Inside the circular council hall, the Grand Masters of the various knightly orders, fresh from their victorious Northern Crusade, sat upon tiered stone seats.
Lion stood alone upon the central dais.
Several warriors clad in black power armor surrounded him, while more black-armored giants marched into the chamber with heavy, synchronized footsteps.
"Israfael reporting in, my lord. I have arrived late."
Removing his helmet and tucking it beneath his arm, Israfael knelt on one knee.
He still regretted allowing himself to be deceived by one of his brothers, causing him to miss the opportunity to be among the first to stand before his Primarch.
"Rise, Israfael."
The Primarch's voice was calm rather than loud, yet it carried an authority that seemed innate.
To Israfael, it sounded less like a request and more like an unquestionable command.
He slowly rose to his feet, looking up at the Primarch with unconcealed admiration.
'We finally have a Primarch.'
Even as excitement made his entire body tremble, a trace of worry flashed across his eyes.
Their Legion was the Emperor's personal Legion.
The sword of the Imperium, the First Legion, the original Legion, the vanguard of the Great Crusade, the conquerors of the Unification Wars, the most loyal executors of the Emperor's will.
These were the First Legion's greatest honors.
Those honors were precisely why the Legion far outnumbered every other Legion but despite all that glorious prestige the First Legion also carried a deep humiliation.
Every other Legion had already been reunited with its Primarch. Yet he First Legion, the greatest of them all, had still not welcomed home its gene-father.
The First Legion had always regarded itself as the example all other Legions should follow.
But the one thing they lacked was their Primarch.
Though they never displayed their feelings before outsiders how could they truly be unaffected? The First Legion took great pride in secrecy, few outsiders understood what truly happened within it. As a result, the Legion had gradually split into two clearly defined factions regarding the delayed return of their Primarch.
The various legion faction believed the Legion itself was at fault.
They believed the First Legion had failed to meet the expectations of the Emperor and the Sigillite.
Perhaps the Legion's internal political struggles, perhaps the arrogance and stubbornness of certain warriors had displeased their superiors.
Whatever the reason the responsibility lay with the Legion.
The anti-Primarch Faction, however, insisted the blame rested with the Primarch.
Perhaps, their Primarch simply wasn't equal to the others.
Otherwise, if he were truly as outstanding as the other Primarchs, why hadn't the Imperium brought him home long ago?
Generations of victory and glory had caused many warriors to become excessively arrogant, some no longer even respected the authority of the gene-father they had never met.
They firmly believed the First Legion's greatness had been earned through the blood of its warriors
Not by some unseen father.
From the Unification Wars through the Great Crusade the First Legion had always surpassed every other Legion.
None of those honors had been won because of a Primarch even without one they were still the First Legion.
Many such warriors looked down upon their gene-father not only their own but the other Primarchs as well.
Israfael belonged to the Legion Faction.
Many ordinary Legionaries did as well.
However many senior officers belonged to the anti-Primarch Faction.
They were veterans of the Unification Wars, older, higher-ranking, far more influential, their voices outweighed those of the Legion Faction.
Lion asked, "How many warriors do I command?"
Midris immediately answered, "A task force fleet."
"Five hundred warriors, my lord."
"And one hundred thousand more are fighting throughout the galaxy. At your command, they can all return to Caliban over the course of a year."
Israfael shot him a sideways glance with the Primarch present, he naturally couldn't cause a scene but he silently added another entry to his mental grudge list.
"How many gene-seed stocks do you possess?"
Israfael answered this time, "My lord. The fleet currently possesses twenty thousand gene-seed implants."
"Although the Legion's main strength is scattered across countless battlefronts and cannot assemble immediately we've already used courier vessels to gather every recoverable gene-seed stock from nearby sectors and transport them to the task force."
Their long wait in orbit had not been idle.
The First Legion had made exhaustive preparations for the Primarch's return.
For example after studying the precedents established by the return of other Primarchs they predicted their Primarch would inevitably recruit from his homeworld.
Accordingly, they had assembled an entire gene-seed recovery fleet. Its sole purpose was retrieving gene-seed from battlefields across the galaxy.
They had even submitted requests to Terra's central gene-seed vaults, anticipating that the Primarch might wish to transform Caliban itself
The task force also included a Mechanicum engineering fleet.
Dispatched directly from Mars it carried the finest Tech-Priests from the Forge Worlds.
