The Lost Primarch Quest

A Mutual Problem

Somewhere inside the Black Library…

When Orion Jesk first heard that the Legion had established contact—and, in some ways, an alliance—with the Aeldari, he was uncertain how to process the news. His most recent encounter with Karqel and his Kabal had ended in a bitter defeat, leaving the Knight-Warden less than eager to work with any Eldar, let alone venture into one of their strongholds.

However, Oriacarius clarified the distinction between the different factions of the Eldar. Orion faced the Drukhari, the Dark Eldar, in contrast to the Craftworld Eldar, who were their more disciplined and less malevolent kin. While this explanation didn't fully convince him of the wisdom or validity of the alliance, Orion chose not to challenge the decision.

When the First Captain requested that he and his companions, Estrith and Makima, assist Maticus and a task force under his command, Orion was at least glad to return to the routine of aiding his brothers after two decades away.

Upon arrival, Orion discovered that the strategic groundwork had already been laid out by Corvus Corax and his Raven Guard. It was surreal to encounter another Primarch unexpectedly in such a place, but even more so to learn that the Lord of Ravens wasn't the only Primarch to have graced the Black Library.

Roboute Guilliman and his Ultramarines had also entered into an alliance, although not to the extent of Magnus the Red or Corvus Corax—at least, not yet. This realization made Orion ponder if the Eldar extended a similar offer to the White Scars; the Khan might seriously entertain the idea.

When Orion learned that Magnus the Red and the 15th were already allied, he wasn't surprised. He had long been briefed on the attempted burning of Prospero by a so-called "rogue" element of the Black Brigades, citing illegal psychic research and harboring Eldar as justification.

Three legions and their Primarchs—four if you counted Kesar and the Eternal Wardens—were now part of an unsanctioned alliance. If the Emperor ever found out, his wrath would be unimaginable. Even the Celestial Dominion viewed the Eldar as adversaries to their ambitions.

Orion couldn't shake the feeling that this was a perilous path for the legion. Aliens, after all, were fundamentally other. Their understanding of human intentions and designs could never go beyond a superficial grasp. There would always be a risk of misunderstanding in their interactions.
Still, Orion remained eager to assist in eliminating the Chaos-corrupted Aeldari that had entrenched themselves on the massive structure. One less group of abominations in the galaxy was always a victory. Despite his lingering reservations, his experience battling the Eldar made his participation in this mission seem tactically sound.

For now, though, he and his fellow Wardens awaited deployment orders. As a captain, Orion had been given access to some of the 'guest quarters' within the Black Library, a fascinating and unnerving place. Wandering through its halls, he noticed humans and various minor alien species mingling in certain areas, an unusual sight for an Astartes.

After his experiences with the Celestial Dominion, Orion found himself less uncomfortable with this odd diversity than he might have expected—though he doubted many of his brothers felt the same. Even so, he steered clear of these gatherings, seeking solitude to think and meditate on what lay ahead.

Eventually, he discovered an empty vantage point overlooking a sprawling garden of vivid blue and red flora, the view one might expect in a noble's private estate. It struck him as strange that such a breathtaking sight was left unattended, devoid of any onlookers. As he gazed upon the surreal landscape, he couldn't help but wish his family could be there to share the moment. However, Estrith was occupied with preparations, and Makima had staunchly refused to enter any place frequented by Aeldari.

"I suppose the Eldar know how to appreciate beauty, at least," Orion muttered as he took in the view. Yet, despite its striking scenery, this place felt strange to him. The skyline was unnaturally perfect, the air too clean, as though the entire environment had been crafted rather than naturally formed. Wraithbone, which made up so much of the Eldar's architecture, might have been organic to them, but to him, it felt artificial.

He allowed himself a rare moment of peace, sitting on a wraithbone bench and closing his eyes. His thoughts drifted to Aelred. The boy was safe for now, but Orion couldn't shake the worry that he'd soon receive news of some reckless adventure—or worse, that Aelred had gotten himself entangled in a more personal complication. He could easily imagine a letter with the dreaded news that Aelred had gotten someone pregnant or something similarly life-altering.

Orion's thoughts then turned to his friends among the White Scars. He wondered when they would truly shine, reaching the heights of greatness that he and the Khan had glimpsed during the Grand Naadam or their battles against the Unholy Trinity. It was odd to realize that he had forged stronger bonds with members of another legion than with his own. His brothers had noticed, too.

An Astartes who had taken on a wife, a mistress, and a son—that was practically unheard of. To his fellow Wardens, it made him seem alien, perhaps even untrustworthy. Sometimes, he questioned whether he had allowed his compassion and desires to interfere with his duty and honor—or even with simple common sense. But then, Orion would think of his family. They were happy. He was happy. Didn't that count for something?

