Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"What's past is prologue" - The Tempest

Chapter 1

Lion sat upon his throne, in a pose that would have had the artificial lights glinting off his glasses if he wore glasses. Not that he would ever need glasses, the idea of primarchs getting old and their eyesight failing was a ridiculous one. Hmph. It would never happen to him.

But enough about that. Lion was not pondering primarch biology, no. He was pondering the metaphorical orb that was Imperium Secundus.

It really was convenient that Sanguinius had been there to become their new Emperor. The Lion shuddered at some of the potential Emperor nightmares he might have had to deal with. Emperor Russ. Emperor Fulgrim. Emperor Russ. Emperor Guilliman, bleh. Emperor Russ. Quickly, to avoid dwelling on the horror of that thought, he mentally groped around for something else to think about.

If it hadn't been for Sanguinius, Imperium Secundus would have been that most horrifying thing for an aggressively atheist state…heresy.

And Guilliman ruling it…eurgh. It's true he was good at a lot of things Lion didn't really care about, but he lacked it where it counted - the ability to make hard decisions. He was too pragmatic for hard decisions, Lion thought to himself. Instead, he actually made decisions that had long term benefits. But they lacked moral clarity! Doing things like negotiating with people instead of carpet bombing them from orbit was slave morality.

Moving along from Guilliman, Lion decided to ponder a completely different metaphorical orb. Curze. His nemesis. At first he had been happy to hunt down Curze because he was the enemy of the Imperium, but then Curze had made it personal…by trying to kill Lion in a fair fight. Soon, there would be a reckoning with Curze, yes.

But now, he had a meeting. Meetings truly were a constant beyond death and taxes for humanity. Humanity has had meetings since the first man gave birth to Drach'nyen. Metaphorically. Metaphorically gave birth. Drach'nyen was not the result of mpreg. Do not misrepresent what I said. Even death could die, (thanks Perpetuals and also Chaos), and there were tax-free zones…but even the Dark Apostles had meetings to discuss the correct shade of red for their armour. That was far into the future, though. For now, he had to deal with this specific meeting.

"Let's hear the prophecy from the Librarians," said Lion. "About this one planet with a name I don't care to pronounce."

"A great darkness falling upon a world of grey and blue. Flames unending, a cacophony poured into the skies. Murder walking abroad, borne swiftly on midnight wings," spake the Dark Angel reporting to Lion.

"It's Konrad," said the Lion decisively.

After all, it was Konrad that the meeting was about. As per usual, only his inner circle knew what the Lion really was doing - hunting Konrad. Everyone else thought he was being responsible and securing the borders of Imperium Secundus. Even the other Dark Angels. Trust no one, not even yourself, because if he got found out, Guilliman would yell at him. And Lion didn't want to get yelled at.

"It might not be Konrad," spake Redloss, a different Dark Angel. "There are remnants of the Shadow Crusade hanging around. The people we are supposedly out here to stop, you know, those guys?"

"'Midnight' is a Night Lord thing. They wear midnight-coloured armour," said Lion. "It's Konrad."

He paused.

"Holguin, you haven't said anything."

"Well," said Holguin, "you keep ignoring me, so I got tired of banging my head into a stone wall."

"Right," said Lion. "I forgot, you want us to abandon our honour, cease the pursuit of justice, and stop chasing after Curze."

"Hey, that's not what I said!" protested Holguin. "I just think we have higher priorities than running through every single one of the 500 worlds with a fine toothed comb trying to figure out where Curze is! I just think maybe we should actually do our jobs and ensure the security of Imperium Secundus!"

"Curze IS a threat to that security," said Redloss. "The greatest threat. Yes, one primarch, alone. The greatest threat. Are YOU a threat Holguin? Haah?"

"What? No!! I'm loyal! I'll do whatever you say, my liege!" said Holguin, to Lion.

"Don't worry about it," said Lion. "I know disagreeing with me doesn't mean you're actually disloyal. I'm not stupid. It's the people who agree with you to your face, but inside they disagree with you, those guys are the ones you have to watch out for. But we definitely aren't doing that with Imperium Secundus. We definitely aren't agreeing to Guilliman and Sanguinius' faces and then going behind their backs to do something completely different. Nope."

'What's this 'we'?' thought Holguin.

"Anyways," said Lion, "your mistake is thinking that Curze thinks like a rational person. He doesn't. He's basically like the Joker, he does whatever the writer thinks an insane person would do. He is compelled to cause problems on purpose. But randomly. Which is why we need to rely on psyker visions to find him. Yes, us, the most loyal legion. I see no contradictions with relying on psychic powers."

Redloss coughed.

"We're heading out to that planet!" said Lion. "Curze, you're not getting away this time!"

Chapter Text

What see'st thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time? - The Tempest

Zahariel ran through the tunnel. The zombies were gaining on him. What? Thought the reader. What is this sudden genre shift? Why are we in zombie apocalypse mode? What happened to Caliban??

There were dark powers in the dark places of this world, and they had not left with the coming of the Imperium. And Zahariel was trapped down here with them and their puppets.

Zahariel prepared to call upon his psychic powers to blast the zombies, but unfortunately, one of the dark powers was here, cutting off his connection to the Warp. He had the impression of a great serpent…

CHOMP

~~~~

"Well, we're here," said Redloss, "and we're getting a message that…the traitors are already gone?"

"So, no Curze," said Lion. An aura of melancholy emanated from him.

Holguin desperately attempted to avoid saying 'I told you so'. It would not go well. Unfortunately, the only other things he could think of saying were platitudes. He had a feeling that patting the Lion on the head and going 'there there' would not go over any better.

So he just stood there, awkwardly, in silence, as the Lion sulked.

Fortunately this only lasted a few minutes as Redloss fiddled around with things.

"Ah." said Redloss.

"What does that mean?" asked Lion.

"You should…probably look and see this for yourself," said Redloss, magnifying a live feed.

The feed showed the aftermath of a battle in a war-torn city. It was nothing new to any of the audience here, as they had been responsible for many such cases. The weird part was…

"Is that made out of bone?" asked Holguin, horrified.

"It must be half a kilometre high," said Redloss. "Kind of impressive."

Holguin and the Lion turned to look at him.

"What?"

Lion grunted. "It's Curze. This is his style. All five million people in that city are dead and now…"art"."

Holguin was still staring at the scene in horror.

"Oh look at that," said Redloss, looking at a screen, "urgent message. They found about a dozen or so holdouts in a fortress nearby."

He paused.

"They appear to be holding off the force of ten thousand Dark Angels."

"It's clear we need to take more drastic measures," said Lion. "Redloss? I'm sending in the Dreadwing."

Redloss cackled. "Yesssss…." He sobered up quickly when he realized the traitor forces had already killed most of the civilians on the planet, and he wouldn't be able to firebomb them.

Holguin, meanwhile, was still staring horrified at the bone tower, chanting under his breath.

"Holguin!" said Lion sharply.

Holguin snapped to attention.

"No more screen time," said Lion.

~~~~

"Hail the Dreadbringer," said Lieutenant Danaes.

"Let the lesson continue," said Redloss. He rubbed his hands together. "It's good to be back."

"While you're here, I wanted to ask you some convenient exposition questions about the Dreadwing organization," said Danaes.

"Go ahead," said Redloss generously. "I never pass up an opportunity to as-you-know-Bob."

The two of them engaged in a long conversation about the organizational history of the Dreadwing and the evolution its relationship within the general structure of the Dark Angels.

"Well, that was fun," said Redloss. "But I need to give a speech now." He put his hands around his mouth.

"Hey team!" He yelled. "Are you all ready to kill some heretics?"

The Dreadwing roared.

"I can't hear you!"

They roared louder.

"All right now, one, two, three, four! We are here, we are death!"

"We are here, we are death," chanted the Dreadwing. "We are here, we are death."

Redloss turned on the broadcasting speakers.

Ahh, he thought. It's good to be a Dark Angel, and nothing like a Night Lord, he thought as he broadcasted "we are here (we are death)" at the enemy.

~~~~

Truly, thought Redloss, our primarch is superlative, he has such a keen sense of tactics that put him head and shoulders above most if not all of his brothers.

"Human wave tactics are bad," said the Lion. "Redloss, fire the special weapon."

The special weapon opened a rift into the Immaterium, wreaking great destruction upon anything in the area. To see it in action and all the slaughter that followed, was Redloss's delight.

When the warp rift had closed, Redloss voxed his men. "Gang, we're going in."

Chapter Text

It was time to share the plan. Redloss used the code that was definitely not devised by three 12-year-olds in a treehouse.

"Griffon rampant," he voxed. "The drake's breath by twilight. Blood-ridden on the sinister veil. Inverse chimera."

As it turns out, a dozen traitor space marines had not managed to hold off ten thousand Dark Angels, there were in fact more of them.

There were twenty World Eaters and two of the World Eaters' three remaining dreadnoughts. Redloss didn't wonder about the dreadnoughts, who had never been Nailed, and what they thought of the bone tower. He was just worried about keeping his Dreadwing brothers alive against the terrible forces of twenty World Eaters and two dreadnoughts.

But it was more than that. The stench of the bone towers drove on Redloss. They were horrifying.

It wasn't the senseless slaughter of civilians that bothered him. Redloss, personally, took it as a point of pride that he had killed tens of thousands of people. It was the fact that they boasted of it. Enjoying killing people was fine. Telling the whole galaxy about it was something else.

Well, now he was going to kill them all for it. Heh. Perhaps…a quiet chuckle.

