The Emperor's voice shook the area, carrying a trace of sorrow.
It was not a question. It sounded more like an outpouring of emotion. He had long since stopped holding out any hope for that rebellious son.
Everyone looked toward Horus. They all wanted to know what the traitor, the Dark Emperor, would say to the Emperor at the very end.
Horus did not keep cursing. Nor did he beg for forgiveness.
He remained silent for a while. At last, he lowered his head and said in a firm voice, "I have nothing more to say. Please, do it quickly."
This Dark Emperor was that proud. Even now, he refused to submit.
He knew his crimes were unforgivable, so he chose a swift death to end this humiliating fate.
"Ah, what a mess. A family tragedy…" Eden sighed, struggling to hold back his own emotions.
Guilliman, Vulkan, and the other loyalist primarchs, as well as Mortarion and the other Hell Primarchs, said nothing.
Everyone knew what kind of end their former brother was about to face. No matter what, it still left a bitter taste.
But regardless, Horus had earned his fate. Death was already the most merciful outcome.
"I will not kill you."
The Emperor raised his head slightly and signaled for the Custodians to take this rebellious son into custody. "You will be dealt with under Imperial law and receive the judgment you deserve…"
After Horus was escorted away by the Custodians, the scene fell silent once more.
The Emperor calmed himself and looked toward the primarchs present—his sons.
When he saw Mortarion and the other Hell Primarchs, anger rose in him all over again.
Bzzzt.
A fierce radiance of psychic power erupted.
"You disobedient wretches. Look at what hideous things you have become!"
The Emperor's temper flared. Golden psychic arcs crawled across his body as this stern old father began charging up his psychic backhand and Seven Wolves belt.
Of course, he knew that these Hell Primarchs were now followers of the King of Hell. He knew they were closely tied to the Imperium, and could even be counted among humanity's most steadfast allies.
But the moment he saw Mortarion—and especially the sorry state of Fulgrim and the others—he simply could not hold back.
Even if these sons were now allies of the Imperium and obeyed its laws, their evil, ugly appearances were still impossible for the Emperor to accept.
How was this any different from coming home to find your child covered in tattoos, wearing a nose ring, sporting a head of green hair, and tearing up the street outside the house on a ghost-fire scooter?
That shamelessly flamboyant bastard Fulgrim had even pierced his chest. It was absurd beyond belief. He was one step away from shouting, "Old man, watch my ghost-fire ride!" and then demanding cash to spend.
For the Emperor, a severe old father whose word had once been law, this was intolerable.
In short, the Emperor was furious. Out of habit, he wanted to bring down the psychic backhand and the Seven Wolves belt to properly teach these rebellious sons a lesson.
At the very least, they needed a beating.
Although he had lost the Sacred Sun, he was still a Perpetual and one of humanity's mightiest psykers. Teaching a few primarchs a lesson was still within his power.
A chaotic family melodrama was about to unfold in the Golden Throne chamber.
In fact, similar scenes had already played out several times before. Each time, the Chaos primarchs had trembled in fear, crying for their fathers and mothers.
The Emperor's psychic backhand and Seven Wolves belt were poised to strike. He stared at the Hell Primarchs, ready at any moment to stop those rebellious sons from fleeing.
This time, however, the Emperor realized something was different. The Hell Primarchs, for once, did not run. Nor did they tremble.
"Father, we are loyal. We are sons of the Imperium, not heretics or rebels.
"We followed the Savior and fought for the Imperium, for humanity!
"Would you truly punish a loyal son?!"
Mortarion, the Hell Primarch most thoroughly influenced in the dream, straightened his back as if he had suffered some terrible injustice.
His voice was full of grief, indignation, and loyalty. He even dared to stand against the Emperor, his old father.
I have bled for the Imperium!
"Heh. We are allies of the Imperium now, after all. We have never harmed another human since, and we even saved several civilized worlds."
Fulgrim pinched his fingers delicately as he spoke, without the slightest trace of his former cringing fear before the Emperor.
As for the Alpharius brothers and Magnus, they also straightened their backs and met the Emperor's gaze as loyal men, showing no fear whatsoever.
