"Welcome, brother."
Sanguinius opened his arms and embraced the brother who had come from afar. "I am sincerely grateful that you answered our call."
Lorgar smiled lightly. "I came because we are brothers. We share the same father."
"Perhaps two."
Lorgar did not comment. He looked around and asked softly, "Where is my other brother?"
"Please forgive our brother's absence. He is currently having his genetic material extracted by the Apothecaries."
The reconstruction of the Emperor's Children required a large number of gene-seeds. These precious gene-seeds could not be created from nothing; they could only be cultivated through the continuous extraction of blood and genetic material from the Primarch.
Even as a blood brother, Sanguinius could not replace Fulgrim and lighten his burden.
The Third Legion and the Ninth Legion could be as one family, but the Third Legion would always ultimately use Fulgrim's gene-seed.
Sanguinius gracefully bowed, his voice as gentle as the morning breeze: "Welcome, Sister Medea."
"Thank you."
Medea covered her lips with her sleeve, her gaze seemingly casually sweeping over Lorgar.
'Look at him, then look at you. You are definitely the worst Primarch I have ever seen!'
Medea was not human, but she was confident she was superior to any human.
During the Golden Age, Men of Iron, depending on the cognitive matrix they were equipped with, also had distinct professional specializations. This specialized design allowed each Men of Iron to achieve peak performance in a specific field.
Medea was a unique existence.
As an alpha-series universal-type angel, she bore the mission of reviving human civilization.
The word 'universal' manifested her extraordinary endowment. She was the most perfect masterpiece of Colchis's Golden Age!
Yet, Lorgar did not appreciate her at all.
Caelan had indeed cautioned Lorgar to remain vigilant towards Men of Iron, but certainly not to be on guard against her like she was a thief.
But she wouldn't steal anything. Lorgar's defensiveness was completely unreasonable.
If Lorgar would just ask her, she could also be his mother. But Lorgar would rather ask the mothers of other Primarchs.
Medea understood: it was because she wasn't human.
But precisely because she wasn't human and lacked a reproduction module, she wouldn't accidentally create little brothers and sisters to compete with the Primarchs for favor like others might!
The two Primarchs and the Iron Woman, each with their respective honor guards, took a massive lift straight to the shelter's core zone.
In the medical bay, Fulgrim had been waiting for some time.
"Welcome, brother." Fulgrim gracefully raised his arm.
Lorgar took the hand, his gaze shifting back and forth between Fulgrim and Sanguinius. "You guys truly are identical."
Not only were their faces identical, but even the patterns on their pure white wings were exactly the same.
If not for the difference in hair and eye color, Lorgar would have difficulty telling them apart.
Sanguinius smiled, "You resemble our father well."
Lorgar calmly replied, "I don't consider that a talent."
Fulgrim added, "But Father might like it."
Lorgar stopped denying it. His childhood appearance indeed had a great impact on his father.
Both of his brothers here were equally noble and elegant, but Lorgar preferred Sanguinius because Fulgrim's eyes were purple, like his own.
Their attributes overlapped.
Lorgar said, "Let's get down to business. The reason you invited me here."
Fulgrim's smile faded, a serious expression appearing in his purple eyes: "We invited you mainly for Sister Medea."
"Speak."
Lorgar's expression was calm, accustomed to this.
Since returning to the Imperium, the real intention behind many meetings with his brothers had been Medea.
Sanguinius said, "Our Legions have fatal genetic flaws: the Red Thirst and the Blight. Current Imperial genetic technology struggles to treat them. Therefore, we hope to obtain Sister Medea's assistance."
The outbreak of the Red Thirst and the Blight was definitely not the Emperor's deliberate doing. Any mutation was related to the Primarchs' genes.
Whether human or Primarch, those intricate genes were bewildering. A mortal could spend a lifetime and still not untangle them.
In the canonical history, Fabius Bile only stumbled upon a way to break free from the Blight after ten thousand years. This shows the difficulty involved.
