In the eyes of ten million people, the Emperor of Mankind might have ten million different appearances.
He might be a majestic giant, with sallow skin and lustrous black hair, wearing the most opulent golden armor, the light from his face alone enough to illuminate the deepest darkness.
He might be a short, wise scholar, cloaked in a closed, sterile grey-white suit, with only his deep blue and brown-yellow mixed eyes radiating memories and rationality from a great era.
He might be a king roaring in fierce battle, with the appearance of a barbarian, yet proclaiming his invincibility with laurel wreaths and eagle banners. Standing there, he would inspire more fear than a million legions.
But in the eyes of the Lord of the First Legion, these were all misguided fallacies, pathetic illusions caused by insufficient ability and insight. The descriptions offered by these accounts were far from the Emperor's true appearance.
Only what he saw was the Emperor's true appearance.
——————
Lion El'Jonson waited. When his brothers returned to the Phalanx due to the Emperor's command, he, under a certain unspoken understanding, followed the guidance of instinct and arrived in a dimly lit cave.
The ancient doors might not have been truly opened for thousands of years. Lion El'Jonson's intrusion awakened the still-functioning automatic lights. Under the dimmest illumination,
he could discern the paintings on the walls: black and white artworks from a distant, glorious era, depicting how the first colonists drove away beast hordes and miasma, erased swamps and snow-capped mountains from the land, and established magnificent cities.
Subsequent paintings depicted chapters of conflict, conspiracy, and war, but Lion El'Jonson was not in the mood to appreciate them. He quickly passed through, pushed open one door after another, and finally stopped under a bright light.
This was a naturally formed skylight. Light from the sky poured in through a crack, creating a dazzling realm in the endless darkness.
Lion El'Jonson stood in the light. In his line of sight, within the faint shadow ahead, a figure slightly taller than himself was slowly appearing.
The Emperor had arrived.
The Lord of Mankind was clad in emerald armor, each scale inlaid with gold trim and connected by gold and silver threads, shimmering with a soft, deep green light in the dim shadows.
He concealed himself with a robe that was also golden, though somewhat old and dark, embroidered with textures of eagles, swords, and laurel wreaths in black thread.
His eyes were unseen by outsiders. His prominent nose and smooth jaw spoke of his youth, but when he spoke, it was with an inherent gravity and wisdom.
This was the appearance of the Lord of Mankind. When Lion El'Jonson first met his genitor in the deep forests of Caliban, he became certain that what he saw was the true aspect of his father.
His brothers had merely witnessed false masks; only he had seen the truth.
[Lion, My Knight.]
"Father."
The Lord of the First Legion performed the most standard knightly salute. The Emperor waited quietly and politely, until the etiquette was complete, before slowly speaking again.
[You have a question, one for which you still seek an answer, even across star systems and the cosmos?]
Lion El'Jonson did not reply. He awaited the Emperor's permission.
Not until the Lord of the First Legion sensed a silent assent in the air did he raise his head and, after a slight hesitation, spoke cautiously.
"Yes, Father."
"This may involve a secret, but I believe it is necessary to report it to you."
The Emperor closed his eyes, as if sighing silently.
[Speak.]
Lion El'Jonson raised his head. His pupils flickered with a light like a breeze stirring pond water, showing that he was somewhat nervous.
"I want to know…"
"When you created us, did you also create… a female individual… or individuals?"
——————
The air seemed to be silent for a long time.
It was a long, a very long, an incomparably long and difficult time.
The finest dust motes drifted slowly in the ragged rays of sunlight, dancing in irregular patterns in mid-air. They floated, landing on Lion El'Jonson's head, and at the Emperor's feet.
The Emperor merely kept his eyes closed.
Eventually, Lion El'Jonson thought he heard another sigh, but he also seemed not to have heard it.
[So, you met her?]
"Morgana."
Receiving a definite answer, Lion El'Jonson uttered the name softly, his voice trembling slightly.
