The world you have come to liberate has been saved. I ask you, if the decision were up to you, Chapter Master, what would you do?"

Kantor's gigantic form seemed to flinch slightly.

He had not been expecting this direct line of conversation. He had anticipated orders and commands, not an open dialogue.

"I would…"

The Chapter Master hesitated for a moment.

And then he deftly removed his helmet, mag locking it to his side as he looked down upon Lucian with a clear expression.

He had a kindly face, the wrinkles of time just lightly intruding upon his striking and proud features. Light brown hair was shaved clearly atop his lightly marked visage.

He spoke with a clarity filled with concern.

"I would advise you, my Lord, that we make ready to depart as soon as possible"

Lucian considered the action.

"And where would we go?"

"Terra"

The answer was abrupt and immediate. Grimblood's expression turned thoughtful, while Germael crossed his arms.

Vownus went stock still.

Lucian's attention was still focused on Kantor, his back to the Inquisitor.

"You believe I should reunite with Father"

Pedro nodded, "There is no question of this. The Custodes will allow you through. They shall see as we have"

Lucian looked around the room again.

"Does anyone object to this course of action?"

A few figures shifted, but no one spoke.

Lucian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly, "this is a meeting. I ask you all to speak freely. Now is not the time for bitten tongues"

"You can't go to Terra"

Lucian looked back at the Inquisitor, every other eye in the room also tracking to Vownus's grim expression.

Lucian frowned at the man, speaking to him quietly.

"Why?"

Kaede fixed him with a serious look.

"You'll never make it into the Palace, let alone set foot on the world... Not alive at least"

The room tensed.

Vownus explained himself.

"The High Lords of Terra won't let this happen. The Imperium knows of the Emperor's Sons. Corvus, Dorn, and Russ to name a few…. They are faces that will be recognised because they are known. But you're an unknown entity to them, someone that exists outside of their scope. Whatever story you give them, they'll challenge it"

"He is the Emperor's Son!" the Crimson Fists' Librarian barked.

Even as Kantor gestured at the man to return to silence, Vownus kept speaking.

"And I am aware of that! But Lucian is a direct threat to their power, one that they can, and certainly will, find a cause to resist."

"Corvus-"

"Your Brother exists now as a Warp Entity, Lucian. I can't make heads or tails of what he is. Do you really think the Lords of Terra might be able to prove a reasonable doubt, knowing what I've just told you"

Vownus pointed out to the surroundings, "only those connected with the Warp can truly discern the truth, Lucian. Others will be blind to it, willingly or not it doesn't matter…"

Kaede frowned.

"Seeing is believing Kiddo. And saying you go to Terra anyway, knowing you're walking into a viper's nest, if you think that throwing around your presence in the Warp might be a good way to show them the Truth…"

Vownus didn't need to say anything further. Lucian could tell what the man meant.

If he did indeed present himself to the Psyker's and beings of Terra, he may be immediately branded a threat.

"Then let's find him some solid proof that those old bastards can't ignore"

Every eye turned to Kjarl Grimblood.

The Wolf Lord took a step forward, head turning to all in attendance.

"My Chapter stands upon Balor because that is where our Great Hunt had brought us. We have embarked upon many journeys, tirelessly searching the stars in hope of locating our Sire"

Kjarl turned to Lucian, the youth watching as the formerly sour and bestial face of the Wolf Lord took an abrupt twist into a hopeful visage.

"We seek Leman Russ. Your Brother"

The Wolf Lord bowed low to Lucian.

"With your permission my Lord, all our objectives may be fulfilled" he raised himself up, his eyes cast upon the youth.

"Everything that has happened has led us here for purpose. This is why our Hunt has brought us to Balor, my Lord. It is both Ivur's belief and my own that you are the key to finding Leman Russ"

"You speak of Divination" Vownus's voice was hard.

Likely because he had just begun to realize that the Wolves did indeed have plan's regarding Lucian. Before the boy showed his true colors, and they had assumed he was just some obscenely powerful Psyker, they had been scheming.

Kaede didn't know whether to laugh or cuss.

"The boy is untrained in the tangled webs of Prophecy, yes" Ivur's voice floated into the discussion, "but I would be honored to rectify this oversight"

Kjarl took back the horns of the room's focus, carrying on after his Rune Priest settled back into a comfortable silence.

"While we rebuild Balor, you could be trained, my Lord. Then we may seek out our Primarch, and then together, allow you to safely travel to Terra"

The room went silent.

And Lucian was prepared to shatter this quiet with his affirmation, but another voice pierced the still vale.

"Corvus Corax is unlike what he was. Who is to say that Leman Russ has not suffered a similar fate in the thousands of years he has been missing?"

The Space Wolves stirred at Germael's blunt observation, their eyes darting to the Astral Knight and his open mouthed contemplation.

"It is a possibility" Pedro Kantor echoed acknowledgement to his Cousin Chapter's point, "finding Leman Russ and learning of what has become of him may not be the key to arriving at Terra"

Kjarl growled but said nothing.

It was the truth, and he was not a hot headed Blood Claw anymore. Lord Grimblood knew that there was indeed a possibility that Leman Russ may be… different.

Corvus Corax was proof enough.

The young Son of the Emperor stole everyone's attention as his voice rumbled with power.

