Eisenhorn was old.
The once spirited Inquisitor, who struck fear into the enemies of humanity, was now gray-haired and a shadow of his former self.
Eisenhorn, a High Inquisitor of the Imperium, was once seen as an enemy of humanity and hunted relentlessly by the entire Imperium.
Later, he went to great lengths to prove his loyalty and innocence, and hunted down and killed the instigator, the Heretic Inquisitor Quixos, who was believed by the Inquisition to have died many years ago and had struck fear throughout the galaxy.
Killing Quixos was his moment of fame, but not his peak.
Eisenhorn had achieved great things; he wandered outside the Emperor's Astromican, eradicating remnants of xenos believed by the Imperial Administratum to be extinct long ago.
He even used a daemon prince to destroy a fallen Emperor-class Titan.
He repeatedly used daemons to fight other daemons.
He thwarted a heretical plot that sought to destroy a sector.
He expelled the heretics who lurked within human worlds.
Of course, behind these glories lay a heartbreaking cost.
His former friends and disciples, his lover, all died in the battles against daemons.
Only he was left, clinging to life in this world.
Eisenhorn remembered the death of every companion.
His brain had been modified to remember everything, ensuring no detail was lost when fighting heresy.
For an old Inquisitor, this ability was a form of torture.
The way his companions died was etched into his mind, never to be erased by time, accompanying him, tormenting him, until the day he died.
Eisenhorn was plagued by the same problem; a priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus had once offered to delete his memories.
But he couldn't bear to lose the only trace of his companions left in this world, so he could only live in pain.
The life-extending surgery performed over a hundred years ago was still effective, and Eisenhorn could still live for several more decades.
Of course, these decades were destined to be spent in solitude, daily chewing over the sorrow brought by the deaths of those he cared about.
He tried to continue fighting the heretics and daemons who sought to destroy the Imperium, to let them know that the wrath of Inquisitor Eisenhorn had not yet been extinguished.
Unfortunately, while his lifespan remained, his physical capabilities no longer supported his terrible adventures.
The artificial implants in his body tormented him; any high-intensity movement would cause him excruciating pain.
Eisenhorn had not expected to be summoned by the Imperial Regent.
Having fought xenos and daemons for many years, he knew well the power of a Primarch.
There were countless terrifying, unimaginable xenos in the galaxy.
They were powerful, bizarre, and possessed unimaginable strength.
Every time an Inquisitor eradicated one, they paid a heavy price.
Yet the Primarchs had swept away those monsters, building the Imperium that continues to this day on the ruins of the xenos.
Led by several Imperial attendants, Eisenhorn walked down the wide marble corridor.
Portraits of many memorable Inquisitors who had sacrificed themselves to uphold the Imperium and protect humanity hung on these corridors.
They had fulfilled their oaths and were therefore worthy of remembrance.
Eisenhorn didn't know if he was worthy of being hung on this corridor, perhaps not.
In his long career as an Inquisitor, his sins were as numerous as his merits.
Using the power of daemons was a stain he could never wash away, and he had repeatedly attacked other Inquisitor teams to quickly extricate himself and deal with the trouble at hand.
Beyond the corridor was a majestic Inquisitorial Hall.
Honor Guards in Terminator armor stood on either side, scrutinizing Eisenhorn as he entered the hall.
"Those boltguns, just one shot, and I'd probably be in pieces," Eisenhorn thought to himself as he saw the boltguns in their hands.
The caliber of space marine boltguns was even more terrifying than those used by Inquisitors and Battle Sisters.
He had seen these Angels of the Emperor in action many times during past missions.
When these armored warriors were thrown into battle, everyone who opposed them should have felt fear.
Space Marines were true war machines; nothing could withstand their power.
Several servo-skulls hovered in the air, their scanners emitting crimson light, sweeping over Eisenhorn.
After confirming there were no issues, the servo-skulls ascended, continuing to circle throughout the hall.
Entering the hall, the first person Eisenhorn saw was Covenant, who was standing respectfully to the side.
He had never seen an Inquisitor so obedient and polite.
Inquisitors without a superior often didn't even pay much mind to the Imperial Senate.
A giant in azure armor sat on a massive chair, reviewing numerous documents classified as top secret.
His face was perfect and solemn, and simply sitting there, he exuded an irresistible charisma.
"My lord, he has arrived," Covenant said.
Guilliman turned around and looked at the gray-haired Eisenhorn; years of combat had cost the Inquisitor many flesh and blood limbs, forcing him to replace them with mechanical prosthetics.
"You may leave for now, I have some questions I need to ask him alone," Guilliman said.
Covenant nodded, performed the Aquila sign, and then walked out.
The hall was cleared, leaving only Eisenhorn and Guilliman.
"My lord Primarch, what do you wish to ask?" Eisenhorn's tone was humble.
Before him was not the useless lot from the Senate, but a Primarch who had lived in the age of myth.
Any disrespect would be foolish.
"You have summoned daemons and commanded them; I have seen several accusations regarding you in the data archives. You have even fought alongside a daemon multiple times."
"Yes, my lord. At that time, I had no other choice, I..."
Before Eisenhorn could finish explaining, he was interrupted by Guilliman.
"You don't need to explain, I understand."
Eisenhorn's heart tensed; he didn't know if this great figure intended to punish his rebellion.
Even though the Inquisition now considered him innocent and allowed him to teach new recruits at the Inquisitorial Academy, Eisenhorn knew that a Primarch could easily overturn all of that.
"To fight against those terrible things for humanity, any means are forgivable. Only the most despicable, the most shameless, the most unscrupulous people can achieve the final victory."
Guilliman's words stunned Eisenhorn for a moment; he realized that the other party was not here to punish him.
"My lord." Eisenhorn didn't know what to say.
"Eisenhorn, are you loyal to the Imperium?"
Guilliman's tone shifted, asking with some solemnity.
"My lord, I am infinitely loyal to the Imperium."
"Then do you love humanity and are willing to give everything for its survival?"
"My lord, I have served for centuries, fighting countless daemons. My friends, disciples, and even my lover, all died in those terrifying battles. I have already given everything for humanity."
"Very good, Eisenhorn, then are you willing to bear the burden for the Imperium and humanity once more? To again endure the accusations of the ignorant, to walk in the darkness until the dawn arrives, until humanity is saved."
Guilliman's gaze fixed on Eisenhorn; his tone was unprecedentedly solemn, making Eisenhorn understand that this was no joke.
"My lord, I am willing."
Eisenhorn answered quickly, without giving himself time to think.
Living in solitude, breathing his last on a sickbed, should not be the fate of an Inquisitor.
Dying on the battlefield fighting the enemies of humanity, that is the fate of an Inquisitor.
"Can you swear? That you will walk in darkness, uphold your original intention of protecting humanity, and never reveal what you do unless the dawn arrives, and that no matter whether you face accusations or the threat of death, you will never question what you do."
Eisenhorn raised his hand, "I swear that until the dawn of the Imperium arrives, I will uphold my oath, never reveal and never question what I do."
"I hope you can keep the oath you have sworn, Eisenhorn. I need you to do something for me. This matter doesn't look glorious. It looks treasonous, but it is extremely important."
"What matter, my lord?" Eisenhorn asked.