The Emperor clearly did not share Lucius's sentiments, for His singular ambition had always been the total dominion of Mankind over the galaxy. However, currently confined to the Golden Throne in a state of perpetual, agonizing stasis, He was reduced to projecting His will through the dreams of Roboute Guilliman.
Of course, the poor Lord Regent had no time for sleep. Within the mountainous archives of the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra, Guilliman was drowning in a deluge of administrative toil.
His superhuman intellect processed hundreds of crises every second: troop deployments across distant sectors, the stabilization of trade corridors, and the delicate political tap dances required to appease the Adeptus Mechanicus and the myriad competing factions of the Senatorum Imperialis.
Guilliman was exhausted to the point of catatonia, his features a mask of grim stoicism, when the "Old Man" on the Throne finally decided to interject.
A towering, golden titan manifested before Guilliman's blurred vision, his voice resonating with somber authority:
"Guilliman, my son… an ancient foe rises. Those treacherous xenos seek to contest Mankind's mastery of the stars. You must remain vigilant..."
"What? An ancient foe?"
Guilliman looked up at the golden apparition, parsing his father's words with weary precision. He wondered if the Imperium wasn't already chaotic enough. Half the galaxy was silenced behind the Cicatrix Maledictum, and even the "new" threats were a nightmare. The Adeptus Administratum had unearthed records dating back to the Great Crusade, vague chronicles of a vermin-plague known as 'Skaven.' These ubiquitous new xenos, officially designated as the Skaven by the High Lords, had already given Guilliman a migraine that refused to subside.
Lately, the Inquisition spent more time hunting rats than they did purging heretics or banishing daemons.
Guilliman had already set the tone for the Imperial response: the Skaven were simply too numerous to exterminate. He had opted for a policy of strategic ignorance. To preserve the morale of the citizenry and the Astra Militarum, and to prevent them from realizing they likely sat atop a bottomless nest of vermin, the Inquisition had imposed a total news blackout, rebranding the Skaven as nothing more than 'mutant beasts.'
With the subtle assistance of Clan Eshin, who specialized in "silencing" those who knew too much, the Skaven presence had managed to evade causing widespread panic within the Imperium. As for the true speed of their expansion, even Guilliman remained perilously in the dark.
The Emperor then shifted the psychic vision, showing the telepathically-stunted Guilliman images of the Aeldari launching renewed assaults against the Imperium and countless other worlds.
"Father... Father? Are you alright?"
A cautious, powerful voice pulled Guilliman back to reality. The Lord Regent looked up to see Cato Sicarius standing before him.
"Ah… it is nothing," Guilliman shook his head. The dream-visitation had been vivid, yet he knew the dire state of the Aeldari. Could those fading remnants of a twilight civilization truly be experiencing a final, violent resurgence?
"Do you have something to report, Sicarius?" Guilliman's mind continued to analyze the vision even as he addressed his subordinate.
"Yes, Father." Sicarius bowed his head, kneeling on one knee. He looked almost guilty for interrupting his primarch's rare moment of stillness, but his expression soon shifted to one of disdain. "A message has arrived for you... from the Aeldari."
"The Aeldari?"
Guilliman didn't need to ask for specifics. It could only be Yvraine's Ynnari. Because the Ynnari had facilitated his resurrection, the Ultramarines tolerated these xenos, even allowing them to act as intermediaries for the Lord Regent.
Hearing this, Guilliman felt a strange flicker of relief, like a student finally granted a reprieve after a grueling day of instruction.
"Arrange a meeting in the inner sanctum."
"At once, Father!" As a member of the Victrix Guard, Sicarius knew well that Guilliman's dealings with the xenos were conducted in absolute secrecy to avoid any political fallout.
Soon, the elite Victrix Guard, often joked about as the Lord Regent's "Cat-Chariot" escort, had ushered the Aeldari envoy into the private chamber.
Upon entering, Guilliman immediately recognized the iconic high crest and the lithe, regal silhouette. It was none other than Yvraine herself.
"I did not expect you to come in person," Guilliman remarked.
"You look well, my Lord~" Yvraine said, a faint smile playing on her lips. She, in fact, looked more than well; she looked revitalized.
"Hmph. Spare me the pleasantries. Have you come to deliver news?" Guilliman asked. Being a psychic blank in comparison to her, he could not sense the subtle, shifting aura currently radiating from her.
"Hehe~ The Ynnari are allied with the Imperium, so I have come specifically to share tidings of joy, and a warning." Yvraine gracefully obscured her face with her bladed fan. "Give thanks to Isha, and to the gods... our god of death, Ynnead, has been fully birthed. Moreover, the grip of our Eternal Enemy, the Dark Prince, has receded within the Warp. For the foreseeable future, She-Who-Thirsts will no longer trouble the mortal realms... though her remaining daemons might."
Guilliman's eyes widened in shock.
I was only buried in paperwork for a few days! How has the galaxy shifted so violently in my absence?
"Is this true? Why did my Father... not tell me this?"
"Oh~ calm yourself, big boy~" Yvraine said with a patronizing tilt of her head, lightly tapping Guilliman's pauldrons with her fan. "So, you understand now? The Aeldari once again possess a living god. We are no longer drifting like rootless weeds in the cosmic currents. Without the shadow of the Eternal Enemy haunting our every step, many of our more... hawkish factions are planning to reclaim the lost territories of our ancient empire."
With his peerless strategic mind, Guilliman grasped the implications instantly. "I see. But why tell me? Is this not exactly what you desired?"
Guilliman remained calm and poised, the image of a seasoned, courtly statesman. But beneath the surface, he knew that if Yvraine harbored any intent to turn against the Imperium, he would have to crush her where she stood.
Yvraine, however, shook her head. "No... they do not understand. The fate of the Aeldari has never truly been in our own hands. I stand by the pact between the Ynnari and the Imperium. I will do my utmost to restrain and dissuade those who follow the Whispering God from reckless aggression."
"Follow the Whispering God? Do you mean to say you have other 'gods' now?" Guilliman asked, his question a calculated probe for intelligence.
Yvraine knew his intent but did not withhold the truth. "Do you truly think we achieved the resurrection of a god on our own? Even the Mother Goddess, Isha, who was lost to the Plague God, has returned. But she is not the Isha of old, Guilliman... a far more powerful 'Evil God' has orchestrated all of this. The fall of the Dark Prince, the return of the Mother, and the birth of Ynnead are all mere parts of His Great Plan. We must remain united to face what is coming, unless you truly are that short-sighted."
Guilliman pinched the bridge of his nose, his composure fracturing slightly. He had thought the fall of Slaanesh was finally a piece of good news. Now, he was being told it was only because an even more formidable entity was pulling the strings.
In the grim calculus of the 42nd Millennium, it seemed the Imperium's enemies had simply traded a wolf for a lion.
"Fine. If what you say is true, I will continue our cooperation," Guilliman growled. "But those fools who think they can invade Imperial space with impunity? They are already dead."
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