Chapter 125: I Have Returned

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Holy Terra, the Imperial Palace, the Golden Throne.

I was born from the collective suicide of countless shamans, their thousands of souls, knowledge, and power converging into me—a supreme being that ancient saints could only dream of, representing the pinnacle of racial evolution.

The being known as the Emperor was born.

For many millennia, I walked among humans, observing the development of mankind. I witnessed the fall of empires, humanity's journey from primitive beings and barbarians to space colonizers. I saw humanity's dominion crumble and vanish in a storm of barbarism and ignorance. Countless warp storms obliterated humanity's pathways, the awakening of the Chaos Gods tore apart human civilization. Local factions and empires fought for control over fragmented territories, while worlds completely cut off from aid fell into planetary famines and madness—events even worse than warp disasters.

Terra suffered the most, this cradle of humanity was drained of its last resources thousands of years ago. Deprived of supplies from other planets, the planet was ruled by barbarism and regression. It seemed humanity's history was about to end, that humans would fall into eternal damnation.

Thus, I finally decided to reveal my existence to humanity.

In just a few hundred years, I unified Terra under my rule. Order and reason were established, and under my reign, humanity once again flourished and prospered.

Humanity could not be governed by me alone. I attempted to use my genetic code to create twenty infants, hoping they would grow into powerful generals to lead my armies. I succeeded, yet also failed. The Primarchs were successfully created, but the Chaos Gods, utilizing a warp storm, scattered my creations across the void of space. I was unable to undertake such an experiment again, only managing to create the Space Marines using the remaining gene-seed of the Primarchs.

Then, a massive shockwave swept through the immaterial space, clearing the galaxy of the chaos that had persisted for over five thousand years. Humanity once again set its sights on the galaxy.

During the Great Crusade, one Primarch after another was recovered, and the galaxy once again embraced humanity. After a long duration of the Great Crusade, I decided to grant Horus, the first of my sons to be recovered, the title of "Warmaster" because he had earned my trust. I believed he could continue the Great Crusade in my stead while I returned to Terra for my secret project.

But I failed. Under the schemes of the Chaos Gods, Horus was corrupted and led nearly half of the legions and Primarchs in betrayal against me. The entire galaxy was engulfed in war. He led an endless horde to Terra and besieged the Imperial Palace. Foolish Magnus attempted to use psychic powers to warn me of Horus's betrayal but fell into Tzeentch's trap. His psychic message destroyed Terra's defenses, opening a breach in the webway through which endless hordes of Chaos could directly invade the Imperial Palace. I had to use all my power to maintain the closure of the webway from the Golden Throne. By the time Horus breached the palace, I was already critically weakened.

But I had to fight; it was the only way to defeat Horus and save humanity. To allow me to leave, Malcador the Sigillite took my place on the Golden Throne, nearly destroying his life in the process. But I had no choice.

After a tragic battle, I finally defeated Horus, but I was grievously wounded and on the brink of death. Poor Malcador could have survived, but he chose to infuse his last bit of psychic energy into me to awaken me, leaving humanity with a glimmer of hope.

The twenty-first gene-son.

After ten thousand and one hundred years of endless torment, I finally awaited the destined one. His soul had no connection to the warp, his bloodline was perfect humanity. Ryan completed my task, not disappointing Malcador's hopes. He discovered the relics of the ancient saints. He is loyal, filled with wisdom and strength, the culmination of my and Malcador's will, power, and soul. He won me a chance to start anew.

Now, I shall awaken.

The intermission is over!!!

The decayed and shattered carcass on the Golden Throne began to stir. Pure cosmic energy, accumulated over millions of years, was released. The desiccated skeleton was rapidly re-covered with flesh, the skeletal frame reconstituting at an astonishing rate. Eyes appeared in the deep sockets, all cables, wires, and tubes connected to the Emperor's body were disconnected.

The flesh was reformed, the evil curse left by Chaos dispersed.

