Chapter 41 Mordecai Threxion
For a fleeting moment, Yuki felt disoriented.
Pavilions and towers rose in layered silhouettes. Green-tiled roofs curved upward into elegant flying eaves. Market vendors in coarse cloth called out their wares beneath hanging lanterns.
It could have been ancient Terra.
Yet a patrolman passed carrying a crackling electro-blade.
An air skiff hummed across the sky.
Electromagnetic cannon arrays crowned the distant city walls.
Past and future existed here in quiet equilibrium.
"It will rain," Yuki murmured.
Dark clouds rolled across the sky. Thunder muttered. A fine drizzle began to fall.
Beside her stood the Emperor, disguised as an ordinary traveler. His gaze followed a merchant unfurling a wide oilcloth canopy in practiced efficiency.
"Let us ask," he said.
The World Called Domus
The planet was known locally as Domus — Home.
During the Dark Age of Technology, it had been a renowned resort world, celebrated for its temperate climate and ocean vistas.
Then came Old Night.
Records suggested:
planetary civil war
tectonic weapon deployment
orbital bombardment
ecological collapse
Ninety percent of the surface became ocean.
The remaining continent became a lethal wilderness.
Humanity nearly vanished.
Then, a century ago, one man appeared.
He rallied the survivors.
He unified fractured dialects into a common tongue.
He standardized script and measurement.
He taught metallurgy, agriculture, architecture, and defensive warfare.
He led hunts against megafauna.
He organized settlements.
He built walls.
Within one century, civilization returned.
He became emperor.
Upon hearing this, the Emperor of Terra had no doubt.
Another son.
This time, he brought Yuki without prompting.
Devotion
They questioned townsfolk along the way.
Every citizen praised their emperor.
But before speaking his name, they knelt facing the distant palace.
Yuki frowned.
"They are… excessively devout."
The Emperor shook his head.
"I have seen such gratitude before."
He had.
Too many times.
Approaching the Palace
As they walked toward the towering palace complex, Yuki studied her surroundings.
The resemblance to ancient China was striking:
architecture
social structure
written script
black hair and amber skin tones
formal etiquette
"Father," she asked, "what is my brother's name?"
"I believe… Mordecai Threxion."
The Emperor of Domus
"Your Majesty, you must rest."
"What time is it, Mordecai?"
"Ten minutes until sunset."
Mordecai Threxion emerged from his workshop.
He was tall, black-haired, black-eyed, with a utilitarian buzz cut. His work tunic was worn and oil-stained, sleeves rolled to reveal scarred forearms.
The Emperor of Domus looked like a laborer.
"You should not strain yourself so," his advisor said softly. "Your health is more important than these machines."
"You do not understand."
Mordecai Threxion sat on the palace steps rather than the throne above. He patted the stone beside him.
The advisor hesitated, then sat.
The crimson sun sank into the forest horizon.
"Time does not wait," Mordecai said quietly. "When you slow, what hunts you closes the distance."
His advisor knew him better than anyone.
That knowledge only deepened his doubts.
Their emperor:
refused ceremonial kneeMordecaing
declined divine titles
worked beside laborers
invented tools then returned to manual work
spoke often of "lessons of the past" yet never revealed them
"Your Majesty… why will you not tell us about your past?"
Silence.
Rain began to fall beyond the eaves.
At last:
"Go rest."
The advisor bowed and withdrew.
Visitors in the Rain
Thunder rolled across the night sky.
Mordecai Threxion was reviewing agricultural distribution reports when his communicator chimed.
"Your Majesty, two strangers request audience. They claim kinship."
He paused.
At the Palace Gate
The guards watched the two cloaked figures.
Rain fell around them.
Yet droplets evaporated before touching their garments.
Nearby, Yuki whispered furiously:
"Father, are you incapable of subtlety? If you tell a ruler worshiped like a god that you are the ruler of humanity, they will assume provocation."
"I spoke truth," the Emperor replied calmly.
"If he refuses, we fight. If he fights and survives, he is worthy."
Yuki stared.
Unbelievable.
The Meeting
Mordecai Threxion emerged escorted by palace guards.
He wore no imperial regalia — only a dark Zhongshan-style jacket threaded with subtle golden tiger embroidery.
At first he looked disappointed.
Then something shifted behind his eyes.
Recognition without recognition.
He stepped aside.
"Guests from afar. Please enter."
Tea
Inside, steam curled from porcelain cups.
Yuki dropped her disguise immediately and took a sip.
Her eyes widened.
"Now this is tea. What did Terra serve us?"
"If you like, sister," Mordecai Threxion said calmly, "I can provide more."
"I would appreciate that."
She studied him.
Two words came to mind:
quiet refinement
He possessed none of Horus's radiant charisma nor Russ's primal ferocity.
He was still water.
Depth hidden beneath calm.
The Emperor's Question
The Emperor spoke plainly.
"Will you join the Great Crusade?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No change in expression.
Only certainty.
The Emperor nodded.
"Choose companions. When ready, I will send for you."
Something Too Perfect
Yuki watched closely.
Too smooth.
Too immediate.
Too aligned.
She had investigated the II and XI Legions' gene-lines extensively and found no corruption or instability.
So if a flaw existed…
It would not be in the gene-seed.
It would be in the Primarch.
She stopped the Emperor before departure.
"Threxion," she asked, "why did you agree so quickly?"
Mordecai Threxion met her gaze calmly.
"It is a mutually beneficial arrangement, sister."
Nothing more.
Departure
On the return journey, Yuki spoke quietly.
"Father… may Mordecai travel with me for a time?"
The Emperor did not hesitate.
"Very well."
He had noticed the same irregularity.
But the Crusade demanded momentum.
And Yuki saw what others missed.
That was enough.
Messages Sent
Yuki transmitted across the fleet network.
"Another brother has returned. Will you come?"
Russ responded instantly:
"Of course!"
Horus replied:
"I will be there."
Then, privately:
Perhaps this one will not be another wolf.