=== Vulkan ===
The chamber was silent as the heavy doors parted with a low, grinding resonance as Vulkan entered, his immense frame casting a long shadow across the stone floor. At his side walked Nira, still holding Luke in her arms. To her right walked Sienn, who held Leia.
Waiting in the center of the chamber stood Maximus and Sebastian, both having just returned from Mustafar.
The moment Vulkan crossed the threshold, both dropped immediately to one knee, striking the ground with a reverberation that echoed faintly through the chamber.
Vulkan did not acknowledge them.
His gaze had already moved past them, drawn toward the form that lay at the heart of the room.
Raxor.
What remained of him lay upon a raised slab of black stone, the armor of the Salamanders that had once been a symbol of indomitable strength now little more than a shattered husk, warped and cracked from the fury of Mustafar's fires.
The ceramite was split open in places, revealing the ruin beneath, burned flesh, seared beyond recognition in some areas, yet still bearing the strength of a warrior who had stood his ground until the very end. Even in death, there was a defiance in the way he lay, as though the flames themselves had struggled to claim him.
For a long moment, Vulkan said nothing.
He stepped forward slowly, each footfall heavy with a grief. When he reached the slab, he did not reach out immediately. Instead, he stood over his fallen son unmoving as he took in every detail, every mark of the battle that had taken him, committing it all to memory.
"Did my son die well?"
The question hung in the air for several moments.
Behind him, Maximus and Sebastian remained kneeling, their heads bowed, yet there was no hesitation in their answer when it came.
"Yes." The word left them together, a single, unified truth.
Vulkan closed his eyes.
"And what of the one who killed him?"
This time, it was Maximus who answered. "He fled Mustafar, my Lord. Returned to Coruscant, most likely."
"I understand."
Sebastian's head lifted slightly at that.
"My Lord we must strike," he said, his voice hard. "We must bring the full wrath of the Imperium upon Coruscant. We must tear it from the stars and burn it until nothing remains. Every soul complicit in this war, every world that supports the Republic, we must cleanse them all! And we must not stop until this galaxy learns what it means to incur our wrath."
Sebastian rose slightly from his kneel in conviction, his gauntleted fists tightening at his sides as though he had grabbed the Darksaber, feeling the hilt in his grasp, already seeing the fires of retribution sweeping across the stars. "Let them know fear, my Lord," he pressed, his voice rising with a fervent edge. "Let them know that the blood of your sons is not spilled without consequence. We will burn every world to ash if we must—"
"No."
The single word stopped the Black Templar dead in his tracks.
Maximus stiffened beside him.
And for the first time since entering the chamber, Vulkan turned.
His gaze did not fall upon the Astartes immediately. Instead, it moved to where Nira and Sienn stood, the twins cradled in their arms.
Luke and Leia stirred faintly, unaware of the storm that raged around them, unaware of the legacy they had been born into.
Vulkan studied them for a long moment, then he turned back to his son's body.
"The Imperium has more important things to do," he said, his voice quieter now, but no less absolute. "Then to avenge my son."
The words struck harder than any shouted command.
Maximus' jaw tightened, though he said nothing, his discipline holding firm even as the weight of that decision settled upon him. But Sebastian… The struggle within him was plain, written in the tension of his frame, in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly at his sides.
Vulkan did not elaborate. He simply turned away from them all.
"Leave me."
Agemman moved first, as he guided Nira and Sienn toward the exit, ensuring the safety of the children even as he cast one final glance toward the fallen Salamander upon the slab. Maximus rose next, placing a firm hand upon Sebastian's shoulder as he passed, a silent reminder of duty, of obedience, of the chain that bound them all.
Sebastian did not follow immediately.
His feet felt rooted to the floor, his gaze lingering on Raxor's ruined form, the fire within him warring against the command he had been given. To leave felt wrong. To walk away from this, to accept it without retribution, felt like a betrayal of everything he was.
But at last… he reluctantly turned away.
"Sebastian."
The Black Templar turned back at once, dropping to one knee again without hesitation.
"My Lord."
Vulkan stood beside the slab, one massive hand now resting gently against what remained of Raxor's shoulder.
"Stay for a moment."
Maximus' hand lingered for a moment on Sebastian's shoulder, then withdrew, the Ultramarine giving him a final, knowing look before turning and departing the chamber, the great doors closing behind him with a resounding finality that left only two figures within.
"Stand."
Sebastian rose immediately, He did not speak, did not question, simply stood at attention before the Primarch, waiting.
Vulkan studied him for a moment longer, his expression shifting.
"You disagree with me."
It was not a question.
"I see it in you. In the way you stand. Just like your father." Vulkan took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them just slightly. "So I will not have you hide behind duty or restraint. Not here."
His voice lowered.
"Speak plainly, Sebastian. Tell me what you truly think."
