The Emperor, Master of Mankind, Father of the Primarchs.
The man who descended from the heavens bore a complex identity; after studying him, Lion dropped to one knee and swore fealty.
The Primarch gave his father his name, just as he now stood upon the primary world of Argent Nur and announced it to his brother: "Lion El'Jonson."
"Blazkowicz Novick."
Lion spread his mighty arms and embraced his brother; two titanic frames met like converging mountain ranges.
The crowd erupted again, for to witness the gathering of the greatest beings in the galaxy—the Primarchs—was glory worth remembering.
The welcome ceremony began; gladiolus petals drifted from the sky, banners snapped beyond the white walls of the Argentum, and choirs chanted poems that carried Argent Nur's history.
The most honoured warriors stood solemn, their many-coloured armours glinting, heads high, bearing incomparable pride.
This was a realm of warriors; poems sang of their heroism, recounting glory through ten thousand years.
Soldier, worker, or commoner, all straightened their backs in solemn silence and joined the chant.
Unicorns, sprites, and elves—many fantastic races—filled the onlooking throng, weaving a scene of living fantasy.
After a brief three-way embrace and a few words, the procession formally began.
Blazkowicz walked beside the Emperor along a blue carpet etched with honours and disgraces, heading for the Triumph Gate of the Argentum.
The gate swung open; eight Atlantis Titans flanked the path, their mirage cloaks rippling in the wind, phantom particles casting waves of light.
The mechs stood human-like, one hand on hip, the other crossing polearms; the titanic machines reached skyward, their hulls swaying faintly with their pilots' breath.
Sanguinius and Lion, left and right, bore the Emperor's red-silk mantle; the sight was overwhelming, symbolising a star-spanning realm's splendour.
The Angel from Baal and the Lion returned from Tal Rasha kept their gaze forward, silently noting every detail.
Clang!
A deafening screech of metal: as the protagonists passed beneath, the Atlantis Titans uncrossed their polearms, striking sparks to welcome their exalted guests.
Wherever the four walked, people laid gladioli along the carpet, offering Argent Nur's blessing.
To the people of Argent Nur, the Emperor's face radiated the unyielding will of a warrior and the clarity of a sage—perfect embodiment of their ideal of strength.
The nul subjects did not kneel; they rendered warrior salutes to the Master of Mankind and his sons.
Among the four, Blazkowicz and the Emperor were accustomed to ceremony and looked relaxed; the Angel was slightly reserved, repaying curious stares with smiles.
Lion was different; accustomed to observation, he stared ahead while cataloguing every detail of Argent Nur.
Many here towered far above normal humans; clad in robes embroidered with house emblems, they exuded nobility beyond compare.
Lion noticed identical crests etched upon the power armour of many warriors—clearly scions of these great houses.
Most in the welcoming throng wore sumptuous dress, their etiquette effortless, proclaiming high birth.
Besides humans, other beings were present.
Machines stood behind the crowd, electronic eyes flickering as they recorded and analysed events, communing among themselves.
A torrent of data flooded Lion's mind; his thoughts raced, processing what his eyes captured at superhuman speed.
He quickly realised the realm his brother ruled was formidable indeed.
Leading the way, Blazkowicz brought the column onto the Old Palace Avenue and pointed to the statue of King Nowick: "These are my father and mother."
Behind him, Lion and Sanguinius withdrew their gazes, looked upon King and Queen, then covertly watched the Emperor's expression.
The Emperor said nothing; he lifted his eyes to the towering statue and slowly closed them.
Seconds later his eyes blazed gold; he bowed his head in solemn regret: "May you at last find rest."
In those closed-eye moments the Emperor's vast will had traced causality, seeking the souls of King and Queen—only to find regret.
King Nowick's soul lay in Tzeentch's grasp; the Dark God had never released his treasured prize.
The Queen's soul was shattered, fused with a Demigod Daemon hiding in a crevice of the Warp's endless tides, awaiting its moment to rise.
"We offer you our solemn grief." Rarely did the Emperor, who so seldom spoke or showed feeling, reveal such sorrow to these two "mortals."
He was the Master of Mankind, and he understood all too well the perils carved into the stone flanking the palace avenue.
The Four Gods had raised Priests as their "Chosen of All," dispatching their mightiest champions and weaving intricate plots—yet the wise King had seen through them.
