Meeting his gaze, Rogal Dorn slowly continued: "The weapons of these gangs are far from crude. There may be homemade ones among them, but we have all seen laser and automatic rifles – technologies of bygone eras that they still use, and quite effectively."
"He has no power armor, no weapons, and he alone is capable of this?"
The rock-like giant slowly shook his head. For the first time, a complex, unreadable emotion was reflected on his stone-carved face.
"...Horrifying," he said slowly.
"Horrifying?" Fulgrim raised an eyebrow. "Why is that, brother? He is dispensing justice. Doesn't the death of these scum bring you pleasure?"
"I'm not talking about his actions."
"Then what are you talking about?"
"About the determination behind his actions."
The wrinkles on Rogal Dorn's forehead deepened. Although they appeared so often that they had become almost his trademark, the seriousness in his voice made Fulgrim straighten up.
"...Kariél Lohars possesses an almost fanatical moral code."
Fulgrim nodded in agreement.
"He doesn't take trophies from the dead, doesn't desecrate their bodies for revenge, and doesn't even allow himself to feel joy or satisfaction from the slaughter. This is what Ferrus and I observed, and Konrad's account was even more detailed."
"From his words, we can understand that Kariél Lohars is not just fanatical. He is also extremely sensitive."
"The suffering and indifference of the lower classes cause him pain. Remember, Konrad said he cried during the story? A person of low moral character is incapable of that… And now he…"
Dorn sighed heavily.
"'He kills to stop killings'," he said hoarsely. "The most foolish and at the same time the most effective way."
"...I don't understand."
Fulgrim frowned, and at that moment he became a little like Dorn.
"In my opinion, all the gangs and aristocrats on Nostramo deserve death. Once they are gone, all other problems will be easy to solve. What he is doing is undoubtedly right. Why are you so pessimistic, Rogal?"
"Because of who is doing it."
Dorn shook his head.
"I've seen many fanatics, brother… In the end, this obsession either drives them mad or forces them to learn to live with it, distorting their essence."
"The past shapes character, and character shapes everything else, Fulgrim. Your past was too bright. You peacefully reclaimed your world, so you don't know what real blood is."
"After my return, I fought no less than you!" the Chemosian exclaimed irritably, crossing his arms over his chest. It wasn't the first time Rogal Dorn had annoyed him.
"Battles can also be different."
The "Rock" looked at the map projection with a very serious expression.
"Sometimes it's enough to give a few orders from behind the front lines, and artillery and bombers will solve everything. But sometimes war forces you to see the cruelest, darkest side of human nature…"
"I have seen it many times, and each time it made me shudder. And now Kariél Lohars has encountered it."
He raised his hand, pointing to a rapidly moving red dot, and slowly shook his head again.
Fulgrim sighed involuntarily. Rogal Dorn was always like that. He always found a way to convince you from his point of view and in his special tone, no matter how unpleasant and infuriating his words were…
But Fulgrim respected him.
He respected him not because Dorn was his brother, nor for his merits. He respected Dorn because he was almost always right. Reflections after each of their quarrels only proved this.
"But at what cost does eternal rightness and unwavering honesty come, brother?"
Looking at the giant with ash-white hair, Fulgrim decided to change the subject.
"Want to guess where Ferrus is now, Rogal?" he asked in a deliberately lighthearted tone.
"Where else would he be? As soon as you arrived, he took that elegant box and left. Considering that you train with Konrad every day, it's not hard to guess that he took the opportunity to bring Konrad a gift."
"And you're smart," Fulgrim snapped irritably.
"Did you say everything I need to say now?"
"I'm not smart," Dorn replied seriously. "I just analyze and calculate well. That's all."
"...Okay, well… Eh, I just don't know how to talk to you."
The Chemosian lowered his head in annoyance and returned to his notes.
But it didn't last long.
A short giant in purple and gold armor entered the room. He was significantly shorter than the two Primarchs, but this did not diminish his warlike appearance in the least. Fulgrim turned and smiled joyfully.
