He walks into a legion of perfect hair and polished armor, the marines try to explain artistry, perfection and the value of beauty but all the Lion hears is noise. He makes them train in absolute silence in a forest with no mirrors, music nor silk banners. The Emperor’s Children are traumatized, one of them asks if they can at least harmonize while dueling and the Lion stares at him until it becomes uncomfortable. Fulgrim gets them back at the end of the day and finds his legion standing in perfect ranks, emotionally hollow, with excellent sword discipline and no joy left in their eyes.
Fulgrim gets the Iron Warriors
He arrives, sees the grey armor, grey walls and the grey siege plans and almost dies on the spot. For him this isn't a legion but a cry for help. The Iron Warriors dislike him but Fulgrim doesn’t care, he redesignes their banners, orders the walls to be painted and tells three captains that their siege trench placement is technically competent but spiritually hideous. An Iron Warrior asks if that will improve the artillery and Fulgrim replies that it will improve them. Perturabo returns to find his legion fortress decorated with statues and immediately starts calculating whether fratricide counts as a strategic loss.
Perturabo gets the White Scars
He is handed a legion of fast moving hit and run cavalry warriors who refuse to sit still long enough for a proper siege briefing and he hates it. Perturabo tries to explain that every campaign should begin with a detailed logistics model and a fortified staging zone and a White Scar captain asks what if they simply go around the fortress? Another asks what if they go around it very fast? Perturabo invents six new kinds of contempt in the span of one afternoon. Half the legion ignores his orders and wins the battle anyway which makes him even more furious. Jaghatai returns and finds Perturabo sitting alone beside a massive tactical map, muttering that they have no discipline, no structure and yet…
Jaghatai gets the Imperial Fists
Jaghatai meets the Imperial Fists, the Imperial Fists meet Jaghatai and immediately begin constructing a defensive position. He tells them that they are attacking before fortification and the Imperial Fists look physically ill. He gets them on bikes. They don’t enjoy it at first because they are too upright and worried about whether the bikes are properly load bearing until one of them discovers the spiritual experience of hitting a bunker at full speed and surviving.
Leman Russ gets the Ultramarines
Russ arrives and immediately senses danger from paperwork. The Ultramarines have schedules for their schedules, binders and compliance officers, one of them arrives with an agenda and Russ immediately eats it. The legion is forced into a morale hunt which involve drinking, shouting and solving tactical problems by throwing someone through a wall. They are horrified until unfortunately some of them begin enjoying it, one captain even submits a report titled On the Potential Strategic Benefits of Controlled Barbarism. Guilliman returns and finds his legion slightly drunk, covered in mud and somehow ahead of schedule.
Rogal Dorn gets the Night Lords
Dorn takes command of the Night Lords and immediately realizes this may be the emperor’s punishment for something. The marines are whispering murder threats and decorating hallways with things Dorn refuses to identify, he stands beneath a chain of flayed skins, looks at a nearby marine and tells him to remove it, the marine replies it’s load bearing. He begins writing corrective doctrines, when Curze returns he finds the Night Lords standing straighter, their equipment cleaner and their patrol routes tighter, they are worse in the way a knife becomes worse when sharpened properly. Dorn realizes he has accidentally professionalized the nightmare.
Konrad Curze gets the Salamanders
The Salamanders are kind and patient, they call civilians ‘the people’ and ask Curze if he has eaten. They try to include him in an humanitarian evacuation and Curze keeps trying to turn it into psychological warfare. A Salamander gently says that perhaps the children don’t need to see the enemies’ corpses arranged like a warning mural. The Salamanders get him to help rescue civilians but he does it in the most terrifying way possible, a child says thank you and Curze stares at them like they have stabbed him. Vulkan returns and finds him crouched and wrapped in a donated emergency blanket, furious that kindness has happened near him.
Sanguinius gets the World Eaters
Sanguinius arrives and the World Eaters immediately become confused because they want to be angry but the angel is looking at them with profound sorrow. They expect orders to charge but Sanguinius instead asks them to tell him where it hurts. The legion becomes violently uncomfortable, one marine whispers “everywhere” and Sanguinius replies he knows, that’s somehow worse than being yelled at. He does send them into battle but with actual formation discipline, measured fury and medicae support ready behind the line. They hate how effective it is and that he thanks them afterward. Angron returns and finds his legion quieter than usual.
Ferrus Manus gets the Thousand Sons
Ferrus is dropped into a legion of scholarly psychic wizards who want to debate metaphysics before breakfast, that lasts nine minutes. One marine begins explaining the subtle distinction between the immaterial resonance of thought and the structured application of warp touched will and Ferrus asks if it can punch armor. He makes them spend the day proving psychic theories through practical battlefield application. No more hours long philosophical preambles and just … can it break a tank? Can it hold a bridge? Can it kill that thing before it kills us? Magnus returns and finds his sons exhausted, humbled and disturbingly good at direct problem solving.
Angron gets the Blood Angels
The Blood Angels are noble, graceful and constantly standing at the edge of something terrible inside themselves, Angron recognizes that rage instantly and tells them to stop pretending they aren’t angry. For one day their training becomes brutal, honest and terrifying, Angron understands the beast and doesn’t make it pretty, he teaches them to survive the rage by admitting it exists. Sanguinius returns and finds his sons shaken but strangely steadier.
Roboute Guilliman gets the Space Wolves
He arrives with an open mind but it closes within fifteen minutes. Guilliman attempts to implement a clean command structure and the Wolves respond by giving him a nickname, he doesn’t ask what it means but he suspects it’s rude. He makes them file reports, when he reviews it he finds out they contain drawings of wolves eating bureaucrats. Guilliman somehow optimizes their supply lines while being challenged to three duels and one drinking contest. When Russ returns Guilliman tells him that they bit him and Russ explains that it means they like him.
Mortarion gets the Raven Guard
He takes one look at the Raven Guard disappearing into the shadows and calls it cowardice. The Raven Guard take one look at Mortarion walking directly through poison, gunfire, artillery and common sense and call it ‘subtle.’ Neither side approves. Mortarion wants endurance and attrition, the legion wants silence, precision and leaving before anyone knows they were there. He tries to make them hold ground and they keep vanishing, he gives them a direct assault order and they complete it by assassinating the entire command staff and never assaulting anything. Mortarion is furious because technically the objective was achieved. Corax returns to find him standing in an empty battlefield, surrounded by dead enemy officers and no visible marine around.
Magnus gets the Iron Hands
Magnus arrives among the Iron Hands and immediately begins talking about the soul and the legion immediately begins wishing they had less soul. He gives a beautiful speech and the Iron Hands listen in absolute silence, he thinks they are absorbing wisdom until one of them raises a mechanical hand and asks if the soul can be reinforced with adamantium and if weakness can be isolated from the soul and surgically removed. Magnus spends the next hour trying to explain a metaphor and quickly realizes with horror that the Iron Hands don’t reject philosophy, they simply treat it as an engineering problem. He instructs a squad to trust their instincts and they replace three instincts with predictive targeting arrays, he tells another squad to listen to their inner voice and they request permission to install an external speaker. Ferrus returns and finds Magnus is standing in the middle of the strategium surrounded by marines debating whether enlightenment should be bolted directly to the spine.
Horus gets the Dark Angels
He walks into the legion expecting proud knights and ancient traditions but instead he finds seven locked doors, twelve silent officers and a briefing document with half the words redacted. Horus smiles politely and explains that his sons usually just tell him things, the Dark Angels stare at him like he has suggested eating soup with a chainsword. He tries charm, authority, brotherly warmth, tactical genius and just straight up asking nicely but nothing works. Every time he asked about the mission he was told it was simply proceeding. Horus, who is used to being the galaxy’s favorite son, discovers the Dark Angels are completely immune to charisma because they have replaced social skills with sealed archives and emotional masonry. The Lion returns at the end of the day and finds him sitting very still in a command chair, smiling too hard.
Lorgar gets the Luna Wolves
He is handed a legion of confident and practical charismatic warriors who are used to Horus giving inspirational speeches that end with immediate victory. Lorgar gives them a sermon and they wait politely for the tactical part but the sermon continues… they begin to panic quietly. One marine asks when do they attack and Lorgar replies “when you understand why.” At the end of the day half the legion has been emotionally moved, a quarter has started a discussion circle and the remaining quarter is begging for Horus to come back. Horus returns and finds his sons strangely introspective. One marine asks him what is conquest without meaning and Horus slowly realizes he is going to have to undo all of this.
Vulkan gets the Death Guard
Vulkan arrives among the Death Guard and decides immediately that these men need a warm meal, the legion is confused and suspicious. He inspects their equipment and their living conditions and immediately starts fixing things, they don’t know how to react to a primarch who can endure suffering but doesn’t consider it a personality trait. A veteran explains that they are meant to endure hardship and Vulkan replies that yes, endure it but not worship it. This sentence causes psychic damage to Mortarion several systems away. Mortarion returns and finds his legion healthier, better supplied and deeply uncomfortable about having been cared for.
Corvus Corax gets the Alpha Legion
Corax arrives and immediately realizes something is wrong not because they are sneaky, he expected that but because they are being sneaky at him. He has never been in a room with so many men who treat basic communication like a murder mystery dinner. He attempts to run a covert operation and the legion responds by creating six false covert operations around the real covert operation then forgetting to tell Corax which one is real because of ‘operational integrity’. Corax asks if they understand that secrecy is meant to serve the mission and one legionnaire replies that it’s exactly what they wanted him to think.
Alpharius Omegon get the Word Bearers
The Word Bearers are thrilled because they have been given a primarch who understands hidden meaning and layered truth… Actually they have been given two primarchs. The first one arrives in the chapel, the second one is already sitting in the chapel, a marine looks between them, eyes shining with spiritual terror and asks if that’s a test. One replies yes, the other replies no and the entire legion gasps. Within ten minutes there are already three interpretive schools. One believes Alpharius represents the revealed truth and Omegon the hidden truth, one believes Omegon represents the revealed truth and Alpharius the hidden truth and the last believes there was only ever one primarch and the second is a metaphor for obedience. The twins do absolutely nothing to clarify this. One marine attempts to begin a sermon and Alpharius interrupts saying it’s too direct and that a truth spoken plainly is vulnerable to enemy interpretation. By afternoon every sermon has become encrypted and every hymn contains a false verse designed to mislead infiltrators. Lorgar returns, he sees a marine crying with joy because he has just received a command he can’t understand from a primarch who may not have been there and he feels genuine horror and awe because now the legion is worse in a way he respects.
post by post you are converting me to a Guilliman Enjoyer... every single primarch meme post that features literally anything tender or vulnerable or sweet you're over here making me experience Every Emotion about this man i used to think was boring as fuck but you have me over here like 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭 rereading the same little sections about him over and over again
im normal i swear
Thank you!!! 🥺 I like to think that Guilliman knows that in the end everything he does is for the people and this becomes even more true and personal if he has a s/o and family of his own.
