Chapter 14 Inquisition
Dante's call, much to Stas's deepest displeasure, indeed worked, so the soldiers leading him to his cell were silent and surprisingly polite.
None of them even attempted to hit him with an electric baton or simply punch him.
Moreover, when they finally brought him to the cell, it turned out to be a rather comfortable room, complete with a bed and a bathroom with a bathtub.
Knowing the world of Warhammer, Stas had expected anything.
And though the cell was equipped with pict-casters—in other words, video cameras—Ordyntsev didn't even try to tell the Inquisitor or the Emperor to go fuck themselves.
Yes, the guards who burst into the cell would probably beat him, but they wouldn't kill him, which made his actions completely pointless.
Knowing how long it would take to reach Terra, Stas planned to sleep as much as possible. Just for context, Armageddon was located at the very edge of the Segmentum Solar, the center of which was the blessed Terra.
Considering that Stas wasn't provided with any books, companions, or entertainment, the journey promised to be even more tedious.
*****
- Greetings, it's been a while since you last visited. – the old man sitting by the campfire greeted Stas warmly. Though, it seemed to Stas that the fire had become a bit more constant, no longer dimming to mere embers at times.
- Missed me, old man? – Stas snorted, sitting down across from him. – Honestly, I'm glad I ended up here with you.
- That doesn't sound like you, – the old man smiled faintly. – Where's that rebel who refused to bow even to death?
Stas mentally nodded. It was obvious that not only did the fire seem more alive, but the old man himself was much more animated.
- I'm still here, – Stas assured him. – It's just that flying on an Inquisitor's ship is so boring that I'm happy for any company.
- You're with the Inquisition? – the Shadow of the Emperor frowned slightly, making Stas look up from the fire in surprise.
- You didn't know? What about that whole "God-Emperor watches over everyone" thing?
- I AM NOT A GOD! – an instant flash of anger made the old man's figure flare up with a blinding light, so intense that if this were the real world, it would rival the force of dozens of thermonuclear bombs exploding at once.
The old man's voice filled with a buzzing undertone, and dozens of whispering voices could be heard within it.
- All my life I fought against superstition and blind faith! I promoted rationalism, understanding the laws of the universe, and pure knowledge! There is nothing divine in our universe, and anyone who claims otherwise is either a fool or an enemy. Calling me a GOD is one of the worst insults!
- Okay, okay, – Stas raised his hands in a placating gesture, watching as the golden glow began to calm down. – I didn't mean to offend you. But you have to admit, when most of humanity in the galaxy calls you that, you start repeating it whether you want to or not.
- And that is one of my deepest mistakes, – the old man finally calmed down, ending the illumination. – Everything was supposed to end very differently. What's happening now is a cruel mockery of everything the Emperor worked for and believed in. It's a spit in the face of the very concept of the world he wanted to build.
Stas noted that the old man had once again started referring to the Emperor as someone else, even though earlier he had associated himself with him. Was there some connection?
- But what about those four? Given their power, can't they call themselves gods?
- There are no gods, – the old man repeated firmly. – Them calling themselves that is nothing more than a lie perpetuated by particularly powerful Warp entities that have consumed so much energy from the dead and emotions that they've reached a new level of power. But that doesn't make them gods.
- Listen, – Stas involuntarily slapped his forehead as he remembered something. – To hell with these gods, ha, that sounds funny. Since we're having such a good time, tell me, why was so little heard about you before the Age of Strife? Why did you appear so prominently only later? Wait a minute… Could you have been in my world too? Although, since no one in my world has heard of the Warp, your counterpart probably doesn't exist there either.
The Shadow of the Emperor squinted, peering into Stas's memories.
- No, – he finally said. – There's very little chance that your universe also had an Emperor. Too many small differences. As for the Warp, at that time, not many people on Terra knew about it either. Ordinary people weren't supposed to know about such a dangerous and volatile energy.
The old man's eyes gleamed, as they both understood perfectly well that the Shadow of the Emperor knew what Stas was thinking.
"Funny how he decided to apply that principle to the entire Imperium back in the day."
- As for why so little was known about the Emperor, – the old man sighed. – At that time, the Emperor believed that humanity should decide its own fate, and he would only correct its most dangerous and critical mistakes. Not a leader, not a tyrant, but merely a shepherd and a teacher. And there was a reason for this decision—by that point, the Emperor had already lived for millennia and had his fill of various forms of power. He decided to step aside, giving way to the young sprout.