"Father wishes me to help him. He has told me as such. He has also said that finding my Brother's would help me in my task. Possibilities be damned, whether we get to Terra or not matters little, we will find my Kin…."

His golden glow swirled with an ethereal gust of power.

"...We will find Leman Russ, for the Emperor wills it so"

---

The time to acknowledge the toll of the Ork Invasion had come.

As the hour grew late, all across the planet in the Hive Cities that remained standing, large swarms of people began to cluster around the still standing Churches of the Ecclesiarchy.

The surviving servants of the Imperial faith conducted prayers as names and deeds were recorded. Many people broke down in tears, finally being given the verbally spoken truth that a loved one, family, or someone they knew, had died.

While most of the people prayed at these functions, the Guard led a solemn parade into the outer city.

There, a site had been cleared under the Inquisitor's swift command.

Each Guardsman brought what they could, a small token given to an ever growing pile that represented one of their fallen.

The Regiments that had been taken to the last had their banners collected and presented to the site.

There were many banners amongst the giant pile.

When the parade ended, the members of the Mechanics got to work.

The first construction in the outer city would be a monument, made from the memories of the dead. Here, the actions and deeds of Balor's finest would be immortalized.

…and what a large monument it would be.

---

"I didn't think I'd manage to walk in here," Vownus quietly admitted.

In the long corridor that doubled as a Mausoleum to the Paxat family, Vownus didn't know why he had to speak…

But he needed to fill the dreadful silence.

"Though it would probably feel rude and all if I didn't…"

His hat was in his hands, his head bowed slightly.

He couldn't make eye contact with the smooth marble that had only been recently engraved.

'Andoa Paxat'

"...I don't really know what to say…" Kaede mumbled.

Silence bloomed between the Governor's grave and the quiet Inquisitor that stood before it.

"I'm sorry you're dead. It… it wasn't supposed to happen like this…"

Kaede shook his head.

"You were a good person in life. May you find some peace in your eternal rest"

His hat returned to his head as he locked eyes with the empty grave.

They didn't even have a body to bury…

She had been denied even that, the chance to rest amongst her honorable kin.

Kaede's fingers tightened.

No.

Her soul would find peace.

Yet his hand remained clenched even as he turned away from the grave, his mind numb to the numbering dead on either side of him.

His mind belted the same question at him again and again.

'Why her?'

His hand tightened further.

---

The Adeptus Astartes had all tended to their own.

For the Astral Knights, and their recently bolstered numbers, the passing of Thade and Tiberec was met with a solemn vigil.

For six nights they stood beside the gravestones erected for Thade, whose body had not been recovered from the loss of the Outer Wall, and the grave of Tiberec.

Rhamine stood at the head of his Brother's Grave.

For each night that passed, his shoulders had not slumped, his posture had not changed.

Beneath the earth lay the form of Tiberec, bereft of his armor and weapons.

No longer a person in his own right, merely a body returned to the earth.

Rhamine's form radiated strength. The eyes of the newly uplifted Marines all observed the solemn Knight.

The surviving battle brother had been elevated to the rank of Sergeant, the influx of fully fledged Knight's now requiring a deeper restructuring of their ranks.

Upon his breast plate he bore a new symbol besides the mark of his Captaincy.

Crossed swords. While this was the sign of Kinship amongst the Knights, it also denoted another title.

Champion.

A role filled by a singular Knight.

Germael had anointed him as such due to his actions during the War, but Rhamine felt the bitter sting of a painful reminder that this Brother was indeed dead.

For the Champion stands alone.

Six nights passed far too slowly.

And as their vigil came to an end, Rhamine turned his thoughts away from the dead and instead focused upon the living.

He was to be the example that every Knight looked upon.

And Rhamine wasn't sure if he was completely up to the task, but for Tiberec's sake, he would try.

---

Freyr watched the ritual from afar.

Shrouded by the darkness cast by a waning day against a damaged structure, the Lone Wolf kept his eyes fixed upon Ivur.

Lord Grimblood was before the Rune Priest, head bowed as he received a blessing. Ivur spoke the old tongue, his request for the All-Fathers favor reaching into the silence of flickering torch light.

All the Wolf Guard were there, each a bearer of the many torches that lit up the sky against the encroaching darkness.

Their ritual took place within the city, at the feet of the remains of the western gate house.

Joran was dead.

And those closest to him now mourned.

Freyr, Ivur's disciple, was only permitted to be here by technicality, but while he would not take part in the Ceremony, Freyr wished to pay his respects to the fallen warrior.

Joran had been kind.

Someone he would have called a friend in time. Of this Freyr was certain. But it seemed fate had other plans.

His eyes roamed across the Wolf Guard.

Kjarl Grimblood wore his sorrow well, but the faces of his closest warriors were a wide spanning variety.

Hammersbald was cut from stone, his angrily tense features now completely relaxed into a glacial visage.

His eyes were cold.

The normally boisterous warrior was a silent statue, a far cry from his regular self.

Freyr was unnerved by the sight.

Angry was common amongst the others.

Some wore sadness and pain far more openly than some.

Ulvarr was one such warrior. His face was tight with pain, his expression dour and forlorn.

Torrid too, seemed just as stung by Joran's loss.

It was odd to see Svessl so serious. His laidback nature had been submerged by a motionless face. He was tightly controlled, perhaps even furious, but it never showed.

