Chapter 55: The Meaning of Perfection
"Very good."
This was the Emperor's assessment upon first seeing Eusonis standing beside Yuki.
Yuki raised an eyebrow. She was accustomed to the Emperor's elusive way of speaking, but she was not someone who left questions unasked.
"How good?"
The Emperor paused before replying:
"If he were among the Legio Custodes, he might become a second Valdor."
He might even surpass him.
The Emperor did not voice the latter thought, yet the first was already enough to make Yuki beam with satisfaction.
Hehe… I struck gold.
As one of the earliest warriors of the Zero Legion's Astartes, Eusonis had faced countless powerful foes. Yet beneath his twin blades, those so-called formidable enemies burst like fragile bubbles at the slightest touch. Victory after victory would follow him — this was a certainty etched into his soul.
He had sparred with his brothers many times to refine his strength, but soon stopped; such matches no longer pushed him forward. On Terra, training against the Emperor's Custodians had become his routine. At first he could barely withstand them. Gradually, he reached parity — and on rare occasions, even superiority.
Back in the present, the training hall walls were riddled with human-shaped craters.
Eusonis stood at the center like an unmoving boss from an ancient vid-sim, crushing one opponent after another.
He had not even drawn his swords.
Eidolon's expression darkened.
He admitted he had underestimated both the Zero Legion and Eusonis. Otherwise, he would not have sent Lucius, a company commander, as the first challenger.
But this one-sided humiliation ignited his fury.
Eidolon — the Lord Commander elevated by Fulgrim himself — was famed for his precise grasp of warfare and was regarded as a model officer among the Emperor's Children.
If he possessed flaws, they were excessive confidence and unwavering devotion to Fulgrim.
Now, watching Eusonis casually kick a fallen warrior aside, Eidolon's restraint snapped.
This was no friendly spar.
This was humiliation.
Humiliation of the III Legion.
Humiliation of Fulgrim.
This was not a kick — it was a slap across the Legion's face.
I will teach this bastard a lesson.
…
Forgive me, Lord Eusonis… I have failed to satisfy you.
Eidolon closed his eyes.
Silence engulfed the training hall.
Seeing their Lord Commander lying defeated, the warriors of the Emperor's Children finally understood:
They had not come to a simple spar.
They had been judged.
(Though it had been they who issued the challenge.)
When no one else stepped forward to face Eusonis, Yuki rose with clear satisfaction.
"Fulgrim, what do you think?"
Fulgrim's expression was equally unpleasant. He understood that Eusonis would not have fought in such a manner without cause.
"Sister… have we offended you in some way?"
Yuki did not answer directly.
Instead, she drifted down into the arena beside Eusonis and smiled at the grim-faced warriors surrounding her.
"What? You cannot accept defeat?
Or have you become so arrogant that you believe yourselves beyond failure?
Years ago, your predecessors fought beside the Emperor and earned the aquila upon their breastplates.
Now you disgrace it.
The Emperor named you the Emperor's Children so you would serve as exemplars of the Imperium. Yet you mistake nobility for superiority, and honor for vanity.
Across the Imperium, whispers spread — that you are peacocks… peacocks blinded by your own brilliance.
I will not hear further rumors of you scorning mortals… or dishonoring your own brothers."
The silence became suffocating.
Yuki returned to Fulgrim's side. He was about to speak when she gently covered his mouth.
"There is no need to apologize, Fulgrim. You have done nothing wrong."
She lowered her hand.
"Fulgrim, you understand that true perfection is not surface brilliance, but something born from within. I will say only this:
If everything you do is in pursuit of perfection itself… then you have already strayed from the path to perfection."
Yuki departed, Eusonis following behind.
Fulgrim remained motionless.
Fulgrim had never sought a final state of perfection.
He cherished the process — the act of refinement, of becoming better, of drawing closer to the ideal self he envisioned.
If anyone else had told him that striving too hard toward that ideal might push it further away, he would have laughed and said:
Just watch — I will prove you wrong.
But the one who spoke those words was Yuki.
