"I'm Doraemon, and I've come to help you," Alexander said with a smile, patting the pocket on his belly a few times.
The Emperor's brow furrowed instantly. His golden eyes, like two stars capable of burning through deception to reveal truth, stared intently at Alexander. He saw things, and he heard things—something warm and beautiful was flowing within Alexander's form. Most of it originated from humanity, and Alexander had generously contributed it to the Emperor...
The Emperor's brow slowly relaxed, his frown smoothing away. The gold in his eyes dissipated, revealing deep dark-brown eyes filled with astonishment. Yet, reflected in those eyes was Alexander's silhouette—not his human form, but a blue robotic cat with a gentle smile on his face, his round visage even carrying a touch of the comical.
But the Emperor heard the "voices" that coalesced into this figure. He heard people expressing gratitude to Doraemon; he heard children singing innocent songs; he heard hive city workers thanking Doraemon for granting them food; he heard Space Marines—no, Necrons—thanking Doraemon for granting them souls; he heard the Aeldari thanking Doraemon for saving them from Slaanesh. Those pure, beautiful things surged within the blue cat's silhouette, completely devoid of hypocrisy, holding only beauty... Though, what was this about Saint Doraemon using a whip on the Custodes so food would grow from the ground?
What on earth had this guy done to his meticulously bred Custodes!
But listening closely and observing carefully, the Emperor understood exactly what had happened. Yes, yes... that was precisely how the Custodes should be used. Seeing the Custodes laboring in Holiday Farming Suits, seeing rice grow from the ground in a manner that defied both physical laws and the laws of the Warp, a smile actually managed to slip across the corner of the Emperor's lips.
Alexander made no attempt to hide his inner self, completely laying bare his interior to the Emperor.
"Before I resolved to shoulder the burden and begin the Unification Wars, I once had a dream in a storm-ravaged tower."
"I dreamed that Doraemon crawled out of the drawer next to me, telling me he was going to help me."
A tremor surfaced in the voice of the Master of Mankind, exposing a vivid human emotion that Thiel had never seen before: "When I woke, I hated myself for being so weak that I actually pinned my hopes on... Doraemon."
"But I never imagined that one day, Doraemon would stand before me and even become the Eternal Dragon."
"Still... why are you a dwarf?"
The Emperor looked at Alexander, who stood at most around 1.2 to 1.3 meters tall, his expression turning slightly eccentric.
"You're the dwarf, your whole family are dwarves! If you mention the word dwarf one more time, I'll write your entire lineage into the Book of Grudges."
Alexander was vexed into a laugh by the Emperor's sudden query. Couldn't this old bastard see that his internal genetic composition was completely, pure-bred human? No, he could see it; he was just deliberately trying to display a sense of humor using Alexander's height.
"And I am not merely the Machine God," he told the Emperor.
Standing beside the Emperor, Loken looked utterly perplexed. He couldn't really understand what the Emperor and this mysterious mortal—who claimed to be the Machine God yet was not merely the Machine God—were talking about. He only faintly sensed that the Emperor had suddenly become familiar with the mortal, and... Loken even noticed a specific light flash through the Emperor's eyes. It was a gaze many displayed when seeing the Emperor for the first time—a gaze of being shocked, of being awed, a gaze fixed upon a savior...
Yet now, it appeared in the eyes of the Emperor himself.
"Not merely the Machine God."
"Not merely the Eternal Dragon."
The Emperor's dark-brown eyes stared at Alexander. From the perspective of the two Alexanders, the two pairs of eyes of the two Emperors actually began to overlap briefly across time and causality, looking at both Alexanders simultaneously, reflecting the silhouettes of the Eternal Dragon and the Machine God.
"You actually became both the Eternal Dragon and the Machine God simultaneously, and now you have smoothly split yourself apart."
The Emperor aboard the Vengeful Spirit and the Emperor aboard the Macragge's Honour spoke at the same moment, uttering the exact same words: "A secret gadget?"
"The Splitting Sword?"
Alexander nodded slightly.
