Datch ignored the emperor who vanished with a question mark above his head, turned around, and walked gracefully along the pyramid.
"Wait a moment... Could you... help me out again?"
The emperor's voice echoed in Datch's mind, a mix of careful negotiation and faint urgency.
Datch ignored the old man in yellow; NPCs without quests were worthless and not worth investing energy in. That voice—if heard by any loyal servant of the Imperium—would be enough to make them faint in excitement. Yet Datch did not look back, hurrying down the pyramid.
Seated upon the Golden Throne, the emperor gazed into the distance at Datch, gave a sigh only he could hear, and fell silent once more.
It's not that he doesn't want to communicate; he simply can't.
That mysterious, nameless one never spoke to him, and he couldn't find another to communicate with either.
Even Roboute Guilliman, the genetic prototype, enhanced in mind and soul, couldn't communicate with him normally.
If conversation were forcibly attempted, Guilliman's consciousness could be torn apart, or his soul might suffer irreparable damage.
Ten thousand years ago, during the Great Crusade, only a few could truly communicate with the emperor.
Now, with perfect repairs and a surge of efficiency, combined with the immense power of faith accumulated over millennia, the emperor's stray thoughts blaze like a supernova for ordinary people—scorching and terrifying.
Even a moment of contact could overwhelm and burn out a mind in a flood of excessive information and emotion. The body could not even be carried away—reduced to ashes right there.
The emperor could not leave the Golden Throne.
First, because the Warp gap must be sealed and suppressed.
Second, without the support of the Golden Throne, he would be consumed by the torrent of faith constantly gathering to shape him into the God-Emperor.
Without the Throne's aid, even someone as strong as the emperor could not resist the faith of all humanity.
If he left the Throne, he would likely be instantly assimilated and elevated to godhood.
…
Guilliman looked at Datch with a shocked expression.
"Has the Golden Throne been repaired?"
As if not hearing, Datch strode straight past the Primarch and dashed out of the throne room.
Heracleon, who had stood in silence, witnessed all this—the corner of his lips curved uncontrollably under his helmet.
Yes! He quietly cheered inside.
It seemed the nameless one didn't just ignore him, but ignored everyone equally.
Even the returned Primarch, the emperor, and his son were all left behind.
Somehow, that was a little cool.
It's estimated that, in the entire galaxy, the emperor is never ignored.
Unable to get answers, Guilliman forced a wry smile and shook his head. Well, ignored again.
Suppressing his many confused thoughts, he finally turned his gaze to the sunlit Golden Throne, then left the throne.
He thought only a few minutes had passed.
Chief Trajann of the Adeptus Custodes told him dozens of hours had gone by outside.
During that time, the nameless one had run through the underground palace, finished repairing the Golden Throne, and greatly enhanced its operational efficiency.
Guilliman tried to remember details or conversations from his meeting with the emperor, but nothing came to mind—only fragmented words remained.
Trajann said he heard nothing, but saw Guilliman's expression change as if he were speaking.
"Maybe only the nameless one can clearly hear and understand His Majesty's words," Trajann suggested.
Hearing this, Guilliman thought:
If anyone could truly communicate with the Father in that situation, it would be, without doubt, the mysterious nameless one.
But recalling his own disastrous interactions with the nameless one, he reflexively pulled back.
The other had either loudly yelled "skip" to avoid the topic or ignored him completely.
If he asked directly, he'd likely be humiliated—or ignored again.
"Forget it," Guilliman said, knowing he wouldn't get an answer.
Besides, it didn't matter exactly what the emperor said—Guilliman had his own pace and plan.
Today, the Golden Throne was restored, the greatest crisis resolved.
Next, the time had come to reorganize the chaotic imperial government, rally the armies, begin the crusade, reclaim territories swallowed by chaos, and save the desperate people of the Imperium.
As Guilliman composed himself and prepared to face the countless expectant gazes outside the throne room, a report from the Grey Knights—delivered to the Primarch by a terrified messenger as a top emergency—arrived.
It contained only one line:
The reality barrier of Terra has reached its weakest point in history, and the risk of invasion by warp entities is extremely high.
Guilliman stared, dumbfounded:
"Hasn't the Golden Throne already been repaired?
Why is it now even more vulnerable to daemon invasion?!"
A Magos, a sage of the Mechanicum in charge of maintaining the Golden Throne, explained as smoothly as possible:
"Your Majesty, the problem is that the Golden Throne has been repaired too well."
"Today's operational efficiency is so high that our lord's power has become stronger than ever. To defend Terra, extremely advanced system parameter adjustments and adaptations are required."