I wanted to say that I absolutely adore your writing and your way of putting the primarchs into Situations and, in that vein, might I request your thoughts on how primarchs would react to riding the bus? I desperately need to see the reactions of incredibly powerful war criminals to one (1) toddler with Opinions
Primarchs taking the bus
What a joyous day for the entire transportation system of a legion to fail, so public transport it is then for the primarch.
Lion El’Jonson
He boards the bus like he’s infiltrating an enemy territory and stands in the aisle for several seconds examining the passengers until the driver asks if he is getting on or what. The Lion slowly hands over the fare and chooses the rear corner because it has the best tactical visibility. Nobody sits beside him because the enormous armored knight staring silently out the window has created a social exclusion zone. At one stop an elderly lady gets on and he immediately stands and offers his seat, she pats his arm and calls him a polite young man. The Lion has killed monsters older than civilizations but doesn't know how to answer that. For the rest of the trip the lady tells him about her garden and he listens with absolute seriousness.
Fulgrim
He takes one look at the bus and decides to wait for the next one because surely not all of them will be this bad right… The next one is exactly the same. Fulgrim enters and sits down with the posture of a dethroned prince being transported into exile. He absolutely can't touch the seat, he remains hovering slightly above it through sheer core strength and moral objection. A teenager across the aisle takes a picture and Fulgrim notices, immediately telling him to take another one at a better angle and the teenager obeys.
Perturabo
He already hates the bus before he even gets on because the route is inefficient and the timetable is inaccurate by four minutes. He sits near the front so he can observe the driver and silently judge every operational decision. A toddler sits across from him, they have a juice box and opinions. They stare at Perturabo for a full minute before pointing at him as speaking.
“You’re very big.”
He ignores them and continues staring forward.
“Why are you bald?”
Perturabo turns his head slowly. “I am not bald, I possess no need for vanity.”
“My dad is bald too.”
“I am not like your father.”
“My dad says buses are late because people are stupid.”
“…Your father may possess some understanding of infrastructure.”
Jaghatai
He is fascinated by the bus until he realizes it stops repeatedly by design… he looks deeply troubled. Jaghatai takes a window seat and watches every vehicle pass them, every time another car overtakes, something inside him dies. The bus stops again and he asks the driver if it’s really necessary, the driver says people need to get off. “They should jump” Jaghatai replies. At one point the bus enters an open stretch of road and reaches moderate speed, he smiles until the bus stops immediately and the smile vanishes. He hates the lack of speed but admits that at least one can see more of the city this way.
Russ
He gets on loudly and greets the driver and the passengers. He gets a seat far too small and immediately starts talking to whoever is nearby, five minutes later he knows three people’s names, one person’s divorce history and where to get the best meat pies. At some point Russ opens a bottle, the driver says that drinking isn't allowed there and he looks genuinely surprised. He puts it away(mostly). When the bus brakes suddenly Russ catches two standing passengers without even looking, everyone cheers and he bows from his seat. By the final stop half the bus is going to the pub with him.
Dorn
Dorn treats the bus system with due respect since it’s public infrastructure. He boards efficiently and stands even though seats are available because several elderly passengers may need them later. The bus takes a sharp corner, everyone else leans but Dorn doesn't even move and remains perfectly vertical. A child starts using him as a handrail and he allows it.
Konrad Curze
Nobody sees him get on, he is simply there in the back, extremely still. Someone notices him and immediately moves seats. Curze enjoys the bus more than expected because it’s anonymous, dim and full of strangers avoiding eye contact.
“This is yours”, he whispers to a passenger. They check beneath their seat to find a wallet they didn’t realize they dropped. They look up to thank but Curze has already vanished. Three stops later, someone screams because he is now sitting on the opposite side of the bus. The driver checks the mirror and Curze is standing directly behind him. “Your rear light is broken”, he whispers.
Sanguinius
He could simply fly to his intended destination but that would be unfair to his brothers so bus it is. He tries to keep a low profile and immediately fails because of the wings, people stare and he smiles politely. A child asks if he is an angel, an elderly passenger gives him a sweet, someone asks for a photo then everyone asks. Sanguinius spends the journey smiling, talking gently and making sure nobody is uncomfortable around him. Someone mentions that the wings must be difficult and he replies that it’s only a little inconvenience. When he leaves three passengers are crying and nobody fully understands why.
Ferrus
He dislikes the bus because it rattles so much and he can hear every mechanical flaw. He sits with increasingly visible irritation. The bus makes a grinding noise and Ferrus complains to the driver who calmly tells him that it always does that. At the next stop he gets off and the driver assumes he reached his intended stop but minutes later Ferrus returns with tools. The bus is delayed but when it resumes it runs better than it has in fifteen years. The transit company sends him a job offer.
Angron
He doesn't want to take the bus because it’s too crowded and noisy, he stands near the exit visibly counting stops. Nobody speaks to him and he speaks to nobody, which is ideal. When someone starts an argument with the driver Angron turns his head and the argument ends immediately. A child looks up at him and waves, he looks away. The child waves again and after several seconds Angron lifts one hand, the child smiles. Angron remains standing by the door but slightly less angry.
Roboute Guilliman
Guilliman understands the bus immediately, he purchases the correct ticket and chooses a seat without obstructing others. Everything is going well until the bus is late by six minutes so he starts asking questions: How often does this route experience delays? What mitigation systems are in place? The driver regrets speaking. He begins surveying passengers and identifying major accessibility failures, by the end of the line he had drafted a revised timetable.
Mortarion
He gets on the bus and immediately dislikes the smell of the artificial air freshener. He sits alone, people avoid him because of the enormous cloak and general aura of doom. When someone opens a window and cool air enters he relaxes slightly. A passenger starts coughing and he offers them a wrapped herbal sweet. It tastes terrible but works immediately, 3 more people ask for one. Mortarion pretends to hate this but doesn't.
Magnus the Red
He is delighted because public transport is socially fascinating, he chooses a seat and begins observing everything until he notices that the route map is outdated. This becomes a lecture. The bus reaches the terminal, he missed his stop because he was explaining ancient road systems to a student. That’s when he realizes he could have just teleported.
Horus
He gets on and immediately compliments the driver. He helps someone with luggage, makes a joke when the card reader fails and within minutes the bus feels friendlier. People start talking and someone recognizes him, Horus smiles and explains that he is only trying to get home. He sits beside an exhausted office worker and somehow gets them talking about their career. A teenager asks for advice and Horus gives excellent advice. A group starts listening, now it’s a seminar. The bus misses three stops because everyone, including the driver, was listening.
Lorgar
He finds the bus spiritually meaningful. He sits beside a stranger and they immediately regret eye contact. Lorgar begins discussing public transport as a metaphor for collective destiny, soon four passengers are listening, someone asks a question about purpose and the bus has become a philosophy circle.
“Everybody off. End of the line.” The driver has to remind them once the bus stops.
“Perhaps every ending is merely-” Lorgar begins.
“No. Off.”
Vulkan
He barely fits so he chooses to stand instead of sitting. He immediately helps someone lift a pram, then carries three shopping bags for an elderly passenger and fixes a broken wheel on a trolley during a stop. The bus gets crowded but Vulkan somehow creates more room by being considerate despite physically occupying the space of four adults. By the end of the journey, everyone is sad to see him leave. The driver asks if same time tomorrow and Vulkan trully considers it.
Corvus Corax
He chooses a back seat by the window. He has headphones and blends into the shadows so effectively that passengers keep trying to sit on him. They notice at the last moment and apologize, Corvus says nothing. A group of loud teenagers boards, one sees him and claims that he has a cool coat, Corvus looks over and quietly thanks. They spend the rest of the ride sitting quietly because somehow disappointing him feels unbearable.
Alpharius Omegon
One twin is already on the bus, the other boards three stops later and neither acknowledges the other. A passenger notices.
“Are you two related?” They ask.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
The bus route unexpectedly changes, one twin knows why and the other claims not to. The driver receives a mysterious call and takes a shortcut, they arrive early. Everyone applauds but nobody knows what happened. At the final stop both twins exit through different doors.
1) John French himself wants to keep it vague and tends to focus on the weirdness of the Warp. Ahriman either looks the same as he always has, is a skeletal mummified creature in power armour, has a black hole for a face, has weird tentacles, etc etc. The vibe tends to be either that people see what Ahriman allows them to see or what their own level of psyker power allows them to see.
2) If you mean his appearance in terms of official art: Ahzek Ahriman is bald, has piercing blue eyes, no beard and looks like a very sexy ancient egyptian-inspired man. (The picture is from the "fury of magnus" book edition that has art pieces of important characters and probably the only official art of his face out there.)
Actually, fuck it. You know what? This is my job and I gets to be stupid about it. You are stuck here with me.
Primarch, and their opinion about tax/tax season.
Horus: Tought that like. Tax happened to other people. He was his dad favorite lil guy! You wouldn't tax a lil guy like him, right?? Was eventually hit wih many years of late fees and unpaid taxes, and the fallout that ensued may have helped in the start of the heresy.
Sanguinius: His forms are always, always flawless. Not a mistake in sight. What people don't see is the absolute panicked meltdown that those forms create evey years. By the end he's a disshevelled mess and his room is covered in feathers, tears and blood, but the forms are done.
Vulkan: Give a good, honest try every year. Somehow always end up with a small return, wich makes him very happy. He actually has been making small mistakes about it, but it's within he margin of errors and the Tax Organisation gives it to him anyway.
Perturabo: Libertarian. Refuse to give taxes to the Imperium, insist he has a provincial local systhem that work beter and that HE can manage the expense for his legions through it. Forrix had almost a mental breakdown trying to fill it.