The Golden Throne chamber's alarm bells rang out. Countless Imperial Custodians, sensing this day's arrival since the webway breach was sealed months ago, rushed into the throne room. As they truly witnessed this day, all who entered knelt down, their eyes filled with tears, some sobbing uncontrollably.

Their Emperor had returned! The unscathed Master of Mankind stood before the Golden Throne, his face locked in concentration, his towering figure stepping down from the dais.

The Custodian Marshal knelt before the Golden Throne, his voice trembling with disbelief, "My... My lord? The Supreme Highness? This... This is the most glorious and memorable day of my life!"

After speaking, the Custodian Marshal's eyes welled with tears. He never thought he would witness the moment of the Master of Mankind's revival. He was soon weeping before the Emperor, unable to speak for a long time.

Finally, under the expectant gaze of all Custodians, the Emperor spoke. His voice, deep and resonant, stirred the deepest loyalty in everyone's heart.

"Ten thousand and one hundred years have passed. Horus brought us to the brink of oblivion. Humanity struggled in despair at the edge of annihilation. Sector after sector fell into darkness, invasion after invasion fragmented the Empire, leaving this shattered realm burdened beyond endurance."

"Now, the Cadian Gate has also fallen. Demons will pour into the material universe, the green tide of evil rampages within the Empire's borders, and the Great Devourer from beyond the stars..."

"All I see is the Empire of Man on the verge of destruction. We have not conquered; we merely continue to exist. We have not flourished; we struggle to survive. We watch as the galaxy burns, we watch as the human edifice is about to collapse..."

"But now, I have returned!"

At that moment, the High Lords of Terra rushed into the throne room. The Emperor had already ordered the Custodians to let them pass. As they saw the figure standing before the throne, all symbols of the highest power in the human empire were stunned until the Emperor continued to speak.

"Good morning, lords of Terra!"

"Without delay, we have much to do. Now, let's begin one by one!"

"Summon the Archmagos of the Cult Mechanicus, Belisarius Cawl, to my presence!"

The Archmagos of the Cult Mechanicus, upon receiving the Custodian's summons, immediately set aside his work and headed straight for the palace.

No one knew what the Emperor and he discussed. All that was known was that when Archmagos Cawl emerged from the palace, he seemed reborn. A fake, counterfeit skeleton was placed on the Golden Throne. The Emperor infused a small portion of his energy into it, creating the illusion that he was still seated there.

One order after another was issued by the awakened Emperor. He reorganized Terra's order, commanding the Custodians to collectively act in the name of the God-Emperor to cleanse the bureaucracy of corruption, restructuring the order.

No one dared oppose, no one dared object, because the High Lords of Terra could do nothing but kneel, dazzled, upon seeing the Emperor.

Two days later.

"Prepare the battleship! I, will head to Macragge." Fire blazed in the Emperor's eyes.

The galaxy burns, his empire, built by his own hands, on the brink of destruction, ignorance, and rigidity spreading within the borders. The endless problems seemed insurmountable even to him.

Fortunately, two loyal sons were not lost; they were merely asleep.

He needed help.

In the southeast of the galaxy, in the domain of the Space Marines, on Macragge.

As expected, the jewel of the far east had been fully invaded by Chaos. The Ultramarines' fleet was engaged in orbital combat with the Chaos fleet.

When a large number of Imperial Navy ships appeared in orbit around Macragge, Marius Calgar, the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, thought he was hallucinating, especially when the arriving ships identified themselves as part of the Imperial Custodian fleet.

"The Custodians? How could they be here?" the Chapter Master asked, baffled, to his Chief Librarian, Varro Tigurius.

"I don't know. The records say the Custodians never leave the palace without the Emperor's command," the Chief Librarian was also perplexed.

"Why then?" Calgar remained puzzled, but the Chapter Master quickly realized this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Although it had been ten thousand years since they last fought side by side, the Custodian fleet and the Ultramarines' fleet executed a perfect coordination. In just a few minutes, the human ships, previously scattered and isolated, formed a ready-to-strike formation. The Chaos fleet was completely defeated under the pincer attack, leaving behind a trail of ship carcasses as they fled in disarray. Any Chaos Space Marines that had landed were surrounded and eradicated by the Ultramarines.

