"At the time, we received intelligence that followers of the Great Deceiver had infiltrated a core Imperial shipyard. They sought to sabotage the construction of void-warships, or worse, use the powers of trickery to utterly warp the latest fleet being forged there.
"It was a high-stakes, black-ops mission. We couldn't deploy the Chapter's full strength without alerting the enemy or triggering a massive crisis. Thus, the Chapter Master personally ordered Cullen to lead six elites of the Honour Guard to infiltrate the facility, purge the heretics, and secure the ships.
"Initially, everything went smoothly. Cullen and his team successfully slipped in and neutralized several hidden cultists. But at the very end, as they moved to eliminate the final heretic, disaster struck."
Joralan took a slow sip of coffee, his tone heavy.
"That final heretic was no common cultist, but a Master of the Deceiver's school. He had sensed our movements long ago. Instead of fleeing, he stayed to weave a trap specifically for Cullen. Using the shipyard's core power reactor as a medium, he channeled the energies of the Warp to cast a grand illusion—a 'Deception Phantasm.'
"It wasn't a simple trick of the light. It was a surgical strike that captured the things Cullen cherished most, and the regrets he carried deepest. Before he became a Space Marine, Cullen had a lover he failed to protect. She died during a Chaos raid. That loss became his life's obsession—the very reason he joined the Ravens.
"The Master of Deception used that. He reshaped the illusion into that ancient battlefield. Over and over, Cullen saw her fall in a pool of blood while he was held back by endless cultists. No matter how he struggled, he could not reach her. He could not save her.
"Worse still, the phantom of his lover would berate him with her dying breath, over and over, cursing his cowardice and incompetence."
Byrne felt a chill run down his spine. The sheer mental devastation of such a trap was horrifying. It was like tearing open an old wound, pouring salt in, letting it heal slightly, then ripping it open again. For a Space Marine like Cullen, who had etched 'Honour' and 'Protection' into his very marrow, that sense of powerlessness was more lethal than any blade.
"The other members of the Honour Guard realized something was wrong and tried to wake him, but the phantasm was saturated with Warp corruption. Anyone who drew near was sucked in. Within moments, three elite battle-brothers were lost in their own nightmares. The remaining three could only hold the perimeter, watching helplessly as Cullen thrashed in agony."
Byrne could picture it: some of the galaxy's finest warriors, paralyzed by an invisible nightmare. That helplessness was more despairing than any open combat.
"As Captain of the Honour Guard, Cullen's willpower was titanic. After an eternity of struggle, he broke the shackles of the illusion through sheer loyalty to the Emperor and the bond with his brothers. But by the time he snapped out of it, the situation had spiraled out of control.
"While he was lost, the heretic had surreptitiously altered the core programming of a capital ship and planted Warp-tainted timed charges throughout the shipyard's power conduits. Without a second's delay, Cullen ordered the two conscious brothers to evacuate the lost ones. He took the last standing brother and charged into the reactor core.
"He had to stop the ship's corruption and disarm the bombs that would have turned the entire shipyard into a Warp Rift. To buy Cullen the time he needed, his brother used his own body to shield him from a lethal ambush by the Deceiver Master, dying on the spot.
"The final duel between Cullen and the heretic was visceral beyond imagination. Cullen won, but as the heretic died, he unleashed a Chaos curse that struck him full-force. It wasn't immediately fatal, but it was corrosive—it would slowly warp the victim's mind until they eventually became a puppet of Chaos.
"Our Apothecaries did everything they could, but they couldn't purge the stain; they could only suppress it. When Shrike learned of this, he was torn. Cullen was a hero, one of our best, but the threat of the curse was absolute. If word got out, it would spark panic within the Chapter and likely draw the attention of the Inquisition—and we know those fanatics don't believe in mercy when it comes to Warp-taint, even a potential one.
"To save Cullen's life and preserve the Chapter's stability, Shrike officially declared him 'Killed in Action.' In reality, Cullen stripped off his Terminator plate, left the Chapter, and sought out a remote world to live in exile. That is the truth. That is why your father appeared on Kolor and hid in the slums of Blackstone City."
Having finished the tale, Joralan sipped his coffee in silence, watching Byrne and waiting for him to speak.
So that was it...
Byrne sat on the sofa, feeling his blood hum. The memory of the quiet, stoic old man who spent his days hunched over machinery merged with Joralan's description of the legendary, burdened Honour Guard Captain. Two contradictory images fused into a single man.
It explained why the "old man's" mechanical skills were so uncanny. It explained why, as a child, Byrne would wake from nightmares to see his father staring out the window at the stars in a trance-like silence. It explained why he never spoke of his past or allowed any talk of the Imperial Guard or the Astartes.
Every ignored detail from his childhood now had a logical, heartbreaking explanation. His "cheap old man" was a legend who had chosen a life of quiet pain to protect his honor and his brothers.
Byrne remained silent for a long time. Finally, he looked up and held up three fingers.
"I have only three questions. I expect the truth."
His voice was steady, his gaze locked on Joralan.
"Of course," Joralan nodded slightly. "Ask. Whatever I know, I will tell you."
"Good. First question." Byrne tucked one finger away.
"As a Space Marine, my father was sterile. So why did he 'marry' my mother, and why did he adopt me?"