#forever forgotten // 40k verse.

[forgottnseccnd]

" ... my Ars Amatoria is still in the Imperial libraries...? Did Father really just not check the name? "

[forgottnseccnd]

There was one thing that truly stuck out for Aurelius, something that had started to make its way into his mind, something his anxiety often told him of... and hearing all of this, it was only cementing it all into his mind as true.

That he caused more problems. He was a hinderance. A mistake. Weak. Pathetic. A failure. Reviled. Failed his Father. Failed Guilliman. Ruined everything.

He failed mankind. He failed everyone and everything. He ruined it all. His mere existence, his hopes to do things differently than his father, was what led to him being such a failure. He was the cause for his sons' deaths. He was the cause for everything going so wrong. Aurelius pressed his face to the floor, practically screaming into the very earth. He cried. He screamed. Help. Please. But he couldn't make a sound.

Not when he felt those stabbing pains feeling like they would have ripped his throat apart. Not when it felt like his head was ready to be pulled from his shoulders. He felt how heavy Guilliman's body had been, how it felt like everything was burning up from within. There was a great weight on his shoulder, how he felt so sick, how he couldn't move... it was only getting worse. His body enveloped in a cold sweat, the constant state of fear, flashes, glimpses of what his brothers had done. Nausea. Unable to breathe, unable to cry.

The whispers of his father only further plagued Aurelius, muddling his thoughts when he tried so hard to cling to reality, but he couldn't feel anything. His head craned-- and he cried, oh how he cried out to the protectors of the Emperor, but none heard him.

Failure. Useless. Weak. Reviled. Failed everyone. Ruined everything. The light of the God-Emperor's aura only grew brighter as he continued speaking to Aurelius, and Aurelius could do nothing but lie there, head now craning awkwardly to stare upon the Golden Throne and its majesty. He thought he heard sizzling in his own skull. Aurelius wouldn't be able to scream anyway, so why did it matter anymore? He tried so hard to keep fighting and cling to reality, just that little bit more...

I failed. I ruined everything, I know. But Father, please. Please. Just let me help him... let me help...

How long did it all go on for? To Aurelius, it felt like hours-- hours, and he was so easily brought to his knees. He didn't realize just how long this could go on for, just how long this could last... and yet even still, no matter how much he felt his brain be ripped apart, no matter how much he felt his eyes ready to melt in their sockets, no matter how much pain he was in... he was still loyal to the Imperium, and to his Father.

Because it was then as he lied there, experiencing the pain of poor Guilliman, some part of him tried so hard to lend his very own energy to the Master of Mankind to help bring his fractured soul together. His finger twitched. He seized on the floor like he was connected to the wall of his very ship.

His eyes rolled back.

... please let me prove myself... papa. I'm sorry. I love you, papa.

"Fix this... Fix this?" he voice bellowed once more, questioning that intention. "Make amends, yet cause more problems... Cannot help... Ruined everything... Failed... Failed me... Failed Guilliman..."

Those words would keep burning more and more. Just as Aurelius had been so convinced that his brother needed to know the absolute pain and suffering he'd been through; the Anathema was going to show Aurelius the pain that Guilliman had been suffering.

The pain in his throat, unlike the choking feeling he'd felt before. It hurt to even breathe. Yet still working through pain, still communicating when his voice could not be heard. Still taking command when if felt like thousands of hot knives stabbing him in the same place over and over and over and over again.

Then another...

Sitting at a desk, head in his hand. He's looking up at Ayhan as he talks. His body feels so heavy. It feels like he burning up. There's panic on their father's face. Everything goes black.

And another...

He's working in the office as more and more paperwork is piled up. More and more problems are presented. The weight on his shoulder is building. Out of the corner of his vision is Aurelius, himself, standing there in the shadows simply watching quietly. It feels like he hadn't slept in days. He feels ill as he tries to argue with his brother. Soon, it all goes black again.

And more still...