"You have done well." The Emperor raised his golden vambrace, a talon-sharp fingertip pointing toward the far end of the stone wall.
There, a section of the mural was hidden; records of the daemon remained unknown to outsiders.
Thanks to Russ's lesson, Blazkowicz had ordered the carved daemon veiled, no longer displayed to the public.
Honouring King and Queen, the four mounted the palace steps; at the top a beautiful Maiden in courtly robes waited, smiling.
For no apparent reason, the Emperor—though no one else was near—quickened his stride and strode to the girl.
His resonant voice carried expectation as he spoke her name: "Marie Nowick."
"Do not be surprised." The Emperor lifted his hand; a silver laurel drifted from his palm and settled on her head. "In prophecy I saw you become a wise Queen, bearing the duty and glory of House Nowick."
Marie bowed her head, accepting the gift of the Emperor.
Blazkowicz stepped forward; all ease vanished from his face. "What did your prophecy show?" he asked gravely.
He knew the Emperor's nature: the Master of Mankind did nothing without gain. A gift to Marie had not been in the plan, and it put him on guard.
The Emperor looked down at the diminutive Marie. "One possibility among innumerable futures."
"What exactly did you see?" Blazkowicz pressed, suspicion hardening his tone; the Emperor's sudden act demanded explanation.
Tension snapped into the air. Lion and Sanguinius stepped back in unspoken accord, distancing themselves from the brewing quarrel.
The identical movement drew their eyes to each other; admiration and agreement showed openly.
From observation Lion judged the dispute would stay within bounds and chose not to interfere; he knew little of the Imperium or Argent Nur and held no brief to speak.
Sanguinius, wiser in the ties between Emperor and Blazkowicz, prudently kept to the side lest the two inadvertently sweep him into their clash.
"One possibility among innumerable futures," the Emperor repeated, adding a qualifier: "with vanishingly small probability."
"I shall be occupied; I may never again set foot on Argent Nur. What I do now rewards that future and passes my respect to King Nowick."
He gave a reason he would never confess: among countless futures, the son he loved most—Horus Lupercal—would rebel.
After the scattering of the Primarchs, the Master of Mankind had cast innumerable prophecies and learned that revolt was fated.
Any of the twenty Primarchs might rise, each bringing different ruin, so he had set a safeguard.
Horus Lupercal.
When the Emperor found him, he devoted himself utterly to teaching the boy, nurturing affection, hoping that when treachery came Horus would stand at his side as the stabilising anchor.
But recent visions had shifted: Horus's rebellion would no longer be mere civil strife; he would embrace the Chaos Gods and launch a great war upon the Imperium of Man.
The Emperor scoffed at the prophecy.
He had absolute cause to believe the vision was a fabrication of the Dark Gods, a seed of intrigue meant to sunder father and son.
Horus Lupercal could never betray mankind—or him.
His gift to Marie arose from futures woven by countless prophecies: whoever the traitor, this future Queen's choice would save multitudes of human lives.
She merited the silver laurel of mercy as reward for that spark of light.
Suspicion still clouded Blazkowicz's eyes, but he lowered the hand he had half raised and for the moment accepted the Emperor's excuse.
"I thank you deeply, great Master of Mankind." The girl's voice was soft. She lifted the laurel, cradling it, and tilted her head playfully. "Such a precious gift—my head is too small to hold it."
The Crystal Circlet flashed in the sun, scattering shards of colour to show there was no space for a crown upon her head.
A rare bright smile crossed the Emperor's face; his mood was light.
He lifted a golden hand in a casual grasp; the silver laurel shrank until it became a bracelet encircling Marie's slender wrist.
"There—perfect." His tone was gentle. The eight-metre giant dwindled, kissed Marie's smooth forehead. "The generous heart of House Nowick is a rare light in the dark cosmos."
With those words he rose again, towering and radiant as the Emperor.
"Let us go inside." Blazkowicz turned away, face grave, fearing the Emperor might yet work some wile upon Marie.
Marie stifled a laugh; to her, her uncle saw the Master of Mankind as the big bad wolf and herself as little red riding-hood.
The old palace hall was empty; the most powerful figures in the galaxy stood in its center.
