Don’t read just adding stories I can read on audio

Living in New Zealand, earthquakes are a reality, especially in the most active regions of the country. Then, stumbling as best I could towards the nearest door during this ridiculous tremor, two separate thoughts assailed me at almost the same time. The first is ' Jesus Christ this is the big one they always talked about and we never upgraded the survival container oh god oh god' and the second is ' This tremor is not fit for an earthquake, it's more like a strong wind than anything else . '

Stumbling forward, a cup of tea, still miraculously intact, in one hand and a freshly lit cigarette in the other, I barely swing inside the sitting room door before the shaking begins to subside, the frame of raw wood in my apartment starts to stop. . work. shivering into a less wobbly posture, only coming to a complete stop as I swing toward the door, elbows out, hands still stupidly laced around the two key components of my usual morning ritual as the chill subsides.

I shake my head to try to focus a bit, looking around, checking to see if anything has fallen, with only the few papers on the living room table in disarray before I put my cigarette between my lips and open the door. House. without worrying about anything. my current state of dress in an attempt to get out and see how everyone else reacted to the earthquake, a mixture of the usual half-baked Christian morality and worried curiosity swelling in my chest.

And outside is a spaceship.

A duller part of my brain can only point to the vague similarities between said spaceship and my own personal hobbies, but the moment any thoughts that had gathered at the front of my mind vanished into a sea of sheer confusion and a bit of nonsense. in sight before me. Fat and bulky, the ship looked more brick than streamlined, complete with huge stubby wings folded and grooved with a series of golden lines to emulate the wings of an eagle. A multitude of weapons in a variety of shapes and forms bristled everywhere, many like oversized gun barrels, while others were more quirky, forming around what I can only guess where retro sci-fi inspired lasers.

Presumably what had caused the earlier tremor were the huge glowing engines, their faint glow causing a distinct haze to appear over the rear of the ship, those elongated barrels that made a giant cube of a ship fly up a now short ramp . . , by which several strangely dressed soldiers descended. Well, I assumed they were soldiers anyway, my brain silently absorbing the details and shaking them into place even as my mind wrestled with the implications of such a vehicle landing in the middle of my street.

In such a state, one would think basic reasoning would prevail, but they didn't look like any soldiers I've ever seen. His attire was more akin to that of a deep-sea diver than anything 'soldier', a rich navy blue color that a part of me, a childhood cadet, approved of for dyeing his leather underwear, while a series of Donning's thick bronze- colored plates instead of regular armor, the assorted soldiers lined up outside the spaceship and stood in perfect parade ground stance, not a foot out of line as they stood their ground along the steep path. and tilted. at an angle. After that view, the next one was just a huge shock.

The size of the man before him was, to put it bluntly, ridiculous. He was a meter above me, and he was so armored with gold plating that the reflection of the morning sun almost made him shimmer with power. Each individual piece was handcrafted, judging by the meticulous quality, and all were covered in a variety of sigils and decorations, ranging from gaping eagles in flight to grimacing human faces. His legs were already thicker than my torso, and as my eyes roamed over his chest, there was no difference, his entire body was big enough to fit a few dozen of me in that suit and still had headroom. surplus. His face thought of him, his face was possibly the scariest thing of all to me.

His features were, bluntly, beautiful. I heard that some people find revelations when they look at some famous piece of art and suddenly realize themselves and their place in the universe, but his face was completely different. It was as if someone had taken flesh and carved it into the literally perfect being, skipping all that uncanny valley bullshit and coming straight to absolute perfection, her flawless, sun-kissed skin, ebony hair blowing in a gentle breeze. . and nonexistent.

And to top it off, the look of intense and utter disappointment on his face.

Now, I have seen the disappointment of friends, family and relatives of space. I've seen how they look, how their skin wrinkles and their eyebrows furrow, how their lips twist and their muscles tense.

But this? This was something more like a deep and crushing disappointment. As if someone had told him a horrible, unchanging fact of life to his face, as if he were a child and someone had told him that everything he loved was useless and false. To put it bluntly, it looked like someone had pooped in his cereal that morning.

Before I could muster any kind of statement, some kind of response to this whole event, he spoke first.

"Hello son".

And it turns out you can sound pretty disappointed too.

Standing in front of a literal astronaut claiming to be my father, outside my shitty little apartment, early in the morning, all of this barely crossed my mind, though it barely occurred to me. So, I reacted as naturally as I could.

"Hello."

Even as he spoke to me he seemed weak and disappointing, especially compared to Him. As if someone had played the greatest musical number ever invented, and then, during the quiet pause between the final moments of completion and thunderous applause, a strange fart had screeched. On the way.

"Would you like to...huh?" The distinctive nervousness was clear in my voice, drawing out the 'uh' much longer than it should have, before I managed to force my brain back to normal. "Ahead?"

He blinked once, before nodding.

Turning around, I robotically walked down the hall and into the kitchen, got another cup of tea and put it on the counter, poured the milk, mixed the sugar, went through the motions. Her voice was undeniable, and any denial I tried to make died not only on my lips but also in my mind, the very idea of claiming that something else had entered. He was my Father, and that was just that.

The kettle boiled and I could hear her heavy footsteps in my living room. How he got in was something I really couldn't conceive of, and the laughable thought of him trying to sneak in the door forced a choking sob from me. My mind followed his lead, "Why am I terrified?" , "Why is my mind reacting like this?", and so on, something deeply unsettling about the very person of him altering my mind at the thought of him.