Nightmares, visions, deaths of thousands on a battlefield. Waking up screaming in a cold sweat. Fear filling him as he tries to remember where he is. Flashing glimpses of brothers who inflicted great wounds on him over and over again. Each time with the intent to end his life. A prickling sense of nausea in his stomach, gasping to breathe...

The Anathema went quiet once more. It was almost as if he was contemplating. Yet the whispers of his fractured psyche were still scolding him, praising him.

"A failure... Weak... Pathetic... Strong... Beloved... Reviled... Help... No help... A hinderance... A mistake..."

[forgottnseccnd]

A message came in.

“Well well old friend, I thought you were still alive. Now someone owes me money. Anyways, need supplies?”

The message started with clear joy, switching a smug, than back to happy.

A pause at the message. Aurelius could barely focus on much as he was attached to the damn wall, using his very energy to keep everything powered. The techpriest Nirisch shifted as he kept the vox to his Primarch's lips.

" ... Supplies... yes, that would be good... " Aurelius spoke, yet it was more of a tired mumble as he did his best to keep his head up. " ... who is this? This is... Ursa Major... "

Nirisch nervously murmured as he held the vox with his servo arm, adjusting the many wires that connected the Primarch's arms, legs and back to the wall of the engine room. " Right... okay, my Lord... um-- ah-- could you ask if they have any sort of auramite? "

A grunt, Aurelius's eyes flicking over beneath his helmet. Auramite? That was rare... they'd be able to get their hands on ceramite, or adamantine...

" ... do you have any possible auramite in your supplies? My techpriest requires them for his masterworks... "

[marvelficrec]

Any Avengers fix where Wanda is controlling people or is bashed but without Steve bashing

Good trope! 

buckytony:

One Hydra Head at a time - 40k

After one too many relapses and wipes in the early 1950’s, Zola develops Project Wings in hopes of forever subduing Winter Soldier’s original personality and memories using very specific conditioning methods. Ten years later the Winter Soldier is the most efficient weapon Hydra owns and Project Wings is declared a success, its files archived away, forgotten.

Until decades later when Hydra makes the ultimate mistake - orders the Winter Soldier to kill Captain America, which unbeknownst to them triggers Project Wings’s protocols. Now, they have a rogue Asset on the loose and its newest mission is to execute some major Hydra ass-whooping.

And the fact the Asset chooses Tony Stark as his new Handler doesn’t help Hydra’s dilemma one bit.

OR

Bucky embarks on a Hydra killing spree in order to regain his lost memories. The Soldier is excited to have a new mission. And Tony Stark has no idea why is a Hydra assassin casually walking into his workshop asking for orders this early in the morning.

Scarlet - 5k

Bucky is determined to take down the remainder of Hydra now that he is no longer their power. The remaining list of Hydra agents includes Wanda Maximoff. And if he gets to protect Tony Stark along the way, that may just be a surprising bonus.

What Has Been Done - 16k

Bucky has lived with the Avengers for a while now, and he’s mostly settled in. During the process, he fell for Tony Stark - hard - but he can’t quite bring himself to admit it to the brilliant engineer. So he just does what he can to take care of and protect him, hoping that maybe the other man will fall just as hard for him… and be the one to take their relationship to the next level. In the meantime, he’s noticed that there’s one member of the team that Tony seems afraid of, and he is definitely not pleased by the notion.

Once he finds out what Wanda did to cause that fear, she might wish she’d never left Hydra.

Fresh out the freezer + 2k - buckytony

Listen; he’s not a total asshole. Tony figures that the guy whose brain has been scrambled since the forties might have some tender sensibilities and he tones down a lot out of respect for that.

It’s sweet. But ultimately unnecessary when all Bucky’s been thinking about is bending Tony over the nearest table.

stevetony:

and this is the map of my heart - 60k - have not read but it looks really good!

The Avengers are splintered - spread out across the world.

There are many things to regret. The biggest one is what could have been.

Tony refuses to have any more regrets. Steve realizes that perhaps he made the wrong choice.

It starts from here….

Love and Other Drugs - 43k - this fic is of the team coming together.. there is bashing to all team cap because they are healing

Steve hated the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor, the whoosh of the ventilator, and the drip, drip, dripping of the IV fluids. Is this what Tony’s life came down to now? Artificial noises in a bland room which smelled of antiseptic and misery? Is this what it came down to? After everything?

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

And he was plugged into a machine in order to help him breathe.

Because he was in a coma.

Because he had swallowed an entire bottle of pills.

No one had noticed until someone needed him.

gen:

wanda’s curse verse - 69k 

Wanda uses her powers to affect the team, poisoning their minds against Tony. When Steve gets hit in the head on a routine mission, her plan starts to unravel.

Collateral Damage - 5k 

When Vision is seriously hurt during Wanda’s ‘escape’ from the Compound, Tony decides that he is done bending over backwards for people who keep hurting his kids.

ask box is closed!

[forgottnseccnd]

" ... Brothers? " Mumbled a voice over a crackling vox-cast. The source of it wasn't able to truly be traced-- at least, in terms of any identification. But, a tired eye could be seen staring into the pict-recorder, one that glowed a faint blue... albeit with a burst blood vessel, turning a part of the eye red.

" Is that you? Are you really... are you really there? "

[forgottnseccnd]

Everything was done with such care. Where the Emperor could not use his mighty strength to hammer and temper the bones, Nirisch and his deft hands mindfully threaded the wires through the mold. Slowly but surely, he tailored the wired cartilage together to help the metal bones stay in place. His servo-arm assisted with the muscles afterward.

Ceramite and titanium and electrical equipment had been painstakingly crafted with it. Muscle slowly weaved together to become metal sinew, pressed together to begin making the musculature of the arms and legs. Nirisch's optic had focused hard on it-- he was looking through his databases at the same time, silently mapping out just how each muscle for each limb should be-- he wanted these to be perfect, after all! But there was something he was far more focused on as the memories of what the great Omnissiah had in mind slowly came to surface. When his job with slowly putting the muscle and cartilage together to the bone was done, what Nirisch focused on the most was the uppermost layer.

White-hot plates of auramite had been lain upon another workshop table, hammered, tempered, then cooled to begin forming the very flesh-plating that would protect the muscle and bone. It would be sectioned plating, all of it to allow for easier movement for Aurelius... but what Nirisch was focused on the most, after the plates were shaped properly, then oh-so-carefully put together, piece by piece.

There was just one more thing missing-- the rubies that the Omnissiah would add to such masterpieces, but Nirisch was not done yet.

... he had admittedly been a bit eager for this part-- he had all sorts of mechadendrites now fly from beneath his robes, some keeping the limbs in place while others began to use the silver to form thin wires, twisting, soldering them together... then, putting them into small areas where Nirisch had marked the metal... and, finally, making sure it was all properly soldered to form the very star-like designs and emblems that Aurelius had always been known for.

Of course, something such as this would take days-- maybe even more. Nirisch had habits on having the audacity to tell the Omnissiah to let himself rest for certain times. After all, Nirisch had usually said, Lord Aurelius would only be upset knowing you overworked yourself!

... it was then, when the time came as Nirisch studied the palms, he furrowed his brows in thought.

" My lord, for these... rubies, you had shown me-- perhaps we could also add them to the undersides of the feet as well? This could allow his power to go all throughout his body instead of being focused on his hands-- I believe it would help to give him even more control. Like... ah, a river flowing downstream, not blocked with any sort of debris. "

... Though, now he silently worried. How... would they get these rubies?

The glow of furnace-fire began to set the forge alight. Despite the size of their project, they were scarcely using a tenth of the space to work with Nirisch's scraps. Once again the cold began to dissipate and was quickly replaced by warmth, then heat; infernal heat. And so, their process began. All three of their chosen metals were liquefied at temperatures enough to incinerate flesh in seconds. Fortunately for the two of them, there was no shortage of protective gear to keep their skins uncooked. The bones were first, poured into molds made in excited haste with the skill of ancient artisans. They were cooled, hammered, and tempered until they took on the familiar shape of rudimentary human hands. Wires were threaded between the smaller pieces, a substitute for the connective cartilage that would have held organic bone together. Then came the muscles. Each serpent was painstakingly crafted by hand, a tube of ceramite, titanium, and electrical equipment made to merge with fleshy nerves. Hours began to pass, then days. There was time for rest, time to visit Lord Aurelius and update him with their progress.

[forgottnseccnd]

@wayward40k continued from here.

And before the immaculate man was a dirtied, scarred, disheveled Primarch attached to a wall. Complete opposites, it seemed. The helmed Primarch lifted his head for a moment as if in bewilderment, yet his tone was quick to become defensive with Serge. " Curiosity? " Aurelius's voice echoed from the depths of the other's mind-- it did not boom like his Father's, but still sounded gentle even with his sudden outburst. The red emergency lights and the faint glows of the stasis field that surrounded Aurelius's broken body contrasted with the tone Serge had that Aurelius chose to deem sickly sweet.

He tried to watch Serge's movements, figure out what it was that he was doing. Yet Aurelius knew deep down he wouldn't be able to do anything... at this rate, with how things were going and Nirisch attempting to meet with a wealthy Imperial family... well, he would need to pass the time somehow.

" So you are here out of curiosity. Why? What is it that leaves you curious, Shapeshifter? "

[forgottnseccnd]

@wayward40k continued from here.

The helmed Primarch looked at Serge with a little sparkle in his eyes-- for once, he seemed to have regained some of his confidence from the olden days. It... was odd, being able to stand, to touch, to feel, away from the wall of the engines room. An auramite hand took Serge's own, shockingly gentle with his hold as he focused his mind. Perhaps he could offer some extra power, if only to make him far more tangible and give Serge some extra energy.

With his other large hand placing itself onto Serge's shoulder, the Primarch breathed out as if to calm himself. Though, he was already calm... mostly. He was only focusing his mind on Serge, trying to channel some of his own energy to the shapeshifter.

" ... Well, I will still make sure I do not step on your feet. " Aurelius hummed... and the dance began.

Understandably, Aurelius was... not the most graceful in this state. His legs often wobbled like a newborn Grox's and sometimes he nearly tripped over himself, but he kept to his word. Despite his fumbles, he didn't step on Serge's foot and made sure to move in ways where he wouldn't actually pull Serge down with him-- even if he didn't need to worry about that too much.

It was... a little odd, doing something like this. For ages, he was used to the shocking pains of volts going through his body, the mental exhaustion of trying to constantly fight the whispers of Chaos that tried so hard to tempt him... but this was... calm. Gentle.

It felt like the old days. He remembered something like this before.

A grand celebration-- music played throughout Holy Terra as the arrival of Ferrus Manus was celebrated and yet it had secretly lauded his own arrival-- Aurelius had not been one for grand parties, he was terrified of socialization of any kind back in the day from how he had been so used to his home planet of Iskaarre. He wore the best attire for it, wore his best mask. And... while perhaps a bit embarrassing, he remembered dancing with his mother while she carefully guided her son through the balldancing she learned. To impress someone now that you're like a prince! She had told him.

This was something so simple... but he cherished it. Aurelius furrowed his brows a little as he tried to continue his steps.

" Y-You are far more skilled than I. I am... out of practice. "

[forgottnseccnd]

@sanguiniusreborn continued from here.

What met the beloved Sanguinius was not fanfare, nor sons of Aurelius that hoped to cheer and welcome the Primarch on the old, decrepit ship-- what met him instead was silence. An eerie, eerie silence.

The ship, much like the rest of the Legion, seemed to have been forgotten by the world in its entirety-- yet it always lingered near the Polaris star of the Milky Way galaxy, looming, waiting to be found. There were only remains of civilization upon the large city-ship, skeletons and remnants of Heresy-era weaponry and armor. Where the Angel would have been if he was meeting the very brother behind it all, was in the engine room. And there was Aurelius.

Attached to the wall like a battery, experiencing the same fate as their very own father-- powering the ship, dormant, weakening for ten thousand years, unable to move. Arms and legs were connected to wires, tubes, cords and cables, his body heavily-scarred with some wounds still having not yet healed... and the only thing the disgraced Primarch wore was his old helmet. His glowing blue eyes met the Angel. He slumped.

" ... It has, hasn't it? " Aurelius's voice finally broke through, in the back of Sanguinius's mind, as a deep and smooth baritone.

" It had been some time, indeed. I... " A pause-- Aurelius struggled to form his words, only finding himself faltering at the end. " I... I thought you were dead... "

[forgottnseccnd]

@wayward40k continued from here.

Whenever Aurelius slept, he always felt the horrors of the Warp trying to pry open his very mind like an autopsy. He always heard the horrid cacophony of whispers from the Chaos Gods, or the murmurs of daemons that wished to try to gain favor with their masters by taking over a Primarch. Always, he battled-- day and night-- to protect what remained of his ship and his dearest friend... but this dream was different.

It was when he focused that it felt like the world around him changed from a never-ending blur of destruction to... a gentle oasis of all sorts of colors, of glowing fauna and flora, something so reminiscent of home with often the days-long nights that could occur on Iskaarre III. Icy eyes drifted about, scanning his surroundings... but even in his dreams, Aurelius couldn't move. He was not allowed such a luxury. He never allowed himself that luxury.

In this odd dreamscape, it seemed to be the Penitent One had been chained to his very own banner, stump-like arms and legs draped about like an ancient Terran martyr. He was weak, tired, yet still didn't try to remove himself from his beloved swordspear. He only hung there, the banner stabbed into the very ground like a stalwart defender, forever guarding the last line of defense if absolutely necessary. His helmed head lulled at first, yet quickly Aurelius focused on the figure that approached him.

... and Aurelius found himself staring in utter awe.

" ... i-it is no intrusion. Forgive me for the state I am in. " Aurelius's psychic voice came forth as always, a weak murmur-- it nearly sounded like he was still half-asleep, barely able to focus on the world around him besides what little he had focused on. Sometimes, his form itself seemed to flicker in his dreams. Even now, he still felt the volts going through his body.

" I... I hope you are faring well... my lady. What-- what is this... this visit for? "

[forgottnseccnd]

@askthecaptaingeneral continued from here.

A slight frown. Aurelius watched Atticus practice-- it was like a beautiful rhythm to the Primarch's eyes-- there was always a wonder he felt whenever he had seen any Custodian train or even battle, both back in the day and now that he'd returned. He was quiet, trying to figure out how to pick his words properly. On one end, he could understand his sister's anger. On the other...

A sigh. He merely stood there like an attentive serf, ready to give Atticus this little cup of tea for when he was ready. Aurelius lowered his head, thinking about it all for a moment...

" ... I cannot put much input into the matter. I know I can be very emotional, myself. Such intense bonds can be a wonderful and horrifying thing. From what little I had come to learn... while I often would preach about trading efforts with xenos such as the Aeldari-- it must be done with a mindful hand for the benefit of the Imperium... to be clouded by emotions, it can undoubtedly get people killed, but on the other side, it can save lives if the timing is right. "

" If I may ask... what... happened? "

[forgottnseccnd]

@ask-thedawnseekers continued from here.

" I do not know. " Aurelius started-- but he knew better. He knew exactly where this line of thought came from, what got him thinking that way. Hands of auramite lifted to graze Solana's wings-- as mindful can be about the plumage-- and he couldn't help but stare at them. Like a dove's... reminded him of one of his sons-- of Columba, the poor fellow.

Or the mighty wings of the double aquila.

" After ages of being on that wall, it... It had given me much time to ponder and ruminate on things. I just find myself... thinking. I hope you could forgive me for such... negative thoughts. "

Aurelius's eyes fluttered shut as he received a kiss to the forehead, his shoulders slumping while he tried so hard to figure out just what to say. How could he describe his thought process? How could he just... talk about things?

" I guess I just feel like... a child, lost in the waves of life. So many years have passed and so much has changed, yet I am just a... a relic, of sorts. Of what the Imperium used to be. "

When Aurelius was younger, far more bright-eyed-- he would have taken so much joy in looking up at the stars and divining their meanings, figuring out what exactly it was that he could do for the future of his people, his family-- of mankind. As a son of the Emperor. And yet now... when he looked at those stars, he felt like the Emperor stared back at him, disappointed. Disgusted.

He swallowed hard, and his hand lifted to subconsciously rub along one of the scars on his neck.

" ... I wish to help the Imperium, and help Mankind instead of sitting here. But I do not know if I have the strength to see Father. "

[forgottnseccnd]

To such a simple nod, Nirisch in turn nodded almost excitedly. A light formed in the servo-skull's eye, suddenly illuminating the darkness of the giant hallways of the engine deck and helping to guide the way more than the emergency lights throughout. Then, Domitus would float off, with Nirisch quick to follow after giving a rather deep bow of respect to the Slayer.

Some sparks came from exposed wires from the ceilings or walls, other machines hummed as they tried to continue their processes despite the rust that plagued their metals, the vents letting out such sickly hisses of air. The machine spirits were suffering despite all of the rituals Nirisch tried to do to help appease them, the cleansings and repairs he would do... they needed power, actual power, but any components would be long since lost after the slaughtering of the Rangda people. Nirisch nervously pulled a small thurible out from his robes while incense smoke slowly plumed from its holes, which he swung back and forth and muttered prayers in what sounded like... binary.

It took time to get to a specific engine room, Engine Room S-06. His metal hand pressed onto what seemed to be a touchscreen, scanning the metal and every little nick on his palm... and the door slid open with horrid creaks of metal. Domitus went in without hesitation, and Nirisch followed.

At first, it just seemed like one of the other rooms. Old engines that barely worked and massive batteries that would've held so many volts it would have powered whole planets, piping and wires being exposed and some steam blowing through the openings.

The difference was both the many bones of daemons on the floor... and what was on the wall.

Maybe it could be reminiscent of what Hell would do to the unfortunates. The unholy matrimony of man and machine just like with the zombies and the damned, or those left to be tortured to have their souls extracted-- this was almost just like that.

A large... torso hung from the wall. It was suspended by wires, cords and cables that were attached to his stumps where his forearms and calves would've once been and only more connected to his very spine. He was humanoid, with pale skin and a heavily-scarred body, only wearing a mere loincloth to cover himself and a helmet that would have shown status. The helmet itself had a four-pointed star, looking similar to a great helm with the placement of the eye-slits, adorned with a metal laurel and old plumage at the top of the helm that tumbled down along his shoulder. It was covered in battle scars, yet it was the one thing he had that would have shown him as a Lord. Along shoulders and biceps, all down his back-- though, of course, his back went unseen due to his positioning-- was what at first seemed like tattoos of stars and galaxies all over him... but they actually moved. They weren't just mere tattoos-- they quite literally showed where they were in the world. The Solar System, drifting aimlessly near the North star. It was a star map, like some sort of mutation.

... He was clearly human, despite his size and mutation. Judging by the one cogitator that still flickered to life, he seemed to be some sort of... heavily genetically-engineered human, like a super soldier of some sort. Glowing blue eyes peered at the Slayer through the slits of his helm. His body convulsed and jolted with every time volts passed through his body, his very life force being used to power the ship's emergency systems. And somehow, for this entire damn ship, seeming to be the size of a large asteroid like Ceres, he managed to be powerful enough to power the emergency systems.

Nirisch was just about to speak, judging by the crackling noises in what might've been his voicebox, but he quickly silenced himself and retreated to the cogitator to check over the large man's vitals. And then... a voice came forth-- not physically, but it attempted to gently prod itself into the Slayer's mind. Not forcefully, though.

