#cw primarch dehumanization

[sleepyfan-blog]

Midnight Blues

Author’s Note: This is the fourth part of the Big E raising the Baby Primarchs fic. First. Previous. Next. 

Warnings: dehumanization of infants, Jealousy, Big E being a shitty parent

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @sharenadraculea @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan 

Summary: The Emperor is about to take a late night nap when another’s psychic distress draws his attention. 

Neoth closed his eyes for a few moments, having just laid down for a quick nap, late into the terran night when feelings of intense discomfort, pain and fear that were not his own washed across his mental landscape, pure and bright. The Emperor of mankind leapt to his feet, blue eyes turning sunfire gold as he reached for his blade, searching swiftly for the source of disquiet, psychic flames lighting up his room in sharp relief. 

Nothing. No dark creatures, no scheming sorcerors, no mad-jabbering witches calling to their false-gods to unleash misery and pain upon his subjects. And yet, another wave of fear-discomfort-unhappiness washed through his mind. Neoth swiftly followed the mental link back to the person radiating such intense emotions at him to find -

Fifteen, kicking and wailing in it’s crib, blanket off, pacifier nowhere within it’s grabbing range, tiny limbs flailing wildly. He could hear twelve start to sniffle and wail - it’s empathic powers going to be useful when it was older, but now only served to upset it when one of it’s siblings were distressed. Neoth pulled back into his own body and rushed into the primarchs’ baby room, which was only a short distance from his own personal rooms, ignoring the way his golden companions startled and moved around him in tired confusion.

He needed to move quickly or all of them would wake and begin crying and it would take hours for all of them to calm down - and they’d need additional feeding and hydration to replace the fluids they’d lost while sobbing. He scoops fifteen up from it’s bassinet and began rocking it back and forth in his arms as he floated a warm bottle of formula into his free hand, gently pressing it to Fifteen’s pouty lips “Shhh… Come on now, quiet down… Are you hungry, fifteen? Hmmm? Is that why you were crying? You woke up at least one of your brothers… It’s alright… I’ve got you little one, it’s alright, papa’s got you.” 

Fifteen latched onto the bottle and sucked on it a couple of times before spitting it out, shaking it’s head and snuffling, though it’s cries were quieter then before. Neoth frowned, before setting Fifteen down, checking his cloth briefs, cleaning the little one up and changing it to a clean diaper “Ah, you needed to be cleaned up. There now, are you more comfy now?”

FIfteen latched onto one of his fingers with a tiny crimson fist, yawning hugely before settling back into it’s bassinet with a pleased sound.

Neoth sensed the lingering surprise, mild confusion and was that… Jealousy amongst his golden companions in the room? He looked around at a moderately sullen looking Constantin, who was hovering near Twelve, having checked and changed the fussy little empathic primarch, from whom the emotions were radiating most strongly from “Is something bothering you, Constantin?” He asks as he tucks fifteen in, laying it’s blanket over it’s small form, ensuring that it’s pacifier was within grabbing range.

“You referred to yourself as Fifteen’s father, sire.” Constantin murmured, voice low and quiet “I hadn’t thought that they would begin forming memories so early in their life, to be referring to you in such a way, to reinforce their obedience to you.”

“They… They shouldn’t retain any emotions, beyond vague feelings of attachment and care. And I didn’t refer.. To myself… as Fifteen’s… fathe… Yes I did.” Neoth internally cursed. He couldn't get too attached to them. They were to be his transhuman generals. His first and foremost warriors, to unite mankind and ensure humanity’s dominance in the galaxy over all that would see them enslaved and weak,fearful and ignorant. “... I need to step back from caring for them. They are taking up a great deal more of my time than I was expecting them to, and I am beginning to lose the distance I need to maintain from them due to their bodily and emotional needs as infants.”