The kettle clicked, the little electronic device was finally ready and I poured the boiling water into the cup before taking it into the living room to watch standing in the middle of the room. If it was anything else, I would have thought he was nervous, but my mind could only give me confidence in his being.

me.

My whole body practically shuddered at the sight of it, my mind was still lost in the absurd nature of what was happening and here I was offering a cup of tea to the real gold clad titan standing in the middle of my house. I swallowed, spit, and bile slipped down my throat as I tried to exert some control over myself, before taking a long drag on the flickering end of my cigarette, letting the flavor of the nicotine add a sort of smoky appearance. smoked normal to my life.

I'm sure it's big and golden. Sure it's huge and scary, but this is my house, dammit!

I grit my teeth and finally open my mouth, keeping at least some kind of control over the words that threaten to spill out, ashy gray smoke wafting through the air.

"So, are you my dad?"

"Yes."

"So that spaceship is yours?"

"Yes."

"Cleaned".

I could almost slap myself for those last words, even as they desperately spoke of holding them back.

His response was less of a smile and more of a slight relaxation of his tight smile. God, even the cup is too small for him, it barely fits between his fingers.

"You shouldn't exist."

"Que."

"You shouldn't be here."

The confusion that had given way to the smallest sparks of annoyance in my mind.

"Excuse me?"

"You were a wish, an accident of nature came to be."

I can't stop this time.

"No, my parents made airplanes for me."

Oh damn it, damn it

And that got the ball rolling. A jumble of thoughtless words and messages slipped past my lips, all pointless comments and questions, insults and compliments, a horrible mix that I knew would not end well.

"It's not like it was an accident, they made me planes and everything. I went to the hospital in England, went through the usual planning and all that nonsense, got me out after a few months, and here we are. Granted." I'm not my brother, but still, I think they like me, all things considered." And now I'm stammering, each word colliding with the next. "Of course, we moved here later, but I prefer it to England, with better weather except for the wind and rain, but the vegetation is nice at times. When it's not burning up the spaceships, well, I think it's burning up. And trampled, definitely trampled, with all the space soldiers outside standing on it. Not that I care, but it's in the lease, so I'd rather they didn't and all that, you know?

Before he can continue, his presence seems to increase, the air heavier. She does a bit to stop my mouth, but he forces her to stop, falling into an extremely awkward silence.

"You are my Son, but you were never meant to be. A discarded sequence of genes and tissues that somehow came into existence."

Yes.

"Come on, this discussion is meaningless as it stands now. You are confused and lost, but in time, you will learn what your brothers know."

And then he turns and walks away through the living room and out the front door, leaving me with a single boring thought. How the hell did they get out without destroying the door frame?

~~~~~~

And then I put on some clothes, awkwardly walked out, and spent the next hour feeling extremely uncomfortable as I sat across from my new dad.

Yes.

It was as awkward as you think it is.

Now imagine how bad it was to meet my two brothers.

N/A

I'll just copy until the last chapter and then I'll start making chapters with my own ideas

Next chapter

Honestly, I'm kind of glad that dad, dearest of the Great Golden Nips, has decided to drag me (figuratively) aboard his shuttle, send me into space, and spend an hour keeping me from looking in my general direction.

It gave me time to look up some stuff, get my head in the game, all that scum, you know?

If we had spent the morning sitting around drinking tea and listening to Dad lyrically say how terrible it was compared to Horus and Leman, it probably would have been worse than it was. I'm not saying everything hasn't gone to shit, but I settle for a vague embarrassment under the cloak of annoyance and a little anger instead of listening to Dad talk and talk about this and that. Yeah, he's the Emperor and all, but I can honestly say that as someone who's 'inside' his personal circle (which isn't exactly true. He's more like a leech that doesn't bother to remove more than anything else ), can be a bit boring at times.

All the dramatic speeches and super creepy event statements that we, your totally ungodly +1 children, are not meant to understand. Well, Horus probably gets it, but he's a good guy all things considered. And the pensive. Repeatedly.

How do you react when you find yourself immersed in what effectively amounts to a fictional situation, with only half the knowledge and half the blueprints to not screw things up? I'll tell you how one will react. they fuck tremendously .

But that wonderful cavalcade of horrible embarrassments comes, not much later, but much more damning. For now, there was just me, the utterly godless Great Bulb of power that was my God-dad, half a dozen space soldiers drenched in so much awkward embarrassment I could feel the mix of confusion and embarrassment secondhand. seeping through all his shiny gear. Looking back, of all those trapped in that overly ornate brick of a shuttle, it was probably the boys and girls of Solar Auxilia who probably felt worse than all of us there.

I mean, imagine being a soldier in that situation. You have been asked to go on a mission alongside his most glorious majesty, the Emperor of Mankind, to go in search of one of his own flesh and blood children from what you can only assume is a relatively peaceful and civilized world, completely ready. to join the Empire and join the Great Crusade to reunite humanity across the stars. You suit up, all sealed to the suit, boots polished, plates gleaming to perfection, ready to go and choose another of the praised sons of the Emperor himself. You sit through the furious tirades of your assortment of non-commissioned officers if any of you dare have an idea to fuck this up, ready your weaponry, not that I think it would help against a Primarch., and get ready to enjoy the free drinks once you complete the quest, knowing you were there when the Emperor met his Third Lost Son.

You settle down on some low level planet, everything in perfect coordination, not a hair out of place or anything, the rest of your own friends will criticize you for ruining everything for them and their potential. Free alcohol stories among the Auxilia. no byzantine maze of centuries old tunnels to panic await your arrival, no hideous ice monsters or raging savages await your arrival, not even any real opposition, just you looking good and ready for me, the new Emperor's Child. And then he turns out to be a half-dressed muppet who never got anywhere on his home world.

Free booze story, it's not.

Also, just a helpful tip for those reading this, if you ever have a personal meeting with the Emperor any time soon, which I highly doubt, don't call him God-Dad to his face. I'm pretty sure if he wasn't a weak flesh little man, he would have gone completely fatherly 'kid on his knees, father to son talk' about the whole situation.

There is a joke. Dad fathering his children instead of fooling whoever he was lucky enough to pick us up when we supposedly landed on our respective home planets. say oh

But hey, he's never going to do that for a millennium or two, and it just keeps vaguely teasing him or causing him to do that little bite to the mouth that he does, I'm still not sure which one, so why not call it that? It's more fun this way.

Anyway, I feel like the whole 'train of thought' to record all of this is more effective than wasting space on my computer typing this. A computer is a cogitator, for those of you who are not from Earth and are reading this, although I feel that those of you who are not from Earth are already pretty well informed on the subject as it is.