Along with the most advanced colonial STC systems, gene laboratories, training facilities, armories and starports.
Every piece of infrastructure necessary had already been planned.
They stood ready to transform Caliban from a feudal world into a proper Imperial hive world the moment the Primarch gave the order.
Every conceivable requirement had already been anticipated.
Even generous contingencies had been prepared for unexpected needs.
Lion asked, "When will my father personally arrive upon Caliban?"
His expression revealed nothing.
It almost seemed as though he didn't particularly care.
Midris straightened proudly, "The Emperor is currently leading the First Fleet against xenos forces."
"According to the latest reports the extermination campaign should conclude in approximately three weeks. He will depart for Caliban immediately afterward."
The Primarch proceeded to ask numerous questions regarding both the Legion and the Imperium.
He did so openly in full view of the assembled Calibanite knights without concealing anything.
Even so most of the knights looked utterly confused.
Thanks to Warp's teachings lion already possessed a thorough understanding of the Imperium.
Only minor details required clarification.
Noticing the knights' restrained curiosity
Lion looked toward Luther, "Luther. What do you wish to ask?"
Luther immediately understood, "My King who exactly are they?"
"They are Astartes of the First Legion."
Lion answered calmly, "Just as you are the knights of Caliban who serve me they are the Imperium's knights"
"Who serve my father."
Amadis looked astonished.
"Sir Caelan?"
"My other father. My genetic father."
"The Master of Mankind."
"The Emperor of Terra."
"What is gene-seed?"
Luther already knew much about the Imperium after spending years beside Warp and Lion.
He wasn't asking for himself.
He was asking on behalf of everyone else.
"You may think of gene-seed," Lion explained, "as artificially cultivated reproductive cells created from my genetic material."
"By surgically implanting them they can be transformed into Astartes beings who surpass ordinary humans."
"So these Astartes may also be regarded as my sons."
Amadis stared intensely at the black-armored giants.
"So if we underwent the surgery could we obtain power equal to theirs?"
Lion slowly shook his head.
"The implantation procedure is suitable only for boys."
"The older the subject, the greater the chance of failure."
"So only the apprentices still have a chance?"
"I'm afraid so."
The hope in Amadis' eyes slowly faded into disappointment.
The same change appeared upon the faces of countless other knights.
Every knight dreamed of transcending mortality but even the youngest among them was already over thirty.
Even those usually indifferent to fame and glory could not hide their disappointment.
'Born too soon'
But ow that Lion possessed these extraordinary sons would he still value ordinary mortals like them?
The First Legion contained one hundred thousand superhuman warriors.
All the knights of Caliban together numbered less than that.
The knights quietly lowered their heads. No one saw the bitterness hidden in their hearts.
Only a short while ago they had sworn loyalty to their king.
Now they feared they had already been rendered obsolete.
It had happened too quickly.
Without Great Beasts Knights no longer had a purpose and if the stars had no place for them either
Then what meaning did their existence still hold?
"Look at me"
"Knights of Caliban!"
Lion's powerful voice shattered the oppressive silence.
"I am Lion El'Jonson."
"Son of the Emperor."
"Primarch of the Imperium."
"Master of the First Legion."
"But I have never forgotten that before all else I am the Grand Master of the Order of Knights. The King of Caliban to whom you swore your loyalty."
Drawing the Sword of Kingship, Lion declared, "Loyalty."
"That is both the greatest honor you have bestowed upon me and the name of this sword."
"I swear upon my honor as your King! My promises are not empty words."
"Your loyalty shall receive honor worthy of that loyalty."
"I shall never betray a single loyal follower."
"Today I swear a sacred oath before you all!"
"Even those who can never become Astartes, their legends shall still be sung by mankind!"
"The glory of the knights will never end among the stars!"
"Whether glory or sacrifice awaits us I shall stand beside you."
His words spread among the knights like wildfire even elderly knights with gray hair instinctively straightened their backs.
It felt as though they had once again become the young men who first held a sword.
The Primarch's roar shook the heavens.
"Now answer me!"
"Knights of Caliban who among you will follow me to write new legends among the stars?"
"I WILL!"
A thunderous roar answered him.
Hundreds of gleaming swords left their scabbards simultaneously like a forest of silver.
Lion smiled, "I have witnessed your loyalty."
"Knights of Caliban do not be lost, do not hesitate. For together we shall journey into the galaxy."