These questions shouldn't have been difficult to answer, yet they weighed heavily on Orion. Perhaps it was because he had no one to confide in about such matters. How does an Astartes even begin to discuss family, love, or relationships? Talking to serfs or ordinary humans would be out of the question—too embarrassing, too exposing.

His brothers were no help either, though Orion couldn't fault them for that. None had been reckless enough to dive into such complexities without asking themselves if they were equipped to pursue such things. He had been fortunate that both Estrith and Makima were so understanding. The thought of being married to a civilian woman, someone unversed in the life he led, was almost painful to contemplate.

Durante and Vergil might have been the closest he had to confidants on the matter, but their relationship was an anomaly. Unique in ways that defied conventional labels, Orion wasn't even sure if they saw each other as romantic partners anymore. Then there was Auro and Shandra—a different case entirely. Estrith had described them as "work spouses," and she had been clear in her warning not to complicate their bond with personal questions.

It left Orion feeling isolated, navigating an unfamiliar terrain without a map. His choices, though unconventional, had brought him happiness, yet they had also placed him in a position where he couldn't easily share his thoughts or seek advice. Such a strange dilemma to have as an Astartes.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that Orion almost missed the presence of another Astartes joining him on the terrace. The Knight-Warden turned to see a warrior clad in the crimson and gold heraldry of the Thousand Sons.

"Ah, good; my visions were accurate," the new arrival remarked warmly. He was strikingly handsome, with sandy blonde hair and jade green eyes, and he wore the insignia of a Praetor. "Captain Jesk," he greeted, his tone friendly. "I hope I'm not intruding on your moment of peace."

"No intrusion at all, Praetor," Orion replied, nodding respectfully to the senior officer of the 15th Legion. "I wasn't exactly relaxing—just lost in thought."

The Praetor returned the nod. "It's easy to get lost in thought here. The Black Library is both majestic and profoundly alien to those unaccustomed to it, if you'll pardon the expression."

Orion snorted. "That's putting it lightly. Xenos everywhere—it puts me on edge." He rose from the bench, turning his gaze back to the view. "At least they know to keep their distance."

"Stay long enough, and that might change. The Harlequins are always up to something," the Praetor said as he joined Orion at the railing. "I'm Kazar Loia of the Corvidae Cult."

Orion considered what he knew of the Thousand Sons and their many disciplines. "The same cult Ahzek Ahriman commands, correct?"

"That's right." Kazar nodded. "I was one of many apprentices under him, though I eventually drifted, as others did." Orion noticed Kazar's right arm was bionic, his mechanical hand gripping the wraithbone railing with practiced ease. "I earned my rank but not much else."

"Hmph." Orion nodded, understanding the sentiment. He had become captain after the battle at Blacksmoke, but it hadn't brought him the recognition or respect he had anticipated. "Yet some of my brothers still see me as a hero, and that... feels uncomfortable."

"You're well-regarded in certain circles," Kazar remarked. "The riders of Chogoris and the scholars of Prospero often share stories, and they speak highly of the Angel of Humility and his contributions to the Khan's campaign in the badlands."

Orion grimaced at the mention of that nickname. "A theatrical title, nothing more."

"Titles like that can spread tales of your deeds, even inspire future champions," Kazar said with a shrug. "We don't get to choose our names or the legends that form around us, but we can decide who understands the truth behind them."

"Someone close, yes," Orion agreed with a nod. "I understand that well enough."

Kazar gave a small, knowing smile before his expression became hesitant. "There's something I'd like to ask, but I'd prefer we speak as men, not as officers. Just two individuals, without the titles of Captain or Praetor. Would you humor me in that?"

It was an unusual request but one Orion found reasonable enough. "If that's what you wish, Kazar, I have no objections."

"Thank you." Kazar nodded appreciatively. "I'd rather not hide behind formalities for what is, admittedly, a personal question."

"Trying to avoid any unnecessary awkwardness?" Orion offered.

"Exactly," He admitted with a slight chuckle. "I've heard rumors, and I wanted to ask directly: Is it true that you're married?"

It was an unusual question but one Orion had anticipated at some point. He nodded. "Yes, it's true. I'm married and have the paperwork to prove it."

Kazar quickly waved off the need for proof. "Oh, I don't doubt you—just wanted to hear it from you. And is it also true that you have... a second partner?"

Orion nodded again, a bit more reserved this time. "Yes, that's true as well."

Bizarrely enough, Kazar appeared more embarrassed by the direction of the conversation than Orion was, "Good, that's... well, useful to me."

"It is?" Orion tried to grasp what Kazar was getting at. "Is there a point to these questions?"

"Yes, actually." Kazar cleared his throat, clearly uneasy. "I have two female lovers, and I was hoping for some advice on how to... well, I guess I just need advice on everything."

