"I regret it."
"What did you say?"
"I said, I regret it."
Guilliman was not a man prone to hallucinations.
He had slept little, worked continuously, and reviewed enough administrative reports to collapse a lesser mind — but surely that was not sufficient cause to imagine Magnus the Red clinging to Yuki's leg, howling like an aggrieved child.
Yet here Magnus sat, red hair disheveled, expression wounded, dignity abandoned.
Yuki sipped her tea calmly.
"Sit properly and explain yourself. What kind of behavior is this? Throwing a tantrum in the Ministry of State Affairs?"
Magnus dropped into the chair beside her with theatrical misery.
"Sister, can you tell them to stop interfering with me? I am not a fool. I will not be deceived."
Yuki smiled coldly.
"Is that so? From where I stand, you are already being deceived."
The Thousand Sons
Among all Legions, the Fifteenth had received Yuki's most meticulous attention.
From the earliest days of the Great Expedition, their selection protocols were the most stringent.
Psychic stability.
Mental resilience.
Resistance to Warp predation.
Absolute doctrinal discipline.
Even when the Zero Legion required reinforcements, Yuki had diverted candidates to the Fifteenth.
Before Magnus returned, the Legion numbered nearly ten thousand warriors — the Imperium's foremost psychic specialists and arcane warfare force.
Magnus had been delighted.
The reunion was awkward.
But he loved them immediately.
To commemorate the thousand warriors present on the day of his arrival, Magnus renamed the Legion:
The Thousand Sons.
He then presented each of those thousand with a small warp-construct familiar.
Harmless.
Curious.
Harmless, he insisted.
They resembled tiny luminous creatures — drifting motes of thought, whispering fragments of emotion, flickers of unreal color.
Magnus called them companions.
Ahriman crushed his.
"Father," he said, eyes blazing, "have you been deceived by warp entities?"
Magnus looked mournfully at the dissipating psychic motes.
"They were harmless manifestations of the Great Ocean."
Nearby, Ormuzd crushed another.
"There are no harmless warp entities."
Magnus soon understood: his sons had been forged through brutal conditioning rituals designed to resist daemonic influence. They knew the Warp's horrors intimately.
They trusted nothing within it.
Magnus did not abolish their indoctrination.
He simply resolved to broaden their understanding.
Knowledge required perspective.
He provided more constructs.
They destroyed more constructs.
Within days, the Legion resembled a purification furnace.
The Pursuit of Father
Magnus adapted.
If they rejected instruction…
he would simply conduct private study.
The moment he projected into the Immaterium—
"Father."
He was dragged back.
If he entered deeper strata—
"Father."
He was dragged back.
If he attempted subtle projection—
"Father."
He was dragged back.
Soon, entire squads were deploying to retrieve him.
Ten thousand Astartes.
Hunting their Primarch.
To prevent him from "wandering unsupervised."
Magnus was nearing psychological collapse.
He had become the monitored party.
Not the father.
But they were his sons.
And they were loyal.
And he had accepted them.
Therefore he endured.
But he would not surrender his pursuit of knowledge.
The Tantrum
Today, Magnus timed his protest perfectly.
He waited until Yuki sat down in her office.
Then he knelt beside her chair and howled.
He wanted access to the Warp.
Yuki could not understand him.
When she first discovered psychic power, she had tested its limits cautiously.
Magnus, however, treated the Warp like a cosmic university.
With forbidden faculty.
Guilliman sat nearby, reviewing documents while absolutely not watching the spectacle.
Yuki glanced sideways.
"Guilliman. Do you love studying?"
He prepared a speech on civic responsibility and enlightened governance.
She raised a hand.
"Honestly."
"…no."
She turned to Magnus.
"Little Magnus. Learning from reality is one thing. Why insist on studying the Warp?"
Magnus straightened proudly.
"What is the material universe? A shallow reflection. The Great Ocean contains the true mysteries of existence."
"The Warp is dangerous."
"Do not patronize me, sister," Magnus waved dismissively. "Yes, it has dangers. But to deny its value is ignorance."
He produced a small luminous creature from his palm.
A shimmering blue avian shape composed of psychic light.
"It is for you."
Yuki stared.
Tzeentch, somewhere in the Immaterium, was undoubtedly pleased.
She still could not understand why Magnus encountered "friendly" entities while her own excursions attracted only predatory horrors.
Guilliman spoke carefully:
"The Warp is the domain of hostile intelligences. How can you be certain these manifestations are not placed deliberately?"
Magnus smiled.
"Then I benefit. By studying them, I learn the Warp's mechanisms."
Yuki laughed helplessly.
Magnus and the Emperor shared the same flaw:
the belief that they could outwit cosmic predators.
Guilliman shook his head.
"If understanding the Warp requires such risk, I will remain ignorant."
Magnus regarded him with mild pity.
"You see only danger. I see knowledge."
But in truth, Magnus suffered from the same blindness he accused others of possessing:
he saw the promise, not the price.
Yuki's Dilemma
She could not forbid Magnus.
He would proceed secretly.
She could not permit him freely.
The consequences could be catastrophic.
She could not monitor him constantly.
Even she could not guarantee detecting Tzeentch's manipulations.
Delay.
Delay was survival.
She pressed her temples.
"How about this," she said. "Your brothers have not all returned. When they have, if more support your research than oppose it, I will permit supervised study."
Magnus considered.
"May I continue studying until then?"
"You may conduct limited research on Terra under Thousand Sons supervision."
"Three projects."
"Half."
"…one."
"Good."
He departed, visibly satisfied.
Yuki exhaled.
At least now he had something to anticipate.
Less reason to sneak away.
Guilliman frowned.
"You are too accommodating."
"If Magnus errs," she said quietly, "the consequences will be second only to my father and myself."
Guilliman fell silent.
He could not sway Magnus.
But he could influence the vote when the time came.
He could persuade the brothers.
He could mobilize reason.
He suddenly noticed something.
"Where is the Prime Minister?"
Yuki sipped her tea.
"He was speaking with Russ."
The door opened.
Malcador entered, face composed in that terrifying calm of a man beyond surprise.
"Princess," he said evenly, "you should come."
Yuki straightened.
"What happened?"
Malcador paused.
"Magnus and Russ are fighting."
Yuki blinked.
"…what?"
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