Fulgrim: Super torn. On one hand, he UNDERSTAND why tax are important. On the other hand... What's a little creative accounting? Some light embezzelling? Surely this won't blow up in his face, right?
Ferrus: Did not know that tax were a thing until Fulgrim told him. Asked him if he could do them for his legions, and his boyfriend accepted. He pays him back by spending a few days a year with him. In bed. He LOVE tax season.
Jaghatai: Does his taxes, but grumble every years that they are VERY frustrating for not accepting horses as a valid payment form! He even offered to give extra, if they just let him pay in damn horses! The conversion rate gives him headaches. Somehow always just shy of being late.
Alpharius & Omegon: win at taxes. Somehow get a returns that is bigger than their entire spending and earning combined for a year. They just hacked into the systhem and gave it to themself. They are not ready for the Horrors that will soon follow (a full audit).
Magnus: Insist that divination is a valid way to get to your tax statement. When it was refused, tried numerology. His forms spontanuously combusted when completed. He then makes Ahriman do it.
Mortarion: tried the first year to pay in a percentage of a grain harvest. It was refused, and he threw quite a big tantrum. Make the process as long and as painful as possible for whichever poor soul is sent to talk about his tax with him. Contest everything.
Rogal: Oh he fill them so, so good. Actually enjoy the process, it pleass his brain so fucking much. Fuck yeah, give him more tax papers baby! Sometime, if he's feeling spicy, he will intentionally put in a mistakes to see if the tax agents catch it. One time they even sent him extra forms to fill once it was spotted, and he was shaking in excitment.
Angron: All tax forms of the WE are redirected to Lotara. She send them back with a red scribles "FUCK OFF" and a pile of teeth. It's marked as paid.
Lorgar: Does his tax very well! On time and everything!! But his papers keep having the most unlucky bullshit happen to them. One time they were literally dropped in a lake. Constantly has to redo them, and its stressing him out!!! The chaos god are in full effect to garante that hr never has an easy tax return.
Leman: is "conveniently" unreachable every tax season. Constantly on the move in random corner of the galaxy for it, and laugh nervously when tax are mentioned. Actually does not know what tax are and at this point he's too afraid to ask.
Konrad: Insist that he made proper payment, and that his tax are ABSOLUTELY exact, without a single fault or flaw, because that would be a Crime. The fact that he paid in humans skins and organs, corresponding to their exact monetary value, is disturbing.
Lion: Stare at the paper. Stare at whoever gave him the paper. Make a simple grunting noise, and slides all the paper toward Luther. This was the start of the deterioration of their relationship.
Corvus: Tax are good. Tax are greats. She love and respect an equal tax burden, and will publically respect a good tax burden. In private tho, she bitch and moan about her tax funding things she hates. Daydream about witholding them, but never do so.
... And Roboute: The one that instaured the tax systhem in the first place. Know every single rules, regulation, and how exactly to break them. Unwilling to admit that the entire database is staying on a house of card that are 3 excel sheets. He has one machnicus guy keeping it alive.
Bonus round:
Malcador: Has been doing the tax for Terra, some-fucking-how. He actually just imput bullshit numbers and people assume that he did the calculation correctly, because there is no way that they are doing the 3 millions page audit.
Emp: has not paid his taxes since the time he was a simple copper merchant who DEFFINITLY was selling quality goods and totally didn't burn down his house to hide the evidence. Rob is on the case tho, and the Emperor is starting to get nervous...
Through an accounting error of truly imperial proportions the Administratum has frozen every legion’s budget and each primarch is informed that until the matter is resolved they must somehow raise funds themselves.
The Emperor calls it an opportunity to demonstrate initiative, Malcador calls it extremely funny.
Lion El’Jonson
The Lion refuses to explain his finances to anyone. He announces an exclusive survival experience on Caliban where wealthy nobles may pay an obscene entrance fee for the honour of hunting alongside the Dark Angels. They are given ceremonial weapons, expensive cloaks and absolutely no useful information about what lives in the forest.
The Lion disappears into the trees without warning, half the guests are lost within an hour and the survivors return three days later, traumatised, missing shoes and convinced they have experienced a profound spiritual awakening. They charges extra for extraction and the Dark Angels raise enough money to fund three campaigns, though nobody is entirely certain how many guests came back.
Fulgrim
He immediately understands that the legion possesses the most valuable commodity in the galaxy: himself. He commissions a series of tasteful signed portraits in increasingly elaborate armour. There are standard prints, metallic prints, scented prints, holographic prints and one extremely expensive edition where Fulgrim has personally applied a single brushstroke. Collectors begin fighting over serial numbers.
The Emperor’s Children also release calendars, commemorative coins, perfume, statuettes and a lavish book titled The Art of Fulgrim: Volume One of Twelve. The Legion’s finances recover overnight.
Perturabo
He refuses to participate in what he calls performative financial humiliation and spends four months constructing the most efficient interplanetary shipping route ever devised. It reduces journey times by 40%, avoids warp instability, includes fortified rest stations and can withstand a direct orbital bombardment… then he installs toll gates.
Everybody must pay and nobody can avoid the route because Perturabo has strategically dismantled every inferior alternative. Within six months the Iron Warriors control a significant percentage of regional trade. Guilliman is furious because the toll system violates seventeen logistical agreements. Perturabo sends him an invoice for reviewing the complaint.
Jaghatai Khan
He looks at the legion’s bikes, at the endless Imperial shipping delays and sees an opportunity. The White Scars launch a premium courier service promising same system delivery within hours. The service becomes wildly popular because it is the only Imperial delivery network that doesn’t lose parcels for seventy years.
Customers can pay extra for express pursuit where the courier delivers while being actively chased by local authorities. Jaghatai personally delivers one small birthday package because he happens to be going that way.
Russ
Russ announces that anyone who can outdrink a Space Wolf wins a chest of Fenrisian treasure. Entry fees are enormous, thousands arrive but nobody wins. They raise further money by selling tickets to watch challengers attempt it.
Bjorn points out that the cost of repairing the hall after each evening is almost equal to their profits so Russ responds by moving the event outdoors. A noble demands a refund after discovering that the treasure is mostly carved bones, wolf pelts and a drinking horn the legion insists once belonged to a king. The king in question is Russ himself.
Dorn
Everyone laughs when Dorn proposes a bake sale and stops laughing when they see the operation. The Imperial Fists construct a fortified bakery complex with twelve production lines, regulated ingredient storage, defensive queues and exact portion control. Every cake is structurally flawless, every biscuit has identical dimensions and the gingerbread houses can survive artillery fire. Dorn personally inspects the icing for integrity.
The sale becomes the largest in Imperial history serving billions across multiple worlds. Unfortunately the food is almost aggressively plain. Fulgrim secretly adds decorations to several batches, Dorn notices immediately but allows it because sales increase by 23%.
Konrad Curze
Curze doesn’t understand why everyone is disturbed by his haunted house fundraiser. He has simply created an immersive educational experience demonstrating the consequences of criminal behaviour. Visitors enter expecting fake blood, actors and cheap scares but end up receiving a 4 hours long personalised psychological nightmare based on their secret guilt.
Attendance is enormous because people keep daring each other to go inside. The legion also sells souvenir photographs taken at the precise moment each guest realises the screams aren’t coming from hidden speakers. The Night Lords make a fortune. The fundraiser is shut down after several planetary governors confess to crimes nobody previously knew they had committed.
Sanguinius
Sanguinius merely announces that he will attend a fundraising gala and every noble within five sectors immediately purchases a ticket. He performs one dance, gives a heartfelt speech about unity and auctions a feather that fell naturally from his wing. The bidding causes a minor diplomatic incident.
Several people donate entire moons. The Blood Angels also sell paintings, jewellery, illuminated manuscripts and small handcrafted angel ornaments made by legionaries who are deeply embarrassed to be enjoying themselves.
Ferrus Manus
Ferrus considers merchandise beneath him until he discovers what civilian mechanics charge. The Iron Hands open repair stations offering vehicle maintenance, industrial reconstruction, weapon refurbishment and emergency augmentation repair. The work is excellent despite the customer service being terrifying.
A man brings in a broken agricultural engine and receives it back capable of towing a Titan. Ferrus begins selling durable tools under the brand name Manus Industrial, they become famous for never breaking.
Angron
He rejects every fundraising idea until someone suggests that people might pay the World Eaters to destroy things, suddenly he becomes interested. The Legion offers rapid demolition services for obsolete fortresses, condemned hive districts, enemy monuments and structures described vaguely as in the way. Business is excellent.
Customers are required to evacuate the area and sign a document acknowledging that precision is a flexible concept. Angron especially enjoys demolishing statues of tyrants. When a mining colony can’t afford the payment he personally destroys their overseer’s palace for free.
Roboute Guilliman
Guilliman creates a twelve stage financial recovery programme involving taxation reform, supply chain optimisation, public bonds, trade incentives, infrastructure investment and transparent accounting. It works perfectly but nobody finds it entertaining.
He publishes a practical guide titled Legionary Fiscal Stability in Times of Administrative Disruption. It sells three copies, one is sold to Dorn, Malcador and the last to Perturabo who writes furious notes in every margin. Guilliman eventually raises most of the funds by licensing Ultramar’s logistics systems to other Imperial institutions.
Mortarion
He initially declares that the Death Guard will survive without funds since they can reuse equipment, endure hardship and march without supplies. His Legion respectfully explains that ammunition still costs money so Mortarion reluctantly begins offering pest eradication services.
Toxic vermin? Fungal infestation? Mutant insects? Contaminated sewers? The Death Guard eliminates everything, often including the building. Customers are impressed by the permanent results. Mortarion refuses to advertise but word spreads after an entire agriworld is cleared of parasites in one afternoon. They also sell hardy medicinal herbs from Barbarus.
Magnus the Red
He charges tuition for lectures on history, philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, linguistics, psychic theory and subjects he invents halfway through explaining them. The courses are genuinely extraordinary, the reading list is six thousand books long and students receive additional assignments through dreams. Ahriman runs the administrative office and hasn't slept in months.
Magnus also offers personalized fortune readings to wealthy patrons but becomes annoyed when they ask shallow questions about romance and inheritance.