For a moment, Sebastian said nothing. His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering downward as though wrestling with the weight of what was on his mind.
Sebastian drew in a slow breath, steadying himself, and when he looked up again, there was no fear left in him.
"My Lord… I believe you are wrong."
There was no turning back now.
"My brother is dead," Sebastian continued, his voice tightening, the emotion beneath it no longer restrained. "Your son is dead." He took a step forward without realizing it, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "And the one responsible still lives. The Republic still stands. The war still burns across the stars."
His gaze locked onto Vulkan's.
"And we are going to do nothing? We are going to let this go unanswered?" His voice rose slightly. "We have the strength. We have the means. They are wounded and vulnerable, and instead of striking, instead of ending this while we have the advantage, we… wait?"
His lip curled slightly, not in disrespect, but in raw disbelief.
"That is not strength, my Lord," he said, the words cutting clean and direct. "That is weakness."
"You speak of weakness," Vulkan said slowly, his voice deepening. "To me?"
He took a step forward.
Sebastian did not move.
"You have lost a brother," Vulkan continued, his gaze unwavering, pressing down with the sheer gravity of his presence. "And that loss is real. It is not something I would diminish."
He took another step forward, now towering over the Black Templar.
"But I have lost a son. And I will not be told," Vulkan went on, "that my unwillingness to burn entire worlds in his name… is weakness."
That should have been the end of it, and for any other Astartes, it would have been, but something in Sebastian snapped.
His hand rose before he could stop it, a gauntleted finger pointing at the Primarch.
"A son you didn't even know! A son whose name you didn't even learn of until just hours ago!"
The words tore from him.
The instant they left his mouth, the weight of what he was doing hit him, but he did not stop.
"Where were you?" Sebastian demanded, his voice no longer controlled, no longer measured, but burning with something raw and angry. "Where were you when the Imperium needed you? When your sons were dying by the thousands, and the people of the Imperium by the billions?" His chest rose and fell heavily. "Where were you when the galaxy was tearing itself apart and we stood alone against it?"
He took another step forward, closing the distance entirely now, standing before the Primarch as a son of the Imperium who had endured without him.
"You were gone, and now you return… and you take command… and you tell us not to strike? Not to avenge them?" His jaw clenched. "Not to avenge him?"
His voice rose again.
"I hate it!"
"I hate that you can stand there, and speak of patience, and restraint, and 'greater purpose'… when the right decision is right in front of us." His hand lowered slowly, though it still trembled with the force of everything he had said. "They are weak. They are broken. And we should be ending this."
His breath came heavy now, chest rising and falling as the last of his words left him, the fire that had driven them finally burning itself out.
"And we are not. And I cannot avenge my Brother. Because you have forbidden it."
Silence fell.
Sebastian stood there, facing the Primarch, the enormity of what he had said settling upon him, but he did not look away.
And Vulkan… smiled.
"Rogal Dorn would be proud of you."
The words seemed to catch Sebastian completely off guard.
"For a moment," Vulkan continued, his voice softening, "I thought it was your father speaking to me."
Sebastian blinked, the tension in him faltering, confusion cutting through the remnants of his anger as the meaning of those words settled in.
Vulkan inclined his head slightly.
"You have conviction. You have clarity. And you have the courage to speak what you believe… even when you stand before a Primarch." A faint breath escaped him.
He turned then, slowly, returning his attention to Raxor.
"They are strengths."
Another pause.
"Thank you, Sebastian. For your honesty."
"I have been gone for a long time," Vulkan said at last, his voice low and reflective, carrying a depth that reached far beyond the confines of the room. "Too long." There was no bitterness in it, no anger. "The Warp… it does not pass time as we understand it. I have walked paths that do not exist, seen things that cannot be spoken, endured… things no being should ever have to endure." His fingers curled slightly against the broken ceramite of Raxor's shoulder, then stilled again. "And in that time, the galaxy has changed. My sons have changed."
He shifted just slightly enough for his voice to carry more directly toward the Black Templar behind him.
"I do not know you," Vulkan continued, "nor him… not as I should." A pause followed. "Tell me about him."
Sebastian blinked. It was not a question he had expected.
For a moment, he said nothing, his mind struggling to reconcile the image before him, the Primarch of the Salamanders, a being of legend, of myth, whom he had just yelled at, asking him to tell… stories.
"My Lord…" he began, then faltered, the words catching in his throat in a way they never had before. "You wish me to tell you about Raxor?"
"Yes." Vulkan answered.
"Raxor…" He exhaled, the name alone seeming to catch in his throat. "He was the strongest of us. Not in battle, but In will. In spirit. There was… a sturdiness to him. Where others would have buckled, he endured. Where others faltered, he remained." His gaze drifted, to the body upon the slab, as though seeing not what lay there now, but what had once been. "He was always the calmest of our squad. Even in the worst of it… even when the galaxy seemed intent on tearing itself apart… he never lost himself to it."
