Before Gahlan Surlak, the "Vampire," even reached the steps of the Triumph Hall, his nose twitched. The scent of blood seeped through his rebreather.
As he stepped onto the platform, he saw 2nd Company Captain Synagun rush through the gate.
He saw Grendel's forehead and face veins bulging. His tense shoulders relaxed only through deep muscular control.
His skin, beneath the scent of cleansing gel, held traces of adrenaline and other secretions.
An Astartes's body instinctively secreted these when sensing danger.
Grendel stared warily at the steel-grey door, as if a terrible daemon lurked within. Nightmares flashed through his mind.
Legion Master Gil was the first to enter. When 1st Company Champion Kunnar heard the clamor behind the door, he draped his robe, grabbed his chainaxe, and rushed in.
Assault Captain Anziz followed. Heaxyn followed, his two standard-bearers insisting on accompanying him.
They had spent an hour in the dim hall, giving their all, yet still could not convince their gene-father.
Gahlan silently joined the ranks. Amidst the heavy scent of blood and the somber atmosphere, he observed.
The Triumph Hall's antechamber, with its semicircular outer wall facing the barracks deck, was usually bustling with the loud chatter of the War Hounds.
Now, it was eerily silent. The sounds of collisions and screams from behind the iron-grey door were all the more piercing. Every War Hound's nerves and muscles were taut.
Gahlan stood in the silence for three hours. The iron-grey door became a bloody gate to hell in his eyes.
He was utterly disappointed in this gene-father, Angron.
The Legion had lost four companies' senior commanders. Greater losses than any previous campaign.
'Serving the Black Emperor was the wisest decision I ever made.'
As he thought, he decided to begin carrying out one of the Black Emperor's commands: obtain the formula for the Nucerian anesthetic, and other Dark Age technologies.
"We should not continue this senseless death." His words broke the eerie silence.
"The Emperor gave him to us. This is our oath. For us, and for the Emperor." Kharn said coldly.
"I'm not asking you to abandon your oath or honor." Gahlan glanced at the blood-stained iron-grey door. "We need to understand why Father refuses to lead us. Why he refuses the duty the Emperor gave him."
"You mean..." Jerek, the Master of Arsenal and Techmarine, said with a mixture of concern and hope, "we find out why, and then approach it from that angle."
"Correct. The answers are on Nuceria, Father's birthplace." Gahlan looked at the assembled Captains.
"We must go there. Find out what shaped him."
"I'll go with you." Dreagher was the first to volunteer.
"I can help." Variss, the Chief Librarian, spoke, his face pale as he stared at the iron-grey door. He could sense his father's fury mounting within.
He could also sense the anger and fear building in the War Hound commanders around him.
"We don't have much time."
"Good." Gahlan immediately accepted. Both Variss, who could sense Angron's rage, and the calm Dreagher, were key subjects for observation. They were the most likely to leave the darkness for the light with him.
They hurried to the flight deck. The 9th Company and the Librarius had quickly assembled.
Inside the transport, Hoz, the Stormbird squadron commander of the 9th Company, walked to Dreagher, Variss, and Gahlan. He clenched his fist.
"We don't know what will happen. We must prepare for the worst."
"We should choose a senior officer to lead the Legion, and then..."
After a moment's silence, Gahlan spoke first.
"We will find the key to Father's door on Nuceria."
Hoz did not press further. He turned to urge his men to prepare for flight.
As the transport reached Nuceria's near orbit, the Stormbird squadron took off immediately after clearance.
Inside the cabin, Variss, his eyes deep, looked down.
"Nucerian soldiers have surrounded the designated landing zone."
"This is just their precaution against outsiders." Gahlan said. "The Emperor has made agreements with them."
"I don't think they want a firefight. As long as we make our intentions clear: we only want to know what Father experienced."
He looked at Variss. "But what they tell us might not be the truth. The Librarians must find the answers for us."
"We will." Variss replied, gripping his force staff.
The Stormbird squadron landed. The War Hounds in blue-white armor descended.
Dreagher, as the highest-ranking commander, approached the Nucerian warriors adorned with silver trim.