“Entirely understandable, my lord. But who will be taking care of them  in your place? The Lord Sigilite is just as busy as you are, my emperor, and I am still daily dealing with fools who try to sabotage your efforts in any number of ways, as are the other captain-generals of the different arms of the Adeptus Custodes. And the Shadowkeepers are still keeping watch for the invasion force of Chaotic fools who intend on stealing away the primarchs.” Constantin murmured, practical as ever.

“They will need caretakers who are competent, but who will not grow unduly attached to them as the infants they appear to be, rather than the tools they actually are. Constantin, I will leave finding appropriate caretakers to you, as I will be negotiating with the Martians and the Jovians… Again.” Neoth orders, keeping his voice low and quiet, so as to not wake his tiny generals. If he spoke more than a whisper in their presence, even if they were sleeping, they would wake and their attention would inevitably fixate on him. It was only normal, of course. He was their liege lord, their creator. His presence should attract their attention whenever he was nearby, no matter how old they are.

“As you command, my lord. I will have prospects for you by the end of the month, background checks permitting, my lord. In the meantime, I will double their Custodes guards and have them by taken care of by them.” Constantin offered, bowing before taking his leave, a dataslate in hand, already working on the task that his master had given him.

Such a dutiful man, Constantin. A small, pleased smile touched Neoth’s lips. The other custodes returned to their usual posts as Neoth turned and started to leave the primarchs’ room, before twelve started to wail.

Neoth sighed and walked over to the infant, scooping him up. “You’ve been changed… You aren’t hungry… Why are you upset little one, hmm?” He rocked twelve back and forth, ensuring that the little one could hear his heartbeat by pressing the other’s head on his chest, as he knew that was one quick way to get any of them to settle down. “Or are one of the others having a little nightmare? Probably Eight or Nine, as both of them have future sight.” He hadn’t expected their future sight to manifest within them so young.

Not that the glimpses of future sight that he caught second hand from either infant primarch was at all actionable or at all sensible. Mostly just fuzzy impressions and dizzying emotions, just enough to distress either or both of them tremendously when it happened. He’d called in a Sister of Silence last week when their nightmares had gotten particularly bad. Not that he had allowed her to touch any of the infant primarchs, unsure what or how their nascent warp presences would react to being touched by someone so anathema to their souls. Her presence had dimmed their connection to the warp so that they could sleep peacefully.

Of course, her presence had tremendously upset Fifteen, who wouldn’t stop crying until she left the room. Not even when Neoth held him and rocked him back and forth, singing an ancient lullaby he barely remembered that usually soothed the little shapeshifter. She’d also upset Six as well, who would not stop growling and wuffling aggressively in her direction, having managed to get on his hands and knees, snapping his gummy mouth at her as if he had a mouth full of sharp teeth with which to bite her. She’d made the unfortunate error of getting too close to One’s bassinet while he was awake, causing the tiny blonde primarch to hiss at her as he hid under his blanket, green eyes glowing up with itty bitty fury at this stranger in his domain.

Each of theirs usual Custodes’ guards had been able to mostly settle the upset little ones down, but none of them had truly calmed down until the sister of silence had left the room entirely. 

Neoth shook himself out of his musings, to find twelve sound asleep, tiny head pressed against his chest, one of it’s little thumbs stuck firmly in it’s mouth. “Ah… You just needed a heartbeat to fall asleep to… I’ll need to look into finding something that mimics a human heartbeat well enough for each of you… Fussy, fussy.” He murmured as he slowly removed twelve from his body and set it into it’s bassinet.

He started to back out of the room where his infant generals slept, confused as to why his chest was aching a little. Why his hands longed to hold one of them in each of his arms. Settle into one of the chairs for the comfort of one of the people who was in charge of feeding the little primarchs and fall asleep with them in his arms. Perhaps Eight and Nine, who had nightmares most often, as a side effect of the future sight they’d both been gifted with. His mental shields would easily be able to protect them from fragmented futures… Perhaps fussy little Fourteen and Seventeen, who were the clingiest of his infant generals - especially since Fourteen had shown the alarming trait of teleporting short distances when it wanted to be held and that wish wasn’t fulfilled.

