The chamber beyond the Eternity Gate was a place of work, a vast stratagium humming with ancient machines. A galaxy was mapped in a swirling hologram of pale blue light at its center. And at its center stood the Primarch.
Roboute Guilliman was even more immense than the Custodes, a true giant clad in masterfully wrought ultramarine power armor. His face was that of a classical hero from an ancient myth—noble, stern, and etched with the profound weariness of a being who had carried the weight of a galaxy for too long. He radiated an almost overwhelming aura of authority, intelligence, and a deep, abiding sorrow. He was the first being the Monarch had met in this universe who felt… significant.
He turned from the star-chart as Jin-Woo entered, his gaze sweeping over him before landing on the five Shadow-Knights. A flicker of something cold and dangerous entered his eyes. It was the fury of a father seeing the effigies of his sons desecrated.
The Custodes, led by Valerian, formed a silent, golden circle around the chamber's perimeter. The air was thick with tension.
"You are the one who calls himself the Shadow Monarch," Guilliman said. It was not a question.
"I am," Jin-Woo replied.
The Primarch's gaze remained fixed on the knights. "Those… things that follow you. They wear the armor of my sons. An act of ultimate blasphemy."
"Blasphemy is a word for those who fear their gods," Jin-Woo said. "They died in service to a silent throne. I have given them a new purpose, serving a monarch who is present. Tell me, Regent, which is the greater honor?"
Guilliman's jaw tightened. He would not be drawn into a theological debate. "Your purpose," he said, shifting the topic. "You trespassed on Holy Terra and demanded an audience. For what purpose? What is it you want?"
"I want nothing from your Imperium," Jin-Woo answered truthfully. "I am not of this reality. My goal is to find a way to return to my own. Your Emperor is the most powerful psychic presence in this galaxy. I came to speak with the one in charge."
The Primarch's expression was one of controlled incredulity. "The things you do—raising the dead, traveling the Warp unprotected—these are the acts of a creature of Chaos," Guilliman stated, his hand resting on the pommel of the flaming sword at his hip.
"Your understanding is limited," Jin-Woo said. He raised a hand. "The psychic sea you call the Warp is a storm of emotion and life. It is chaos. My power stems from its opposite. From silence. From the end of things. Death is not chaotic, Regent. It is the final, perfect state of order."
As he spoke, something impossible happened. The ever-present, crushing psychic hum of the Astronomican began to fade. In their immediate vicinity, a pool of absolute psychic silence formed. The golden armor of the Custodes seemed to dim slightly as the holy light they basked in was muted. The oppressive weight that had been pressing down on the Monarch since he arrived on this planet simply… vanished.
Guilliman's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his features for the first time. The Custodes shifted, their guardian spears humming to life. They were witnessing a feat of psychic power that should have been impossible, an act akin to a man holding back the tide with his bare hands.
"You see?" Jin-Woo said, lowering his hand. The oppressive psychic scream rushed back in. "I am not of the Warp. I am its antithesis."
A long silence followed. Guilliman, the strategist, knew a losing battle when he saw one. He was facing not an enemy to be defeated, but a fundamental law of nature he did not understand.
"Your claims are… extraordinary," he finally said, his voice laced with a new, grudging caution. "Until your nature is understood, you cannot be allowed to roam the galaxy."
He stepped forward, his expression hardening. "You will remain on Terra. A guest of the Imperium, housed within the Palace. You will be given resources, but you will be under the constant watch of the Adeptus Custodes. We will study you. And you will cooperate."
It was an order disguised as an offer, an attempt to place the Monarch in a gilded cage.
A faint smile touched Jin-Woo's lips. "I will stay," he agreed, and a collective, unseen sigh of relief came from the golden warriors. "But let us be clear on the terms, Regent."
He took a step forward himself, the psychic silence briefly returning with his proximity.
"I am not your guest. I am not your prisoner. I am a fellow monarch, observing your kingdom. Do not mistake my cooperation for obedience."
The two of them stood there, in the heart of humanity's fortress, a demigod of a dying empire and a king of a silent, deathless one. A tense, impossible truce had been struck.