[hider=The Blade of Sol]

During the early transition into the third day of the Council of Nikea, before the reconvening of the Primarchs and other officials to discuss the Edict of Tolerance, the form of Usriel snuck, Belloris having helped urge him forwards, into the main chamber. Granted, it was more of the Primarch entering the chamber door as silently as he could, not because he was attempting to, but because his nerves forced him to. His eyes saw them, the Sigillite and then, the Emperor, the Omnissiah, in all his resplendent glory and it was in the moment the Usriel temporarily froze as he actually felt his nerves coming to his mind. It was a feeling that he had not felt in millenia, certainly not when he had first met the Emperor upon the forge world of Vion 5, but there he was in his glory. 

Usriel took in a breath and stepped forwards, his hands wrapped around the gift that he had prepared for his creator, having been swayed by Daena’s words to try and move forwards to embrace this new family. The Nineteenth son made his presence known addressing the Emperor, not nothing to acknowledge Malcador as he approached. Going as far as he felt was comfortable, Usriel knelt before the Master of Mankind, keeping his head low as he spoke in a tone that hid his nervousness of the situation.

“My Emperor, I have come to see your presence and to bring to you a gift.”

‘And a lovely day to you too, Usriel,’ Malcador stated first, offering more of an upturned grimace than a true smile. He’d avoid taking the slight personally - Usriel was, after all, known to be this way around humans in general. Any shift of that character would demand time Malcador didn’t necessarily have to hand; speaking of which, he returned to instructing a subordinate of his on a matter that he reckoned need not reach Usriel’s ears.

The Emperor, in contrast, smiled more warmly toward his son. ‘A lovely day, indeed,’ he agreed, standing to walk steadily toward Usriel, a glow of contentment emanating from him and washing over the Nineteenth Son, soothing his nerves even as it projected His power. ‘Pray tell, Usriel, what have you brought me this day?’

The Primarch looked up to the Emperor, the red gaze of his helm meeting his creator’s own as he held up what looked to merely be the hilt of a weapon, large enough for the Emperor to wield it in one hand. It looked to have no blade attached to it, the hilt merely seeming to have a slot to where such a blade would be embedded. Usriel, took in another breath before he replied, “It is a project that I had been working upon for some time, Emperor. A weapon that I believe now is worthy enough to grace your omnipotence, lord.”

Usriel adjusted his grip so that the slot the air, away from any others and with a simple flick of his thumb a resplendent light came from the slot. It ended to form the missing blade, a bright and burning yellow just as was Terra’s own sun. The Primarch allowed the light to reflect across the chamber for a few moments before he flicked his thumb again and the plasma withdrew to the inside of the hilt. Almost expectantly, he shifted ever since impatiently in place, his gaze nor stance unmoving from his kneeling posture.

Magnanimously, the Emperor took the weapon from Usriel, his hand curving around the hilt, and showing a hint of surprise at its perfect fit. In turn, he flicked the switch Usriel had, and admired the glow of the plasma blade that projected from its core and the roar of its internal fusion engine. A test swing cut the air, and then a second, and then the blade was turned off even as the Emperor offered a smile to Usriel.

‘You have done well in making this weapon, Usriel,’ he uttered smoothly, nodding to the Primarch. ‘Rest assured, its craftsmanship shall not go to waste.’

“Your words bring me much satisfaction, Emperor,” Usriel said in response, his voice remaining unchanged as he rose from his kneeling position to return to his full height. The Primarch’s helmeted gaze went away from his master, hesitation overcoming himself before he broke his silence again, his words not reflecting what he truly wanted to say, “I trust you of all beings to use it to its fullest potential.”

‘Of course, my son,’ he agreed with a nod, before tilting his head just so. ‘I see that you have more you wish to say. Worry yourself not; there will be much time to say what you wish once our duties are fulfilled, the galaxy is in humanity’s control, and we can lay down our weapons for once and for all.’

“Lay down our weapons…” the son echoed, his mind clearly not being soothed but the words of the Emperor despite his attempts to do so. The Primarch looked to Malcador before speaking once more, “If the galaxy is to be under humanity’s control…” 

He hesitated, thinking of the words to say before his gaze returned to the Emperor, slowly. Usriel spoke once more, speaking clearly, “There will always be rebels, my lord. So long as there are those with treachery in their hearts, I fear we will never be able to truly lay our weapons down forever.”

With but a moment of thought, the Emperor’s response came. ‘It need not be those who once wielded the weapons that take them up again,’ he explained. ‘For as long as loyalty overshadows treachery- and it will- there will be those who are pleased to protect what they hold dear, and will do so gladly long before we ever need touch a bolter or raise a chainsword against those who would threaten the Imperium.’

“Then what would be the need of the Astartes, my sons, the sons and daughters and my peers? I have seen humanity swayed by the likes of Drukhari and base desire, Lord. If the Astartes are to lay down their weapons what would stop these massive rebellions that even currently threaten the Imperium as is?” Usriel questioned, his mind twisting over the possible outcomes. He shook his head, “The mortals cannot help themselves but to try and claim their own freedom and power, even if it means to look away from your grace.”

‘Indeed.’ The Emperor looked over Usriel for a moment, before Malcador’s attention returned to Usriel, his orders given and the servant having walked off.