Sebastian paused, his jaw tightening slightly as memories flashed in his mind.
"He believed in something greater," he went on, more quietly now. "Not just the Imperium. Not just the Emperor." A faint shake of his head followed. "He believed in people. In what they could be. In what they should be."
"My Lord… I am a Black Templar." The words were not prideful now, they were more of a confession. "My faith in the Emperor is absolute. It always has been. From the moment I was raised into the Chapter, I was taught that there was only one purpose… one truth." His hands curled slightly at his sides, gauntlets tightening with the memory of it. "To destroy the enemies of the Emperor. To purge the heretic, the xenos, the traitor… without hesitation. Without mercy."
"I had believed that was enough."
"I saw the citizens of the Imperium as… resources," he admitted, the word sounding almost foreign now. "Necessary. Replaceable. They existed to serve the Emperor, and if they died in that service, then it was a worthy end." His voice lowered further. "I did not see them as people."
"But then… I was honored to join the Deathwatch."
A faint, almost bitter exhale escaped him, though there was no resentment in it, only reflection.
"I was placed alongside an Ultramarine… and a Salamander."
His eye flicked once more to Raxor.
"We clashed. Constantly." A faint, humorless breath followed. "Maximus sought order, discipline, and structure. I sought annihilation. And Raxor…" His voice softened ever so slightly. "Raxor sought to protect."
"He would stop during missions," Sebastian continued, a trace of disbelief still lingering beneath the words, even now. "Divert resources. Risk time. Risk position. All to save civilians." His jaw tightened again. "I saw it as a weakness. As a distraction. As a failure to prioritize the greater war."
He looked down briefly at his brother's body.
"And he saw me as… incomplete."
"Neither of us were wrong," Sebastian said at last, though the certainty in those words was quieter now, more measured. "The Imperium must be defended. Its enemies must be destroyed. That truth does not change." His head lifted slightly. "But neither does the truth that those we defend… matter."
"I did not see it at first," he admitted. "Not consciously. But over time… I began to notice the things he did. The way he spoke to them. The way he treated them." A faint pause. "Like they mattered."
Sebastian took a step forward.
"Without realizing it… I began to do the same."
"I would secure a perimeter… and then check for survivors. I would eliminate a threat… and then ensure the wounded were carried to safety. I would finish a mission… and then remain behind, just a moment longer, to ensure those who lived… could continue to do so."
He let out a quiet breath.
"I told myself it was efficient. That preserving manpower served the Imperium." A faint shake of his head followed. "But that was not the truth."
His eyes lifted, meeting Vulkan's back, not seeking approval, not seeking judgment… only speaking what needed to be spoken.
"It was him."
"Before I knew it… we were no longer three warriors bound by duty. We were brothers."
A long silence followed.
"He taught me something I did not know I had lost… or perhaps never truly had." His gaze returned to Raxor, to the broken form that still somehow carried the presence of the man he had been. "Something beyond my duty. Beyond my faith. Beyond war."
His voice dropped to little more than a breath.
"He taught me how to be human."
For a long moment after Sebastian's final words had faded into silence, Vulkan did not move.
"Thank you," Vulkan said quietly.
The words were simple, yet they carried a sincerity that felt almost out of place in a galaxy built on war. "For telling me of him. For giving me… what I should have known."
Sebastian did not respond. He stood rigid, as though uncertain how to receive such words from a being he had been taught to revere above all others.
"Leave me now. I would be alone with my son."
For a moment, Sebastian did not move.
His gaze lingered on Vulkan's back, on the immense figure that had not struck him down, had not rebuked him with violence… but had listened.
Slowly, he lowered his head.
"My Lord…"
He did not say more.
He turned, and without another word, walked from the chamber, the doors closing behind him with a low, final resonance that left Vulkan alone in the silence once more.
For a long time, he did not move.
He stood beside the slab, looking down at what remained of his son, the echoes of Sebastian's words lingering in the stillness.
Then, at last—
"They were right, you know."
Vulkan's hand shifted, resting more fully against the broken ceramite, his massive fingers tracing the damage as though trying to understand it… as though trying to undo it.
"He was right. When you needed me most…"
His voice faltered.
"I was not there for you, my son."
Slowly, Vulkan turned, his strength, so absolute, so unshakable, seeming to give way. He lowered himself beside the slab, his back pressing against it as he slid down to the floor.
And then… He began to weep.
Not as a demigod.
Not as a Primarch.
But as a father.
His head bowed, his shoulders trembling with grief. The sound was quiet, echoing softly through the chamber as the mask of Vulkan, the Primarch of the Salamanders, the unbreakable son of the Emperor, fell away.
Leaving only a broken man… mourning his son.
===
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