Horus
He convinces everyone else that funding the Luna Wolves is their own brilliant idea. Merchant dynasties offer sponsorships, planetary rulers donate resources, military manufacturers provide equipment in exchange for endorsements.
He hosts exclusive dinners where wealthy guests pay for the privilege of hearing him remember their names. By the end of the month the legion has more funds than before the budget freeze. Guilliman suspects corruption but can’t prove anything. Horus invites him to discuss it over dinner and he nearly agrees.
Lorgar
Lorgar declares that giving isn’t payment but an expression of spiritual devotion and pilgrims begin donating voluntarily. The Word Bearers produce commemorative candles, devotional scrolls, medallions, blessed bookmarks, miniature icons, premium seating at sermons and limited edition relic containers.
Erebus proposes a subscription tier and Lorgar initially objects until he sees the projected revenue. The most expensive package includes a personalised theological letter from Lorgar and priority access to new revelations.
Vulkan
The legion organises a huge public festival with food, games, crafts, smithing demonstrations, music and activities for children. Vulkan forges prizes himself and the Salamanders run cooking stalls, repair household tools for free and teach civilians basic safety skills.
The fundraiser is supposed to last one day but it continues for a week because nobody wants to leave. Vulkan spends so much money ensuring everyone is fed that the Legion initially makes almost no profit until people begin donating out of sheer affection.
Corvus
Corvus refuses public appearances but quietly publishes a small collection of poetry under a pseudonym and it becomes an enormous success. Readers describe it as haunting and profoundly moving. Corax denies writing it and the Raven Guard deny knowing who wrote it.
Every poem contains increasingly obvious references to ravens, liberation and a very specific tower on Deliverance. Collectors pay huge sums for signed copies and Corax signs them only with a tiny black feather symbol. He also runs an anonymous crowdfunding campaign for community liberation initiatives, the campaign exceeds its goal by 800%.
Alpharius and Omegon
The Alpha Legion launches a charity lottery, a private security company, a rival private security company, a campaign exposing corruption in the first company, a fund dedicated to investigating the campaign, a merchandise shop selling I Am Alpharius shirts, a second merchandise shop claiming the first is fraudulent and a reward for information about who owns either shop.
The Legion’s budget is restored but Imperial auditors can’t determine whether the Alpha Legion raised funds, stole them, invested them or somehow convinced the Administratum that the budget was never frozen.
ok so this is kinda dumb and a lil silly but like. what do you think the primarchs would think seeing their beloved be a terrible/ugly sleeper? like they walk in to check on their beloved and their s/o is just sound asleep in bed, messy tangled hair, snoring, in an awkward position, and taking up half the bed (which is a feat in and of itself considering its primarch sized lol) would the primarchs find it endearing? embarrassing? funny?
Primarchs discovering that they beloved is an ugly sleeper
Lion El’Jonson
He entered the room silently only to check whether his beloved is resting properly but instead he finds them sprawled diagonally across the enormous bed, hair covering half their face, mouth slightly open, one arm hanging over the edge. The s/o snore and the Lion stops and looks toward the door checking whether anyone else witnessed this catastrophic breach of dignity. The s/o rolls over and somehow expands farther occupying the bed even more which should be physically impossible. The Lion studies the situation like an unfamiliar battlefield. Eventually he carefully moves one strand of hair away from their mouth so they don’t eat it in their sleep. He finds it endearing but will never admit it, if anyone else sees his beloved sleeping like this they are sworn to silence.
Fulgrim
Fulgrim is horrified by seeing his beloved sleeping face down, hair tangled into a nest, one cheek crushed against the pillow, snoring softly with absolutely no regard for symmetry.
“My love.” He approaches. “My beautiful, exquisite-” The beloved snorts in their sleep and turns over with the grace of a collapsing building. Fulgrim covers his mouth trying not to laugh. The situation is deeply undignified and also unbearably adorable. He takes a picture for private appreciation later and gently arranges the blankets, trying to move their hair into something less catastrophic but gives up when they immediately rub their face against the pillow and ruin it again.
Perturabo
He initially assumes something is wrong because the sleeping position is structurally impossible. One leg is twisted sideways, one arm is beneath the pillow, their neck is positioned at an angle that should result in immediate mechanical failure and somehow they have occupied nearly the entire bed. “How.” Perturabo walks around it slowly analyzing. His beloved snores and Perturabo frowns. He attempts to move them into a healthier position but they immediately roll back. He tries again, they expand sideways and steal his pillow. Perturabo becomes increasingly offended by the inefficiency of sleep until his beloved mumbles his name in their sleep and reaches blindly toward him. All frustration disappears. The next morning there is a new custom pillow support system beside the bed. No explanation is provided.
Jaghatai Khan
He takes one look and laughs delightedly. His beloved is lying sideways across the bed, hair everywhere, blankets kicked off, one foot somehow resting on the headboard.
“How did you get there?” They snore in response and he finds the whole thing hilarious, especially the fact that such a small person has conquered a bed built for a Primarch. He tries to climb in but there is no room, his beloved somehow claimed all available territory. Jaghatai gently shifts them and they immediately roll toward him and throw one arm over his chest… now he is trapped. He grins, great outcome. In the morning, he tells them everything and even imitates the snoring.
Russ
He thinks it’s the cutest thing he has ever seen. His beloved is tangled in blankets, hair wild, snoring openly, occupying most of the bed like a victorious warlord. “Look at you.” Russ stands there grinning. “Conquered the whole territory, have you?” The beloved makes a strange noise and hugs a pillow tighter, Russ laughs so loudly they almost wake up. He doesn’t care about snoring or messy hair for his are even worse. He climbs into the bed and simply picks his beloved up, places them on top of him and goes to sleep. Problem solved.
Dorn
He observes the situation in silence. His beloved is asleep diagonally with hair tangled and mouth open, their breathing occasionally produces a soft whistle and they are occupying an unreasonable percentage of the mattress. Dorn calculates available sleeping space. He attempts to move one pillow and the beloved immediately claims the newly opened area. He tries adjusting the blanket and they steal it. Finally he lies on the edge of the bed with perfect posture while his beloved sleeps like a natural disaster beside him. He finds it endearing but simply doesn’t display this in obvious ways. On the next day the bed is swapped for one wider.
Konrad Curze
Curze enters expecting vulnerability and perhaps something delicate but instead he finds his beloved sleeping like they were thrown down a staircase. He stares and smiles slowly, a strange soft expression nobody is supposed to see. He finds it bizarrely precious and insults them with great tenderness. “You are hideous.” His beloved snores louder. “Repulsive.” He gently moves the hair away from their nose. He becomes violently protective of their sleeping privacy, only he is allowed to witness the creature beneath the blankets.
Sanguinius
His beloved is sleeping sprawled across the bed with tangled hair, one knee raised, face squashed into a pillow and making tiny snoring noises. Sanguinius lets out a genuine helpless smile because there is something deeply comforting about them feeling safe enough to sleep terribly around him. He gently sits beside them, the beloved shifts and takes up even more space. Sanguinius laughs softly and carefully wraps the wings around them.
Ferrus
He assumes they are injured because no one sleeps in that position voluntarily. Their arm is bent beneath them, the hair is tangled across their face and one leg is completely outside the blankets. Ferrus walks over and examines closely, they snore and he relaxes slightly. He notices they have taken over most of the bed. He nudges them. Nothing. He tries moving their leg and they immediately kick the blanket farther away. The next morning he bluntly informs how remarkably inefficient they are while unconscious.
Angron
He enters quietly and his beloved is completely unconscious with hair tangled, blankets twisted, one arm stretched over his pillow and snoring softly. They are defenseless, peaceful and safe. Angron stands there for a long moment. The beloved makes a ridiculous sound in their sleep and Angron almost laughs. He walks closer and simply sits beside them, they shift toward his warmth immediately without hesitation. He doesn’t understand why but that makes him emotional. He carefully moves one blanket over their shoulder.
Roboute Guilliman
He comes in intending to check whether his beloved is sleeping properly. Technically they are but their hair is everywhere and they have taken up an astonishing amount of space. Guilliman studies the situation and the remaining six inches of mattress. He tries gently rotating them into a safer position and they immediately return to the original one. He adjusts the pillow and they throw it onto the floor. He quickly realizes that sleep can’t be administrated while the beloved sleeps on. He tries to lie down beside them but there is still no room so he ends up sleeping at an awkward angle. “We may benefit from a larger bed.” He says the next morning.
Mortarion
He sees the beloved sleeping badly and immediately approves of the sheer honesty of it, for he finds the lack of performance strangely comforting. He doesn’t move or correct their position and lets them occupy most of the bed. He has endured worse conditions. The next morning he will tease with brutal honesty.
Magnus the Red
Magnus finds the entire thing fascinating. His beloved is asleep in a position he has never seen documented in any anatomical text and occupying almost the entire bed. He considers using telekinesis to reposition them but decides against it because somehow they look comfortable. He sits nearby reading. Every few minutes they produce a strange noise and Magnus looks over every time. Eventually they roll over and throw one arm across his lap so Magnus stays completely still so he doesn’t wake them. The next morning he delightedly explains that they demonstrated seven distinct sleeping positions. He counted.
Horus
He sees his beloved sleeping like a disaster and instantly smiles without hesitation. He loves it. The fact that someone so small has conquered an enormous bed is intimate and real. Nobody else but him gets this version of them. He sits beside them and gently brushes hair away from their face, the beloved answers by snoring directly against his hand. He laughs and takes a picture for affection but also possibly for teasing.
Lorgar
He finds it spiritually beautiful and makes everyone uncomfortable about it. His beloved is sprawled across the bed completely without dignity and Lorgar sees profound meaning, they trust him and have surrendered consciousness beside him without fear. “There is holiness even in this.” He whispers.
Vulkan
He is overwhelmingly affectionate and thinks every part is precious. Vulkan smiles so warmly the room may actually get brighter. He could easily move them but he doesn't, instead he carefully climbs into the remaining space. The beloved rolls closer, he pulls the blanket over them both. If they wake embarrassed Vulkan laughs and kisses their forehead.