Eiran the Grim looked tired.

The Old Wolf was pained, this was certain, but he had an air of exhaustion about him. He was tired of this… sick of burying his kin…

Freyr shared a similar sense of pain with Eiran.

The Lone Wolf's eyes stopped on the next face.

Kurgskald was furious, his fangs occasionally bearing in a snarl.

The Temper was shared by Thunderback.

Tyrur and three of his wolves stood beside the normally silent Kurgskald, one or two of the Wolves lightly growling in response to their Master's rage.

Freyr was always curious about the connection between man and beast, but had always known it to be a close bond.

Tyrur's companions felt his fury, even if there was no enemy before them, the Wolves attempting to find a way to eliminate the feeling.

Their master was threatened by a feeling and foe that a beast may never understand.

Loss.

Ivur's chant came to a close, stepping aside as Lord Grimblood gestured the torch bearers forward.

Behind the Wolf Priest was the gathered pyre.

In Promethium, Joran's body was doused upon its final resting place of Fenrisian Wood. The Axe of Russ had such supplies in storage still, and the time had finally come for a ceremony was necessary.

The Wolf Guard approached, encircling their fallen comrade before casting their torches into the pyre.

Freyr's mind jolted for two reasons.

The first was that he finally noticed there were only nine torches, when there should have been ten.

A face was missing from the Wolf Guard, one that he did not wish to see and thus had not looked for.

The second reason was the sudden sound of footsteps spilling into his ear.

As the pyre ignited, the light of the sudden all consuming flame revealed the figure that now stood beside him.

Skorn Myrksyn silently observed the fiery ceremony as Freyr quietly gazed at him.

The Lone Wolf was afraid that Skorn was here for some perceived slight, ready to take offense at his presence at Joran's funeral.

Skorn seemed to prefer the silence, and in these tense moments Freyr blinked.

What was Skorn doing here, and not at the pyre-

"Joran died because of me"

The quiet admission was almost lost due to how swiftly Skorn had breathed the whispered words into existence, but Freyr would be the only one to hear it.

As Skorn turned to look the Lone Wolf in the eye, the flames reached high into the sky.

"And you did not hesitate. You avenged him"

Skorn smiled sadly.

"I was a fool, Freyr. A fool to believe that you spurned my honor. Oggar died… and you avenged him, just as you avenged your Pack…." Skorn looked to the gathering of Space Wolves, "...just as you have avenged Joran"

He nodded forward, taking a step from the shadows of Freyr's place of observation.

Skorn turned to face the Lone Wolf.

"Come with me, Brother"

At the words, Freyr felt a heartbeat of indecision.

He dared not hope…

But he stepped forward as well, following after Skorn's steady pace.

As they approached the gathering, every individual present turned to face them, the fire building behind them all.

"Lord Grimblood"

Skorn's address earned him the attention of everyone.

"Now may not be the time to say this, but I would have it known to you" Skorn turned to look into Freyr's eyes, a hand gesturing toward him in reference.

"I understand now. I would be honored, if Freyr were to join our ranks"

The last holdout against the vote was gone.

All others in attendance agreed with this.

And so the Wolf Guard looked to Lord Grimblood.

Kjarl managed to smile at Skorn, ever so lightly. He was proud that the warrior had overcome his lesser hatred. Skorn had come to terms with his grief.

Lord Grimblood made a simple declaration.

"It shall be so"

---

To Caius, the world felt numb.

Day and night passed without note, the warmth of the sun rose and fell to the ignorance of the once composed Agent of the Inquisition.

Agent of the Inquisition…

What a joke.

Scruffy and unkempt, Caius remained seated upon one of the still functional balconies of the Church, his feet dangling over the edge of the viewpoint.

Priests would come up here to pray, to try and find a vein of sky between the towering Habblocks beside them.

Caius imagined that this meant they felt their prayers would be free of the city… instead he found the view stifling. Yes the sky was indeed far more visible from hundreds of meters in the air versus the ground… but the daunting structures that ringed around the gap of the cloudless night caused by the Church was suffocating.

The first time he had been up here when he was still coming to terms with Lynwood, Caius had been furious. All the pain he had felt then still burned now, but its focus had shifted.

Anger had morphed into solemn sorrow and grief, instead coldly simmering within his heart and mind as he had learned of the situation so long ago.

When he'd been found by a PDF patrol, it only took a few hours for him to be brought before the Inquisitor.

Vownus had been direct and straight with him.

Lynwood was dead.

Lucian had ended the war.

Lucian was the Emperor's Son.

The incredulity of those facts had brought his troubled mind a few moments of respite as he came to terms with this new information.

But then a sick thought had twisted into his skull, a simple observation that he didn't even properly connect until he ran it over a few more times.

Caius had asked Vownus only one question.

"Why didn't He act sooner?"

Lucian had ended the war. He killed every single one of those vicious, disgusting, beastly monsters that dared-!

The thought of the Greenskins evoked a wave of vitriol.

Caius suppressed it.

The Orks were dead.

And all because the Kid finally stepped up.

Caius had felt a cold blade of spite worm its way into his mind at the thought… if Lucian had acted sooner, if the rippling waves of gold had cleansed Balor only a day sooner, Lynwood would still be alive.

Vownus hadn't answered Caius's question.

Probably because the Inquisitor knew that any answer wouldn't satisfy his Agent.