~~~~~~​

The shuttle itself is surprisingly light, for what I expected from the Empire. Yes, he expected, the full shock of supposedly being one of the lost Primarchs of the God-Emperor of Mankind who were erased from all Imperial records and forbidden to be mentioned by anyone in the highest echelons of Imperial government. Over the next ten millennia after the fact, there were dozens of fan theories, ranging from traitors, heretics, or even women, all discussed more wildly and feverishly than the last.

Yes, he knew that, objectively, this was the Empire.

He objectively knew this was the Empire during the Great Crusade, during which the God-Emperor of Mankind led a massive campaign alongside his sons to find, gather, and conquer all the human planets they could find, gathering the many different ones. premiums around the world. road.

I knew objectively that this was all going to end in tears and daddy problems.

Sitting in that shuttle, his feet barely grazing the ground as he overcame the laws of physics on his way up to try to keep him from flying, butt balanced on a surprisingly comfortable red leather chair bolted to the ground, he knew it all. immediately . I respect . is. The Solar Helpers were all huddled in the back, each completely concealed in their tight uniform, legs locked in place, rifles at their sides, dull red visors leering accusingly at me. Swallowing hard, I continued to check my own inner guidance as to what was happening, faint layers of shock mercifully giving way to personal silence as I digested it all.

Big Daddy was sitting near the front of the shuttle, his huge golden legs spread apart and his arms crossed over his barrel-shaped chest, the perfect face staring at the immaculately detailed shuttle wall in front of him with an astonishing gaze. . tan annoyed or disgust already, but rather resignation. I could only venture to guess his own thoughts on the subject at hand, but I guess finding out that his so-called little god who was itching to claim as a five-year-old to have his own puppy on Christmas morning was in - Indeed, and to pass an analogy here, more like some shitty robotic jumping dog that people used to sell in the 2000s, which was really understandable.

I'd sympathize, but right now honestly I'm more concerned with the fact that the Empire is real, the God-Emperor of humanity is real, and by process of elimination, the entirety of 40k was real. Which isn't exactly doing my thought process any good.

Does this mean that 40k was always real?

Or has he come back in time to find me? 

Perhaps Earth is an old colony project from the Middle Ages?

Whatever thoughts you had on the subject, I desperately tried to push myself away to a corner of my mind to focus on the big picture. Which revolved around the fact that, at some point, Horus was going to go mad, Lorgar was going to be an idiot, the rest of the Primarchs were also going to be idiots one way or another, and he was drawing me to him. middle of this. The only problem was real, well.

He really didn't know shit about the Great Crusade or the Horus Heresy.

Which did not bode well for all parties in this scenario. Would going straight out of Big E lead to drastic changes in reality as I previously knew it? Kicking my heels against the bottom of my seat, my disgusting pair of cheap black loafers kicking against bolted metal and what I can only assume was marble inlay, indecision.

Maybe I could go the route of all the other SI stories I've read, try to patch things up so shit doesn't get out of hand. Which, in turn, could lead to an even bigger amount of shit and an even bigger fanbase, or it could save all the characters in this suddenly real scenario. It doesn't help that he had nothing real to offer. Earth was run by reasonable and intelligent people who, being reasonable and intelligent people, probably wouldn't do something extremely stupid and try to fight a force that has orbital supremacy over their home, and I was an idiot living in fucking New Zeeland. with a B average college degree and a crappy job. Any attempt to get me involved would be futile, and honestly,

Running a hand through my messy hair, I could only wish I'd showered this morning before dragging myself to my seat, one hand slipping into my back pocket and pulling out a half-crushed pack of cigarettes alongside a lighter. Putting the cigarette butt in my mouth and lighting the lighter several times to light it up, I could only ponder the situation ahead.

Whether there were fire alarms or Biggie Gold was upset with my actions, there was no response, so I tried and couldn't enjoy the taste of nicotine clogging my lungs. This, this thought required.

What did I know about the Horus Heresy?

That Sanguinus was a perfect and beautiful cinnamon roll, too good and too pure for this universe, which deserved better. And that statement now isn't incredibly creepy since he's going to be my new brother.

That Lorgar is a madman with a thing for religion who lets himself be fucked by the prick of Chaos out of spite. Which is also a relatively creepy statement since he is now my brother as well.