Corvus Corax
He is quietly amused, tender and slightly impressed. He watches from the doorway and smiles slightly. It’s a rare sight and they look completely unguarded. Corvus retrieves the blanket and places it over them, they immediately kick one foot out. He adjusts it again and the foot returns. He accepts defeat and sits in the nearby chair, reading. When the beloved wakes up he shows them a small sketch, he tenderly documented the territorial expansion.
Alpharius Omegon
One twin enters, sees their beloved sleeping sideways occupying nearly the entire enormous bed and leaves. The other twin enters, sees the same thing and leaves. They return together and their beloved shifts taking even more space. In the morning they proudly inform the beloved that they successfully denied two Primarchs access to their own bed.
(this is for the ancient ask regarding the tickle monster thing, that was the best I could do;;)
Lion El’Jonson
He sits like a carved statue, arms folded and expression unchanged while his s/o pokes experimentally at his side. Nothing. Under his ribs. Nothing. They try behind his knee and a single eye twitches. The Lion quickly realizes that the tactical situation deteriorated.
The second poke makes him flinch so violently that an entire table shifts two inches across the floor, he catches their wrists instantly locking them in place with terrifying precision. He isn’t laughing but his ears are red.
Fulgrim
Fulgrim insists he isn’t ticklish but in reality he is devastatingly ticklish but he considers that an aesthetic betrayal of the body. The s/o brushes his side while helping him adjust some ridiculous ceremonial outfit and Fulgrim lets out a very undignified squeak.
“This absolutely didn’t happen.”
If they tickle him again he collapses into dramatic, beautiful laughter, trying to writhe away while also somehow making it look graceful. He will pretend to be offended afterward and demand reparations(kisses).
Perturabo
His s/o discovers it by accident brushing against his side and Perturabo is furious that biology has betrayed him. He jerks and the stylus snaps in his hand, he turns around slowly.
“Don’t exploit a structural vulnerability.” (the s/o hears ‘exploit the structural vulnerability’)
He doesn’t laugh loudly but he makes those horrible restrained huffs like an angry steam engine trying not to admit it’s amusing. He grabs their hands, holds them away and starts explaining how this is undignified and beneath both of them.
Jaghatai Khan
His s/o tickles his side once, he lets out one sharp laugh and then he is gone somewhere down the hallway laughing. “You will have to catch me first!”
He knows he is cheating but he slows down just enough to make it possible, he lets them almost catch him then slips away again laughing like this is the greatest entertainment the Imperium has ever produced. When they finally catch him he allows exactly three seconds of tickling before flipping them onto a couch and retaliating.
Russ
He pretends he doesn’t like it but he absolutely does. His s/o digs their fingers into his ribs and he lets out a booming laugh loud enough to make wolves start howling in the distance.
“Ah! Treachery! In my own hall!”
He makes no effort to escape at first because he thinks it is hilarious until he remembers he is supposed to be a mighty warrior king. He is now secretly waiting for his chance to grab them and start tickling back mercilessly. There is no victory against Russ, only escalation.
Dorn
The s/o tickles his side, no reaction. They try again, nothing.
“Are you attempting to provoke a reflex response?” Dorn looks down at them calmly.
His s/o becomes determined, they try ribs, stomach, neck, back, knees, everything but Dorn simply stands there patient and immovable. Finally after an absurd amount of effort they find one place just under his arm where he gives the smallest possible grunt.
“That location is classified.”
Konrad Curze
Tickling him produces the wrong kind of reaction. The s/o tries, Curze freezes and makes a sound that is halfway between a laugh and a threat.
The s/o continues and he twitches, bares his teeth and lets out this horrible giggle like a haunted raccoon in a drawer. He doesn’t know whether he wants to escape, bite, laugh or climb the walls. Probably all four.
“You have discovered nothing. You are doomed.” He is still giggling.
Sanguinius
The s/o finds out he is ticklish when they brush their fingers along the base of his wings. Sanguinius makes a noise so soft and startled that everyone within thirty feet immediately pretends not to hear it because they value their lives and emotional stability.
He actually blushes. “Beloved…”
If they keep tickling he tries to maintain dignity for approximately four seconds before dissolving into helpless laughter, wings folding around them both like a curtain, trapping them in feathers and begging for mercy while laughing.
Ferrus
The s/o tries and Ferrus gives them a flat look. “Are you finished?”
They keep on trying until they find one normal flesh spot near his lower ribs and he jerks so hard he dents the armrest of his chair.
If they try again he physically stands up and walks away in a full tactical withdrawal. He doesn’t run because that would imply panic, he is merely relocating from a compromised position.
Angron
A sudden unexpected touch is a good way to trigger a very bad reflex but if it’s softly and carefully from the s/o he trusts…He still hates it. He growls and catches their wrists.
“Stop.” He is not really angry, just overwhelmed. His body is always too much, sensation always too sharp and being made to laugh feels like losing control.
If the s/o is gentle, maybe tickling under his chin in a stupid affectionate way, he might give one rough unwilling snort and look horrified that he did so. He allows exactly one more attempt before picking them up and depositing them somewhere else.
Guilliman
He is ticklish but attempts to regulate this through discipline (it doesn't work). The s/o tickles him while he is reading a document and he inhales sharply, setting the document down carefully. “Beloved, I am working.” They tickle him again, his shoulders rise, mouth twitches, he is visibly fighting for his life. “I must insist-”
Again? He let out a warm startled human laugh that completely ruins his statesman image for the next ten minutes.
Mortarion
The s/o tries once and gets nothing but a grim stare. They try again. Nothing. They try under his arm. Nothing. They poke his side and Mortarion slowly looks down at their hands like it has personally disappointed him.
The s/o accidentally brushes the inside of his elbow and he makes the smallest ugliest snort. Mortarion stares back with the dead eyed expression of a man whose soul has just left his body. “Forget that.” He hates the noise and the fact that it happened.
Magnus the Red
He insists he has transcended such crude bodily responses. The first few attempts fail because he simply moves their hand with telekinesis until the s/o distract him with a kiss and attack his side. Magnus makes a sound of pure scandal. Candles flare, three books fall off the shelf and somewhere a rubric marine turns slightly confused.
Magnus isn’t extremely ticklish but the fact that he can be surprised makes it funny enough to be worth the risk. He will cheat and retaliate with psychic tickles from across the room.
Horus Lupercal
Horus enjoys it because he enjoys being adored. The s/o tickles him and he laughs warmly, catching them by the waist and pulling them closer instead of away. “Oh? Is this rebellion?” He lets them have their moment and is smiling the whole time.
He is ticklish around the ribs but he doesn’t mind because the intimacy pleases him. He likes the absurdity of being the Warmaster, breaker of worlds, undone by someone he loves poking his side.
“My turn.” His eyes gleam.
Lorgar
He is very ticklish and very emotionally complicated about it. The s/o touches his side and he laughs immediately, soft and startled, then looks almost betrayed by his own joy.
The s/o does it again, he laughs harder and becomes embarrassed because he is Lorgar and can’t experience a simple domestic moment without turning it into a spiritual event. He won’t run but he will curl inward trying to protect himself while laughing into his hands. If his s/o is sweet about it he becomes unbearably tender afterward.
Vulkan
The s/o tries and he laughs, the room shakes. He doesn’t stop them or defend himself, he simply sits there laughing with big warm delight because this is harmless and silly and he loves that his beloved feels safe enough to attack him with tiny fingers.
Eventually he gently catches them and smiles. “My turn?” Vulkan’s tickling is careful, affectionate and inescapable. He will reduce the s/o to helpless laughter while looking extremely pleased with himself.
Corvus Corax
The s/o tickles him once, he makes the tiniest startled sound and then vanishes. He is not angry but embarrassed.
If the s/o apologize he eventually reappears pretending nothing happened. If they tease him, he remains in stealth mode for an hour and later when they least expect it one pale hand emerges from behind them and tickles their side exactly once. Revenge.
Alpharius / Omegon
One of them is ticklish and the other isn’t but they refuse to clarify which. The s/o tickles Alpharius. No reaction. They tickle Omegon. No reaction so they leave.
The twins whispers among themselves.
“You almost laughed.”
“You almost died.”
Sometimes one twin pretends to be ticklish to mislead them, sometimes the s/o successfully tickles one and gets a laugh only for the twin to claim he was the other twin.
I was today years old when I learned that serf is a "a member of a servile feudal class bound to the land and subject to the will of its owner" and not a shorter version of self-insert
Lion El’Jonson
He finds it because nothing enters his quarters without being noticed. The letter is folded neatly and has no seal or signature. He reads it once, twice and places it on the desk, stands there in total silence and behaves like someone has just declared war on him using stationery. His first instinct is suspicion. Who delivered this? How did they bypass his security? Was this bait? A weakness test? A political maneuver? Some form of psychological infiltration? The letter says they feel safest when the Lion is near and that stirs something inside him. People fear him, obey and even rely on him but safety? Warmth? That hits him in a place he doesn’t have armor for. He keeps the letter inside a locked compartment beneath official campaign documents, behind three layers of coded access and a sword.
He becomes noticeably more alert around everyone and when he figures out who wrote the letter he doesn't confront them directly, he will simply appear beside them one evening.
“You should be more careful where you leave private correspondence…but I am glad you wrote it.”
Fulgrim
Fulgrim notices the letter immediately because it has been placed among his belongings with either exquisite taste or terrible nerve but either way he is interested. He begins reading it with the expression of a man expecting admiration because naturally who wouldn’t admire him? The letter does something dangerous, it doesn't praise his beauty first. It says they love him not because he is perfect but because sometimes they can see how tired perfection makes him. That’s not flattery, that’s perception and it’s much more intimate. For a moment he is deeply annoyed, offended even. How dare someone see the seam beneath the silk? How dare they suggest that the flawless image has weight?
Fulgrim acts impossibly composed afterward, he carries on with his day as if nothing happened but everyone around him can sense a shift. His compliments become sharper, more searching, his eyes linger trying to find the author. When he does he creates a moment.
“You saw me too clearly, that was very cruel of you.” He smiles. “Do it again.”
