=== Vulkan ===
Darkness receded slowly, like a tide pulling back from a shore.
Vulkan drew in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes opened for the first time in what felt like an eternity. For a moment, he did not move. His vision was blurred, the world around him indistinct shapes and muted colors that swam together as his mind struggled to catch up with his body.
There was no memory of where he was, no clear understanding of how he had arrived, only the lingering sensation of something vast and terrible finally releasing its hold on him.
Slowly, the room came into focus.
It was unfamiliar, constructed of smooth stone and reinforced metal, lit by soft white luminance panels embedded into the walls. It was not Nocturne, nor was it Terra. It was not any place he remembered.
Vulkan exhaled heavily and began to move.
The slab beneath him groaned faintly as he pushed himself upright. Muscles that had not been used in an age protested, and for a moment his vision swam again as his body struggled to obey him. He swung his legs over the side of the slab, his feet touching the floor as he steadied himself.
Only then did he notice he was not alone.
Four figures stood at the edges of the chamber, one in each corner, their blue armor unmistakable even through the haze still clouding his mind. Ultramarines. They stood rigid, weapons lowered but ready, their posture caught somewhere between vigilance and disbelief.
They were staring at him.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then one of them suddenly turned and sprinted from the room without a word, his armored footsteps echoing loudly as he disappeared through the doorway.
The remaining three hesitated only briefly before moving in closer, forming a loose perimeter around the Primarch.
"Lord Vulkan," one of them said, his voice carrying both reverence and urgency. "You must remain seated. You have been unconscious for a very long time."
"Please," another added quickly, raising a hand in a calming gesture. "Wait here. Regent Agemman or Imperial Grand Regent Nira will be with you shortly."
The names meant nothing.
Vulkan frowned slightly, his mind struggling to grasp the words as they were spoken. Agemman. Nira. They felt foreign, disconnected from everything he knew, and yet… the second name stirred something faint at the edges of his memory, like a distant echo he could not quite place.
His thoughts were a storm of fragments.
Images flickered through his mind without warning, flashes of fire and blood, of endless battles fought in places that defied reason. He remembered the Warp, its maddening expanse stretching out in all directions, filled with horrors that clawed at the soul as much as the flesh. He remembered fighting, always fighting, against creatures that should not exist, holding the line against an eternity of darkness that sought to break him.
And then there were other memories.
Obi-Wan… something.
Vulkan's brow furrowed as he tried to grasp the name, but it slipped away from him like smoke.
He shook his head sharply, as though trying to force the fragments back into place, but the motion only made the fog in his mind swirl more violently. Another memory surged forward, the cruel, mocking laughter of Konrad Curze echoing endlessly through his thoughts.
Vulkan's expression hardened.
Without another word, he pushed himself fully to his feet.
"Lord Vulkan," one of the Ultramarines said quickly, stepping forward. "You are not yet—"
Vulkan moved past him.
It was not a violent action, nor was it done with any particular force, yet the difference in their strength was absolute. The Ultramarine stumbled slightly as the Primarch brushed past him, unable to do anything but give way as Vulkan strode toward the door.
"Stop him," another muttered urgently.
They tried.
The three warriors moved to intercept him, but Vulkan simply continued forward, his massive form parting them as though they were little more than obstacles in his path.
He reached the door and threw it open.
The corridor beyond stretched out before him, lined with the same cold materials as the chamber he had just left. Vulkan stepped into it without hesitation, his pace quickening as the lingering unease in his chest began to grow.
Behind him, the Ultramarines followed.
"Lord Vulkan, please—!" one of them called.
But Vulkan did not stop.
The memories came harder now.
Curze's laughter.
The Warp pressing in on all sides.
Endless torment that refused to release him.
His breathing grew heavier as he began to move faster, his massive strides carrying him down the corridor as confusion gave way to urgency. He turned corners without knowing where they led, his shoulder brushing against walls as he struggled to orient himself in a place that felt completely alien.
Then suddenly, the corridor opened.
Vulkan staggered slightly as he entered a vast chamber dominated by a massive viewing window that stretched from floor to ceiling. Beyond it lay a city unlike anything he had ever seen.
Mandalore.
