Xynis clearly had not expected Zelo to ask such a question.
But recounting his brothers to a Primarch who had only just returned to the Imperium was, in itself, entirely acceptable.
After careful deliberation, Custodian Xynis decided to answer the Primarch’s question in exchange for the Primarch’s cooperation.
Zelo was hard to read; this Primarch seemed temperamental, almost devoid of ordinary human feeling.
He did not wish to provoke the Primarch fully.
If he did, Zelo might stop cooperating with his surveillance.
Xynis had no desire to fail the task given to him by the Master of Mankind.
No, absolutely not.
“Which Lord Primarch would you like to hear about first?” the Custodian asked cautiously.
“Perhaps we could begin with the XII Legion, which you will soon be visiting?” “No.” Unexpectedly, Zelo raised his hand and rejected the Custodian’s suggestion.
On the contrary, he wanted to hear about them last.
That way, after gaining a comprehensive understanding of all his other brothers, Zelo would have no preconceptions interfering with his judgment, and would not misunderstand the Primarch he was about to learn from.
“Please tell me about them one by one, in order.
It would be best to leave the XII Legion for last.” Zelo blinked, his smile widening.
“After all, I want to save the surprise for myself.” A surprise?
Xynis fell silent, recalling the Twelfth Primarch, Angron.
That madman.
A Primarch who should have been destroyed outright.
Angron had even once swung an axe at the Emperor, and had killed several Custodians when he first returned to the Imperium.
Just thinking that he would have to go to the XII Legion because of his surveillance of Zelo left Custodian Xynis with a grim sense of duty.
This would be a shock.
Once Number Eleven, Zelo, realized which Primarch he had been assigned to, how would he react?
Would he be furious at the Master of Mankind?
Resentful?
Ashamed that he had been sent to learn from a brother beyond saving?
When he saw just how disgraceful the Twelfth Primarch and his Legion were, Number Eleven would realize that the Imperium and the Master of Mankind held no hope for him.
His return would not be welcomed by anyone.
He would not go to study with the glorious and beloved Sixteenth Legion, the Luna Wolves.
He would not go to the disciplined and methodical Tenth Legion, the Iron Hands.
As a Psyker, the Master of Mankind would not even dispatch him to study alongside another psychic Primarch, Magnus, because he feared that Magnus would be corrupted by Zelo.
What a pitiful Primarch.
Had Zelo returned during the early days of the Great Crusade, perhaps his arrangements would not have been so dismissive.
But he was already too late.
At that point, Zelo might rage at him, at Xynis, who had been sent by the Master of Mankind to watch him.
He might even try to attack him.
But that was his purpose as Xynis of the Adeptus Custodes, the worth of the Master of Mankind’s most loyal spear.
He would faithfully report back to the Master of Mankind on just how far the Primarch’s fall had progressed.
With mixed feelings, Xynis gathered his thoughts and slowly began to speak.
“Your brother, the Primarch of the First Legion, the Dark Angels, is Lion El’Jonson.
He is a loyal knight in the service of the Emperor.” “I discovered in the Imperial annals that the First Legion participated in fewer campaigns than other Legions of comparable size.” “But from certain battle reports, I deduced that their wargear was second to none.
In fact, I believe theirs may be the finest.
Yet their recorded campaigns are few.
Why is that?” The Primarch’s question was overly detailed, clearly premeditated, and Xynis found himself somewhat at a loss.
“Not all campaigns are recorded in the annals.” That was all Xynis could say.
“The Second Legion was expunged for transgressions.
No one is permitted to discuss them.” “The Third Legion, the Emperor’s Children.
Their Primarch, Lord Fulgrim, is a man of elegance who values honor.” As Zelo listened, his thoughts lingered on the First Legion: finest equipment, campaigns not recorded in the annals.
But when he read about the campaigns of other Legions, almost all their glories were inscribed in the histories, especially the Third Legion, whose records were continuous and chronologically detailed.
The recorded campaigns of the First Legion, however, showed vast gaps in both time and operational star sectors.
This was a Legion tasked with dirty work, Zelo mused.
Perhaps it was similar to what the Emperor had said about his own responsibilities, or perhaps the First Legion handled inglorious internal campaigns.
The Second Legion was not to be discussed.
Zelo knew nothing about this, and could only take the vanished Second Legion as a warning: never follow in their footsteps, lest all his past efforts vanish into nothing.
The Emperor could grant them, as Primarchs, immensely powerful armies and command, but he could also take it all back at any moment.
His third brother was evidently one favored by the Emperor.
When time allowed, Zelo should meet this elegant brother and learn a few things.
“The Fourth Legion, the Iron Warriors.
Primarch Perturabo.
I am not very familiar with this Lord Primarch.” In the annals, the Fourth Legion was usually sent on thankless siege operations, and they were rarely praised.
Zelo concluded that the Primarch of the Iron Warriors might be a brother who cared nothing for fame.
“The Fifth Legion, the White Scars.
Their leader is the Khan.
He and his Legion are adept at lightning warfare, with a bold and unfettered combat style.” A Legion that favored charges.
Zelo liked that.
“The Sixth Legion, the Space Wolves.
Their Primarch is Leman Russ.
This Lord Primarch is unconventional, and also…” The Custodian paused deliberately for a second.
“If any Legion commits an error, then the Master of Mankind dispatches the Sixth Legion to admonish them.” But from the annals, Zelo believed this brother Russ was more threat than execution.
It was more a matter of shaming other Legions.
Legions visited by the Sixth suffered a loss of honor, nothing more.
