Hektor, having miraculously survived, opened his shoulder plate and took out the last few candies. The Son of Morgan threw them into his mouth, chewing as his mind recovered from its rest.
The new star of the Second Legion enjoyed his only break of the day, surveying the room where he had rested last night. He was currently on a small warship belonging to the First Legion. It was laughable, but in the years he had spent fighting the Randan, he had rested on First Legion warships far more often than on those of his own Second Legion.
Perhaps this was a unique characteristic of a Hunter Squad.
The Astartes' teeth easily crushed the candy, and after extracting as much of the meager industrial saccharin as possible, Hektor had already organized his gear. He stood up, walked out of the room, not forgetting to adjust the small objects placed at the door.
As soon as he pushed open the door, he saw his comrade, the "Giant" Ajax, sitting in front of a workbench, hunched over and meticulously fiddling with unfamiliar metal objects on a pristine white surface.
"What are you doing?"
Hektor walked over, glancing casually at the items on the table. Since he hadn't delved much into mechanical knowledge, he could only barely recognize a few parts, leading him to a simple conclusion: whatever his comrade was tinkering with could definitely not have been manufactured by an Imperial factory.
After all, just a month ago, at least twenty Randan Xenomorphs had used such weapons, trying to blow his head off.
Ajax's muffled reply reached his ears. This warrior, who appeared tall, rugged, and boorish, was at this moment, with a delicacy that even the most meticulous embroiderer would struggle to match, disassembling and reassembling intricate objects no bigger than his fingertip. His deep brown palm swept across the snow-white tabletop like a dark hurricane over a white desert, leaving behind perfectly polished and assembled components.
"Do you remember a month ago? We fought a scattered Randan force on a planet called Cangliang Star, and then we were caught in a Warp Storm. I found this when I was cleaning up the battlefield after that fight. I thought it might still be useful, so I brought it back for my collection."
Hektor listened to the answer, blinked, and looked closer. He noticed that this Xenos weapon seemed slightly different from what he remembered, and evidently, Ajax had also realized this.
"It's not quite like the firearms the Randan Xenomorphs usually use, which is why I brought it back. But I don't know exactly what's different about it, and I wouldn't dare actually use it."
"I also don't know how powerful it is."
Listening to his comrade's murmur, Hektor felt no particular reaction. After all, for warriors of the Second Legion, especially those of their faction, it was a common occurrence to clean up battlefields after a fight and secretly collect trinkets.
This was especially true for Hunter Squads like theirs, which typically consisted of only a few Astartes scattered on the outer edges of the main army, usually without Tech-Priests from Mars accompanying them. A hoarding habit was a common affliction in such circumstances, but it was particularly evident in the towering Ajax.
On a side note, if not for this war, the seemingly burly Ajax should be undergoing advanced training on Mars right now.
"Be careful not to let those Martian Octopi find out. After all, these aren't just some souvenirs."
Hektor patted his comrade's shoulder, and as Ajax absently replied, Hektor turned to leave. But just before he did, he suddenly remembered something.
"By the way, Ajax, are you still modifying your power pack?"
"I'm trying to attach a servo-arm or mechanical tentacle to it, but it's not finished yet."
"...Alright, I don't care what you do in your room. In any case, be careful with everything, and if possible, just stay in your room. Don't go wandering around the First Legion's war machines; they've already come looking for me twice."
"I'm just talking to the souls inside those vehicles; they seem to like me."
Ajax's sullen voice made Hektor raise an eyebrow. He ultimately did not argue with his battle-brother, with whom he had faced life and death. Although Ajax's statement seemed to contradict the Imperial Truth repeatedly emphasized by the Emperor, the Second Legion's attitude towards these so-called truths and regulations had always been consistent:
When they could be obeyed, they naturally should be, for the Emperor's words undoubtedly contained wisdom unimaginable to ordinary people.
But when theory and fact clashed and contradicted...
Being pragmatic wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Among the ancient ruins explored by the warriors of the Second Legion, many artifacts predate even the earliest civilizations imaginable to humanity. The vast majority of items preserved throughout such a long river of time are those supernatural entities absolutely denied by the Imperial Truth, whose every action is an undeniable operation of supernatural power.
At such times, acknowledging the existence of these "cow-headed and snake-bodied deities" is the most crucial first step to combating them or successfully escaping. After dealing with the immediate trouble, the warriors of the Second Legion would naturally restore the Imperial Truth to its unshakeable high position in their hearts.
For the Second Legion, which repeatedly explored ancient ruins and mysterious locations, such a theory was extremely important. After all, stubbornly clinging to the Imperial Truth while turning a blind eye to strange phenomena would likely lead to more warriors dying in those ominous underground palaces.
Therefore, during the Great Crusade, some Legions strictly adhered to the belief in deities, while others sharply denied any supernatural forces. The Second Legion belonged to neither of these, or rather, the Sons of Morgan touched on a bit of both.
Deities could exist or not exist, depending on what happened before their eyes.
