"...to create a... brand-new, bright future."
Alcato, the captain of the Imperial Fists, remained standing, his granite-sculpted face etched with fierce inner conflict. He was a typical Imperial Fist. His world consisted of duty, honour, and the Codex, starkly black and white, without room for a trace of gray.
And Horus, in a way he could not understand yet somehow could not refute, was forcibly painting a layer of... gray over his black-and-white world.
"I cannot accept this," he finally said, his voice hoarse and stubborn. "Rebuilding the Traitor Legions, whatever the reason, is... forgiveness for their crimes. And betrayal is the one unforgivable sin."
"Then what of Brother Letorion and his Phoenix Guard?" a gentle, resonant voice asked.
It was the captain of the Salamanders, a giant whose eyes glowed with the warmth of molten lava. He looked at the captain of the Emperor's Children, whose body was trembling slightly.
"They, too, bear the name 'Emperor's Children.' Their genes, too, come from that fallen 'Phoenix.' By your logic, should they also be regarded as 'Cursed Ones'?"
Alcato's lips moved, but no words came out.
Letorion slowly raised his head. His eyes, once filled with grief, anger, and despair, now flickered with a flame of... gratitude at the Salamanders captain's words.
"We... are loyal," he said, each word deliberate. His voice was quiet, but filled with unquestionable resolve.
"That's right," the Space Wolf agreed in his gruff voice. "We judge the man, not the banner. I respect Letorion as a good man, and that's enough. As for what sort of bastard his old man is, what the hell's that got to do with me?"
"Confused logic, correct conclusion," came the assessment of the Raven Guard captain, who had remained silent in the shadows until now.
"You..." Alcato looked at these