Genetic flaws exist objectively. Any attempt to ignore them is like covering one's ears while stealing a bell.
Concealing them from their brothers would be foolish. If they wouldn't even notice the specific problem, their brothers, even willing to help, would be powerless.
Medea responded cautiously, "I can undertake this work, but I cannot guarantee success either."
Sanguinius asked with concern, "Sister Medea, if you have any difficulties, we hope you will be frank."
Medea explained softly, "The Primarchs' genes are the technological crystallization of the Master of Mankind. Even in the Golden Age, they represented a very high technological threshold. Genetic research alone presents immense technical challenges."
"Moreover, these two genetic flaws may be related to your warp essence, and I know nothing about the warp."
Fulgrim nodded, "We have also considered these difficulties, Sister Medea. Whether you succeed or not, there's no need to worry too much."
Medea's gaze inadvertently swept over Lorgar again, but his expression remained completely unchanged.
His brothers' reliance on Men of Iron bordered on blind.
He acknowledged that the Golden Age technology Medea possessed was indeed unparalleled. But everything has two sides.
The greater the power, the more fatal the backlash if it ever gets out of control.
He wouldn't interfere with his brothers seeking help from Men of Iron, but if Medea ever betrayed humanity one day, he would have to step forward!
Precisely for this reason, he had to always maintain distance.
All his brothers could use her, only he could not.
.....
"Today, we continue with the story of the Jieman Great Rebellion."
Caelan gently cradled Vulkan in the crook of his arm, holding an ancient book from Hesiod, but the content he spoke had nothing to do with the book.
"In the early years of the Empire, the Emperor ended the era of chaos, rescued the people from misery, and then governed diligently, creating a utopian society."
"However, the Jieman Great Rebellion caused the Empire to decline from its peak."
"Today, we will talk about the story of the Dark Flame Dragon, Vucan."
"When Vulkan landed, he was raised by a salamander called Godzilla. It was the overlord among salamanders."
Nocturne's salamanders were actually not dragons.
In ancient Terran, the word for dragon was 'dragon', and based on different types, 'drake', 'wyrm', 'serpent', and 'wyrmling', could also be used.
But Nocturne's salamanders were 'salamanders', also the name of the Salamanders Legion.
In ancient Terra, 'salamander' was usually referred to as a type of amphibian.
This might reveal the origin of Nocturne's salamanders: they were actually modified using salamander genes.
This also aligned Vulkan very well. Salamanders possess incredible regenerative abilities. No matter which part of the body is injured, for example, cutting off limbs, gouging out eyes, even removing half the brain, it can grow back in a few days, leaving no scars.
"In the first ten years, Godzilla raised Vucan like any qualified mother. But after Vucan grew up, the adult Vulkan had to go out alone to build his own nest."
"But Vucan was not a salamander. He didn't understand why his mother wanted to drive him away."
"This led to conflict. The mother killed Vucan. But Vucan was an immortal, and he soon resurrected."
"In his anger, Vucan killed his mother."
Juno, lazily curled up in the courtyard, let out a sky-shaking sneeze, a puff of flame shooting from her mouth.
For some reason, she felt a fluttering in her heart.
Juno's gaze lingered on her child and the child's father for a moment. Confirming they were both safe, she lowered her head and slowly lay back down.
"Vucan used his monster foster mother's corpse to make a set of armor and a cloak, and headed to a nearby human city."
"People both worshipped and feared him for his strength and the trophies he carried. Vucan also eagerly devoured human knowledge and became the most skilled blacksmith in the city."
Vulkan suddenly looked up with his small face. "Will Vucan's foster mother come back to life?"
"No. Vucan was an immortal, but his foster mother was just an ordinary salamander."
Vulkan's mouth immediately puckered. "Then I don't want to listen anymore!"
"Why?"
"Vucan is a bad person. I don't like him. He'll get what's coming to him!"