Instead the man had given him some leave.

Time to himself.

No duties, responsibilities or tasks.

Just time.

Time Caius spent stewing in his thoughts, here at the highest place of solitude he could find.

"You wear your anger like a cloak"

The fitful silence was broken only by the voice of the individual, not by their steps.

But the modulation of an Astartes voice through his helmet was an indistinguishable thing. So before Caius even managed to turn around as he scrambled to his feet, a part of his mind was wondering why one of the Emperor's Finest had come to him.

The sight of the Astral Knight as he silently emerged from the shadows was a fearsome thing to behold.

Towering above him, the Astral Knight presented himself clearly before Caius, Dominius's stance held calmly before the startled Agent.

Caius quickly composed himself as he found himself to his knee after shaking off the surprise.

"My Lord"

"Stand, Agent"

Caius obeyed.

Dominius's helmet was twisted downward ever so slightly, the warrior lowering his head to look directly upon Caius.

On the small balcony, only meters separated the two of them.

"I understand you may wish for solace in your time of grief, Agent Caius. But I would have words with you, should you wish to hear them"

Caius felt his mind fizzle.

Dominius wished to speak to him directly. Not under the order of any other? Why? What did an Astartes need to say to a-

His silence had stretched on for too long.

Caius made a snap decision.

"I would, my Lord"

"Anger is a tool. A blade that may strike fiercely, commanded only by your will, and yours alone"

Dominius slowly stepped forth to the view that Caius stood beside, gesturing out to the city below.

"The citizens of the Imperium may not understand this, but a warrior does. A Warrior must. Those that deal in war, in death and judgment, must learn how to control their anger"

The Astral Knight tilted his helmet ever so slightly, his gaze turning skyward.

"You are not in control of your anger, Caius Helix. And I am afraid that if this remains so… I will have no choice but to treat you as a potential threat"

Standing beside this giant figure, Caius felt a spike of fear at the cold words.

Suddenly the height of the balcony seemed to feel higher.

All it would take is a small push… and Caius wouldn't be able to stop the Astartes…

"Thoughtless anger will surely lead you to damnation. The forces of the enemy are always looking for a foothold, and for one that will hold council with the youth, will be in his presence…."

Dominius shook his head.

"I cannot allow that"

The Astartes turned to face Caius directly.

"But you have promise, Caius Helix. I know of your deeds"

Dominius inclined his head.

"We are allies now, serving a mission greater than we could have ever imagined. Thus, I offer to train you now, to teach you to wield your anger with thought and purpose"

Caius didn't know what to say for a few seconds.

Either die here and now, or… be taught? Lessons. Instruction.

The Agent didn't have to weigh the pros and cons for very long.

"I accept your offer my Lord"

---

Germael had arrived at the site with Aethod by his side.

Ground Zero.

The center point for Lucian's purge of the Orks. After the area had been secured, the Crimson Fists had stood guard for the entirety of it since the event.

But Germael and Aethod were expected, so they were allowed to walk past the one of many squads that ringed the space.

At the center of the site were Pedro Kantor, Eustace Mendoza, Kjarl Grimblood and Ivur Sverdsyn.

The Psykers were standing before the topic of discussion, their attention focused solely upon the manipulation of the Warp. Aethod could feel the whispers of their tender examinations, but did not say or do anything before Germael spoke.

The Chapter Master of the Astral Knights came upon Kantor and Grimblood in the middle of a tense argument.

"-regardless of his ability to wield it, it is dangerous. Damn what the Inquisitor thinks, it should be contained!"

Kjarl snarled out a laugh, "If Vownus's fears are correct, which I am not saying they are, then you cannot simply contain this Weapon. It cannot just be locked away"

The Wolf Lord turned his head to the Astral Knights. Germael was in the process of removing his helmet as Lord Grimblood spoke out to the Knight. Pedro as well looked over at the approaching figures.

"And unless your cousins come to a different conclusion, the sword will go to the one who called upon it"

Germael drew Pedro's eyesight for a second, the two sons of Dorn nodding to each other in a momentary greeting.

The Astral Knight addressed them all, "I see we are still at odds with one another"

Kjarl scoffed, "it was your decision to abstain, Knight"

Germael looked over the slight dig from his wolven ally, instead looking over to Eustace and Ivur.

"Has anything changed?"

"The Sword draws its strength from the realm of Chaos" Pedro frowned, "of this we are certain"

"But it is not possessed by a Daemon or entity"

A flutter of power waved over Aethod, who's gaze was the first to snap to the now focused and present Ivur.

The Rune Priest still hefted his staff in both hands, only recently emerging from his examinations through the Immaterium, and still somewhat uneasy on his feet.

Ivur glanced down at the weapon that the Crimson Fist still examined. He looked at it for only a moment before speaking again to the others.

"It is a conduit. A direct connection to a foul and deep place within the Warp"

Kjarl shot Pedro a savage grin.

This was what Vownus had said. The blade was one from the ancient times of Terra, one that was tied to the Patron God that had forged it.

The Sword was made for war.

Eustace Mendoza broke his concentration, swiftly standing upright and shaking himself. The Crimson Fist abruptly turned to look at his Chapter Master.

"This blade is beyond my comprehension, my Lord"

The humble admission drew a brief moment of silence between all that were gathered.