Though he did not yet know its name, the sight of it stole what little breath he had left. Towers of steel and stone rose into the sky, ships moved constantly overhead, and below it all the streets churned with frantic activity. Something had happened here, and the entire world seemed to be reacting to it.
Vulkan stepped closer to the glass.
He stood there in silence, watching the chaos unfold beneath him, trying to make sense of a reality that felt utterly disconnected from everything he remembered.
A voice broke through the fog.
"Primarch."
Vulkan turned.
A figure approached from behind, moving with the aid of a reinforced exo-suit that supported his frame. The armor was of the Ultramarines, though the man within it bore the marks of past injuries.
Severus Agemman inclined his head respectfully as he came to a stop a short distance away.
"My lord," he said, his tone steady despite the weight of the moment. "I am Regent Agemman."
Vulkan regarded him silently.
Agemman continued, "I imagine you have many questions. I will answer what I can, but you should know that matters are… dire."
Vulkan's gaze drifted back to the window, taking in the unrest below.
"Where am I?" he asked at last, his voice deep and steady despite the storm still raging in his mind.
Agemman hesitated only briefly. "You are far from our home, my Lord. We are in an entirely different universe, one where Chaos has only recently begun to take hold. The Imperium you know does not exist here as it once did. What remains is… a fragment. We have been here for only a few years."
Vulkan absorbed the words in silence.
His eyes moved again across the city before him.
"What world is this?" he asked.
"Mandalore," Agemman replied. "It is now the capital of this Imperium."
Vulkan slowly turned back toward him.
His gaze lingered on the Ultramarine's armor for a moment before he spoke again. "You are of Guilliman's sons. Is he here?"
Agemman lowered his head slightly.
"No, my Lord. This force consists only of the First Company of the Ultramarines. We are… isolated."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"However, we were not the first Astartes to arrive in this universe. Three warriors were already present when we came. Maximus of the Ultramarines. Sebastian of the Black Templars. And… Raxor of the Salamanders."
The name hung in the air.
Vulkan did not react immediately.
Instead, he turned once more toward the window, his gaze drifting across the chaotic city below as the name echoed through his thoughts.
"Raxor," he repeated quietly. "Of the Salamanders."
There was something in his voice then, something softer, almost hopeful.
He turned back toward Agemman.
"My son," he said. "Is he here?"
Agemman did not answer right away.
For a long moment, the Ultramarine simply stood there, his expression tightening as he searched for the right words. Then, slowly, he bowed his head.
"My Lord…" he began carefully. "Raxor was killed only hours ago. He fell in battle, protecting vital personnel of the Imperium."
Vulkan stood completely still.
The chaos of the city beyond the window seemed to fade as the reality of what had just been said sank in. A son of his had lived, fought, and died in a place far beyond the Imperium he knew, and he had not been there to stand beside him.
For several long moments, Vulkan said nothing.
Then, slowly, a single tear traced a path down his cheek.
Behind him, Agemman straightened slightly, as though bracing himself before speaking again. "My lord… there is more you should know," he said, choosing each word with deliberate care. "Maximus and Sebastian are already on their way back to Mandalore. They departed shortly after the engagement, and by all estimates, they will arrive within the hour… with Raxor's body."
"I see," Vulkan said at last, his voice low, and now carrying a sadness that had not been there before.
Agemman inclined his head, then continued, knowing there was little comfort to be offered and much that still needed to be said. "There are… many things that have changed, my Lord. This Imperium is not the one you remember. You will see things that may not make sense at first, decisions that may seem… unconventional." He hesitated briefly, searching for the right phrasing, before continuing more firmly. "But all of it, every action taken, every order given, has been done under the authority of the Emperor Himself. That much, I can assure you without hesitation."
At that, Vulkan finally turned.
His eyes settled upon Agemman. "Explain," he said.
Agemman did not falter under the weight of that gaze. "This world… this entire splinter of the Imperium, is under the leadership of one individual above all others. She is not of our universe, my Lord, but a native to this one. Her name is Nira." He paused, watching for a reaction, and though Vulkan's expression remained controlled, there was a flicker of recognition there. "She holds the title of Imperial Grand Regent," Agemman continued, "and she has been entrusted with complete authority over this Imperium in the Emperor's stead."
