The silence in the medical bay was so heavy that you could hear the air itself humming through the ventilation grids.
First Captain Ezekyle Abaddon veteran of a thousand warzones, terror of the Great Crusade, and imposing commander of the Sons of Horus stood entirely paralyzed, his eyes desperately trying to process the image in front of him.
Sitting atop the massive stone surgical slab was a little girl with a bob cut, midnight-black hair, and bewildered, piercing black eyes. She was practically drowning in Horus Lupercal's legendary armor, the massive shoulder pauldrons pinning her tiny arms down like lead weights.
She blinked up at us.
"F... Father?" Abaddon choked out, his voice cracking slightly.
The small girl looked down at her tiny hands, then up at Abaddon, and finally at me. Her expression twisted into a mixture of absolute rage and profound indignity.
"Mother? Abaddon?" she—he?—said. Except, instead of a booming baritone voice that could command entire battlefleets, it came out as a squeaky, indignant treble.
I cleared my throat and took a cautious step back. "Ah."
"So...* I thought to myself. *When I cut out the corrupted chunk of his soul... the replacement soul patch I grabbed from my inventory... was Edmin from that one game."
"Mother!" The mini-Warmaster turned her glare onto me, trying desperately to puff out her chest—an effort completely stymied by the two tons of adamantium plate weighing her down. "What did you do to me?! Why am I in this wretchedly diminutive form?! Why do I keep having strange memories?!"
"Well, the good news is you're not tainted by Chaos," I said cheerfully, giving her a quick thumbs-up. "The bad news is... nothing!"
"This cannot be! This is an outrage!" Mini-Horus flailed her arms, but only succeeded in toppling backward on the slab, her legs kicking helplessly in the air like an upturned beetle. "Abaddon! Help your Primarch up this instant!"
Abaddon took half a step forward, completely at a loss. "My Lady... is... is he—she—okay?"
"Physically? One hundred percent healed! Not a trace of Warp taint left," I said, putting my hands on my hips and nodding with extreme confidence. "Mentally? Well, she's got a few integrated memories from a completely different person, but honestly, that builds character... I think."
Before Abaddon could process that terrifying statement, the heavy doors of the medical bay hissed open again.
"Mother! Is it done?"
Deep Sky, Admire Aura, and Little Amapola burst into the room with weapons drawn, followed closely by a handful of my Agnes-personality Uma Musume Space Marines. The horse-eared, heavily armored girls swept the room, their eyes locking instantly onto the tiny girl struggling on the stone table.
"Target identified," Little Amapola deadpanned, raising her bolter. "Is this a hostile Warp entity disguised as a child?"
"Wait, no!" I intervened, waving my hands frantically. "That's Horus!"
The room went dead silent again.
The Uma Marines stared at Mini-Horus. Mini-Horus, currently stuck on her back, glared back at them with pure, unadulterated hatred.
Slowly, the eyes of the Agnes Marines began to glow with a dangerous, mad-scientist hunger.
"An anomaly..." one of the Agnes Marines whispered, pulling a giant syringe filled with glowing purple liquid from her belt pouch.
"A Primarch soul compressed into a juvenile female vessel... The research potential will be *fascinating*."
"Fascinating!" another shouted, pulling out a clipboard and a pair of measuring calipers. "We must test her! We must measure her head-to-toe ratio—wait, let's open her up!"
"No! Let's dress her in pretty clothes!"
Mini-Horus froze, her eyes widening as she realized the sheer level of insanity facing her. "Stay back! Keep those wretched equine mutants away from me! Abaddon, I command you to purge these madwomen!"
Abaddon looked at the two-thousand-seven-hundred-strong army of hyper-aggressive, speed-obsessed horse-girls standing right outside the bay door, then looked back at his bite-sized Warmaster.
For the first time in his terrifying life, First Captain Abaddon looked genuinely terrified. "My Lady... perhaps we should retreat to the flagship's inner sanctum to... discuss strategy?"
"Good idea," I said smoothly. I reached down, scooped Mini-Horus right out of her oversized armor, and tucked her under my arm like a football.
"Unhand me, Mother! I am the Warmaster! You cannot hold me like a bag of grox-meat! What would my sons think of me!" she shrieked, flailing her tiny boots.
"Shh, it's okay, little Edmin-Horus. We're going to get you a nice glass of warm milk and a custom suit of Power Armor," I said soothingly, turning back toward the exit.
But as we stepped out into the hallway, a squad of Sons of Horus spotted us.
"Abaddon! Who is that?" one of the Astartes barked.
"That's Horus," Abaddon replied numbly.
The Marine stared for a second before his eyes widened in horror. "...QUICK! THE LADY IS KIDNAPPING HORUS!"
"RUN, ABADDON!" I yelled.
I bolted down the corridor, initiating a chaotic fleet-wide pursuit as my Uma Marines and the Sons of Horus chased us in a complete frenzy.
An hour later, after explaining the situation, calming everyone down, and preventing a full-scale civil war...
"Deep Sky, prep the Tachyon," I commanded, adjusting my coat. "We're setting sail for Prospero."
Deep Sky blinked. "Prospero, Mother? Magnus's homeworld?"
I grinned, a mischievous spark dancing in my eyes. "Yes. We will visit him, and Horus, you will bring your sons with us."
I glanced over at Mini-Horus, who was still being held securely.
"Mother!!! Unhand me!!!" she demanded, kicking her legs.
"Later! Once I tell you what's about to happen and maybe fix your mind a bit," I replied smoothly.
--
Meanwhile, on Prospero...
"Mhm? Horus and Agnes are requesting an audience?" Magnus mused aloud, leaning back on his throne. "Strange for Horus to request an audience with me... but Agnes, I would certainly like to talk with her."
He paused as visions flashed through his mind.
"But... the dark future... Wait! I can warn them, and they can tell Father what I know!"
Magnus turned toward the doorway and called out. "Ahriman! You are accompanying me to greet Agnes and Warmaster Horus."
"Yes, Father," Ahriman replied, stepping forward with a bow.
--
Meanwhile, aboard the Tachyon...
"Okay, let's see... Belt is here, and the 'Magnus-Think-Before-You-Do-Something' Belt is right here... I think I have everything," I muttered to myself, checking my inventory before looking over at Mini-Horus.
*Cute... But I hope Big E won't mind, right?* I thought, suddenly remembering to distribute anti-Psyker protection gear to everyone on board just in case.
--
Meanwhile, deep within the Warp...
"Fuck!!! I hate her!!!! She's ruining everything!!!!" Tzeentch screeched, aggressively throwing a cosmic temper tantrum.
"Did Tzeentch just get beaten by a mortal?" Khorne asked, looking up from his skull throne.
"I think he did," Nurgle chimed in, chuckling softly.
"Hahaha! I like her! I REALLY like her!" Slaanesh laughed, watching the madness unfold.
"First it was Erebus, now it's Magnus! Arghhhhh!!!!! I HATE YOU!!!!" Tzeentch roared, violently flipping a table.