Kantor looked Ivur directly in the eye.

"You are certain?"

The Rune Priest hummed in thought for a moment.

"Vownus is a clever man. And considering the Forces at play here, considering Lucian's now revealed nature… he has not made that guess from a position of ignorance. In fact I suspect he has kept the complete truth to himself…." Ivur's gaze turned to the Librarian of the Astral Knights.

"What say you, Aethod?"

In that moment, Aethod knew he had to be careful.

His options were twofold…

Tell the truth.

Or lie.

To tell the truth would be damaging.

Aethod knew that for certain.

Because he believed that Vownus was probably right. About everything. Since the beginning Kaede had confided in the Knights and told them of Lucian's presumed purpose. And if he had been right about that, then Lucian's admittance to the gift…

Then that was true too.

The Sword was the Gift of the Blood God himself, bestowed upon Lucian for the sake of satisfying some pact made between the Emperor Himself and the Unholy Four.

Aethod himself hadn't been able to yet deal with the truth of the 'deal' made between the Emperor of Mankind and Chaos… how would the others react?

No.

Not now, not while the ground was still settling beneath their feet.

But to lie…

Aethod didn't know if he could do that to his fellow Astartes.

Lies were a dangerous thing. They were a deep wound in waiting, only uncovered once the truth came out.

Aethod was stuck for a moment.

Until he realized he had to do both.

"I agree" he nodded, "Vownus has not told us everything. I imagine he has drawn whatever conclusions he can from the Prophecy, but has kept some of them-"

"Prophecy?"

Mendoza's sudden question cut right through Aethod's answer.

Aethod faced Mendoza directly.

"Yes. Vownus works under the machinations of a long dead diviner"

Pedro Kantor asked the next question. His serious expression merged with the coldly delivered words.

"What guarantee of authenticity does the dead have?"

"The Diviner predicted the Heresy" Kjarl grimblood replied, "that's enough of a guarantee for me"

Pedro fixed the Wolf Lord with a heavy look.

"Have you seen this Prophecy?"

Kjarl shook his head, "not in person. But Vownus told myself and my Wolves of its content"

Pedro looked over at Germael.

"We are aware of some specific details… but none of my Knights has seen the total Prophecy"

Eustace spoke up as his Chapter Master went silent in contemplation.

"Inquisitors are not typically known for their ability to impart the complete truth, if any at all, Lord Grimblood"

"Aye" the Wolf Lord affirmed, "they are not. But having seen Lucian, having experienced what he is capable of…"

Kjarl slowly grinned, "do you really think Vownus is lying?"

"No" Pedro Kantor stiffly replied, "I do not"

The Chapter Master of the Crimson fists looked upon the blade that the Inquisitor believed to be an ancient relic.

"...but Kaede has not told us everything"

---

Vartic had been sitting peacefully in front of one of the many honorary pyres for some time. While Balor's traditional funeral ceremony had been a somewhat odd affair, the Necromundan couldn't help but enjoy it.

With the Guard Ceremony finished, all the walks of life of Balor banded together for one purpose.

A night to remember the dead with fond cheer, to not let the loss haunt them.

From what Vartic understood, the festival came from Balor's ancestors, when the first settlers of the world still had to claim control of it.

The fighting had been intense back then, Balor being a host to a dangerous Xenos species leading to much bloodshed.

As History can attest, the people of Balor are no strangers to loss.

They knew that now was not the time to sink into despair and grief.

Rejoice!

Hail the Victorious dead!

We have prevailed!

And all were included in this festival of memory.

Somber stories had been regaled between friend's and comrades at first, but as time passed, as those that lived spoke and softly nursed Baloran and Fenrisian Mead soon the tales turned joyous.

Laughter had echoed out amongst the many gatherings of people.

Vartic hadn't said much, but he'd laughed where fond jokes had been uttered. He nodded at those which spoke upon him or a subject related to him, but Vartic had never engaged.

And the older man had been content to just sit back and experience the slowly building festivities.

Until a strange but familiar noise tickled the back of his ears.

Vartic twisted in his seat, spinning around to see where the sound had come from.

Ezekiel couldn't help but blurt from his seat beside the now alert Corporal, "is that what I think it is?"

Vartic's eyes locked on the source of the noise.

…his old one had been destroyed a while ago. Years ago in fact. And what he saw did not appear to be the same instrument he knew. Instead of steel it was wood. But the noise it invoked, that was nigh identical.

A bit bassier to be certain, but the same.

"It is. You should- easy now!"

Vartic had found his feet before Ezekiel could blink.

By the time the blond youth was upon his own feet, Vartic was nearly upon the unsuspecting Balorian that had brought out the instrument.

Many of the musician's comrades had their eyes upon the swiftly approaching Necromundan, and the younger man turned around to face Vartic's bemused face.

"Neat instrument"

The Balorian gave a friendly laugh, "a family heirloom. Spike, Balor's 228th" the now named Soldier reached out a hand.

The Necromundan shook.

"Vartic. Necromunda's 501st"

The man raised a brow, gesturing to the space beside him, "you fought at the front, during the Astartes assault?"

