His father's legacy?
Initially, hearing those words triggered no emotional ripple in Byrne. It felt like he was listening to someone else's story. As a transmigrator, his understanding of this "cheap old man" was limited to the fragments of the original host's memory. Since arriving in this body, he had never had any real contact with Cullen Cloud, so there was naturally no filial bond to speak of.
After a moment of hesitation, Byrne picked up the metal box and examined it closely.
The box was a dull gold, devoid of any ornate decoration except for a ring of fine, simplified machine-runes etched around the rim of the lid. It was cool to the touch and significantly heavier than it looked, clearly forged from a high-density alloy.
Byrne looked up, frowning. "Mr. Joralan, are you sure this belonged to my father?"
To Byrne, the box itself looked far too expensive for a lowly grease monkey from the slums to afford, let alone whatever was inside.
Joralan took a sip of his coffee, his gaze resting on the container. "Of course. Open it. What lies within is indeed your father's legacy."
With growing skepticism, Byrne pried the box open. His eyes widened.
The interior was lined with dark purple velvet. Nestled in a central recess was a capsule-shaped black flask about three fingers wide. The flask was also metallic, engraved with a minimalist raven icon and a "100% Purity" mark.
Through a small observation window in the flask, a walnut-sized piece of organic tissue floated in stasis fluid. The tissue was a silvery-grey, covered in fine, radiating dark veins that resembled the spread wings of a raven.
This thing...
Byrne's pupils constricted. His fingers trembled against the cold metal. This wasn't just a biological sample. The silvery texture, the wing-like patterns, and the Raven Guard heraldry on the flask pointed to one specific, terrifyingly valuable object: a Gene-Seed.
As a fan of the lore in his past life, Byrne knew exactly what this meant. It was the biological core of a Space Marine, the source of power for the Emperor's ultimate warriors. Given the markings, this was specifically the Progenoid Gland of the Raven Guard Chapter.
When this man had introduced himself as Joralan Teal, Byrne hadn't thought much of it, assuming it was just a common name. But seeing the Gene-Seed, he realized he had been catastrophically wrong.
The elegant, calm man sitting across from him was likely the current Chief Chaplain of the Raven Guard, Joralan Teal.
"Excuse me for asking," Byrne said tentatively, "but... are you the Chief Chaplain of the Raven Guard?"
Joralan remained as composed as ever. He didn't hide it or hesitate. He simply nodded, confirming his identity.
Byrne felt a roar of static in his brain. The metal box nearly slipped from his numb fingers. As one of the highest-ranking authorities in a Space Marine Chapter, Chief Chaplain Joralan Teal was a titan of the Imperium. To find such a figure running a coffee shop in Blackstone City was absurd.
To have him hand over a Raven Guard Gene-Seed was even more surreal.
The father Byrne "knew" was just a nameless mechanic drafted into the Imperial Guard years ago, a man who reportedly died on some obscure battlefield within six months. There was no way that man was connected to a legend like Joralan Teal.
After a long silence, Byrne snapped the box shut and pushed it back across the table.
"Mr. Joralan, there must be a mistake. My father was an Imperial Guard mechanic. How could he possibly have a Raven Guard Gene-Seed?"
Joralan didn't argue. He set his cup down slowly, his fingers tapping the table in a rhythmic cadence as his gaze turned distant, as if reaching back through time.
"Cullen Cloud. Mechanic, 576th Imperial Guard Reinforcement Regiment. Killed in action during the pacification of the Calixis Sector years ago. Official cause of death: rebel artillery fire. Remains unrecovered."
The information was a perfect match for Byrne's memories, which only deepened his confusion.
"If you know that, then you know he was just an ordinary man—"
"Byrne," Joralan interrupted softly, "do you truly believe the Raven Guard's intelligence network could fail to identify a simple mechanic? Your father was a mechanic, yes. But that was the least significant identity he ever held."
"The least significant?" Byrne's brow furrowed. "Mr. Joralan, you'd better speak plainly."
Joralan looked out the window. Pedestrians on Central Avenue hurried past, the Imperial Aquilas glinting coldly under the streetlamps. He paused, weighing his words.
"Your father, Cullen Cloud... his true identity was the Captain of the Honour Guard. In terms of combat prowess, he was second only to Kayvaan Shrike in the entire Chapter."
Good grief. My old man was that much of a monster?
Seeing Byrne's stunned expression, Joralan offered a small smile. "I know it is hard to believe, but it is the truth. In his day, your father was the brightest light in the Chapter. His marksmanship was supernatural, and in close-quarters combat, he had few equals. Even Chapter Master Shrike once said that Cullen's innate talent rivaled his own."
It took Byrne a long time to find his voice. "Then why did he come to a backwater planet like Kolor? Why open a tiny repair shop in the slums of Blackstone City?"
And why did he lie to me, saying the shop was an ancestral home? Old shameless liar...
Joralan stared into his swirling coffee, his eyes tinged with melancholy. "Ah, that is a long story. I wonder where I should begin?"
Byrne suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Mr. Joralan, skip the suspense. Give me the highlights."
Joralan chuckled at Byrne's bluntness.
"Very well. It all began thirty years ago... with a very special mission."