"If we ignore the current state and forcibly channel the Throne's power through the old model... the resulting psychic turbulence may exceed the load-bearing limits of Terra's crust and spatial structure, possibly causing unpredictable rifts."
Guilliman: "..."
He was silent for a few seconds, then spoke again after gathering himself:
"Understood. Organize the relevant sages and psykers immediately, and complete parameter adjustments as soon as possible."
"During this period, I will temporarily take over Terra's orbital and ground defense, notify all Imperial defense forces to increase to the highest combat readiness, and prevent warp invasion."
Having finished his explanation, Guilliman straightened up and stepped firmly out of the throne room doors.
…
Outside the throne room, the people of the expeditionary force stood solemnly and respectfully; none spoke, all kept silent.
During this time, the excited whispers of the faithful gradually turned to fervent prayers.
The poor faithful crawled to Sicarius, the great master Voldus, and every battle angel they could approach, striving to offer whatever little tribute and words of praise they could.
Celestine did not remain in place; with the twin sisters, she walked among the crowd, giving blessings to the pious.
Inquisitor Greyfax left early to report to the Inquisition at Terra headquarters.
Since being captured by Trazyn the infinite, contact with the Inquisition had been lost.
In the files of the First Tribunal, she had long been recorded as missing or presumed dead.
She had to return, report critical information, and evaluate the remaining missions with the other Inquisitors.
There is no "day and night" in the palace; the sky has long been covered by artificial light sources and polluted clouds.
People judge the passage of time only by the candlesticks or lamps carried by servants.
The faithful gathered outside the throne room showed no sign of leaving—if anything, their numbers grew.
Those with strength left gathered before icons and prayer boards, chanting ceaselessly for the Primarch, the emperor, and humanity.
When mechanical servants sent by the Ecclesiarchy forced bowls of nourishing porridge to their cracked lips, they paused only briefly to gulp it down.
Others, exhausted, simply spread worn priestly robes or thin blankets on the cold ground, lay down fully clothed, and took what rest they could.
The bell tolled, and the majestic throne room doors opened once more.
Guilliman and Datch emerged together.
In an instant, the crowd's repressed emotions peaked—and exploded.
Crying, shouting, and fervent prayers overlapped into a deafening sea of sound.
Countless arms reached for Guilliman, muddy tears streamed down countless faces.
People screamed, yearning for the emperor's presence.
Guilliman paid it no mind; he had more important matters to handle.
He summoned the warriors who had followed him to Terra, inviting Chief Trajann of the Adeptus Custodes to join him.
He then issued his first order for Terra:
"Summon all members of the High Lords of Terra immediately."
The eleven High Lords—representing the highest secular and religious power of the Imperium—responded one by one, gathering in the Senate's decision-making hall.
Additionally, a variety of stakeholders assembled in the gallery, eager to learn the Primarch's decisions as soon as possible.
Upon arrival, the High Lords entered in order and took their seats:
Trajann Valoris, Chief of the Adeptus Custodes
Oud Oudia Raskian — Fabricator-General
Irthu Haemotalion — Master of the Administratum
Kania Dhanda — Speaker For the Chartist Captains
Aveliza Drachmar — Grand Provost Marshal
Merelda Pereth — Lord High Admiral
Baldo Slyst — Ecclesiarch
Uila Lamma — Paternoval Envoy
Zlatad Aph Kerapliades — Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica
Fadix — Grand Master of Assassins
Kleopatra Arx — Inquisitorial Representative
The absent High Lord was the Master of the Astronomican, Leops Franck—because he was dead.
Inquisitor Crowl investigated the Golden Throne and uncovered Franck's involvement.
His mad actions caused most Chamber of the Astronomican psykers to lose control; a terrible massacre followed, and the Chamber of the Astronomican was destroyed.
During a confrontation with Inquisitor Crowl, Franck fell into the abyss with not even bones left.
Prime Minister Tyrion also attended the meeting, presiding over the proceedings.
Once the High Lords were seated, Guilliman walked straight before them.
His tall, upright figure, clad in blue and gold power armor, and his face marked by undeniable authority, immediately drew everyone's attention.
Avoiding lengthy or ceremonial greetings, Guilliman went straight to the point:
"Gentlemen, as Lord of Ultramar and the Glory of Macragge, Roboute Guilliman, I hereby declare—"
He paused briefly, his eyes Astronomican-like as he looked slowly over the eleven faces—each with a different expression.
"From this moment on, I resume the duties of Regent of the Imperium, and assume the powers and responsibilities of Supreme Commander of the Imperium of Man."
…
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