Vartic took the seat, raising his tankard of ale he had not forgotten, "quite the show the Emperor's Finest put on"

Spike snorted, gesturing at the instrument, "indeed. But I believe you're not here for idle conversation"

"Oh I am" Vartic smiled, "a good conversation isn't something to miss out on. But I do admit to being very curious about your instrument"

"Because?" Spike grinned, "I don't suppose they have these on Necromunda"

"Something similar" Vartic shrugged, "hence the curiosity"

"So you'd like to play?" Spike twirled the neck of the instrument in his free hand, the body of the thing twisting in the dirt.

The Necromundan didn't think that was good for the wood, but didn't say that. Instead Vartic answered the man with "I'd like to try"

And the Instrument was passed to him.

"Never was any good" Spike simply admitted with a lopsided smile, "and you seem confidently determined"

Vartic slowly let this instrument slip into his grip, one hand across its body while the other was up at the neck. Its boxy and curved body was resting across his lap, and while this wasn't an identical copy to his own, theoretically it should handle the same-

Vartic's fingers pinched and danced across the wires that ran up the neck as his other hand brushed their lengths.

The guitar hummed a sweet but loud chord.

A few heads turned.

Vartic's initial success emboldened him.

He knew the key that the instrument was in.

And so he did what he could.

As the staccato of notes was twisted in with a wave of harmonics and expression, Vartic couldn't help himself. It had been so long. His fingers continued to dance.

"What the-"

"-who's playing that-"

"-Vartic! Y'all, Vartic's got a-!"

"-come on! I wanna-!"

The Necromundan didn't hear any of it. His little warmup was gaining a serious influx of attention, but Vartic was only obsessed with the sound of the instrument.

The wood was wonderful. Because of the material the sounds were rich and pure. A soothing basis for his manipulation of melody.

Besides, his fingers needed a warm up.

His eyes closed tightly as he recalled all of his practice. He was rusty, that was certain, but he plowed right on through.

Vartic played until he began to sweat.

Soon enough however, he reached a comfortable conclusion.

He decisively slashed his music silent and opened his eyes. The sudden applause and cheers from a small, but growing, crowd of onlookers caught him by surprise.

Spike applauded from beside him, "confident for a reason!" he laughed.

Vartic chuckled, taking a sip from his mug, "thank you"

After a moment of silence Spike cocked an eyebrow, "so?"

"So?" Vartic repeated.

Spike gestured at the instrument, "you done?"

Vartic blinked, "oh! Well… if it's alright with you, I would enjoy playing some more"

The Balorian owner of the Instrument just barked with laughter, pointing towards the people that had approached the once small gathering.

"I don't think there'll be any complaints from around here, let alone myself"

Vartic grinned.

"Well alright then"

---

For once, Lucian was alone.

Although he spent the entirety of his time outside his temporary Balorian dwelling flanked by Astartes Librarians or Vownus… or both, for once he was by himself.

Completely alone.

Just him in his sparsely decorated room within the Church.

And Lucian didn't like it.

He wanted to be outside.

He wanted a moment to just breathe. But instead he was forced under the suffocating attention by every Imperial on the planet.

He wasn't just Lucian, powerful Psyker and Inquisitorial Operative anymore.

The people knew he was the Emperor's Son.

Lucian knew this was why the Astartes went with him everywhere. Even now the people were crowded around the Church, seeking to catch some sight or sign that he was still present.

They wished to look upon one crafted in the image of the Emperor.

And Lucian imagined many of them might have been disappointed if they knew the truth. That he wasn't some saint or pious protector.

He was young, foolish, and woefully unprepared to bear the complete responsibility of his authority.

Before Lucian could have moved mountains with his power alone.

Now, he could command others to reshape the planet to his will.

His Authority was blessed by the divine.

None could or would question him.

And damn it, he wanted to walk around like a normal person could, to freely see what had happened to Balor and its people after the war.

He had to know if they were alright… he had to know if… if…

"Fuck this" Lucian pulled himself to his feet and closed his eyes.

He wanted to go outside.

But he didn't want to cause a fuss.

So he decided he'd do his best to hide in plain sight.

If Corvus could do it, Lucian knew it was possible.

He didn't have to completely vanish his presence… but enough that he could slip by as just any old civilian. He wished to walk with Balor's people by their side, rather than at the front.

Reaching into his core, Lucian powers flickered for a moment.

The Astartes that stood guard on the opposite side of the door had certainly noticed the wave, but took no heed in it.

Lucian had spent his isolated hours practicing what exercises Ivur had primed him with. The path of divination was dangerous, and Lucian was only beginning to come to terms with that for how exhaustive and abstract the tasks the Rune priest had given him were.

So the Psykers didn't pay attention to another wave of Warp energy that reverberated outward, before sailing back in.

Lucian felt cold.

But he had willed the source of his strength into a small ball.

Tightly compact and fiercely kept at bay, Lucian's presence was submerged between the folds of reality.

Only upon close inspection could another Psyker discern the truth, but for now Lucian knew this would have to do.

It took all of his focus to keep the monster that lurked within him from bursting forth once more, but eventually he was as inconspicuous as he had been when he was seven.

"Golden glowing problem solved" Lucian hummed to himself, glancing at the door, "now to get out of the room…"

He couldn't use the Warp.

But his body was strong. Khrone's gift had not just been the sword.

He was now greater than any mortal man, capable of clashing with an Astartes in hand to hand combat. Though his allies were not aware of this yet.

Lucian knew Vownus had his suspicions, but he hadn't directly wished to answer the man.

