Something is wrong.
Very wrong.
Guilliman paused in the doorway, watching Saguinius hold a cluster of grapes near Yuki's lips as if the rest of the Imperium had ceased to exist.
"What's wrong?" Sanguinius asked gently. "You're not eating, sister."
"I'm not hungry. You eat."
For days now, the Angel of Baal had remained close to Yuki — not intrusively, not possessively, but with an unspoken gravity that drew him to her presence.
Often, no one knew where the Vice-Emperor was.
Yet whenever she appeared…
Sanguinius was already beside her.
A Dependence Unlike the Others
Yuki was finding it increasingly difficult to remain indifferent.
Many of her brothers leaned on her — Horus for reassurance, Guilliman for clarity, Vulkan for warmth.
But this was different.
This was not reliance.
This was seeking anchorage.
Even Horus had never done this.
When Sanguinius was first brought to Terra, he requested time to understand the Imperium before assuming command of his Legion. The Emperor agreed.
Yuki had suggested he learn from Horus — the Warmaster's charisma balanced Sanguinius's introspective depth.
Instead, Sanguinius had requested to study under her.
The Emperor had agreed immediately.
(Yuki had not been consulted.)
In truth, he required little instruction.
A Primarch did not learn the way mortals did.
He absorbed.
Within days, through archives, reports, and histories, Sanguinius grasped the Imperium's structure, philosophy, and contradictions.
Yet he did not leave.
"So," Yuki said at last, "when will you go to Horus?"
Sanguinius smiled and lifted a grape toward her lips.
"Does sister wish me gone?"
"No. But there is little left for me to teach you."
His luminous eyes softened.
"That is acceptable. I can continue studying on Terra."
"Brother," Guilliman began carefully, "you may take whatever texts you require and—"
He stopped.
Why had the temperature dropped?
Sanguinius was smiling at him.
Yuki pinched the Angel's cheek.
"Guilliman, step outside. I need to speak with him."
Guilliman hesitated… then obeyed.
At the door he paused.
He closed it slowly.
He did not eavesdrop.
He stood guard.
Yes.
Guard duty.
The palace soundproofing was… excellent.
Inside the Chamber
Sanguinius gently caught the hand pinching his cheek.
"What troubles you, sister?"
"Are you afraid?"
He paused.
Then he laughed softly.
"Why would you think that?"
"Because you are."
Silence settled between them.
The Fear of Being Different
All his life, Sanguinius had been singular.
On Baal he had been revered as divine.
He knew he was not.
Before meeting the Emperor, he believed his wings and gifts were blessings shared by his brothers.
On Terra he discovered otherwise.
They had no wings.
They did not move with his speed.
They did not wield his grace.
They did not carry the burden of seeing what might come.
Power, he believed, was a form of sin.
Why him?
Why alone?
And if he was an aberration… what fate awaited aberrations in an Imperium built on purity and unity?
Only one exception existed.
Yuki.
Winged. Radiant. Powerful.
Yet clearly intended.
Designed.
Accepted.
He was not.
So he stayed near her.
Not consciously.
Not deliberately.
But instinctively.
Seeking safety.
Seeking recognition.
Seeking… belonging.
Yuki cupped his face and lifted his gaze.
"If the Imperium ever doubts you," she said quietly, "they will doubt me first. As long as I stand here, you will never be the first to be judged."
Sanguinius covered her hands with his own.
"But I am not perfect. You are… far closer."
"No one is perfect," she said, pinching his cheek again. "And perfection is not required. Besides, a foolish Sanguinius is adorable."
"…Sister."
"Yes?"
"I will visit Horus in one month. I should learn to command my Legion."
"Good. Ask him anything. He is an excellent brother."
"Is he patient?"
"…very," she answered cautiously.
Sanguinius smiled.
"Then I am relieved."
Aboard the Vengeful Spirit
"I don't understand," Abaddon muttered furiously. "We stocked enough fruit to feed one hundred thousand Astartes for a month. Which starving heretic devoured it all in one day?"
Sanguinius subtly shifted his wings to block Abaddon's line of sight.
"It wasn't me."
Horus sighed.
"I ate it."
Abaddon froze.
"…you ate… it… Father eats well! He should eat! A strong body is vital to command! I— I will oversee resupply immediately!"
He fled.
He had nearly criticized his gene-sire.
He valued his handwriting too much to risk another transcription punishment.
When they were alone, Sanguinius leaned closer.
"I apologize, brother. I did not realize I had eaten so much."
Horus laughed and clapped his shoulder.
"It was prepared for you."
Yuki had warned him: a brother who loves fruit is coming.
Abaddon had assumed it was for the Legion.
Horus would simply order more.
A good father did not let his sons go without.
Sanguinius studied Horus quietly.
This brother was easy to understand.
Warm.
Open.
Honest in his affections.
Where others might hear boasting in Horus's stories, Sanguinius heard devotion — love for their father and sister expressed without restraint.
It stirred something like envy.
The Angel, who carried burdens silently, admired such openness.
Horus displayed a ring.
"My father gave me this."
A necklace.
"My sister gave me this."
"They are beautiful," Sanguinius said softly, absently touching the ruby earring at his own ear.
Horus liked him immediately.
Not just for his perfection — though the Angel seemed carved from myth — but for something familiar in his presence.
A gravity.
A luminosity.
A reflection of the Emperor… and of Yuki.
"You spent much time on Terra," Horus said.
"Yes. I studied with my sister."
Horus's expression sharpened.
"You met Malcador?"
Sanguinius blinked.
"…yes?"
"Be careful of him," Horus said quietly. "He is dangerous. Tell me if he involves you in anything."
Sanguinius thought of the weary old regent who labored without rest… and of the staged arguments in the Ministry.
Something did not align.
Could the true danger lie elsewhere?
He did not voice the thought.
Some lessons cannot be taught.
They must be lived.
And when Horus learned…
It would be… illuminating.
Sanguinius smiled.
The future was approaching.
And it would not be dull.
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