And even if deities truly existed, there was no need to hate or worship them; one could simply circumvent their existence. After all, in reality, there were too many things more important than faith: the Legion's numbers urgently needed replenishment, new war situations emerged endlessly, and every new planet could hold unknown dangers and treasures.
Simply put, in the face of the Great Crusade's progress and actual needs these serious matters the so-called deities and beliefs were truly not worth investing any effort in. They brought no practical benefits and only futilely consumed time and resources.
At the very least, within the current Second Legion, this line of thinking was the mainstream ideology accepted by all factions, and Hektor was no exception.
The new star of the Second Legion pleasantly felt the last trace of sluggishness from his rest clear from his mind, and his refreshing keen intellect once again operated at full power.
After reuniting with his great gene-mother, he could clearly feel his body and will growing at an astonishing rate. This was not an illusion, as everyone who knew him marveled at his immense progress in this war. Not long ago, the news of his impending promotion to Captain after the war had arrived, though it seemed this promotion would have to wait.
After all, his company was currently scattered across various corners of the galaxy, fragmented, just like his Legion.
However... such days would not last much longer.
Hektor narrowed his eyes, recalling his dream—the dream he had experienced during his recent rest. Astartes were not supposed to dream, as it would disrupt their rest quality, but he had indeed dreamt: in his dream, he heard his mother's voice, very clear and soft.
He heard the mission he was to undertake in this war.
Morgan's beloved chess piece touched his neck, recalling every detail and requirement of that mission. Thus, he left Ajax, who was immersed in his mechanical world, and entered another room.
His mentor, the Ancient Warrior Kyron, was there, polishing his weapon while observing the Tacus System's star rotating slowly. In the Astartes' gaze, the massive planet, soon to be the main battlefield, revealed its yellowish-brown silhouette amidst the interplay of the void's gloom and the star's light. Its colossal fortresses were faintly visible even from space, like an ugly eyeball constantly shifting its emotionless gaze.
"Fate is always capricious, isn't it, my little Hektor?"
The Ancient Warrior chuckled, examining the colossal planet before placing his polished weapon on the table.
"A world the size of Saturn, which should have been an extremely rare treasure in the entire galaxy, remains desolate to this day."
"Although it was only recently discovered that, long, long ago, this planet was apparently reformed and underwent subterranean construction, even stabilizing its internal structure and improving its gravitational conditions, it was ultimately abandoned, and remains so."
"In the glorious age of the past, people disdained this worthless world, always having better, richer choices. And in those decadent times of strife, no one paid attention to these places at all, until this war chose it, and the name Tacus will shine among the stars."
"War always changes many things."
When Hektor sat down, his teacher's yellowish-brown eyes twinkled brightly. Kyron looked at him, showing the heartfelt joy of a craftsman viewing his proudest work.
"If not for war, my Hektor, you would still be a prince."
"Yes, perhaps that would be the case, Lord Kyron... And you? You never seemed to talk to us about your past."
"Because there's nothing to say."
The Ancient Warrior smiled, resting a hand on his forehead, his eyes seeming to drift into memory and a touch of bewilderment. For most Astartes, their mortal lives were like mythical misty islands, long since blurred beyond recognition.
"If not for this war... perhaps I would still be a herdsman, maybe assigned to another agricultural world to raise Groks Beasts. I hear they're quite popular now as a primary food source."
"But these are all just speculations. I've long grown accustomed to endless warfare and missions, and you, my child, you are also getting a promotion. This is good; your merits in this war deserve it."
"Just some ordinary achievements, Lord Kyron, and many of them were accomplished jointly by our squad. They shouldn't all be attributed to me."
Kyron shook his head.
"The fact that you think so proves you deserve these merits."
Hektor merely blinked his eyes again. He had been doing this often lately, indicating some unease in his heart.
"I... I'm not actually sure if I can do all of this well. Although there's a voice in my heart encouraging me, I still have some reservations. I mean, Lord Kyron, I know very little about our Legion's history, composition, and structure. When I first plunged into the flames of war in the galaxy, the Legion had already splintered."
Kyron listened intently, quickly understanding what his student was worried about and pondering. The Ancient Warrior first looked out the window: it seemed there was still a short while before the actual outbreak of war.
The Dark Angels' fleet was making its final preparations. He could see Lion El'Jonson's warriors operating some strange warships, which emitted an ethereal blue light, tearing open a rift in the void, seemingly connected to independent spaces. Then, some warships sailed into it and disappeared.
And such rifts were now ubiquitous in the Tacus System.
"It seems we still have some time, my Hektor. I can't answer all your questions, but I can tell you a little about the Legion's organization and factions: it's not complicated at all."
——————
When the Legion was first established, under the Emperor's will, we always looked to the First Legion as our template and goal, actively learning from them. However, we never fully grasped all the essences of the Dark Angels, only roughly mastering a few. This led to the successive birth of different factions.
Whenever a seat was created and formally recognized, it gained a permanent position in the Legion's council, along with a ring symbolizing that recognition, held by an Ancient Warrior from that faction.