Because he himself wasn't certain what exactly Khrone had done to him.

After all, the drastic physical changes he had undergone could be a side effect of the blade…

Lucian didn't think that was the case, since he was separated from the blade as of this moment, but didn't dismiss the possibility.

Eventually, the young Son of the Emperor would speak to his council regarding this development… but not now.

Lucian looked to the window.

Gothic architecture was grand, but also incredibly decorative.

Lot's of hand and foot holds to take advantage of.

It didn't take him very long to make his decision.

He quickly exchanged his clothing for his set of combat pants, boots and shirt. He didn't need the armor plates, just a nondescript set of black that bore little of his identity. Across his shoulders and covering his torso would be his robe, the brown material bundled up to cover the Inquisitorial highlights upon his dirty sleeve of war attire.

With his hair pulled under a brown hood, he would appear like any other curious civilian.

Lucian appraised himself once and then set straight off through the window.

He scaled the church's exterior for five minutes until he reached the ground.

From there, he set off into the night, seamlessly vanishing through the crowd that was settled around the structure.

---

Vartic's music had brought a massive crowd.

And to the crowd's delight, its very presence had also drawn up a few more competent musicians sparsely threaded throughout the masses.

What was just a one man show had become a multi-membered group of talented artists, each capable of weaving a wonderful muse.

Then they'd started to work together.

Strength was found in their collaboration.

Each note from every instrument culminated into a wonderful performance. Of course there were a few rough notes and some odd sounds, but the somewhat inebriated crowd couldn't care less.

At the end of each jam came wave after wave of applause, which in turn grew the size of the crowd.

The noise carried far and wide.

---

Once he'd navigated away from the Church, Lucian couldn't help but be drawn to the wonderful sounds that blossomed from the south.

The cheering was clear in its nature, but the other strange noise that intermingled between it?

Lucian couldn't make heads or tails of it, but he was intrigued.

Because it sounded good.

How could he not be curious?

Swiftly cutting through a few more walkways, the youth came upon the beginning of a massive crowd.

At the center of the throng of people was the source of noise, but he couldn't see it through the sea of bodies that lay before him.

With a decision of pure determination backing him, Lucian stepped into the crowd of mostly Guardsmen.

Deftly twisting and moving, the youth steered himself through the cracks of people and managed to jostle his way to the front.

The crackling fire illuminated the gathered circle of five Guardsmen and two Civilians.

Each of them possessed a strange set of tools, that after a few seconds of their use Lucian realized were the source of the music.

It was wonderful.

A face stood out amongst these talented people, and Lucian couldn't help but grin.

Vartic was there, sitting amongst all the beautiful sounds as he sweated over his instrument.

It was a moving sight.

To see one so dedicated and skilled fully express their ability was captivating. Lucian now understood why the crowd had formed.

As the song came to an end and the applause and cheering erupted once more, the Musicians took a moment to chat amongst themselves.

As they decided what to do next, the crowd around Lucian began to chat amongst itself. Many turned to one another and spoke to friends and comrades alike. Lucian shied away from making eye contact with anyone, prepared to wait until the music started once more and everyone's attention was returned to it.

A hand on his arm wasn't what he was hoping for.

"You shouldn't be out here"

And the youth hadn't been expecting that voice either.

Ezekiel stood beside him, his soft words invisible to the loudly chatting others around them.

Lucian raised an eyebrow, "you're telling me what to do, Zeke?"

The Guardsman went white like a sheet.

Lucian couldn't help but laugh, "A joke. I appreciate your concern" he smiled.

Stepping closer to him, Lucian's Guardsman friend spoke even quieter. If anyone picked up on what he said, it would cause a scene.

"If you are recognised, my Lord, it will cause a scene"

Lucian smiled softly, "I'm sure I can handle it. And we're friend's, Zeke. Call me Lucian"

The Guardsman was taken aback for a few moments.

"I am honored"

Lucian patted his arm, "please. What I am matters little. I would only ask you to treat me as your friend and comrade, Zeke. Nothing more, nothing less."

Lucian held out a hand to the Guardsman, an offer.

Ezekiel stared at the limb in awe.

"Friends?" Lucian offered, a soft joy in his smile and Zeke's abrupt refocusing on his face.

Even though it did not glow with ethereal golden power, the Guardsman was captivated.

"Friends" was what the man settled on.

Lucian smiled, nodded, and looked back to the musicians. It seemed as if they had decided on what to do next.

"Here"

Lucian's gaze was brought to Zeke's offering.

A metal mug filled with an amber liquid was held out to him.

Lucian looked at it questioningly.

"It's Vartic's. He's a bit busy right now" Lucian chuckled at the obvious observation, "... and if he doesn't have it, someone else certainly will"

"This is… alcohol?" Lucian asked, taking the mug.

Zeke nodded, before his eyes glinted.

"First time?"

Lucian nodded, taking a careful measure of the somewhat deep mug in silence.

"Don't drink it too fast" Zeke advised, "and it always tastes like shit at first… even though this Fenrisian stuff is far better"

Lucian thought of the word for a moment.

"The Space Wolves distributed this?"

Ezekiel chuckled.

"Seems their Serf's wished to share some of their own cultural highlights"

Lucian gave a contemplative humm.

As he took his first tentative sip of the ale, the music started up once more.