There were many strange things Orion expected to be asked, but this certainly wasn't one of them. "You have two female lovers? How long?"

"Almost twenty-five years now."

"Then you've got more experience than me," Orion pointed out. "Estrith and I have been married for less than ten, and Makima has only been in the picture for five."

"True, but my relationships have been a bit more... distant," Kazar admitted. "And certain barriers are coming into play."

"Such as?" Orion guessed they might be troopers, psykers, or civilians.

"My lovers are both Eldar."

"What?" Orion was taken aback. "I can't even imagine how that works, nor am I about to ask. But you are out of luck because I doubt I can give you any meaningful advice."

"Nonsense." Kazar dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "Experience alone can provide a wealth of knowledge. Besides, much of what you know probably applies well enough."

"Are you really willing to take that risk—assuming what I know is approximate at best?"

Kazar remained undaunted. "The issue isn't about causing a faux pas—I've done that plenty—but more about how I can, well, take things to 'another level,' to use a turn of phrase."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around how you ended up in a relationship with not one, but two Eldar." Given his reluctance regarding the alliance, Orion found this hard to reconcile.

"That's a long story," Kazar replied with a slight grin. "But if you must know, the Eldar aren't that alien once you understand them beyond a surface-level glance at their nature and society. Their women can be just as perplexing as our own."

Orion couldn't help but laugh at that. "Ah, do they also get upset when you don't do things exactly as they expect, even though they never actually tell you what they want?"

"Oh, it's the worst," Kazar agreed, looking sympathetic. "My Gen gives me an earful if I skip combat drills or leave my tomes scattered around our apartment in the Black Library because it's 'unattractive.'"

"Ha!" Orion chuckled. "Estrith, my wife, hates it when I critique every entertainment vid she brings home because I 'nitpick' every detail. And Makima can't stand it when I cook anything with meat because she claims the smell lingers for days. I'll admit, I do feel guilty about that."

"There's nothing worse than feeling like a fool in front of your woman," Kazar nodded. "Ricco once gave me an earful when I misinterpreted a few characters in a play she's been writing for decades. I think it was mostly because she felt I wasn't enjoying it."

Orion could recall a few moments when he had unintentionally made Estrith feel like he wasn't listening or didn't care. "It's a strange feeling," he admitted. "I've had to learn to be more careful with my words. I never realized how much impact they could have when I spoke without thinking."

"It's difficult, isn't it?" Kazar replied with a knowing look. "Especially as an Astartes. Gen and Ricco have also sacrificed so much for their people. Like us, Aspect Warriors and Harlequins give up a significant part of their lives because of their duty."

"I wouldn't know," Orion responded, unwilling to compare the sacrifices of becoming an Astartes to the practices of the Aeldari in service to their people or gods. "In some ways, Estrith and Makima haven't entirely given up their loyalty to their causes either. Neither have I. But I felt other duties needed a sense of legitimacy attached to them."

Kazar seemed to grasp what Orion meant, but his expression carried a hint of envy. "I can't marry either of them. The Harlequins forbid it, and Gen believes that if she were to leave the path she was on, she wouldn't be the same woman I cared for. 'Better to stay on this path until the bittersweet end.' So, yes... I'm jealous that you can call someone you love your wife."

Strangely, Orion snorted. "It's just a piece of paper that Estrith and I signed. We were husband and wife long before it was official. Marriage is just an institution used to formalize things. If you love either woman enough, and the feeling is mutual, nothing's stopping you from calling one of them your spouse. Besides, the other woman in my life calls herself my mistress by her choice."

Kazar nodded slowly, pondering the thought. "I suppose if you truly love someone, why should a document be the final say? But the idea of never being able to officially recognize someone I love... it feels insulting."

"Then do something about it," Orion replied almost offhandedly. "You're living in extraordinary circumstances. I've been through one or two myself. The galaxy doesn't make sense anymore. Today, you learned of an Astartes who married, and I learned of one who loves two xenos." The Knight-Warden gazed out at the alien horizon once more. "I wonder what we'll discover tomorrow."

Orion realized his previous comment might have sounded dismissive or rude. He turned to apologize but noticed that Kazar seemed deep in thought as if he were weighing something in his mind. "Did something I said intrigue you?" he asked.

"Yes," Kazar admitted, nodding slowly. "I think I will look into 'doing something,' as you said. You're right—these are extraordinary times. Perhaps it's best to recognize the opportunities that come our way, even if they seem unconventional."

Orion shrugged. "Well, just make sure whatever you do doesn't get you killed or corrupted." He didn't relish the thought of sending another Astartes to his death, even for the sake of love. "Unfortunately, there'll be plenty of chances soon enough."