Perhaps Nineteen and One - as they could also teleport short distances as well… Nineteen also had some sort of camouflage ability that rendered him nearly invisible to everyone apart from Neoth himself. The day that had been discovered had been a terrifying one indeed, as his loyal custodes had tried increasingly hard not to panic as they searched the palace, searching for the wayward little primarch as Neoth himself had been off-world at the time, speaking to the leaders of the asteroid miners beyond Pluto until the little shadow weaver had revealed himself to be gumming determinedly on a sweet treat package, clawing at it.

Each of them needed dedicated and competent caretakers, and Neoth could not in good consciousness spend so much time with all of them. Not when the internal alliances of Terra were shaky at best. Not when his command of the Sol System could potentially be questioned and threatened if he did not show a sufficient display of force. Not when agents of the enemy were still to come and try and steal away his children primarchs. He had innumerable duties, and he had to offload these onto others. 

Neoth would insure that he had a presence in their lives, as they grew up, but as infants, his presence was not necessary, apart from an occasional one. Eventually he did give into the urge to gather a bunch of spare pillows and blankets, making a comfortable makeshift fort between two of the chairs. This one last time, before he stepped away from caring for them directly until toddlerhood, he would allow himself this last indulgence. He scooped up each infant and brought them into the blanket fort before settling down in the middle, insuring that he was touching each of them, as they nuzzled into him. 

Soft, warm feelings that Neoth would deny having bubbled in his chest as he fell asleep surrounded by his sleeping infant sons.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Almach's Care

Author’s Note: This is the next part in the Raised on Terra AU! First. Previous. Next. A big thanks to @undeaddream for allowing me to borrow Almach and @kit-williams for letting me borrow Apollo!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @sharenadraculea @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: dehumanization of infants, dehumanization of infant primarchs Ask me to tag, if there’s something that I missed/bothers you

Summary: A typical day of Almach’s, since he’s been assigned to care for three of the infant Primarchs. 

“Come here, little one. You’re doing so well.” Almach encouraged, a warm smile appearing on the Blank’s face as he watched Primarch Eleven crawl on his hands and knees towards him. He was kneeling down on the very comfortable carpet that lined the room of the Primarchs’ Creche, and didn’t even try to hide the beaming smile, nor the pride in his voice as the tiny Primarch crawled over to him.

The much younger Blank paused for a moment, sitting down and going “Bah!” Reaching out towards Almach with both hands before yawning sleepily.

“Come on, young one. I know that you can get a little bit closer. You’ve done so well so far.” Almach encouraged, still smiling encouragingly at the tiny child. He had no idea how much he would come to adore the posting that he’d been given, but there was nothing else in the entire Imperium he would rather be doing right now, than helping to raise these amazing and sweet children.

Eleven yawned, rubbing one of his dark eyes with a curled little fist before going back onto his hands and knees and crawling the rest of the way over to where Almach was, flopping down next to him and rolling onto his back, waving his arms and feet in the air with a happy little giggle. “Hehehe!”

Almach beamed brighter and he carefully scooped Eleven up, murmuring quietly “You did such a good job, little one.” The Emperor of Mankind had yet to see fit to give them names, and the Sigilite was deferring to Him as to the matter of names. Privately, Almach had begun to ponder nicknames to call his wards, as it left a very bad taste in his mouth to keep referring to them by numbers, rather than to give them some kind of proper name. 

“Abababa!” Eleven babbled cheerfully up at Almach before he shoved his fingers in his mouth, gumming on them industriously. 

“That’s not good for you, little one.” Almlach corrected gently as he carefully pulled the tiny Primarch’s fingers out of his mouth.

A small frown appeared on the tiny Primarch’s face as he tried to shove his other hand inside of his mouth.

