"Gone," Fulgrim said, looking down from a tiny balcony into the center of the Andronius within the reverberations of the universe.

Eidolon, standing next to him, shifted - probably assuming the Phoenician was mad and weighing his chances of coming out on top in a later battle. Vespasian and Fabius knew better than to doubt their Primarch.

"All gone," Fulgrim said, looking at the devastated landscape of the Hall of Rites.

"A couple of defectors tried to crash the flagship into Carenn's surface," Vespasian remarked. "It could be worse."

"Yes, but what did I ever do to Kaesoron?" Fulgrim swung to face the Lord Commanders. "Ten of fifty Captains, dead, traitors, or both. A fifth of my Legion likewise. Why?"

"I - "

"Lorgar told me," Fulgrim said, "that I should kill any of my children I even suspected of disloyalty. But Kaesoron… and Vairosean. Whatever happened to Vairosean?"

The Astartes held no answers. Neither did the marble statues below, relics of a bygone era.

"Must tragedy always follow our Legion?"

"Lord father," Fabius noted. "They left because they worried what the Legion was becoming. Some of those who remain feel it, too. I - " the Apothecary seemed lost for words, wearing an impassive visage like a porcelain mask.

The mask cracked violently, Fulgrim curiously noticed. "They're blaming me! For the Emperor's sake, I don't have the skill to manipulate their emotions beyond the basics. Any mental modifications have rendered my brothers incapable of combat - and Rylanor's Neophytes have proven the disastrous failure of any extreme physical alterations."

Ah. Yes, Fabius was far from omnipotent - Fulgrim had asked him about the possibility of some sort of loyalty detector once, and the good doctor had flown into a rage. "Do they truly believe your alterations serve some sinister purpose?"

"Yes," Fabius screamed, "yes! And these aren't the beliefs of some fringe group, either - half the Legion, including some I've worked with to improve their bodies, thinks that I'm at the very least adding drugs to make them worship Slaanesh."

Vespasian nodded, rather sadly. "The cult of Slaanesh - it worries me, father. I wish to be clear that I trust your judgment; but Slaanesh feels like it's splitting the Legion in two."

"Walk with me, Vespasian." Fulgrim turned to the other two Lord Commanders, the unreal wings behind his back - not a mark of favor from the Warp, but something deeper - swiveling. "Go! Set up the Brotherhood's next meeting. We have war to forge."

Fabius and Eidolon walked off, and Fulgrim let of a slight grunt in dissatisfaction with their slowness. They should have been happy. Were they happy? Was Fulgrim happy?

Was Vespasian? "Are you happy?" the Primarch asked his son.

"Not at this point," Vespasian said. "Not after Kaesoron and Vairosean betrayed you. I know what you mean, but - Father - I will worship Slaanesh if you wish me to, but I am unquiet about the effects."

"You are right to," Fulgrim said. "The Warp is a powerful ally, but an even more powerful enemy. And the two are closely related, and the soul of the galaxy is singing. Listen! Do you not hear?"

"I do not, lord father."

"Well, you are not a Primarch." Fulgrim felt like singing himself - not the abrupt, primal music that he felt, but something more upbeat. "But no, I will not infringe on your freedoms, though I would like for you to join us on this path. That would defeat the whole point!"

"Again," said Vespasian with frustrated rage, "I'm loyal - I wish I could kill Kaesoron right here, right now. But - "

"But freedom rings, to a limited extent. I'm in a good mood right now, Vespasian. Despite everything." He really was- this war would be grand, true perfection's evolution. "Ask me one question, Vespasian. Any question."

Vespasian spent no time in thinking - he was as sure about this as Fulgrim. "In the end, are you more loyal to Slaanesh or the Emperor?"

"I'm loyal to both, of course!"

"I mean - if there was a choice." The Primarch and the Commander were passing through a poorly lit area of the Andronius, and Fulgrim considered the possibility of a vermin infestation. "If the two came into conflict."

"Do you not understand? I am loyal to both, of course, but I am a part of neither. We are devoted to perfection, Vespasian; a single Legion, a single arrow, hurtling towards the wondrous sun. I would choose the perfect option when confronted with any choice, no matter how impossible - even between the radiance of the Emperor and the incarnation of life itself, which Slaanesh is."

And Vespasian, understanding, grinned. "Of course."

"Of course?" Did Vespasian comprehend?

"Of course," Vespasian said. "You're balancing on a knife's edge. That's the problem - you need the Legion to follow you. No matter what. Kaesoron and Vairosean could not keep their balance, because the former was not loyal to anything beyond his own ideal of justice, and the latter only saw the wonder in the Emperor. And some… some will choose Slaanesh over you. Lucius. Ruen. The time will come when the Third Legion will stand at the bottom of a crater of destruction." Vespasian looked up at the Primarch. "And I will be proud to stand there with you, father."

He saw. Fulgrim felt excitement race in a wave of ice across his body. "The Legion will fail, Vespasian; I see now that I cannot stop that. And yet it will reborn."

"Like a phoenix from the ashes," Vespasian said.

"We will rise and reign once more," his father completed.

TO BE CONTINUED in the sixth book of the Renegades Saga, Bright Swords, and the seventh book, When Death Calls.