"What if the story has a twist?"
"It won't. He doesn't deserve it!"
Vulkan knew who Vucan was, but he would never kill his own mother!
If his mother wanted to kill him, then let him die.
Anyway, he could come back to life. He would keep dying until his mother's anger subsided.
If his mother still wanted to drive him away, then he would run.
No matter what happened, he wouldn't become someone like Vucan!
Parents are the most precious gift in this world. People who don't cherish them will get what's coming to them!
Vulkan clenched his little fist, making up his mind. His father had taught him about humanity, but even the kindest person has boundaries. His boundary was his parents!
"Then let's stop here." Caelan pinched Vulkan's cheek. He fully respected the little Primarch's wishes.
"Let's switch stories. This time, let's talk about Nucan."
The dark little Primarch blinked his bright red eyes. "Does it have a happy ending?"
"Not a happy ending, but not a bad one."
"Then I want to hear it."
"Nucan landed in a human town and was adopted by an old blacksmith. Under the old blacksmith's careful guidance, Nucan became an excellent blacksmith."
"Father, why is it always a blacksmith?"
"You don't like blacksmiths?"
A confused expression appeared on Vulkan's young face. "I don't know."
He was too young to clearly understand what he liked and didn't like.
But he liked his father's warm embrace. He also liked his mother's hard scales. He also liked every person in the town.
Vulkan asked innocently, "Father, do you want me to be a blacksmith?"
Caelan gently placed Vulkan on his knee. "No need to rush. Let's finish the story first."
"One day, the inherently evil Soul Drinkers came to the village. They came to harvest mortal flesh and soul, to satisfy their insatiable hunger."
"The people in the town cowered in hiding, lacking the courage to resist."
"But Nucan stepped up. He led the people of the town in brave resistance, killing many of the invading Soul Drinkers."
"To protect the town, Nucan became a hero."
"He drove away the Soul Drinkers, united the people of several surrounding towns, and was revered by thousands."
"But Nucan didn't actually like being a hero. He liked being a blacksmith."
"Yet if he wasn't a hero, he couldn't protect the people."
"Do hero and blacksmith conflict?"
Caelan thought for a moment. "I don't think they conflict, but different people have different views."
Vulkan blinked. "Then why not have both? Why can't he be both a hero and a blacksmith?"
"A person's energy is limited. It's hard to achieve excellence in multiple things simultaneously. That's why we have phrases like 'you can't have it both ways'."
"You have to try it to know, right?"
"Then will Vulkan be brave enough to try?"
"Yes! When the people need me, I'll be a hero. When the people don't need me, I'll go back to being a blacksmith!"
Caelan asked with a smile, "Didn't you say you don't like blacksmiths?"
Vulkan's dark little face was full of seriousness. "I didn't say I don't like them. I said I don't know!"
"And now?"
"Now I can like them."
"What if I don't like them?"
Vulkan bit his finger, his little face full of dilemma. "If... if Father and Mother don't like it, then I won't like it either."
Caelan looked up at the sky and sighed deeply. 'Vulkan is so cute and kind,'
"Later, Nucan's father, the Emperor, came to this town."
"The Emperor disguised himself as an outsider and proposed a contest with Nucan. The wager was that the loser would serve the winner for life."
"They first competed in the anvil lift test: lifting an anvil above their heads and holding it for half a day."
"This contest continued for eight days, always ending in a draw."
"In the final competition, they had 24 hours to forge a weapon and use it to hunt a salamander."
"Whoever caught the bigger prey would win."
Juno snorted again. What had salamanders ever done wrong?
"Nucan quickly found and killed a huge salamander. But on his way back, a volcanic eruption knocked him off a cliff."
"But even in danger, Nucan refused to give up. He grabbed the cliff face with one hand and held onto the salamander's tail with the other."
"Later, Nucan gradually grew exhausted. Just then, that outsider suddenly appeared, carrying prey even larger than the salamander Nucan had killed."