[Morgana. She still chose to accept this name. This is good; it removed a trivial concern for me.]
The Emperor's tone was as if discussing a long-lost book. He seemed somewhat relieved, but only slightly. The Lord of Mankind's eyes remained closed, only the smile at the corner of his mouth faintly visible beneath the hood.
[Did she approach you?]
"She came to my Legion as the mortal advisor of the Fifteenth Legion, a confidante of my brother Magnus."
[…Magnus?]
——————
The Emperor's eyes opened.
——————
Lion El'Jonson heard footsteps, lingering footsteps.
His liege seemed to be contemplating something. The Lord of Mankind raised his head, looked at the crack where light continuously poured in, reshaping his thoughts, inferring what he wanted from the brief words.
[Your brother, did he send her to your Legion as one of his legionary progenies?]
"Yes."
The Emperor turned his head, facing the darkest shadows, seemingly pondering something.
Lion El'Jonson looked up at his father: the Lord of Mankind stood at the boundary of light and shadow. His dark golden robe shimmered under the light, but his face was completely hidden in darkness. More dust continuously fell and rose at his feet, like a dirty snow wave.
"Are you worried she will be misled by Magnus, Father?"
[…No, I am worried about the opposite.]
The Emperor turned around, looking at his progeny. In the pupils obscured by the shadow of his hood, Lion El'Jonson felt his secrets and thoughts had nowhere to hide.
He would not be angry because of this.
[What kind of person is she in your eyes?]
"As a mortal?"
[As a mortal.]
The Lion of Caliban pondered for a moment.
"Capable, calm, cautious, somewhat eccentric and secretive, but also possessing a greedy and reckless side."
[…Elaborate.]
"She is indeed very calm and cautious, accustomed to making many preparations and contingency plans, but this caution is in preparation for the recklessness deep within her heart."
"She has an almost bestial instinctual obsession with exploring desolate lands at the edge of her abilities and consciousness. She always wants to know more, but she will not blindly advance into unknown territories."
"She will not rush in, but she will not stop either."
"She will not lose her mind, but she will not stop fighting."
"She engages in adventurous and exploratory activities within her capabilities. Even if she gets injured, it's only the slightest flesh wound. She protects her own will with the utmost care, not willingly venturing into danger, yet unwilling to give up adventure and exploration."
"In summary."
"Cautious and prudent, with insatiable desires."
"Proceeding step by step, yet daring and audacious."
——————
The Emperor listened quietly.
Then, he had Lion El'Jonson recount more, detailing all the information the First Legion had gathered about Morgana's past, her actions during her time in the First Legion, every one of her moves, words, and initiatives, some of which Morgana herself might have forgotten.
The Emperor listened to every word carefully and meticulously, then fell into a deeper, longer silence.
Until Lion El'Jonson, with an inexplicable anxiety, asked.
"Do you need me to bring her, Father?"
[…No, no need.]
[Not for now.]
[I do not have additional time or energy.]
The Emperor thought for a while longer, then looked at Lion El'Jonson.
[For now, until this war ends, let her stay by your side.]
[Until the Rendan are erased, I will have her return at an appropriate time. Before then, consider it as her learning everything a Primarch needs by your side.]
[You should also have an assistant, Lion.]
[I have entrusted this war against the Rendan to you, because you are the only one who can complete it. This war is destined to be unsung, to disappear in misunderstanding and oblivion. Its victor will only receive their own reward in the desolate shadows: trust and loyalty.]
[Some people always need light and applause.]
[But some people do not.]
[However… remember my words, Lion.]
[One day, she will leave us.]
[This is a predetermined fact. My will, your will, even her will, none can change this. Absolutely, nothing can change it.]
[You must be prepared, and ready.]
[She will eventually leave the Human Imperium, leave me, and leave you. This parting is destined not to be a fond farewell between friends. It will echo in blood and fire, leading to slaughter and an end that no epic will ever record.]
[Remember it, engrave it, execute it.]
[My Knight, this is your mission.]
