An Eye for the Future

"I'm glad we have this chance," Alexandros said as he took his seat. "We haven't been able to spend as much time together since the Conclave."

Araphel nodded, "Indeed." The two brothers enjoyed a rare moment of quiet solitude within Araphel's personal quarters above his flagship, the *Titan's Gaol*. It had been four days since the conclusion of the Maelynos Compliance. After working nonstop for the last 96 hours, Alexandros had insisted on a few hours to spend with his older brother. Koschei was due to join them in a few hours.

The High Regent's eyes flitted over the decorum. One of the clearest ways he had always been able to distinguish the living quarters of a mortal and a Primarch, besides the obvious size difference in furniture, was in decorum. As much as he struggled against it, Alexandros recognized that he and his brothers simply did not experience reality the same way humans did. A first glance might suggest otherwise, but a longer look would reveal the truth of it.

One aspect had always struck Alexandros. The bed. Humanity, no matter how many aeons had passed since the first ones of their species, had craved a suitable amount of comfort when it was time to retire. Not so for Primarchs. Sleep was not the constant companion for everyone else but more akin to a distant friend. This estranged relationship always manifested itself in either a plain bed, if the Primarch in question even bothered with any kind of matress, or nothing at all. Alexandros could recall how a few of his brothers would simply sit down for half an hour and have all the energy they require for a week.

Araphel fell in that category.

"I've actually wanted to speak to you, High Regent," Araphel stated as he leaned his long, slender form into his own seat.

Alexandros hid a wince at the overly formal address. "You can still call me Alex, Phel," he reminded gently.

There was an unwelcome pause as Araphel's sharp, blue eyes gazed at nothing before he nodded. "It's...been some time."

"Not too long, I hope." Alex's tone had been light, but he hadn't hidden the subtle undertone of concern either.

Araphel considered for a moment. "Time, I suppose, is relative."

"Phel," Alexandros began. "Time is relative, and we have precious little of it remaining to us. I would have you speak your mind directly instead of falling back on old habits."

The Colossus frowned but yielded with a nod. "You are right, Alex." The decision made, Araphel turned his suspicious eyes upon his Regent. "I hold deep reservations over Lukas' censure."

Alexandros quirked an eyebrow. He had not been aware of any close relationship between the Colossus and the Lord of Obsidian, which meant this was unlikely a personal issue but a political one. "What details are you aware of?"

"The Mechanicum discovered he had violated a portion of the Mons Treaty. You forced him to answer a summons to the Council of Terra. There, you inflicted a heavy penalty of twenty percent of his domain's materials and product were to be sent to the Mechanicum. Not stopping there, he is to campaign at Mars' beck and call for a time. Finally, the Mechanicum will reap a toll from the Guard itself, more supplicants to serve at their forge-fanes and be guardians of Mars."

"That last part is inaccurate," Alexandros replied calmly. "You and I have known for decades Lukas has disparaged Martian techniques of instruction on technology. He is no longer allowed to ignore their teachings anymore."

"And the rest?" Araphel pressed with more than a hint of bite. "We answer to the Emperor, not to the Lord of Mars. He has no authority over us."

"We answer to Father and honour his commitments, including his treaty to Mars," Alexandros countered. "Are you aware of the depth of Lukas' violation?"

"Experimenting with alien technology."

"For the third time," Alexandros added. "This time, he had created a working prototype, unlike the previous violations which were no more than theoretical treatises."

That brought Araphel to a pause. Yet, Alexandros could sense the lingering frustration. "I know you've never held any love for the Mechanicum, Phel, but this vexation does not seem like you. Normally, I can count on your pragmatism to see the consequences."

Araphel sighed as he leaned back in his seat, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Alexandros noted the half-hidden attempts to keep his eyes fixed, which could only mean the feathery demons were at work on his brother's mind. "Everything is so different now, Alex. It's been three years since Father disappeared, and not even a hint of his whereabouts from the Reclamation Command. The Imperium's internal enemies have been brought to heel militarily, but there is something growing beneath the obedient words. No one can truly replace the Emperor as the Imperium's master, and the longer we attempt to pretend otherwise, the more danger we risk to all. I fear Hal will grow bolder. It will not stop at enforcing the treaty. He will crave more. His defeat at the Conclave will only be a temporary setback to his ambition, no matter how much he argues that it's nothing more than Martian logic. How long will he wait, until he concludes the Emperor will never return? A century? A score? A decade?"

Araphel swivelled his gaze back to Alexandros. "We smash rebellions because we are secure in the loyalty of our Legions, the numbers of the Imperial Army, and the support of the Martian Priesthood. So long as we command all three, especially the Legions, the Imperium will hold. But if any of the three pillars cracks, if Hal ever suspects our Brotherhood will not remain unified, it will be a dark day for us all."