[Gadget Name: Splitting Sword]
[Origin: 22nd Century Earth — Future Department Store]
[Production Era: 231.M3]
[Function: The user can use this gadget to split objects, themselves, or others into two. This does not affect the function of the entity, though the volume is reduced to half of the original. Rejoining the split parts restores the original state.]
It was precisely by relying on this gadget that Alexander had split himself in two: one half carrying the divinity of the Machine God aboard the Vengeful Spirit, and the other half carrying the Eternal Dragon aboard the Macragge's Honour.
"How exactly did you manage this? I am not surprised that you could contest two divine seats... I am more curious about how you achieved this state of being infinitely close to ascension without actually ascending..."
The Emperor stared suspiciously at Alexander. Before Alexander could reply, the Emperor arrived at the answer himself: "It couldn't be by putting immense pressure on me, could it?"
Alexander offered a completely harmless smile. "Your Majesty, you chose it yourself."
The Master of Mankind opened his mouth slightly. Clear humanity leaked from his form—a trace of acceptance, a trace of pain, a trace of discomfort, and a trace of helplessness all flitted across his face simultaneously.
"No matter. I prepared myself for this long ago—prepared to sit upon that throne for ten thousand years, and ten thousand more..." The Emperor shook his head slightly. "I no longer fear that destined fate."
"Liar. Rogal Dorn told Guilliman that just before you were to sit upon the Golden Throne, the single eye you had left was filled with absolute terror," Alexander said, shaking his head.
"Don't mock me," the Emperor said with a bitter smile.
"I'm not mocking you." Alexander's tone suddenly grew a bit more serious. He looked at the Emperor, and the Emperor looked back at him.
Then, another flash of surprise crossed the Emperor's face.
"How do you possess such an abundant amount of humanity?"
The Emperor stood up abruptly, a hint of shock appearing in his eyes as he looked at Alexander. Then, he seemed to comprehend something.
"You... could it be... I see. The time you have left is not much either. Truly a grand gamble."
"My apologies. I need to go all out. I had no choice but to gamble with the entirety of humanity that you preserved and myself," Alexander said somewhat apologetically.
If he hadn't made this grand gamble, humanity might indeed have had another twenty, thirty, or even a hundred years... But this was his only opportunity. Forcing the Chaos Regent to become real at the exact moment that black sun began to awaken was the only instant that could drive the situation to where it stood now.
"...I do not blame you." The Emperor shook his head gently.
Then, he looked at Alexander, and Alexander looked at him.
And both of them burst into laughter almost simultaneously.
"The Emperor is a bit different," Loken said to Sanguinius, watching the Emperor and Alexander in surprise. "Were they once friends?"
A smile drifted across Sanguinius's lips. "Malcador and the Emperor were like this sometimes. They would speak of things we could not comprehend. Perhaps this is simply the friendship of old relics like them."
Hearing Thiel marveling at the unique way the Emperor and Alexander interacted, Horus's gaze toward them grew somewhat bitter. He felt left out. He had thought the Emperor would care more about his presence.
"Father," he couldn't help but speak up.
The Emperor's laughter was interrupted. He looked toward Horus, giving him a slight nod. "My son..." But this Emperor standing beside Thiel showed a slight expression of confusion: "You are from the other side, aren't you?"
Horus's expression twitched.
"I can faintly perceive the other side."
The Emperor paced through the ship's cabin, walking gently to the bulkhead. He extended a hand to touch the wall of the Vengeful Spirit, sensing the Macragge's Honour occupying the exact same location but within a different strand of causality. "I see. You did not return to the past."
"The past has walked toward you. Two segments of causality are replaying at this moment, yearning to complete their closed loops."
"And Thiel and I are actors summoned from the past—the original participants of that causality."
As he spoke, the Emperor looked toward Horus. "On that side, who was the leader of the rebellion? Lion? Dorn? Sanguinius?"
Horus opened his mouth slightly...
"It was me."
"It was Guilliman."
The face of the Emperor aboard the Vengeful Spirit and the face of the Emperor aboard the Macragge's Honour twitched simultaneously. "That truly is bad news," the Emperor said to Horus, his voice a bit bitter.
"It seems the difficulty on that side is quite high," the Emperor said to Sanguinius, his voice somewhat helpless.