???!
The Emperor nearly choked when he heard that. These rebellious sons who had fallen to Chaos were turning the world upside down.
His expression darkened further as he stared at those Chaos-corrupted traitors, genuinely astonished.
Who had given them this courage?
In the next moment, the Master of Mankind realized exactly who had given these Chaos traitors their courage.
It was that boy Eden.
In his field of view, Mortarion and the other Hell Primarchs were all standing behind the Savior, backs straight, utterly unafraid of the Emperor.
They might as well have been shouting:
Old man, the Savior has our backs now!
The Hell Primarchs realized that the Emperor had already lost that cursed power. If the brothers joined forces, it was no longer certain who would beat whom.
More importantly, they had the Savior, the King of Hell's first champion, as their backer. This was the same being who had beaten the Dark Emperor into the ground.
Magnus even suspected that the Savior had an even closer relationship with the King of Hell.
But no matter what, they, the chosen of Hell, were on the Savior's side. So they silently united to resist the authority of the Emperor, that stern father.
Of course, the Hell Primarchs did not want to betray anyone. They simply wanted to stand up to the Emperor's authority.
They never again wanted to be hung up and whipped with the Seven Wolves belt.
What humiliation that would be!
"Father, Mortarion and the others have already been punished and returned to the Imperium. In the future, they will expand our territory in the Warp and resist the incursions of Chaos.
"Perhaps you should reconsider," Perturabo said, seizing the opportunity to advise him.
"Father, what you need most now is rest. If these fellows make any mistakes, the Savior and we will teach them a proper lesson."
Guilliman also spoke up, respectfully trying to persuade the Emperor not to act.
This Ultramarine primarch, Lord of Ultramar, was very clearly standing on the Savior's side and quietly shielding those Hell Primarchs.
After that, the other primarchs present also spoke one after another, advising the Emperor, the father of the primarchs.
At the same time, they expressed where they stood: they supported the Savior.
At that moment, almost every primarch was supporting the Savior. Whether deliberately or not, they were all saying that the Emperor, in his old age, should rest properly and leave the affairs of the Imperium to them.
For that reason, the Imperial primarchs did not hesitate to protect the Hell Primarchs, lest they be thrashed by the Emperor's psychic backhand and Seven Wolves belt.
To the primarchs, this was not only for the sake of the Hell Primarchs. It was also for themselves.
After all, if the Emperor could beat the Hell Primarchs today, he might beat them tomorrow. Worse, he might use this to reestablish his authority and take control of the Imperium again.
They understood their old father's temper far too well. If they disagreed with him, they would get a scolding first, then punishment and humiliation.
That included, but was not limited to, public rebukes, being forced to kneel, being beaten directly, or even having their Legions punished.
Although the Emperor's temper was much better now, and he was no longer the tyrant he had once been, who could guarantee he would not change again after regaining power?
They were mighty primarchs, after all—grown men more than ten thousand years old.
If the Emperor started making them kneel whenever he felt like it, or pinned them to the ground and whipped them, where would they put their dignity?
"It really is better to follow Brother Savior. Wine, meat, freedom to do what we want, and no need to live in fear."
That was what the Khan thought.
Compared with the Emperor, the Savior gave the primarchs ample respect, and he was especially generous.
Who would not love that kind of Imperial Emperor? At the very least, he was far better than the Emperor.
In truth, even the Imperium's high-ranking powers and lords feared the Emperor's return to the Throne. Even more, they feared the Eleventh Tithe being restored.
Who could endure that?
In short, they firmly supported the Savior. The Emperor, that father of theirs, had to retire completely so he would not interfere with the Imperium's development.
"Very well. Guilliman, Dorn—even you…"
The Emperor drew in a deep breath.
He was so angry that his lips trembled. Even the Seven Wolves belt froze in midair, refusing to fall.
This former Master of Mankind was numb with shock. He had never imagined that his sons' wings had grown harder than one another's. Was he no longer even allowed to beat them?
"What are you thinking, boy?" the Emperor asked, fixing his majestic gaze on the Savior, his tone filled with dissatisfaction.
