A completely meaningless farce, and two corpses that thoroughly deserved their fate.
"These local Baalites are unbelievably rude!"
Fulgrim's little face was cold with anger. Every day the three of them worked tirelessly for the people of tribe, hunting fire scorpions, driving away mutants, clearing nearby threats, yet they had actually attempted to murder their father!
'Unforgivable.'
Sanguinius gently tugged at Fulgrim's feathers, his voice soft and but earnest.
"Brother, you shouldn't blame the many for the mistakes of a few."
Fulgrim's feathers puffed up instantly.
"Don't pretend to be fair here! I'm not blaming them, you're accusing me!"
"But… I'm not accusing you," A film of moisture appeared in Sanguinius' eyes, his little mouth pouting pitifully.
'You're the one acting wronged now?!'
Fuming, Fulgrim reached out and grabbed Sanguinius's cheeks, pulling them outward.
"You like acting innocent? Then let me vent my anger, don't you dare dodge!"
Sanguinius blinked his eyes watery, his voice trembling with a faint sob.
"If this can make brother feel better... you can pull as long as you want..."
That only made Fulgrim angrier. Instead of pinching, he began rubbing his brother's face vigorously.
"You bratty little brother, you're driving me crazy!"
Caelan leaned back in his chair, making no move to intervene.
This was just the twins' daily squabble. Fulgrim was always completely handled by Sanguinius, nominally the older brother, but in practice the younger.
Sanguinius's subtle scheming was practically unbeatable. Only pure straightforward personalities could counter him, and among the Primarchs, that basically meant Vulkan's kindness, Dorn's stubbornness, Guilliman's earnestness, and Russ's airheadness.
Fulgrim… would probably be bullied by Sanguinius for life.
Caelan couldn't help him and shouldn't.
"Fulgrim. Sanguinius."
The moment Caelan spoke, the twins who had been squabbling instantly fell silent. Their wings fluttered lightly as they obediently flew back before their father.
Caelan's voice was gentle and low. "You are six months old now. Your brothers, at six months old, were at least adolescents, and some had even unified their homeworlds."
Fulgrim raised his little face.
"Dad… do you want us to grow up faster?"
Suddenly Sanguinius threw himself into Caelan's arms, his muffled voice trembling.
"Dad… do you not want us anymore?"
"How could that be?" Caelan gently combed the angel's soft golden hair. "I will never force you to grow up.But unifying your homeworld is necessary. Your homeworld has too few people. If Baal isn't unified soon, I'm afraid we won't even be able to gather enough people for recruitment."
Baal's population was truly tiny.
Other Primarch homeworlds had populations in the hundreds of millions; even Barbarus and Fenris had several million inhabitants.
Baal Secundus, counting mutants and pure-blood tribes together, had at most five hundred thousand people, and fewer than one hundred thousand pure-bloods. The population was an absolute disadvantage.
If they followed the original history and exterminated all mutants, leaving only the pure-bloods, it would be a waste, because the Ninth Legion's gene-seed had been designed from the beginning for mutants.
Although Space Marines from different Legions might seem not too different, the gene-seed of all twenty Legions inherited the traits of their respective Primarchs.
The differences between Legions were most evident in the recruitment standards the Emperor set for each.
The Third Legion recruited the eldest sons of Europa's nobility.
The Eighth Legion recruited criminals and their descendants from subterranean prisons.
The Fourteenth Legion recruited the famously resilient Albia.
The Thirteenth Legion recruited war orphans from annihilated enemies.
And the First Legion had no specific characteristics; their recruits could come from any source.
Such distinctive recruitment standards,the Emperor didn't choose them randomly, he had prepared deliberately.
While other Legions recruited the finest new blood, nobles, and champions from conquered techno-barbarian tribes, the Ninth Legion's new recruits took in entire hordes of mutants.
Because the Ninth Legion's gene-seed displayed astonishing inclusivity!
To other Legions, mutants were waste.
To the Ninth Legion, any mutant had a chance to become part them.
No matter how deformed, extra limbs, organ mutations, even barely human in shape, after implantation they would be remade into beautiful, noble, angelic warriors.
Although the Ninth Legion's inclusivity only gave mutants a chance and didn't significantly increase the survival rate, it was still the only chance for mutants to attain salvation.
Baal's mutants were hideous in appearance, but they, like the pure-strains, were victims of the cataclysm.
Caelan never discriminated against mutants.
If they sought redemption, he would give them redemption.
Still, the final decision belonged to Sanguinius and Fulgrim. This was their homeworld.
Fulgrim suddenly spoke, "If numbers are short, I can give all of mine to Sanguinius!"
Sanguinius blinked his eyes, "Why?"
"Because I'm the older brother!" Fulgrim lifted his chin proudly.
Sanguinius's eyes immediately shimmered and his little hands grabbed Fulgrim's wing.
"Thank you, Brother. You're the best."
