Fulgrim set aside all his pride and sank smoothly, reverently, onto one knee.
He felt the hard, cold floor through the gaps in his armor, reminding him that this moment was real.
He lowered his head slightly, yet his gaze strayed involuntarily toward the towering figure before him.
Here was a man whose perfection defied words, like a living god descended into the mortal world.
Unparalleled power and majesty wreathed him like a halo, inspiring both awe and reassurance.
From that very first glimpse, Fulgrim felt his soul tremble as complete, willing submission washed over him.
He had never imagined that anyone in this world could be so worthy of everything he had to give.
A gentle yet powerful voice sounded in his ears, like the most harmonious of melodies.
"Rise, my child."
Warmth filled that voice, dispelling the last trace of tension in his heart.
The man's gaze seemed to see through everything, and it was filled with gratification.
"I am delighted to see how well you have governed Chemos."
That affirmation seeped into Fulgrim's heart like the sweetest nectar.
"You have made me very proud."
At those words of praise, Fulgrim felt a fulfillment and glory unlike anything he had ever known.
He obediently rose, every movement precisely calculated, as graceful as a work of art.
Once upright, he immediately bowed deeply with impeccable poise, executing a perfect courtly salute.
His bearing was humble, yet his own nobility shone through naturally.
"All credit belongs to you, Father."
Fulgrim's voice brimmed with sincere reverence, without a trace of pretense.
Fulgrim looked at his sons.
They had suffered terribly. Though the Third Legion had been among the first founded, the "Blight" unleashed by Luna's gene-cults had left them with fewer than two hundred men.
Fulgrim gently knelt on one