Angron is going to be fucked by some complete and utterly evil bastards who turned him into a monster for the sake of entertainment. Which is a sobering thought and a bit of rage, especially now that he's my brother too.

That Horus and Dad were going to get a slap in the face that would lead to one of the most horrible and brutal systems ever imaginable.

Sitting there, exhaling heavy smoke through my nostrils, I can't stop thinking.

At least Lorgar is no longer the worst Primarch.

The unmistakable sound of metal bolts and hooks, along with dozens of heavy gears clanging underfoot, was enough to snap me out of my thoughts. While they don't seem particularly melancholy, it left me in an extremely dangerous position if everything turned out as originally. Metal screeched on metal, and the sound of docking clamps digging into the ground reverberated through the shuttle's hold, causing the entire ship to shudder a bit before finally coming to a stop.

Here we are.

Looking up at the Emperor, all glittering and golden as he is, the look of resignation still very clear on his face. With barely a sound, he was on his feet, with only a fleeting glance at my clumsy shuffle, before walking away, his titanic legs carrying him toward the rear entrance of the shuttle, past the assortment of Solar Helpers still at attention. . . I shook my head, trying to get into the game, so to speak, and chased after him, my little step much, much slower than his. As I passed Auxilia's assortment, I couldn't help but notice the slightest movement of their helmeted heads, they all turned ever so slightly to look at me as they passed, the bland red visors attached to their helmets belying any emotion I might have had. . housed at that time.

Finally reaching the ramp, I could only see small clouds of faint white smoke billowing from the ramp. Honestly, it was like something out of a movie, although now everything was technically out of a movie. With my own half-spent cigarette still between my lips, I crept slowly behind the Emperor, the sheer size of him probably blocking the view of whoever was standing outside. And, I'll be honest, I was glad once I finally got a clear view of the shuttle bay where he wanted us to land.

Remember that scene in Return of the Jedi, when Emperor Palpatine arrives at the Death Star? With the dozens of Stormtroopers and other assorted Imperial troops from Star-Wars all standing still, a massive, imposing and terrifying figure awaiting your arrival at the bottom of the ramp, complete with black cape and imposing size?

Imagine that, cover everything with gold, and then multiply the gathered soldiers by a hundred. And then turn them all into Space Marines.

And it is.

Chaplin.

"Horo".

Oh fill me up

Before I can try to slide down the ramp and avoid all of this mess, my new shiny twist, revealing little me to the entire shuttle bay. To the left, I can see one Marine after another, completely still, their armor a dull gray, probably entirely unpainted, and awaiting guidance from their Primarch on what he would look like, each wearing their signature helmets. with spikes, ribbed armor and thick backpacks of old power armor from the distant days (and personal memories) of the old edition of Rogue Trader. Bolters hung at his side, cradled in his right arms, while his left was at his side, legs together and head held, all of them standing at attention to their Emperor and Primarch.

While the ones on the left are bland, factory-produced, and completely devoid of distinguishing features, these Marines on the right are armored in stark white gear, with hideous black outlines running the length of their shoulders and highlighting their gear. Even their weaponry has received the same treatment, their assorted boltguns sporting the same thick white as their gear, while crimson eyes peek out from under their helmeted heads.

I swallowed audibly.

A wolf devouring the half moon decorated each and every one of them.

"Hello Brother".

Oh fill me up

Horus is a titan. Horus is beautiful. Horus is pretty much the closest thing to Dad he'll ever find, except in appearance, in which case Lorgar beat him. He is huge, not on the Emperor's scale, but he still towers over me, his entire body apparently much larger than the Emperor's. Instead of feeling like a god in form and presence, he is solid and confident, a shock to reality itself when he looks at it, compared to the Father. Instead of the pitch black plates, I remember all the official art that was presented to him, the horrible bronze reflections and the terrible malefic energy that surrounded him, he is completely white, like those of his legion, each plate like pure marble, complete with dozens of intricate silver. . ebony details and armor,

Although his armor is intimidating, his face is even worse. Rich milky skin like Father's, he contains only a faint hint of darkness, but worst of all is the way he looks. Disappointment, eerily similar to the Emperor's, morphing into pity, eyes narrowed. Finally, a half-formed smile makes its way across his face, expertly crafted to hide any doubts about his previous positions.

If he hadn't been looking, she might have thought he liked her.

In the distance, I can see another titanic figure approaching, passing row upon row of Marines in winter coats I hadn't seen, all of them covered in resplendent red and yellow stripes, a multitude of wolf-tailed talismans jutting out. motionless as his Primarch. she walked past them, her heavy footsteps echoing through the shuttle's hold.