Almach patiently blocked him from chewing on his other fingers. He grabbed one of the teething toys and gave it to Eleven “I know… Growing teeth isn’t any fun at all. But biting your won fingers won’t help you either, little buddy.”

“Bababah!” Eleven babbled,s seemingly in response before starting to gnaw on the teething toy, the cooling properties of the toy helping to numb the pain from the infant’s growing pains. 

~

Five was one of the best crawlers of the Primarchs, from what Almach noticed. No, he wasn’t biased towards his primary wards, how dare anyone accuse him of such. Five had been one of the first to start crawling, though Six and One had been close second and third. One and Six also liked to try and bite him, whenever they were out of their cribs and able to freely move about their creche. 

Six would baby growl at him, his blue eyes almost luminous, despite his Blank aura, clearly convinced that he was an Enemy that needed chasing off. It certainly didn’t help that he and the Custodian who was in charge of caring for Six and One did not get along very well, though ALmach tried to be polite and cordial to the powerful warrior, keenly aware that were the two of them to come to blows, he was likely to lose such a fight. One hissed at him, bright green eyes glaring mistrustfully at him from whichever corner he was hiding in.

An amusing thing is that One had to defend whichever slightly darkened corner he was lurking in from a number of his fellow Primarchs, most often Eight, Nineteen and the twins. But, given that those five primarchs were apparently meant to hold secrets, were meant to use stealth tactics, and were to be the spymasters of the Imperium once they were old enough and trained enough, this was not surprising.

Almach had learned to keep a close eye whenever Five was out of his crib - especially as some of the other caretakers were near the door, as Five was very fast and had a penchant for trying to crawl at top speed towards whichever open door, window or open vent cover he thought that he could get through.

Scolding the little one did nothing, as the dark haired baby would just stare impassively up at him with hawk-gold eyes before continuing to do whatever it was that he had wanted to do. Five seemed to be fascinated by Fifteen’s nascent shape-shifting abilities and would sit near his brother and watch him for hours, when he wasn’t trying to escape out of the room at any and every opportunity. 

Almach had asked if he would be allowed to bring his charges out of their room, to broaden their horizons and experiences a little but apparently there was an impending threat to the Primarchs that required that they stay in the most heavily guarded section of the palace at all times until the window of danger had passed.

This had led to Almach sleeping in one of the very comfortable chairs meant for himself and his fellow caretakers whenever he wasn’t awake and caring for his charges, or helping the others wrangle their own charges, as his nightmares when he was away from them as to what might happen… Especially to young Eleven, who had all the makings of the most powerful Blank to ever exist among Humanity… 

He had to stay close, and guard them carefully.To keep both eyes on them and devote every spare bit of energy and care he had to each of his three precious charges, and to aid in the care and raising of their brothers, so that they had the best possible start to life. Not because of the grand destinies awaiting them, but because the galaxy was a cruel and unforgiving place, especially to Pariahs, and he did not wish a fraction of the misery he’d gone through before The Emperor had found and saved him on anyone else.

“Bah!” Five called out, gently poking one of his cheeks with a tiny finger. 

A rueful smile appeared on his face and Almach hummed “I’m sorry, my little Sparrow, was I not paying attention to you? What is it you wanted to show me?”

Five leaned into Almach instead, pressing one small ear near where his heart beat, tiny hands coming up to grab onto the fabric of his shirt, golden eyes closing shut, as a happy sigh left the infant. “Mmm…”

Almach beamed, his heart achingly full of affection as he pressed a fond kiss to the top of Five’s head, one hand coming up to support the little one as he leaned over to one side slightly, snagging a blanket to lightly drape around FIve’s tiny body. “Ah, alright. Naptime I guess.” A yawn left the Blank and he carefully scooped up the little Primarch, walking over to a chair and settling in to allow Five to sleep - Elven and Two were playing with Seventeen, Ten and Fourteen, while Thirteen and Seven quietly parallel played near each other. Four was watching Thirteen and Seven play, grabbing a soft toy and butt-scooted over to seven, placing the plush toy next to the neat pile that Seven had made.