Vulkan's brow furrowed slightly.
"A native," he repeated, the word carrying a quiet weight of skepticism, though not outright rejection. "And she commands the Imperium?"
"Yes, my lord," Agemman replied. "By the Emperor's will. The details of their arrangement are… not fully known to all, but it is understood that some form of pact was made. Since that moment, she has led us in establishing and maintaining what you see now. Without her, it is unlikely any of this would still stand."
Vulkan's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, weighing the truth of what he was being told. It was a strange thing, to awaken into a reality where the Imperium was fractured, displaced into another universe, and led by one who had not been born of it. Stranger still that the Emperor, his father, the Master of Mankind, had allowed such a thing to come to pass.
Vulkan exhaled slowly, his eyes drifting once more toward the window, though this time his thoughts were sharper, more focused despite the lingering gaps in his memory. "Nira…" he murmured, the name stirring something deeper within him, something just out of reach. "I have heard this name before."
Then Agemman straightened slightly, his tone shifting as he moved from explanation to action. "If you wish it, my Lord, I can take you to her now. The Grand Regent will undoubtedly want to meet you as soon as possible, and… it may be best for you to hear certain things directly from her."
Vulkan was silent for a moment longer, his thoughts turning inward as he considered everything he had been told, the loss of his son, the fractured state of the Imperium, the Emperor's unseen hand guiding it all through an unfamiliar figure. There were so many questions, but he understood, as he always had, that answers were rarely found in stillness.
At last, he gave a single, slow nod.
"Take me to her," he said.
=== Nira ===
Padmé lay motionless upon the medicae table, her features serene in a way that felt almost cruel, as though the galaxy had stolen her breath and left behind only a hollow, perfect stillness. For a long moment, Nira could not move, her arms wrapped tightly around the two infants as if they alone were tethering her to the present, their small, fragile bodies trembling against her chest as their cries filled the void their mother had left behind.
Her throat tightened, and when she tried to speak, the words nearly failed her.
"…Take care of her," Nira said at last, her voice low and unsteady. She did not look at the medicae as she spoke, could not bring herself to meet their eyes. "Prepare her… for burial. With honor. With everything she deserves."
There was a quiet murmur of acknowledgement behind her as she forced herself to turn, to step away from the table, though each movement felt heavier than the last, as if her body itself resisted leaving Padmé behind.
The doors parted before her, and she stumbled out into the corridor.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the weight she had been holding back began to crack. She braced herself against the nearest wall, her shoulder pressing into the cold surface as her breathing faltered, uneven and shallow. The infants cried louder now, their tiny voices sharp and desperate, cutting through the silence with a rawness that made her chest ache.
"I know… I know…" she whispered, gently rocking them up and down.
She shifted them carefully, trying to cradle them closer, rocking them gently in her arms as she began to move again. "You're alright… I've got you… you're safe…" The words came softly, instinctively, but they did little to quiet their cries. They were too young to understand comfort, too newly brought into a galaxy that had already taken from them more than it had given.
Behind her, four figures followed in silence.
The towering Grey Knights moved protectively behind her, their silver armor gleaming faintly beneath the corridor lights.
Nira took another breath, trying to steady herself, but the sound of the infants crying began to fray what little composure she had left. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted her hold on them, her movements growing more frantic as she tried to soothe them, to offer something, anything, that might bring them peace.
It wasn't working.
Her vision blurred.
"…I need…" she began, her voice breaking slightly. She turned her head just enough to glance at the warriors behind her. "One of you, go find Sienn please. Bring her to me."
One of the Grey Knights inclined his head once, then broke away from the group, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor as he moved, leaving the remaining three to continue their silent vigil at her back.
The cries in her arms did not fade, their small bodies restless, searching for something she could not give them.
"I'm trying…" she murmured again, more to herself now, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm trying…"
Time blurred.
It could have been minutes or longer before the sound of approaching footsteps broke through the haze, and when Nira looked up, she saw Sienn.
The Twi'lek's eyes were red and swollen from crying, but moved quickly toward her,
Without a word, Nira shifted one of the infants into her arms.
