Fourth Brother, Can We Make Peace?

Chapter 12: Fourth Brother, Can We Make Peace?

Happy times were always short-lived. As Hogg's acting grew more and more convincing, he became ever more magnificent in Perturabo's eyes. The look Perturabo gave him grew increasingly tender and reverent, and the heavy emotions in that gaze made Hogg feel that something was terribly wrong.

Damn it! Maybe I took this act too far.

The Emperor's psychic communication had arrived. As the Bucephalus drew closer, everyone waited in Olympia's plaza for the Emperor's arrival.

The massive Stormbird Transports touched down. Squads of Adeptus Custodes filed out and lined up in orderly rows, like golden ears of corn in a field. The Space Marines of the Fourth Legion came after them.

Still the familiar towering figure in gold, still the familiar entrance, still the familiar bewitching gaze. An aura as potent as a human aphrodisiac surrounded the Emperor. Beneath that radiant golden light, every human would follow him of their own accord.

The moment Perturabo laid eyes on the Emperor, he knew that this was his father. So powerful, so great and radiant. But when he turned around, he saw his mother, who should have been smiling, cowering nervously at his side.

He stroked the Adamantium Bracelet his mother had given him the day before. Why? Why wasn't she happy? Why was she afraid instead? You bastard, what have you done to her?!

Amid this violent surge of emotion, the Emperor's beguiling aura had the opposite effect. Even if he was my father, even if I had no chance of winning...

He recalled every moment of the past few days: their meeting in the wilderness, her lessons in the workshop, the way she had nervously feared being rejected, and the delight she'd shown when he called her mother. Her maternal love had soothed the knots in Perturabo's heart.

"Ah! Mother!!! I'll never let you cry again!" Perturabo roared inside his mind.

The moment he arrived on Olympia, the Emperor had noticed something strange about Hogg. Two years ago, when he'd left, Hogg had been a rowdy boy. How had he turned into a woman by the time they met again?

Perhaps a quirk from his past life had resurfaced. After all, he had once secretly tried on women's clothes in his room. The Emperor didn't think anything was amiss, so he didn't look into it further.

Every footstep pounded at Hogg's heart. The thrill of doing something utterly suicidal kept needling him. If doing something crazy is just about pleasing others, then it's meaningless. Fuck it! I'm doing it.

Just as Perturabo was about to confront the Emperor, he saw his mother smile at him and wave. Then she said, "Darling! You're here."

Smack! A golden psychic slap sent that figure tumbling to the ground.

Perturabo froze for a moment. Then a savage fury surged through him.

"Emperor!! You deserve to die!!!! How dare you hit my mother!"

Before the words had even left his mouth, the Primarch's enormous form lunged forward. His rage-filled fist slammed toward the Emperor's head, and a burst of golden psychic energy sent everyone flying back.

One punch followed another. His tangible fury scorched the ground, but the Emperor, Master of Mankind, was no pretender. In the blink of an eye, the two had traded a hundred blows. Their immense power shattered the paving stones and sent rubble flying into the distance. The plaza lay in ruins, as if it had been bombed by fighter planes.

Under their assault, steel and stone alike crumpled like scraps of paper.

But in the end, the old fox had the advantage. After Perturabo's outburst had demolished half the palace, the Emperor finally brought him down and pinned him to the ground.

"Let go of me, you coward! You actually hit my mother! You deserve to die!" Perturabo roared hoarsely.

"Your mother? My child, are you sure she's your mother? You've been deceived. Hogg Menethil is my eleventh son, your younger brother." Golden psychic energy flowed directly into the mind of the rebellious son beneath his feet. The Emperor read his memories, then sent him Hogg's information.

Perturabo stopped struggling. His features twisted rapidly, and the Emperor released him. Two pairs of eyes searched the area for their target. Soon, they spotted a figure squirming toward the edge of the plaza.

The thunder of battle around them fell silent. As if sensing the murderous intent, Hogg stopped squirming and tried to make himself less noticeable. But a golden-armored hand soon grabbed him and hoisted him up. Suspended in the air, Hogg was stared down by two pairs of murderous eyes.

"Gulp!! Fourth Brother, can we make peace?"

Still wearing Martha's face, Hogg was weeping. His affected, pitiful act made him look like a corgi that had done something wrong. "Pepe! You said you wouldn't make me cry! Pepe."

Dead silence filled Perturabo's heart. It seemed nothing could sway his judgment anymore. With the sun behind him, a shadow shrouded his face, and an unsettling voice came from beneath his dark expression.

"Father, do you mind?"

"Do as you like. He's tough. You can hardly kill him."

The many Space Marines watching had all undergone nineteen surgeries and become little Supermen. Yet they all silently switched off their Power Armor's sensors and closed their eyes. After all, watching their father get beaten up—or watching him get toyed with like a dog—wasn't something sons should do.

"I warned Father against doing this a long time ago," Lyla Lynn thought silently.

The sharp crack of blows rang out, and anguished screams echoed through everyone's minds.

To this day, we still don't know what happened that day. Every mortal present underwent memory-wiping surgery, half the royal city was reduced to rubble, and the Primarch of the Eleventh Legion, Blackwatch, was scraped off the ground and taken back to the Blacklight for recuperation.

Ten thousand years later, the incident had become a legend. When a Keeper of Secrets investigated the truth and appeared before the Fourth Legion in the form of a silver-haired woman, Perturabo tore it apart in a fit of rage, banished it into the Warp, and hunted it for nearly a century.

In a hidden chamber aboard the Bucephalus

The bare walls held only one crude decoration: a wooden wall clock. Its pendulum swung back and forth, and a chessboard lay between the two of them.

"Fourth Brother, you'll be coming back to Terra with me." The Emperor picked up a chess piece engraved with a metal fortress and placed it near the front of the board.

"Cough! Cough!" A cough rang out. The Emperor thought for a moment, then put the piece back where it had been.

"How sure are you, Neoth?" Hogg asked from where he lounged in his chair.

"...I don't know. No one can guarantee which way the future will go." He took out a black monster-shaped chess piece and tossed it toward his disappointing son.

"And Fourth Brother? Honestly, I'd like to crack open your head and see how little emotional intelligence you have. Your sons may possess extraordinary power, but they're still human. They feel emotions even more strongly than ordinary mortals. You could at least have humored them. So many conflicts could've been avoided with a single sentence, but you didn't even do that."

"Once the Great Crusade is complete, everything will be fine," the Emperor insisted stubbornly.

"Even after seeing your memories, I still can't fully glimpse the future. The information about what lies ahead in your memories is a jumble to me."

Turning the monster-shaped chess piece over in his hand, Hogg considered it, then placed it on the board. As if drawn by the twisted darkness on the board, Hogg's crusade began.