Kazar's expression turned grim as he raised his bionic arm. "We're fighting the Ulwarth. I lost this arm to one of them." Orion's face hardened as he realized that if a single Chaos Eldar was strong enough to wound a Praetor of the 15th, they were indeed formidable foes.

"Mind sharing some details about them?" Orion asked, seeing an opportunity to steer the conversation toward a more practical topic. "I have a feeling this campaign won't be easy."

"No, it won't be," Kazar replied, his tone serious. "But yes, I'll tell you what I can. Once we finish that, I might trouble you with a few more relationship questions." The Praetor added with a faint smile, leaving the Knight-Warden to wonder what sort of friendship he had stumbled into.

---

@Daemon Hunter Something that should have been done days ago but I wanted to finish now. If nothing else, this makes for a nice point of contact for Orion with a high ranking member of the Thousand Sons.

Hiya! Decided to make another Rune omake, this time focusing on the newly discovered and heavily questioned Grandmaster Rune of Will due to just how busted and perfect this thing will be once it's made (as it can easily be right now thanks to how strong Kesar's willpower is, represented in his corruption resistance, and that of his greatest sons). The corruption resistance this can give to everything is legit a miracle.
-----
The Rune of Will.

You are Kesar Dorlin, Primarch of the Eternal Wardens, and you have just done what decades ago would have been nearly unthinkable.

The announcement crackles across vox-transmitters, across the Astropaths that carry it through the Imperium, whispered and shouted and debated and discusses across countless souls. The Eleventh Primarch, almost all of his sons, his domain and more have seceded from the Emperor of Mankind's rule.

It is done. There is no going back. For better or for worse, you have laid your intentions bare for all to judge.

It would be a lie to say that this didn't weigh heavily on you. How could it not? When the very fate of everyone under you was so filled with uncertainty?

One did not lightly defy the Master of Mankind. While you doubted it would happen soon, and hoped it would never occur at all, it was all too easy to imagine fleets appearing to burn down your worlds and slaughter your sons. Custodes marching the empties halls of the Vigilance as your creator wrought doom for you and all that opposed him.

Your father had proven that he was more than willing to burn those around him to get what he wanted. Appointing Lord Commander Eli and allowing him to enact plans that would cause death and destruction upon most of humanity. Charging against those that rebelled, and turning his sights to Vulkan and Konrad Curze. Whatever had been done to wipe away the Second's very existence.

Then there was his grand plan, the purpose behind everything, shared by the Eldar and confirmed by Skullface.

It was an explanation that made sense where almost nothing else did. It was an answer that fit every question, every inconsistency, every feverish nightmare that could be dreamt up. Lorgar Aurelian and his sons had fallen into Chaos, you and several others were outright defying him and his rule, the Imperium was burning itself from its faulty foundations.

Primarchs couldn't be trusted as dissent or corruption was proven. Not even Horus Lupercal, first found and so dearly loved, was by his side. Even Terra faced a coup that had caused hundreds of Custodians to fall, threatened the Sisters of Silence, and succeeded in barring his plans.

The empire he tried to create wasn't even meant to last. All its problems would be ignored or discarded or cold turned into use or obliterated. The only thing that mattered was its ability to complete his grand work.

To eradicate freedom from mankind down to the heart and soul of every single person.

Of course, it wasn't wholly your decision to rebel.

Karcer Urial, who lead the Imperial Army in the Maelstrom, had given you an ultimatum. It was not by her will alone that rebellion could happen, with or without you, but a reflection of all those soldiers that fought in the rift. Even beyond this once titanic wound upon reality, as orders were refused and dissent boiled over from the political strife and corruption, the Gamma factions were rising.

The Imperium of Mankind was breaking. That was an undeniable fact. So you put it to a vote with your sons, with Karcer to make her case, to determine if and when you should leave. The vote was done and…

It was done. However it made you worry, wondering when the day would come you would face a war you never wished to be waged, it was done.

It would be worth it. Even with how you feared reprisal and apocalypse, the very empire you once gave so much for, it was worth it because the alternative was pure madness. Something that couldn't be allowed to pass.

You meditate on the future, on the present, on what you needed to do and the strength to face it.

You dream about the Emperor of Mankind.

Something else dreams with you.

-----

There is a feeling that erupts inside your hearts, your mind, your echoing soul. A dream was a dream, no matter how real it was there was a difference between illusions and truth.

At times the difference didn't matter. To reach into the Warp, to face the influence of Chaos, to meet a divine power… they were things that could push through the barriers and distort the veil to the point that what was fantasy and actuality were one and the same. Or to open a tunnel between both sides.