Lion turned toward his sons.
"Midris."
"Israfael."
"My lord!"
Both Astartes immediately knelt.
"You are my sons and also my knights."
"I believe your loyalty is no less than that of the Knights of Caliban but my knights know nothing about you and you know equally little about my homeworld."
"Transmit my orders to the orbital fleet. Every Legion warrior is to descend immediately."
"Each knightly order shall establish a consultation station. There you will exchange knowledge. Speak openly and without reservation."
"I do not demand that you become brothers overnight but I refuse to have my warriors distrust one another."
"In the future you will fight side by side. The galaxy holds countless hardships ahead."
"If suspicion exists between you, if resentment remains then the enemy will exploit that weakness."
The Astartes answered in unison. "As you command, my lord."
"Luther."
"Amadis."
"You two will oversee the handover with the Legion."
Lion seemed to be in an extraordinary hurry.
Before anyone could respond he had already turned and strode out of the circular hall.
Midris hesitated.
'Should I assign warriors to protect the Primarch?'
Without direct orders he dared not act on his own.
While he was still wrestling with the decision Israfael had already taken the initiative.
He approached the Calibanite knights with a warm smile.
"Brother Luther."
"I am Israfael."
"If you don't mind"
"You may simply call me Brother Israfael."
Luther smiled, "Brother Israfael."
"Thank you for respecting Caliban's traditions."
Israfael chuckled, "Calling one another 'brother' isn't merely Caliban's custom."
"Astartes address one another the same way."
"To find such remarkable similarities across tens of thousands of light-years"
"Perhaps it's a tradition inherited from Ancient Terra itself. I have a feeling we're going to have much in common."
"I believe so as well."
The two conversed happily.
The atmosphere quickly became warm and friendly.
Watching them hit it off so effortlessly Midris felt utterly miserable.
'Israfael has no sense of fair play!'
'I'm the commander!'
'How could he jump in before me?'
'That's no different from launching a boarding assault without bringing me along!'
The Primarch hurried through the streets.
The moment he pushed open the courtyard gate
Several young boys were sweeping fallen leaves from the yard.
Lion stood silently.
His face remained serious as he looked over every familiar tree and blade of grass.
Baldur lowered his head respectfully.
"Sir Lion."
Lion asked quietly,
"Baldur."
"Where is Father?"
"I've been here all along."
Warp's relaxed voice suddenly came from behind him.
There was even a trace of teasing amusement.
"What?"
"Can't bear to leave me?"
Lion fell silent for a moment.
Then
He nodded solemnly.
"Yes."
They had lived together day and night for ten years.
Officially
They were foster father and adopted son.
In reality
They were closer than many blood-related fathers and sons.
There were still far too many things left unsaid.
Ten years
Had been far too short.
For the first time
Lion found himself regretting how quickly he had exterminated the Great Beasts.
Why couldn't I have waited another ten years?
Or twenty?
Of course
The thought remained only that.
He could never truly delay.
He was a Primarch.
His destiny could never allow him to remain forever upon Caliban.
His father's love should become the strength that pushed him forward.
Not chains that bound him in place.
"You've grown up."
Warp smiled.
"I can't stay beside you forever."
Lion looked back at him.
"Why not?"
"Does growing up mean a child can no longer have a father?"
Warp gazed gently at the Primarch.
He raised a hand, intending to pat Lion's arm.
Instead
The Primarch immediately knelt on one knee.
Lowering his shoulder so Warp could comfortably reach him.
Warp had no choice but to raise his arm even higher before patting the massive shoulder plate.
"I'm not really leaving."
"This parting is simply so that we'll have an even better reunion later."
"I have a feeling"
"Horus will be the next one."
"When all your brothers have returned"
"We'll meet again on Terra."
Lion remained silent.
"Father"
"When will you leave?"
"I don't know."
"But perhaps"
"I'll stay until Neoth arrives."
Lion frowned deeply.
"Why wait for him?"
"Lion."
"He's your father."
"You're the one who raised me."
Lion possessed no memories whatsoever of his biological father.
It had been Warp who found him in the forests of Caliban.
Warp who taught him what it meant to be human.
What civilization was.
Who had guided him, step by step
Until he became a king.
Yet now
As the time for parting drew near
The person his foster father most wanted to meet
Was the biological father Lion had never even known.