- And I take it that didn't end well. – Stas concluded, recalling everything he knew about the War with the Iron Men.
- Fools, – the Shadow of the Emperor's voice was filled with long-standing contempt. – I warned them that such deep dabbling in creating such a sophisticated and complex intelligence couldn't last forever.
The old man snorted.
- Humanity's strength and weakness—our endless and insatiable greed. You have countless legions of robots ready to carry out any order? Why stop there? Let's create robots that can not only work but also advance science. Not enough? Why not entrust them with art too? Still not enough? Let's give them even more! Is it any wonder that at some point something went wrong?
- How bad was it? – Stas couldn't help but ask. – How much worse was what happened back then compared to what's happening now?
- How much worse? – the old man's eyes stared off into the distance. – That's a rather difficult question. If we're talking about scale, what's happening now is just a pitiful shadow of a true war. The Federation was superior to the Imperium in every way, just as a human is superior to a worm.
The old man hesitated, and Stas couldn't help but feel sympathy, seeing genuine pain on his interlocutor's face.
How terrible must it be for someone who saw the pinnacle of human development to then witness its deepest fall? How could the Emperor even see any remotely promising future in those techno-barbarians and colonies that had fallen into medieval squalor?
Stas himself suspected that even if he had the Emperor's power, he would have simply given up, unable to withstand the blow.
- As if what he endured helped us, – the old man smiled slightly. The involuntary praise in Stas's thoughts amused him a little. – But if we return to comparing the past and the present, that war was much more… pure? Yes, the machines didn't hesitate to take prisoners to impose their will on us, but very soon everyone realized that the only way to fight was to completely ignore the collateral damage.
- And then the machines stopped taking prisoners.
- Exactly. Despite the fact that the artificial intelligences wanted our destruction, unlike Chaos, they didn't want our suffering. Both sides simply understood that it was either them or us, that's all. Yes, the galaxy burned, but the destruction was clean and rationalized, while Chaos strives not only to destroy us but to do so in the most vile and agonizing way possible.
Stas involuntarily shrugged. There was something truly eerie about how calmly they spoke about the death of so many people that Ordyntsev might not even know such a large number.
- You could even say that we're in a much worse position now, – the old man admitted. – In those distant times, despite all its flaws, humanity was capable of defending itself. We were strong, and the victory over the Iron Men speaks for itself. Now, humanity has sunk so deep into ignorance and stupidity that I'm surprised it's still fighting.
When the world began to crack, neither of them said another word.
*****
- You're almost there, – as soon as Stas sat down by the fire, the Emperor answered the unspoken question. – A little more, and your ship will reach Terra.
Throughout the journey, Stanislav preferred to spend his time by the fire with the Shadow of the Emperor. Whether it was due to his desire or some other reason, almost any sleep transported him to this place.
Stas himself loved asking questions about the distant past of the galaxy and the Dark Age, about which not much was known even in his own universe.
Unfortunately, the old man couldn't help with some questions either. Some parts of his memory were missing or damaged, so much of it was unknown to him, or he doubted its accuracy.
And now Ordyntsev raised an interesting question.
- Malcador, right? – the old man repeated, squinting. – Ah, an old friend. Perhaps the only one who came close to understanding the full scope of the Emperor's plans. Sometimes I think it's a good thing he didn't live to see what became of it all. Though could he have done better? Now we'll never know.
- Where's he from? – Stas asked impatiently. – When did you meet him? How old is he?
- Ironically, I don't know, – the answer baffled Ordyntsev. The old man smirked. – The Emperor met him in the final days of the Federation. What brought them together was that they were both trying to reach the Chancellor…
- The Chancellor? Funny. – Stas couldn't help but snort.
- Yes, a curious coincidence. Though, unlike the one you're thinking of, that Chancellor was quite the idiot. By that time, Sigillite was already at least several hundred years old, and everything before that was classified. Later, we had no time to delve into his past.
- I see, – Stas grinned conspiratorially. Recently, an interesting thought had occurred to him, and he decided to try it out. – Tell me, old man, everything I see around me, it's created by your will, right?
- Yes. – the old man nodded slowly. The Shadow of the Emperor tried to read his interlocutor's thoughts as little as possible to maintain at least the illusion of a normal conversation.
- Does that mean you can create anything here?
