Ryan stood on the field path, wiping the sweat from his forehead, and looked towards his distant home.
As an ordinary farmer on one of Macragge's Five Hundred Worlds, the return home at dusk was the moment he looked forward to most every day.
After countless years of cultivation, this land was not fertile.
Coupled with the Imperium's endless Wars leading to resource shortages, even within the flourishing Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, basic production was barely maintained.
Ryan's family consisted of six people: his aging father, his honest younger brother, his gentle wife, and two vibrant children. Although life was frugal, being able to eat and stay warm in the War-torn Galaxy was an extremely rare blessing.
He believed all this was due to the Emperor's grace and Lord Guilliman's protection.
Every night before sleep, Ryan would lead his whole family to kneel before a simple Shrine, bowing and praying to the Golden Statue.
The radiance of the Emperor and the Primarch gave them hope and strength through countless nights.
"Father, I completed ten laps around the village again today," his son, Little Allen, always rushed to report his training progress. Ryan rubbed the child's hair with satisfaction.
Allen possessed a unique talent, which reminded Ryan of his own older brother who had left home many years ago.
Ryan's brother was once the family's pride. He possessed the special physique that their family had dreamed of for generations and was selected by the Ultramarines to be taken away for recruitment.
The whole village saw him off that day.
Then, there was no news.
Initially, the whole family was very worried.
But Faith gave them strength, and the passing of time and busy life eventually diluted the memory.
Ordinary farmers did not have the extra energy to worry about a relative who might have already died in War.
Just surviving had exhausted all their strength.
Fortunately, the bloodline continued; his son inherited that family's special talent.
Lately, in addition to his daily labor, Ryan always took time to train his son, hoping that one day he could also join the ranks of the Astartes.
"If you become an Astartes, don't forget to look up your Uncle's whereabouts," Ryan would instruct his son after every training session.
Ryan was still quite satisfied with his life.
In fact, with his talent, he could have participated in the Ultramarines selection, but unfortunately, he suffered from a hereditary Gene Defect in the family since childhood.
He, his father, and his brother all had this defect: their blood clotting ability was slightly insufficient.
In a peaceful society, this symptom might only be a minor ailment.
But in the constantly warring Imperium, this defect was extremely Lethal.
This also prevented them from undergoing the Astartes transformation. A single modification could result in fatal Blood Loss.
Ryan occasionally pondered the nature of this "Gene Defect." Perhaps it was not a true Disease, but an unawakened Potential.
The traits exhibited by the rare lucky few in their family—his brother and son—might be another manifestation of this Gene Defect: they possessed super Clotting Ability.
Their Wounds not only clotted quickly, but their Blood could also transport Nutrients and Oxygen more efficiently, making their Physical Qualities far surpass those of ordinary people.
According to family tradition passed down orally, their ancestors had a glorious period.
Over ten thousand years, their family provided quite a bit of fresh Blood to the Ultramarines Chapter.
However, in the recent few millennia, Awakened Individuals became increasingly rare.
Worse, many clan members completely lost their Clotting Ability, leading to the family's gradual decline.
But now, the appearance of Awakened Individuals in two consecutive generations rekindled Hope for Ryan's family. This must be the Will of the God-Emperor, a reward for their family's Loyalty.
Ryan tirelessly trained his son every day. Soaking in the cold Pool in the morning, running with weights under the midday Sun, and practicing Hand-to-Hand Combat in the evening. Everything was to prepare for the cruel selection process that lay ahead.
"The Emperor needs the strongest Warriors, Allen," Ryan would say whenever his son thought of slacking off.
His son would solemnly nod, then regain his resolve.
The child seemed to understand the Responsibility he carried and the unique Destiny that awaited him.
The parents of other children in the village often looked at them with Envy. In everyone's eyes, contributing offspring to the Emperor was the Supreme Glory, far more worth being proud of than farming.
Ryan leaned against the wooden fence, gazing at the distant Starry Sky.
There were countless Worlds there, with never-ending Wars, where the Emperor's Subjects and Angels fought desperately. Perhaps his brother was fighting for the Imperium of Man on some distant Planet.
One day, his son would embark on the same Campaign.
Today, as usual, the Sun gradually set in the west, and Ryan shouldered his Farm Tools and headed home.
The Emperor be praised; they had safely passed another day, and he and his family might even be able to enjoy a slightly richer Dinner.
Ryan felt satisfied. In this unstable Universe, being able to live simply, believe in the Emperor, and cultivate a Warrior for the future was a great Honor.
This was his life—a happiness that billions of ordinary citizens of the Imperium could only dream of.
When the Sun rose tomorrow, he would continue farming, continue training his son, and continue praying.
When Ryan reached his door, he saw that it was wide open.
He stopped, his brow furrowing in Alarm.
Burglary was uncommon in this Agricultural World; the Planet's Law punished such crimes extremely severely, with on-the-spot Execution being the bare minimum consequence.
He set down the Farm Tools from his shoulder and cautiously approached his wooden hut.
'The door was opened from the inside.'
Ryan examined the Lock and the Door Frame; there were no signs of forced entry.
This slightly relieved him, but also made him more confused.
His family would not leave the door wide open for no reason, especially in this Season, when flying Insects would seize the chance to enter the house.
He quieted his footsteps and stepped over the threshold, then froze instantly, as if struck by Lightning.
A Behemoth clad in Blue Power Armor was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his humble Living Room. The shining Power Armor emitted a faint White Light in the dim wooden hut.
It was an Ultramarine! An Angel of the Emperor!
Ryan almost fell to his knees.
The Astartes Monk was talking quietly with Ryan's Father, whose aged hand tightly gripped the Warrior's Armored Gauntlet, tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks.
Even more shocking to Ryan, this Imperial Super Soldier had freed a hand to gently tease his five-year-old Daughter.
The little girl, completely unafraid, giggled and tried to grab the shining Rivets on the armored Gauntlet.
Ryan's son, Allen, stood nearby, his eyes shining with Fanatical Adoration, yet his entire body was tense with Nervousness.
The Door Frame emitted a faint creaking sound, and the eyes of everyone in the room turned toward Ryan.
The Astartes slowly turned his Head to look at Ryan.
In that moment, Ryan felt his Heart almost stop beating.
That face, though firmer and covered in Scars, was startlingly similar to the face in his memory.
"Brother?" Ryan's voice trembled; he could barely believe his eyes. The man before him was indeed his older brother, Rick.
"Brother, long time no see." The Astartes's voice was deep like Thunder, but carried obvious Affection.
Ryan stumbled forward a few steps, wanting to embrace his long-lost older brother, but stopped half a meter away, unsure if he was permitted to touch this Warrior of the Emperor.
Rick smiled, and actively reached out his Arm to pull Ryan into a hug.
The action was very gentle; Rick was careful not to accidentally break Ryan's Ribs.
"I thought you were dead long ago," Ryan choked out.
"I nearly was," Rick released his brother, and pointed to the Armor on his body, "This is already the third set of Armor I've worn."