"I-it's not for you!" Fulgrim turned away blushing, but didn't pull away the wing Sanguinius was holding.
"Classic tsundere," Caelan said with helpless amusement.
He hadn't expected Fulgrim to be this type, tsunderes were exactly the kind Sanguinius' mischief would dominate forever.
'Son… it's not that your dad won't help. but with that attitude I genuinely can't save you from this.'
Caelan asked, "If you give Baal to Sanguinius, where will your Legion recruit?"
Fulgrim's purple eyes brightened. He planted his hands on his hips proudly.
"Terra, of course! When my brothers recruit on their homeworlds, Terra will belong to me alone!"
Caelan laughed and stroked his silver hair.
Sanguinius raised his hand seriously, "Then I'll recruit from the entire galaxy."
"Why?" Caelan asked.
Sanguinius lightly folded his wings, his expression serious. "My brothers can recruit from any world. But those abandoned mutants... only I can give them salvation."
"And Baal has two moons. Brother and I can each take one!"
"But Baal Primus probably has no survivors."
"Then I'll migrate people from Baal Secundus."
"Then which do you want, Primus or Secundus?"
Fulgrim puffed up his chest, "I'll take whichever one he doesn't choose!"
Sanguinius blinked, "Then… I'll take Baal Secundus."
"Then I'll take Baal Primus!"
"And Baal itself?" Caelan asked.
Fulgrim and Sanguinius spoke in unison: "Half each!"
A tiny world with two Primarchs, few planets could ever dream of such fortune.
Not enough population? Then have more children.
As for Chemos losing Fulgrim, that was Chemos's loss, not the Primarch's.
Blame the Eldar.
Fulgrim tugged on Warp's sleeve, looking up with eager eyes.
"Dad… what is my Legion like?"
"The Third Legion, like the First, was held in high favor by the Emperor. They were frequently entrusted with diplomatic duties, escorting envoys and safeguarding Imperial emissaries during compliances."
"During one such ceremony of planetary submission, rebels launched a sudden assault upon the Emperor. Warriors of the Third Legion threw themselves into the attack, shielding Him with their own bodies and suffering grievous wounds from vortex weapons to ensure His survival."
"In recognition of their loyalty and sacrifice, the Emperor granted the Third Legion the right to bear the Imperial Aquila.
"In the early Great Crusade, the Legion's numbers ranked among the greatest. Yet its decline would come not from defeat in battle, but from catastrophe within."
"Two gene-seed crises nearly annihilated the Legion."
"Originally, the gene-seed stocks of all twenty Legions were stored within the vaults of Terra. When a secondary repository was established on Luna, a massive consignment of the Third Legion's gene-seed vanished during transit under unexplained circumstances."
"Soon after, remnants of the Selenar genecult infiltrated and contaminated the Legion's remaining stores. The result was the Blight."
"Warriors afflicted by the Blight suffered the slow failure of their implanted organs, atrophy, degeneration, and eventual death. Worst of all, there existed no reliable means to identify which gene-seeds carried the corruption. The Legion could only wait for symptoms to appear, then grant their brothers a merciful execution to spare them prolonged suffering. The waiting was more agonizing than the killing."
"This continued until the rise of Fabius Bile."
"A prodigious Apothecary, Bile dissected and studied countless victims of the Blight. From their remains he devised a method of detection, allowing the Legion to begin systematic purification. Infected warriors were identified and executed without hesitation to halt the spread."
"All but one."
"Bile himself was infected, yet he concealed the truth. Convinced only he could discover a cure, he exchanged his gene-sample with that of a healthy battle-brother, condemning the other warrior to death in his place."
"By the time the purge was complete, the Legion had been reduced to mere hundreds. The Blight's immediate influence had been eliminated, and they needed only the return of their Primarch, you, to harvest pure gene-seed and rebuild their strength."
"But the curse had not truly ended."
"Bile's research revealed a darker truth: the virus released by the Luna Gene-Cult was merely a trigger. The real cause lay in a fatal flaw within the Legion's gene-seed itself. The corruption had not created the weakness, it had exposed it."
"If that flaw remained unresolved, the Third Legion would forever stand on the brink of extinction. Should the Blight erupt again, the Legion would be destroyed utterly… and even a Primarch might not escape its grasp."
Fulgrim lowered his eyes.
"So… like the Ninth Legion's Red Thirst?"
"Yes," Caelan said. "All Legions are similar."
Every Legion had mutations, the Third Legion's Blight and the Ninth Legion's Red Thirst were simply the most prominent and dangerous. Similar danger included the Sixth Legion's Canis Helix and the Fifteenth Legion's flesh-change.
Only the First Legion was completely stable.
Suddenly Sanguinius looked up.
"Dad… could Nurgle be responsible?"
Caelan was even taken aback for a moment. "Huh?"
The little angel counted on his fingers.
"The most dangerous mutations all belong to multiples of three: Third, Sixth, Ninth, Fifteenth. Four Legions. Three plus four equals seven. Isn't the culprit obvious?"