~~~~

The Dreadwing, after a tough battle, was victorious against the twenty World Eaters and two dreadnoughts. At that point, the civilians who had survived the indiscriminate slaughter of the World Eaters, and the indiscriminate bombs of the Dark Angels, began to show up.

Holguin felt a stab of some negative emotion as they cheered the Dark Angels. He felt the accusation behind their cheers. Their world had been turned into a battleground by powers that had little to do with them, and existed far beyond their ken. And Holguin once again felt like Imperium Secundus was a horrible, horrible mistake that far too many people were going to die for.

He could never say any of this out loud.

The remaining civilians had quickly elected leaders among themselves, and Holguin was leading them through the camp that the Dark Angels had set up, to bring them to the Lion. The Dark Angels had already established various buildings, storehouses, etc. so it was less of a tent city than many people would assume.

When they reached the Lion, he was, as expected, busy looking at too many screens at the same time.

Holguin coughed. "My lord, here are the civilian leaders."

Lion looked up from his screens, disinterested.

One of them, a steely old lady, stepped forwards. "We would like to thank you for saving us and helping us rebuild."

Behind her, Holguin winced.

"We're not helping you rebuild," said Lion. "That's not my problem. Go bug Guilliman about it."

The civilians shared at him in shock.

"You can use the buildings we made," he said, as if it was a great concession. "We don't really need them, we just sort of built them out of habit."

"Are you going to leave us any supplies?"

"I need all that food and water for my Legion," said the Lion without a hint of apology. "I'm sure Guilliman will send someone in 4 to 6 business years. If I remember to tell him."

"We have no water, no medical supplies, nothing," said the steely old lady. "All of our cities have been reduced to rubble!"

"Sucks to be you, I guess," said the Lion. "But it's not my problem."

He spoke again. "Holguin, take them out, and pack up, we're leaving."

Holguin ushered out the shocked leaders. He looked at them awkwardly.

"I can give you a few guns at least," he said.

One of the other leaders, an old man (well, they were all old, Holguin thought to himself), spoke up. "What are we supposed to do with those?"

"You're going to need to protect the supplies you have from looters," said Holguin. "And be able to stay in charge until Guilliman gets here."

"You're talking about us becoming warlords," said the old man.

"Just…do the best until help gets here," said Holguin. He wilted slightly under their accusing glares. "It's not our fault! Blame the World Eaters! Blame Horus!"

The disdain and despair in the old woman's eyes could have burned metal. Holguin looked away.

"A-anyways I have to go now or they'll leave me behind! Good look!" He yelled over his shoulder as he power walked away.

"It's definitely all Horus' fault!" He yelled, turning back again. "Not Guilliman's! And definitely not Lion's!"

Chapter Text

The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies.

"Hmm," said Lion as he pulled out a sheet of paper. "What's next on the list?"

The piece of paper was titled "List of Things Forbidden By Dad". There were checkmarks next to "defy the Edict of Nikea", "make pacts with mysterious warp beings", "make alliances with aliens"…

"Right!" said Lion, slamming his fist into his palm and crushing the paper in the process, "let's go see the child servitor! We must consult…THE DEVICE!"

"Do we have to?" asked Holguin.

"Holguin, I understand that this is not a pleasant sight. However it is a necessary sacrifice that we have to make for the Imperium. Because we are the hard men who do hard things that other people can't." Lion took a deep breath. "Dealing with the xenos warp being we need the child servitor for is icky, because it's a xenos, but you have to be strong, Holguin."

That's not the main issue here...Holguin thought. Nevertheless, he sighed internally and followed Redloss and the Lion down the corridor.

~~~~

"Hello, Lion," whispered the device through the child servitor's throat.

"Hello, Tuchulcha," said Lion in the kind of voice you'd use to talk to a child. Which would be normal for most people but coming from Lion it felt very unsettling.

But then Lion was good at that, thought Redloss. Lion was capable of using his monumental willpower in moments of great need to do such horribly difficult things as say please, be polite, and talk nicely to a child. Redloss was in awe as there was no way he could manage such things. Truly the primarchs were so far beyond Astartes.

"I need you to help me find someone," said Lion, still in the same gentle tone. "I need you to find the people that left this star system."

"I could…" said Tuchulcha. "But I don't think I will."

Lion took a deep breath. Redloss admired his restraint.

"Why not?" He asked.

"You'll find out in five…four…three…two…one…"

A serf burst through the doors into the room. "Urgent message from the Navigators!" He gasped out. "The Sotha beacon is gone!"

~~~~

"How?!" bellowed Lion at the Chief Navigator, who had followed the serf to the room at a more sedate pace. "How do you LOSE a giant beacon?"

"You forget to cherish it," Tuchulcha piped up cheerfully. Chief Navigator Fiana looked nervously at the child servitor, then quickly looked away.

"It must have gone out at the source," Fiana said quickly. "I can't find our way back."

The Lion curled his hands into fists, and growled, a feral noise that startled Redloss.

"Ohhhh that dastardly Curze! He planned the whole thing!" Lion raged. Fiana took a few steps backwards.

"I've been blind and a fool!" continued Lion. "He's gone back to Maccrage! We must go back!"

Fiana looked as if she wanted to repeat her words about being unable to find their way back, but she didn't dare.

"Tuchulcha!" Said Lion, pointing one claw at the child servitor. "Can you guide us back? Please," he added through gritted teeth.

"Well…I suppose, since you asked so nicely," said Tuchulcha, still in the same cheerful tone. "Don't worry Lady Navigator! I'll shine a spotlight at Maccrage for you!"

"Er…thank you," said the very creeped out looking Navigator.

Finally giving vent to his pent-up frustration, Lion slammed a fist into the wall. He withdrew his hand, a deep dent left in the bulkhead.

"Not this time, Konrad. This time I will catch you."

Chapter Text

Caliban. The forest planet.

Once Aldurukh had just been a bunch of secret tunnels under the forest but now thanks to the might and industry of the Imperium, it was a city. An ugly, ugly city.

"What a dismal hole," said Chapter Master Astelan to himself, looking down at the city from his tower.

"Master Astelan?" Lady Tylain asked quizzically.

"You know the Calibanites say it used to be beautiful here," continued Astelan, ignoring her. "But by the time I got here they'd chopped down most of the forests and dammed the sparkling rivers. So," he shrugged eloquently. "Here we are."

"And on the topic of the destruction of natural beauty," he said, turning to Lady Tylain, "how goes the construction of the cells?"

"They're all finished," said Lady Tylain cheerfully. "We've already begun moving the rebels against Sar Luther's benevolent guidance into them."

"Very good," said Astelan, absentmindedly, as he stared out the window at the scar in the earth caused by strip-mining. Yes, it was much better to keep them alive as backup against Luther rather than executing them out of hand.

There was a knock at the door, and Galedan poked his head in.

"Oh!" said Astelan, pleased. "Hi, Galedan!"

Galedan nodded at him. "Master Astelan."

Astelan looked as if he were about to say something, then he looked over at Lady Tylain. "Please excuse us, we need to talk about some private Legion business."

Galedan shot him an irritated look.

"Of course," said Lady Tylain, sweeping from the room with dignity.

When the door had closed behind her, Galedan spoke.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked.

"She's kind of annoying," said Astelan. "Also, as the Emperor said, no girls allowed. Even the ones that are."

Galedan rolled his eyes.

"So!" Astelan clapped his hands together. "What news do you have for me?"

"There's some ships coming in," said Galedan. "They'll be in orbit in a few days."

Astelan frowned. "Our timeline just got shorter. If it's Lion…" He paused.

"If it's Lion…" said Galedan, "…are you really going to…"

