Chapter 59 Forged on the Anvil
Nocturne lay upon the edge of the Eastern Fringe — a world shaped by fire, gravity, and catastrophe.
Its massive moon, Prometheus, orbited in an unstable path. Its gravitational strain churned the planet's mantle, triggering relentless volcanic eruptions and tectonic upheaval. Coupled with harsh stellar radiation and toxic ash storms, the environment tempered all life into endurance or extinction.
The humans of Nocturne were survivors forged in flame.
Their obsidian-dark skin and ember-bright eyes were not signs of corruption, but of adaptation — a physiological resilience shaped by radiation, heat, and generations of hardship.
They endured.
They endured everything.
The Child of Fire
The Primarch's capsule fell into the ash wastes and was discovered by a blacksmith named N'bel.
He took the child in and raised him as his own.
He named him Vulkan, after the Dragon Lords of Nocturne's ancient legends.
Within only a few years, the child grew into a towering youth.
His strength was immense.
His mind was keen.
His compassion was unmistakable.
By the age of three, he assisted in the forge.
By four, his craftsmanship surpassed the greatest smiths of the settlements.
Yet Vulkan's greatness was never measured by skill alone.
It was measured by whom he protected.
The Raids
For generations, raiders descended from the void.
They came in silence.
They departed in screams.
The Drukhari harvested humans like livestock — captives destined for torment and eternal suffering in the dark between stars.
The people of Nocturne had learned to hide.
To endure.
To mourn.
Vulkan refused.
When the raiders returned, they did not find cowering villagers.
They found a giant standing in the ash.
Two forge-hammers rested in his hands.
He did not move.
He did not speak.
He waited.
The raiders laughed.
To them he was another primitive creature — a beast to be broken and taken.
They advanced.
They never reached him.
Vulkan moved like a falling meteor.
Hammer struck flesh and wraithbone.
Helmets shattered.
Spines collapsed.
Bodies broke like unfired clay.
To their horror, the giant did not fall.
He advanced.
Relentless.
Unstoppable.
Seeing this, the hidden villagers emerged.
They seized tools, blades, and scavenged weapons.
That day, they did not hide.
They fought.
And for the first time in living memory, raiders died upon Nocturne's soil.
More than a hundred xenos fell beneath Vulkan's hand.
A Hero Who Refused Glory
The settlement elders came to see him.
They expected a warlord.
A conqueror.
A king.
Vulkan smiled shyly.
"I am only four years old," he said. "You should speak with my father."
He gently pushed N'bel forward.
The elders stood in stunned silence.
The victory was marked by a great feast.
For the first time in generations, the people of Nocturne celebrated without fear.
Until the strangers arrived.
The Strangers
"I am strong," said the cloaked figure calmly.
"Stronger than all of you."
Before the villagers could react—
"Did you hear that?" Yuki announced loudly. "My father says you are all weak and he could defeat you with one finger—"
Mordecai Threxion lunged forward and covered her mouth.
"Sister. Stop."
The surrounding villagers were seconds from violence.
The Emperor remained unmoved.
He suspected Yuki still harbored irritation toward him. Why, he did not know — and it scarcely mattered. These people posed no threat.
He allowed her theatrics.
After hearing of Nocturne's defender, the Emperor had little doubt.
This was his son.
He summoned Yuki to accompany him.
Mordecai Threxion came as well — officially to observe, unofficially because Yuki refused to leave him behind.
The Emperor did not comment.
Vulkan stepped forward, raising a hand to calm his people.
"Be at ease," he said gently.
"These travelers mean no harm."
"You are Vulkan?" the Emperor asked.
"I am."
"Then let us test strength," the Emperor replied.
"If I prevail, you will hear me. If you prevail, I will depart."
Vulkan did not seek contest.
But he sensed sincerity.
He agreed.
The Trial
Their contest endured eight days.
They lifted anvils heavier than siege engines.
They crossed fields of razor obsidian.
They endured volcanic heat that would have slain ordinary men.
Neither yielded.
Mordecai Threxion watched in awe.
For a moment, he wondered if the Emperor truly matched this brother.
Then he noticed Yuki observing with narrowed eyes.
Understanding followed.
"Sister… wouldn't it be simpler if Father just won?"
"What Father seeks," she replied, "is loyalty freely given."
"Then why are you glaring at him?"
"Because you are about to witness the most shameless entrapment in the galaxy."
The Final Trial
The last test:
Forge a weapon.
Then slay a fire drake.
The greatest kill would determine victory.
Vulkan forged a colossal hammer of blackened steel.
The Emperor forged a blade that shimmered with restrained power.
They departed separately.
Vulkan slew a massive drake.
But as he descended the volcanic slope, the ground erupted beneath him.
Lava surged.
Stone fractured.
He slipped, clinging to a sheer rock face with one hand while gripping the carcass with the other.
Hours passed.
Heat became agony.
Even his strength began to fail.
Then the stranger appeared.
He carried a drake larger than Vulkan's.
Without hesitation, he hurled the carcass into the lava, forming a bridge of cooling flesh and bone.
He crossed.
He hauled Vulkan to safety.
He abandoned his own trophy.
They returned together.
The villagers cheered Vulkan's victory.
But Vulkan knelt before the stranger.
"A true champion," he said, "places life above triumph."
He swore loyalty.
Revelation
The Emperor revealed himself.
Golden radiance blazed like a second sun.
The people fell to their knees.
Mordecai Threxion removed his disguise and stepped forward.
"I am Mordecai Threxion. It is an honor, brother."
Vulkan smiled warmly and clasped his hand.
"And mine."
Refusal
Later, Vulkan hesitated.
"Father… may I refuse?"
Silence fell.
Mordecai Threxion raised an eyebrow.
The Emperor did not speak.
Only Yuki appeared unsurprised.
Vulkan chose his words carefully.
"My heart longs for peace. I would inherit my father's forge. I do not desire conquest."
Then he added quickly:
"If my skills are needed, I will serve."
The Emperor's expression remained stern.
Within, he felt profound satisfaction.
This was not a conqueror.
This was a guardian.
"Why refuse?" the Emperor asked.
"I am no general," Vulkan replied.
"My brothers are better suited. The Imperium requires protectors as much as conquerors."
The Emperor answered with a single word:
"Humanity."
Yuki took Vulkan's hand.
"Your duty is not conquest," she said softly.
"It is salvation. Will you help free those still trapped in darkness?"
Vulkan's grip tightened.
"…Yes."
"I will join the Great Crusade."
Mordecai Threxion exhaled slowly.
Another brother had returned.
Horus's warmth.
Russ's ferocity.
Ferrus's iron resolve.
Fulgrim's refinement.
And now Vulkan's compassion.
He allowed himself a small, fragile hope.
They were good men.
Surely the brothers yet to be found would be the same.
…wouldn't they?
Visit patreon.com/ShiroTL for more chapters.