Lion El'Jonson breathed in silence, his head bowed.
——————
"I will reserve a sword for her, Father."
"I will ensure that this sword will be most suitable for her."
——————
The Lord of the First Legion had forgotten how he left the cave.
In fact, apart from the Emperor's words and instructions, he remembered no details of that meeting.
He remained silent, left, and boarded the Emperor's flagship, catching up to the long-delayed meeting of his brothers.
His brother Horus was still the same as before, an incorrigible torch longing to imitate the sun. He thought the Lion didn't know his little thoughts, didn't know the somewhat ridiculous entanglement and annoyance in his heart.
And another brother, Jaghatai Khan from Chogoris, Lion El'Jonson didn't interact much with him, but from his brief words and clear eyes, he saw a sincere person worthy of respect, which was very rare among his brothers.
As for Fulgrim…
Not everyone was worth analyzing and remembering.
Lion El'Jonson politely declined further invitations. He felt he had expressed his respect to Horus as subtly as possible and requested leave.
Although to others, the Lord of the First Legion simply stood up straight, stared directly at Horus, and conveyed that his Legion's military affairs were urgent, allowing no luxurious waste of time.
His emerald pupils swept across everyone, making it clear to the three brothers that even if they continued to invite Lion El'Jonson to sit and chat, he would not refuse, but he would also not participate in any further discussions.
He remembered the colors flashing in Horus's pupils, that seemed to be the emotion called [embarrassment]. He somewhat understood Horus's predicament, but he indeed had no further reason to linger there doing nothing.
Thus, the First Legion's fleet became the first Imperial fleet to leave the Moloch system.
The Lion of Caliban drove his progeny and crew almost strictly. Aside from necessary resupplies, he refused all reasons for delay. The Dark Angels' fleet operated with maximum efficiency, returning non-stop to the front lines.
Lion El'Jonson was uneasy about the front lines. He was uneasy entrusting the power of war and command to anyone. Even Corswain, his most trusted progeny, had not truly proven his abilities.
Lion El'Jonson's flagship returned from Moloch at a speed no one had ever imagined. The Dark Angels, assembled on the Unbending Truth to greet him, were even a bit rushed. But fortunately, their genitor didn't care about this. As soon as he landed, he grabbed Corswain, asking about the front-line situation during his absence.
After repeatedly confirming that the Rendan had indeed not taken the opportunity to launch any offensive capable of turning the tide, Lion El'Jonson finally let out the biggest stone in his heart. Then, he turned and saw his disguised kin walking towards him with a truly slow pace.
She stopped before him, saluted him, bowed in respect, and respectfully addressed him as [Lord Lion].
The Lion of Caliban even felt a ridiculous sense of emotion.
Then, she turned and stood to the side. Only then did he notice another creature lingering at her feet.
It was a cat-like creature, about the length of a mortal's forearm, with fluffy white fur and a pair of cyan-blue eyes like a vast ocean. Around its pupils, strands of brownish-yellow and black light were scattered, extending to its nose, forming a kind of distinctive pattern that complemented its brownish-black ears.
It was as lazy as its master, nudging Morgana's boot tips somewhat slowly, then simply curled into a ball, possessively settling at her feet.
Lion El'Jonson's gaze rested on Morgana's face, but he only saw a insincere smile.
[I have decided to revisit Sisyphus III, to reflect properly on the relics and insights from our battle. And it is merely a wonderful souvenir: a once-wild strong-brained cat, beneficial to a psyker like myself.]
Lion El'Jonson's gaze then shot towards Asmodeus.
The poor Librarian instinctively took a step back under this gaze, then cautiously nodded.
The giant feline of Caliban once again turned its head. His gaze lingered on Morgana's face for a long enough time, but he received nothing but a bland smile, devoid of any sincerity or provocation.
Finally, Lion El'Jonson simply ignored it.
Now, he should think about other things.
About that sword.
About Duran.
About his brother he had yet to meet: Leman Russ.
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