The Primarch of Liberty

Chapter 43: The Gorgon



The surface of Medusa shuddered as Franklin Valorian's drop pod slammed into the planet's crust, sending tremors through the already unstable ground. As the dust settled, the pod's hatch blew open with a theatrical hiss, revealing the towering figure of the Liberator.

Franklin stepped out, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the Crone Sword. In his mind, Khaine's voice echoed with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, *"When did you develop this penchant for flashy entrances, Primarch?"*

Chuckling to himself, Franklin replied mentally, "Freedom never knocks, my dear Khaine. It rings... or in this case, crashes."

"Your humor will be the death of me, "Khaine grumbled, though Franklin could sense a hint of fondness in the god's tone.

As Franklin surveyed his surroundings, his eyes fell upon a distant figure - a man who appeared as cold and unyielding as the harsh landscape of Medusa itself. Even from afar, Franklin could see that this man, undoubtedly his brother, was unimpressed by his arrival. However, what caught Franklin's attention was the intense focus his brother's gaze had on his mechsuit.

Straightening to his full height, Franklin began to walk forward. His newly added cape, adorned with the flag of the old Terran country called America, fluttered dramatically in the wind. Khaine's mental facepalm was almost audible.

As Franklin approached, he realized he slightly towered over his brother. Despite this, the other Primarch's presence was no less imposing. Franklin's trademark smirk played on his lips as he introduced himself.

"Well, hello there! Franklin Valorian, Primarch of the Liberty Eagles, at your service. And you must be the strong, silent type I've heard so much about."

The other Primarch, Ferrus Manus, remained unimpressed and cold. His voice, when he spoke, was as unyielding as the metal that coated his arms. "Your words mean nothing here. Only strength has value on Medusa."

Without further preamble, Ferrus issued a direct challenge to fight. Franklin couldn't help but hold the bridge of his nose, suppressing a sigh. Internally, he categorized this brother alongside Leman Russ - the 'punch first, ask questions later' type.

"Perhaps the next brother you find will be more... conversational, "Khaine suggested, a hint of sarcasm in his mental voice.

"One can only hope," Franklin muttered. "Someone like Horus would be nice. You know, someone I can actually talk to without having to dodge punches."

As if on cue, Ferrus swung his metallic fist towards Franklin. The Liberator dodged with practiced ease, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to move faster than the eye could follow.

"Whoa there, brother! I usually prefer a drink before dancing, but if this is how you want to bond, who am I to argue?"

Ferrus growled in response, launching into a full assault. The fight began in earnest, the two demigods clashing with earth-shattering force. Mountains crumbled under their blows, the ground tore beneath their feet as they grappled and struck at one another.

Franklin, true to his sense of fair play, refrained from using the Crone Sword. If Ferrus was fighting with his bare hands (albeit metallic ones), then Franklin would do the same.

As they fought, Franklin's mind raced, analyzing his brother's fighting style, searching for weaknesses, and contemplating the implications of this encounter.

"Primarch," Khaine's voice cut through his thoughts, "there's something... unusual about your brother's hands."

Franklin, ducking under a particularly vicious swing, took a moment to focus on Ferrus's metallic appendages. "What do you mean, unusual? Besides the obvious, of course."

"The technology... it's not of human origin. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it bears a striking resemblance to Necron technology."

This revelation almost caused Franklin to miss a step, nearly catching a blow to the jaw. He recovered quickly, using the momentum to flip backwards and create some distance between himself and Ferrus.

"Necron tech? Are you sure?" Franklin's mind whirled with the implications. The Necrons were an ancient and terrifyingly advanced race. If Ferrus had somehow acquired their technology, it could be a game-changer for the Imperium... or a potential threat.

"As sure as I can be without a closer examination," Khaine replied. "The question is, does he know? And if so, how did he come by it?"