FUCK ME.

~~~~~~~

Until I reach the last chapter I will write my new chapters

Next chapter

​Some people, perhaps because they believe that the quality and nature of Russy Boy's education is roughly equivalent to that of Conan the Barbarians, may think that Leman Russ is a braggart, a drunk, an excellent warrior but an amateur god and playful king of Fenris who prefers booze, women, and the thrill of melee violence over anything that comes close to who he really is. These people may also believe that Horus (according to some totally fictional books that should have already been turned over to the proper authorities) is a being of evil incarnate due to his actions during the so-called 'Horus Heresy', enjoying the smell. of babies slow-roasted over an open fire (said fire made with the remains of his enemies), [/ JUSTIFY]

​All of these thoughts are incredibly, incredibly inaccurate as to the nature of my first two brothers.

Leman Russ grew up on a planet that requires what we, on Earth at least, would consider cutting-edge pre-imperial technology to survive, let alone make a living, populated by some of the toughest bastards I've ever seen. and a series of some of the most exceptionally strange, unique, and downright murderous creatures I've had the misfortune to leaf through the Archives out of boredom to discover. I mean, have you seen a Fenrisian wolf? That thing could gut a damn Stormhammer if he managed to land on one of them, and I've seen that tank roll through a hive with hardly a scratch on the paint afterwards. While he 'pacified' he said hive.

And then Russy not only managed to thrive while being adopted by one of those terrifying creatures of science gone wrong, she was captured, raised, and then conquered the entire world by a tribe of idiots so evil that they make my own home Vikings. looks like a lot of pussies. Also, keeping this in mind, even though I work the proverbial linchpin that is Russy, he conquered his home world de ella, with some iron, some wood, and whatever else he could drag along with him. An entire planet, barely above sticks and stones, and completely conquered, from north to south.​​And that's not even getting into Big H. Seriously, Horus is probably the closest thing to verbal competition you'll ever find. Half of the planets he rolls pretty much flip without firing a single shot, and I'm talking about the ones that fall under the completely insane standards we encountered during the Crusade. As in the 'we've repeatedly bombed ourselves back to the Stone Age for some of the pettiest and most pointless reasons imaginable' type of civilizations, who have gone to the stars under the assumption that everyone else is a bigger butt than them, and they intend to use any toy that comes their way to continue the great tradition of idiotic choices and bomb their home planet every two years for even more idiotic reasons.

Of course, just because you can probably talk anyone but one of us into doing what you want doesn't mean you can't hit a weird-looking tank. And I've seen him do that. Closest thing to 'youtube' they have in the Imperium, even with the damn weird means of connecting planetary communications, which is like a mix of the classic cross-posting system with the usual joys of the internet plus a helpful psychic memory aid . hebby-jebby magic, and almost every planet that wants to enter has a copy of Horus hitting a tank. Seriously, stop reading this right now, go to your nearest internet equivalent or noosphere or whatever, and look it up.

You saw it? See those Orkz in the background getting shredded? If you look to the left, about two minutes later, you can see me in the background, behind all those marines.​​And yet, despite all of this, I must admit that my two wonderful wolf-fetish brothers have their more than fair share of massive, impressive, almost crippling personal flaws.

Although, what if you had to narrow those flaws down to something specific? Horus's face is also under the words 'Daddy's Boy' in the dictionary, right next to the list of competitions, and Russy can, in all honesty, be something of an idiot. Nice guy, but he's still a jerk.

I will say that labeling Leman an 'idiot' can be a bit harsh for those who know him as a friend. As someone who knows him like a brother, I will say it clearly. The misunderstandings Russ is a big jerk who is willing to commission a 'great saga exclaiming your deeds to the proud people of Fenris' and then when you hear it, it's half joking at your expense and half working on the Space Wolves axis. . to rescue you from a situation you were in complete control of, even though he had an entire legion under his command, an entire crusader fleet under his command, a bunch of weird super-powered technology under his command, and being a fucking demigod. And then he claims that the whole saga is pretty accurate as he remembers it, laughs,​​Or maybe he'd beat you up anyway because he found it funny, like he does with Pinky. So in essence, he's like a cool older brother who's a jerk to you because he can be.

Which is exactly how he was when I met him.

~~~~~~

Where the Emperor is simply biblical in size, position and general aura, and Horus is more like seeing something akin to a living giant among the world of men, immovable and relentless in pursuit of what he desires, Leman Russ is more in the same line. . . lines from something out of a Norse myth, possibly Germanic.

Looking at the giant of a man approaching, I can make out his eyes, like two frozen pieces of ice lodged in his head, without a thought of kindness or tact within him, assessing everything in sight by his own personal standard. and judging harshly. those. who fail his personal test. His hair is like a classic rustic blonde, not so much silky smooth, but rougher and harder and cooler, more like it's been through the worst conditions you could put your face in and come out hard, whereas his face looks have been carved out of ice. By comparison, his armor is dressed in the colors of winter, a deep icy shade of gray, while a dozen pointed spikes protrude from his entire set of power armor, each one looking sharp even from afar. distance.

​The final note I can put on his appearance, even as he gets closer and closer, the heavy footsteps echoing throughout the shuttle bay, is the huge lupine coat that covers his back, the claws of the beast make notches in the metal floor. behind him, he remains ridiculously sharp even in death. Behind him comes a series of smaller figures, albeit small only in appliques compared to their father in front of them, still towering easily over me as they approach the three of us, all armed with the same Russian-style yellow stripes and painted in black. black. red on his shoulders. their shoulders and marking each as a member of a different company.

Before I can really understand, Horus is already speaking.

"My regards, brother."

Turning to face the massive Primarch, I can only look up, and up, at him.

This is the Archtraitor. ​​The thought flashes through my mind before I can open my mouth, forcing me to try to think for the desperate seconds before this whole greeting moves into awkward territory. From what I remember of 40k, Horus was the first Primarch to be discovered by the Emperor on a shit planet very close to Terra, spending most of his time with dad and being considered the Primarch. Each of them had his flaws, but Horus was among the best.

So I'm going with the only real answer I can.

"Hears".