- Suppose so, but no, I won't create that here. The old man instantly refused as soon as Stas opened his mouth.
- What about food? – Ordyntsev didn't miss a beat, offering another option. – Can you create food?
- I can. – the old man replied shortly.
- Then could you create sausages and sticks?
The old man stared at the man sitting across from him for a few seconds, until suddenly a small golden table appeared between them, with a golden tablecloth and a golden plate holding two long, more sausage-like meat links. Nearby lay some artfully crafted wooden sticks.
- With your love for gold, I was half afraid the sausages would be golden too, – Stas smirked, reaching out and picking up a sausage with a stick.
A quick motion of his hand, and the sausage was skewered on the stick. Stas then casually began roasting one side of the sausage over the fire.
- …
- …
- You do realize you're roasting sausages over the flames of the Imperium burning in fire, right? – the Shadow of the Emperor asked slyly, watching as a drop of fat fell from the sausage into the fire, hissing sharply and producing a small plume of smoke.
- I'm sure it'll taste amazing, – Stas remarked innocently. – Besides, why don't you try it too? I bet in all the tens of thousands of years of your life, you've never roasted sausages over a fire like this.
- I've created and burned civilizations, turned entire nations to dust, watched humanity reach its peak and plummet catastrophically… – the old man picked up a stick. – But you're right, I've never done this.
Soon, both figures sat with sticks, carefully watching to ensure nothing burned and that the sausages were evenly golden and crispy on all sides.
A few minutes later, everything was ready, and strong teeth bit into the smoky, divinely delicious sausages. Hot juice spurted out, but since everything here was either a dream or pure energy, Stas could enjoy the taste of hot meat without fear of burning himself.
- You do realize that if I didn't want it, this fire wouldn't do anything? – the old man clarified, skewering another sausage. – And everything here is fake? Your body is lying in a cell on the Inquisitor's ship, and this food is nothing but energy?
- Of course, – Stas shrugged, not the least bit upset, repeating the action. – But you have to admit, it's more interesting this way, right? Sitting by a fire in good company, eating tasty food. I'm sure you did something like this a thousand or so years ago.
- Longer, much longer, – the old man pondered. – The Emperor doesn't roast sausages, and before that, there was no time for such things. Terra, covered in radiation and overrun by hordes of techno-barbarians, isn't the best place for picnics. And even earlier, I was more concerned with saving humanity from the Iron Men than with something so mundane… So human…
The old man fell silent, lost in thought, and Stas didn't interrupt him, nor did he mention that the old man had once again started referring to himself as the Emperor. Lately, he'd been doing it much more often, and Stas didn't know if that was good or bad. And frankly, he didn't care.
What was the worst that could happen? He could die? Ha!
- Earlier, you said you were in good company? – the old man stared seriously at Stas, who was casually biting off pieces of sausage from the stick. – Don't you know what I've done? Entire star systems—no, civilizations spanning multiple star systems—burned by my order. And not always xenos. Many human interstellar states were doing quite well even after the fall of the Federation. They offered me peace and alliance, but I stood only for submission or death. Do you think my mistakes make me good company?
Stas sighed and rolled his eyes. If there was anyone who didn't need a lecture on morality from a fractured and insane Emperor, it was him.
- Let me put it this way, – Stas tried to formulate his thoughts better. – The higher the level of power, the harder it is for a person to remain not just clean, but even just a normal human being. And it's not because bad people rise to such levels. It's just that you either commit to the work and do what the state demands of you, or you harm the state with your morality, after which the system gets rid of you.
Ordyntsev waved his hand.
- And that's just the state. I can't even imagine what kind of person it takes to subjugate an entire world like Terra. But that's not even it. Here, we're not talking about a star system with a few inhabited planets, no, we're talking about a damn galactic sector. We're talking about practically an entire galaxy. On such a scale, someone capable of managing something like this, even in peacetime, must be a true monster to stop the millions of powerful schemers who are constantly plotting to destroy what's been built.
Stas saluted with the stick holding the last piece of sausage.
- And from what I know, while managing all this, you weren't just thinking about yourself, but about humanity too. Plus, given the sheer level of crap in this universe, things aren't so black and white, right? If you look at it that way, this universe clearly benefited from your presence, didn't it?
- From the Emperor's presence. – the old man corrected, but his voice was filled with doubt.
Today, the one who considered himself merely the Shadow of the Emperor had much to think about.
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