~

“Heeere comes the Thunderhawk! Brrrrrrrrooooowwwmmm… And open your mouth, sweetling! That’s it, it’s breakfast!” Almach cooed as he slowly brought up the spoonful of densely nutritious and carefully balanced baby food up to Two’s mouth, getting the little Primarch to open his mouth.

“Abha?” The Tiny Primarch babbled before the spoon entered his mouth. The little one made a face and turned his head away from Almach, the contents of the spoon smearing across one chubby cheek. 

Almach sighed, gently scraping the baby food off of Two’s cheek with the side of the spoon and tried again with a different colored bit of mashed food. None of it smelled very appetizing to him, but he’d been told by no less than a half-dozen nutritionists who were part of the Primarchs’ medical care teams, that these baby food had been specifically formulated to support their growth and immune health.

The fact that it smelled like it tasted of bland vegetables and sadness was simply a result of having the best of the best food available to feed the little ones. They shouldn’t deal with something as stimulating as food spices beyond a little bit of salt for water retention purposes for reasons that he had been assured were very good. Avoiding honey at this age, he did understand… But surely they should get something that tasted a bit better? 

Two was the fussiest eater of his trio of charges. While he would eat as much formula as Almach would let him drink in a feeding, Two had definite opinions on what he was fed from the carefully curated selection of food mashes that were supposed to be fed to the infant Primarchs. “Muh… Muh!” The little Primarch protested, turning his face away as Almach tried feeding him another spoonful of the vegetable mash.

“Come on, it’s good for you, little one? … No? Maybe we will like this fruit mash a little better. It’s sweeter, at least, from what I can smell.” Almach sighed, clearing the spoon of the ground up vegetable paste, and switching over to the fruit-mash. 

Two immediately focused on the paste being offered to him and ate every bite of it, babbling happily between bites. After that, he did have several bites of the vegetable mash before turning away from the spoon once again. Two started trying to escape the feeding chair that Almach had put him in, trying to wriggle his way to freedom.

A sigh left Almach and he carefully wiped the baby’s face and hands before unstrapping him from the feeding chair and putting him down to go play with the brothers who’d been fed in the previous hour. “Alright, there you go, young one. That’s enough food for now, I guess.” He noted down in Two’s food journal what he had eaten, what he had refused, and how much he’d eaten before washing everything up and getting Five’s food ready.

~

“... How did one like you become part of the care team for the Primarchs?” Apollo demanded, his eyes narrowing as he glared down at the Blank, arms crossed over his chest as he watched as the other was attempting to care for one of his charges.

One wasn’t having any of it, however. The tiny Primarch was growling and swatting at him, the three baby teeth that he’d managed to grow in bared in a valiant attempt to be ferocious. One had woken up unexpectedly from his nap and had been crying.

Apollo had been on his way over to care for the little one when the Blank had shown up first, and had attempted to check One’s diaper, in case he needed to be changed. 

“And just what does that mean?” Almach asked, glowring up at the giant golden fucker, trying to avoid angry baby fists in order to care for him. “Mind helping me change One? He needs it, and if he keeps being this noisy, he’ll wake up all of his brothers.” He kept his voice light and calm and quiet, despite the irritation bubbling under his skin. 

“Pariahs aren’t known for their social skills. Move, he dislikes your… Everything, and for good reason, considering how unpleasant you are to be around.” Apollo growled to the mortal blank hip-checking the other out of his way, before reaching into One’s crib.

The infant primarch started to calm down, now that the idiot Blank was out of his immediate sight line.

“See? He’s gone now. I’m here.” Apollo attempted to soothe the still unsettled little Primarch, running a couple of fingers through short blonde hair, ignoring the way that he’d sent the Blank sprawling to the floor. 