"I'll burn that bridge when I get to it," said Astelan. "But I'd be a fool not to prepare. C'mon, Galedan, we're going to talk to some prisoners."

~~~~

But now, let us turn to a dark underground chamber, surrounded by tunnels.

Within the tunnels, space marines flit from shadow to shadow, staying unseen, until they gather in…the secret room.

Deep beneath Aldurukh, separated from the mass of thoughts above them by layers of solid stone, the Librarians met.

And panicked.

+What do we dooo?+ asked Tanderion.

+There's nothing we can do while the warp is in turmoil!+ said Athadrael.

+How are we supposed to plan anything with Israfel dead?+ stressed a third Librarian who shall remain unnamed.

+And Zahariel is still missing!+ the three of them chorused.

+Will all of you calm down and shut up!+ shouted Vassago into their minds. +In the name of the Great Beasts, are you all children?+

The Librarians all took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

+There+ said Vassago. +Now, one thing at a time: first, we need to try and find Zahariel.+

+Um+ said Tanderion, raising a hand. +Why do we need to do this in secret? Since Sar Luther is supporting us…+

+Do you have no sense of aesthetic and drama?+ seethed the mystery third Librarian. +What kind of Dark Angel are you?+

+Ahem. Did all of you forget about the Edict of Nikea? Which we are currently violating?+ said Athadrael acidly. +Sar Luther letting us meet is an act of treason. Can you imagine what might happen if Lion found out we were violating the edict…+

Yes. The Lion, the most loyal (and errr single-minded) of all, would never allow something like that, and anyone who broke the rules would immediately get their head punched off.

+On that sobering note, can we please for once focus on the reason we're here+ said Vassago. +we are going to try and find Zahariel…or failing that, how he died.+

The Librarians began focusing their power on Vassago, who used it as a metaphorical scent amplifier to try and smell out Zahariel's trail. He managed to catch some faint traces, and started to follow them-

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

The psychic circle dissolved with a snap and Vassago was pulled entirely back to the physical realm.

"Lord Cypher!"

Lord Cypher, his face hidden under his hood, stood at the doorway to their room.

"I'm disappointed in all of you…hiding down here to do suspicious witchy stuff is…" he paused. The pause continued past the point where it was ominous and started to become awkward. "…suspicious." He finally said.

It was clear to Vassago that he had been trying to come up with a different word and failed miserably. Now was the time to attack while he was on the back foot.

"And how were you able to find us and disrupt our power? Could it be you should have been part of the Librarius all along?" said Vassago. "Lord Cypher, it is YOU who is the suspicious one!" He pointed dramatically at the robed man.

Lord Cypher laughed lightly. "Oh, no, I have no power of my own." He paused. "I was just borrowing it."

Before anyone could ask from whom Lord Cypher might borrow psychic power, the chamber underwent a subtle change. Vassago could not pinpoint exactly what had happened, or when, but it felt very much like a door being quietly closed, cutting off the sound from a neighbouring room.

Half a dozen figures had appeared in the shadows between the pools of candlelight. Each was no taller than waist-high to the Space Marines, clad in a deep robe that showed nothing of the face or hands. Six pairs of eyes glowed scarlet in the gloom.

Vassago quickly backtracked. "N-no offence was intended, Lord Cypher! I just- you interrupted us in the middle of a task and it made me snappy!"

"Oh, so it was just a misunderstanding," said Lord Cypher. Casually, he dismissed the Watchers. Vassago and the other Librarians breathed easier.

"Yes, we were just working on this task for Sar Luther! He wants us to track down Zahariel!" Vassago babbled.

"Oh, well, if Sar Luther wants you to do it…" Lord Cypher trailed off. "…I shall leave you to it."

The Librarians blinked in unison.

"I'll see you all…around." Lord Cypher turned on his heel, causing his cloak to billow dramatically around him, and stalked off.

There was a silence among the Librarians for a while.

+Group hug?+ asked Athadrael.

+Group hug+ said Vassago.

Chapter Text

As dungeons go, this was pretty nice, with the walls all whitewashed and many nods to traditional Calibanite architecture. The forcefield projectors and scanning arrays were all Terran-standard, though.

"You know," said Galedan, looking at one of the scanning arrays, "I guess I never really thought about it but it is kind of weird that our Legion doesn't use that many tech-priests."

"It's because we were the first Legion," said Astelan. "We were fighting battles way before the alliance with Mars, we had our own setup so, well," he shrugged, "it's not like we really needed the tech priests."

"Just imagine it, we were just…the Space Marines. Not even the First Legion yet."

"That just seems so weird to me," said Galedan.

"We were the ones fighting the Unification Wars," said Astelan. "We were the ones who first left Terra. You guys have no clue what that was like…" He paused dramatically.

"The stories I could tell you about what I got up to…after all, who do you think found Horus? That's right," said Astelan puffing his chest out.

"Wait. Wait wait wait wait," said Galedan. He turned to look at Astelan. "You? You found Horus?! You personally?! That's so-"

Astelan coughed awkward and rubbed his neck. "Well, okay not me…personally…I only ever fought on Terra."

"Still," said Galedan,"that's pretty cool. I can't believe I never thought to ask you about this all the years we've known each other."

Astelan smiled. "That's pretty cool" played on repeat in his head.

"Well, time to say hi to some prisoners," he said. "First up, Tukon. Heyyyy Tukon," he said as he opened the cell door.

Tukon glared at him.

"You remember Galedan, right, Tukon?" Galedan waved. Tukon continued to glare.

"Man I always thought you were sensible, Tukon," continued Astelan. "I can't believe you got wrapped up in this idiocy."

Tukon continued to glare.

"Look," said Astelan, lowering his voice. "Tukon. I just wanted you to know that I'm really on your side, and if Luther tries to use you as a hostage, I'll set you free."

Tukon's glare now contained an element of extreme skepticism.

"Don't believe me, fine, but I swear on the Emperor, I'll make sure you don't get used against our brothers."

Tukon's glare did not falter as Astelan closed the cell and left.

"Of course, I'd totally do it if I needed to," he said to Galedan. "But I need these guys onside."

Galedan said nothing very eloquently.

"Now, where is Captain Melian again, he should just be down here…ah!" Astelan headed over to another cell, but Galedan put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Why don't you leave him in peace?" Asked Galedan. "Do you enjoy making him suffer? Because every time we see him-"

"Of course not!" said Astelan indignantly, knocking Galedan's hand away. "Do I really give you the impression that I'm a cruel man? The kind of guy who would torture people?"

"I'm sorry," said Galedan. "I didn't mean it like that, it's just…I'm worried about his mind. I feel like every time we see him he gets a bit closer to breaking."

"Well, then, he has to break," said Astelan. "He's useless to our cause the way he is. Maybe if he breaks we can put him back together as something more functional."

Galedan said nothing, but looked doubtful.

~~~~

The instant Astelan opened the door, Captain Melian began yelling at him.

"Traitor! Underhanded, honourless betrayer!"

"Captain Melian…" Astelan began, but Melian rushed forwards, attempting to punch his way through the force field.

"The beetles of the forest mulch have more dignity and worth than you!" Melian yelled, acid spittle fizzling into nothing as it made contact with the force field.

He continued in this vein for several minutes, in which he thoroughly denounced Astelan's character, choices, parents, and looks.

Astelan stood there with his arms folded over his chest the full time.

"Are you finally done?" he asked when Melian finally took a breath. "Trick question, you're done. Shut up."

The years of psycho-conditionally kicked in at the sound of an order, thankfully, and Melian shut up.

"There are ships coming," said Astelan. "If the Lion has returned, I will send Galedan to free you and together the two of you will free the other prisoners and take Aldurukh back from Luther."

Melian looked at him. "The Lion is returning?"

"Mmmaybe," said Astelan. "We don't know yet."

Melian snorted. "Do you really expect me to believe the guy who locked us all up in here on Luther's orders?"

Astelan pointed at his forehead. "Think, Melian, think! Why do you think I put you all right underneath the tower? Why do you think I had this whole dungeon staffed only with baseline humans?" He took a deep breath. "Regardless of whether you believe me or not, I do need your help. I hope I will have it when the time comes."

Without waiting for a reply, he walked away from the cell, the door closing behind him.

He could feel Galedan's stare boring a hole in his back.

"Galedan, I know you think I just do this because I'm bored and it's funny, but really, I don't. This is all necessary."

"I don't…think you do it just because you're bored," protested Galedan, "but I don't see why you need to have so many convoluted plans. It's maybe becoming a bit of an obsession."

"It is an obsession," said Astelan. Galedan made a face. "Because loyalty and duty should always be an obsession."

"Who are we even loyal to? Sometimes I'm not sure why we're fighting, or who we're fighting for."

"The Emperor," said Astelan. "Always the Emperor."

Galedan changed the subject. "Do you really have a plan, Astelan?"
"What? No, that's boring. Plans change. We are just…staying flexible to seize any opportunities that come up. So whoever is on those ships, we can use to our advantage."

"That's reassuring," said Galedan in a tone that conveyed he was anything but reassured.

Chapter Text

The last time the Lion had shown up on Maccrage, there had been fanfares. A parade. The Dark Angels doing backflips.

This, time, the Lion showed up like a thief in the night. Literally, in the night.

Roboute Guilliman wasn't sure which one was worse.

Had Lion once again filled the skies with drop pods and gunships? This time in double secret?

Guilliman took a deep breath. No, Roboute, let it go, he told himself. At least this means he finally got my message.

For the past several days, Guilliman had been sending messages to the Dark Angels' flagship in every way he could think of. Vox. Text message. Voicemail. Email. Twitter. Astropath. Librarian. Astropath and Librarian. Astropath and Librarian on Twitter. Signal fires. Pigeons.

There had been no response at all. (Though he supposed, he hadn't really been expecting a response on Twitter).

And now, the Lion was here. Guilliman was both relieved and stressed.

Why stressed, you may ask?

Well, to put it simply: he was responsible for what we in the business call an "epic fail". And he had to hope that the Lion wouldn't take advantage of the situation.

Guilliman stood as stoically as he could as the Stormbird ramp came down and Lion angrily strode out. He brutally repressed the urge to confess everything and beg for forgiveness.

"Welcome back," he said.

"What happened on Sotha," said the Lion. It wasn't a question.

"Well," said Guilliman. "The err Night Lords attacked."

Lion frowned. "So Curze was at Sotha."

Guilliman coughed into his hand. "Actually he was…on Maccrage the entire time…he never…left…"

Lion's face twitched. "He…never left…Maccrage…"

He was frozen like a cogitator encountering a terrible paradox in its program code and showing a blue screen. Guilliman was unsure how to hard reboot a Lion, so he just stood there for a minute or so and waited for Lion.exe to finish crash recovery.

The two of them started walking away from the Stormbird.

"So," said Lion as they walked, "how's Sanguinius?"

"Well the good news is, he's alive and unharmed," said Guilliman.

"…what happened."

Guilliman winced. "It's easier to show you."

There was a pregnant silence as they walked along.

"So!" Said Guilliman. "How is the war with Angron and Lorgar's dregs going?"