In total, after the Death of Sol, and with Marshall's final efforts to unite the Legion failing, the Second Legion splintered. Each faction, with its own fleet, sailed to different corners of the galaxy. If one includes the First Fleet, which represented the "orthodoxy" of the Second Legion, there were a total of six fleets.
Among these, the First Fleet was the absolute core and soul of the Legion. At the time of the Legion's division, there were approximately twelve thousand warriors in total, with sixty percent remaining in the First Fleet.
As the main force of the Legion, the First Fleet had no distinctive features, or rather, this fleet represented all the basic conditions required for war: ordinary infantry to fill the battle lines, armored units, mobile units, extensive aerial fire support, and so on. The First Fleet ensured that the Legion, even without any special means, could still serve the Imperium as a normal, albeit unexceptional, Astartes Legion.
For this very reason, the power represented by the ordinary First Fleet was also the "Chief" of the Second Legion. They might not possess any striking characteristics, but their existence was the Legion's cornerstone. When all other means failed, these most common warriors and the Secret Vault would bear the heavy burden of ending the war and achieving victory.
Hektor's own Second Fleet, the unit that found its greatest pleasure in "technological exploration" and "collection," was the "Second Seat," directly below the First Fleet. The history of this faction was almost as old as the Legion itself, because every Tooth of the Emperor possessed an almost innate spirit of exploration. Thus, for a long time, the "Chief" and "Second Seat" were essentially inseparable.
Before the formal split, these two factions also maintained a high degree of cooperation: the Second Fleet acquired a large number of rare weapons through various means. These doomsday devices became the Legion's trump cards, but most of them were locked away in the Secret Vault managed by the Legion Master Marshall, under the strict supervision of the "Chief."
Next was the Third Fleet, a small-scale elite assembly dedicated to exploring the Sea of Souls and psychic powers. They continuously expanded their understanding of psychic abilities with an approach slightly more aggressive than the White Scars, yet far more cautious than the Thousand Sons.
It is said that the Second Legion's first psyker was even personally trained by the Emperor himself at the end of the Unification Wars. The immense power of psychics quickly elevated this late-emerging faction to the "Third Seat" within the Legion, though their numbers never truly flourished.
Even before these psykers appeared in the Legion, some veterans who were still experiencing the Unification Wars had already realized the benefits of stealth, espionage, and disrupting enemy strongholds in squad operations. They also formed a small collective that operated in the shadows: strictly speaking, this was the first faction in the Second Legion's history. They held the "Fourth Seat," and thus, after the Legion splintered, their fleet became the Legion's Fourth Fleet.
It is said that the Legion's "Fourth Seat" and "Fifth Seat" always maintained cooperation, and the Fourth and Fifth Fleets traveled together. However, after a brief separate operation, the Fifth Fleet suddenly vanished behind an extremely remote star system, where chaotic Warp Storm fluctuations made any search futile. Thus, the "Lost Fifth Fleet" became a mystery alongside the "Unforgiven Fleet."
And the last faction, the Sixth Fleet, hadn't even formally secured a seat. This fleet was quite close to the Ultramarines. They highly appreciated the feeling of establishing well-ordered societies among mortals. Personally, I think they were a bunch of weirdos, and many in the Legion thought the same.
And so it was.
First Fleet: The "Mediocre" majority.
Second Fleet: Technology and relics obtained through exploration.
Third Fleet: Psykers.
Fourth Fleet: Affairs in the shadows.
Fifth Fleet: Lost.
And then there was the not-fully-acknowledged Sixth Fleet, keen on interacting with mortals.
This constituted the Legion's main strength.
Besides these, there were also some smaller factions within the Legion, some of which were quite interesting, but their scale was too small to become mainstream.
——————
"So, Lord Kyron, what about our Second Fleet's ring?"
"The Mithril Ring, forged from various precious metals."
"Mithril?"
"A nearly perfect metal, appearing only in many ancient legends and stories, and also symbolizing that ancient era longed for by those of us who are passionate about archaeology... What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Hektor shook his head.
"I was just thinking... perhaps our Primarch would look beautiful wearing it."
"The word 'beautiful' is rarely used to describe a Primarch."
"Who knows? Perhaps we will have a gene-mother?"
Hektor's soft words successfully made the Ancient Warrior laugh heartily. He laughed for a long time, then suddenly donned a serious expression.
"If it were a gene-mother, a true 'mother'."
"In a sense, for the Legion, that would be a good thing."
Hmm, starting to lay the groundwork for the Legion, preparing for Morgan's return after this battle.
I'm thinking about what style and culture to design the Second Legion with, and also considering its symbol and name. Any suggestions are welcome.
And one more thing... how could Morgan give the Primarch foot-stomped wine to drink? I've already explained to her that it's made from grapes that aren't fully ripe, so it would naturally be sour.
In any case, the few cups the Primarch had were definitely normal wine.
As for Ahriman's cup...
It won't kill him, will it?
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