The threat was eliminated, but Chapter Master Calgar still felt a deep unease as he led the Ultramarines to the golden landing craft, watching as the hatch slowly opened.

What happened next he would never forget.

Crowds of Custodians emerged from the landing craft, their morale high, filled with pride and glory like never before.

Until that towering figure appeared.

The Emperor, without his helmet, wore only a golden laurel on his forehead, revealing his noble visage: a face that combined all miracles and brightness of the world, capable of inspiring eternal loyalty in anyone who saw it.

So majestic, so miraculous, so stern, Chapter Master Calgar and all the Ultramarines knelt involuntarily. At that moment, every Space Marine present realized that even if the sun and moon were to fall and their bodies to decay, they would never forget what they saw.

Calgar realized he had been staring, then was overtaken by utter zeal and madness.

"My... My Emperor?" Calgar spoke, his voice choked. He felt ashamed of his loss of composure, even doubting if the Emperor himself had clearly heard what he was saying.

But the Emperor's intention was understood by everyone. The great Master of Mankind wanted to see his son.

The Thirteenth Legion Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, who was in stasis due to severe injuries, in the Hall of Justice on Macragge.

Crowds of Custodians poured into the sacred hall, their numbers overwhelming the Ultramarines somewhat, but their hearts were filled with anticipation, their fervent gazes fixed on the Emperor's majestic figure. Many Ultramarines couldn't help but want to shout.

Their Primarch had slept too long, far too long.

They believed the great Master of Mankind, the father of the Primarchs, would not just visit his son and do nothing. Their hearts held a sliver of hope, their eyes eagerly watching the Master of Mankind.

The Emperor approached the sarcophagus.

Before him lay a pale, motionless body, his son Roboute Guilliman asleep within. A fine line on his throat marked where the poison of a daemon, like a maggot to bone, clung to Guilliman. The apothecaries were powerless to expel this deadly toxin, only able to place him in a stasis field, maintaining his half-dead state.

Just like myself before.

After I fell, Roboute Guilliman took up the task of rebuilding the Empire, still in chaos and crisis. Half of the Space Marines had rebelled with Horus, and the remaining loyal legions suffered heavy casualties. The number of Space Marines left was pitifully small, far from meeting the demand, while enemies of humanity prepared to plunder the weakened Empire.

Guilliman stood up. He personally led the subsequent wars and restored peace to the galaxy. He authored the Codex Astartes as a guideline for humanity, ensuring the survival of the Empire. All of this, the Emperor, imprisoned on the Golden Throne, watched.

But Guilliman soon fell, wounded by Fulgrim, the former Primarch of the Third Legion turned daemon prince of Slaanesh, in a reckless and unwise attack. Guilliman was left in his current state.

Under the fervent gaze of all Space Marines, the great Master of Mankind gently extended his hand towards Guilliman in the sarcophagus. The potent daemon poison, insurmountable to the apothecaries, was expelled under the Emperor's immense power. The Primarch's injuries healed at a visible rate, holy light enveloping the Hall of Justice.

The pale, sickly complexion rapidly faded from Guilliman's face, and both the Ultramarines and Custodians could feel the surging vitality within the Primarch.

This was a miracle, a true miracle.

"My heavens, what have we done to deserve witnessing such a miracle? What have we done to allow the Emperor to return and grant us our Primarch anew?" Calgar muttered. Space Marines do not cry, but he suddenly felt a strong urge to weep.

Standing behind the Emperor, the Archmagos of the Cult Mechanicus on Mars, Belisarius Cawl, was the first to hear the Emperor's words, cold, devoid of emotion.

"Wake up, Roboute Guilliman."

"I need your strength."

Abaddon: "The era of the Primarchs is over!"

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