His actions would kill two of his other brothers?!
Magnus's mind trembled; he hardly dared to think that if this were to come true, how would he face his blood brothers? How would he atone for his sins?
He did not doubt if the Emperor had exaggerated, for his father disdained lying and would not inflate the facts to intimidate him.
Before the Emperor's arrival, Magnus still harbored a glimmer of hope, believing that no matter what he did, his original intention was always good.
He could emphasize this original kindness based on his starting point, allowing his father to reduce the punishment as appropriate.
But now, the color drained from Magnus's crimson cheeks, turning cold amidst palpitations; his whole being felt as if it had fallen into an ice cellar.
The Crimson King was filled with both grief and shame, finally realizing that his good intentions had led to a disaster: by shattering the barrier his father had set up, he had triggered even more severe consequences.
Not just Magnus, but the Emperor, looking down at his son and recalling the situation at that time, still felt the lingering fear in his heart.
If not for Blazkowicz, between the Soul-binding ceremony and the safety of his two sons, Chaos would have guided the development of events, forcing him to make a choice.
Save the sons, and the soul-binding would completely fail, causing humanity to lose the chance to escape Chaos.
If he remained unmoved, the daemon army would break through the lines of the Custodes and Sisters of Silence, drowning the Primarchs and destroying the Soul-binding ceremony.
In the end, it would all be for naught.
No matter what choice was made, Chaos would lose nothing, while he would achieve nothing, and might even suffer heavy losses due to Chaos's schemes.
"Please punish me, Father." His voice was low and hoarse; Magnus's self-reproach was hard to dispel. He did not dare to look directly at the Emperor with his ashamed gaze and took the initiative to admit his guilt.
He finally understood that in the unseen shadows, a terrible game had already unfolded.
And his "good intentions" had been exploited by the enemy of the Emperor to be used against the Emperor and his Primarch brothers.
Perhaps from the very beginning, the enemy of humanity had calculated everything.
That Warp fragment containing future information was also something they had specifically sent to him to guide the course of fate.
Although the future fragment was not fake, the snippets it displayed reversed cause and effect, distorting the true order of events.
He himself was the "cause," and all his actions had brought about that inevitable "effect."
In an instant, letting go of his inner hope and scrutinizing his actions, Magnus gained much insight, and his heart grew increasingly heavy.
The Emperor nodded in silence. From the act of accepting punishment, he saw deep reflection—realizing the mistake and then facing it head-on showed a sense of responsibility.
"You may ask one question." The Commander of the Imperial Guard, Valdor, spoke again, his tone flat and devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "I will work backward from your question to decide how to deal with you."
As the Commander of the Imperial Guard finished speaking, the Emperor withdrew his pressure, allowing Magnus to think wholeheartedly about how to ask his question without external interference.
Drip, drop...
Stones suspended in the void fell; the atmosphere on the scene suddenly relaxed. The Space Marines wanted to gasp for breath but feared disturbing the Emperor and the Primarch, so they slowly climbed up from the cracked floor.
They were cautious, supporting each other, and after a brief recovery, they knelt properly once more, turning their gazes toward the Primarch.
The Emperor had dispersed the pressure, but the Custodes and Sisters of Silence were ready.
The Primarch's next answer would concern the entire Legion. Whether they received forgiveness or faced Absolute Censure depended entirely on the Primarch's next question.
Magnus did not stand up; he knelt on the rubble, feeling the stinging pain, which made him feel a bit better inside.
His self-proclaimed act of kindness had almost led to a catastrophic mistake, ruining his father's plan and harming his blood brothers; he would not forgive himself for the folly he had committed.
Kneeling on the shattered stone slabs, he bowed his head and thought seriously.
One question. His father didn't want a question; he wanted to see his attitude through the question.
Attitude? What attitude?
The Primarch's brain worked at high speed, replaying the beginning and end of the event countless times in his mind to peel back the layers and find the answer.
Magnus thought calmly, his thoughts constructing a Mind Palace. He became a bystander, watching countless replays of the past.
From obtaining the Warp fragment—to launching the psychic ritual—to shattering the Golden Barrier—
Everything happened too coincidentally; the time, place, and people seemed like a stage play rehearsed countless times to reach the final result.
It was as if there was a pair of giant hands—
Realizing the connection points, Magnus's crimson body shuddered; he had thought of the key to the problem.
The Warp, the enemy of humanity, and his father's warnings all linked together in an instant, prompting him to ask one question.