He switched his translator to the local language from the Emperor's flagship.
"I am Captain Dreagher of the 9th Assault Company, a son of Angron."
"We are not here to take anything from you. We only want to know what he experienced."
Variss's consciousness expanded, spreading outward.
He keenly sensed that the Nucerian warriors had not relaxed at Dreagher's restrained, goodwill gesture.
They were more tense, and more afraid.
He focused on a warrior with the most ornate silver trim, penetrating his mental gates.
He found what he was looking for. His eyes filled with rage.
He saw poison needles, heavy with anesthetic, raining down on a boy in the snow.
He saw his father, in chains, the agony of the Butcher's Nails being forcibly implanted.
He saw drones releasing electric shocks, forcing enslaved gladiators to fight.
He saw the rebellious slaves fighting the well-armed high-riders before them with sticks and stones.
...
The Librarians gathered various pieces of information from their targets.
Librarian Teths clenched his force sword in agitation, wanting to draw it and tear the high-riders apart.
Variss suppressed his rage, sending a thought-pulse.
"The Emperor has made agreements with their rulers. They have sworn fealty to Him."
"We cannot disobey the Lord of Humanity's commands."
In the 8th month of 899, in the fourth layer of the Kingdom of Disorder,
amidst the churning black mist, Gahlan, wrapped in his black robe, reported to the Black Emperor.
"After the Librarians told us what Father endured, I used the excuse of verifying it and understanding his experience to obtain what You commanded."
He produced a data-slate. "The formula for the anesthetic."
"I have verified it. Its effect exceeds any known anesthetic." The seasoned "Apothecary" said admiringly.
"We also acquired five electro-shock drones and over a dozen other Nucerian artifacts. The Techmarines are studying them."
"From our gathered intelligence, we believe the Emperor's forced teleportation of Father led to him abandoning his slave-brothers..."
"Finally, Kharn, Captain of the 8th Assault Company, volunteered to enter the iron-grey door alone and convinced Father."
With a thought, the data-slate appeared in Nareth's hand.
'Hmm, because of my intervention, three Captains and other senior commanders survived.'
He then asked Gahlan about his observations. The names he listed were familiar.
Dreagher, Captain of the 9th Company, the World Eaters' clearest head, who had repeatedly stopped Kharn from taking risks.
Variss and Librarian Teths, who had opposed Angron during the decimation after the Ghenna campaign, when the Legion failed to take the world within thirty-one hours.
Jerek, the Master of Ordnance and Techmarine, who had insisted on finding a solution rather than blindly walking through the door.
And...
Hoz, the Stormbird squadron commander of the 9th Company, whom Kharn called the only one with "balls." He was the only one who dared speak the truth and propose electing a new Legion Master.
"They are all suitable targets."
'Angron has just returned, and I already have the first batch of senior commanders to recruit.'
'I must say, I'm quite efficient.'
Gahlan breathed a sigh of relief, hearing the Black Emperor approve his initial selections.
All the Black Emperor's predictions about their father had come true, as if He had been on Nuceria Himself.
He looked up with awe at the figure enthroned in the depths of the black mist, then quickly lowered his head to continue.
"The Emperor, learning that Kharn had convinced Father to take command, ordered him to return to Terra for a welcoming ceremony."
Hearing this, Nareth felt a flicker of curiosity.
The welcoming ceremonies for returning Primarchs were political gestures meant to boost Imperial morale, especially among the Terran populace enduring the hardships of the Great Crusade, by letting them see the Emperor's sons.
But given Angron's state, his disdain for the Imperium, and such events, could this really avoid becoming a bloody farce?
'The Emperor and Malcador will probably use psychic power to temporarily suppress Angron, forcing him to stand in the chariot like a puppet.'
'This will only make him hate the Emperor more, as it's similar to what the slavers did.'
'Hmm, besides the ceremony, having Arkhan Land study removing the Nails is another reason the Emperor brought him to Terra.'
With this thought, Nareth sent Gahlan back to reality, then extended his psychic energy, touching another orb.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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