His light cough and Ezekiel's reactionary laughter vanished under the sounds of celebration.

---

AN:

Holy schmoley. Glad you all loved the previous chapter so much. Before I say anything further, lemme address them reviews.

---

Uday Sra: Cheers man. Glad it was awesome.

desropter: I am become Death, Destroyer of Cannon. From here on out the scale of things is gonna be expanding. We've only just begun the journey my friend.

Argent345: Your hopes have been answered... for now. And a Space Battle is in the works. Just need to flesh out all the participants. Hope it lives up to the hype.

AxeTheGreat: Thanks man. Means a lot. Glad you enjoyed it.

Donout: Hell yeah. I was hoping the moment would hit right, especially after so much building lol. Glad it payed off for you.

GHTitanic: Hope this one was worth the wait too haha

Janny092: BLOOD FOR THE EMPEROR! SKULLS FOR THE GOLDEN THRONE!

F1ve5: Heard on the spacebattles my dude, get ready for one. Glad you enjoyed the chapter and the story.

Opaque-Cavalier: This is high praise. thank you.

Fanforger: VULCAN LIVES! *STOMP* *STOMP*

The Reaper of Valhalla: LOL! I hope its worth it tho hahhahahha. glad you've liked it all up until here. And also good questions, can't wait to show you what I've got planned with Fulgrim.

Guest: The muse continues. thank you for your words of support.

Guest 2: I'm glad your actually going back to look for all the little pieces I've set up. I'm glad my story has entertained you so much and the words have not been wasted. I hope this chapter feels just as good.

Guest 3: Dorn is a good choice. But not yet. Unfortunately if he is to be included in the story, I need him later... I also have to decided as to the official cannon on what exactly happened to rogal. He's not on the board yet, but he's certainly a piece I could use.

Monarchy11: I hope this ties a few things up for you. I'm still not really finished with Balor yet, but we will be on the way off planet likely by next chapter. And THUS! the begining of act 4!

DeluxeHispter1945: Glad to hear. I hope I can continue to entertain you with the coming chapters and story.

DedicatedReader2020: I hope I've answered a few of your curiousities with this chapter. Praise the Emperor.

Guest 4: Imperial Fanatiscism is something I have certainly been sorely lacking. Perhaps for a lack of being able to properly deal with the situation regarding Lucian... it's simple to see how many would treat a Primarch and apply it to the youth, but he's a new entity, a new force inside the relgiious inner workings of the Imperium. I hope to now start addressing such interactions with clarity. The power of the Ecclesiarchy is heavily prevalent throughout the Imperium, and thus if my story is to seem authentic to its environment, the Imperial Cult must appear accurately.

But I think I'll ease into this. I've had to do a lot of reading on how the Imperial Church exactly works, as well as the varying tales of how its many individuals may act and conduct themselves. Finding a believable yet workable middle ground has been difficult, but I'll take care to explain how faith now works itself into the story.

Thank you for your review.

Jakob1234j: the reactions of the universe will start tumbling into Lucian's path one by one. As Magnus said this chapter, the consequences of Lucian's actions are fay beyond what he can imagine. I hope to show this as soon as possible.

Guest 5: guiliman's a tough question to approach. He will make an appearance in this story, but for now I am still uncertain as to the when, where and why... hopefully we can answer this question soon enough, but rest assured I am making plans for this meeting to occur. Magnus is the first brother to make an appearance, and as you have seen by the latest chapters, he will not be the last.

DGrayman97: The story is set prior to the fall of Cadia. Oddly enough, I can't actually tell you WHEN it does take place.

ReddTheRaven: Thank you. Your praise is humbling. I'm glad you've enjoyed my work, and I'm glad you appreciate how difficult it's been to create this story. Thank you for your time, your attention and your words, they mean a lot.

Ironclad Dreadmaster: Thank you. This story may be dry, but as long as it entertains I'll count that as a win. Also FALSE! I AM ALPHARIUS!

Shardheart: Vulkan would be a fun character to write. However I'm not as prepared to introduce him quite yet without doing some extensive thinking first.

Jakob1234j 2: Two reviews, thank you. The Custodes will make their first appearance in the next arc.

SheSaidSheWas18: Vulkan seems to be popular, lol. Thank you for your words.

Guest 5: It's time for Lucian to step up. The cards are down, bets have been made, and its time to just do his best. Everyones reactions to him will come in time, but they're coming. All of them.

Titos is with Ahmazzi.

Vanella has been taken by Rkyehuss, Vownus's rival / nemesis. during the ritual on Balor that Lynwood and Caius interrupted, Vanella was one of the intended sacrifices. A caught Cultist confessed this information during one of Rkyehuss's pogroms and thus he caught Vanella. He was also made aware of Vanella's connection to Lucian.

Maitre Inquisiteur: Good. I had hoped it would be. Thanks for the review.

Grinmy: My pleasure. Hope you enjoy this one.

---

Well that's that. Wrapping up Balor in one or two more Chapters... sorry my predictions are usually a bit off, but I start writing a scene and its hard not to expand on it more and more. I'm keeping myself undercontrol just so I can finish this story in my lifetime, but I'm still trying to give y'all the most possible.

Thanks y'all.

Your reviews and support make all this shit possible. It means a lot.

The Emperor Protects,

Freedom.