“You fucker! That hurt!” Almach hissed in indignation, staggering back up onto his feet. He glowered at the Custodian for several moments, internally debating on whether or not he should respond in kind… But Apollo was currently in the middle of cleaning up One… And the Blank was keenly aware of the fact that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he was going to win a fight with a custodian one on one. 

The Custodes smirked down at him before saying “Hand me the clean diaper you were clumsy enough to drop, would you?”

Almach’s glare intensified and he viciously picked it up before throwing it at the large gold fucker’s head “Fine, bastard.” 

“Mm, of the two of us, I know who both of my parents were, and had been well-loved by them before being chosen by Him to become one of His Companions. I’m not sure what gutter He found you in.” The Custodian taunted, a cruel smirk on his face as he finished cleaning up One, tossing the dirty diaper at Almach “Dispose of that for me, would you? You are capable of following basic instructions, yes?”

A low, frustrated growl left Almach and he just barely managed to catch the dirty diaper before it opened and caused a larger mess to clean up later. He silently stomped over to where the disposal chute was and threw it away, still scowling heavily, muttering to himself “At least I don’t have a twelve-foot pole shoved up my ass, making it difficult to do the job I signed up for.”

Apollo turned to glare at Almach, his voice glacially cold “And just what do you mean by that? I am following mission parameters. You are the one who has been coddling the -”

“Don’t you fucking start with that again. Human infants need physical touch and to be held regularly, or they will die. It’s been well-documented that infants who don’t receive the physical comfort and care that they need suffer later in life. If they are starved of too much physical touch and affection they will die of loneliness. We are a social species, and that has not been genetically cut away from the infant Primarchs. They are still human. Elevated far beyond what I, as a humble baseline could ever hope to be, but human nonetheless.” Almach growled, his eyes narrowing a little. After his younger sibling had been killed because they had been a Blank and had been caught out at the wrong time… He had sworn that if he’d ever been put in charge of other Blanks in any capacity, he would do his utmost to care for and protect them.

And Eleven had the makings of being an incredibly powerful blank. He would doubtlessly struggle in social interactions with non-Blanks, possibly for the entirety of his life due to the nature of being a Pariah, but Almach intended on giving Eleven the best chance he could to succeed. 

“I do give my charges the touch that they require. You indulge all of the Primarchs far too much. They are meant to be our Lord’s best and greatest generals. To help him in conquering the galaxy and bringing it into the dominion of Humanity. It’s possible that some of them may die during this most Glorious of purposes. Coddling them and being so soft on them will not do them any good in the long run.” Apollo pointed out, shaking his head a little “I did take the same childrearing classes that you did. But coddling them runs the risk of blunting them from being the weapons they are supposed to be.”

Almach ground his teeth together, trying to swallow down the words that beat in his breast. These were children. Infants. Genetically modified and enhanced yes. But that did not make them weapons of war, and treating them as such would only cause far, far more problems down the line. But to say that out loud directly, would get him pulled off of the Primarch Project… And very probably killed or imprisoned. “Just because they are meant to be living weapons, does not mean that is the only thing they can, or should be. Allowing them to become full people will encourage their loyalty to Him, and ensure that they are more useful in a variety of ways, rather than simply as tools of war.” Almach hated, hated referring to the Primarchs as tools, but that is what He viewed them as, and He had said as much.

“... I suppose those points do have merit. I will ponder them. For being a quarrelsome Pariah, I do admit you have moments of cleverness.” The Dread Spear murmured, a thoughtful expression on his face before turning away from Almach, as One had settled back into sleep.

Almach closed his eyes and counted to twenty twice, as the wildly foolish urge to attack the Custodes after the other had turned his back to him clawed at his self-control. He would care for his charges and their brothers to the best of his abilities. He had to keep his temper, if he were to stay on the team caring for them, so he let the Custodes leave without another word.