Perturabo
He receives the letter and immediately assumes it is a joke. Perturabo reads the confession with increasing irritation not because he hates it but because every kind sentence feels like an insult to the worldview he has been carefully building his entire life. The letter claims they admire the way his mind builds what others can’t even imagine. Fine. Correct. Obvious. But then they say they wish he knew he didn’t have to earn tenderness by being useful. Unacceptable. He puts the letter down and walks away then he comes back and reads it again. He starts mentally analyzing the structure of the argument. The emotional thesis is weak, the evidence is biased, the writer clearly has no objectivity and the conclusion is irrational…And yet…
He doesn’t tell anyone, obviously. If anyone asks he has received no such thing, there is no letter, only war, architecture and being correct. When he discovers the author, he doesn’t know how to respond properly.
“You are mistaken but your mistake has been… noted.” Which basically means he has built a fort for this feeling in the most inaccessible part of his soul and hates that you are allowed inside.
Jaghatai Khan
He receives the letter while traveling, it’s tucked into his gear, discovered on the move, carried by accident across half a continent or through the void before he finds it. He reads it under an open sky and smiles. A secret confession? Bold, he respects that. The letter doesn’t ask him to stay, it simply says how they would never cage him and only wanted him to know that if his road ever turns back this way, there is someone here who would be glad. Jaghatai has heard desire before but this? This is love that leaves the door open and the horse untethered.
He doesn’t rush back immediately, he is still himself and the road still calls for him but once he returns he is smiling. “I found your letter, you write like someone brave enough to let me leave. That makes me want to come back.”
Russ
He finds the letter and immediately assumes it’s meant for someone else because a secret love confession written so delicately? Surely not addressed to the giant wolf man currently chewing through life with his entire face. That lasts until he sees his name on the paper. The confession is warm and honest, it says it makes them feel like they could be loud and foolish and still be wanted. Russ laughs but it's not his usual laughter because for all his roaring and drinking he knows masks and performance, he knows what it is to play the savage because people need him to be simple and here someone has written to him as if he is allowed to be more.
He spends the next several hours being insufferable because he is happy and has no subtle channel for that emotion. He sings louder, drinks more and announces to no one in particular that letters are dangerous little beasts.
When he finds the writer, he grins. “You should have signed it so I’d know whose door to leave mine at.”
He writes back. It’s barely legible, smells faintly of smoke and is devastatingly sincere.
Dorn
Dorn receives the letter, reads it and stands completely still. He reads it again because the first reading produced an unexpected internal response and he needs to verify the data. The letter says he makes them feel protected but sometimes they wish you would let himself be held too.
Dorn’s face doesn’t change but internally a load-bearing wall has just collapsed. For the rest of the day he is more severe than usual because he is trying to compensate for the fact that someone has gently perceived him. He doesn’t play games and once he determines who wrote it he approaches them directly.
“I received your letter, it was well written.” And since he is honest even when honesty costs him everything, he continues. “I don’t know how to be held but I would like to learn.”
Sanguinius
Sanguinius knows before he even opens it, not the exact details but he feels the tremor around it, the fragile courage of whoever left it for him. He smiles when he reads it because the letter is sweet but the smile fades slightly once he realizes it’s not a distant admiration of the angel but rather someone confessing that they see someone who is not only holy but also very lonely. He has been adored and praised, painted into impossible shapes by other people’s needs but to be seen as lonely? That is intimate in a way that almost frightens him.
He keeps the letter folded near his heart and once he finds the author, he is gentle enough that it is almost unfair. “You were very brave.” He says as he takes their hand. ”I was hoping it was you.”
Konrad CurzeKonrad finds the letter before the writer intended him to. At first he assumes it’s a threat, once he reads he becomes too quiet because he has no idea what to do with tenderness that isn’t immediately followed by betrayal. The letter says how they know how he thinks the worst thing about himself is the truth but the writer disagrees. They think the worst thing is that no one ever stayed long enough to teach him there could be another ending.
Somewhere in him the future flickers. A hundred awful endings. The writer dead, leaving, afraid of him or seeing him too clearly and regretting it. His own hand, his own shadow, his own nature ruining the one soft thing stupid enough to approach. For days after the writer feels watched because they are. Konrad doesn’t approach like a normal person, he appears behind them at some impossible hour.
“You lied. You wrote as if you weren’t afraid but you were.” He leans closer and looks down at the letter as if it has done something terrible to him. “You should have chosen someone easier.” Konrad laughs once, it sounds almost broken, but he doesn’t leave.
Ferrus
He finds the letter, reads three lines and immediately becomes uncomfortable because it’s emotional and has no obvious practical application. The confession is blunt in places, almost awkward, which helps since if it had been too flowery he might have thrown it into a furnace out of reflex. The writer says they trust Ferrus’ hands because he tries to make everything better than it was. That is… acceptable. He folds the letter badly then unfolds it and folds it again slightly better.
He is not someone who would swoon over a secret confession and spend all day sighing over the handwriting but he would remember every word. He makes something for the writer before he even confirms who they are, something useful and beautiful in a way he would deny was beautiful. When he finds them, he offers it without ceremony.
“I received your letter. I am not good with words so I made this. It will last.”
Angron
He doesn’t understand the letter at first. He understands the content but not why someone would write them to him. He reads it once and crushes it slightly in his fist without meaning to, out of panic. The writer is not afraid of him, to make things worse they also write how they know the world has given him pain and called it purpose and how they don’t want anything from him, they just wished for one kind thing to reach him. Angron has no defense against that. He wants to destroy the letter but also to keep it and he hates both desires. For a long time he does nothing and simply hides the letter somewhere no one will find it because it is the only thing in his life that hasn’t asked for him to bleed.
When he discovers the author he doesn’t approach immediately. He watches warily like a wounded animal that has been fed once and expects the trap to spring. When he finally speaks, it’s rough.
“You wrote it? You shouldn’t have.” He proceeds quieter, like the words are being dragged out. “But I’m glad you did.”
Guilliman
He receives the letter and immediately tries to handle it like a responsible adult. He reads it in his office between state matters, it was tucked into a report folder. Whoever sent it knew exactly how to emotionally ambush him through paperwork. The confession is thoughtful, claiming they don’t love the empire he carries but rather the man who looks exhausted carrying it. He immediately creates three mental categories for the situation: Possible identities of sender, potential consequences and reasons he absolutely shouldn’t feel this warmth about it. He keeps working afterward but badly by Guilliman standards which means he only accomplishes the work of six normal governments instead of nine. During the day he can continue being lord commander but at night when he reads it again he is simply a lonely man with a letter that says someone noticed.
When he finds the writer he is painfully careful. “I received something from you, I believe.” He gives them every opportunity to deny it. “I have very little time that belongs only to me but I would like to give some of it to you.”
Mortarion
Mortarion immediately assumes the letter is a joke. Someone confessing love to him in secret? Absurd. He almost burns it without reading but at the last moment he reads it. The letter says they know he doesn’t believe gentle things survive but they also think he has survived more than anyone and there is still gentleness in him even if he hates it. Mortarion sits with that for a long time. He hates that someone looked through the poison and the bitterness and didn’t flinch.
For days, he is worse, snappier and more withdrawn because part of him wants to find the writer and demand why. Why would they say that? What do they want? What weakness did they see? But underneath all of that is the terrible unwanted hope that maybe the letter was real.
When he discovers who wrote it, he corners them somewhere private and looks absolutely furious. “You are a fool for writing all those things.” There is a long pause. “I accept your foolishness.”
Magnus the Red
He knows there is a secret letter before he physically finds it. The confession is intelligent and poetic, it speaks to Magnus not as a wonder or a creature of impossible power but as someone who wants to be understood. It says they think he is lonelier than he admits, because he is always reaching for minds but rarely letting anyone reach him. Magnus is delighted then wounded then delighted again and finally wounded again. He spends an outrageous amount of time analyzing the handwriting, syntax, metaphor choices, emotional implications and possible occult resonances. He claims this is intellectual curiosity but in honesty he is smitten.
Magnus writes a reply, a beautiful one, the sort of letter that starts as a response and becomes a philosophical treatise on longing and the terrifying privilege of being known.
When he finds the author he looks at them like they are both a mystery and a miracle. “You should know that words have power and yours have already changed me.”
Horus
He finds the letter and smiles before he even opens it for he knows the shape of admiration, he has received plenty. At first he reads it with the confidence and warm amusement of someone accustomed to being loved but the letter suddenly cuts deeper. It says how everyone loves the light he gives but they love the moments when he steps out of it and looks tired of shining. For once he doesn’t show it to anyone, boast about it or turn it into a charming anecdote.
Horus would find the writer quickly since he is too socially intelligent not to. When he approaches them he is gentle and devastatingly charismatic.
“I have been praised many times but your letter didn’t praise me.” He steps closer. “It invited me to rest. I would like to know what that feels like… with you.”
Vulkan
Vulkan receives the letter and is immediately tender about it without even reading it first. Just the fact that someone was brave enough to leave it secretly makes him careful. He holds the paper like it’s something sacred. The letter praises him for being kind in a galaxy that punishes kindness and how they love him for keeping it anyway. He smiles at it but there is grief in it too because Vulkan knows the cost of being gentle in a brutal world. He keeps the letter close and makes a protective case for it with absurd craftsmanship.
When he finds the writer, he is warm and gentle. “I found your letter. No, don’t fear, it brought me joy.” He offers his hand. “You saw kindness in me and I see courage in you.”
Corvus Corax
Corax finds the letter even if it was hidden extremely well. He reads it in silence, somewhere dim and high. The letter says they know he is used to being unseen and that they only wanted him to know that they see him and they are glad when he returns. Corax has to stop reading for a moment because being seen is complicated for him, sometimes it feels like exposure or vulnerability but this letter doesn’t drag him into the light.
He doesn’t reveal immediately that he knows, instead the writer begins finding signs: a flower where they like to sit, a threat quietly removed from their life, a dark feather. Eventually he approaches them. “I saw your words and I didn’t feel trapped. I felt… remembered.”
Alpharius OmegonThe letter is addressed to ‘the one I mean’. Devastatingly efficient. Both of them read it and assume it’s for them. Both of them are wrong and right.
The letter says they don’t know how to love a secret without becoming one but they know that somewhere in the maze there is a person and they want him to know that he is wanted.
Both begin investigating separately and then discover the other is also investigating which leads to the most passive aggressive twin nonsense imaginable. There are now twelve fake letters, four decoy admirers, two staged misunderstandings and one operative who has been reassigned because he accidentally developed feelings for the handwriting analysis.
