Deep within the Hollow Earth, in the ring-shaped hall at the peak of the Hive Spire,
Caelan and Neoth sat together, watching the sunset from a chamber where the sun felt almost within reach.
"I'm not a god," Neoth said suddenly.
Caelan smiled faintly. "I believe you, at least, not yet."
The Emperor was not a god.
That needed to be emphasized again and again, at least, not now.
He could foresee the future, but not all of it.
Among the Primarchs who turned traitor, at least three of their downfalls had taken him by surprise: Horus, Magnus, and Fulgrim.
If he had foreseen Horus' betrayal, he would never have made him Warmaster.
He spent thirty years by Horus' side, perhaps hoping that love and kinship could stop the inevitable.
Had the Four Chaos Gods not poured their essence into that pastry of a man, Horus likely would never have turned.
Magnus, under Tzeentch's whispers, committed a grave mistake.
The Emperor knew it was a Chaos plot, yet still sent Russ to "bring Magnus back", proving he hadn't anticipated Magnus' defiance, nor Horus' alteration of his command that turned the mission into tragedy.
Fulgrim's Third Legion was the only one allowed to wear the Imperial Aquila.
That alone showed how much the Emperor favored him.
Yet even there, he miscalculated.
Neoth said softly, "I hope I never become one."
Caelan nodded. "I hope so too."
"Who's next?" Neoth asked.
"How should I know? It's not like I decide that," Caelan replied.
"Then who does?"
"Isn't it you?"
"No."
That answer surprised Caelan. If not the Emperor, then who?
Neoth said, "You should go back to Terra to watch the sunset."
"Terra doesn't have sunsets. Its sun never sets."
Neoth turned to him, expression solemn. "Is that a promise?"
His tone carried a weight that felt like life or death.
Caelan hesitated. He realized Neoth wasn't joking.
So instead of saying something flippant, he answered carefully,
"It's not a promise. Just… a small personal hope."
Neoth gazed at the setting artificial sun, choosing each word carefully.
Caelan exhaled. "Neoth, your humanity is overflowing."
"I am human. Humanity is the proof of that."
"If in your visions of the future even humanity becomes a luxury, then that only means the future we're building is far brighter than the one you fear."
"Then I hope you can keep that humanity forever."
In truth, the Emperor had never lacked humanity, but his mind was fractured.
He spent thirty years nurturing Horus, yet not a single second of compassion was given to Angron.
He granted Fulgrim's Legion the Aquila out of emotional understanding, yet gave no praise at all to the ever-dutiful Perturabo.
Caelan asked suddenly, "Am I spoiling them too much?"
He had learned from Neoth's canonical fate.
Those Primarchs who hated Neoth, Mortarion, Perturabo, Konrad, Angron, and Lorgar all betrayed him.
Those close to him, Horus, Fulgrim, Alpharius, and Magnus, also betrayed him.
Only the ones with lukewarm relationships stayed loyal.
Only Vulkan truly received his affection; the rest were merely subordinates.
Now, both Curze and Lorgar were on good terms with him.
Would that lead to disaster again?
Neoth frowned. "Why are you so conflicted?"
"You're calling me conflicted? You're the one who passed down that trait to your sons."
"Heh, pot calling the kettle black. We're the same."
"I call it 'shared ambition,' not mutual dysfunction."
"You mean shared neurosis?"
"…Fair. We both need to work on it."
"I already am," Neoth said, nodding. "You should too."
Then he turned to Lorgar, his golden eyes radiating divine light.
"We need to talk."
"Medea, keep Caelan company," Lorgar said before following Neoth out of the hall.
The two walked through a silver-gray metal corridor, footsteps echoing.
"Thank you," Lorgar said first.
Neoth stopped, meeting his son's gaze.
They looked like reflections, same face, same posture, same divine glint in their eyes.
Only a faint difference in the color of their pupils, like noon and sunset, set them apart.
Yet despite blood ties, an invisible gulf stood between them, suffocating in its silence.
"Thank you for not interrupting my sermon to the Legion," Lorgar added.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Neoth asked.
"I do." Lorgar's eyes burned bright. "Even well-meaning lies can't last forever.
Someone must face the darkness."
"When the lie is finally torn apart, humanity must be ready to fight back."
"If all goes well, lies may yet become truth."
"You said if."
"Did he tell you about your future?"
"If you mean the future where I worship you and betray you, it will never happen."
Neoth sighed. "So he told you everything."
"He's not like you," Lorgar said firmly. "I believe in him."
"What if one day he decides to kill me?"
"Then you deserve it."
Neoth chuckled. "And what if one day I decide to kill him?"
The air froze.
The silence was so heavy it felt like time itself had stopped.
"If he believes you can save humanity, then even if you kill him, he'll sacrifice himself willingly. But if you waste his faith, I will kill you!"
"And if I save humanity?"
"Then after your mission is done, I'll spend the rest of my life hunting you down!"
"You can't kill me."
"I know. You're not a god, but you're not human either."
"Still, I'll try. I'll never fail him."
Neoth sighed. "He taught you well. You truly have the courage to face the dark now."
"You'd better be speaking hypothetically."
"You need not worry," Neoth replied softly. "Even if I fall, he will remain."
"He thinks I am humanity's savior, yet it is he who holds the key to its future."
A shadow of sorrow crossed Neoth's eyes.
He had finally molded Lorgar into the man he wanted, and in doing so, lost his son forever.
But it was worth it.
He didn't need his sons to be loyal to him.
Only to humanity.