Sienn took the child gently, cradling it with care. She began to murmur softly to the child, her voice low and soothing, and though the cries did not cease entirely, they softened, just slightly, just enough to ease the sharpest edge of the chaos.
Nira exhaled shakily, her shoulders sagging ever so slightly as she adjusted her hold on the remaining infant, her free hand rising briefly to brush at her eyes, though the tears refused to fully stop.
For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the three of them.
Then it shattered again.
"Grand Regent."
Nira turned, her expression tightening almost instantly as a uniformed messenger approached, slowing only when he reached a respectful distance. He bowed his head, though there was a clear urgency in his posture that he could not fully conceal.
"My lady," he said, "the Primarch… Vulkan… has awakened. He is requesting an audience with you."
For a moment, Nira simply stared at him, her mind struggling to process what he had just said, as though it were yet another impossible weight being placed upon an already breaking foundation.
"Vulkan… is awake?" she repeated.
"Yes, my lady," the messenger replied. "He is currently within the citadel and—"
"That's…" Nira exhaled slowly, her eyes closing briefly as she tried to steady herself, though the timing of it all felt almost cruel. Of all moments, of all possible times, this was when a Primarch chose to return to the world.
Her grip tightened slightly around the child in her arms.
"…of course he is," she murmured under her breath.
For a brief moment, she said nothing more, her thoughts racing, torn between grief, responsibility, and the relentless demands of the position she held. Then, slowly, she straightened, forcing a measure of composure back into herself, even as the sorrow remained etched into every line of her expression.
"I will meet him," she said at last. "In my office."
The messenger bowed his head again. "At once, my lady."
As he turned and departed, Nira remained where she was for a moment longer, the cries of the infant in her arms finally beginning to soften into quieter whimpers as exhaustion began to take hold.
She looked down at the child, her expression faltering once more.
===
By the time Nira reached the doors to her office, Luke, had finally begun to settle, his cries softening into uneven breaths, though every so often he stirred. Beside her, Sienn cradled Leia with a gentler rhythm, murmuring softly.
The doors parted with a low hum.
Vulkan stood at the right side of the chamber, his immense form impossible to ignore as he looked out across the city, Agemman by his side.
The room itself was quiet and almost bare save for a table and a few chairs.
For a brief moment, no one spoke.
Then, the air began to shift, a subtle distortion rippling outward from no discernible source, like heat rising from unseen flames. Light bent until a figure began to take shape within the room, not fully solid, yet undeniably present.
Golden wings, radiant even in their ghostly form.
"…Brother," Sanguinius said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that no death could strip away. "Tell me… is it truly you? Are you awake?"
For the first time since Nira had entered, Vulkan's composure broke.
Shock flickered across his features, as he stared at the figure before him. "Sanguinius…" he breathed, the name carrying disbelief and hope. "How…?"
He did not finish the question.
Sanguinius crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat and pulled him into an embrace.
And Vulkan, Primarch, son of the Emperor, lord of the XVIII Legion, returned it without hesitation.
For a moment, the weight of war, death, and time itself seemed to fall away, leaving only two brothers who had thought each other lost.
"How are you here?" Vulkan asked quietly, his voice lower now, though still touched by that same disbelief.
Sanguinius pulled back slightly, a faint, almost bittersweet smile touching his lips as he gestured lightly toward Nira and Sienn. "It is… a long story, brother. One that does not belong to me alone."
Vulkan followed the gesture.
And then his expression changed.
His gaze settled upon Sienn, upon the unmistakable features of a Xeno, and in an instant, the warmth that had just filled the room hardened.
"A xeno," he said, his voice no longer soft, but edged with iron. "What is a xeno doing here?"
Sienn did not respond.
Her grip on Leia tightened slightly, her expression lowering just a fraction, though she said nothing, as though she had heard such words too many times to be surprised by them anymore.
"That 'xeno,'" Nira answered, her voice firm despite the exhaustion beneath it, "is your adopted granddaughter."
Vulkan's gaze snapped back to her.
Nira met it without hesitation, her expression unwavering as she continued. "Raxor treated her as his own daughter. She stood at his side, fought beside him, and lived under his protection."
For a moment, Vulkan said nothing, the weight of her words settling over him as the name of his son echoed once more in his mind. The hardness in his expression faltered, then slowly, it gave way.