Franklin's eyes narrowed as he studied his brother anew. Ferrus was a juggernaut of strength and determination, but there was more to him than met the eye. The mystery of his metallic arms added a layer of complexity to an already intriguing figure.

"Well, well, brother," Franklin called out, a glint of curiosity in his eyes, "those are some interesting upgrades you've got there. Care to share where you picked them up? I know a great manicurist back on Nova Libertas who'd love to get her hands on that tech."

Ferrus's response was another flurry of blows, each powerful enough to shatter adamantium. "If you have time for jests, you're not fighting hard enough!"

As Franklin weaved and dodged, he couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and concern for his brother. Ferrus was undoubtedly powerful, his dedication to strength admirable. But there was a rigidity to him, a lack of adaptability that Franklin sensed could be problematic in the long run.

"He sees strength in terms of the physical," Khaine observed. "He hasn't yet grasped that true power comes in many forms."

Franklin nodded mentally, using a momentary lull in Ferrus's assault to launch a counterattack of his own. His fists, empowered by his Primarch physiology and further

enhanced by his mechsuit, struck with precision and force.

"You're not wrong, Khaine. But then again, that's why we're here, isn't it? To help our brothers see beyond their limitations."

As the fight continued, Franklin found himself enjoying the challenge despite the circumstances. There was something refreshing about the raw, physical contest, so different from the political maneuvering and strategic planning that often occupied his time. Still, he knew this couldn't go on indefinitely. Sooner or later, one of them would have to yield, or they'd risk causing irreparable damage to the planet and possibly each other. "Alright, brother," Franklin called out, his voice carrying over the sound of their combat, "I think we've established that we're both pretty tough cookies. How about we call this a draw and move on to more productive activities? I hear building bridges is great for bonding. Literal and metaphorical ones!"

Ferrus paused, his metallic fists still raised. For a moment, Franklin thought he might reject the offer and continue the fight. But then, slowly, Ferrus lowered his hands.

"You fight well," Ferrus admitted, a grudging respect in his voice. "Perhaps... perhaps there is more to you than empty words and flashy entrances...nice suit"

Franklin's face split into a wide grin. "High praise indeed! And here I was thinking you didn't like me." He extended a hand towards Ferrus. "So, what do you say we start over? Hi, I'm Franklin, your long-lost brother who's really hoping you know a good place to get a drink around here. All this fighting's left me parched."

For the first time since their encounter began, something that might have been a smile tugged at the corners of Ferrus's mouth. He clasped Franklin's offered hand with his metallic one. "Ferrus Manus. And while Medusa is not known for its hospitality, I believe we can find something to quench your thirst, brother."

As the Brothers walked, The harsh landscape of Medusa trembled once more, this time not from the clash of Primarchs but from the arrival of an even greater power. Franklin's communicator crackled to life, Sovereign's synthetic voice cutting through the planet's thin

atmosphere.

"Primarch, urgent update: The Emperor's Battlefleet has entered real space. His Majesty is on an intercept course. Arrival imminent in 3... 2... 1..."

Before Franklin could fully process the information, a blinding flash of golden light erupted

before them. As it faded, two figures stood where moments ago there had been nothing but barren rock. One, a towering presence that radiated power and authority - the Emperor of Mankind himself. Beside him stood the statuesque form of Constantin Valdor, Captain-

General of the Legio Custodes.

Franklin's face split into a wide grin. "Well, if it isn't Pops himself! And here I thought we'd

have to send out party invitations."

The Emperor's gaze, however, was fixed upon Ferrus Manus. His eyes, wells of ancient wisdom and unfathomable power, studied the newly found Primarch with intense scrutiny. Franklin could almost feel the unspoken communication passing between his father and

newly-found brother.

Sensing that this was a moment best left uninterrupted, Franklin turned his attention to Constantin Valdor. With the same jovial energy he approached everything, he strode towards

the Captain-General, arms spread wide.

"Constantin, my man! Still rocking that golden look, I see. Very chic!"

