Back then, the Sons of the Emperor were still laughing

"Of course not—"

Kasgar had intended to refuse outright.

But... this matter wasn't so clear-cut.

As the genetic template for the Space Marine gene-seed augmentation process, a Primarch held an innate genetic dominion over the Space Marines who inherited his seed.

Some could even command their sons to bare their throats for the blade, and they would accept it willingly.

Though there were ruthless individuals like Perturabo who could "defy their superior," this suppression was absolute and effective—as for the precise extent of its effect...

He wasn't sure.

Faced with the very real possibility of becoming this woman's plaything, Kasgar fell silent.

Seeing his hesitation, Fulgrim chuckled, planted a kiss on his cheek, and changed the subject.

"Alright, I'll stop teasing you."

"Everyone, as the reborn Sons of the Emperor of the Third Legion, let's take a group photo together."

She produced a pict-recorder and smiled at the assembled crowd.

"With pleasure, My Lord."

Vespasian paused for a moment, then replied.

"In the future, once we have a flagship, I'll design a long gallery at its center."

"There, we'll display the glory of the Third Legion and our arduous history, piece by piece, for future generations."

"I've even thought of a name for the gallery—the Path of Triumph."

Inside a private cabin aboard the Pride of the Emperor, Fulgrim waved the photograph in her hand like a trophy.

"And this photo is the glorious starting point of our triumph!"

All arrangements for Chemos were in place, and negotiations with the various factions of the Imperium were proceeding smoothly.

Not long after, Fulgrim and Kasgar boarded the Pride of the Emperor, crossed the Mandeville Point, and embarked on a lengthy Warp voyage lasting several weeks.

During this idle stretch of time, they managed to snatch a few moments of leisure.

"Let me see how the photo turned out."

Kasgar studied the picture in her hand, carefully identifying each Son of the Emperor.

At the very center of the photo stood he and Fulgrim.

Behind them were the three commanders of the Legion.

To the left, a white-haired woman in ornate power armor, a confident smile on her face, was one of the current three commanders of the Sons of the Emperor—Adrol.

"Adrol?"

Kasgar's mouth twitched slightly.

It seemed the threads of fate had shifted a little, causing Commander Eidolon to lose something important.

No matter.

Though the little head hadn't survived, this time I'll make sure the big head stays intact.

Kasgar offered her this silent consolation.

Beside him at the center stood Commander Abdelon.

His expression was stern; compared to the flashy idol-like commander before him, he looked more like a soldier.

To the right was Commander Vespasian.

He had short, bristly chestnut hair, darker skin, and a resolute, upright bearing.

The true pride of the Third Legion, he stood like a sentinel in the photo, straight as a ramrod.

His piercing eyes stared directly into the lens, as if trying to see through it.

Familiar names flickered one by one across the nerves of Kasgar's memory.

Some Legion warriors refused to remove their helmets and show their faces.

So Kasgar still didn't know their true identities.

As for the far right of the photo, a silver-haired woman with dark circles under her eyes and a look of impatience...

She wore a white lab coat over her power armor.

And compared to the others, she had several spider-like "limbs" on her shoulders.

That was the origin of her spider nickname within the Legion.

The Chief Apothecary of the Sons of the Emperor—Melusine.

"...Melusine."

Kasgar frowned, his finger slowly coming to rest on her.

The apothecary so crucial to the future of the Sons of the Emperor and the entire galaxy—the Old Doctor, Fabius Bile—was gone.

In their place was his original daughter, Melusine.

Was this an omen of changes yet to come?

Or a chain reaction set off by the appearance of a female Primarch?

"Just imagine—when the Great Crusade is done and we've replenished our ranks, the Third Legion, thanks to my super-super-super brilliant leadership, will perfectly overcome every challenge we face and become the model for all Legions—"

Now, it was Fulgrim's fantasy time.

"By then,"

"Heh heh, I'll lead the other returning Primarchs along the Path of Triumph, explaining the Third Legion's road to revival, and bask in their envious gazes!"

"They'll definitely say, 'Wow, no wonder you're the strongest, most beautiful, and wisest Primarch, Fulgrim!'"

Kasgar pinched his throat and chimed in.

"'Aaaaah, great Fulgrim, we're so-so-so—so in awe of you!'"

"'Please, tell us how you govern a planet, lead the Great Crusade, and make everything so flawless!'"

"'We all want to follow your example and learn from you!'"

"'Please teach us!!!'"

Whether other Primarchs would act like that was up for debate, but the Wolf King, Leman Russ, just might.

Ever since he'd tasted the wine Fulgrim brewed at the welcoming banquet, he'd been desperately trying to cozy up to the two of them.

He said the wine was a bit bland, but if you mixed it with Fenrisian ale, it became incredibly fragrant and kept you coming back for more.

There was no doubt that guy would stoop to any flattery just to get his hands on some booze.

"Hehehe, I'm really not that amazing!"

"Hehe. Hehehe."

Fulgrim tilted her pale chin back and let out a happy, silly laugh.

Seeing this, Kasgar couldn't help but smile.

"Alright!"

"But talking without action won't cut it!"

Suddenly, Fulgrim's smile faded, and she swiftly rolled out of bed.

Though she reveled in dreams of the future, she was never one to just talk without doing.

Even now, while still traveling through the Warp, she had to seize every moment to restore the entire Third Legion.

As the perfect Primarch, everything she did would set an example for the whole Legion.

She couldn't let the Emperor's hopes fall short, nor bring shame to the double-headed eagle emblem on her chest.

She had to always be at her best.

That was her duty, her obligation.

"On this flagship, there are countless knowledge waiting for us to explore; for the sake of our future work, there's still so much more to accomplish."

"Kasgar, I'll excuse myself for now."

With that, she hugged Kasgar and gave him another kiss, then hastily slipped into a gorgeous purple robe, opened the door, and strode briskly toward the library.

Let's hope.

Hope the future really turns out that way.

And not as a ruined, filthy flagship steeped in utter depravity, its former glory lost forever, Where she'd have to slit the throat of some blue guy who loved duels but could never win one.