he Emperor's psychic projection suddenly appeared in the ship's cabin, and a golden light instantly filled the entire space. Guilliman immediately knelt on one knee: "Father!"
Rogal Dorn's body stiffened abruptly.
He slowly raised his head, and when he saw that familiar yet unfamiliar figure, a crack finally appeared in his steel-like will.
"This... impossible..." Dorn's voice trembled, "Khorne couldn't perfectly simulate..."
The Emperor did not speak, but simply stretched out his hand and gently pressed it on Dorn's forehead.
In an instant, pure psychic energy, like a clear spring, poured into Dorn's soul, which had been contaminated for ten thousand years.
Zeke deliberately did not clean all of these things, just waiting for the Emperor to take the final step.
The marks branded by Khorne began to peel away, revealing Dorn's original soul essence.
"My child..." The Emperor's voice was low but warm, "Welcome home."
Dorn's pupils contracted violently.
He felt a long-lost, pure warmth.
It was a feeling that only the true Emperor could bestow.
Khorne could imitate appearance, could copy memories, but could never recreate this most essential emotional connection between father and son.
"Fa...ther?" Dorn's voice was almost inaudible.
The next second, this iron warrior suddenly tilted forward like a puppet with cut strings. The Emperor caught him in time, finding that Dorn had fallen into a deep coma.
This was the soul's self-preservation mechanism after undergoing violent purification.
Guilliman stepped forward worriedly: "Father, he..."
"He will be fine." The Emperor gently placed Dorn on the sofa, "His soul needs time to heal itself. For these ten thousand years... he has endured too much."
Zeke, who was battling Khorne in the Warp, also saw this scene inside his battleship, and the corners of his mouth curved upwards.
There were already too many tragedies in this universe; let there be a few more comedies like this.
Khorne naturally also noticed this; he saw the Emperor personally intervening, but at this moment, he had no leisure to deal with the Emperor, as he was fully immersed in his battle with Zeke.
"Again!" Khorne roared, raising his great axe and fiercely cleaving towards Zeke, who, in a great mood, was also brimming with fighting spirit.
Wielding his sword with both hands, he also fiercely cleaved a sword strike towards Khorne.
The Warp storms in the Warp became even more violent, and the battle between the two top gods began to penetrate the Warp, preparing to enter the real universe.
Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Slaanesh, knowing that the chaos daemon would devour energy, finally had no choice but to use their powers to block the torrent of power from Khorne and Zeke.
This was to prevent this power from entering the real universe, which would allow those chaos daemon to survive or for someone to escape into the Warp.
Inside the battleship, the Emperor did not leave; he stayed with his two sons.
He did not need to concern himself with matters of the Warp; what he needed to do now was to spend time with his children.
For ten thousand years, none of his Primarchs had lived a good life, so he felt that he seemed to need to make some amends, to make up for the fatherly love he had not yet sufficiently given.
The clash between Zeke and Khorne lasted a full six hours; neither side knew how many moves had passed, but they finally stopped.
Khorne truly lived up to his titles as God of War and Battle; his combat power was immense. Zeke ended up with a black eye.
In return, Khorne's hands were both severed by Zeke and tossed aside.
This battle once again established Zeke's status as the first Chaos God in the Warp to others.
No one could contend with Zeke in a one-on-one fight, not even Khorne, who was most skilled in single combat.
As the battle ended, Zeke returned to his battleship. At this time, the Emperor's figure also disappeared from inside Zeke's battleship.
Logically speaking, Zeke's psychic entity could not have lasted for eight hours.
However, Zeke infused that psychic entity with more chaos daemon energy, gaining more time for the Emperor.
It was still the same sentiment: Zeke preferred comedies to tragedies. The Warhammer universe had too many tragedies, and he disliked seeing so many of them.
The figures of both appeared simultaneously in the battleship. As Zeke's figure gradually solidified, the Emperor's figure was also gradually disappearing; his time was up.
However, before completely disappearing, the Emperor still cast a smile at Zeke.
As someone who was once socially anxious, he now unreservedly showed his goodwill towards Zeke.
Such a scene could be said to have exceeded the memories of both Rogal Dorn and Guilliman.
When had their own father ever shown such an expression? During the Great Crusade, they had never seen their father display such an expression.
The scene before him made Guilliman feel very unfamiliar, but it also gave him the courage to voice his greatest ambition.
"Father... once everything is stable, may I invite you and all surviving brothers to dinner?"
This sudden request made the Emperor pause.
After a moment of silence, he softly said: "That is a... very good suggestion, Guilliman."
As the Emperor's projection dissipated, Guilliman found his lips curving upwards uncontrollably.
He looked out the viewport at Terra, which was gradually approaching, and for the first time truly felt that this broken galaxy might genuinely have a chance to heal again.
His father was no longer fighting alone but had a companion.
Zeke, the heir from House Yaeger, humanity's new hope.
His appearance had alleviated so much burden for the Emperor.
Such a human giant signified too many things.
When Zeke's figure was fully solidified and the Emperor's projection had completely dissipated, a strange tranquility fell over the battleship.
Guilliman cautiously observed Zeke—the bruise on this mysterious being's right eye was fading at a visible rate.
When Zeke's appearance returned to normal, Guilliman, with great foresight, stepped forward and bowed deeply to Zeke.
"Thank you very much, truly, for everything you have done for us, Uncle Yaeger."
Guilliman expressed his gratitude to Zeke with great sincerity, but Zeke did not accept it as nonchalantly as he had joked before.
After all, he was only a 19-year-old youth.
And the Roboute Guilliman before him, if you included the time he existed in his stasis field, had also lived for over ten thousand years.
Even if Zeke added his age from his previous life, it still wouldn't amount to a fraction of Guilliman's age, so when Guilliman called him that, Zeke's face clearly showed a hint of awkwardness.
However, this 'Uncle' was sincere for Roboute Guilliman.
Not only him, but Rogal Dorn also reawakened at this moment.
Upon seeing Zeke, he also sincerely knelt down and kowtowed deeply to Zeke.
To him, if not for Zeke's intervention, he would still be tormented by Khorne and would not have been able to see his father, because his father didn't even know he had been captured.
Everything he had now was brought to him by Zeke, and at the same time, he saw a father full of humanity, something he had never encountered ten thousand years ago.
Facing their sincere gratitude, Zeke, after an initial period of discomfort, chose to accept it calmly.
He was worthy of such respect, because without him, such things would simply be impossible in the Warhammer universe.
Of course, he did not let them maintain such etiquette for too long; a gentle psychic force lifted them back up.
Especially Rogal Dorn.
Zeke once again used his psychic power to place him back on the sofa.
"Get some good rest. We'll arrive at Terra in two hours. Think about how to face your Chapters, the Imperial Fists. It's time to prepare to meet your heirs."