Daemons cutting apart a doll and have a victim covered in wounds, poison them with mad nightmares until they woke up as a devout puppet, rip away their soul as they possess an unthinking corpse. A psyker would know this all too well for what predations they suffered. From sympathetic curses to direct merging, to divine chains to countless other possibilities.

In some ways you had also achieved such things. From psychically resonant architecture, which you had begun to delve into, to the greatest psychic work you were undertaking. Runes were designs that channelled a concept from the Warp and manifested it into the surrounding space, not just reality. The varied glyphs were a vital tool in the hands of you and your sons, to all those that wielded them. With careful research and even more careful focus could these designs be made.

This language, this mathematical framework, this tapestry of conceptual artwork. Your thoughts drifted to it constantly. New designs, new variations, new possibilities. The limitless half-realm of starlight, shining so beautifully.

Your mind drifts to a familiar space, the deep and radiant depths of understanding, where pure enlightenment can come and inspire you.

But something pulls you away.

Deeper.

WITNESS.

The word struck you with the force of a hammer. Breath left your lungs, blood surged in your veins, your muscles tensed as you felt a presence cling to you in a way you had never felt before. Not clawing into your soul or try to kill you as Chaos did, or a neutral force that was separate and uncaring until you reached for it.

The meaning of what you heard sang in your mind. Invited by your thoughts, your fears, what you were fighting for. It pulls you into a distant place. Overflowing with an absolute feeling of…

Desperation.

You open your eyes.

There was a figure made of radiant light, flame shaped and casted into physical form, a heart beating like a war-drum inside, colossal in scale and awe-inspiring in power. They towered above you as a being, as an idea, that could not be contained by any true individual entity. They were a form of power granted fleeting personification.

They were a prisoner.

Burning chains wrapped around their arms, legs and neck. They were wrought from an unbreakable power, an eternal rule, that could cleave the heavens and lay dominion over the mortal realm. Each link was greater in size to a planet, to a star, and they stretched across into the infinite cage they were built from.

Appearing as volcanic rock, as primordial stone, shackles were clasped around the essence of this dying giant. Choking it of life even as it tried to struggle, moving with such cosmic scale and almighty strength in absolute defiance to its fate. The light grew and faded in tides that were slowly receding, time flying across aeons of a terrible era, as you saw the figure within grow more defined as they transformed from primal force into a withering concept.

It was almost a corpse. A skeleton chained and syphoned from until it truly died, until it was broken and unable to resist, until everything about it was able to become controlled by the master of this divine cell.

The figure weaves words as a drowning man tried to take in air. The shape of its language was crude, burning and too strong to understand. Yet it shaped meaning and cut its own essence to form its message. The prisoner could do anything that it directed its intent towards, anything that could make itself heard, for that was its nature.

KNOW. WHAT. IS. AT. STAKE.

You open your eyes and see-

Gold. In the air, in the water, in the earth, in the heart. Strands of gold that are woven so finely that it would make an artist weep for how perfect each bit of twine was. It could reach down into the smallest substrate and grow into tapestries that wrapped around the stars. In the hearts of those that lived, the only ones permitted to live.

and see-

Chains choking a vast being. No, not a creature or a daemon. A concept. An idea. A vast titan in the oldest sense of the word, a figure granted shape to explain an idea that was so primordial that it couldn't remain nameless or formless. Something dying.

and see-

The end of mankind.

A voice speaks. Each word forced into focus. This could not be allowed.

-a machine, not the ones the children of the omnissiah saw, but the machine of one who desires nothing but tools and instruments. an engine was made by crushing the stars and the countless souls, every past wonder and symbol, and turning it to burning dust to create an engine that would crush the stars and countless souls to create an engine to create an engine to create the web.

a wheel of stars that were so much dimmer than before, filled with darkness, shining a golden light across its entirety. there was no world left free, no life upon it that was not something once called man, no means to struggle or break free. it was the perfect cage. perfect because it could not be broken. even death did not break it.

the power of chaos would leave vain hope for salvation, as they fight and kill and slaughter and defile themselves for such was their nature. they could not build this perfect cage for they are four and eight and countless. only one can do this, only one would do this, and leave pristine nothingness for life.

IT. CANNOT. BE.

Above the prisoner, as their infinite gaze rises beyond its cage, is the master. The cunning spider, the violent wolf, the almighty lion. Countless symbols and interpretations for a single concept, a man, that towered over gods and the Warp and the galaxy as the supreme ruler that would have all bend their knees or lose their heads.

The King. The Tyrant. The Emperor.

The Master of Mankind.

He was beyond power, to even use the word was an insult to the glory and terror that you witnessed. A distant shadow of potential that matched and surpassed the Chaos Gods that you warred with, for unlike them… he had done it. Victory over the greatest challenge. The conqueror who had taken everything.