Did this successor he had personally cultivated dare to oppose his decision as well?
Huh?
Eden stood there, numb with disbelief and rather embarrassed.
At that moment, on the platform before the Golden Throne, Guilliman, Mortarion, and more than ten other primarchs had gathered behind him of their own accord, faintly confronting the Emperor with Eden at their head.
They were clearly supporting him, the Savior, and standing against the Emperor before the Golden Throne.
Eden had the strange feeling that these primarch brothers were worried he might be cold, so they had all come together to drape an imperial yellow robe over him for warmth.
Inwardly, he sighed. "You people have truly doomed Us."
Eden raised his head and looked at the Emperor. He had already made his decision.
He had to stand with the primarchs and protect these good brothers who supported him, lest they suffer the ravages of the Seven Wolves belt.
Otherwise, this team would be very hard to lead in the future.
If a leader failed to support his own team members at a critical moment, how could he ever win their trust and respect?
"Ah, Guilliman and the others are right. You should rest, old man. Don't damage your health with anger. If they commit any acts of rebellion, Imperial law will deal with them…"
Eden stepped in front of the primarchs, facing the Emperor directly. His tone remained respectful.
Even so, he preserved his dignity. He did not become servile before the former Master of Mankind, and solemnly expressed his own position.
There was no way around it. The Imperium's political system had already changed completely. Even if the Emperor returned, he could only become a retired sovereign, not continue ruling the Imperium.
Whether or not the Emperor held such intentions, this point had to be confirmed. Politics was that cold.
Otherwise, greater upheaval and purges would follow, and everyone would live in fear.
History had taught that lesson many times. Every leader's departure or return inevitably brought turbulence from the top down.
No one could change that.
Even Eden, the Savior himself, had purged the Adeptus Administratum after seizing power and replaced its officials with his own people. Only then could he actually get things done and execute his will.
He had to support the primarchs, not stand with the Emperor against them.
At that moment, Eden had a vague sense that he was forcing the palace gates, shouting at the former emperor:
I claim command over all the armies under Heaven!
This was a necessary process. The power of any Imperial Emperor had to be won by his own hands. Only true strength could make that position secure.
If the source of power came from someone else's gift, then one would always be restrained by others. It could even be taken away with ease.
Now Eden stood openly before the Emperor, telling the old man that he could serve as the Imperial Emperor and had everyone's support.
He could hold this position by his own strength, not by anyone's favor.
This former Master of Mankind could no longer restrain him.
The Emperor looked at the Savior and the primarchs standing before him, his expression shifting.
He did not understand.
Ten thousand years ago, he, the Master of Mankind, had unified Terra and set out from this very place, launching the magnificent Great Crusade, driving out xenos and rebels, founding the Imperium, and bringing the galaxy under one rule.
Wherever he, the Emperor, went, humanity's children welcomed him with all their hearts. The lost primarchs all submitted to him. It had truly seemed as though destiny itself had chosen him.
That scene of universal worship and surging vitality still felt as if it were right before his eyes.
Yet a mere ten thousand years later, in this same place, he was no longer recognized. Even his loyal primarch sons no longer supported him?
The Emperor realized something.
He seemed to have lost the reason to beat those rebellious sons. If he struck them now, would that not place him on the opposite side of the Imperium?
More importantly, the Emperor suddenly realized that he was old. He could no longer beat so many primarchs at once.
Even if the Savior did not intervene, he might not be able to teach those rebellious sons a lesson. If they joined forces and fought back, he might be the one who got beaten.
What a sorrowful thing that would be.
More than that, such an action would inevitably damage humanity's unity.
"Ah. I am old."
After ten thousand years of imprisonment, the Emperor no longer had the violent temper of the past. His nature had grown gentler.
Once he thought it through, he decisively extinguished the psychic backhand and lowered the Seven Wolves belt, no longer clinging to the matter.
That way, he could at least preserve his dignity in old age.
After all, the Emperor had only been unable to stand the sight of those rebellious sons and instinctively wanted to beat them to vent his anger.