Then, the Emperors on both sides looked toward Alexander simultaneously. "Did you absolutely have to choose the apocrypha where Guilliman becomes the Dark King?"
"Why do I feel that Guilliman is currently a bit too powerful?"
"If you had chosen Lorgar, our chances of victory would be much greater."
"He is just a tiny bit powerful," Alexander said, pinching his thumb and index finger together to demonstrate. "But without Guilliman, there would be no way to crush that black sun, and no way to reach this point."
"To think that for the Four Gods, Guilliman is actually a more convenient tool than Horus," the Emperor sighed softly.
Sanguinius was about to speak when he felt the Vengeful Spirit itself vibrating, roaring, and hissing with a sharp, buzzing sound that lingered at the edge of their hearing, issuing a summons...
+Father!+
+Father!+
+Father!+
A call laced with the scent of blood echoed from afar. A crimson light began to erode the entire corridor, as if some dark presence was reaching out, desperate to capture the Human Emperor.
In contrast, a dark-blue light filled with a sense of silence permeated every corner of the corridor ahead. Like a silent yet powerful sovereign, it issued a summons to his guests with absolute, flawless etiquette:
+Emperor.+
+Doraemon.+
+Contend with me.+
"He is so polite" Alexander remarked.
"Fear not, we have a raccoon dog as well," the Emperor said, standing beside Alexander.
Alexander turned his head to look at Horus behind him. "Let me explain it to you guys. Doraemon is often mistaken for a raccoon dog..."
Thiel stood frozen in place, utterly confused and unsure of what to say, while Horus looked entirely blank. "I am reminded of a terrifying sight."
"Rogal Dorn telling a bad joke, and only Perturabo laughing while trying to explain it," he said in an eccentric tone.
"What should we do?" Loken gazed at the crimson light. The light was pulsing, as if a heart made of light was beating, making his scalp tingle. He could sense the entity connected to his own bloodline residing right where the light enveloped—Chaos Warmaster Horus...
"He is even more powerful than he was back then," Sanguinius said softly, staring into the red light.
The desire for the birth of the Dark King—of that black sun—was condensing upon Horus, carrying with it the self-destructive tendencies of the Four Gods.
The Gods were currently contributing power to these two rituals, yet they were forced to be mere audience members. This was a destined causality: the Four Gods had to exist prior to the birth of the Dark King. Yet there was no true concept of time within the Warp; if they became the Dark King, then they would have been the Dark King from the very beginning, and the causality of the Four Gods predating the Dark King would fall apart. Therefore, within these two rituals, the Emperor could become the Dark King, Horus could become the Dark King, Guilliman could become the Dark King, and Alexander could become the Dark King—but the Gods had no chance. They could only observe the ceremony.
+I shall forge the path.+
Golden psychic light erupted once more from the Human Emperor's eyes. A divine halo instantly enveloped his fleshly shroud once again, hiding his human side beneath a psychic presence grand enough to pluck a divine seat. At this moment, the man whose name was a simple syllable merged into a deeper concept—a concept long hidden beneath his flesh and skin, a concept awakened ten thousand years ago during the final battle with Horus. This was not the past, but a recurrence of the past. Thiel and Loken might not perceive it, but the Emperor could deploy power that surpassed the past. In this precise moment, the strength of an entire species stood here.
The dark-blue light receded. The corridor of the Macragge's Honour, filled with a profound sense of order and deathly silence, began to warp. Space itself faded away in all directions, like complex threads of fate being torn apart by the Emperor. He—humanity itself, a king of all ancient eons—ripped away the foul clutter blocking their path, reaching straight into the absolute core of this causality.
Ebon wood and black marble constructed this dizzying temple. Decay, blood, corruption, and mutation adorned the structure, and darkness was its sole master. The temple rotated like a kaleidoscope, and bathed in the crimson light—bearing a detestable smile, his eyes reflecting a deep, maddened depth—the profound entity revealed his form from the center of the rotation.
"Father," he said with a smile to the Human Emperor.
"Emperor, Doraemon," atop the austere marble throne, the dark-blue figure nodded in respect toward the Emperor and Alexander.