At this point in the story, Caelan's gaze turned to Juno.
The salamander that the Emperor targeted was certainly no ordinary one; it was likely the Salamander King.
"To save Nucan, the outsider didn't hesitate to throw his prey into the magma, using it as a bridge to reach Nucan and rescue him."
"Thus, having lost his prey, the outsider lost the contest."
"But Nucan still conceded defeat and knelt to the outsider, swearing he would serve anyone who valued life above glory."
Vulkan's coal-black little face scrunched up. "Did the outsider deliberately wait until Nucan was trapped before helping him?"
Caelan thought Vulkan had guessed the truth, but he decided to save the Emperor some face.
"Maybe it was a coincidence. But we should learn a lesson from this story."
Vulkan blinked his big eyes. "Is it to have both?"
"Having both is an insight. The lesson is that gambling is bad for your health!"
The Emperor really liked making bets with people. He bet with Vulkan, with Russ, with Mortarion, and even with the Four Gods.
And he always liked to go all in, often betting a lifetime, eventually losing everything.
Friends abandoned him, his wife betrayed him, his closest ally disintegrated, his sons were unrecognizable, the Imperium fell apart, and his dreams were shattered.
Nothing remained but a withered skeleton and eternal torment.
The Emperor had to gamble humanity's future. He had no choice.
But in many matters, he didn't need to gamble, yet he often gambled when he shouldn't, and didn't gamble when he should.
Because he walked alone. He wasn't a god, not omnipotent. No matter how detailed his plans, there would be mistakes.
These mistakes ultimately made him fail at the last step.
Caelan couldn't stop the Emperor from gambling. He would even support him.
The current situation was the Four Gods watching eagerly, sucking the blood from human civilization.
If he didn't gamble, he would only lose everything.
Gambling allowed a chance to fight. Either lose everything, or gain everything.
They were fighting to gain everything!
Caelan only hoped he would learn a lesson: even when going all in, one should first look at one's cards. Even old folks in the M3 era knew the principle that you need cards to play.
But Vulkan didn't have to gamble.
Primarchs bore the future of humanity, but they didn't have to bear it all. If the sky fell, the Emperor would hold it up!
Caelan placed his hands on Vulkan's shoulders, earnestly admonishing him:
"People must never gamble, nor easily make promises to others. Otherwise, you might lose your whole life!"
Vulkan asked innocently, "What about Father?"
"Not even with me."
Caelan shook his head. "But doesn't Father often easily make promises to others?"
Caelan sighed heavily. "So I've already lost my whole life."
Vulkan's little hand tightly clutched Caelan's collar. "Did Father lose?"
Caelan smiled happily. "I think I won. So I lost willingly."
Vulkan's chubby little face became serious. "Then I will help Father!"
Caelan pinched his cheek. "I believe you."
Caelan believed in the Primarchs, and he believed in the Emperor.
Juno slowly brought her huge head closer. Her dark red vertical pupils showed confusion and vigilance.
Though she couldn't fully understand human language, she still picked up certain keywords, the child's father had someone else outside, behind her and the child's back, and it was a man!
The child's father finding another man or something... that kind of thing...
"Juno, what do you want to say?"
Caelan placed his palm on Juno's head, sensing her thoughts with his psychic power.
"A lifetime... thinking of me..."
Caelan gently stroked Juno's scales. "We are Vulkan's parents. Of course, I will think of you for a lifetime."
The last time he had this experience was on Fenris.
'Sylvia, I miss you a little.'
Sylvia's fur was soft. When it went up his nose, it tickled. Caelan loved lying on her belly.
Juno was different. Her scales were too thick. Sitting on her back hurt his butt. Caelan had to use psychic power to cushion himself.
Juno snorted out a wisp of hot breath. "You... thinking... of... who?"
"Your sister."
"Sister?"
Juno tilted her head. She had lived for thousands of years, but she didn't remember having any sister.