Besides, he had already passed the crown to the Savior. He was merely accustomed to having his will obeyed without question. This sudden gap was hard to adjust to.
Every ruler who stepped down, every retired sovereign, had to adapt to that. They had to. Otherwise, even greater disaster would follow.
The Emperor calmed himself and understood these matters. He truly should lay down the burden, not go back on his word.
Only, the former Master of Mankind looked rather lonely.
"You're still strong in your old age. The Imperium will always need you!"
Seeing this, Eden hurried over to support the Emperor, his attitude becoming perfectly respectful.
Since the old man had already come around, Eden's own posture had to be proper as well.
"Rest assured. This old man will no longer interfere in the Imperium's affairs."
The Emperor was quite satisfied with the Savior's attitude. Then he glanced at the primarchs, who were openly showing joy.
"If any of you rebellious sons dare betray the Imperium in the future, I will be the first to punish you!"
"Boy, it's all up to you from now on." The Emperor gently patted the Savior's hand, then descended the steps of the Golden Throne and left behind that mechanical throne that triggered him so badly.
"Rest assured. I'll handle everything. Also… you really should rest properly for a while."
Eden spoke sincerely, as if accepting a command. "Webby and Dante will accompany you on a journey around the galaxy, so you can see the magnificent lands of our Imperium!"
He immediately summoned Webby and Dante, that supreme salted fish, to accompany the old Emperor and make sure he had a proper time traveling among the stars.
"You really are a sensible boy."
The Emperor nodded in satisfaction and walked down the steps without the slightest reluctance.
He had wanted to leave this damned place for a long time. Now, at last, his wish had been granted.
At that moment, the Emperor felt a lightness he had never felt before.
He had laid down the burden he had carried for ten thousand years and truly gained his freedom. Complete freedom.
From now on, he could properly spend time with Webby, his dear little granddaughter.
When the Emperor, under everyone's gaze, reached the bottom of the throne steps, Dante and Webby—floating in the air in the form of a little mechanical angel—had already arrived at high speed in a hovercar.
"Grandpa Emperor!" Webby flew over excitedly and waved, looking perfectly obedient.
She was extremely excited that she could take a vacation and go play. From now on, she could work part-time for the Imperium while having fun.
"Your Imperial Majesty!"
As for Dante, that salted fish, he was even more excited. This was imperial authorization to accompany the Emperor for fun—unlimited sanctioned slacking.
He had already figured out how to show the old Emperor a good time.
"Starting now, I am retired. Unless it is a matter of life and death, do not bother me!"
The Emperor lovingly patted Webby, his dear little granddaughter, on the head and spoke to Eden and the others.
When he turned around, the armor on his body had already changed into a floral shirt and large shorts, giving him the look of a middle-aged-to-elderly wanderer.
"One more thing. When we're out having fun, you have to call me Big Brother."
The Emperor jumped into the lavish hovercar, put on sunglasses, and said this to Dante without the slightest trace of royal dignity. He looked far more like a free-spirited wanderer.
This former Master of Mankind had once known how to live freely, and far more than anyone imagined.
He had merely carried the burden of destiny and had no choice but to suppress his true nature, enduring suffering and torment until even his personality had become twisted.
"Let's go!"
With a wave of his hand, the Emperor slammed down on the accelerator and sped toward the teleportarium with Webby and Dante.
Only Guilliman and the other primarchs were left behind, staring at one another.
This being who had suffered for humanity for ten thousand years had finally laid down his burden and begun pursuing a new life.
"Ah. I wonder when I'll be able to take a grand tour of the galaxy like the old Emperor."
Eden sighed with feeling.
The galaxy was so magnificent. Beautiful women of every species were waiting for him to communicate and exchange ideas with them.
The old Emperor had already left the Warp behind and gained his freedom. But Eden, the Savior, still had his Hope Sun in the Warp.
If he could not truly deal with the Chaos Gods, there was still a chance he could get done in. He did not dare retire.
Only after the Emperor's hovercar vanished at the far end of his sight did Eden finally turn around and begin handling the aftermath of the battle with the primarchs.
(End of Chapter)
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