Chapter 30 — The Son of the First Return
Kosonia was a dying world.
Once rich in resources, its crust had been strip-mined millennia ago. What remained were rusted hive towers, toxic smog, and endless industrial ruins. The Mechanicum occasionally raided the planet for relic technology, but otherwise it was ignored by the wider Imperium.
Life persisted in the only way it could:
through gangs.
The slums beneath the hive shells were ruled by brutal syndicates locked in perpetual warfare over scraps of territory, water, and salvage.
It was here that the lost Primarch was found.
The Nameless Child
The child had been discovered in the wastelands by a gang leader named Cagidon, who adopted him and gave him a name befitting his uncertain fate:
Nameless.
He grew up in the gang wars.
Knife fights. Turf raids. Ambushes in the smog-choked underlevels.
Blood became routine. Survival became instinct.
Strangely, his true nature remained dormant.
He was stronger than most, quicker to learn, sharper in perception — but nothing beyond what might be called exceptional for a hardened slum fighter.
At best, his future held the possibility of becoming a gang lieutenant.
Perhaps even a leader.
That would have been the pinnacle of his destiny.
The Incubator
One day, a Mechanicum retrieval team discovered the buried remains of an ancient incubation chamber.
Nameless recognized it immediately.
It was the only relic tied to his unknown origin.
When the tech-priests attempted to seize it for research, Nameless intervened.
The confrontation escalated.
He killed the Mechanicum operative.
Later, he thought the act might finally earn him a true name — the Name of Slaying, granted only to those who proved themselves in blood.
When he returned with the body, Cagidon stared in horror.
"Child… do you know who you killed?"
"Foster father," Nameless asked, hopeful, "will I receive my true name now?"
Cagidon swallowed hard.
"Don't call me foster father," he whispered.
"You are my executioner."
The Name of Slaughter
The Mechanicum retaliation came swiftly.
Subterranean drilling engines tore through the underhive. Shock troops advanced methodically. The gang's stronghold was doomed.
As the walls trembled and dust fell from the ceiling, Cagidon dragged himself toward Nameless.
His wounds were mortal.
"Kill me," he rasped. "Earn your Name."
Nameless hesitated.
But the ritual was sacred.
He obeyed.
As Cagidon died, he whispered:
"Your name… is Horus Lupercal."
Awakening
The name triggered something deep within his genetic memory.
Reality seemed to fracture.
His body surged with growth and power.
Dormant knowledge erupted into consciousness — war, strategy, languages, star systems, command doctrines.
When Mechanicum troops breached the chamber, they halted in confusion.
Before them stood a giant more than three meters tall.
"Identify yourself," a tech-priest demanded.
"I am Horus," he answered.
"Son of the Emperor."
They stared.
Where was the underhive killer?
And who was this war-god claiming kinship with their sovereign?
Journey to Terra
Horus was taken to Terra.
On the voyage, anxiety gnawed at him.
He now knew who he was.
But knowing did not erase the life he had lived.
He had been a gang fighter.
Now he was a prince of a galactic empire.
The transition felt unreal.
Several of his former gang brothers accompanied him, granted transport by Mechanicum intermediaries.
They approached cautiously.
"Well done, Horus!" one said. "You've got a name and a crown now. Don't forget us when you're living like a king."
Another grinned.
"Why look so grim? This is good fortune!"
Horus exhaled and laughed, tension breaking.
"Don't worry," he said. "My brothers will live well."
And with that, the fear loosened its grip.
Terra Welcomes Its Son
Terra was ablaze with celebration.
Millions gathered at the port to witness the return of the Emperor's first son.
The Emperor had proposed a year-long celebration.
Yuki refused.
"If twenty brothers each receive a year," she said flatly, "no one on Terra will work again."
The Emperor compromised:
three months.
But he still intended Horus to be honored above all others. In his mind, Horus would one day serve as Warmaster.
Yuki had asked him:
"Father… is King Arthur your alter ego?"
"…Yes. Why?"
She sighed.
"You still don't understand people."
Since ancient times, rulers feared not scarcity, but inequality.
The final decree:
all future Primarch returns would follow the same protocol.
Arrival
The Mechanicum vessel docked.
The hatch opened.
A towering warrior emerged, followed by several poorly dressed underhive survivors.
The crowd murmured.
He was impressive…
But not as radiant as the Princess.
Work resumed.
Horus heard nothing.
His eyes were fixed on the golden figure waiting ahead.
The Emperor.
Father and Son
Standing before his father, Horus felt the weight of something vast and ancient.
The Emperor's presence pressed upon the senses like gravity.
Before the moment could crystallize—
"Stop standing there like statues," Yuki muttered, elbowing the Emperor. "Say something."
The Emperor gave her a reproachful look, then placed a hand on Horus's shoulder.
"Welcome home, my son."
They walked together toward the procession float.
To the watching masses, it appeared a perfect image:
a loving father
a noble son
The Emperor even presented Horus with a constellation guide before the cheering crowds.
In truth, he was awkwardly pointing out landmarks like a tour guide.
Horus responded with stiff nods and unfinished sentences.
It might have resembled early cognitive decline.
Sister
Yuki stepped between them.
"How are neither of you able to speak properly?"
The Emperor pointed to her.
"This is my daughter. Your elder sister."
Horus bowed slightly.
"Hello… sister."
Yuki studied him — a head taller than herself — then gently cupped his face.
"You've suffered."
Horus blinked.
"No, sister… I— I was fine…"
He hadn't been.
He had fought for survival daily.
He had nearly died more times than he could count.
"Shh," she said softly.
"It's over now. I've got you."
The tension drained from him.
"Thank you, sister."
He hesitated.
"My friends from Kosonia…?"
"The Imperial Chancellor is hosting them," she said.
Alpharius Watches
Later, in the Chancellor's residence, Alpharius sat silently at a table.
Macador entered.
"Why didn't you stay with your brother?"
"I saw him," Alpharius replied. "Then I left."
Macador studied him.
"Envious?"
Alpharius hesitated.
"…I didn't expect Father to smile."
He had seen it.
The Emperor had smiled at Horus.
He had only ever seen that expression directed toward Yuki.
Never toward him.
He swallowed.
"If Horus can visit her freely… will she forget me?"
Macador sighed.
"I will assign you a covert identity within the Zero Legion. Visit her whenever you wish."
Alpharius lowered his head.
"Thank you, teacher."
Macador sipped his tea.
"What a mess…"