What was left of my previous cigarette burned away completely, leaving only the sparkling filter in my mouth and the faint smell of smoke clinging to my clothes to compete with the discomfort that follows. Horus flashes his bright smile complete with perfect sleek teeth and clear face, Rus is probably hurtling towards us at a speed I'd associate more with normal running than walking speed and it clearly looks like the Emperor would rather be anywhere. the rest. For the next few seconds, I personally wonder where this is going, though Horus apparently expects him to attempt some sort of small talk, one way or another. [/ JUSTIFY]

​"So, how are things?"

I'm not good at small talk.

Happily, Horus is.

"Everything's fine so far, little brother. What's your name?"

Hi, I'm Wall. Pushing the dead smoke from my lips, holding it between my fingers, I crane my neck back to look at him. "Which is short for Wallace, but most people call me Wal."

And with that, Horus takes control of the conversation, clearly more comfortable in the situation than I am.

"Wallace". He rolled the words across his tongue, lengthening them a bit, his accent a balanced blend of refinement and a slight hint of roughness.​​"I am Horus Lupercal, Primarch and Father of the XVI Legion, the Luna Wolves."

He turned slightly to the right, raising his arm in a nonchalant gesture toward the ranks and ranks of Space Marines still standing with their full attention, their armor barely making a sound as dozens of cables and gears worked harmoniously, a sight only I could see. I could see. . I could see. do Because of my short stature compared to him. "Cthonia's strongest warriors are among my sons, they care to complete whatever task is required of them, no matter the odds or the situation."

"Hey".

I don't think he was impressed by my answer. Regardless of what she opened her mouth to say in response, she stopped when I can only guess that she was getting closer to Leman Russ. [/ JUSTIFY]

​"Father brother." His voice is strong and booming, it sounds exactly like I vaguely imagined it would be, but his accent was strange. Honestly, it was like listening to the old Swedish chef from the muppets, but amplified with God-juice and mixed with Conan the Barbarian. He stops, standing next to Horus, looking at me without the false warmth with which Horus covered his own face, and I almost expect a great exclamation like "Who is this dwarf?" or 'Where is our brother?' Instead, his voice continues at the same pace, without any surprise or problem seeing me.

Hail brother.

"Hey".​​Judging by the slight movement of his eyebrow, or so I think since I can't see his full face with him standing so close and being so big, I wasn't expecting such a casual greeting. Before either he or Horus can reply, the God-Emperor speaks, nullifying any possible arguments.

"Leman, the planet".

And everything he says is swept away by a tide of military facts, jargon, and confusing arguments. Leman and Dad talk about the movement of ships, the armies maneuvering below, the landing forces, the diplomatic discussions, and, with what I can only believe is amusement in Leman's voice, the threat of small nukes. climbing . The little I can take in is that Imperial landers are being shot down all over the planet, on every continent and in the center of the world's major cities, while the small forces that are springing up to try to stop the Imperials have been removed. . quickly. through etheric warfare. As the two of them talk of war and conquest, jarring as it is, I can feel a huge metallic hand grabbing my shoulder,

Horus is at my side, knees slightly bent, hand placed on my relatively small shoulder, moving very subtly through the ranks of Marines, leading me away from the shuttle. Behind us, the Solar Helpers will improve in perfect formation, awaiting their Emperor's command, weapons slung over their shoulders and legs braced.​​"Come little brother, there is much to discuss."

Walking through the ranks of the Marines, each supersoldier who remained impassive as ever.