As Franklin attempted to throw an arm across Valdor's shoulders, the Custodian deftly sidestepped, leaving Franklin's arm to swing through empty air.

"Aw, come on, Constantin. Don't leave me hanging!" Franklin laughed, making another attempt that Valdor once again evaded with practiced ease.

Franklin clutched his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me, Constantin. And here I thought we were besties." He turned to the Emperor, who was still engaged in silent communion with Ferrus. "Dad, can you believe this guy? I try to show a little brotherly love, and he acts like

I've got the plague."

The Emperor, without breaking his gaze from Ferrus, replied with a hint of amusement in his psychic voice, "Franklin, perhaps it would be wise to respect Constantin's personal space." "Et tu, Pops?" Franklin sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. I'll keep my hands to myself. But I'm telling you, Constantin, you're missing out on some quality Primarch hugs. They're therapeutic, you know."

Valdor remained stoic, his voice betraying no emotion. "I assure you, Lord Primarch, that my training has prepared me for all manner of threats. I doubt your... hugs... would prove more

challenging than what I've already faced."

Franklin's eyebrows shot up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Is that a challenge, Constantin? Because let me tell you, my bear hugs are legendary. Just ask Leman - last time we arm- wrestled, I nearly squeezed the wolf right out of him!"

"I would rather not, Lord Primarch," Valdor replied, his tone making it clear the subject was

closed. Franklin shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "You know, Constantin, for someone who

spends so much time with Dad, you'd think some of his sense of humor would have rubbed off

on you by now."

"The Emperor's wit is as vast as his wisdom, Lord Primarch. It is not for me to attempt to

emulate it."

"Now that's where you're wrong, my gold-plated friend," Franklin said, wagging a finger. "Humor isn't about emulation - it's about finding joy in the absurdity of life. And let's face it, in a galaxy as crazy as ours, there's plenty of absurdity to go around."

Valdor's response was as dry as the Medusa desert. "I shall take that under advisement, Lord

Primarch."

Suddenly, Ferrus stepped forward, his voice a low rumble. "Emperor," he began, eyes locked

on the Master of Mankind, "I see now why my brother speaks of you with such... colorful language. But words mean little on Medusa. Here, only strength has value."

The air seemed to thicken with tension as Ferrus continued, "I challenged my brother to

prove his worth. Now, I extend the same challenge to you. Prove to me that you are worthy of the strength you claim, of the empire you seek to build."

A heavy silence fell over the group. Franklin's eyes darted between his father and his newly-

found brother, a mix of amusement and concern playing across his features. "Oh boy," he muttered under his breath, "talk about déjà vu."

The Emperor regarded Ferrus for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. "Very well, my son," his voice resonated with power that seemed to shake the very core of Medusa. "If this is the path to understanding between us, then so be

it."

As the Emperor stepped forward to meet Ferrus's challenge, Franklin sidled up to Valdor once more. "So, Constantin, my stoic friend. Care to place a friendly wager on the outcome?" Valdor's response was as swift as it was predictable. He smoothly stepped aside, maintaining his distance from the exuberant Primarch. "I do not engage in such frivolities, Lord Franklin. And I would advise against treating this moment with levity. It is a pivotal encounter." Franklin chuckled, shaking his head. "Always so serious, Valdor. But you're right about one thing - this is indeed a pivotal moment." His voice took on a more thoughtful tone as he watched his father and brother prepare to clash. "You know, it's fascinating. Ferrus seeks to

understand through strength, through physical prowess. It's admirable, in its way, but also limiting."

Valdor regarded Franklin with a hint of surprise, perhaps reassessing the Primarch's depths. "And how would you seek understanding, Lord Franklin?"

A sly smile played on Franklin's lips. "Oh, you know me, Valdor. I prefer a good joke, a shared

laugh. Maybe a drink or two. You'd be surprised how much you can learn about someone over a well-timed quip."