With almost no rest, as the busiest man in the Imperium, the Emperor immediately threw himself into work after the welcoming ceremony ended.
The palace hall was sealed on multiple levels, isolated from technological and psychic probes; the secrecy was extremely strict.
Marie put down the handheld holographic projector; a piece of intelligence was projected out, showing the purpose of the Emperor's trip.
Blazkowicz and Sanguinius, as witnesses, remained silent, waiting for the Emperor to finish reading the intelligence before adding supplementary information.
Lion's emerald eyes narrowed slightly, gathering information from the holographic image and analyzing the key factors.
He had long harbored doubts, and even a trace of dissatisfaction.
His father had retrieved him from Caliban; the primary plan was to return to the Imperium, take command of the First Legion, and participate in the Great Crusade to conquer the sea of stars.
While the ship was sailing in the Warp, it received an Astropathic Choir Message from Nul; the Emperor ordered the ship to change course, rushing to his brother's domain in a hurry.
The holographic image was very intelligent; the projected planet's ecosystem was lush, inhabited by a large number of primitive species and humanoid intelligent species.
The target the Emperor specifically came for—Pandora.
In Lion's eyes, Pandora was unremarkable, only its biosphere was slightly unique; all living things were interconnected through nerves and had a world spirit.
His gaze gradually shifted to Blazkowicz, feeling that so far, his brother was making a mountain out of a molehill.
But Lion did not mention it intentionally, keeping the matter in his heart.
Although he knew very little about the Imperium of Man and the Nur Stars so far, he maintained a cautious attitude.
After all, a brother who ruled an empire should not be an impetuous person.
Always good at observing, Lion retrieved information extremely quickly and soon found an anomaly. He pointed to one of the images and asked, "What is that?"
Where the Primarch pointed, the image came from a towering tree on Pandora; the Natives had formed a circle around a corpse, holding hands and chanting a mysterious song.
"A native ritual." Blazkowicz enlarged the image, playing everything Obelisk had recorded, and looked at the Emperor, saying, "It's also the reason I called you here."
Lion looked up, his gaze flitting between Blazkowicz and the Emperor; his heart was sinking, and his attitude toward his father was mediocre.
"Souls!" The Emperor ignored the tone, raising his hand to grasp the image; his majestic voice revealed a certain surprise: "What an unexpected harvest."
Surprise flashed in Sanguinius's eyes; his father, who rarely showed emotion, could hardly suppress the joy on his majestic and stoic face.
What value did Pandora have for him?
"A pearl lost in the vast sea." The Emperor's voice sounded again: "I didn't expect such a treasure to be born at the edge of darkness."
Seeing Sanguinius and Lion looking confused, the happy Emperor rarely explained: "The world spirit is soothing the departed souls, allowing the subjects to return to peace."
Lion caught the key point, his puzzled inquiry carrying a hint of testing: "Father, where do human souls go?"
Today, as human history entered 30K, the existence of souls was no longer a secret; psychic power originated from the soul, a supernatural force driven by the spirit.
"They have their own place." The Emperor's indifferent gaze swept over Lion, brushing him off with a non-answer, indicating he didn't want to respond.
Realizing his question had displeased his father, Lion fell silent, keeping his head down and his mind focused, no longer provoking him.
"Have you made a decision regarding Pandora?" Sanguinius spoke, immediately hitting the focus; his clear voice was full of affinity.
Lion understood perfectly that his brother was bailing him out and diverting the Emperor's attention.
"This is a precious gift." Before he could express his gratitude, the Emperor smiled again, his eyes full of gratification as he looked at Blazkowicz: "The world of Pandora is a ripe fruit, offered to me by your dear brother."
Blazkowicz could feel the Emperor's joy, but he also didn't understand how the Emperor intended to deal with Pandora.
"Lady Sophia." The Emperor called the artificial intelligence with great familiarity, "Retrieve the Salts archives."
No one answered in the empty hall; a holographic projection floated in the air, a lush jungle world suspended in comparison with Pandora.
"Salts once had a world spirit, but it was very weak." The Emperor held Salts in one hand and Pandora in the other: "Pandora's world spirit is fully mature, so I describe it as a fruit that can be plucked."
"The existence of Pandora amazes me; it perfectly meets my requirements."
"A great, transcendent plan will be perfectly continued through it; this time, I will not fail!"