He had butchered the galaxy and lobotomised the fate of humanity, slaughtered and destroyed all in his way, and all that was left was his will above all. Above the very concept of will, which laid chained and starved and beaten before you.

Yet by its very nature, it could not truly be broken till the very end.

END. THIS. MADNESS.

The world crumbles around you into dust, the shattered particles of possibility, as you find yourself rushing away from this distant future.

There is the clear sound of a sword singing against another blade, the familiar noise drawing your attention as you turned to see a new vision. A battlefield ripped from outside context, full of flame and twisted metal, a golden figure wielding a burning spear against their opponent. Maticus Ventamedes, Third Captain of the Eternal Wardens, matched each swing.

It is not him, you recognise that immediately. Veins of burning light covered his armour and weapon, the same you had seen in the great prisoner before. It was an avatar of pure will, unbending in strife as in chains. Or perhaps it was another echo of something that could have been.

More golden warriors came, shadows of what could only be the praetorians of the Emperor's will. Five armoured shades thrust their spears to the apparition of your son. Ten more came behind, followed by another ring of warriors that cleaved and skewered the battlefield by their mere presence. Even as he began to be struck, the avatar continued to fight. When thrown to the ground he would rise.

Your vision blurs as the battlefield expands, unfolding into cut apart vistas that displayed burning worlds and battles in the void. Champions leading the charge to fight against the tide of fate, the absolute dominion that tried to ensnare life itself. Towering warriors in metal, as walking mountains that scorched armies and toppled cities, falling down to forces dominated by the tyrant. Ships sailing across the stars to stem the golden tide.

Your sons shining across worlds. Doom Slayer charging against armies of those dedicated to the Emperor's will, decimating countless before the very ground he fought on was covered in corpses. Oriacarius Gielux thwarting the blades of assassins, the genius designs of his endless enemies and the mind of the tyrant he challenged. Solarus laughing as entire systems were shattered, supernovas conjured to shape the galaxy's fate. Orion preparing new generations of warriors, leaders and legends to ensure a future would remain. Crescum Auro was almost screaming in psychic rage as he pierced the psychic web itself, dedicating his very soul to unravel its threads. Durante and Vergil remaining in the conceptual realms, searching for secret paths to achieve victory.

The galaxy was burning. The terrible sights of utter destruction, of ruin, of the last stands of your brilliant children and those around them made you weep for what could have come. A dream, an echo, a wish for the future that it could be fought at all, it didn't matter. If this was illusion or reality, you could not let this come to pass.

This could not be allowed to pass. This terror, this madness, this loss. You refused to accept this as the fate of all that you knew. No matter what, it would not end this way.

Only by a great enough will could endure this war, this galaxy, and manage to reach towards victory. Not just the will of a leader, their burning soul shining as either an example or suzerain of all, but all those under them.

You refused this vision.

HOLD. THIS. FLAME.

You open your eyes again and see the prisoner. The chains were fading away, the golden light dim and distant, the very shape of this colossus was fading away. It was too powerful and vast to remain in any single avatar normally, only when constricted and reduced could such a thing be possible. Yet in this vision… there was something there.

A silhouette of a hand large enough to hold one of the galaxy's spiral arms descended and it held a flames- no, a collection of fires that made up a greater whole. Burning more radiant than any single star. In it you saw battlefields old, present and in your future. Your sons, your brothers and, closest of all, yourself.

Unbreakable, unyielding, undaunted by this terrible possibility. This was the essence of true willpower. What burned in your own soul.

And in this flame of flames was the beginning of a new design, one to reflect and resonate with the greatest aspect that all life could share, the Rune of Will.

wrote an omake on the potential option to create a rune of Primal Will with the assistance of one of the twins in a future turn.

'The mandate of the Eternal Wardens has been, at least prior to this crisis, the pacification and purification of the maelstrom to secure it for the good of all humanity.' Kesar began to write his address to the Wardens, electing to declare it within an internal memo rather than a public declaration. The Captains would be the ones to see his message and they would discuss it with their individual Astartes. It did lead to the possibility of entire companies defecting thanks to the charisma of a single individual, but Kesar believed in his sons more than that. His Captains would stay true to their morals, he felt it in his heart.

'Most do not know of our primary objective: eliminating daemonic threats across the Imperium. This has remained hidden, much to the ire of those in the legion who support it, and has, in some ways, hindered our efforts. No more.' Kesar felt this on a personal level. It was always difficult to explain to guardsmen why their brothers in arms had been declared traitors without warning. Not to mention the difficulties created by preventing the Imperial Army from adequately incorporating procedures when facing daemons. Everything they had was almost always created from scratch.