"Who is the enemy?" The question was not complex, just four simple words, but it made Magnus grit his teeth as rage surged from his chest.
By now, he finally knew.
Enemies existed within the Warp; mysterious entities had directed everything, making a fool of the Crimson King.
And those enemies hidden in the Warp were the terrifying existences his father had warned him about time and again but found difficult to state clearly.
Connecting the cause and effect, Magnus finally understood—the Warp was not just an ocean of knowledge; it also hid great horrors.
Hearing this inquiry, under the shroud of golden light, the Emperor's expression was somewhat complex.
He was gratified that Magnus had finally realized it, but also lamented that realization always required a price; without external factors to catalyze it, many people would struggle to understand it in their entire lives.
The Emperor did not answer the inquiry; he slowly raised his arm, closing his palm and leaving only one index finger pointed at his son.
Magnus seemed to sense something and looked up; his crimson eyes looked at his golden father, and he saw acknowledgment.
His nature to seek knowledge was stirring, urging him to speak, to continue delving into the answer and to know the full truth.
But in an instant, golden lightning flashed, leaving no chance for the inquiry to be voiced.
Lightning erupted from the tip of the Emperor's index finger, turning into a golden light that pierced directly into Magnus's left eye. The latter let out a howl of agony.
In front of the Library of Prospero, the crimson giant let out a beast-like wail, the sound echoing into a wave of air that shattered the floating clouds in the sky.
Golden lightning flooded into his left eye. Magnus opened his arms and endured the impact, feeling his soul being torn apart!
The Space Marines instinctively rose, wanting to protect the Gene-Father, only to be startled by the cold gaze of the Commander of the Imperial Guard, not daring to make another move.
""
The Legion Warriors turned their heads and blocked their hearing, unable to bear listening to the pain their Gene-Father was suffering.
When the lightning dissipated and the Emperor's power gradually subsided, Magnus fell to the ground.
He felt some changes; a certain talent in his body had been strengthened, and the connection between his soul and his father's was even tighter.
"Lead your Legion to the Astronomican on Terra and set up a Psychic Array."
Valdor explained on behalf of the Emperor again: "I have strengthened the soul connection between you and me. Even across the galaxy, we can begin to communicate through sensing, which is faster than an Astropathic Choir Message."
"In this war, you have only one task: to serve as the liaison between the front lines and Terra, quickly relaying intelligence between the front and the rear."
"The war between the Rangdan Empire and the Imperium of Man will tear the galaxy apart. I must personally oversee the front lines to ensure victory."
"Other matters will wait until the war is over. The specific handling of your case will temporarily come to a close for now."
Having said that, the Emperor gave Magnus a deep look, turned, wrapped his cloak around him, and departed.
"I understand." Magnus knelt, watching his father board the shuttle.
The engine's air currents blew up rubble, hitting his face like a rainstorm; he chose to endure the pain as a reminder of his own arrogance.
The golden shuttle entered space, sailed into the golden greatship, and lit its engines to head toward the Mandeville Point.
Magnus slowly stood up, withdrew his gaze from the void, and turned to look at his Gene-sons.
His crimson face was extremely serious; he knew that guarding Terra was the only chance for atonement his father had given him.
"Assemble the Legion." The Crimson King faced his Gene-sons, his voice calm as he began to issue orders: "Legion Warriors, follow me to Terra to coordinate frontline communications."
His lips quivered, showing the owner's hesitation, but finally, he spoke a prohibition: "From now on, the Legion will suspend research into the Warp. We need to regain our sense of awe."
"Until the Rangdan war is over, we will devote ourselves entirely to the communication task and not cause any more trouble."
His gaze swept across the pale faces of his scions, seeing their bewildered expressions. He sighed inwardly but also felt a bit fortunate.
The Warp had obsessed the Legion, even making it difficult for him to extricate himself, believing it to be a treasure trove waiting to be developed while ignoring the dangers within.
If his father had not come in person today to shatter those illusions with cruel facts, the Legion's fate might have slid into the abyss.
"Prepare to set sail." Magnus lifted his robes, shaking off the rubble clinging to them. "Take the communication task seriously. Even away from the battlefield, we bear a heavy responsibility."
"Understood!" The Legion Warriors raised their arms and shouted, shaking off their disheveled state and preparing to head to Terra.
Three hours later, the Thousand Sons boarded the Legion's flagship, The Photep. The ship with its pyramid-shaped bridge set sail, heading for Terra to carry out its mission.