Especially when Rogal Dorn and Fulgrim were constantly conversing.
"They locked you outside?!"
The Chemosian's eyes widened, his face showing complete disbelief.
"How could they?!"
"Considering they never do anything superfluous, I assume it was Father's order," Rogal Dorn replied emotionlessly.
"Father, at worst, just didn't explain something, but when he locked us all outside without even wanting to see us?!"
Fulgrim turned around sharply.
"Ferrus!"
"…Mm."
"Smash that damn door! If Father really doesn't want to see us, he should say so personally, not through his guard!"
"…Perhaps we should wait a little longer."
Ferrus Manus averted his gaze to avoid meeting Fulgrim's eyes and seeing the expression on his face.
The Iron Hand spoke with unexpected calmness:
"As Rogal said, the Adeptus Custodes obey only Father's orders, so… it's better to wait."
"Konrad is already downstairs!"
Fulgrim frowned angrily.
"We don't even know why the Adeptus Custodes went there now; they are silent, Father is silent… Wait? Should we wait for the worst to happen before making a decision?"
"Father will not allow what you imagine, Fulgrim," Rogal Dorn shook his head calmly.
"But…"
"Wait," Rogal Dorn said quietly. "Be patient and wait…"
"There is no longer any need for that."
The study door opened, and a giant in golden armor slowly emerged. He walked unhurriedly, with his hands clasped behind his back; a laurel wreath fit his head perfectly, as if it were an integral part of it.
"Father!" Fulgrim almost shouted. "What is happening?!"
The Emperor glanced at him but was in no hurry to answer, letting his two other sons speak.
"Father."
Rogal Dorn remained silent, merely bowing his head in respect – and nothing more. Fulgrim glared at him, as if not understanding why Dorn was so submissive.
And as for Ferrus…
The Iron Hand sighed quietly.
"Father, Konrad…"
"I know," the Emperor nodded calmly. "Let him go; there's nothing to worry about."
"But why did you send your guard there?"
Fulgrim asked anxiously, "To help Kariél Lohars clear out this hive? But he refused our help."
"No."
The Emperor shook his head calmly.
He was taller than his sons; he looked down at them, but at that moment, Rogal Dorn clearly saw the deepest sadness in the eyes of his almighty father.
"Not to help him clear out the hive, but to help him himself."
He paused and repeated, "He needs help, otherwise I would never have intervened."
"But you have intervened," Ferrus frowned. "How do we sort this out now? And also, your guard said you were just fighting in the study."
"That is so."
The Emperor nodded slightly.
"But it is not a war that you can see, and you should not see it…"
"Are you not going to explain anything to us?" Fulgrim asked persistently. "We stood at your study for so long."
"I have explained enough."
The Emperor closed his eyes, and for a moment, a slight weariness flashed in them. Dorn frowned, his face became serious, but he remained silent.
"But…"
"…Fulgrim."
The Emperor looked at his favorite son, and for the first time, there was some expression on his face, but it was so complex that it was impossible to understand.
"…Father?" the Chemosian asked, raising his head in confusion.
"Do not inquire about this. Do not investigate, do not gather scraps of information, and do not try to piece together the so-called truth. You should not know this; no one should know this."
He paused again, and Rogal Dorn saw him take a breath, while the other two took it as a deliberate pause to emphasize his words.
Dorn pursed his lips.
"Forget it," the Emperor commanded. "Understood?"
Ferrus nodded after a moment of silence. He didn't know the reasons, but he would obey. Fulgrim did the same, albeit with some reluctance.
And Rogal Dorn…
He simply remained silent. While his brothers were engrossed in their father's words, only he met his gaze.
Looking into those eyes, doubt flickered across Dorn's face.
And the Emperor…
He just slowly shook his head.
"No words are needed, Rogal. You already know the necessity of silence…"
He turned, re-entered the study, and the heavy door closed behind him.
***
Kariél woke up from a jolt. He felt himself being lifted upwards, and the movement sent pain through his wound, forcing him to open his eyes.
"Where am I?"
Less than a second later, a familiar pale face appeared before him.
"Ah, Ghost. Good evening…"
Kariél smiled and nodded, already knowing the answer. He greeted hoarsely, "Good evening."
The Night Haunter nodded dryly. He tried to maintain an impassive expression, but Kariél could discern the hidden emotions from the small details.
He always knew how to do that.
"I'm fine," he said quietly. "Just a minor wound… Where is the spear?"
"…Returned to the Adeptus Custodes," the Ghost replied quietly. "They've already left."
"Is that so…"
Kariél turned his head and looked around the cabin.
Metal panels, seats, seatbelts, and clouds rushing past the porthole. This familiar yet alien scene momentarily confused him, but in the next second, Kariél suppressed the feeling.
"I saw you in a vision," the Ghost said, turning away, in his quietest voice.
"Really?"
What else could Kariél say? He wasn't surprised.
"You…" the Ghost took a deep breath. "You lost control, didn't you?"
"Yes," Kariél admitted.
"How did it happen?" the Ghost asked.
"Because… I was careless. I have an arrogant habit of taking everything upon myself."
Kariél said thoughtfully, and then even smiled, "And I didn't even realize how arrogant I was before, it's funny."
"Arrogant?"
"Yes, arrogant. Or rather, it's a sense of responsibility in the spirit of 'no one but me.' I seem to have some psychological problems, Ghost, and that's very bad."
"Problems? What problems?" the Ghost asked insistently. He subtly turned his head and now looked at Kariél's eyes without blinking.
"What, are you asking to help me solve them?" Kariél winked at him and chuckled quietly.
"…Yes," the Ghost replied hoarsely. "I want to help you."
Kariél sighed involuntarily – he had already seen how much the Ghost had grown.
Just a few days, and such progress… but he was still so vulnerable when it came to him.
"This is very bad, Ghost," Kariél narrowed his eyes.
"You can't help me," he replied calmly.
The Ghost pursed his lips but didn't argue, waiting for Kariél's next words. He knew that Kariél would definitely explain.
And indeed, after a moment, Kariél said quietly,
"Everyone has a void in their heart, Ghost."
"Some fill it with the dust of the departed, some with alcohol or debauchery. And most simply ignore its existence. As for me… I haven't found a way yet. Even I don't know the solution, so how can you help me?"
"But you should at least talk about it, right?…"
"Words can't describe it."
Kariél shook his head.
"In fact, most people don't even notice that there's a void in their heart… For example, Ghost, have you noticed?"
The Night Haunter replied to Kariél with his signature expression, and he laughed, rolled over, and got up from the floor.
The Ghost tensed involuntarily, his gaze following Kariél's every movement, trying to understand what he was going to do.
But Kariél just walked over to the pilot's cabin and politely greeted him.
"This…"
"Aquilon, Lord Kariél Lohars, I am from the Emperor's Children legion."
"Ah, from the legion of that very Fulgrim? By the way, please don't add 'lord' to my name. You can just call me by name, Mr. Aquilon."
"…Am I misunderstanding High Gothic, or does your 'mister' sound a bit distant?"
Kariél chuckled quietly, patted the back of the pilot's seat, and said softly, "Thank you for giving Konrad a ride."
"It's nothing, my lord…"
"'Lord' again?"
"That's the etiquette," Aquilon said softly but firmly.
"…Alright, but I won't call you 'mister,' Aquilon. You are an interesting person."
"Thank you, Lord Kariél."
Grinning, Kariél, holding his chest, turned and sat in the seat. He slowly fastened his seatbelt and nodded to the still-standing Ghost.
"…"
Konrad Curze, with a rare sigh for him, turned, sat down, and quickly fastened his seatbelt.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan