Chapter 10: A Brother's Counsel
Haunted by the devastation on Cygnus Prime and wrestling with the conflicting ideals that threatened to tear him apart, Ferrus Manus knew he needed guidance. He couldn't confide in his Iron Council, who were already questioning his leadership. He couldn't turn to Rogal Dorn, who would simply dismiss his doubts as weakness. He needed someone who could understand his inner turmoil, someone who possessed both wisdom and empathy.
He chose Lorgar, Primarch of the Word Bearers.
Lorgar was known for his deep faith, his philosophical inclinations, and his compassionate nature. He was a scholar, a poet, and a theologian, as comfortable debating the nature of divinity as he was commanding his Legion on the battlefield. While some saw him as naive or overly idealistic, Ferrus recognized in Lorgar a genuine desire to understand the universe and humanity's place within it.
He sent a message to Lorgar, requesting a private audience. Lorgar, intrigued by the unexpected request, readily agreed.
Ferrus arrived on Lorgar's flagship, the Fidelitas Lex, his mood somber. He found Lorgar waiting for him in his private study, surrounded by stacks of ancient texts and religious artifacts.
"Ferrus, my brother," Lorgar greeted him with a warm smile. "It is an honor to receive you. What troubles you that brings you to my door?"
Ferrus hesitated, unsure of how to begin. "I am… struggling, Lorgar," he confessed. "I am torn between my duty to the Emperor and my own… conscience."
He proceeded to recount the events of Cygnus Prime, describing the difficult choices he had faced, the devastating consequences of his decisions, and the lingering doubts that haunted him. He spoke of the legacy of Tony Stark, of the values he had learned on Earth, and of the conflict between those values and the brutal realities of the Great Crusade.
Lorgar listened intently, his expression thoughtful. He didn't interrupt, didn't offer platitudes, didn't judge. He simply listened, absorbing Ferrus's words with an open mind and a compassionate heart.
When Ferrus had finished, Lorgar remained silent for a moment, contemplating the weight of his brother's burden.
"You are grappling with a fundamental question, Ferrus," he said finally. "The question of what it means to be human in a galaxy at war. You are torn between the desire for peace and the necessity of violence, between the ideals of compassion and the realities of conquest."
He paused, his gaze piercing. "But this is not a weakness, Ferrus. It is a strength. It is what makes you unique. It is what makes you… human."
He gestured to the books surrounding him. "We are not merely warriors, Ferrus. We are also philosophers, poets, and dreamers. We must strive to understand the universe, to find meaning in our existence, to create a better future for humanity."
He rose from his chair and approached Ferrus, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The Great Crusade is not just about conquest, Ferrus. It is about enlightenment. It is about bringing the light of knowledge and reason to the darkest corners of the galaxy. We must not lose sight of our ideals, even in the face of war."
Lorgar spoke of the Emperor's vision for humanity, a vision of a galaxy united under the banner of truth and reason. He spoke of the potential for human greatness, the capacity for love, compassion, and creativity. He spoke of the importance of faith, not in the dogmatic sense of the Purifiers, but in the belief in a better future, in the power of the human spirit to overcome adversity.
"You must embrace both sides of yourself, Ferrus," Lorgar said. "The warrior and the philosopher, the Primarch and the… man of iron. Use your strength to protect the weak, your intelligence to solve problems, and your compassion to heal wounds."
He smiled warmly. "Do not be afraid of your doubts, Ferrus. They are a sign that you are still searching, still learning, still growing. Embrace the questions, and let them guide you on your path."
Ferrus listened to Lorgar's words, feeling a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. He realized that Lorgar was right. He didn't have to choose between being a warrior and being a philosopher. He could be both. He could use his strength to protect the weak, his intelligence to solve problems, and his compassion to heal wounds.
He thanked Lorgar for his counsel, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. He knew that the path ahead would not be easy, but he was no longer afraid. He would embrace his doubts, learn from his mistakes, and strive to be the best leader he could be, both for the Iron Hands and for humanity as a whole.
As Ferrus prepared to leave, Lorgar offered him a parting gift: a small, intricately carved book, bound in iron and filled with Lorgar's own poetry and philosophical musings.
"Read this, Ferrus," Lorgar said. "Let it remind you of the ideals we strive for, even in the darkest of times."
Ferrus accepted the gift, his heart filled with gratitude. He knew that he would cherish this book, not just as a reminder of Lorgar's wisdom, but as a symbol of hope in a galaxy filled with war and despair.
He returned to his flagship, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. He was still Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Iron Hands, but he was also something more. He was a warrior, a philosopher, and a seeker of truth. And he would continue to fight for a better future, one world at a time.
End Chapter 10