"This is the Ministry of State Affairs. Most administrative matters of Terra and the wider Imperium are processed here."
"Oh."
As usual, Yuki guided Lorgar through Terra's central institutions. The Primarch of the XVII Legion walked beside her, attentive but clearly unenthused.
His mind was elsewhere.
Not on administration.
Not on governance.
But on a vision of a galaxy illuminated by truth — and faith.
Yuki smiled.
"Would you like to go inside?"
Lorgar considered.
"Guilliman works here, does he not?"
"Yes."
"Then we should look."
Inside, the first thing visible was paper.
Endless paper.
Stacked in leaning towers, bundled in coded cords, sealed in wax and stacked again.
Reports from frontier worlds.
Tax registers.
Population movements.
Compliance tallies.
Industrial quotas.
Military provisioning manifests.
Originally, entire archival wings had been built to contain such material.
They had filled within months.
Now the overflow spilled into corridors.
Clerks moved like currents through the mountains of data, styluses whispering across parchment slates. No one looked up. Work allowed no distractions.
Yuki glanced back.
"Well? Interested in working here with Guilliman?"
Lorgar shook his head immediately.
Conquest, enlightenment, conversion — those were worthy tasks.
Drowning in parchment was not.
"Pity," Yuki said lightly, and continued forward.
They soon reached Guilliman's office.
A knock.
A pause.
They entered.
Guilliman looked up from a cascade of approval seals.
He saw Yuki.
Then Lorgar.
Something in his spine tightened.
This felt familiar.
Dangerously familiar.
Yuki smiled brightly.
Guilliman shivered involuntarily.
Lorgar looked around the office like an earnest student visiting a scholar's study.
"Brother… so this is where you work?"
Guilliman gave him a complicated look.
"Yes."
(And quite possibly where you will suffer.)
Yuki dropped into a chair.
"Guilliman, what have you been working on?"
"We have secured several strategically valuable frontier worlds. Malcador and I are drafting long-term stabilization and integration plans."
"A critical issue," Yuki nodded, lifting a document. "These worlds will become logistics anchors, supply corridors, and fallback lines if the Crusade stalls. If they fail, the front collapses."
She flipped another page.
"They are newly compliant. Loyalty is shallow. Cultural identity remains local. What is your proposal?"
Guilliman paused briefly.
"Improve living standards. Establish infrastructure. Integrate Imperial law. Introduce Imperial symbols and civic identity."
Lorgar, who had been silent, leaned forward slightly.
"Ah… about that."
Yuki closed the document.
"Excellent. I leave implementation to you."
"Ahem."
Both looked at Lorgar.
"If the Imperium requires shared symbols," he said carefully, "would not monumental architecture serve? A cathedral, for example?"
Guilliman's eyes hardened.
"Lorgar. Have you read the Imperial Truth?"
"Yes."
"Then why suggest a church?"
Lorgar's tone remained calm.
"You speak of unity. Of identity. Of symbols. What symbol unifies humanity more completely than the Emperor?"
Silence.
Silence.
Yuki sipped tea.
"Why are you both looking at me?"
What followed was not an argument.
It was a siege.
Guilliman deployed logistics, sociology, and historical precedent.
Lorgar countered with psychology, symbolism, and mass identity cohesion.
Guilliman cited compliance stability data.
Lorgar cited cultural cohesion patterns in pre-Old Night civilizations.
Guilliman invoked secular unity.
Lorgar invoked spiritual solidarity.
To an outsider, it would resemble vicious insults.
In truth, it was two strategic minds waging doctrinal war.
Guilliman felt as if he were wrestling a silver-tongued magistrate capable of arguing gravity out of existence.
Finally, he exhaled sharply.
"Sister. Whose side are you on?"
"This has nothing to do with me."
Both fell silent.
This was Guilliman's jurisdiction.
He did not need to win.
He only needed to decide.
Yuki stood.
"Come, Lorgar. The tour is finished. Soon you will depart with your Legion."
Lorgar glanced back.
Guilliman's expression seemed… smug?
Fine.
If this is how it is.
Then there is only one logical path.
He did not move.
"Sister. I wish to join the Imperial Cabinet."
Yuki blinked.
"…what?"
"You heard me."
"You said you had no interest in administration."
"I have reconsidered," Lorgar said calmly. "I believe I can better serve humanity here."
Inside, his thoughts aligned with perfect clarity:
Conquest spreads influence planet by planet.
Policy reshapes entire sectors.
Faith enforced through decree spreads faster than faith carried by fleets.
Why had he not seen it sooner?
Yuki watched him carefully.
"But Guilliman serves here because the Ultramarines function efficiently without his presence. Your Legion—"
"The Word Bearers will function."
The stubbornness of Colchis had awakened.
Yuki smiled slowly.
"I will speak with Father."
She left.
And Lorgar could have sworn she skipped.
He turned to Guilliman with quiet triumph.
You see?
But Guilliman's expression was not anger.
Not irritation.
Pity.
"…why are you looking at me like that?"
Guilliman leaned back.
"Brother, I once believed I would spend my life leading armies across the stars."
"And?"
"I came here for a temporary assignment."
He gestured around the office.
"And never left."
Lorgar stared.
Guilliman added softly:
"Just like this moment."
Meanwhile — Training Grounds
Kor Phaeron lay on a medical slab, teeth clenched.
"This will hurt."
"Pain indicates improvement," he rasped.
The implantation and augmentation process had been brutal.
More brutal than expected.
When it ended, he rose — and realized something was wrong.
He was enhanced.
Stronger.
Harder.
But not equal.
"You were too old," the apothecary said flatly. "Full gene-seed adaptation was impossible. You are… augmented."
"Why was I not told this before?"
Because you would not have agreed.
Before Kor Phaeron could erupt, the chamber fell silent.
Giants entered.
Not Astartes.
Older.
Heavier.
Terrifying.
"I am Vilitas," the leader said, voice like grinding iron, "Commander attached to the XVII Legion training cadre. You are the new intake."
His gaze lingered briefly on Kor Phaeron.
Then moved on.
"The Colchis training complex is unfinished. You will proceed to Terra Military Scholam for indoctrination and tactical education."
Kor Phaeron sneered.
"Why attend a scholam? Why not join the Crusade immediately?"
Vilitas regarded him.
"Because the Vice-Emperor decreed that all Legions shall maintain standardized doctrinal training. Without discipline, strength is useless."
"What if I refuse?"
"Then you may return to Colchis. You will not serve in the Crusade."
Kor Phaeron laughed harshly.
"I am Lorgar's father."
Vilitas laughed louder.
His hand closed around Kor Phaeron's throat and lifted him effortlessly.
"The Emperor is the Primarch's father."
He released him.
Kor Phaeron collapsed, choking.
Hatred burned behind his eyes.
A Word Bearer entered and saluted.
"My lord Vilitas. The Primarch reports he has joined Imperial administrative duties. The XVII Legion is to remain under training command."
Kor Phaeron froze.
Vilitas nodded.
"Inform Lord Lorgar the Legion will be forged into exemplary compliance forces. Discipline first. Glory later."
He looked down at the recruits.
"Training begins now."
Kor Phaeron remained kneeling.
Not in submission.
In calculation.
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