A Conversation

"So."

A calm voice rang out: "Our new brother hasn't even managed to unify the world he landed on?"

The speaker had a face like a monolith; he was a giant, that much was certain. His short, ash-gray hair complemented his expressionless face as he spoke, almost enough to make one overlook his handsomeness.

"Please, Rogal, even I took fifty years to unify Chemos."

Another giant at the long table spoke up, his brow furrowing slightly. Long, silver-white hair cascaded over his shoulders, seemingly shimmering—a defiance of common sense that few would care to notice.

After all, he was breathtakingly beautiful, enough to overshadow both his precious locks and the luxurious white-and-purple silk robe he wore.

Compared to the man himself, these two treasures were mere accessories.

The beautiful giant said: "You must understand, Rogal, Father said he is only a year and a half old. How is a toddler supposed to unify the world he landed on? He is likely still finding his footing!"

"That means nothing."

The giant previously addressed as Rogal replied in a stern tone. "He does not yet understand the responsibilities he must shoulder, but we do. Age is no excuse; you should know this, Fulgrim. You knew of our duties long before I did."

"But he's only a year and a half old!"

Fulgrim pursed his lips, appearing somewhat displeased, though not because of the argument with his brother.

"And another thing! At least call me Fulgrim; do you expect me to call you Dorn?"

"I have no objection." Rogal—or Dorn—replied slowly.

He stared ahead, though not at Fulgrim.

Their conversation caused a third giant at the long table to chuckle. Compared to his brothers, his appearance was far more peculiar. His skin was golden, with thousands of golden symbols etched across its surface, creating a wondrous sight.

He smiled, nodding with a gentle gaze. He wore a robe, his hands resting neatly on the table, a thick tome lying quietly by his side.

"You have no objections again."

The handsome Fulgrim crossed his arms and made a face, though his voice remained gentle. "However, I quite agree with your point about responsibility."

He turned his head and asked another brother affectionately: "What about you, Lorgar?"

"I wish to reserve my opinion." The golden giant known as Lorgar shrugged. "I would rather not voice them before Ferrus arrives."

"You're doing that again?" Rogal Dorn remarked out of the blue.

"Father is always like that, too." Lorgar said with a smile. "Father always expresses his meaning only after we have all finished speaking, does he not?"

He said this with such sincerity that the expressionless Rogal Dorn did not know how to respond. He could only frown and turn his attention back to Fulgrim.

"Why is Ferrus late again?"

"Why ask me?"

"You are on the best terms with him." Rogal Dorn said.

He spoke without a hint of hesitation, as if merely stating a fact.

Fulgrim widened his eyes, showing clear surprise at his words: "Rogal, my brother, I love you all—"

"—Especially Ferrus." Rogal Dorn said expressionlessly. "Do not misunderstand, I am merely stating the facts."

Fulgrim looked helplessly at Lorgar.

"Ahem."

The golden giant coughed lightly and said: "It is like this, Fulgrim. That nickname you gave Ferrus is likely one we should not use, or he will be very displeased."

He began to laugh slowly: "I am quite certain of this."

"So, has today's meeting become an intervention for me?" Fulgrim said indignantly. "I thought we were here to discuss our new brother."

"We are certainly going to discuss him, but not while Ferrus Manus is absent."

Rogal Dorn stood up. Unlike his brothers, he did not wear a comfortable robe; he wore a gray-blue long-sleeved tunic, sparsely outlined with gold thread—very simple, yet certainly not lacking in detail.

In a way, this attire revealed a part of his character.

"Where are you going?" Fulgrim asked.

"Not to fetch him; that is your privilege. I am simply standing up to stretch." Rogal Dorn said. "Also, Fulg—"

"—Fulgrim."

".Fulgrim, do you truly not know why Ferrus has been frequently absent from meetings lately?"

"Meetings where Father is not present." Fulgrim said. "Strictly speaking, this is just us chatting."

Lorgar's laughter rang out in the room. "Your favoritism is too obvious, brother!"

".What is wrong with you two today?"

The giant in the silk robe stood up, slightly annoyed, and walked to the door in three strides: "Why must you always make me the butt of the joke? Fine, I will go get him!"

He opened the door and left shortly after. The room was quiet for a moment, and Lorgar prevented the silence from spreading further.