It was a bluff and a warning delivered on behalf of the Master of Mankind.
Then came steadfast Dorn, holy Sanguinius, rational Ferrus, Guilliman, glorious yet provincial in ambition, learned Magnus, the uniquely favored Horus Lupercal, merciful Vulkan, and Corax, who lurked in the shadows.
Most of them shared a common trait, Zelo noticed: they were glorious within the Imperium, promoted and praised.
Their Legions’ combat styles were mostly straightforward and honorable, or simply rational.
Among them, Zelo specifically inquired about Guilliman’s 500 Worlds, and was told that the Emperor allowed Guilliman to do this, even though it made the Primarch’s reputation somewhat delicate among his brothers.
Guilliman displayed too great a love for power, too great a love for his own small domain, rather than the larger Imperium.
But in Zelo’s eyes, this was a sign that the Emperor permitted the Primarchs to stockpile resources and raise armies.
Not encouraged openly, but not truly forbidden.
This was a gray area, Zelo thought.
He had already decided that in the future, he would emulate Guilliman, only more covertly and cautiously, without Guilliman’s grand propaganda or his many star systems unified under a single culture.
He also inquired about Magnus, but the Custodian’s response was restrained, as if unwilling to let him know too much.
Zelo clearly sensed that the Custodian’s attitude reflected the Emperor’s attitude: the Emperor seemed reluctant to let him delve too deeply into the Warp, and by extension, reluctant to let him contact Magnus.
A pity.
Zelo very much wanted to interact with Magnus, the only brother like him in that respect.
Zelo also inquired about Horus, the first of the brothers to be recovered.
From how this brother was treated, Zelo could see that the Master of Mankind seemed to harbor a firm and warm familial affection for the Primarchs, and Horus had not failed his mission.
Zelo believed the Emperor also paid him sufficient attention.
At least regarding the degree of his corruption, Zelo thought the Emperor had invested considerable effort.
But amid these glorious and honored brothers, there were also discordant notes.
Others were not glorious, rarely mentioned, and passed over with awkward laughter whenever the Emperor’s glorious sons were recounted.
That, however, gave Zelo even greater insight.
There was Konrad Curze of the Eighth Legion.
This Primarch attacked his other brothers, did not manage his own Legion, yet received no particularly severe punishment.
Conclusion: it was permissible to attack one’s brothers, and permissible to neglect one’s own Legion.
There was Mortarion of the Fourteenth Legion.
The Pale Primarch was not close to the Imperium.
He despised the Emperor, yet was close to Horus, and at the same time, his Legion made widespread use of toxic and contaminating gases on other worlds.
Conclusion: it was permissible not to be perfectly loyal in public to the Emperor, and permissible to form private cabals with fellow Primarch brothers.
There was Lorgar of the Word Bearers, the Seventeenth Legion.
He and his Legion were loudly proclaiming that the Emperor was a God, which directly violated the Imperial Truth.
Conclusion: it was permissible to proclaim the Emperor as a God, though Zelo planned to be cautious on this point, given that the Emperor had specifically taken him aside to emphasize it.
In this regard, Zelo was under special observation.
He was unwilling to provoke the Emperor’s displeasure right from the start.
From this perspective, the Emperor was quite lenient with the Primarchs, Zelo thought.
Some of these matters, if they had occurred among the generals under Zelo’s command, would have seen them hanged immediately.
Among his soldiers, attacking kin without cause, refusing discipline, and forming private cabals were grave offenses.
Similarly, Guilliman-like hoarding of massive assets and strategic materiel would have been absolutely forbidden among the people Zelo led.
Anyone caught doing so would have been taken out and hanged.
In the society led by the Great Other, as the price of stability, peace, and a future, people were forbidden to indulge their own desires too far, and were even less permitted to hinder collective development for the sake of private interest and gain.
The Emperor was indeed a benevolent and tolerant man, Zelo thought.
At the very least, he was extremely permissive toward the Primarchs.
He allowed them to do these things.
Even the Custodians knew of these scandals.
True taboos are always the things that can never be spoken of, like the ambiguous First Legion and the vanished Second Legion.
Anything that could be spoken of, anything that could be allowed to spread, could not be too serious a matter.
Still, when doing these things, he would be cautious.
At least he had to keep up appearances for the sake of propriety.
The Custodian before Zelo could not read minds.
If he had known that this Primarch had taken the inferior Primarchs not as warnings, but as inspiration…
That Custodian would likely fly into a rage.
There are two kinds of children in the world.
When told of cautionary tales and bad examples, good children reflect on themselves and discipline themselves strictly, striving to become mature and steady role models in their Father’s eyes.
Those were Horus and Fulgrim, those glorious figures.
Bad children, on the other hand, first weigh the punishment, then decide whether to act, or work out how to steal the candy without getting caught.
They may even treat bad examples as operational manuals.
Zelo was clearly regarded by the Emperor as a less-than-excellent Primarch.
He also did not care about so-called glory in his Father’s eyes.
The worldly system of rewards and punishments built by secular society had no effect on a man who had experienced the reversals of fortune.
He was not his Father’s child.
He was Zelo, and he was only, and precisely, a warrior trying to liberate all of humanity from suffering.
Beyond that, he could be anyone, or no one.
“And what about the XII Legion?” Finally, Zelo asked this.
The Custodian before him fell into an even longer silence.
Yet Zelo sensed, instead, that a flicker of positive emotion had stirred in the Custodian.
Zelo did not yet know that, three star systems away, at this very moment, the Butcher’s Nails were humming.
The good brother he was hoping for was roaring in the throes of collapse.