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"Stubborn tsundere. Say it or don't."
Kellen rolled his eyes and made a show of digging at his ear with exaggerated indifference.
That only made Cullen more fixated on the question of who this man actually was. A mortal who could treat an Astartes with open contempt, who could joke and laugh with a Primarch like they were old friends, that didn't happen. Not unless the man was sothing more than he appeared.
Even during the Great Crusade, only officials under the Sigillite of Terra had possessed that kind of nerve around an Astartes. Around a Primarch, no one had it at all.
"Please trust him, Cullen. If not for Kellen, I might well have died under the Nesis Blade."
Horus rose to his feet. The smile on his face was warm, but the warning underneath it was unmistakable.
"Necessary vigilance and skepticism are permitted, of course. But they must not undermine this group. Right now, in the eyes of the Imperium and your Dark Angels, we are hardly the good guys."
"Only through sincere unity can we better serve the Imperium and the Emperor. Isn't that so?"
It had to be said, the uncorrupted Horus was a social genius of the highest order. His vision, his rhetoric, his sheer personal gravity, all of it dialed to maximum. Combined with the weight of who he simply was...
Cullen swallowed the simring anger in his gut and said nothing. He had sworn fealty to the Master of the Luna Wolves. That ant following protocol.
And besides, the Emperor himself had placed a personal order in his dreams, commanding him to bring Kellen before the Golden Throne.
No matter how much the kid irritated him, this bodyguard assignnt was his to carry.
"I will protect your safety as well, mortal."
Cullen added it with a cold hmph.
Kellen burst out laughing. Every last trace of his earlier poor impression of the old veteran vanished on the spot.
He stood, turned, and strode into a blind spot in the ruins, a dead corner completely shielded from view by a lead wall. Neither Horus nor Cullen moved to follow or investigate. A minute passed. Then ca the heavy screech of grinding tal, and Kellen physically hauled a massive iron crate out of the shadows.
He patted the lid, then pointed at the battered wreck of power armor on Cullen's fra.
"If you're going to be a bodyguard, that heap of scrap won't cut it. Get yourself so proper gear, Knight of the First Legion."
Cullen stepped forward, suspicion written across every line of his posture.
The hydraulic locks released with a sharp HISS of venting pressure. The crate opened slowly.
When he saw what was inside, Cullen wasn't the only one who lost his composure. Even Horus, standing to the side, went still.
A brand-new suit of MK IV Maximus pattern power armor. Streamlined black ceramite that glead with a cold, clean luster. And beside it, thoughtfully included, a heavy bolter and a master-crafted power sword.
This was what Kellen had just pulled from his system reward, using the blind spot to cover the transaction. He was a mortal, he couldn't wear the iron shell himself. Might as well put it on soone who could actually use it.
"Where did this co from?"
Cullen's frown deepened. He turned toward Kellen.
"In any Chapter operating today, this would be considered an ancient relic. Even among the Founding Chapters, a mark of armor like this is exceedingly rare." He paused. "A scavenger from the underhive of Rys has the ability to find a brand-new suit?"
Kellen spread his hands.
"What's the point of obsessing over origins, my lord knight? All you need to know is that wearing it ans you can kill for the Emperor more effectively. In this universe, plenty of things have unclean histories."
"There are Chapters — and even elents of the Inquisition — that wield weapons tied to Chaos and xenos. Are you going to interrogate every single one of them? A weapon is a weapon. Don't scare yourself. If you're genuinely afraid to use sothing just because its origins are unclear..."
Kellen let the pause stretch.
"Then you are doubting the Emperor. Which ans your loyalty to the Emperor is already wavering."
When faced with doubt and questioning, the simplest and most brutal thod was to slap a label on it.
Ten thousand years later, and the tactic of escalating rhetoric still worked like a charm. Cullen's expression soured. He asked no further questions and let out another cold hmph.
He knew Kellen was right. And besides, the Dark Angels had possessed secret weapons during the Great Crusade that no other Legion had ever held. If anyone tried to trace those origins, even the Emperor would probably choose to cough politely and change the subject.
He shed the old armor and put on the new.
The vagabond quality that had clung to Cullen simply vanished. In its place stood sothing older, sothing that belonged to ten thousand years ago, the bearing of a Dark Angels knight, exactly as it was ant to look.
"Cullen." Kellen's voice cut through while the warrior was still examining the fit of his new plate. "Do you have a way off Rys?"
"There is a way. Where we'd end up after leaving, I can't say."
"You want to leave?"
"Yes."
Kellen nodded. "Horus and I intend to go to Cadia. A war will break out there soon, and soone capable of saving Roboute Guilliman will appear on that world. We plan to hitch a ride with that person to Macragge, so the awakened Master of Ultramar can vouch for Horus and provide him backing."
Cullen considered this. He glanced at the giant standing beside them.
"Then you'll need to apply to join the Astra Militarum. I've heard Rys is about to submit its tithe — conscription officers and transport ships will arrive soon." He paused. "Lord Hor, Lupercal... with a physique that size, I'm afraid he won't be able to board a standard transport."
"Oh, no need to worry about that."
Kellen grinned and slapped the Wolf Shepherd's thigh.
"I've applied for Ogryn identity papers for him."
The mont the word left his mouth, a flicker of displeasure crossed Horus's face.
It made him seem like he really was so dim-witted Ogryn.
In truth, by the later stages of the original Heresy, the Warmaster's behavior had been indistinguishable from a patient in the final stages of dentia. Russ, that wolf of a doctor, had only made things worse with the Spear of Russ.
"Ogryn..."
Beneath his helt, the corner of Cullen's mouth twitched. He wanted to laugh. But laughing in the presence of a Primarch, even a forr Arch-Traitor, was not a show of respect he could afford.
No. The Emperor in his dream had already told him: this was not the Arch-Traitor from all of their mories. This was Lupercal. The Wolf Shepherd.
"In that case, should I also apply for Ogryn papers?"
Kellen rubbed his chin. "To board a transport to Cadia without complications, yes, we'll need you to play Ogryn for a stretch too. The Astra Militarum keeps its guard lowest around these simple-minded abhumans."
"During the Great Crusade, a considerable portion of the mortal auxiliary forces were composed of Ogryns," Horus added from the side. "High-ranking officers and common soldiers alike, everyone trusted them. Low intelligence, absolute loyalty, and very high combat capability."
"Kellen, this arrangent makes you our master in the eyes of any conscription officer. Obedient, loyal, powerful Ogryns won't be scrutinized. They'll wave you through without a second look, afraid you might walk over to a competing conscription point instead."
To beco the master of a Primarch. Interesting.
But Kellen just laughed.
"Why does that sound so wrong coming out of your mouth, my Wolf God?"
"Desperate tis, desperate asures." Horus had clearly made his peace with it. His eyes held a frank, settled calm. "Right now I am no lord of a Legion, and no Warmaster of the Imperium. I am a wanderer seeking atonent. I have to set aside the glories and the pride."
Those words stirred sothing complicated in the depths of Cullen's chest, respect and pity, wound together in a way he couldn't quite separate.
"I am a Primarch," Horus continued, "but among all my brothers, I was always the one closest to mortal n. A change like this, I can accept it."
"You can accept it," Kellen shot back, "but I can't afford to receive it. If your Legion sons ever saw this scene, they'd tear apart with their bare hands."
He let a beat pass.
"Provided, of course, that they're still alive."
➤ Next: Enlisting at the Recruitnt Station
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