"Rogal."

"Yes?"

"Ferrus has likely been busy sketching out a weapon, which is why he is always late."

The golden giant said with a smile. "I saw it on his desk when I went to find him last time. By the Emperor, his desk is truly a mess."

"A weapon?"

Rogal Dorn responded with his signature expression—he frowned, a deep, heavy frown.

"A weapon?" he repeated. "He is crafting a weapon aboard The Emperor's Dream?"

Lorgar blinked, realizing his brother's reaction was entirely different from what he had expected, and hurriedly explained: "Rogal—"

"—under the Emperor's very eyes?"

The crease between Rogal Dorn's brows deepened further. He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the tabletop, and stared at Lorgar in silence for a long moment.

The latter blinked, resting his right hand upon a thick tome.

Half a minute later, Rogal Dorn said, "Very well, I believe I can guess who that weapon is intended for."

"Eh?" Lorgar let out a short, startled sound.

His brother did not answer, merely shaking his head without further reaction. Five minutes later, the sound of two sets of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside.

Fulgrim pushed the door open with a smile: "I have brought him!"

Behind him, a giant with silver hands stepped inside.

He had short black hair, and his features were not as perfect as Fulgrim's—in truth, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to possess beauty on the same level as Fulgrim.

Yet, this did not mean he was ugly; in fact, he looked like a piece of hand-forged steel armor. That beauty was entirely different from Fulgrim's.

"My apologies," the giant said, his voice low but not distant. "I have been busy lately."

"Father did not assign you any tasks, Ferrus."

"You call him Ferrus now? Why don't you call me Fulgrim?"

Fulgrim raised an eyebrow, interjecting before laughing before Rogal Dorn could speak. He pulled Ferrus to sit at the long table. Seeing this, Rogal Dorn fell silent for a moment before sitting down as well.

"In any case, let us discuss our new brother," he said. "Konrad Curze—that is the name Father gave him."

"Did the Father's guards tell you that?" Fulgrim asked.

"No, I asked him myself."

Lorgar widened his eyes: "But he hasn't spoken to any of us for three days!"

"I asked him three days ago."

"I see." The golden giant nodded reluctantly, and Fulgrim gave him a comforting pat.

"What is there to discuss?" Ferrus Manus, with his silver hands, remarked. "He is a child of one and a half years; it is only natural that he has not yet unified the world he landed upon."

"But he is one of our brothers."

Rogal Dorn said sternly. "This means we must hold him to a more rigorous standard; we cannot overlook these things simply because of his age."

"Ahem, Rogal, please allow me a word—" Fulgrim gestured, his expression turning somewhat serious. "—if you would permit it."

"You do not need to seek my permission," Rogal Dorn said. "You are Fulgrim."

"Call me Fulgrim, thank you."

"Fulgrim."

"Right—anyway, I still believe it is unfair to discuss his endeavors while setting aside his age."

Fulgrim waved his arm emphatically to make his point more persuasive.

"It took me fifty years to bring peace and unity to Chemos, and that was with the premise that the people of Chemos were relatively friendly. If you seek further evidence, you yourself are one of the best examples. Rogal, what were you doing at a year and a half old?"

"...I was learning." Rogal Dorn replied reluctantly.

He could not refuse to answer, or he would be contradicting himself.

"Exactly. Even Rogal Dorn—one of the most accomplished brothers among us—needed to learn, let alone Konrad Curze, wouldn't you agree?"

Fulgrim sighed and shook his head: "Besides, I truly do not understand why Father gave him that name."

"The implication is not very auspicious; I have studied some Ancient Terra languages."

Lorgar nodded thoughtfully, picking up the thread. "But it is Father's will, after all."

"When we see him, we will naturally understand what kind of person he is," Ferrus Manus said slowly. "Also, Lorgar."

"Yes?"

"Fulgrim said you wanted to save your opinion until after I arrived."

"Ah!"

Lorgar nodded in sudden realization. "Regarding that. Actually, I believe that regardless of anything, we should not be overly harsh toward him. It was Father who guided us to find him, was it not? This voyage had nothing to do with the Navigators."

"And so?"

"And so, no matter what he is like, I will love him, just as Father loves us."

The golden giant said with a smile.