When you had no ties weighing you down, you naturally followed your heart and acted as you pleased.
These Ashen Claws had freed themselves from the burden of humanity's revival and vanished into the dust among the stars. Other than entries in Imperial military records regarding missing supplies, there was no further word of these warriors.
Perhaps Astartes were never meant to be born as mere war machines... Their transformation had already proven that Astartes experienced emotions no differently from mortals... To treat Astartes as nothing but weapons and tools was the greatest injustice to them.
Jaghatai was somewhat restless. He understood these problems, yet had no way to begin changing them. He had witnessed too many infuriating things in the Ghoul Stars. He had thought Lin Fan's stories were horrifying enough, but only when he truly concealed his identity and silently observed from the corners of those worlds did he realize that Lin Fan had already been holding back.
Those horrifying, bloated Imperial worlds disgusted Jaghatai. Standing amid the poor, gaunt crowds at prayer, he looked up at the magnificent statue of The Emperor. He thought that his father would never have wanted things to become like this, yet there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Jaghatai's upright frame looked utterly out of place among the hunched crowd. He looked around and saw fanatical hatred on their faces. That ignorant hatred wounded Jaghatai.
"At least it's better than Chaos... I hope you truly have a plan to stop all this from collapsing." Jaghatai sighed, gently lifted Yilafren from his lap, and placed her on a narrow little bed. With distaste, the Khan wiped the drool from his greaves with a cloth, then sat at the table to sort through the clues he had gathered over the years