It was, in all honesty, a little scary.

~~~~~~

Falling forward, I landed on the most comfortable bed I had ever touched, the sheets a mix of some kind of super silk and a strange multitude of metallic fibers that accommodated whoever slept inside, providing a wonderful cushion to my face. The entire room was filled with similar pieces of extreme comfort, all intended to provide the most luxurious and perfect room for the Emperor's family. Antique wood was placed on the walls, etched with multiple fanciful designs and images, each extremely similar to the ferry I came aboard hours later, meaning they were all assorted images of eagles, skulls and other absolutely stunning pieces. macabre, while the floor was solid marble.​​Gold and other precious metals filled the room, devouring every piece of furniture in a wave of opulence and wealth, all signs of both the Empire and the power of the Emperor. Large chandeliers hung overhead, glowing with what I thought were holographic candles from the lack of smoke, while a series of large paintings hung on each wall, each depicting a grand scene, like something fresh from the woodwork. Blanche's famous works for 40k.

Rolling over, I massaged my head, trying to lessen the headache pounding into my skull from the inside, before sitting up straight, a low sigh escaping my lips. Horus was a surprisingly patient individual, completely willing to put up with my blank confusion and speechless surprise, not to mention complete lack of understanding as he attempted to give me a tour of the Ship. The Imperator Somnium was his name, although he was better known as the Bucephalus.those who served on board, and was arguably the largest warship in the entire Empire, due to row after row of macro-cannons, lance batteries, destructive torpedoes of all shapes and sizes (from the smallest from Short Burn to the largest, planet-devouring Vortex torpedoes), cargo bays large enough to see the distant figures of dormant Titans in the distance, and approximately 315,000 Space Marines currently on board.

315,000 Space Marines.​​Speechless, I moaned.

What I did know is, thanks to my fair share of internet discussions, that at least a third of the marines on board were, in fact, a Legion awaiting my command and would apparently be under said command for five minutes. , and then split between the Space Wolves and the Ultramarines due to Leman Russ executing his Primarch, or so the popular theory goes. In this case, they could use it elsewhere for purely practical reasons.

The Emperor had created them in the expectation of having a Primarch to lead them, and without one, they might as well go to his truly useful children.

Taking a step back, I extended my body, ignoring the feeling of disgust in my gut at the sight of a servo-skull hovering above my head, blank eye sockets staring down at me and several tendrils rippling beneath it.

The empire is disgusting.​​When I first got into Warhammer when I was young, it sounded so cool, so radical, that I couldn't help but love it. The grim reality of heroes dying daily, the ghastly conquest of planets and barbarian settlement of worlds, Space Marines being strangers, warrior monks and honest Guardsmen enlisting to fight and die in order to buy Another day of survival.

And then today I saw a server.

Checkered flesh clinging to the robotic arms, the seams red and raw with the slightest traces of necrotic fluids escaping their form. It wasn't even designed for war or violence, like those buzzing masses of swords that are melee minions, or loaded with hair-raising weird and exotic weapons. No, he was there to hold open a cursed door. Dead eyes staring at nothing, a body hacked to pieces and infested with horrible machinery, a dead mind enslaved to perform the most useless and menial tasks.

I can feel the bile rising in my throat again.

The Empire, Warhammer itself, is fucking evil.​​This whole universe is fucking evil for allowing a server to exist.

A faint thought sinks to the back of my mind, the thought of making the universe a better place, of trying to save something from the Empire, of trying to lead humanity away from that dark and horrible road ahead, of saving it from the darkness invaders and plague of chaos. But, if what I believed was happening was true, then it would be meaningless due to a complete lack of resources on my part. Sure, he could run and send warnings where he could, try to change some of the Primarch's fates for the better.

I could try.

The indecision through those ideas of potential meaningless heroism. What can I do?​​From what I think I know, the Emperor will take the Second Legion and break it into pieces to distribute among his other Legions. What leaves me with what exactly? The position as the acknowledged son of the Emperor, but that didn't count beyond the joys of nepotism, even if he tried to enact something, it would just as easily be reversed. Establish some kind of group to counter the threat of Chaos? There were many around him, for example, the Empire itself, or that group of aliens, the concord or something like that, who were trying to get humanity to commit suicide to starve Chaos. No Inquisition, no Gray Knight, no dedicated anti-Warp force of any kind, according to my small knowledge base of 30k, existed in any real, substantial form at this time.

The servo-skull chirps overhead, like a parody of a living thing, its tendrils swaying back and forth as it bobs up and down, dancing like a puppet that any truly living creature awaits my response. With a sigh, all I can do is wave my hand up, more a meaningless swipe than anything resembling a command, but the skull reacts anyway. [/ JUSTIFY]

​Even as it floats closer, my mind keeps spinning and half a dozen ideas come to me about what the hell I'm going to do here. all of these ideas required things I didn't have, support that probably wouldn't last long, and many relied on things being exactly on the 30k rails, which I definitely couldn't rely on. I need a foundation, a solid rock on which to build my house for when the storm comes, if it ever comes.

A small holographic field appears over my face, not in the blurry CRT monitor style I'd expect (and it has appeared on something like Space Marine), but rather crisp and clear. An all-white background with a smiling skull and stylized black writing listing my father's demands. A meeting to take place in an hour or so, with a variety of prominent people from the fleet in attendance.

eh​​If I had to guess, this would be the best time to meet and greet. Either it was going to be the Emperor handing over the II Legion to Leman and Horus, or else.

Well, it's a starting point.

~~~~~~

N/A

the 4th chapter is mine

many people in the empire think that when various primarchs and the emperor meet with political and military elements of the crusade it is the greatest honor to be one of those invited to such a meeting

Personally I think it's a hoax, especially with the incredulous looks of those people looking at you as if it were a joke and wanting to ask who the stowaway is or if it's a joke of course no one would say it to the emperor's face, especially in the presence of 2 primarchs even more when the reason for such disbelief is someone whom the emperor has presented as one of his sons

but that's what happened

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

the place where we gather aboard the pope's flagship the bucephalus a 20km gold plated vessel is bigger inside than out or maybe it's just me or maybe the feeling when over 300,000 superhumans do it they looked at it was strange, maybe it's their size, I have an incredible number, I guess now. that dad recognized me and thought that he would not disappear from me

"Well my son, let me introduce you to the ll legion of space marines of the adeptus astarte" the emperor addressed me looking directly at me at that moment I was paralyzed mainly because I don't know what the hell to do

"ahhh I look at the legion my legion and I think they all look me in the eye"

"ok" the emperor looks at me i look at him, horus and leman and the fleet officers look at me "i think they are wondering who will speak first" obviously it's me

"I think we should talk" the emperor curved a small smile "of course son"

++++++++++

"then" I look at the emperor looking for an answer and he looks at me funny

"So Wallace, what did you want to talk to me?" he asks.

"pad-- "I stop and look at him I don't know what to call him I never asked his name

"wallace you can call me father, okay" he says with a tone that does not accept debate he looks at me, I look at him and I nod my head

"ok" I say slowly

"Then, father, why did you introduce me to that legion?" answer me

"wallace are not that legion, they are your legion, your blood and your children" I remain silent before that answer of all things, I did not expect it

"My son, I have put off this talk for a long time and I apologize to you for that." Then he walks over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. You are My son, regardless of whether you live up to my expectations or not, the fact that, of all my sons, you are the only one I can trust with any certainty. information considering your gift".

