Chapter 48 Title Is Hard to Think Of
"Pong."
"Four of a kind."
"Kong… tsk."
Kadis flicked a tile into the center.
"So, what do you think of our cousins — the Tenth Legion?"
Waiting for War
While preparing to eliminate an alien occupation force in a nearby star system, Yuki's fleet had joined with the Seventh Legion and the Shadowmoon Wolves. Moments like these — three Legions idling in the same system — were rare.
Rare… and dangerous.
Idle Astartes invented hobbies.
And so the mahjong table was full.
Togaton, Second Company Commander of the Shadowmoon Wolves, lazily tossed out a two of dots.
"How should we look at them? We'll see when we see them."
Kadis drew a tile.
"They're said to be… eccentric."
Abaddon looked up from arranging his hand.
"Eccentric?"
Sigismund nodded.
"They pursue cybernetic augmentation with unusual fervor. Some say it borders on obsession. And they maintain close ties with the Mechanicum."
Abaddon grunted.
That alone lowered his opinion.
The Mechanicum's tech-adepts were erratic enough. But those heavily augmented combat thralls that sometimes accompanied them into battle — screaming binaric cant while charging enemy fire — made even veteran Astartes uneasy.
"My mother has spoken with Lord Ferrus about it," Kadis added, "but no effective solution has been found."
Togaton raised a brow.
"Even Her Highness cannot fix it?"
"Very difficult," Kadis said.
Ferrus vs His Sons
Ferrus Manus had confronted one of the most heavily modified warriors in his Legion.
He had nearly stopped breathing when he saw him.
One eye replaced with an optic lens.
Both arms replaced.
Reinforced ribs visible beneath plating.
Vocal modulator replacing a throat.
"Why," Ferrus demanded, "have you done this to yourself?"
"Father," the Astartes replied calmly, "why preserve weak flesh when metal grants strength — as it did to you?"
Ferrus's eyes twitched.
"These hands were an accident!"
"I do not care."
"…you insolent whelp."
Reasoning failed.
Orders failed.
Threats failed.
Nothing stopped the momentum.
The Spiral
The logic was simple.
Augmented warriors survived longer.
They struck harder.
They endured more.
Victories accelerated.
More victories encouraged augmentation.
Augmentation encouraged further augmentation.
Half the Legion now walked the path of iron.
Ferrus, exhausted, had eventually sought counsel from Mordecai Threxion.
And later, liquor.
Back to the Mahjong Table
Abaddon tilted his head.
"Why not forbid modifications outright?"
Kadis shook his head.
"They would deliberately suffer injuries to justify replacements."
Sigismund offered a thought:
"If we defeat them in duels, would that not prove flesh superior?"
Togaton snorted.
"They'd just conclude they need more augmentation."
Abaddon shuffled tiles.
"I have a solution."
Everyone paused.
"Send the most augmented into the worst battles. Once enough die, morale improves."
Togaton's gaze sharpened.
Abaddon shrugged.
"I'm joking."
Kadis sighed.
"This is difficult."
Meanwhile: A More Serious Discussion
Mordecai Threxion sighed the same words hours later.
"This is difficult."
Ferrus sat opposite him, draining a barrel of liquor.
"I cannot remove the metal from my own arms," he admitted. "How can I persuade them?"
Mordecai Threxion said nothing for a long moment.
He was privately grateful his own Legion showed no such tendencies.
The Third Company commander knocked.
"Father. Communication from the Princess."
Yuki's Solution
"Ferrus, you're there, right?"
"Yes, sister."
"Here is what you will do:
First — consolidate those who refuse to stop augmenting into a single formation.
Second — do not assign them prestigious missions.
Third — if they grow restless, assign them to Mechanicum joint operations… then leave them idle afterward."
Ferrus blinked.
Yuki continued:
"When they realize augmentation isolates them instead of elevating them, resentment will shift toward the practice itself."
She paused.
"This is a dangerous solution. Mishandled, it could fracture the Legion. So you must slow your conquest pace and reduce internal pressure."
Then her voice sharpened.
"And stop broadcasting your ideology about transcending flesh through hardship. You are unintentionally fueling the problem."
Ferrus wiped sweat from his brow.
"…understood."
Mordecai Threxion quietly slid further out of view.
One More Thing
"Oh, Ferrus."
"Yes, sister?"
"Forge a weapon for Horus."
Ferrus blinked.
"No problem. I will craft one worthy of him."
He hesitated.
"…why now?"
A Month Earlier
After five brutal years in the Flame Wheel Sector, the Space Wolves eradicated a massive Ork empire.
The Legion suffered heavy losses.
To honor the victory, the Emperor traveled personally to the Hrafnkel.
Before the assembled Legion, he bestowed:
the Wolf Fang Fortress
the Spear of Russ
The Wolves howled until bulkheads trembled.
Across the Imperium, congratulations followed.
But Yuki sensed something was wrong.
Horus had begun reading again.
Working relentlessly.
Driving the Vengeful Spirit at punishing pace.
Yuki Investigates
She found him reviewing deployment charts.
"Horus, why are you rushing lately?"
"I am not."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Oh? I thought our poor Horus was jealous of Russ receiving Father's praise…"
Horus immediately covered her mouth.
"Sister, I have pride. Please stop."
She pulled his hand away.
"Then say what you feel."
He hesitated.
"…I want a weapon Father gives me."
He looked away, embarrassed.
Yuki blinked.
"That's it?"
She grabbed him.
"Come on. Let's go get one."
The Emperor's Vault
"…that is all?" the Emperor asked flatly.
"Yes, Father."
He led them into a vast armory.
Relics from forgotten wars.
Archaeotech weapons.
Bladed weapons older than nations.
Spears that hummed with power.
"You may choose."
"What about me?" Yuki asked.
"…very well."
Horus barely heard them.
He had noticed a suit of pearl-white armor with a bow sigil — then forced himself to look away.
He lifted weapon after weapon.
The Emperor recounted each history.
Each bearer.
Each battlefield.
Each legacy.
Finally Horus asked:
"Father… may I have a story of my own?"
Silence lingered.
"…yes," the Emperor said quietly.
"I will forge one for you myself."
Yuki quickly broke the solemn tension.
"We cannot have Horus using ordinary weapons until then. I'll ask Ferrus to forge him one. I've yet to see his craftsmanship."
Horus brightened.
"Thank you, sister."
A guard entered.
"My lord — we have reached Proxima Centauri."
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