And Lorgar, in his heart, echoed the same: 'I may have lost a father… but it was worth it.'
"Where is he!?"
Lorgar's furious voice thundered through the ring hall, echoing under the metal dome.
He faced the sunset, glaring at Medea, who was kneeling.
"He's right- " she began, then faltered.
Her hand brushed her thigh. Caelan had said he was tired and wanted to nap.
There was no bed, so she let him rest his head on her synthetic lap.
And then, her quantum mind replayed every frame in a storm of data.
Right before Lorgar entered, Caelan had been there.
His warmth was still lingering on her leg.
No psychic ripple. No warp surge. Not even a change in air pressure.
He had simply vanished.
Neoth said, "His mission isn't over. Nor is yours, Lorgar."
"Where is he!?" Lorgar roared.
"I don't know," Neoth replied calmly. "I asked him who was next, but he never told me."
Lorgar froze. He had been there when Neoth asked that strange question.
At the time, it seemed trivial, but now, remembering the tone of the Emperor's voice
He realized: The Emperor had known this would happen.
"He disappeared like this on Nostramo, too?"
"Yes. But that time, your brother was with him until the very end."
Lorgar bowed his head, bitter. "I'm not as good as Curze."
"Your brother can see the future. You have your own strengths."
"Where is he now?"
"Nostramo. He's still trying to change his world."
"I want to see him."
"I've entrusted the fleet and the Legion to you. You don't need my permission."
"This isn't permission. It's a notice."
"Cold… so cold."
Caelan shivered. Psychic energy cocooned him instantly, shielding him from the freezing air.
He had woken from the cold.
One moment, he was resting on Medea's lap, the next, he was thrown into a wasteland of ice.
Endless white stretched around him, his breath freezing into crystals.
No life. No sound. Only snow and death.
"Well… at least the target's obvious now."
There were only two Primarch homeworlds of snow and ice, Fenris and Inwit.
So this time, it had to be either Russ or Dorn.
After dealing with would-be traitors like Curze and Lorgar, meeting a loyalist Primarch would be a nice change of pace.
The landscape was breathtakingly beautiful, and lethally cold.
The snow came up to his knees.
He channeled energy into his feet just to keep walking.
He didn't yet know which Primarch this world held, but he was already looking forward to it.
Russ had a good father, and Dorn a good grandfather.
Even without him, they would have grown into worthy men.
He wasn't here to replace their family, he was here to join it.
Not as a father, but as a mentor.
He just had to find the child first.
Then-
A massive wolf burst from the snow, jaws snapping for his throat.
Snow exploded around them.
CLANG!
A psychic pulse erupted inches from Caelan's neck.
The wolf's fangs struck invisible ice, sending agony through its skull.
It whimpered, teeth aching.
"A wolf, huh?" Caelan muttered.
Judging from its size, it was likely a Fenrisian predator.
The wolf leapt back, instincts screaming.
But before it could flee, Caelan's power froze it midair like a bug in amber.
A blue aura shimmered around it, revealing every strand of fur.
"Relax," Caelan said gently. "I'm not going to kill you."
He lifted it with psychic energy and noticed eight nipples under its fur.
"A mother, huh?" He smiled softly. "Tell me, have you found a human child?"
The wolf whimpered.
"He is… your child."
It couldn't speak well, but it was intelligent enough to communicate.
"So you have seen him. Take me to him."
"No food…" it murmured.
"I know you didn't eat."
"No food… dying…"
Caelan blinked. So it had attacked him to feed Russ.
He sighed. "I'll release you. Don't eat me. Go hunt."
The psychic bonds vanished.
The wolf tensed, then slowly lowered her head, pressing it into the snow before him.
"Go," Caelan said, patting her head.
She turned and bolted into the snowstorm, checking back to see if he followed.
They hunted together for hours before finding a herd of elk.
The wolf crouched low, perfectly blending into the snow.
She glanced back again and froze.
The man had vanished.
Before she could react, the elk screamed.
Caelan stood in their midst, blue psychic webs freezing them in place.
The wolf lunged, biting one through the throat.
Blood froze before it even hit the ground.
"Enough," Caelan's telepathic voice echoed. "Take us to your den."
The wolf tilted her head, us?
Dragging the carcass, she led him to a frozen cave.
From within, a dozen wolf pups tumbled out, gnawing at the meat.
And among them,
A gold-haired human child.
He ran on all fours like the wolves, dirt and blood under his nails, fangs flashing as he tore at the raw flesh.
Caelan grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up.
The boy snarled, baring teeth sharper than any cub's, his little face twisted in fury, growling like a beast defending its kill.
"Oh, really? Even Curze didn't dare that," Caelan muttered, smacking him on the head.
The wolves whined. The mother stepped between them protectively.
Holding the child like a misbehaving pup, Caelan said calmly, "Say thank you, or you'll get nothing to eat."
The boy roared back, not understanding.
Each time he snarled, Caelan gave him another light smack.
"Say thank you."
Eventually, the feral boy began to understand.
He glanced at his mother, who was ignoring him, and then at Caelan towering over him.
Finally, he croaked, "...th-thanks."
"Good. Now go eat." Caelan set him down.
The boy dashed for the meat and was stopped again.
"Humans walk on two legs," Caelan said, pointing at himself.
The boy mimicked him, wobbling upright, then stumbled toward the carcass again.
Caelan caught him once more.
"Meat must be cooked first."
A soft whoosh sounded as blue psychic flame bloomed in Caelan's palm…
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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