HAPPY HEART DAY, CITIZEN!
Welcome back to the pulpit, pilgrims. Since it’s that time of the solar cycle again, let’s talk about Heart Day. It’s one of those rare ancient Terran customs that managed to survive the Age of Strife, though—like a Cadian pylon after a Black Crusade—it’s looking a little worse for wear.
Imperial historians look at the ancient pict-grams of red, symmetrical hearts and, in their infinite gothic wisdom, assume they must be combat trophies. To a scribe in the segmentum archives, the idea of a Valentine isn't a gesture of affection, but instead it’s a tactical report. They’ve theorized that ancient Terrans would slay a massive beast—a Foe of Great Renown—cut out its primary pump, and present it to a prospective mate to prove they could provide enough protein for a successful brood. It’s a bit grim, even for us, but it fits the Imperial brand. After all, if it’s red and shaped like an organ, someone definitely died for it.
Even the Adeptus Mechanicus gets in on the action. For the Cog-boys, Heart Day is less about the flesh-organ and more about biometric compatibility. There's nothing like the thought of a Tech-Priest handing out a data-slate that simply reads: “Our sub-routines are 94.2% synchronized. Let us share a toasted nutrient wafer.”
High romance, indeed.
But where Heart Day truly thrives is in the Astra Militarum. In a galaxy where your average life expectancy is measured in minutes, love is just another word for unit cohesion. Forget lace and perfume. A Guardsman’s Heart Day card is usually a piece of recycled Munitorum parchment. The sentiment is a grim reminder that the person to your left is the only thing between you and a hungry Genestealer. The message? “I’d jump on a frag-grenade for you, as long as the Emperor watches.”
We’re all probably going to be corpse-starch by Tuesday anyhow
At the end of the day, Heart Day reminds us that even in a universe of endless war, we still feel the need to signal to another human being that we’re glad they’re in our foxhole. Whether you're gifting a foe's heart or just a motivational card telling your Sergeant they smell slightly less like promethium today, it’s the thought that counts.
The Emperor protects... but a sturdy squad-mate protects better.
