Rhodes entered the training hall. After some time recovering, Rogal Dorn was fully healed, able to wield a power sword and spar with his gene-sons.
Several Black Templars were currently attacking Dorn in training.
The Black Templars excelled at swordsmanship. With their new Astartes upgrades and teamwork, they could even hold off Dorn's attacks—a feat even the old Custodes would envy.
"Your swordplay is very familiar. Where did you learn it?" Dorn asked.
These new-age Astartes were strong, even stronger than the Custodes. Sparring with them, Dorn recognized their style as Sigismund's swordsmanship—his most prized gene-son.
After so many days' training, Dorn noticed that these gene-sons also seemed to have deep respect for him, beyond what his rank warranted.
"Training's over for today. You may go," Rhodes said, entering.
The trainees quickly broke off, bowed to Rhodes, then to Dorn, and respectfully left.
Sparring with the gene-father was an honor; it felt like a special farewell. In truth, Lord Sigismund's berserk sword style suited Rhodes's gene-sons even better, as their berserk transformations greatly amplified their power. In the spar, they hadn't even used that ability—if they had, they might even have overpowered Dorn.
"These new Astartes are far stronger than I expected. I thought if they matched half a Custode's power, it'd be impressive. But their overall strength already surpasses the Custodes," Dorn admitted, setting down his training weapon.
"The new Astartes upgrades were developed by my scientists. Unlike the old 19 superhuman organs, these have several new ones, plus improved versions of the old ones. The gene-seed has also been updated, and their full potential hasn't even been reached yet," Rhodes explained.
The upgraded Astartes required gene-seeds refined through cosmic phantom beast-enhanced Primarchs, but this tech was still experimental, only used in Rhodes's legion.
Mass production hadn't begun.
"It's an incredible achievement. If there were more of them, I'd be at risk. Twenty could defeat me, thirty could kill me, and fifty could capture me alive," Dorn said, clearly impressed.
"Thanks for the compliment," Rhodes smiled.
"I'm just speaking the truth. I noticed their swordsmanship is very similar to one of my own gene-sons. Sparring with them felt like seeing my old subordinate again," Dorn probed.
Rhodes laughed. "Of course it's familiar! Their swordsmanship was indeed passed down from Sigismund. Even after ten thousand years, his style remains. These were your gene-sons, but I recruited some Black Templars to join my legion and switched their gene-seeds."
Rhodes made no effort to hide his poaching—Sigismund's style and spirit suited his gene-sons well.
"You took my sons! Has my legion been disbanded?" Dorn asked, displeased.
"The Imperial Fists are intact. All the chapters have returned, with numbers in the tens of thousands. You'll be able to expand them further when you return," Rhodes replied.
"Good. I was worried you'd taken them all," Dorn said.
"I just wanted to pass on Sigismund's sword style to my sons, and they're better suited to my legion's tactics. They didn't go all out against you. My gene-seeds let Marines survive in space and grant them a berserk transformation that doubles their strength."
Dorn frowned—if Rhodes wanted his sword style, why not just have his sons teach it?
"And I didn't mistreat them. I gave them full upgrades—new-generation Astartes surgery is tricky; only my medical pods can do it safely. Without them, old Astartes upgrading to new would almost certainly die," Rhodes said.
"I see. Let's leave it at that. My sons don't seem unhappy," Dorn conceded.
As long as they served the Emperor, it didn't matter whose legion they were in. Their loyalty would carry over.
"Of course, and there aren't that many of them."
"So, what did you want to discuss?" Dorn asked.
"There's something I need your advice on. When I attacked the Necron base, besides rescuing you, I also found several cloned Primarchs. I'm unsure what to do with them," Rhodes said.
"Cloned Primarchs? Who did such a heretical thing? Was it those damned Necrons?" Dorn was furious.
Had he himself been cloned during captivity? The thought was chilling.
"It was Fabius Bile, former chief apothecary of the Emperor's Children. But he only cloned traitor Primarchs; he lacked living tissue for the loyalists," Rhodes explained.
"Who did he clone? How strong are they?" Dorn asked.
"Horus, Fulgrim, Lorgar, Angron, Mortarion, and Alpharius," Rhodes replied.
Magnus wasn't among them—his body was destroyed on Prospero.
"They're slightly stronger than the Custodes, about equal to the new Astartes. That's their level," Rhodes said.
If Rhodes's gene-sons used berserk transformation, the clones wouldn't stand a chance.
"I understand. My advice: destroy all the traitor clones," Dorn said.
He didn't even ask about their loyalty. There was no point—these clones would only disgust the Imperium and the Emperor, and even the people would never accept them, even as clones.
They were useless, even as warriors—new Astartes were already better.
Nor could they be released; they'd likely become Chaos Lords or Champions—Chaos gods loved such things.
So the best solution was total destruction, eliminating future threats.
"Understood," Rhodes said.
Thinking it over, these clones really were useless—just a stain on the Imperium. Their combat ability only matched the new Astartes, nothing more.
Some of them were loyalists, like the Fulgrim and Lorgar clones. Some fans even claimed the Fulgrim clone was the real one, since the daemon prince Fulgrim was possessed by a Slaanesh greater daemon when wielding the Slaanesh artifact!