'It is time to bring our mission into the light. The recent revelations brought about by the Masquerade's End confirm the Imperial Truth is, in many ways, a lie. It won't take long for Chaos to capitalize on this.' The public reveal that the Imperial Truth was a lie had been the most devastating for internal unity within the Imperium. It had ignited all sorts of speculation on what that meant, with thousands of cults and religions being revitalized. A proportion of these groups were violent and had to be put down rapidly, which did have the useful benefit of distracting the Sigillites within his domain. Additionally, it forced Kesar to alter his preconceptions as to the nature of the infiltration by the Archdaemons that was possible when it came to organized religions. It seems he had overestimated their ability, or perhaps it was Khorne being distracted that was preventing mass corruption. Kesar made a mental note to discuss that possibility with Oriacarius. They would have to be prepared in case that was true.

'We should, then, declare our full mission to explain the prompt and pretense for this secession: We are here to kill evil, and we will do so, regardless of politics.' It was a blunt statement, fitting for the situation at hand. Perhaps he could dress it up, and slowly build towards the conclusion. But to Kesar, it was better to be direct, to allow the reader to create their conclusions.

'This will undoubtedly anger the Emperor, but this reasoning will not warrant immediate censorship or reprisal. Instead, we will be able to ingratiate ourselves with the Gamma Factions and Imperial Army.' It was this that Kesar thought would be most critical to his short and long-term goals. Electing to secede based on a relatively niche topic wouldn't cause great stirs within the Imperium and may even win some support from the Gamma Camps provided he treated them properly. But more importantly, it appealed to the Wardens as a whole who had been chafing under the regulations put on them in their fight against daemons within the warp.

---

"Karcer, I have a briefing ready. It should only take 8 hours or so." Oriacarius stated as Lord General Militant Karcer wondered if she had made a mistake when she helped convince the Primarch to secede. The First Captain was just glad he had prepared this in advance, otherwise, it would have taken him weeks to prepare this slide deck for senior Imperial Army officers.

---

The memo went out to the Legion as thousands of Astartes petitioned to know if this decision was real. Clarifications went out, along with a public declaration from Kesar that it was true, which provoked days of discussions among Companies and Squads as the Wardens tried to understand the consequences of this decision.

The vast majority of the Legion treated it as just another logistical snarl to handle in their fight against the Maelstrom. All of them considered it critical for the future, but some were convinced that such a goal may not be worth their time. Rene and Abdul for instance, both powerful Librarians decided that this decision was poorly thought out, and it would be better to remain loyal to the Emperor. Others had more complex thoughts such as Bader who elected to remain with the Imperium so he could help the War Hounds in full. While Dian almost followed in his footsteps, the Apothecary eventually decided to remain with the Legion but act as a supporting force within the Imperium. It did leave him extremely vulnerable if a war broke out, but also acted to ensure smooth relations with the Imperium. The last notable figure to leave was Bodin, the Forge Master. His decision was based on a desire to remain connected with the most advanced technologies within the Imperium, and he understood secession would prevent him from accessing the knowledge on Mars. As such, he had chosen to remain with the Imperium, but also to pursue closer relations with the Mechanicum which Kelbor-Hal certainly appreciated.

There were some minor issues that would have to be taken care of, although multiple officers were already on it. Of the 5000 Astartes that left the Legion, a disproportionate number were focused on counter-insurgency operations. Their loss would require a few other companies to be trained in the field, although it was helped by the fact that these COIN Companies had been primarily operating against non-corrupted human soldiers which meant that the experienced personnel had remained. Additionally, a few companies supplemented by haywire weaponry had also left for similar reasons to Bodin. Like the Forge Master, they too had been approached by Kelbor-Hal who had convinced them to work with him on Mars in the search for knowledge, which may cause some tensions between him and the Sigillite.

The most problematic incident that occurred was among the exchange Astartes attached to the Eternal Wardens. Despite administrative barriers separating some formations, the Dark Angels and Death Guard had a violent encounter at a training range. While it was difficult to parse what had occurred, it is believed that a Dark Angel and Death Guard decided to spar which escalated after the former failed to notice the latter yielding the fight. This was followed by a series of escalations among those involved, with the Luna Wolves arriving to assist the Death Guard. While Warden assets were underway, the fight was broken up by the arrival of Iron Warrior and Iron Hand formations, who successfully interjected themselves between the brawling units preventing any further escalations. However, a total of 22 individuals have perished, two Dark Angels and twenty serfs. While the exact culprits have yet to be found, it has created a stain upon the exchange program.

---

Feelers have been sent out to worlds within Svarga. With the secession effectively an open secret, a variety of planets have been contacted and informed about upcoming events. Notably, this was done after Oriacarius informed Baldur of the secession and the two had a long talk which had all records related to it erased in full. The only one informed was Kesar, with Oriacarius explaining that Baldur claimed his loyalties were split but based on recent events he'd remain with the Wardens. The First Captain said that he would be putting contingencies in place but regretfully stated that he had no actionable evidence of disloyalty from the Captain.