His gaze returned to Sienn. "…Then I have wronged you," he said at last, his voice low, carrying a sincerity that could not be mistaken. "You have my apology."
Sienn hesitated, clearly caught between hurt and understanding, before she gave a small nod. "It's… fine," she said quietly. "I'm used to it. The other Space Marines… they don't exactly hide what they think."
Vulkan's jaw tightened slightly, guilt flickering across his features, though he did not linger on it. Instead, he turned his attention once more toward Nira.
She had begun to gently bounce Luke again, the child stirring slightly in her arms, small sounds of discomfort escaping him as she tried to soothe him back into sleep.
"You are Nira," Vulkan said. "I am told you are the leader of this… Imperium. That you hold this authority through some form of pact with my father."
Nira nodded once. "That's correct."
Vulkan studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp and searching. "Then I would hear the terms of this pact."
For a brief moment, Nira said nothing.
Her eyes lowered slightly, her attention flickering to the child in her arms before she exhaled slowly. "Some parts of the agreement are… not mine to share," she said carefully. "There are conditions, details that remain between myself and the Emperor. But the broad terms…" She lifted her gaze again, meeting Vulkan's eyes directly. "Those I can tell you."
She shifted her weight slightly, still rocking Luke as she continued. "In exchange for my service, for building and maintaining this Imperium in a universe not our own, your father granted me full authority over it. Absolute command, in his stead."
Vulkan's expression remained unreadable.
"And more than that," Nira added, "he required to send each of the loyalist Primarchs here. So they could heal, free of the corruption of the Warp. He has already done so with you… and with Sanguinius."
At that, Vulkan's eyes flickered briefly toward his brother.
"The rift between our realities has been sealed," Nira continued. "But part of the agreement required that we build something new. A way to bridge the two universes."
She reached the desk and pressed a series of commands.
A hologram rose into existence above the surface. It depicted a structure unlike anything of the Imperium's design, yet bearing elements of both worlds, its core centered around a massive gate that pulsed faintly with restrained energy.
"This," Nira said quietly, "is project Gateway."
She glanced briefly at the others before continuing. "It is one of the most closely guarded secrets in existence. No one beyond this room knows of it. Not the wider Imperium, not even most of my inner circle."
Agemman's posture stiffened slightly.
"We've brought together scientists, engineers, minds from both universes," Nira went on. "They've been working in complete isolation, at a secured location. When it's finished… this gate will allow controlled transport between realities."
"It will be ready within the coming months."
No one spoke.
The weight of what she had just revealed settled over the room.
Vulkan was the first to respond.
"All of my brothers…" he said slowly, the words measured, as though testing their reality. "They will be sent here?"
"Yes," Nira replied.
"How?" Vulkan asked, his gaze sharpening. "By what means does the Emperor accomplish this?"
Nira exhaled softly, glancing down as Luke stirred again, fussing lightly. She resumed gently bouncing him, her tone quieter now. "I don't know," she admitted. "He didn't tell me how. Only that he would."
Vulkan's gaze settled on the children. "Who are they?"
She looked down at Luke, then across to Leia in Sienn's arms, her expression softening in a way that contrasted everything else in the room.
"These…" she said quietly, "are the children your son gave his life to protect."
"Would you like to hold them?" she asked.
Vulkan did not hesitate.
"Yes. I would," he said, his voice softer now at the mention of his son.
He extended both hands.
Carefully, Nira placed Luke into his right hand, guiding the infant securely against him, while Sienn stepped forward and placed Leia into his left. The contrast of a Primarch holding two fragile, newborn lives with a care that spoke of something far older than war.
And then a presence, vast and immeasurable, pressed gently against Vulkan's mind, and in that instant, understanding flooded him.
He saw it all, the fall of worlds, the rise of this new Imperium, the battles fought in shadows and flame, the choices made in desperation and defiance.
He saw the Emperor, and knew the truth of Nira's words.
Vulkan stood there, unmoving, the children still cradled in his arms, his expression no longer one of confusion or doubt.
He understood everything now. Understood the Emperor's grand design. And as Vulkan looked down at the two infants in his hands, he began to weep at its beauty.
===
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