Caelan stared at him. "When did you start believing numerology?!"
Sanguinius tilted his head innocently. "But… doesn't it seem accurate?"
'Remarkably consistent, Mortarion is the Seventh. Sanguinius the Ninth. The pattern does seem… deliberate.'
If he himself were Sanguinius, he might already believe it.
He paused, frowning slightly. "But if you calculate it that way… it does line up."
'Nurgle is the ancient Warp god of rot, plague, and decay. Genetic diseases are, by definition, diseases. And the Legions plagued by the most dangerous genetic instabilities all bear numbers divisible by three. Nurgle was the third Chaos God to fully wake, if not him, then who else could it be?'
'Following that reasoning, the Twelfth and the Eighteenth might also fall under Nurgle's shadow.'
'The Twelfth Legion's mutation manifests as uncontrollable aggression and bloodlust.'
'The Eighteenth Legion displays extreme genetic mutability, some variations benign, others catastrophically malignant.'
'By contrast, Legions with prime-number designations tend to exhibit only mild or beneficial mutations.'
'The Second and Eleventh were erased from history, so they could be set aside for now.'
'The Third is prime but also tied to the number three, it carries the Blight, though the disease requires a trigger to manifest. Without one, they remain stable.'
'The Fifth Legion's gene-seed is exceptionally stable. The Thirteenth is famed for purity and only minor variations.'
'The Seventh produces stoic, taciturn warriors.'
'The Seventeenth inspires intense reverence for authority, yet as long as one embodies that authority, their loyalty is absolute.''
'The Nineteenth turns hair black and skin pale, hardly a malign mutation, and even grants an unusual talent for psychic concealment.'
The more Caelan considered it, the more plausible it seemed.
Then he went quiet.
'…This was bad.'
'I'm starting to believe in numerology.'
Sanguinius asked, "Am I right, Dad?"
"…Maybe just coincidence."
Sanguinius tapped his chin.
"Then which Warp god governs coincidence?"
Caelan went silent again.
Just like when he found Fulgrim.
Those Aeldar who sent Fulgrim certainly didn't intend to screw him over. But Fulgrim's landing site was vastly different from Sanguinius'.
Was that also a coincidence?
What coincidences are there in the Warhammer universe?
'It must be all Tzeentch's doing!'
Compared to him, Slaanesh and Khorne almost seemed pleasant, at least they were straightforward.
Fulgrim suddenly blinked. "Weren't we discussing how to unify Baal?"
Sanguinius smiled angelically.
"Unifying a world is simple. If they refuse, defeat them. Anyone who won't submit, we Gandalf them."
"Reasonable," Fulgrim nodded seriously.
Caelan couldn't really refute that.
Conquest was indeed simple: big enough fists solved most problems.
Caelan spread out the map Albert had brought.
"Then… where will you begin?"
He would not interfere once the conquest started.
The twins raised their heads simultaneously. Gold eyes met purple.
Both small hands pointed at the same place.
"Here."
A large red X marked it, danger. Above it, an inverted triangle, mutant territory.
The Crimson Canyon, the largest nearby mutant settlement.
Fulgrim spoke with childish yet regal authority:
"Dad, please inform Chief Albert. Gather the warriors, we will reclaim our homeland."
"As you command, my son," Caelan said, suddenly kneeling with a hand over his chest, barely suppressing a smile.
"As you command... my brother!" Sanguinius copied him, lowering his childish voice before playfully raising the final tone.
Fulgrim flushed bright red.
"You're making fun of me!"
Caelan maintained a serious expression
"What do you mean? Aren't you my son?"
"Yes…"
"And didn't you just command me?"
"I said please! That was a request!"
Sanguinius said innocently,
"But one can also say 'as you command' to a request."
"If you keep this up, I'll-I'll-" Fulgrim's face flushed red, but he couldn't utter the threat.
It wasn't that he didn't know how to threaten, but that he didn't dare.
Sanguinius blinked. "You'll what?"
"I'll pull your cheeks!"
Fulgrim lunged, grabbing Sanguinius's face. But Sanguinius immediately grabbed his in return.
"Ow! Why are you pulling mine?!"
"You never said I couldn't fight back!"
"Let go first!"
"You first!"
"I'm the older brother!"
"Shouldn't older brothers yield to younger ones?"
"You disrespect your elder!"
"You don't care for the young!"
They rolled into a ball, tugging each other's cheeks stubbornly.
Caelan could stop them with a word.
He didn't.
Two angels fighting, baby angels, was a once-in-a-lifetime sight.
When they grew up, this would never happen again.
He decided: Someday, he would definitely make Angron record this precious memory.
....
Name Correction?
As it turns out, Leon actually has a canonical counterpart. However, the literal transliteration of the raws didn't point to his canon name, so I changed it to Leon. His proper canonical name is Jago Sevatarion. Should I keep Leon in the later chapters as is or change it to cannon?