"The true criminals have escaped retribution for the moment," said Lion, darkly. "The rest…no real threat to the Imperium, just enough of them around to kill millions of civilians."

The silence returned, even more pregnant than before. Guilliman had chosen to meet Lion by himself, in the hopes that Lion wouldn't feel cornered. He wasn't sure if that was a mistake or not, at this point.

"When are you going to take me to see the Emperor?" Lion asked. Of all the children the silence could have given birth to, this one at least Guilliman could handle.

"That's where we're going now," he said. "He's mostly been living in the library these days. The loss of Sotha has been…stressful. I was worried you didn't get any of my messages after it went down, but you must have, since you came back so quickly. Your Navigators must be the best in the Imperium."

The Lion shifted in discomfort. "Yes…we were very lucky…definitely our Navigators…"

"Well, said Guilliman, perhaps unnecessarily, but he felt the need to keep the conversation going, "we're here at the library. You can see Sanguinius shortly."

~~~~

In the middle of nowhere on Caliban, a tower was falling.

Climbing up the falling tower into the light of day (at least what could be seen of it through the dust) was Zahariel.

He looked around, enchanted by what he saw. Caliban was still there, beautiful and alive. Filled with life.

The Ouroboros hadn't eaten it after all.

He realized something.

The Ouroboros was Caliban. It was his mother. It was all their mothers.

He no longer wanted to kill it.

Estuans interius
Ira vehementi.
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi.

Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!

The Lion and the Imperium had oppressed Caliban and put it in chains, but he understood now.

Estuans interius
Ira vehementi.
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi.

Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!

He would set mother free. He would tell everyone about this. In order to free Caliban from its chains, the Order had to be destroyed. Humanity had to be fractured and in conflict, for Caliban's soil required blood.

Sors immanis-
Et inanis.
Sors immanis-
Et inanis.
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi.
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi.

Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!

"Mother?" asked Zahariel. "What is that ominous music? And why is it getting louder?"

"Don't worry about it," said the spirit of Caliban. Then it metaphorically kissed him on the forehead and gave him the power to fly back to Aldurukh.

And Lord Cypher, who had left him for dead.

Chapter Text

"Vassago, are you crying?"

"No," said Vassago, sniffling.

"Are all of you crying?" asked Zahariel incredulously.

"We're just really happy to have you back," Tanderion said, wiping his eyes on Zahariel's shoulder.

"You're the only one who has the passcodes for the anime flashdrive," said Athradrael.

"I get it, but can you please remember that personal space exists," said Zahariel. The Librarian group hug sulkily withdrew from around him.

"And which one of you put your sticky hands on my beard!"

Vassago cleared his throat. "What happened to you, Zahariel? Lord Cypher didn't say much. Not that he ever does," he muttered in an undertone.

"Oh," said Zahariel flatly. "Lord Cypher. I'm guessing that he didn't tell you about how he left me to die? In a hole in the ground?"

"No," said Vassago. "He very much did not mention that."

"Well, I suppose in the end it was for the best," said Zahariel. "Otherwise I wouldn't have discovered Mother."

Vassago and Tanderion exchanged nervous glances.

"Er, Zahariel?"

"I have so much to show you," said Zahariel.

"Zahariel why are you glowing green?"

"I am going to free you from your bonds."

"Zahariel, you're freaking me out-"

~~~~

"I understand now," said Vassago dreamily.

"Yes," the other Librarians chorused. "All hail the Ouroboros!"

Somewhere else in the castle, Luther felt a hint of foreboding. But then he always felt like that these days. Darn Dark Angels. They were like cats, always getting into something they shouldn't and didn't intend and then pretending they meant to do it the whole time.

~~~~

Several days later, Luther sat in his office, looking at the three clowns in front of him. He steepled his fingers together and looked at them over the tips, wishing he wore glasses so the light could glint ominously off of them.

Zahariel, the prodigal Librarian. Astelan, who ran schemes within schemes. And Cypher…was Cypher.

Bunch of overgrown children.

"Lord Cypher," he said. "Zahariel has been telling me some interesting things. Why did you not tell me that he told you to leave and save yourself, but that you stayed to try and help him as long as possible?"

Cypher paused before speaking. "It didn't seem relevant."

Of course it didn't.

"I owe Lord Cypher a great debt," said Zahariel innocently.

"Is this what you called us here to speak about?" asked Astelan boredly.

"Actually, now that Zahariel is back, I would like to bestow on him a new title. He is the Master of the Mystic Arts - er," Luther stumbled. His mind went to where his comic books were hidden underneath the important looking papers. Why had he chosen to read those Dr. Strange comics right before the meeting? "I mean, Master of the Mystrai. He is now responsible for the former Librarians as they take their place in our new and better Order."

"I will do my best to live up to this responsibility," Zahariel bowed his head.

"That being said, Zahariel, Astelan, I need the both of you to work together to handle our visitors." He just knew he was going to regret saying this but he was really too busy to micromanage them. "Use your own discretion in how to deal with any…dubious matters that come up."

The two of them nodded.

"That's really it. Good to have you back, Zahariel. You're all dismissed."

Zahariel and Astelan got up and left.

But Cypher stayed in place.

Luther felt a great sense of foreboding. But then again, he always felt like that when Cypher wanted to talk to him.

"Did you have something you wanted to say in private?" Luther asked.

"Sar Luther," said Cypher.

"Yes, Lord Cypher?"

"Is it true that you are the only Dark Angel who has known the touch of a woman?"

"What," said Luther flatly.

"You were married, correct?"

"Ah," said Luther. Why did you phrase it like that? "Yes, that's true, I was married…"

"So then you know how babies are made."

"Lord Cypher, where exactly is this going?"

"I think Zahariel is pregnant with a daemon-"

"Get out of my office."

Luther's headache had returned. What had he done to deserve this? No, it was, as usual, Lion's fault.

Was it supposed to be a metaphor? Zahariel was consorting with dark powers? Was it literal? Was it a different metaphor?

This was why he hated dealing with Cypher.

As the door closed behind Cypher, Luther pulled out his emotional support Marvel comics. They would never betray him. Unlike everyone else in his life. Fyona, why did you have to die? Maybe if Lion had had mother or sister figures, he wouldn't have ended up quite like this.

Chapter Text

Back on Maccrage, Lion and Guilliman entered the library. It was eerily silent and dark, as all the lights were off.

“Is this a metaphor for something?” Lion asked Guilliman as they approached Sanguinius.

“I just recently had to deal with a very loud and very close explosion,” said Sanguinius irritatedly. “I’m still having a bit of trouble with bright lights.”

“You’re fine other than that though, right?”

“Curze didn’t want to hurt me on the outside,” Sanguinius replied.

“Not on the outside?” Guilliman came up beside Lion. “What do you mean, brother? What did he do?”

Sanguinius sighed. “As I told you before, we spoke. I didn’t want to go into detail until both of you were here.”

“We’re both here now,” said Lion. “What did Curze say?”

“Do not interrogate our brother!” Snapped Guilliman, interposing himself between the two other primarchs. “Remember your place.”

The Lion was shocked by Guilliman’s sudden out of character moment, but figured if he didn’t acknowledge it, maybe it would go away.

“So,” he continued. “The two of you talked. Did he give any hints about where he was hiding?”

“I’ll get to that later,” said Sanguinius. Lion suppressed his frustration.

“What he wanted to talk about…was fate,” Sanguinius said, in a portentous tone.

“Why would he want to go through all the effort to sneak in, cause chaos…and then talk about fate?” Guilliman asked.

“Did you forget that he’s crazy,” said Lion.

“Actually, he was pretty lucid for our conversation,” Sanguinius said. “Which I will tell you two about if you stop interrupting me.”

Guilliman and Lion muttered apologies and Sanguinius continued. “What he was trying to do was put his guilt on the Emperor.”

Guilliman and Lion exchanged glances, extremely confused.

Sanguinius sighed deeply. “He blames the Emperor for making him the way he is.”

Guilliman scoffed. “It’s not the Emperor’s fault he’s a genocidal nihilistic monster.”

The Lion stayed silent. As much as he hated to admit it, it wasn’t as simple as it seemed. How much of them was nature, and how much was nurture. Was he the way he was because it was who he was meant to be, or because of the forests of Caliban?

That was too much introspection for Lion’s solitary braincell and it collapsed into a tired heap in the ham stuffing inside his skull.

Anyways, it wasn’t like it made a difference. Curze and his ilk had chosen to oppose the Emperor and so had forfeited all rights to be considered as humans.

“What he wanted from me,” said Sanguinius, giving Guilliman another look for interrupting (again), “was forgiveness.”

Guilliman began spluttering. “Are you- are you serious?”

“Well,” said Sanguinius, “maybe more like absolution? He thinks he’s still doing what the Emperor wants.”

Guilliman mouthed ‘what’.

Sanguinius continued. “Absolution. Vindication. Those are what Curze is after.”

“And he thought you would…agree with him?” The Lion asked.

Sanguinius winced. “More like…kill him.”

“Well, you tried,” said Guilliman, patting him on the shoulder.

Sanguinius winced again and coughed delicately. “Are you two familiar with The Lord of the Rings?”

They both nodded slowly and uneasily.

“Well, you remember Gollum, and how Frodo doesn’t-“

“Are you joking?” asked Lion incredulously. “You spared him because you felt sorry for him?”

“The most surprising thing I’ve learned tonight is that Lion can actually read,” muttered Guilliman.

“Wait,” said Lion. “It’s Curze. It was obviously a trap. So good thinking on not falling for it.”

“No,” said Sanguinius, “he was sincere, I could tell. But also, killing him would have given him absolution and vindication, so I couldn’t do that.”

“But he would have been dead,” said Guilliman.

“If I killed him, it would have been murder! I would have been the one in the wrong,” Sanguinius defended himself.

Lion rolled his eyes. “It would have been an execution.”

“You can’t have an execution without a trial, Lion,” said Sanguinius. “Otherwise it’s murder.”

“What about all the people he’s already murdered,” said Guilliman, who was ignored.

“All right,” said Lion. “Fine. Whatever. He came, he cut off your guard’s hand, he psychologically traumatized you or something. He’s here on Maccrage. Before we go anything further,” he pointed a finger at Guilliman. “I got a bone to pick with you. How did you manage to fail so badly at protecting Sanguinius?”

“Me? You were the one responsible for-“

The two of them descended into petty bickering. Sanguinius pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he took a deep breath and karate-chopped the two of them on their heads.

“Knock it off!” He said. The two of them quailed before him. Sanguinius smiled in a way that was somehow both cheerful and menacing at the same time. “First off, I’m standing right in front of you.”

They muttered apologies.

“Second off, I’m not a glass ornament, and I could beat the two of you with one hand tied behind my back.”

The Lion tched. Sanguinius shot him a quelling look.

“Nevertheless,” said Guilliman, “Sanguinius. You are precious to us. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

The Lion nodded emphatically next to him.

“You are our emperor,” continued Guilliman. “You are the one Imperium Secundus rests on.”

“Guess we’re doomed then,” said Sanguinius, unable to resist. “You see, I’m going to die at Horus’ hand.”

Guilliman and Lion exchanged an extremely confused look.

“Did he hit his head?” Guilliman asked.

“No, I bet it was Curze getting to him,” said Lion. “He does that.”

“Again, I’m right here standing in front of you,” said Sanguinius.

Guilliman and the Lion gulped as one.

“I can see the future,” said Sanguinius, in a less ominous tone, “that’s how I know.”

There was an awkward silence.

“So,” continued Sanguinius, shrugging. “I’ve got two hopes. The first is, I’m wrong. The second is, I die but it’s for a greater purpose.”

Lion felt a rare moment of love for his brother. That really was like Sanguinius.

“It’s not happening,” said Lion. “Nope.”

“Lion, you can’t fight fate,” said Sanguinius.

“Weren’t you saying earlier you weren’t a fatalist?” asked Lion.

“That’s different,” said Sanguinius. “I’m not like Curze, who’s a bad fatalist. I’m going to face my death with dignity.”

“Shut up, you’re not going to die,” said Lion. “Get protected, idiot.” He took a deep breath. “Okay. Curze. We know where he was, we can start from there.”

“There’s no way he’s still on Maccrage,” said Guilliman. “I’ve got the place locked down.”

“No offence, but trusting you is like trusting the stableman who already left the door open.”

“Why did you even bother saying ‘no offence’?” asked Guilliman, incensed. He took a deep breath. “You weren’t here! I had to protect Sotha! I-“

“Okay let’s not get into it again,” said Sanguinius. “Lion is right.”

Guilliman made a sad noise at this unexpected betrayal.

“We’re going to put Maccrage under martial law,” said Lion. “Just give me a free hand so I do haven’t to worry about niceties like human rights.”

Sanguinius nodded. “Fine by me.”

Guilliman sighed deeply. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

Chapter Text

Guilliman and the Lion left Sanguinius to his dark library and went out to the balcony.

"Have you considered maybe this is exactly what Curze wants us to do?" Guilliman asked his brother.

The Lion did not respond.

"It's also…the kind of measures you want to put in place here are going to be very unpopular," Guilliman continued. "Many of my Ultramarines were born here, and they've all spent time here. There'll be a conflict of interest."

"Don't worry about that," said Lion. "There won't be any kind of conflict of interest." He paused for emphasis. "My Dark Angels, of course, are free of any bias."

"Lion," said Guilliman. "You are not bringing your clowns to my beautiful planet."

"Too late," said Lion.

"You brought your legion to my world already?!" Guilliman shouted.

"Our world now," said Lion. This had to be done. "Guilliman, do you trust me?"