As a result, Kesar requested Baldur's assistance with feelers, with key worlds being contacted in short order. The first to be contacted were Zhen IV, Undel, Mezoa, Mannheim, and Valhalla due to their importance within Svarga. As expected, Valhalla was fully in support of Kesar even if there were some dissidents present. Mannheim was also in favor of secession even if their desires were less altruistic. Instead, the forge world thought it would be better for their business to join a faction outside of the Imperium. As he reviewed the reports, Kesar made a mental note to have Baldur see about curtailing covert lasgun shipments to Gamma Camps. Undel was also loyal to Kesar more so than the Emperor, primarily due to complaints about liaisons from the greater Imperium constantly demanding that they shorten their training process.

That was where the good news ended, however. While the current Fabricator-General of Mezoa did host a banquet for the Wardens, she declined to remain with Svarga explaining that there were supply lines that would be jeopardized during a secession. She was, however, kind enough to formally transfer the Warden's Knight House to a nearby forge world. And lastly, there was Zhen IV, who continuously waffled between choices and was trying to remain neutral by just refusing to answer if they would join Svarga or the Imperium.

---

Just as Kesar was about to sit back and focus on designing his runes, he was interrupted by an Astartes barging into his office. Surprised at the intrusion, the feeling was only heightened when he noticed who it was. "Auro?" He tilted his head in curiosity just as the Librarian thrust a series of dataslates into his hands.

"Read," Auro stated in his usual brusque manner. "More efficient."

After checking to ensure there were no memetic hazards coded into the dataslate or poisons present according to protocols written by the First Captain, Kesar complied, going through the vast amounts of data as quickly as his mind could manage. As the minutes ticked by, the Primarch grew more and more surprised by the variety of topics covered. Realizing that his mental image of Auro was far from correct, the Primarch paused as he mentally digested the information he had learned.

Of the number of topics covered, the primary one was on the need to replace astropaths. Explaining in highly technical detail how this can be accomplished, Auro provided a multitude of options for what a replacement ritual could be tied to. While its nature would inherently limit it to high-skill psykers who had other demands on their time, it could certainly assist in coordinating Svarga even if Astropaths were entirely lost to Kesar. Authorizing a drop of his own blood for initial experiments, Kesar did nonetheless encourage caution in regard to its use. The last thing he wanted was for it to fall into the wrong hands.

Following that, a large amount of data covered humanity and how they should be treated. Citing a variety of statistics that could be derived from Imperial data, Auro conclusively showed that living in the Maelstrom was objectively worse than living in an underhive for those present. Furthermore, his data indicated that combining guardsmen and Astartes into squads had a tangible effect on morale that was cascading into society itself. And lastly was a rather blunt statement that if the Eternal Wardens were to prove worse for the average human than the Imperium, Auro would immediately leave the Legion and try to take as many Astartes with him as he could. To that, Kesar could only say one thing. "If that happens, consider it an order to take as much away from this Legion as possible."

The last bit almost felt like an afterthought, mainly Auro wanted a study on mutation analysis and gain increased access to data. Approving both programs, albeit with a relatively small budget for the study, Kesar was glad that his son had come to visit him. Even if he should have gone through the normal channels instead.

---

Finally settling in to prepare for his work on runes, Kesar began to review a routine report on the Rune Planet. He was so close, all he had to do was finish indoctrinating the new psykers and everything would be done. He'd spent almost all of his free time in the last few months working on this task, and as he began to read the report Kesar had expected there would be issues involved and more work would have to be done.

And yet, that isn't what happened.

For once, Ogma had cooperated with the latest class of psykers managing to learn the material with delays measured in months rather than years. And as of this last report, its production had been online for three months and it had already outstripped the Legion's production of runes for the year. Smiling broadly, the Rune Lord let out a relieved laugh at his project finally completing.

Of course, now came the fun part, that being ordering where the runes should be provided along with which ones would be produced specifically. And a part of Kesar wondered if he should restrict it to just Svarga. Even if that would earn him many, many enemies.

[] Send Runes to the Full Imperium - *+6 to the Imperial Army*
[] Keep the Runes for Svarga - *+12 to the Imperial Army in Svarga*

And of course, there was Kesar's plan for runes themselves. Based on Ogma's completion, it did mean that basic runes were far more valuable. By his calculations, another 4 variants would allow it to operate at full efficiency for supporting the Imperial Army. Currently, they were actually saturating requests for the basic runes he had designed, which was causing a stockpile to be built up.

GM Note: You have 9 actions for runic research. See here for the list of runes + 1 omake reward so 10 actions.

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