Eventually, they both confront the writer. “You understand loving us would be complicated… but to which one was it intended?”
Malcador invents an interplanetary song contest to promote unity.
Lion El’Jonson
The performance begins with thirty seconds of silence, the hosts panic while the audience waits until a single hooded figure appears in artificial fog and whispers “not all oaths are spoken.” The beat drops and suddenly the stage becomes a haunted forest, the backup dancers are knights or traitors, it’s unclear. The camera keeps cutting to empty trees where someone was definitely standing a moment ago.
Chorus:
“In the forest, under stone
I kept the truth and walked alone.”
The song is technically excellent but nobody understands the meaning of the lyrics, the Lion refuses to explain.
Fulgrim
A giant mirrored flower opens at the center stage and Fulgrim emerges in white, gold, violet and moral danger, the camera lens briefly becomes better at its job out of fear. The vocals are flawless and he sings in at least five languages, changes costume twice mid song, hits a note so high it causes one jury member to reconsider their career and has a bridge where he stares directly into the camera and whispers “you wanted beauty, now behave.”
The choreography is perfect but so intense that three backing dancers need emotional counseling afterward. The wind machine finds him from every angle and the staging budget has clearly violated several treaties.
Perturabo
His performance is technically astonishing and emotionally uninviting. The stage is an actual real fortress, the production crew tried to say the stage couldn’t support it but Perturabo made sure it could. The song opens with heavy percussion made from actual industrial equipment, the rhythm is precise, brutal and oddly catchy if you enjoy feeling accused.
The chorus:
“Build me high, build me deep,
stone remembers what you keep.”
There is a guitar solo that is also a structural demonstration and at one point a bridge lowers, cannons fire sparks and the camera drone nearly dies in a trench.
Jaghatai
Jaghatai’s song starts slow with one lone voice, a drumbeat like hooves and a horizon projected across the stage…then the tempo accelerates, and accelerates and accelerates even more until the entire performance is a storm of throat singing, electric strings, percussion and dancers moving like cavalry through neon dust. Somehow a motorcycle appears, the hosts weren't informed.
The chorus:
“No road ends if the heart runs faster.”
Russ
The song begins with a massive horn blast, drums and chanting then Russ roars “ARE YOU AWAKE?” The audience screams yes, survival instinct kicking in. His backing performers are Space Wolves with drums and axes, there are fake snow machines, real bonfires and a wolf that may or may not have been cleared by production.
The chorus:
“Raise the cup, bare the fang,
winter lives where brothers sang!”
By the end half the arena is chanting with him, the host lost control completely and Magnus is pretending not to tap his foot.
Dorn
He stands center stage in severe formal armor while a choir builds behind him, the stage slowly becoming a glowing wall, brick by brick, light by light. The lyrics are direct, almost painfully sincere. There is no glitter or dancers, just Dorn, a choir and drums like marching feet, all with the emotional force of refusing to fall.
The jury respects it and the public vote is stronger than expected because the song hits every exhausted worker, soldier, parent and person who has ever said ‘I just need to get through today.’ The staging has exactly one pyrotechnic moment and it’s a golden flare at the final chorus, it’s perfectly timed.
Konrad Curze
The hosts introduce Nostramo with professional terror. The stage is too dark and a childlike music box starts playing while a light flickers, suddenly Curze appears upside down from somewhere no one approved, the audience screams.
The song is about guilt, cameras and the moment before punishment. The staging uses audience close ups without consent and people see their own faces on the screens with words like liar, thief and YOU KNOW. The jury is horrified.
At the end Curze looks into the camera and says “you enjoyed that.”
Sanguinius
Sanguinius walks onto the stage alone, with soft lights and a desert horizon behind him. The first verse is almost a whisper, the entire arena goes silent.
The chorus:
“If tomorrow comes, I will meet it bright,
even if I know the shape of night.”
People start crying before the key change, the camera catches his face in profile and every fan edit in the galaxy is born in that instant, even Mortarion looks uncomfortable in the way people look when they are feeling something against their will.
Ferrus
He refuses unnecessary spectacle but then he creates a stage full of fire, steel, hammer rhythm and live forging…so apparently spectacle is acceptable if it can hurt you. The song is built around percussion from hammers striking metal, the guitar tone sounds like machinery waking up angry, Ferrus’s vocals are rough and direct.
Chorus:
“Iron in the blood, fire in the hand,
break what bends and make it stand.”
During the instrumental break he forges a blade live onstage, the production crew says this violates rules but the blade sparks in time with the drums.
Angron
Everyone expected a disaster and they got just that but also catharsis. Angron’s song is raw and violent, it’s just a distorted bassline, pounding drums and him screaming like the stage owes him blood.
The chorus is shouted by his sons:
"No chains left! No gods left!
No masters under my skin!”
By the final chorus people are standing because something old and furious in them recognizes the sound. Angron leaves the stage immediately after finishing, the host asks how he feels and he simply replies “done.”
Roboute Guilliman
The song is catchy, the lyrics are uplifting, the staging is clean, the camera angles are rehearsed, the backing singers are excellent and the choreography creates formations that resemble civic infrastructure. It’s almost too competent.
Chorus:
“Hand by hand, stone by stone
no one builds the future alone.”
Guilliman has a full press package, translated lyrics, accessibility captions, educational materials and a post show policy brief about cultural cohesion. The fans call him Spreadsheet ABBA. He doesn’t understand why this is funny but he does understand that the song charts very well.
Mortarion
His entry is deeply unpleasant on purpose. The stage fills with oppressive fog and he sings in a low, gravelly voice over slow drums, bells. and a droning string instrument. The song is about endurance, survival and refusing false sweetness.
Chorus:
“Breathe if you can, crawl if you must,
Flowers die, all crowns rust.”
The jury is split, some call it atmospheric and bold while others say it made them want to open a window.
Magnus the Red
He submits a song that is either genius or a war crime against accessibility, the lyrics are in several languages, including one not approved by the production team. The staging begins with Magnus alone under a starfield, suddenly there are dancers moving like planets and the camera angle briefly shows the stage from above, below and inside. The hosts pretend this is normal.
The song has three key changes, one time signature change and an instrumental section that makes the jury’s note cards levitate.
Horus
He understands the contest better than anyone, he doesn’t try to be the prettiest or most technical, instead he tries to make every viewer feel included. The song begins intimate with Horus alone, half-lit, singing about expectation, loneliness and carrying others until the chorus opens like the sunrise.
By the second chorus the entire arena is singing and Horus walks the stage like he owns it but makes the audience feel like they own it with him. The juries, hosts and camera operators adore him. “He has optimized emotional access.” Guilliman comments..
Lorgar
He brings a choir, then another choir and then a children’s choir and a candlelit stage shaped like a book. The song is gorgeous, it starts as a soft confession and builds into a massive devotional anthem about longing, rejection, belief and being seen by something greater than yourself.
Chorus:
“Name me in the fire,
Hold me in the sound,
I was lost before I knelt,
But now I am found.”
The audience and the jury are sobbing while the legal department is asking whether this counts as conversion.
Vulkan
The song is about endurance, kindness and keeping a fire lit for someone who hasn't found their way home yet. It is simple and devastating, people call their mothers during the voting break.
Chorus:
“Keep the fire warm, keep the doorway wide,
no one walks the dark alone tonight.”
Vulkan’s sons join him for the final chorus, the jury praises authenticity, public vote is huge among families, workers and anyone who has ever needed a hug at 2 am.
Corvus Corax
Corvus didn’t want to enter until he discovered that the competition has a platform, voting system and cameras pointed at millions of people so he entered. The stage is stark, harsh searchlights sweep over the audience like surveillance beams, Corvus stands in shadow with a guitar and a low electronic beat behind him.
Chorus:
“No kings in the dark, no chains in the song,
if they are still breathing, we have waited too long.”
The screens show silhouettes of workers, prisoners, rebels, children, birds in flight, broken locks, open doors. The jury says it’s political and Corvus replies that so is silence. Guilliman says he agrees with the message but suggests more institutional framing and Corvus ignores him.
Alpharius Omegon
Alpharius submits one entry and another and then twelve more. During rehearsals three different performers claim to be the lead vocalist. The song is catchy in a deeply suspicious way.
Chorus:
“Who is singing? Who is seen?
I was never where I’ve been.”
The staging uses mirrors, masks, identical dancers, fake technical errors and one moment where the host appears on stage despite being backstage. The audience loves it but the juries hate it because they can’t tell who to score. During voting several planets accidentally give points to Not Alpharius. An audit is demanded, Alpharius supports the audit while Omegon has already audited the audit.
The Emperor
The Emperor performs the interval act, it’s supposed to be light entertainment while votes are counted but instead he gives a solemn spoken orchestral piece about humanity’s destiny among the stars. Malcador keeps trying to signal the conductor to cut to the next section. The audience is unsure whether to clap or enlist.
At the end a giant golden eagle descends from the ceiling but it gets stuck halfway. Malcador drinks from a mug that may not contain tea.
Funny request incoming! How would the Primarchs react to hearing one of their own Astartes say something unbelievably stupid within earshot when asked about where do babies come from by another younger Astartes?
Like when you hear someone say something so impossibly wrong and stupid, but with such confidence, that it leaves you stun locked for a moment
(I don't know how to name this🤣)
“Brother… where do babies come from?” A very young astartes newly enlisted and still with that tragic ‘I have never had a normal childhood and I think nutrition paste is cuisine’ energy asks.
An older astartes with the confidence of a man who has conquered worlds but never attended basic biology replies something so wrong that reality itself pauses.
Lion El’Jonson
“Babies are produced when a fortress monastery’s machine spirit approves a compatible pair of skull measurements.”
The Lion freezes and everyone in the room feels the temperature drop by seven degrees. He turns his head very slowly and gives the astartes exactly three seconds to realize his mistake.
“Explain.”
The Astartes tries but it only gets worse. The Lion places one hand over his face and is privately wondering whether the Emperor included basic reproductive knowledge in the great crusade educational package or if this was yet another one of his tbd details.
“You will attend a remedial lecture.” The Lion concludes. The Dark Angels later classify the incident, the younger astartes is told the truth, the older one is assigned to archival duty until shame becomes part of his personality.