~~~~

"Of course I don't trust him," said Guilliman to his mother. "He's trying to take over this whole thing and acting like he's the one who's really in charge, not Sanguinius! That's my job," he muttered.

Euten adjusted the shawl over her shoulders and said nothing to this.

"What do I do, though? His strength is having no thoughts in his brain, just ham and action, but I need everything planned out first before I can counter him. So how am I supposed to stop him when even he doesn't know what he's going to do?"

Euten spoke at last. "Well, you know what they say about planting trees. The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The next best time…is today." She paused. "So, you'd better do what you do best, and start planting some trees."

Later on that night, Guilliman sat bolt upright in bed. "Wait," he muttered, "that doesn't make any sense at all."

Chapter Text

Back on Caliban

"I remember when all this was forest," said Zahariel, looking around the construction that was taking place in the back near the landing pad.

"Joyous," said Astelan. "I love the reminisces of old Caliban."

"I was there when the first Stormbird came down, you know," Zahariel continued. "Right there along with Nemiel, the Lion, and Luther."

"Truly, your life has been noteworthy, Sar Zahariel," said Astelan without conviction. When would this overgrown child shut up?

"I wonder who they sent," said Zahariel, bouncing on his toes. "Maybe it's Nemi-"

Astelan saw the figure stepping towards them away from the Stormbird and held up a hand to Zahariel. He'd recognize that scarred face and deep blue eyes anywhere. "Chapter Master Belath," said Astelan tonelessly.

"Astelan," said Belath, a hint of a sneer in his tone. The two of them locked eyes and metaphorical lightning danced between them.

"Hi!" said Zahariel cheerfully, unable to read the room. "Welcome back! Did the Lion summon us to fight with him?"

"My message is for Luther's ears only," said Belath.

"Of course it is," Astelan said in an undertone.

The three of them went back to their vehicle and soon they were underway.

As Belath was distracted sniping back and forth with Astelan about…trees? Zahariel decided he'd do a bit of lock picking.

Metaphorical lock picking - he was going to investigate Belath's mind and find out what was really going on.

Zahariel focused and sent a metaphorical lock pick tentacle from his mind to Belath's. Look, that was just how being a psyker worked, okay? Don't judge.

He only managed to see a little before Belath's mental defences vaporized his tentacle but there was a memory…of blood.

Zahariel met Belath's eyes in that moment, and saw guilt in them.

Guilt related to Zahariel.

But why?

Zahariel had a dark thought, and decided to test if he was right. He smiled sunnily. "So you were on the ship with my cousin Nemiel, right? How's he?"

Belath coughed and looked downcast. "I'm sorry to tell you, but he's dead."

As Astartes, they lived dangerous lives. But it was precisely because of this that it was suspicious that Belath felt guilty.

"I see," said Zahariel, "how did my cousin fall?"

There was a pause before Belath spoke again, which added to Zahariel's suspicion. "Well, on the flagship, a bunch of warp creatures manages to get in and started attacking us."

"That's not an answer," said Zahariel. "How did he die, really?"

"I can't-"

Belath's reply was cut off when Zahariel jumped out of his seat towards Belath and grabbed his head. Electronics around them crackled as Zahariel pulled on the power of Mother Caliban.

The whole vehicle shuddered to a halt due to the interference from the psychic energy.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO NEMIEL?!" Zahariel roared in Belath's face. And then he was able to see the memory.

Asmodeus, his fellow Librarian, kneeling on the floor, his long hair covering his face.

Lion standing over him.

Nemiel screaming about the Edict of Nikaea, his hands shaking.

Lion moving and-

Blood

Nemiel's skull-faced helmet flying-

Nemiel's headless body hitting the floor.

The vision cut out.

Not because it was over, but because Astelan had knocked him to the floor, away from Belath, and was holding a gun to his head.

"What was so important about the Edict of Nikaea that my cousin died for it?" Zahariel snarled.

"It was a command of the Emperor Himself!" Belath gasped. "I don't really get it, but the Emperor said your existence was against the Imperial Truth! That's all I know!"

For a heartbeat, Zahariel expected Astelan to pull the trigger upon hearing this. But nothing happened. Astelan lowered his weapon.

"The Lion killed Nemiel," Zahariel said. He brought his gauntleted hand to his forehead and rubbed it.

"The Lion is not here," said Astelan, holstering his weapon. He got off of the undignified heap the three of them had fallen into, and offered his hand to Zahariel. "Belath is just the messenger."

"We wouldn't have survived if we'd followed Nemiel," Belath growled. "And he defied the primarch."

"And for that he deserved to die out of hand like that?" Zahariel replied. He got back up and went back to his seat.

He couldn't stop seeing the image of Nemiel's death, the helmet falling to the floor, the Lion's gore-spattered gauntlet-

He managed to wrench himself out of it when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over and saw it was Astelan.

He turned back to Belath. "Why did you come here?" he asked.

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself," Belath replied.

Chapter Text

In a tower in Illyria:

“It’s Curze,” said the Lion.

“It’s not Curze,” said Guilliman.

“They were all killed via a large stick through the chest and had their eyes cut out!” said the Lion.