As they spoke, the clash between the Emperor and Ferrus began in earnest. The ground shook

with the force of their blows, the air crackled with psychic energy. It was a sight to behold -

the Master of Mankind, holding back his true power, meeting the raw strength and determination of Ferrus Manus blow for blow.

Franklin watched as Ferrus was thrown through Several mountains.

The Emperor, his father, was engaged in combat with Ferrus Manus, and the sheer power on

display was enough to reshape the planet's surface.

As Ferrus was hurled through yet another mountain, the impact sending tremors through the

ground beneath Franklin's feet, he couldn't help but wince sympathetically. "Well," Franklin mused mentally to Khaine, "I think we can safely say that challenging Pops

to a fight might not have been our wisest course of action. Looks like it's not exactly a walk in the park, eh?" Khaine's response was a dismissive scoff that echoed through Franklin's mind. "You underestimate me, Primarch. I am the God of War, the Bloody-Handed One. I could certainly hold my own against your 'Pops' at my peak."

Franklin's mental eye-roll was almost palpable. "Right, because your track record against

other deities is so stellar. Remind me again, how did that scuffle with Khorne work out for

you?"

The psychic equivalent of a growl reverberated through their shared consciousness. "That was... different. The Aeldari had stopped worshipping us at that point and Khorne caught me off guard. It won't happen again."

"Uh-huh," Franklin thought back, his mental tone dripping with sarcasm. "And I'm sure the Emperor, who probably wrestles Chaos Gods for his morning workout, would be a cakewalk." As if to emphasize Franklin's point, the Emperor smacked Ferrus so hard that sent Ferrus

careening through the air, smashing through not one, not two, but three mountain peaks

before coming to a stop. "Ouch,"Franklin winced. "That's going to leave a mark. You know, for all your bravado, my dear Khaine, I don't recall you ever manhandling a Primarch quite like that." Khaine's response was indignant. "I never had the opportunity! Besides, your father is...

uniquely powerful. It's an unfair comparison."

Franklin's mental chuckle was warm with amusement. "Oh? What happened to 'I could

certainly hold my own'? Having second thoughts about challenging the old man now?"

"I'm merely... reassessing the situation, "Khaine grumbled. "A true warrior knows when to pick his battles."

"Ah, yes," Franklin thought back, his mental voice laden with mock seriousness. "And I'm

sure it has nothing to do with the fact that Pops just used Ferrus to redecorate Medusa's landscape. I mean, who needs mountains anyway? So passé."

As they bantered, the battle continued to rage. The Emperor, his golden aura pulsing with barely contained power, met each of Ferrus's savage blows with calculated precision. It was clear to Franklin that his father was holding back, testing Ferrus rather than seeking to defeat

him outright. "You have to admit," Franklin mused to Khaine, "Pops has style. Look at how he's guiding the fight, shaping it. He's not just battling Ferrus; he's teaching him."

Khaine's response held a note of grudging respect. "Indeed. Your father is... impressive. His mastery of combat is undeniable although he shows movements like an Aeldari Autarch" "High praise indeed, coming from you,perhaps pop trained under one or something" Franklin

thought back. "Should I be worried? Are you developing a little god-crush on my old man?" The psychic equivalent of a snort echoed through their link. "Don't be absurd, Primarch. I merely appreciate skill where I see it. It doesn't change the fact that I could still-" "Still what?"Franklin interrupted, his mental tone teasing. "Take him on? Go toe-to-toe

with the Master of Mankind? The guy who's currently using a Primarch as his personal ping- pong ball?" As if on cue, the Emperor landed a particularly powerful blow, sending Ferrus hurtling across

the landscape. The Primarch crashed through a series of rock formations before skidding to a halt, leaving a trench in his wake.