"Aquilon!" he exclaimed warmly. "What wind brought you here? I told you all to rest properly."
"...Primarch," Aquilon pursed his lips. "And Your Majesty Lord Dorn…"
Dorn nodded slowly to him as a sign of respect. Aquilon deserved it.
Fulgrim frowned.
"...What happened?" he asked in a different tone. "I rarely see you with such an expression."
"...Adeptus Custodes," Aquilon said with difficulty. "They are deploying. In full battle regalia."
Fulgrim jumped up sharply.
…
"Good evening, Konrad."
Ferrus decided to start with this phrase. He had rehearsed it many times in his mind, but in the end, he settled on a simple greeting.
It was simple, direct, and at the same time polite.
"Ferrus!" Konrad smiled and stepped aside, letting his brother into the room.
Warmth and trust sounded in his voice, and this somehow embarrassed Ferrus.
The Iron Hand frowned irritably: "What's wrong with you?"
"Ferrus?"
"...You're studying so hard, Konrad," Ferrus changed the subject. "So many notes? Did Fulgrim give you so much homework?"
"What? No, of course not!"
Konrad Curze was surprised by his words – Ferrus Manus's voice had become very cold, and he even suspected that they might fight because of it.
The pale giant hurried to explain: "I just took a few books and made a few more notes! Fulgrim has nothing to do with it!"
Ferrus raised an eyebrow, noticing that the pendant Konrad Curze had thrown was hanging around his neck again.
"...That's good."
Ferrus nodded.
"Anyway, I brought you knives."
He brought his right hand out from behind his back, and the elegant black wooden box immediately caught Curze's attention.
Only in such moments did he behave according to his age. Ferrus grunted with satisfaction, placed the box in his hands, and walked over to Konrad's desk.
"Don't mind if I take a look?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Of course… no," Konrad Curze replied distractedly.
Ferrus Manus smiled. Although he stood with his back to his brother and no one saw it, he truly smiled.
Tilting his head, the Iron Hand began to sort through the notes. He did it very carefully, picking up each sheet as if it were a jewel. And in fact, he treated these written sheets as treasures.
These papers captured the process of a soul's rapid growth, a heart yearning for knowledge, and its kindness.
Ferrus almost sighed: "Kariél Lohars, how did you manage to protect him so well?"
He asked himself this question and tried to imagine himself in his place, but after a few minutes, he had to give up the thought.
"I couldn't," Ferrus thought calmly. "I would never be able to make Konrad Curze what he is now. In fact, if I were here…"
He sighed.
"I wouldn't be myself. I would become anyone, but not Ferrus Manus."
Circumstances change a person, so imperceptibly and so strongly. Ferrus involuntarily began to imagine a world where they were not separated. The faces of his brothers shone in his thoughts, and in each of their eyes was such vitality…
Yes, although Ferrus Manus was taciturn and did not seek friendship with his brothers, he loved them.
"Ferrus?"
Konrad Curze's voice came from behind him. The Iron Hand turned with a hidden smile and saw a face still shining with surprise and joy.
"Thank you!" the pale giant exclaimed enthusiastically, raising the blades. They lay obediently in his palms as if made for them.
A pearl-white stone shone on the black leather handle, harmonizing with the silver of the blade. The blade was beautiful and deadly.
Ferrus involuntarily thanked Fulgrim again – he understood perfectly that he himself could never have made it so perfect.
"No thanks are needed," the Iron Hand nodded with a smile. "Just a small favor…"
He smiled, Konrad Curze smiled back – it could have been a warm moment, but a sharp knock on the door shattered everything.
Fulgrim's voice came from outside:
"Ferrus, Konrad! Come out quickly!" he called urgently. "Faster!"
Curze turned around in confusion, and then looked at Ferrus again.
"What happened, Ferrus?" he asked.
Ferrus Manus did not answer, only slowly narrowed his eyes.
"I want to know what happened too."
He walked towards the door.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan