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Peto Soneka did not want to be here.
The here in question was, at the moment, a damp cave 4,000 feet below the surface of Eskador during an active orbital bombardment. And while Soneka had a great many reasons to want to be anywhere but his current location, including but not limited to the dark, the humidity, and the very real chance that the ceiling would collapse and bury them beneath thousands of tons of rock and dirt, that was not quite what was on his mind.
Peto Soneka did not want to leave his Dancers, he did not want to join the Alpha Legion, and he most certainly did not want to bear witness to the potential extinction of humanity, inadvertently becoming one of the only people in the world that could stop it.
But unfortunately for him, he had in fact done all of those things.
“Het, what do you think?”
Peto Soneka looked up from where he had been staring at the ground, contemplating where exactly his life went so wrong, and into the ever-so-slightly-more-green-than-blue eyes of the Primarch of the Alpha Legion.
Most baseline humans would be struck speechless with awe in the presence of a Primarch, and then probably struck dead with any number of nasty things for existing in their presence.
Soneka just blinked. He was used to it.
What an honor, Ingo Pech had said years ago, to be advisor to a primarch. Soneka had never been sure if the comment was sarcastic or not.
Regardless, it was an honor he did not want and had not asked for, and he had said as much the first time they had brought him to a strategy meeting. One of them had snapped at him, and the other had just laughed.
Bastards, the both of them.
Soneka rubbed his eyes, palm catching on the line of aquamarine scales that trailed down from the corner of his eye like tears.
It might be better if he had anything to say from time to time, but honestly most of the things the Alpha Legion got involved in were way above his level. He had mostly just sat on the sidelines and watched as the Primarchs formulated a plan to save humanity from a threat most didn’t even know existed.
He didn’t like it. It made him feel useless.
At the very least, the twins never seemed to mind. And so Soneka responded as he often did.
“I think I didn’t understand a word you’ve just said.”
Omegon scoffed.
“Just follow me. And don’t get left behind.”
It was Omegon Soneka followed, he knew at least that much these days. The other one, Alpharius, the one with the ever-so-slightly-more-blue-than-green eyes and the sad smile had gone to Pluto during the Heresy and never come back. Omegon said that he had died there, and Soneka was inclined to believe him.
It was after Pluto that the legion began its strange journey, battering loyalist legions and ships everywhere it found them as it sped towards some unknown and unseen destination.
It was after Pluto that Omegon began to withdraw, foregoing the detailed briefings that had been common before and locking himself away for weeks on end only to emerge with the legion’s newest target and plan already in hand. The few times Soneka had seen the Primarch he had been decidedly off, talking in circles to himself, and pausing frequently as if to listen to someone who wasn’t there.
At times it had seemed as though Soneka was the only one to notice the change in the Primarch, as though the rest of the legion had been rendered blind and deaf to Omegon’s unraveling. Then again, the twins had always been masters at making others believe whatever they wanted.
Maybe Soneka was the only one in the legion that Omegon had chosen to show his turmoil to.
Soneka didn’t like that thought.
As they descended through the tunnels of the cave and the rhythmic rumbling of the orbital bombardment in the background began to fade slowly away, Omegon began to speak again.
“I’m going to have to extend your commission, het.”
Soneka almost laughed at the absurdity of the sentence. There were no ‘commissions’ in the Alpha Legion, there couldn’t be with the sensitivity of their operations.
“I thought I was meant to serve until I got killed. Is there some retirement program I’m being kicked out of?”
Omegon stopped walking and narrowed his eyes.
“The retirement program is death. With Alpharius…” Omegon had to stop for a moment at his twin’s name, steadying his breathing before beginning again, “The two of us are the last witnesses alive to the future that awaits if The Dark King is allowed to awaken. I cannot lose such a valuable asset.”
Soneka swallowed, throat suddenly dry despite the dampness of the air.
Omegon turned, looking Soneka dead in the eyes.
“I will need to modify your body. Heavily, by means both technological and sorcerous in nature. You will outlive every friend you will ever make, every lover you will ever have. You will stay by my side for eternity if need be.”
In the overwhelming darkness of the cave, Omegon almost reminded Soneka of the demons he had gotten a glimpse of on the Warmaster’s ship. With his face hidden in shadow save piercing eyes, glimmers of light catching and winking out on the scales of his armor, Omegon looked more akin to a denizen of the warp, half substance and half nightmare.
Maybe, if he could go back, Soneka would make a different choice. Maybe, if he found himself lying on those dunes, on the edge of something he could barely even begin to comprehend, he would stay loyal to the world that had raised him, and die an honest man. It wouldn’t matter that he wasn’t here. If he died on those sands it would be Rukhsana, or Bronzi, or Shere here in these tunnels instead.
But that wasn’t what had happened. Soneka signed away his life a long time ago. He didn’t have any choice in the matter.
“I’ll follow you to the end. I’ll hate it, but I’ll follow.”
A tension, so subtle Soneka hadn’t even noticed it was there lifted from Omegon’s shoulders as he spoke, as if the Primarch had been afraid he might say no. That Soneka of all people would choose death over servitude.
“Hydra Dominatus.”
“Yeah.”
Omegon turned and walked further into the darkness.
Soneka followed.