“Exactly,” said Guilliman. “It’s way too obvious to be Curze. The people who live up here have feuds where this stuff can happen, you know, smugglers and that type. Stop seeing Curze everywhere.”

“Smugglers?” asked the Lion incredulously.

“Well…” said Guilliman. “There may be some…anti-Imperium dissidents…”

“Forget Curze, we have to deal with that immediately,” said Lion.

“This is my problem, I’m handling it my way,” said Guilliman, insistently.

Lion sighed. “Let me guess. You’re trying things like “diplomacy”” (and here he used air quotes), “and “not committing large scale slaughter of civilians” and other wimpy things like that. Well, on Caliban, we know how to deal with monsters. You don’t try and talk to them and make peace, you just go out and kill them.”

“Lion, please tell me you know the difference between a human person and a giant monster,” said Guilliman.

Lion crossed his arms.

“Lion,” said Guilliman desperately, “It is important that you tell me you know the difference between a human person and a giant monster.”

“Well,” harrumphed Lion, “at least one of them is a monster. And I will find him!”

Guilliman sighed. “I literally have no way to physically stop you without causing another mini civil war (and thanks for that, by the way), but, please please please bear in mind that human rights exist.”

“Human rights? In this Imperium? Well I guess if anyone had to say something like that, it would be you. You always were the reasonable one, Roboute,” said the Lion. “I am an animal of the forests.”

He turned back to the Stormbird that had brought them here. His next thought remained unspoken.

That is why I will always be stronger.

~~~~~

Back on Caliban:

Luther had pulled out all the stops to put together a nice party for Belath, who had been browbeaten into attending. He sat at the high table with a party hat on, emanating an aura of anxiety and stress.

“So tell me,” said Luther, who was sitting next to him. “How fares the Lion?” He ate more of the roasted peacock.

“I think he’s still alive,” said Belath uncomfortably.

Luther paused. “You think. Weren’t you just with him?”

“Well, with the warp storms, it’s impossible to know these days,” said Belath. He quickly got Luther up to speed on the entire Heresy situation. “The last I saw the Lion, he was heading towards Maccrage to show Guilliman the path of righteousness,” he finished.

“I see,” said Luther. He frowned. “Given all this though, how can we trust you?”

“Excuse me?” asked Belath, startled.

“Well, with the state of the galaxy, how do we know what’s really going on? Trust no one, not even yourself,” said Luther. Astelan nodded sagely from a few seats down.

“You can’t be serious,” said Belath.

“Sar Zahariel!” Luther called. “Please check Belath’s mind to see if he’s telling the truth.”

Belath shot Luther a hurt glance.

Zahariel stood up, and Belath’s chair scraped backwards as he moved in the direction opposite Zahariel.

“Hold still,” said Zahariel, and closed his eyes.

A moment passed, and he opened them again.

“Yes,” confirmed Zahariel. “He is telling the truth in all matters.”

Belath stood up and glared at them all. “Are you satisfied now? Is there any more humiliation you wish to heap on me? Do you want me to get on all fours and bark like a dog?”

Astelan opened his mouth. Unseen by Belath, Galedan shot him a look and shook his head slowly. Astelan closed his mouth.

Ignoring this byplay, Luther got on one knee in front of Belath and bowed his head in contrition. “I must offer my deepest apologies to you. We should treat your words as if they are from the primarch himself.”

“Then,” said Astelan, thinking on his feet, “I shally rally the troops at once! We are honoured to rejoin our Legion…at long last.”

Belath looked awkward as he helped Luther to his feet. “I’m afraid you are mistaken,” he said. “Your orders are to remain here.”

“Of course they are,” said Luther, smiling. There was nothing unusual about his smile at all. It was a perfectly normal smile. So, what, then, was this menacing aura?

“Thank you for the dinner,” said Belath. “I must go see to my quarters.” He turned and strode off towards the exit. At a perfectly normal pace.

~~~~~

“We have to kill him,” said Astelan, the moment the doors closed behind them as they entered Luther’s study.

“No!” yelled everyone else as one.

“You’re letting your hatred of him get in the way of your common sense,” said Zahariel.

“That’s rich, coming from the man who ripped his way into Belath’s mind twice,” Astelan sneered.

Luther pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you people act like actual adults for once in your lives? Astelan, we’re not killing anyone.”

Astelan snorted.

“Okay, we’re not killing anyone we don’t need to kill, and no, we don’t need to kill Belath,” Luther amended.

Zahariel cleared his throat. “Regardless of our different opinions, we need to be united on one thing that has primacy over everything else. We are all agreed that the Lion does not deserve our allegiance, correct?”

There was a pause.

Astelan snorted. “Obviously.”

The others all nodded.

“But where do we go from here?” Astelan asked.

“Our priority is Caliban,” said Luther. Zahariel nodded. “We must choose a path that will lead to freedom for Caliban,” Luther continued, “and that means staying out of the war as much as we can. When it’s over…we’ll decide what to do next.”

Chapter Text

Caliban:

Zahariel sighed in satisfaction as he took in his new fancy room, that was built to be exactly what a psyker needed to be comfy. Yes, this was the life…

"Master Zahariel?" Vassago asked. Oh right, this wasn't just his room. This was the Librarian- er, Mystai workroom.

It was time to introduce the others to the spirit of Caliban.

Swiftly, one after the other, the Mystai let in the power of Caliban, opening eyes and thoughts to the majesty of their world. There was a brief flicker of resistance, an unconscious reflex from Vassago.

Growing within the barrier, the Ouroboros exerted its power. The lead on the walls started to melt, running from the etched channels, the tracery of barrier runes evaporating as psychic force assailed it within and without. As the cliff must eventually crash down under the constant gnawing of the sea, so the warding symbols failed, the wash of Caliban's power flowing into the breach.

Zahariel laughed as the energy infused his body. His disciples laughed with him.

'Brothers,' he told them, opening eyes that shone with emerald green light. 'Now you share my vision, my purpose.'

'The will of Caliban be done,' they replied.

~~~~

Maccrage:

Lion looked down with pleasure at the changes they'd made to the scale model of Maccrage's capital city, which was also named Maccrage. Kind of boring, but then it was Guilliman's city. Real models were so much better than holograms, he thought, thinking fondly of his model train collection back on his ship.

"I didn't know you had an interest in city design," said Guilliman. I didn't think you had enough braincells in your ham-filled head was left unsaid.

"I can have depths," said the Lion defensively. "Sanguinius, what about you? Do you also like models?"

Sanguinius didn't reply.

"Sanguinius?"

"That sounds fine," said Sanguinius absentmindedly.

"Sanguinius, have you been listening to us at all?" Lion asked. "Because the only things you've said all day have been 'that sounds fine' and 'sure whatever' whenever anyone asks you a question."

"Well, the two of you don't really need me for this, do you?" said Sanguinius. "I'm sure you'll create something great together, but I don't know a thing about city planning."

"And I'm kind of surprised Lion does," he muttered in an undertone. Across the room, Holguin was torn between his desire to defend the Lion by revealing the many elaborate train dioramas he had built versus the fear that this might have the opposite effect he wanted.

"Anyways, I'll leave you to it," Sanguinius continued, seizing his chance to leave. "My other duties await." He absconded at a stately pace.

Guilliman and Lion looked at each other.

"Well, if we're both agreed, then I'll start sending out the orders to my men," said Lion.

"No objections," said Guilliman. "I trust that you're going to treat Maccrage just like your own world."

With a pang, Lion thought about Caliban. Was Guilliman taking a jab at how he had treated his own planet? Or did he just have a guilty conscience?

No, the Lion soothed himself, he had of course done nothing wrong.

"It was just an offhand comment," said Guilliman, "not a difficult philosophical proposition.

The Lion realised he had been caught in a public moment of introspection and responded out of instinct, withdrawing into himself.

'Be sure the orbital screen is down,' he said and stalked from the hall.

~~~~

Not for the first time, Guilliman wondered what the Emperor had been smoking when He had chosen to make the primarchs so large. Oh, sure, it was useful in a fight, but most of his life was not spent in battle. Most of it was, in fact, spent at this specific giant desk. The desk that, unfortunately due to its size, made even Space Marines look like misbehaving children who had been sent to the principal's office.

The poor Ultramarine here was no exception to this.

"Those Dark Angels are up to something," said Valentus. "Look, they're positioning the orbital weapons towards the surface!"

Kids, can you try to get along, Dad doesn't like this either, was what Guilliman wanted to say. Instead he settled for making a noncommittal noise.

"I will make a note of it," Guilliman said. "Now, was there anything else?"

"Lady Euten says hello and wishes you her best," said Valentus. "And also wants to make sure you go to bed at a reasonable hour."

"Her well-wishes are appreciated," said Guilliman. "You can tell her of course I'm going to bed at a reasonable hour," he lied blatantly.

"Next!" said Guilliman as he stacked Valentus' report on top of the rest. It was by this point a rather substantial pile.

Prayto, his Chief Librarian, walked in.

"So what's your problem with the Dark Angels," Guilliman asked, or rather stated, in a resigned tone.

Prayto shot him a quizzical look.

"Every single visitor I have had today has had some complaint about them," said Guilliman. "Are you going to buck the trend?"

"Er…well…"

"Just go ahead," said Guilliman.

"The Dark Angels are scanning everyone's minds," said Prayto.

"Yeah," said Guilliman. "They do that. Just…deal with it for now. It's only for now."