‘Usriel, you need not be concerned about what comes after the galaxy is united,’ Malcador suggested softly. Looking to the Emperor to ensure he was not overstepping, he continued by saying ‘The Astartes will have their lives to live too, and likely their own desires to fulfil as they wish. If they seek to continue protecting, then that will be allowed to them. If not, then that will also be an option they have. Bear in mind, too, that a united galaxy under the Imperium will be rid of xenos who would work against us, Drukhari included. Rebellion is harder without one who wishes to incite it.’

“I disagree, mortal,” Usriel said quickly, his red gaze turning to Malcador, “It is in your kind’s blood to rebel, to live their own lives without the guidance of the Emperor or I. Make no mistake, I do not accuse you of treachery as the Emperor’s right hand, after all my Orator of the House is a mortal, but you cannot deny it does not take much to incite such violence and while it may be harder without outside forces I have seen them deny the Will of the Emperor and the Primarchs countless times. Without the Astartes as the bulwark that they are, they’d have little to fear if they chose a path outside a united galaxy.”

Malcador nodded, even as the Emperor’s own expression grew ever so slightly perturbed. ‘Usriel, remember that you are [i]both[/i] valuable to my Imperium,’ the Emperor warned, his tone marginally less warm than it had been previously. ‘And know this, too: a conqueror incites fear to keep his subjects in line, and that is the role we must unfortunately take for now. Yet, once the conquering is done, it will be a desire to remain that keeps them bound. Loyalty to proper leadership - a leader who they can be sure will not abandon them, so long as they do not abandon me.’

“And yet that is what the mortals do, Emperor. The Governor at Atis, a leader to a many people, turned his back upon the Imperium and my sons paid heavily for his deception. The Mechanicum, so transfixed upon the words of Mars that they claim to be yours, have led to disregard to orders and allowed for the rebels to bring an entire Spire down upon me at Inrade. My sons have faced the mortals who would even look to the xenos as their masters…” Usriel spoke, his voice becoming his normal cold tone as he looked to the Emperor. “You are infallible, Lord, but the mortals, the chattel, are far from what you could see them to be. Your will is my will and I shall see it done, but I cannot trust a great many of them to lead themselves for what they have done to me and my sons. Even as we speak now, I guarantee worlds plot their schemes against you and this Imperium.”

‘Usriel,’ Malcador interrupted, ‘perhaps it is best that you trust in the Emperor. As you say, he is infallible - and therefore, he has a plan for these things, does he not?’ In response, the Emperor nodded, apparently confirming as much about himself.

‘Rest assured, my son,’ he continued, returning to the warmer tone he’d been using until moments ago, ‘any rebelliousness after the galaxy’s unification will be quenched. With that in mind, I must return to my work - and I believe you must too, for there remains much to be done for all of us.’ A final wave of his hand would do to dismiss the Primarch from his father’s presence.

Usriel bowed to the Emperor, stating in a disappointed, “As you wish, most revered Omnissiah. I hope that your weapon will continue your will.” With such words spoken, the Primarch turned his back upon the Emperor and Malcador, marching out of the chamber in a quick stride.

As the Primarch left the chambers of the Orator of the Sentinels stood waiting, but Usriel did not stop for Belloris and continued to march past her as he made his way away from the area. Belloris had to jog after the Nineteenth Son to keep up with his stride, though it was of little exertion on her part as she did so.

“Lord, was the Emperor pleased by your gift?” the serf asked.

“Yes,” Usriel answered simply.

“Then why is it that you seem irate, Lord?” she questioned.

“That is none of your concern, mortal” he answered back.

“I would say it is of my concern, Usriel. You confide in me less than I would like and more than you’d imagine. Speak, Lord, for am I not your chosen speaker of the house? Am I not the first amongst equals within the Legion, Lord?” Belloris questioned in an eloquent fashion that made the Primarch’s head turn to her, a sign of brief acknowledgment before returning his gaze forwards. 

A sigh came from Usriel before he spoke, “I do not understand what his grace sees in your kind, Belloris.”

The serf cocked her head, “In my kind, Lord?”

“Humans,” Usriel clarified in a disappointed tone, “Many of your kind have this incorruptible will of self-determination, a determination that often leads many to a false path and one away from the light of the Emperor. With each rebellion I must quash, with every body felled upon the field of battle, I see many then repent despite having gone from his grace to begin with. Nodis can see what lies within them all, yet I cannot for all I can see are traitors.”

Belloris allowed a moment to pass, “Do you even view me to be a potential traitor?”

“Yes,” the Primarch answered.

“Usriel…” Belloris said, looking hurt by the statement, “So long as I may live, my loyalty is to you and I would die ten thousand times over to stay with you. There is not a single thought in my mind that would lead me away from you, not a very fiber that does not yearn to stay with you for every moment. There is no order, no request, no desire of yours I would not fulfill to my dying breath. Know this, Usriel Andreadth, Father of the Steel Sentinels, Great Wall of Imperium, Most Revered of Primarchs, I shan’t abandon my post and know that I shall remain dutifully at your side as you fulfill this crusade of the Emperor’s. Even if you should doubt how the Emperor views you, you shall always remain the center of my mind.”

The primarch continued to gaze forwards, but his tongue was stilled by the words of the serf, unable to formulate a true response. So, the two walked away from the Emperor in silence.

[/hider]