Fulgrim
“Babies are made when two people both become aesthetically complete enough that a cherub manifests.”
Fulgrim hears that and for one brief second his face is completely blank in absolute psychic disconnection. “My son, that was the ugliest sentence ever spoken in my presence.” He begins a lecture that starts with biology, becomes art theory, detours into poetry, condemns ignorance as a crime against beauty and ends with the entire squad being enrolled in Foundations of Human Life, Courtship and Not Embarrassing Your Primarch in Public.
The younger Astartes leaves informed while the older one leaves emotionally exfoliated.
Perturabo
“Babies are assembled in batches like munitions, civilians simply lack quality control.”
Perturabo stops walking and turns around. “Repeat that.” The Astartes repeats and Perturabo just stares with the face of a man discovering a structural flaw in a bridge he personally designed.
“You believe the human species is manufactured like artillery shells?”
The Astartes hesitates. “...With less reliability, my lord.”
Perturabo closes his eyes and you can hear one of his remaining hopes die. He gives the most brutally efficient reproductive biology lesson in Imperial history complete with diagrams, mechanical analogies and insults.
“If I ever hear you explain biology through siege logistics again I will assign you to inventory every bolt in the fleet.” The primarch concludes. The younger Astartes now understands.
Jaghatai
“Babies come from speed, when two people ride fast enough beneath the open sky, the wind chooses.”
Jaghatai hears this and laughs immediately. “That is the stupidest thing I have heard this century.” The older Astartes looks embarrassed and the younger one looks confused. “Listen, life is stranger and far less aerodynamic than that.”
He explains it plainly and with surprising gentleness but keeps laughing every time he remembers ‘the wind chooses’. For the next several months the entire brotherhood uses the phrase ‘the wind chooses’ whenever someone announces a birth on a compliant world.
Russ
“Babies come from drinking enough mead and winning a wrestling match against fate.”
Russ nods slowly and for one horrifying moment everyone thinks he agrees until he speaks.
“That is wrong, but not as wrong as it should be.” He walks over and claps the older warrior's back hard enough to almost crack the armor. “You’ve got the spirit, pup, but you’ve missed several important steps.”
“Does wrestling occur?” The younger astartes asks.
Russ thinks about it. “Sometimes.”
A wolf priest immediately materialize from nowhere. “My lord, please allow me.”
Russ is removed from the conversation before he can make it worse. Later he hosts a feast where he tells a long extremely inappropriate Fenrisian version of the facts of life involving wolves, storms, endurance and respecting women because otherwise they will kill you and deserve to. The younger Astartes learns something but nobody is sure of what exactly.
Dorn
“Babies are grown when a household reaches sufficient structural stability.”
Dorn hears that and looks at the astartes with the expression of a fortress wall being disappointed.
“No.”
“No, my lord?” The Astartes straightens.
“No.”
The younger astartes waits for more and Dorn realizes with visible pain that more is required so he explains reproduction with the exact tone he would use to describe masonry, it’s terrifyingly practical with out unembellished or euphemisms despite the entire squad wishing there had been euphemisms.
“Don't invent civic infrastructure theories about childbirth again.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Also households do benefit from stability.” Dorn adds. “But that is unrelated to conception.”
Konrad Curze
“Babies come from nightmares, if enough people are afraid in one place a small human appears to continue the suffering.”
Curze hears that and makes a weird sound that may be laughter.
“Wrong.” He leans in. “But thematically… interesting.”
The younger Astartes is now more confused and significantly more traumatized, Sevatar who has been standing nearby ends up explaining the basics in the driest possible tone while Curze occasionally interrupts from the shadows with comments like “and then they are born screaming.”
Sanguinius
“Babies are made when two souls love each other so much that the Emperor sends them a tiny servant.”
Sanguinius hears this and looks physically pained. “My son, that is… very sweet.” He approaches gently and places a hand on his shoulder. “And almost entirely incorrect. Love can be involved, often, one hopes it is but there is also nature at work.”
He explains it kindly and with enough delicacy that nobody feels mocked and with enough accuracy that the sanguinary priests silently nod in approval. The younger Astartes understands, the older one is embarrassed but not crushed. Sanguinius later asks the Chaplains whether perhaps the legion’s education has been a little too focused on swordsmanship and blood rites.
Ferrus
“Babies are manufactured through inferior organic replication, the flesh copies itself because it lacks proper modularity.”
Ferrus stops hammering and slowly sets down the tool. “You are technically approaching a concept and somehow still failing. The flesh is weak, yes, but it isn’t a forge template.” He explains reproduction in blunt practical terms using enough biological detail to be correct and enough mechanical comparison to keep them from panicking.
“You won’t teach again until you understand the difference between organic process and manufacturing.”
“Yes, father.”
“And don't call infants unfinished components, civilians dislike that.”
The Iron Hands quietly amend several educational scrolls.
Angron
“Babies come from blood, enough blood spills and eventually life crawls out of it.”
Angron hears and everything stops, the older Astartes suddenly realizes he has chosen the worst possible primarch to say this near.
“No.” Angron turns, jaw tight. “That is what monsters tell themselves when they only know how to make corpses. People are born from bodies, women and from pain, yes, but not that kind, it isn’t a slaughter. Don’t make life sound like one of our battlefields.” Then he walks away before anyone can see too much on his face.
Guilliman
“Babies are issued by local family governance after a successful marriage petition and population sustainability review.”
Guilliman hears this, his face is calm but his soul nearly left his body.
“...Issued?”
“Yes, my lord, by civic authority.”
Guilliman blinks very slowly. “I have failed you.”
“No, my lord!” The Astartes immediately panics.
“Yes, clearly. Somewhere in your education a catastrophic omission occurred and now you believe municipal paperwork is reproductive.”
“It is not?” The younger astartes whispers and Guilliman visibly ages.
He organizes an emergency curriculum reform within six hours. The original Astartes isn’t punished but he is cited anonymously in the introduction as ‘a demonstrated educational failure.’
Mortarion
“Babies grow from spores in damp places, that’s why civilians keep their houses warm.”
Mortarion hears that and for one long moment he stays in silence.
“No.”
The Astartes waits.
“And never say that again.” Mortarion continues.
“But my lord, don’t they grow?”
Mortarion looks like he has been stabbed by stupidity. “Not like fungus.”
“But there is an incubation-”
“Stop helping.”
He gives a short and factual explanation stripped of romance, mystery and any possible joy, he makes normal biology sound like a diagnosis.
“Life is already unpleasant, don’t make it idiotic.” The Death Guard accept this as inspirational wisdom.
Magnus the Red
“Babies are formed when two psychic signatures resonate and attract a soul fragment from the immaterium into a prepared vessel.”
Magnus slowly lowers his book, the statement is wrong but in a way that has wandered too close to several metaphysical arguments Magnus would absolutely like to have.
“No, not precisely.”
Magnus gives a lecture about reproductive biology, genetics, psychic resonance and the philosophical question of when consciousness enters matter. The younger Astartes looks increasingly haunted, the older one tries to take notes and gives up after the phrase ‘ontological threshold’.
After two hours, Magnus concludes. “So, in summary, you were wrong.”
“Where do babies come from then?”
Magnus smiles. “Let us begin again.”
Horus
“Babies happen when a great leader inspires a population hard enough.”
Horus hears this and nearly chokes on his drink.
“What?”
“Because morale increases birth rates, my lord.” The Astartes smiles proudly. This is the kind of wrong that has a tiny piece of political truth inside it, making it vastly more annoying.
Horus laughs first until he sees that the younger astartes genuinely believes it. “Oh. You’re serious.” He puts an arm around both of them like a beloved warlord about to deliver the most uncomfortable fireside chat of their lives. “Right. We are fixing this before you embarrass me in front of a remembrancer.” Horus explains it plainly, with charisma, humor and exactly enough vulgarity that they will remember it forever, by the end the squad is informed and slightly traumatized.
Lorgar
“Babies are granted when faith pleases the divine and a household becomes worthy of receiving a soul.”
Lorgar hears this and his eyes shine, that answer is wrong but it’s spiritually marketable. He interrupts only because he remembered he is supposed to be responsible. “My son… there is beauty in what you said but we mustn’t confuse metaphor with mechanism.” He then gives a lecture that is half biology and half sermon, the younger Astartes leaves understanding the basic reproductive process and also believing childbirth is a sacred ritual written in flesh. The older one is gently praised for seeking meaning but corrected for being factually disastrous.
Vulkan
“Babies are made when a family loves each other so much that they build one together, like a small forge project.”
Vulkan hears that and his face does the thing where he is trying very hard not to laugh because the answer is wrong but also extremely adorable.
“That isn’t how it works, my son, but I understand why you said it.”
He explains with warmth, patience and absolutely no shame. The younger Astartes asks many questions and Vulkan answers all of them.
“So they aren’t built?” The older Astartes asks.
Vulkan pats his shoulder. “No but they are raised, that’s the building part.”
Corvus Corax
“Babies emerge from silence when loneliness becomes too heavy.”
Corax hears this from the shadows and remains silent for so long that both Astartes assume they are safe until a voice comes from behind them.
“That was poetry pretending to be information, don’t do that.” Corax steps forward and the older Astartes almost jumps out of his armor.
“But it sounded meaningful, my lord.” The younger Astartes says.
Corax sighs and explains the truth quietly and directly, though with a melancholy edge that makes the whole thing sound like a tragic folk story.
“Loneliness may lead people to seek love and love may lead to children but babies don’t condense out of sorrow… Usually.”
The Raven Guard are left unsure whether that final part was a joke.
Alpharius Omegon
“Babies are created when two adults exchange classified genetic intelligence through a covert biological operation.”
Alpharius is nearby or Omegon or both.
“That isn’t entirely inaccurate.” He says
“It is also a terrible explanation.” The other twin speaks as he appears from absolutely nowhere.
“Was I wrong?” The older Astartes looks between them.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Operationally.”
“Pedagogically.”
The younger Astartes is now more confused than before. The twins proceed to explain reproduction using intelligence terminology, espionage metaphors, at least three false examples, one true example disguised as a lie and a diagram that self-destructs after viewing.
“So… where do babies come from?” The younger Astartes asks at the end.
“Ask your apothecary.” Alpharius smiles.
“But don’t trust his first answer.” Omegon adds.
