With Tzeentch's fleeting intervention quelled, the Dual Masters of Mankind descended from the twin thrones. They approached Karl Reiss, two towering figures before a single mortal—the weight of history pressing down on him. The rite of investiture, personally conducted by the Emperor, was about to begin.
Before the kneeling mortal, the two Sovereigns raised their blades—Zeke's glittering power sword and the Emperor's own radiant weapon. They crossed the points over Reiss's pauldron. Their voices, unified and ringing with psychic authority, boomed across the galaxy:
**In the name of Mankind, and by the will of the Terran Dominion, you are, from this moment forth, the Imperium's new Imperial Warmaster!**
The Burden of the Solar Lord
The televised moment galvanized the Imperium. A mortal had received the highest sanction imaginable, his authority now transcending that of the High Lords. The newly named Lord Warmaster, however, felt only paralyzing dread.
His selfish ambition—to merely reclaim his lost homeworld—had escalated into this cosmic burden. Standing before two living Gods, who knew his every thought and past plan, his initial fervor curdled into bone-deep terror.
He was not a savior; he was just a captain who wanted glory, and now the rusty machinery of the Imperium was being forced back to high speed upon his shoulders.
The broadcast ended. The two Golden Figures departed Lion's Gate, leaving Karl Reiss kneeling, unable to rise.
Two thousand Custodians—one thousand from the Emperor's personal guard and one thousand from the Dominion's elite—formed a protective perimeter around the paralyzed man.
No one helped him up. He remained on the stone, praying to the two human deities for guidance, overwhelmed by the profound responsibility he had just accepted.
Zeke's appointment of Reiss was based on cold, strategic necessity, not sentiment. Predictive models run by the Terran Dominion had confirmed Reiss's competence to lead the Imperial mortal armies.
The Dominion needed its full focus and fleet to counter the impending Tyranid Swarm and prepare for the inevitable conflict with the Necrons across the galaxy.
Zeke had no time for the lesser conflicts of Chaos and Xenos.
Appointing a competent mortal commander allowed him to pivot toward the existential threats.
As for the Emperor, he was more than happy to acquiesce. Ten millennia of agony had earned him a quiet respite.
He trusted Zeke completely, recognizing that humanity now had a powerful, reliable protector. The dark future he had foreseen was shattered, and the heavy burden was finally lifted.
The Emperor was ready to be a retired shut-in, supporting Zeke's decisions while waiting for the day he could be released entirely from the Throne.