Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 339 Gavial Loken

"And who is this person?"

The Primarch shifted his gaze from Abaddon and looked down at the other warrior kneeling on the ground.

His face was very pale, his features were thin and bony, he had short blond hair, his eyes were an unusual gray-black, his nose was high and straight, and there were messy freckles on the sides of his cheeks.

Saint Gilles quickly flipped through his memories, but this warrior was not among the "Four Kings Council" of Shadowmoon Wolf.

The Council of the Four Kings was a royal court established by Horus Lupecal, consisting of four members he trusted deeply.

In this council, Space Marines are not ranked; they are treated as equals and work together to assist the Father of Genesis.

Members of the council wield immense power, not only providing direct advice to the Primarch but also daring to offer remonstrances and point out the Primarch's errors and shortcomings.

This is an honor, a responsibility, and an act of honesty.

Despite his greatness and the numerous halos surrounding him, Horus remained humble, never acting arbitrarily or arbitrarily, and was willing to listen to the opinions of his offspring.

The Council of the Four Kings embodies the Primarch's exceptional wisdom; even bathed in glory, the Primarch remains humble.

“Gavial Locken.” Abaddon announced his brother’s name, his sharp eyes softening, his words revealing pride and recognition: “From the 10th Company of the Legion, he is a role model for many brothers.”

Loken remained silent, his head bowed even lower, showing the utmost respect to the Primarch.

“I see.” Saint Gilles nodded gently, his long golden hair swaying. After understanding, he murmured, “Get up.”

The holographic image swayed, and the two Space Marines slowly stood up, looking directly at the Primarch's face once more, marveling at its magnificent beauty.

Of the originals that have returned, the Purple Phoenix—Forgrim—is the most beautiful, her radiant charm irresistible, instantly captivating the senses, and mortals are unable to resist her allure at first glance.

The original genetic material before them possessed a beauty that carried an inhuman quality.

He seemed not to be made of flesh and blood, but rather sculpted from light and marble. He sat on his throne, seemingly enveloped by an unseen halo that accentuated his flawless perfection.

When will my brother finish his work?

Saint Gilles slowly opened his mouth, his clear voice like the strings of heaven, playing a beautiful and gentle melody that soothed the soul and healed wounds.

Abaddon and Locke almost knelt down again, straightening their bodies to avoid losing their composure.

“You may have to wait a while,” said Company Commander Loken, his voice slightly dry, like split firewood: “The Father of Genetics is not rude; he is making peace with his fellow humans beneath the ice cap of the frozen world.”

Upon hearing the reply, Saint Gilles raised his eyes slightly and slowly rose from his throne.

The two people in the holographic image had their pupils gradually dilate, their eyes trembling with shock, unable to believe what they were seeing.

They had assumed that the vivid white wings beside the throne were some kind of decoration, never imagining that the Primarch possessed a pair of wings capable of flight.

Despite being speechless with amazement, the two looked away in shock.

Without a doubt, the original form's current image is like an angel from mythology, delivering a powerful elbow strike to "Imperial Truth".

Physical mutation, religious symbolism, and attraction to worship.

But they dared not reveal their inner doubts to others, because the emperor had acknowledged the angels.

"Take me over." Saint Gilles naturally sensed the complicated gazes, but he didn't care and indicated that he would board the Soul of Vengeance.

“This is against etiquette!” Abaddon was about to reply when Loken stopped him, saying, “My lord, you are the blood brother of the Father of Genetics, how dare we overstep our bounds?”

From his interrupted anger to his brother's explanation, Abaddon felt a chill run down his spine and broke out in a cold sweat.

If it weren't for Loken's timely reminder, he would have already made a serious mistake.

Regardless of their identity, the Astartes, despite being the undisputed favorite of the Father of Genesis, could not be compared to the other Primarch in status.

Genetic offspring are endless, but blood brothers are only twenty!

The original plan was for Horus to personally greet his brother, but this was delayed due to negotiations.

In the event of such an unexpected situation, the two Primarchs would wait for each other to prepare before holding the welcoming ceremony.

“It’s alright.” Saint Gillis’s simple two words reassured the trembling Abaddon, and he said to Loken, “I can’t wait to visit my brother’s honor ship.”

The Primarch's words are commands, and although he is not the Father of Genesis, the Space Marines cannot refuse them.

“Yes, we await your arrival.” Loken’s gaunt face was serious as he obeyed the Primarch’s orders.