[sleepyfan-blog]

First Ripple

Author’s Note: Part two of Baby Primarchs being raised by the Emperor AU! Previous. Next

Warnings: dehumanization of primarchs, dehumanization of infants, manipulation

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets

Summary: Erda inquires about the visions that two of the baby primarchs were so distressed by. The Emperor explains, after some cajoling. 

"Neoth it's been a week and a half, and you've yet to tell me what the contents of the visions that Eight and Nine had that caused you to decide to pull all of the primarchs from their incubation chambers until they were infants, like we had previously agreed. Don't think I haven't noticed the increase in security in and around the gene labs, as well as the entirety of the palace as a whole. You're preparing for something. Let me help. The only psyker stronger than I am on Terra is you. But I can't prepare for what I don't know is coming." Erda demanded, staring directly up at Neoth, hands on her hips as the two of them were overseeing the final touches being done to the Primarchs' nursery. All twenty of them would be sleeping in a single, heavily fortified room within the Imperial palace. The room in question was itself a secret known to herself, Amar, Neoth... And the entirety of Neoth's hand-crafted Custodes. This room had been repurposed from a large storage room to a multi-bed play and sleeping room. This room was positioned within one hallway of the throne room and Erda's own personal rooms. The room had one active Gellar field protecting it at all times, and had two separate back-up Gellar fields ready to activate, should the first fail or waver for the slightest moment.

Neoth briefly looked at her before staring at the last of the preparations - several of his younger Custodes were carefully setting up the last of the infant beds with deft and steady hands, though the small furniture looked almost comical in their large hands. He sighed before saying "If we left them to continue to grow within their maturation pods, within a year... Chaos would take them." 

Erda froze for a moment, her eyes widening in horror and confusion "But... But how, the Gellar fields keep The Enemy at bay!"

Neoth looked down at her, a troubled expression furrowing his brows "The visions were overlapping and unclear, but The Enemy sent agents that destroyed the Gellar fields protecting their pods, and -" He hesitated, looking searchingly at her. He still does not see or feel any Chaotic taint within her. "... For reasons I do not know, you were the one to rip open a warp portal, and cast the primarchs into that infinite abyss. You were trembling with rage and sorrow, and many died in the ensuing rampage of The Enemy's servants rampaging around the palace, as the gene-labs were collapsed as reality temporarily collapsed."

"I...  I would never cast our beautiful children away! Especially not into the Warp, the domain of The Enemy, to corrupt their souls and twist their brilliant little minds to cruelty... If they wouldn't kill our children out of spite." Erda spluttered, taking a half-step back in shock.

Part of him wanted to correct her, remind her that the Primarchs weren't their children, not truly. They were weapons, tools for galactic conquest and to bring the disparate colonies of humanity back under one unified banner. The rebuke was on his tongue, but caution stayed him. He would let her cogitate on her future self's potential betrayal - let the utter foolishness of such an act, no matter how well-intentioned she may have thought it to be in a moment of wrathful sorrow, before reminding her what the Primachs, which they had spent over a thousand years in genetics research, testing and experimenting, in order to create. "I am glad to hear that, Erda. I cannot say what drove you in their visions to such an act... But-" He deliberately hesitates, looking her in the eyes before letting his gaze sweep around the room, to the twenty-one bassinets arranged in neat if uneven rows around the room "I... Have a request to make of you, Erda."

She tensed at that, trying to catch his gaze "What... What request is that, Neoth?"

He lets her catch his gaze. He slowly reaches out to her physically, one hand coming to rest lightly on his hand, the other cupping her cheek. "You are a dear companion of mine, Erda. In these long, endless days and nights, and your keen mind and insights have been invaluable beyond words. I see you now, untouched by The Enemy, and I want to believe that-" Carefully, gently now. A light squeeze to her shoulder, allow his eyes to soften as his face shifts to a look of worry that he does genuinely feel. His gilded companions shift a little, ready and listening for the command. 