"This is true," said Prayto. "After all, how long could it take them to find Curze?"

"I'm sure it won't be long at all," said Guilliman. "Now, is that all?"

After Prayto had left, Guilliman looked at the giant pile of reports on his desk, then at the data slate with another fifty-seven. All of them were complaints about the Dark Angels that had come up in the twenty hours since Lion had started instituting his protocols and such.

Guilliman really, really hoped they were making progress with security and finding Curze, because they sure were doing their very best to burn every single bridge with not only the Ultramarines, but every single piece of civilian or military authority in the entire Imperium Secundus.

~~~~

"All right," said Holguin, doing his best to psych himself and the rest of the Deathwing up, "Don't forget that we are the First Legion and we act by the will and authority of the Lion, the Lord Protector of the Imperium. We don't need to take anything from these Ultramarines. Let's head out."

And thus they marched into the Fortress of Hera, until they came to the last assembly hall.

It was full of Space Marines in the livery of several Legions. Holguin ordered his men to stand fast as he spied Drakus Gorod across the antechamber. The Captain of the Invictus bodyguard saw him and the two met halfway across the tiled floor.

'I am here on the orders of the Lord Protector of the Imperium,' Holguin announced grandly, drawing his greatsword, the tip rounded in the style of the Windmir reavers from whom he was descended. 'The Lion of Caliban, primarch of the First Legion, declares Legatus Militant. All authority for the security and close protection of the Imperial Triumvirate and the environs of the Fortress of Hera reside in me and my officers. None shall pass into the presence of the Lords of the Imperium without express permission from me. By my life or death, I will guard them.'

Gorod looked around the reception hall. Holguin followed his gaze, taking in the immobile ranks of the Deathwing, moving across the Ultramarines Cataphractii Terminators guarding the entryway, past the wounded Azkaellon and his Sanguinary Guard prowling at the doors to the audience chamber, before coming to rest on the Space Wolves watch-pack lounging at the far side of the hall. There were some White Scars as well, and a few dozen soldiers of the Praecental Guard. Holguin recognised amongst them the captain of the household division, Vodun Badorum.

The commander of the Invictarus elite turned his flat stare back to the leader of the Deathwing.

"Well, that's a relief."

Chapter Text

So, let’s see how the Dark Angels are handling the Search for Curze:

In a picturesque mountain town, three Dark Angels investigated the latest traces - a suspiciously empty cave full of barrels labelled “not explosives”.
“Wait,” said one of them, “I think it’s a tra-“

He was cut as the Dark Angel in front walked across a shining tripwire.

The last thing the three of them heard was the sound of the entire mountainside collapsing on them - oh, and the death cries of the Dark Angels who had been waiting a bit further down.

Maccrage: 4


Dark Angels: 0

~~~~

Captain Nerallan looked at another report. Despite the many casualties they had gathered so far, they were definitely making progress. At least in antagonizing the citizenry. Yes, he was pretty sure what to do now.

Order an airstrike on a peaceful sleepy town.

~~~~

“Hm,” the Lion’s eyebrow twitched.

“More bad news?” asked Sanguinius sympathetically.

“Your people have started suicide bombing us,” said Lion to Guilliman.

Guilliman winced. “I did warn you about Illyria…”

“I bet Curze is behind it,” said Lion, clenching his fist. “I’m going to have to tighten security on the capital.”

“Are you kidding me?” Guilliman asked. “What is there to tighten? What, are you going to regulate the oxygen content in the air?”

“If I can…” Lion said darkly.

“Look,” said Guilliman. “The more tyrannical we get, the more we make Curze look justified. This is exactly what he wants us to do, to abuse our power and prove him right.”

“However, you forget,” said the Lion. “There is one important fact that separates us from Curze.”

“What is that?” Sanguinius leaned forwards, intrigued.

“We are right, and he is wrong,” replied the Lion.

Guilliman laughed without humour, and Sanguinius leaned back, disappointed.

“Is it really that simple to you?” Guilliman laughed.

“Always has been,” Lion said. He turned to Holguin, who had been listening to the entire conversation. “Little brother, what do you think?”

“You are correct, my liege,” Holguin said. “No one does a thing believing it to be wrong. The only judges are our hearts and peers. So if we all agree it’s right to do to someone, it’s right, because they’re wrong.”

Lion looked over at Guilliman in triumph.

Guilliman looked up at the ceiling, as if wishing for a god he didn’t believe in to strike him dead with lightning so he didn’t have to have this conversation. Since no lightning occurred, he took a deep breath.

“If you say something is wrong, and tell people not to do it,” said Guilliman slowly, “and then you do it yourself, that is bad, Lion. That is an additional kind of bad besides the original bad. Bad things don’t stop being bad because you do them to people you think deserve it.”

Lion wasn’t looking at Guilliman.

“This is the worst kind of hypocrisy,” said Guilliman. “Let me spell it for you. H - Y - P-“

“Hey, Guilliman,” said Lion, interrupting. “How do you spell Monarchia, huh?”

“That was different!” protested Guilliman weakly. “The Emperor ordered it and…”

“Exactly!” said Lion triumphantly. “The Emperor’s on my side here. There’s a lot of stuff he’s ordered that’s wrong when other people do it, but not when we do it, because we’re the righteous ones here. Unless you’re saying you’d go against the Emperor?” His eyes gleamed.

“I never said that!” Guilliman looked harassed. “The Emperor would never order something that was- Sanguinius, back me up?”

“Monarchia was the merciful choice, brother,” said Sanguinius. “It was better than killing our brother for the crime. The Emperor would never order anything unjust because it is from Him that all justice flows.”

“I’m glad we’re all agreed that only primarch lives matter,” said Lion. “Anyways, you two can sit here in the dark and cry while I go out and do my actual job. Dropping bombs on childrens’ heads.”

~~~

Caliban:

Astelan paced back and forth. “We shouldn’t have let Belath go back to his ship,” he muttered.

Zahariel raised an eyebrow. Astelan definitely wasn’t jealous of his ability to do that. “Who is this ‘we’ you are speaking of?” he asked sardonically. “It was Luther who let him go.”

Astelan grumbled incoherently.

“Also, you’ve been sulking about this for ages. In the words of the sages, “let it go, man”,” continued Zahariel.

“I have not been sulking!” Astelan said indignantly. “I’m just concerned! As anyone in my position would be.”

Zahariel rolled his eyes. “Well you can put your concern to rest because there isn’t really anything he can do up there in orbit.”

“He’s coming back down, Zahariel!”

“There isn’t much he can do down here either,” Zahariel said with slightly exaggerated patience.

“But what if he’s suspicious?”

“The only thing he’s got to be suspicious about is your boorish behaviour,” Zahariel was reaching the end of his rope. “Now are you capable of acting like a normal person and not a child?”

“He won’t find any reason to be suspicious of me,” Astelan said.

The two were interrupted as Belath's ship had arrived.

Zahariel started swearing internally as the door opened and two Space Marines walked out. Belath had brought a Librarian with him. The same Librarian who had been there at his cousin’s death.

“You have brought a friend,” said Astelan. He nodded at the Librarian. “How nice.”

Chapter Text

Zahariel was panicking internally.

A Librarian. Belath had brought someone who could read Astelan's mind.

Quick, he thought, I'd better get in there first and hide all the important stuff.

He reached out towards Astelan's mind and-

What?

He was burning to death in a golden fog, he was deafened by a voice from the heavens, he was-

What was that??

He did his best to get free of Astelan's mind and managed to see Asmodeus react in much the same way to Astelan. Asmodeus stared at Astelan in shock.

Meanwhile, while the two of them had been trying to break into Astelan's brain, Astelan and Belath had continued their petty sniping.

+What is going on???+ Asmodeus asked Zahariel.

+I don't know?? I've never seen any of this before+

+It didn't burn you though, right?+

+Right+

There was a moment of mental silence. Asmodeus stared at Zahariel with sad wet eyes. Zahariel immediately felt the urge to protect him.

+Zahariel, I just wanted to say, I'm so sorry about Nemiel's death, I know the Lion acted in haste and probably regrets it now…+

With great effort, Zahariel managed to not make a disparaging remark about the Lion.

+I know it wasn't really your fault+ said Zahariel. He didn't want to think about this right now. Er, time to resolve the weird Astelan incident.

"Excuse me," he said out loud, interrupting the bickering, "I need to ask Astelan something."

Astelan looked over at him.

"What did the Emperor do to you?" Zahariel asked, staring at him intensely.

Astelan grinned and tapped the side of his head. "Can't read my thoughts if I don't have any," he smirked.

Zahariel gave him a flat look.

"It was something the Emperor did for all of us back in those early days, back when we were fighting psychic warlords," he said. "It's nothing to worry about. Unless of course you're trying to look somewhere you're not."

"No, we definitely didn't do that," said Zahariel.

"It just kind of beams off of you," Asmodeus backed him up.

Belath, seeing the opportunity, decided to restart the bickering with the argument that the Emperor had stuck defences in Astelan's name so no one could see there really was nothing inside it but petty spite. And the two were off again.

