The second thing?
What is the second thing?
Aren't they just here to save the Emperor?
Zeke's words once again left everyone present bewildered; only the Emperor showed an understanding expression.
After all, he had fought alongside Zeke multiple times, so he knew exactly what kind of person Zeke was.
He believed it was impossible for Zeke to come here solely for him.
The Emperor of Mankind's current situation was dire, and Zeke deliberately intended to intervene.
"Rogal Dorn," Zeke's voice rang out at this moment.
"Here!" Rogal Dorn, who had still been a little red-eyed, immediately stood at attention upon hearing Zeke's words, as if facing the Emperor himself.
"Go see your sons. Tell the Space Marines of the Imperial Fists to pull themselves together. Humanity needs them to get back on their feet."
"I will restore your army to Legion strength later on!"
"Show me your true capabilities. If you can satisfy me, then you will be entrusted with a great responsibility. Humanity needs you."
"Demonstrate your abilities; do not disappoint me."
A sharp glint flashed in Rogal Dorn's eyes. He straightened his body, and a long-absent fighting spirit appeared on his iron-like face.
"As you command."
He turned and strode out of the golden throne room, his heavy power armour clanking dully on the palace floor.
It had been ten thousand years. He could finally lead his sons into battle again—and this time, the restrictions on Chapters that Guilliman had set for the Imperium's stability would be abolished. The Legions, best suited for the Imperial Fists' combat, would return!
Guilliman watched his brother's retreating back, his heart filled with both relief and complexity.
After all, the Astartes organization was his creation, and now it was being directly overturned by Zeke.
He turned to Zeke: "So, what do I need to do?"
Zeke smiled faintly: "You? Of course, you're going to deal with those politicians."
"What?" Guilliman frowned, "At a time like this, you want me to deal with the High Lords Council?"
"Go on, this is what you're best at. Go deal with them. I don't want to haggle with those fellows on the High Lords Council, so I'm entrusting this matter to you."
"You can act with confidence. Any army, including my Custodes and House Yaeger's forces, will be at your disposal. Any high lord who dare to oppose your reforms can be executed first and reported later."
"From now on, I appoint you as the Imperial Regent of the Imperium of Man."
With just a few words, Zeke granted Guilliman a level of authority beyond his imagination.
House Yaeger's army, Guilliman could now mobilize, and he could also mobilize Zeke's Custodes.
What this meant was, of course, self-evident.
Just as Zeke finished speaking, the Emperor also chimed in, addressing Guilliman.
"Mine too. My Custodes are also under your command."
"Just as Zeke just said, from now on, you are the Imperial Regent of the Imperium of Man. I can finally retire."
The Emperor's tone was full of joy; he could finally retire.
He could finally rest. Zeke had taken his place, and Guilliman had become the Imperial Regent. Everything was so wonderful.
Happy.
Zeke looked somewhat exasperatedly at the weary middle-aged man on the golden throne, whose expression was no different from a child's, and casually tossed him a holographic integrated game console.
This was a game console Zeke had personally crafted for the Emperor of Mankind, allowing him to play any game from the Terran Dominion while on the golden throne.
Moreover, it could directly connect to the networks of House Yaeger and Zeke's colonies, allowing real-time, lag-free gameplay.
"Go on and enjoy your games. You've sacrificed too much for humanity. You've endured ten thousand years of suffering, so I must allow you to be happier even while enduring that pain."
The Emperor's psychic power poured out, forming a giant hand that gently, tenderly, and carefully caught the game console Zeke had thrown him. The smile on his face was uncontrollable.
Retired, I'm retired, brothers!
I can finally retire. I finally don't have to bear such immense responsibility anymore.
For the Emperor, bearing responsibility was far more painful than enduring the torment himself.
The survival of the human race rested on him alone. This immense responsibility meant the Emperor dared not slack off for a single minute, not even a second.
And now, this responsibility was being shared, and Zeke had even given him his favorite game console. Could there be anything that made him happier than this moment?
Although his body still had to continuously power the golden throne to sustain the Astronomican's burning.
It also kept those demons at bay, but these slight pains vanished completely in the face of being able to play games.
Happy.
He had originally thought he would have to continue experiencing pain and slowly endure torment for another 400 years.
Now that Zeke had given him a game console, it was different.
He was an introvert by nature, so wouldn't sitting on the golden throne and playing games perfectly meet his needs?
The Emperor was very happy, so happy he couldn't speak, and simply started playing games, completely ignoring Zeke's presence.
Zeke looked at the master of mankind, the Emperor of Mankind, before him. He wanted to scold him but didn't.
Let the Emperor rest well by himself; he had already given enough for humanity.
However, before leaving, Zeke once again gave the Emperor a psychic construct, one strong enough to last for 12 hours.
"Take it. Whenever you want to stand up and rest, stand up for a bit, lest your hooks get smashed by those demons."
With that, Zeke's figure disappeared from the throne room. The vast throne room, apart from the Custodes, was left with only the Emperor.
The Emperor looked at the psychic power he had just received from Zeke, and solemnly put it away.
The feeling of having companions and comrades was truly wonderful; he was finally no longer fighting alone.
This feeling had been absent since the disappearance of the Imperial Regent Malcador ten thousand years ago, after which he had truly become a lonely figure.
And now, Zeke had appeared, and he felt he had companions again.
The Custodes looked at the Emperor, who was laughing like an idiot, and helplessly turned their heads, pretending not to see anything.
They were also in despair.
Should they blasphemously watch the Emperor laughing like an idiot and then laugh along with him?
That would be too blasphemous. It was better to quickly turn their heads and pretend not to see anything.
The throne room once again returned to its former tranquility, except for an idiotic Emperor who occasionally chuckled to himself.
In ten thousand years, this was his happiest moment.