Franklin continued, "I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, challenging Pops wasn't

on Ferrus's list of 'Top 10 Great Ideas'. What do you reckon, oh Bloody-Handed One? Care to

give it a go yourself? I'm sure Pops would be happy to pencil you in for a friendly spar after

he's done rearranging the geography with our dear brother."

Khaine's silence was telling.

"No takers?"Franklin pressed, his mental voice rich with amusement. "Come on, where's that

warrior spirit? That god-of-war bravado? Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." "I am merely... conserving my strength, I shall challenge once I'm complete" Khaine replied, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "A true warrior knows the value of patience." Franklin's mental laughter rang out. "Oh, of course! Patience. That's definitely what it is. Nothing at all to do with the fact that Pops is out there demonstrating why he's the Emperor of Mankind and not, say, the Emperor of Slightly Impressive Card Tricks." As their banter continued, the battle below reached a fever pitch. The Emperor, his

movements a blur of golden light, pressed his advantage. Ferrus, despite his incredible strength and determination and Iron hands, found himself increasingly on the defensive. Franklin mused, his tone becoming more serious, "for all our joking, this is quite the

spectacle. The raw power, the skill... it's something else." Khaine's response was thoughtful. "Indeed. Your father's might is... considerable. And yet, he restrains himself. He could end this fight in an instant if he wished."

"But that's not the point, is it?" Franklin replied. "This isn't about defeating Ferrus. It's

about teaching him, showing him something beyond mere strength."

"A lesson in humility, perhaps, "Khaine observed. "Or a demonstration of the heights yet to

be reached."

Franklin nodded mentally. "Exactly. Pops isn't just fighting; he's guiding. Showing Ferrus that there's always more to learn, always room to grow."

As they watched, the Emperor finally brought the battle to a close. With a move of breathtaking speed and precision, he disarmed Ferrus, sending the Primarch crashing to the ground. The impact shook the very foundations of Medusa.

In the ringing silence that followed, Franklin couldn't help but feel a mix of awe andn/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

anticipation. This was just the beginning, he realized. The start of something grand and terrible and wonderful all at once.

"Well," he thought to Khaine, "I think it's safe to say that family reunions in this household

are never going to be boring."

Khaine's response was dry. "Indeed. Though perhaps, in the future, we should suggest less... destructive bonding activities."

Franklin's mental laughter was bright and unrestrained. "Oh, I don't know. Nothing says 'welcome to the family' quite like reshaping a planet's geography. But you might be right.

Next time, maybe we'll suggest a nice game of chess. Or possibly Monopoly. I hear Pops is quite the property tycoon."

As the dust settled on the battlefield below, Franklin prepared himself to join his father and newly-humbled brother. Whatever came next, he knew one thing for certain: the future of the Imperium was going to be anything but dull.

Franklin

then turned to Constantine Valdor to his side watching with interest, "You know, Valdor," Franklin said, his voice uncharacteristically serious, "I can't help but wonder about the challenges that lie ahead. This grand crusade of Father's, the brothers I've yet to meet, the

threats we'll face... it's going to be one hell of a ride."

Valdor turned to regard the Primarch, perhaps seeing him in a new light. "Your levity hides

depths, Lord Franklin. The path ahead is indeed fraught with challenges."

Franklin's trademark grin returned. "Well, my golden friend, that's why we've got to stick together, isn't it? United we stand, divided we fall, and all that jazz." He made one last attempt to sling his arm over Valdor's shoulders. "So, what do you say? Friends?" With a grace that almost seemed apologetic, Valdor once again sidestepped Franklin's attempt at physical camaraderie. "I would say, Lord Franklin, that I have a deeper appreciation for your unique approach to brotherhood. But I still prefer to maintain my personal space."

Franklin's laughter rang out across the battlefield of Medusa, a stark contrast to the intense duel still unfolding before them. "Oh, Valdor, you really are something else. But mark my

words, one of these days, I'll get you to loosen up. Maybe I'll even see you crack a smile!" A/N: Anada Chapter