+Come with me+ said Zahariel psychically to Asmodeus. +There's some people I want you to meet.+. It was time to adopt another sad wet cat into the Mystai.

~~~~

I wish I could tear down that banner, though Luther viciously about the Legion standard that fluttered above him. And then rip it up into small pieces, and then run the small pieces through a woodchipper, and then light the dust on fire so it caused an explosion.

This was a regular thought he had about this accursed banner. And everything it represented.

However, despite everything, he still couldn't find it in himself to regret finding Lion. It's not that he didn't care about him any more. That would be a lot easier, in some ways. He just didn't think someone with ham for brains should be in charge of organizing the Caliban cheer squadron, let alone an entire legion of space marines. But there was no good way to tell Lion that.

His thoughts of the past were interrupted by Belath's arrival in the hall.

"Welcome, Chapter Master Belath," he said, hurrying towards him. "I really must apologize for our previous rude meeting."

"Don't worry about it," said Belath. "My main concern is-"

He was interrupted as a group of servants carrying buckets of water and other cleaning paraphernalia came into the hall.

"How unfortunate," said Luther, though he had arranged for them to come in at this time specifically to interrupt him and Belath. "I completely forgot! The hall needs to be prepared for the banquet, I should have thought to have the meeting somewhere else."

"What banquet, Master Luther?"

"Why, your feast of honour, Master Belath."

"I don't want a feast of honour," said Belath. "I want my recruits."

"Of course you do," said Luther. Despite the height disparity, he was able to shepherd Belath to the door.

"Why is this taking so long?" Belath asked. "It's been eleven days. A more suspicious man than me would think you were hiding something."

"It takes time to get together thirty thousand space marines who have never left the planet," said Luther, soothingly. "So I really must insist on the feast. Their connection to the legion and to the primarch is very thin. The feast will act as my endorsement and a ceremonial handover, so they will follow you."

Then Luther pulled out his secret weapon.

Luther's sudden smile was like the full heat of the sun, all-encompassing and overpowering, and Belath cracked after just a few seconds. When he grinned, the scarred warrior had a boyish look even now, and he bowed his head unconsciously in deference to the Grand Master.

"Well...I suppose...it does make sense," said Belath.

~~~

The door closed behind Belath as Luther left him in his quarters. He hadn't taken more than a few steps when Lord Cypher hurried up to him.

"Do you think he will come around to our point of view?" He asked.

"That's your job now for the rest of the afternoon," said Luther.

Cypher rolled his eyes. "I don't see the point. We aren't required to convince him and his men, now that they're on the ground…"

"Require? Require?" Luther bared his teeth. "If we did only that which is required, we would meekly serve out our time until the Emperor, Horus or the Lion returned to place us in bondage once again. We do what is right , Lord Cypher. We bring honour to the Order, to Caliban. If not for these values, why persist? It is our way of life, our traditions, our worth that we strive to protect."

"And what if Belath and his men no longer share those values and traditions?"

"Why is it that both you and Astelan are stuck on this point?" Luther asked, aggravated.

"You know, it's rare that me and that Terran agree on anything," said Cypher. "So maybe you should take note of that. And that's not an answer to my question…just tell me the truth. Do you think you could give the command to silence Belath?"

"If we're talking about truth," said Luther, "we should probably discuss some of the truths you've been hiding from me. I know you were up to something in the Northwoods, and we're going to have to discuss it sooner or later." Luther sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just…do your job, Cypher. If you put me in a position where I am forced to make this choice, you will regret it."

Luther spun on his heel and walked away. To tell the truth to himself, he wasn't sure if he could give the order to kill Belath. But you know what, he'd burn that bridge if he came to it. Not before.

Chapter Text

Caliban:

The preparations for the feast were underway. Zahariel had gathered the Librarians together to go over their orders one last time. Unfortunately, as usual, they were engaging in standard Dark Angel activities, i.e. gossip.

"Do you think Sar Griffayne will be joining us?"

"He's very cool, isn't he."

Two other librarian nodded. "I heard that he-"

"A-hem." Zahariel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Focus, people. Now, remember, light scans only, don't try to force your way into anyone's mind. If you run into a problem, get me and I'll deal with it."

They patiently looked at him with an expression that told him they knew perfectly well what they were doing and were just humouring him out of loyalty. Zahariel however was too stressed by what he knew was coming to have any patience.

~~~~

Astelan, as usual, was plotting. Griffayne and Belath were native Calibanites, unlike him, and so would be accorded greater respect. Perhaps it would be better for him if the two of them didn't join their group…

~~~~

Ultramar:

"Why are those people yelling and holding up signs insulting my Legion?" Holguin asked. "And why did you stop me from killing them?"

Vodun Badorum, his Ultramarine partner for this assignment, sighed. "It's a protest, Holguin. They're protesting."

"Why?"

"Well," said Badorum, putting up a finger as he went through his list, "everyone is on rationed bread because your security measures mean the grain mill is only working half the time, the red scarves they're wearing symbolize how they're being worked to the bone and…your communications blackout has taken Wizards of Waverly Place off the air."

"What do you mean, 'your' security measures?"

"Our security measures, of course," said Badorum, quickly (and sourly).

"That doesn't explain why they're protesting," said Holguin.

Badorum began to realize the depth of the problem he was facing (the Dark Angels' geneseed flaw i.e. lack of braincells). "They want us to know that they're unhappy," he said slowly. "They are sending a message to the Triumvirate."

"What does that matter?" asked Holguin curiously. "Regardless," he continued, "they're in violation of the edict against more than five people meeting in a public space. Rebels could be hiding among them, they need to be dispersed." It was no wonder that Curze had been able to break in the first time, Holguin thought, seeing as these weak willed…Ultramarines…had been guarding the Fortress of Hera.

"If you just let them shout it out, they'll go away," said Badorum. "All we'll do by forcing the issue is create more resentment."

"If you won't do it, I will," said Holguin.

"Nonlethally, right?" asked Badorum.

Holguin paused.

"'Nonlethal' does not feature in the vocabulary of the Legiones Astartes. Even when unarmed."

I'm an Astartes too, you ham-brained butcher, thought Badorum. "I'll manage it," he said. "But you can't arrest everyone who doesn't like your primarch."

I'm sure we can, thought Holguin. He turned back up to the Fortress of Terra, leaving Badorum.

Well, this is a mess, thought Badorum. But I'm sure Guilliman knows what he's doing and is taking steps to fix this. He always does.

~~~~

Guilliman had no idea how he was going to fix this.

"It was the wrong policy to placate Illyria!" Lion yelled. "They have no loyalty to us at all!"

"We still have no proof that anyone there is sheltering Curze," said Guilliman evenly. This might be another meeting where they all just yelled at each other, but by the Emperor (who was definitely not a god), he was going to do his best to prevent it.

"Think about it, Guilliman!" roared Lion, pounding the table for emphasis, "who else would help him? Taking them out serves two purposes, ending this hunt for Curze, and ridding your planet of a cancer!"

"What do you mean?" Guilliman leaned forwards. Lion was being even more ominous than usual.

"Illyria has always been a problem for you, hasn't it? Rebellious, unproductive, non-compliant! They don't want to be part of the Imperium! They killed your father! To cure this infection at the heart of the Imperium, we must cut it out! Orbital scouring!" Spit flew from his mouth.

"You've lost what remains of your tiny mind!" Guilliman yelled back. "How dare you bring Konor's death into it! He would never want this!"

"Orbital. Scouring," the Lion repeated ominously. He turned to look at Sanguinius. "Illyria is the only thing that is tying down all our legions. A few million people…" he made a 'poof!' gesture with his hands, "and it's all over."

"My people are not expendable-"

The Lion smugged like a cat surrounded by knives as Guilliman fell into his trap. "Your people?" He asked silkily. "Not our people? If they're anyone's people, aren't they our Emperor here's people?"

Sanguinius looked at him with a hawk-like stare. Guilliman took a deep breath. Curse you, Lion! He was already on thin enough ice with Sanguinius for trying to backseat drive. He could not be seen to go against him now.

"I have to object on moral grounds," he said in a dignified tone. Lion coughed something that sounded like "hypocrite". Guilliman pressed on. "Killing four million people - citizens of the Imperium! - on the chance that one man is hiding among them is not an action that should be taken by anything calling itself the Imperium. It is a betrayal of our - stop coughing, Lion! - values."

"Remind me again," said the Lion, "how many of the Five Hundred Worlds joined the Imperium only by force? How many did you set your legion upon?"

"Thirty-eight," said Guilliman coolly. "Do you want me to name them all for you?"

"Not really," said the Lion.

"We only used that level of force after trying literally everything else, unlike some people in this room," said Guilliman. "Not- not to mention, do you have any idea what kind of propaganda victory this would be for the traitors! It's an example of tyranny so obvious and heavy-handed that its only place is in a children's book showing who the villains are!"

This was it.

"I will not be part of any Imperium that chooses to do this. If you do this, I will leave this Triumvirate and Imperium Secundus will dissolve."

"You're blackmailing me-us?" Lion hissed. He glared at Guilliman.

Sanguinius sighed. The two of them fell silent. After a moment, he spoke.

"I will not be ordering orbital bombardment," he said. "He's right. It's overkill. And there's not even any guarantee that it would successfully kill Curze. I do think that Curze is there, and that he's behind this rebellion. Get rid of him, and they will be easily squashed. That is your job, Lion. Find him. Stop this. Use any means short of wiping out Illyria from orbit."

Lion raised his eyebrows briefly. "As you will it."

"And I'm out," said Sanguinius, standing up. "Don't keep arguing about this." He swept off into the hallway.

The Lion and Guilliman looked at each other.

"What will you do now?" asked Guilliman.

"Exactly what our Emperor said," the Lion replied. "Solve this using any means necessary."