Good.

Hopefully he won't need to give it, but for the future he sees for mankind, and the necessary sacrifice and bloodshed that must be spilled for it to become a reality, he cannot allow his Primarchs out of his grasp. For eleven of them to become corrupted in one way or another by The Enemy or filthy xenos... No. He will not allow that to happen. He's keenly aware of the power she wields. Which is why this conversation is happening here, well before The Enemy's servants invade the palace and far from where his little generals are slumbering in their pods. "- whatever reasons your potential future self did that, you believed it was for the best. But the glimpses into their futures that I saw... Seventeen lands on a world of chaos worshippers and is slowly corrupted from decanting. Eight lands in a world of literal - and figurative - darkness and is forced to survive on it-his own, killing animals to feast on their flesh. Twelve is beset by Xenos upon decanting, and is then thrown into gladiator pits, with neural implants forced into his brain that torture him into madness. Fourteen lands on a world ruled by necromancers, found by the dread lord of that world and cruelly experimented on until it-he escapes. Twenty-A and Twenty-O are separated during the warp trip and Twenty-O is raised by pirates. Sixteen-"

she raises a hand and pressed her fingers to his lips, shaking her head, tears threatening to fall from her eyes "Please... No more. I can guess what you are going to ask of me. You want me to leave the Primarch project? Perhaps even leave the palace entirely. To avoid whatever temporary madness, or Enemy-fueled temptation I somehow fall for, yes? There is much I can do outside of the palace. Or would you rather I leave Terra entirely? I can assist in dealing with the tech-priests of Mars, or the Jovian shipyards."

Neoth kept his face and body posture gentle, regretful, though he allowed a small smile to lift the corners of his lips. "That I am, I am glad that you understand why I am asking this of you. Which would you prefer? To interact with the tech-priests, or wrangle the disparate forces of the Jovian shipyards? For security purposes, I would not be able to inform you of their growth and development until they are ready to be introduced to Terra and the Sol system at large. For their own protection."

"I... Of course, that makes sense, though I will demand that you take plenty of pictures and keep a log of how each of them grow and develop! Despite not being able to be there for their childhoods, I still want to have some evidence of them growing into the strong, handsome beings I know they will one day become. I would rather deal with the Jovian shipyards and deal with the Negotiator clans, rather than the worshippers of the Omnisiah. No offense meant, Neoth." Erda decided, a small and teasing smile appearing on her face.

Neoth rolled his eyes and huffed, grumbling "While it's convenient they decided I am their Omnisiah, it is not something that I encourage them. Of course I will be having their growth and development well documented by trusted people, which I will share with you once they are ready." The promise came easily to his lips. Whether or not he kept that promise depended on whether or not Erda turned to the Enemy in the ensuing years or not. 

"Very well. I’ll start to pack." Erda responded with a nod "I should be ready to leave by the end of the day."

Neoth hummed, nodding and said "I'll have Constantin help you pack, and see you on your way to the shipyards."

She chuckled a little and swatted at him playfully "As if that boy doesn't have enough to do! You don't need to have him fussing over me while I pack my things."

"I insist. He's currently at loose ends, and you know the mischief he can get up to when bored, Idle hands and all that." He responded, keeping his voice and body posture light and playful.

"Oh, alright. Send him to my rooms, and I'll get packing. Don't bully Malcador too much! Goodness knows that boy is entirely too serious as it is. Or Constantin! The lad thinks the galaxy of you." Erda hummed before she headed off.

"I know. I'll keep that in mind, Erda." Neoth responded, suppressing any wayward emotions behind the mask of calm he was projecting. It wouldn't be a true victory until she was off Terra.

Six hours later, and he got the confirmation from Constantin that Erda was well on her way to the Jovian shipyards, none the wiser of the two shadow keepers sent on the same ship to monitor her and report back to him.