From the moment he met her, Fulgrim sensed she stood closer to perfection than he did.
Observation only confirmed it.
The people adored her.
Her brothers revered her.
Even the Emperor showed unmistakable favor.
Fulgrim had told no one how overjoyed he was when others remarked that he resembled Yuki.
Did that mean he was becoming more like her?
More perfect?
Yet now, the person he considered nearer to perfection than himself suggested that his path was flawed.
What was he to do?
What could he do?
"Father?"
A Phoenix Guard warrior spoke softly beside him.
"Tarvitz… Tarvitz!"
"Y-yes, Father?"
"Saul Tarvitz. Bring him to me. I must see him."
Saul Tarvitz was an unremarkable company captain within the Emperor's Children.
In truth, his skill and achievements merited higher rank long ago. Yet Tarvitz had declined every promotion offered to him.
To Tarvitz, rank and honor held little meaning. Was not the purpose of becoming an Astartes to serve the Emperor?
This belief guided his life.
His soldiers respected him deeply.
Traditionalists such as Eidolon dismissed him.
Lucius — his friend — envied him in secret.
Tarvitz disliked the Legion's growing obsession with glory and recognition. Yet he never imposed his beliefs upon others. Instead, he focused on his duties.
When word spread that the Zero Legion had arrived for a sparring match, Tarvitz merely frowned. Unlike his brothers, he did not go to watch.
He continued practicing his swordsmanship.
Any Legion reputed to be strong was strong — that much was obvious.
Why his brothers refused to believe this baffled him.
So he chose not to humiliate himself.
They would learn after taking a beating.
Perhaps this will temper their arrogance, he thought.
A harsh lesson now may save them from catastrophe later.
A knock sounded.
He opened the door to find a deputy commander he recognized.
"How did it go, brother?" Tarvitz asked. "Did we win?"
"…A crushing defeat."
Tarvitz nodded.
As expected.
"Ahem. The Primarch wishes to see you."
"…I'm sorry — the Primarch wishes to see me?"
Yuki returned to her chamber aboard the Imperial Wings.
She was not truly angry.
Arrogance existed within every Legion. She could not guarantee her own Legion was free from it.
Yet within the Third Legion, it had grown especially pronounced.
That was not what troubled her.
What troubled her was Fulgrim.
His obsession with perfection ran too deep.
Whether born from his nature… or influenced by darker whispers… if his thinking did not change, then even if she prevented him from claiming the daemonic blade, another temptation would arise — another perfect blade, another perfect ideal — and Fulgrim would still fall.
Changing his mind felt nearly impossible.
Fulgrim already understood the truth:
Perfection is not a destination, but a pursuit. The process of striving is what gives it meaning.
He had never sought to be perfect — only to improve.
How could she deny someone the right to become better?
Yuki felt lost.
She remembered an incident on a distant world: an Astartes recoiled in disgust after a mortal brushed against his armor.
Fulgrim responded by lifting a mortal child onto his shoulders before his warriors.
"You are noble," he told them. "They are fragile. Your duty is to raise them as high as possible. To lower them, even slightly, is to betray your own nobility."
In that moment, Fulgrim embodied what the Emperor envisioned for His Primarchs.
Perhaps this was why the Legion bore the name Emperor's Children.
Yet Yuki knew something deeper remained unchanged.
Fulgrim's respect for mortals still came from the perspective of a superior being.
Mortals, Primarchs, and Astartes remained separated by an invisible but immense barrier.
Questions swirled in her mind.
Primarchs.
Mortals.
Astartes.
The Ruinous Powers.
The Imperium appeared mighty — yet beneath its strength lay fragility.
Suddenly, exhaustion crashed over her.
She had not slept in… how long?
She could not remember.
All she wanted now was silence — to clear her mind and surrender to sleep.
"Mom, something's happened."
Yuki exhaled.
So much for rest.
She gestured for the report.
"According to the Thunder Warriors of the Second Legion… Lord Mordecai Threxion's original form has recently shown signs of severe instability."
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