The Primarch's insistence at least gave them some closure; they wouldn't be punished by the Fathers of Genesis for the unequal ritual. Sanguires returned the smile, and as the Primarch stepped off the bridge, the hologram deactivated.

"You'll receive the Primarch later." After the communication ended, Abaddon let out a long sigh of relief. Even as a virtual projection, the Primarch's every move exuded an aura that made the Extraordinary Warriors breathless.

Loken nodded silently, accepting the task, and strode towards the elevator, heading to the helipad deck to welcome the Primarch's arrival.

His gaze swept across Abaddon's face, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes.

In combat, the company commander was extremely astute, possessing great strategic vision and wisdom, but somewhat oblivious to matters of interpersonal relationships and politics.

The most suitable person for this job is Cygnus; that brother has considerable political talent and can cater to the Primarch from the right angle.

However, it was precisely because of this talent that he followed the Wolf God to the surface of the earth and, as a representative of the legion, negotiated a merger with the Lost World.

Perhaps it's not dullness, but rather a lack of reverence in one's subconscious.

In Abaddon's heart, the respect for Horus, the father of genes, was even greater than that for the Lord of Mankind.

They outwardly show awe towards other Primarchs, but inwardly they lack true respect.

This distorted arrogance originates from Horus.

Out of Abaddon's sight, Loken shook his head imperceptibly, sighed inwardly, and felt somewhat at a loss.

As the Great Expedition progressed and the Legion's honors increased, the brothers grew increasingly arrogant and conceited under the influence of the Father of Genetics.

The ambition inherited from the genetic seed is changing the legion.

With the intervention of the Warrior King, the Legion lost the Nineteenth Legion, which was thought to be the beginning of glory, but instead caused Loken great concern.

The Legion has found a new "Grey Claw"—a mortal support army.

Compared to their Legion cousins, the new Greyclaws are cheaper, more obedient, and less guilt-inducing to use.

As Loken walked side by side with Abaddon, a complex mix of emotions welled up inside him.

Why did the father of genetics use gray claws?

The answer is obvious: he cherishes his genetic offspring and will not hesitate to use the lives of others to protect their lives.

What saddened Loken the most was that the ultimate beneficiaries of the Grey Talon tactics were not only the Legion brothers, but also himself!
In any case, this is an undeniable fact!

He had long been aware of this problem and knew clearly that he, as a member of the 10th Company, had little influence.

Therefore, he must become a benchmark and an example, and enter the Council of the Four Kings to speak to the Father of Genetics and his brothers, reminding them not to forget why they embarked on the Great Crusade!

The legion once stood tall and proud before the emperor, how spirited they were!

They swore an oath to the Lord of Mankind to save humanity and embarked on a journey to banish the Old Night!
Do not use other people's lives recklessly in the name of sacrifice!
"Brother, what's wrong?" Abaddon asked quickly when he saw that Lockken seemed lost in thought and even a little absent-minded.

The Primarch is about to arrive; at such a crucial moment, we absolutely cannot afford any problems.

"It's nothing," Locke replied, snapping out of his reverie. He quickly regrouped and focused his attention on the present moment.

On the deck of the helipad, Gastrin Terminator warriors stood tall and solemn, their armor reflecting a ghostly light, raising their banners and standing on both sides of the red carpet to welcome the Primarch.

Fortunately, the procession was prepared before the father of genetics passed away, so there was no rush or loss of etiquette.

Loken stood tall, stepped onto the carpet, which was redder than blood, and strode forward to greet the Primarch.

Because of the disparity in their status, he dared not wait at the end of the red carpet. When he saw the shuttle arrive, he hurriedly went to greet it.

As the engine slowly shut off, Loken and Abaddon knelt on one knee to welcome the Primarch's arrival as the Spirit of Vengeance.

puff~
The airlock door opened, and a tall figure in a long robe slowly walked out of the cabin. The cabin light cast a long, winged shadow behind him.

Wow~
Gastrin also knelt on one knee, their heavy knees slamming to the ground, heads bowed, their solemnity comparable to that of ancient knights.

Loken squinted slightly in the glaring light, his gray eyes widening as he eagerly awaited the arrival of the angel.

Will this Primarch, who was ordered to learn Legion warfare, be able to bring about some changes to the Father of Genesis and the Legion?

After all, he was too dazzling; beneath his brilliance, filth had nowhere to hide.

(Author's Note)

(End of this chapter)