A strong confidence burst from the Emperor, and a golden halo suddenly lit up. His tone was arrogant, almost like an oath; his domineering aura swept the field, overwhelming everyone present.
Lion and Sanguinius immediately knelt; they felt a determination, containing the supreme resolve that 'those who stand in the way shall die.'
Blazkowicz shielded Marie behind him, looking directly at the Emperor with a scrutinizing gaze, his eyes full of disdain.
What madness was he having now?
What extraordinary plan? He hadn't even said specifically how to handle it, just focused on his own outburst.
"Of course I have a plan!"
Seemingly stung by his gaze or perhaps noticing his own loss of composure, the Emperor withdrew his terrifying aura.
He used a gentle force to help his two sons up, and spoke to the void again: "Lady Sophia, please use an Astropathic Choir Message to contact Malcador and have him come to Nul to meet me; my plan needs his help."
"What exactly do you want to do?" Blazkowicz slowly let go of Marie, his low voice very serious, with a hint of questioning.
Sanguinius, adjusting his breathing, was surprised; Lion was even more unexpected: Why was Blazkowicz not affected by the Emperor's aura?
In the moment just now, they felt as if the sky was falling, the weight of the entire world pressing down on them, making even breathing difficult.
Yet his brother's face was as usual, not even a strand of hair moved; before the aura descended, he even had time to protect others.
Blazkowicz looked at the Emperor quietly; he saw through the illusion of the powerful psychic power, his gaze piercing directly at the face of the brownish-black middle-aged man, wanting the answer to his question.
The Emperor showed excited emotions, his reason crushed, a smile on his face, and his black eyes were watery.
Moreover, he had called for the Imperial Chancellor Malcador, which seemed highly unusual.
The Emperor and Malcador had a clear division of labor: one handled internal affairs, the other external; it was almost impossible for both of them to leave Terra at the same time.
"I am going to do something big!" The Emperor was not humble, casually crushing the projection of Salts and holding Pandora with both hands: "Something unprecedented."
He looked at Sanguinius and Lion, staring until their scalps tingled, and said after a moment of hesitation: "As the Great Crusade progresses, despite the Imperium of Man's repeated orders, it still cannot suppress humanity's faith in me."
The Emperor's words were deeply agreed upon by Blazkowicz and Sanguinius.
Humans are accustomed to believing in and relying on the strong; the golden, shining Emperor was undoubtedly the most ideal object of faith for mortals.
Lion didn't quite understand at the moment, but after some thought, he also nodded.
His golden father was like a god; if even he submitted to him, what about the relatively fragile-minded mortals?
"I will combine your question from earlier to provide some answers."
The Emperor looked at Lion and slowly explained: "Human souls have their own destination; there is no doubt about that."
"I am very sensitive to psychic power and souls; as the number of people who believe in me increases, I have gradually discovered a problem."
"In the last ten years, many fanatical believers, after their death, their souls did not go where they should have, but returned to my side."
"I cannot respond to them, causing the wandering souls to be dissolved by psychic power and completely disappear from the Material Universe."
The Emperor's eyes were trembling; the real situation was far more complex than the oral description, definitely not something that could be explained in a few sentences.
When the souls of believers dissolved, part of their consciousness would return to him; while strengthening his psychic power, it would also pollute his consciousness.
Although the pollution was extremely small and was instantly destroyed by his vast consciousness, the hidden danger still truly existed.
If not dealt with, the tiny consciousnesses would accumulate over time and one day affect his subjective will.
Before coming to Nul, in order to keep himself pure, the Emperor generally collected the souls and sent them into the Astronomican to be burned away.
Now, he had a new idea.
"I want to erase Pandora's self-will, let the world spirit establish a soul link with me, and accommodate the souls that return to my side."
"I see." Lion and Sanguinius deeply agreed, their faces filled with reverence.
Their father's great power was beyond imagination; his glory had already touched the realm of the soul, intending to create a place of rest for human souls.
Blazkowicz, knowing the seriousness of the matter, was suddenly shocked and stared at the Emperor with wide eyes, his gaze revealing a dangerous signal: You are playing with fire!
The Emperor slowly shook his head at Blazkowicz, not explaining too much with others present.
"Prepare a ship; I will personally go to Pandora for an inspection."