"my gift, what are you talking about, I'm just a human, I'm not a perfect primarch like horus or a warrior demigod like leman" I look at him for answers and he responds

"wallace by gift I mean your white power and the reason why you're not a 100% primarch like your brothers" I look at him like he's crazy

"what" he replies with a confused look

"wallace, do you know what a white man is?" question inquiring tone

"sss yes" he answers with a stutter "they are invisible people for psychics" I look at him and he looks at me with an arched eyebrow in response

"well that sums it up" he replies dryly

"But what I want to say is that you are not a 100% primarch like your brothers, it is that when I created all your brothers, I made each one of them by molding their flesh with the power of the warp, that is why they are perfect for the human standards". But, when I created you, I made you with the complete lobulo sintarius organ that gives you a much higher life expectancy than your brothers but not with the organ immortis that gives your brothers the size and super strength but the yours alone gives you immortality not super strength and a blank aura, though not powerful enough to be noticed and annoyed by everyone around you, but enough to make you invisible to certain entities, your blood on the other hand,as well as your brothers can use to make genetic seeds although it does not turn your children white it gives them a greater resistance to the warp but when your children are gathered en masse in a space it makes a black dot form where they are invisible even for me and the seed suppresses any psychic power even those of latent psychic blood because I used all my power and knowledge to make a special connection between you and your legion, as well as your brothers,although since you are white I could not mold your flesh to be like your brothers in that aspect it fails although since you are white I could not mold your flesh to be like your brothers in that aspect it fails although since you are white I could not mold your flesh to be like your brothers in that aspect it fails although as you are white I could not mold your flesh to be like your brothers in that aspect it fails although as you are white I could not mold your flesh to be like your brothers in that aspect it fails although as you are white I could not mold your flesh to be like your brothers in that aspect aspect failed

I stare 'what does that mean I ask? He answers

"It means you're a blank demi-primarch with a blank aura just enough to make you invisible to all psykers and warp entities, enough so that a gene-seed can be created from your blood, the fact that your true flesh and blood in aspects is more human than that of your brothers is the reason why currently your legion is the largest basically 1 out of every 100 neophytes is rejected by your seed your gene-seed in the aspect that your meat was not made with warp power but your gene-seed is more complicated and it would take me decades to explain it to you still son you are not a waste

I look at him in silence and without words and then I answer "I thought you were going to dissolve my legion and join them to the legions of horus and leman" he looks at me with an arched eyebrow

"Wallace, as I told you at home, you are confused and I will teach you everything your brothers know." Also, disbanding a legion, especially the largest one, and killing its parent when your gene-seed is the purest is impossible to do more than you think because "The connection between you and the gene-seed within the Astartes of your legion is that if you die the blank protection that your seed gives to the legion would disappear at best, at worst the connection would send your children into a murderous rage until they kill your killer

I remain silent in shock

++++++++++

"So, brother, what did you and father talk about?" Horus asked me to my left at the big table in the great hall where all the important fleet personnel meet for lunch with Dad, with him to Horus's right and Leman to his left.

I look at him and answer him

"about my future and legion" Horus looks at me arching an amused eyebrow

"what future will be brother" he asks me interested"

"Because I'm not like you and Leman" I answer trying not to look at the children

"oh" he replies uncomfortable or sad after a few minutes he puts a hand on my shoulder

"wal, before he finished, dad interrupted him

"Wallace, my son, what do you think of your children?" Dad asks me, drawing the attention of those closest to him.

"eh well I think they are a good legion, right?" I think the emperor wants to have a conversation

"So, what do you think of your situation?" he asks me and I reply

"well to start father you have not explained to me what my role is in this great crusade," at this point I think we have the attention of the whole place although most are discreet

the emperor looks at me and blinks "I guess wallace is right, I apologize to be more honest, your role is practically the same as that of your brothers and is to bring to fulfillment all the human worlds scattered in the galaxy to unify humanity and bring the imperial truth to those worlds " he explains to me "as long as you comply with that, you and your brothers have a lot of freedom in fact in your free time you can do whatever you want within reason that does not negatively affect the empire, for example you can build technology or build government systems, the administrative form of the empire empire is that each world that has been brought to fulfillment by each legion will be ruled in a domain administered and ruled by the primarch of said legion,of course we haven't found all your brothers so at the moment every world that has been brought to fulfillment by a legion without a primarch, is administered by the administratun until the primarch is found, the sun segment is ruled directly by terra

I look at him surprised and ask him "

how many worlds has my legion conquered," instead of the emperor answering it is horus who does it

"currently the ll legion has more or less 15000 worlds your legion is one with more accomplishments equaled by my legion and leman's

"By the way, how is my legion?" I ask them, in this case the emperor is the one who answers me

"well each legion has different tactics and doctrines but your legion is more siege oriented and they are very good at it, although their specialty is more in space including fleet vs fleet battles and capturing empty ships, in fact the ll has the largest fleet of all legions due to capturing ships and refitting them, the second legion with the largest fleet is legion l"

"I have a question I tell them and the emperor looks curious

"Which one is wallace?" he asks me curiously "I tell him

"What about the species that are not human, father?" I ask him and I think that draws everyone's attention, the emperor answers me

"as long as they don't represent a threat against humanity they can become a wallace pretectorate" the emperor answers and horus and leman look at him surprised and it is leman who asks

"what can we do that" asks mortified the emperor looks at him curiously and says

"Yes, leman, as long as they are morally sane and do not represent a threat to the empire, I have no problem, of course if one of you creates a protectorate it will fall into your domain, and besides, I do not understand why you are surprised, honestly, it is easier and less ruinous to create protectorates than to burn a planet" Horus and Leman look at him surprised and everyone in the dining room also I suppose that few knew