It was a deep, gruff voice-- a strong and deep baritone that almost seemed to ask permission to speak psychically with him. There was still... a gentleness to the voice, mindful, careful. It only added to the larger man's presence-- it was odd. Despite his tortured form and the constant suffering he looked to be in, there was this feeling of hope that came from him. It was like looking at a shooting star and wishing for something better, or being able to run your fingers along the gentle furs of a rabbit after the constant threat of battle finally ceased.

" ... I thought I sensed something. Forgive me. I would have cleaned up if I knew of your arrival. " A little attempt at a joke. The man's gaze softened a little as he looked down to the Slayer. Nirisch bowed his head, eye squeezing shut.

" Please forgive me for my method of communication, as well. My lips have long since dried, and to open my mouth would leave them bleeding. I am Aurelius. Would I be allowed the honor of knowing who you are? "

This was all just information to him. His ramblings, no matter how much he tried to downplay it and apologize for it, were very informative to the Doom Slayer. He knew fully well that he could get this way himself... you know, if he ever talked for more than a sentence at a time. Regardless, he took in everything; the humanity of this until-recently-thought-to-be-robot, the little skull beside him.

Techpriests, the Priesthood, servo-skulls, the vessel, the Warp, Commorragh, the Onmissiah... these were all foreign concepts to him, but concepts he would tuck away for later to learn more about. Right away however there was one thing that stood out to him; Lord Aurelius. Clearly someone important, and if he's correct in that this Aurelius character could return him home... he was going to take the opportunity.

Doom Slayer nods in response, wanting to be led to Aurelius. Whoever this Lord was, or whoever this... techpriest... claimed him to be, he just hoped it was correct. Will had his own battle to fight, and he hoped he didn't get roped into another one... because he knew he wouldn't be able to turn down those in need of a helping hand.

[forgottnseccnd]

Solana approached, quietly and unsure. Her wings trembled with barely contained guilt and pain. It had been so long. "Aurelius? Sweetheart, is it truly you?"

The fingers of one hand grazed his cheek, and she gasped at his real he felt. Tears misted her eyes at the feeling. She'd never thought she'd see her old friend again.

(AskTheDawnSeekers)

@ask-thedawnseekers

His head lulled at such interaction once the stasis field lowered. The once grand Primarch hung from the wall of his very own ship in one of its forgotten engine rooms like a hunter's trophy, once in a while twitching or jolting as electricity went through him like the battery he was. The only thing that had any remnant of who he truly used to be was his helmet, with its familiar plumage and the dark blue pearlescent paints with its golden filigree and the four-pointed star on his helm.

Solana... that was a voice he had not heard in a long, long time. It took him a moment to say anything, as if he were halfway stuck in an unending dream. Tired icy eyes fixated on her as he managed to find the strength to lift his head.

" ... Is that you? " His deep voice psychically echoed, quiet, always like a gentle whisper in the back of her mind.

" Solana... how-- h-how, do you fare? "

[forgottnseccnd]

“It can’t be.. Brother.. is that you?” @primarchofthedarkangels

Aurelius gazed upon the Lion with a mix of hope and concern-- he kept his distance at first, reluctant, ready to brace himself for the concept that he would possibly be wiped out like the rest of his sons. However, it didn't keep him from still showing el'Johnson a sense of warmth. His glowing icy eyes met the other, trying to figure out how he would react.

" ... Yes. Fortunately, or unfortunately. It is me, Lion. " Aurelius spoke then, large gauntlets clasping together. He was lucky he wore his helmet, too. Otherwise, it would have shown just how anxious Aurelius was.

Awkwardly, the second Primarch added on, " You look well. "

[forgottnseccnd]

" I still remember those starry skies. Of the wondrous Hyperborean cold, the aurora borealis that lit up the very stars... and how my sons hoped to tell me which stars they hoped to be named after. "