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Cullen had drifted off. Kaelen couldn't sleep, so he turned and looked at Horus.
Bored. Needed sothing to talk about.
Cullen was a son of the Lion, which naturally made Kaelen think of the Lion himself, Lion El'Jonson, that ancient, decrepit old man.
"Horus, what kind of person was Lion El'Jonson, in your mory?"
"Lion was a perfect warrior. An impeccable Legion commander. But not a perfect brother." Horus's voice was asured, reflective. "His heart held only the hunt and the Emperor's orders. He never left any room for family. We are the Emperor's sons — but he only ever wanted to be the Emperor's weapon."
Horus sighed, old mories surfacing.
"The First Legion also issued more Exterminatus orders than any other."
"My other two brothers — Curze killed to make people fear him. Angron killed to quiet his own pain. But Lion killed simply because it was the fastest, most thorough way to complete the mission. He wouldn't spill a single extra drop of blood for the pleasure of it. He wouldn't spare a single life out of so-called rcy. That is the most terrifying kind of warrior. And no one would ever know what he'd done."
"Well, that's just being dead, isn't it," Kaelen said. "Dead n tell no tales."
"Who told him to be the Emperor's sharpest blade, the hidden edge in the dark? Oh, and let's not forget the black-gloved Wolf King, Leman Russ."
Horus didn't get angry. A low chuckle rolled from his throat instead.
"Indeed. Among all the primarchs, only Jonson truly grasped the underlying logic of war. War was never about so damned honor or pageantry. War is only about winning."
His gaze sharpened, and he gave an uncharacteristically high appraisal.
"He would stop at nothing to win. I'll be honest with you, Kaelen, if there was ever anyone who could push to the absolute brink in tactical simulation and open battle, maybe even beat ... it could only be Lion."
The conversation had found its groove. Then Horus shifted, those intensely oppressive eyes swinging toward Kaelen, the corner of his mouth curling into sothing playful.
"Kaelen, if you'd lived during the Great Crusade, and happened to be lucky enough to survive the trials and beco an Astartes, which Legion would you join?"
"My Luna Wolves? Or Lion's Dark Angels, to beco a remorseless knight? Or perhaps under my most perfect brother Sanguinius, as an elegant Blood Angel?" Horus tilted his head. "Co to my Luna Wolves. I might even make you my equerry."
Equerry. Right.
Horus's last equerry had been Maloghurst. Maloghurst, whose seventh-day death morial had long since passed its fifth anniversary. During the great rebellion, the Warmaster, mind half-gone, kept mistaking Agnes for Maloghurst. And for Sejanus, who had been dead even longer.
Hard pass.
Kaelen answered without hesitation.
"I'd go to Jaghatai Khan's White Scars and race bikes. Or Corvus Corax's Raven Guard after his return, keep a low profile, stay out of trouble." He rubbed his chin, completely serious. "And if I wanted real stability? Coast through service, collect a pension? Roboute Guilliman's Ultramarines, no contest."
"..."
The smile on Horus's face went rigid.
"My friend, that answer genuinely wounds ." He spread his hands, the picture of aggrieved dignity. "Given our friendship, I thought you'd at least show so bias toward my Legion. Even just a little polite courtesy?"
Kaelen laughed out loud.
Horus fired back.
"And you, Kaelen? In your eyes — what kind of man is my brother Lion?"
"? I'd say the Lion is a classical knight."
mories from the lore surfaced. Kaelen rembered how Sons of the Forest and Angels of Caliban had both painted Lion in that knightly mold.
His favorite was still the returned Lion King from Sons of the Forest. That old knight was devastatingly cool. 10,000 years of sleep, and when he woke up, all the impatience and coldness of his youth had burned away. What remained was sothing distilled, every quality a classical knight should possess: courage, temperance, wisdom, justice.
"Horus, take a guess." Kaelen let the hook dangle. "After ten thousand years, do you think Lion's temper might have gotten better?"
That successfully snagged the Wolf Shepherd's curiosity.
He genuinely couldn't connect the words "temper improved" with his cold, rciless brother. The mory was still vivid: Lion crashing the celebration with Luther, storming in stone-faced, dragging Luther away, killing the mood entirely.
"I'd sooner believe his loyalty never fades," Horus said, a soft scoff escaping him, "than believe his temper could improve even a fraction."
That scoff, quiet as it was, seed to reach the corner of the room.
Cullen's servo-motors let out a faint whirr. He jolted awake from his shallow sleep and shook his groggy head.
Under the bewildered stares of both Horus and Kaelen, he crossed the shelter and stopped in front of Horus.
Then,
THUD.
One knee hit the ground. Head bowed deep. A posture of complete, unreserved fealty.
Kaelen:?
Horus:?
The air in the shelter went absolutely still.
Bro.
Weren't you drawing blades and screaming "great traitor" at the top of your lungs before you fell asleep?! One nap and you're pledging loyalty?!
Kaelen was screaming on the inside.
He couldn't begin to follow this old knight's cliff-dive of a thought process, but his brain turned once, and the answer clicked.
There was only one thing in the entire galaxy that could make a diehard First Legion old-tir flip this completely.
The Corpse-Emperor had sent him a dream.
Horus opened his mouth to ask sothing. Cullen beat him to it.
Though if you listened closely, you could still hear the reluctance in how tightly he was grinding his back teeth.
"Until my father Lion returns, I shall pledge my fealty to you, Lord of the Luna Wolves. I will use my life to ensure your safety."
"May I know why, warrior?" Horus asked, voice low.
"Secret."
Cullen didn't even lift his eyes. He said it flat and calm, one word.
There it is. The Dark Angels' signature move. The secrets of the First Legion!
Oh wait, the First Legion has no secrets. The honor of the Inner Circle must be defended!
Kaelen was practically dying inside, the material so rich he didn't even know where to start.
Before he could finish cataloguing it all, Cullen's cold gaze swung onto him. Pure vigilance. Pure suspicion.
"I'll be watching you too, mortal."
Kaelen pointed at his own nose, genuinely baffled.
"? What could I possibly do? I'm loyal! Don't go slandering an innocent man's good na for no reason, alright?"
"Hmph."
The veteran gave a single cold snort and said nothing more.
➤ Next: Ogryn Plus One
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