After deciding the Dark Angels' fate, the Emperor personally met all thousands of captured Dark Angels. To maintain his dignity, he appeared via his avatar, a giant golden warrior wielding a greatsword, blocking the view of his decayed body on the Throne. This form matched his appearance in ancient records, far more imposing than the corpse on the Throne.
This not only preserved the Emperor's majesty but also inspired loyalty among Imperial citizens, who would spread tales of the Emperor alive and mighty on the Golden Throne.
The Dark Angels, now healed, knelt as soon as they saw the Emperor's avatar.
"Praise you, great Emperor, praise you," Azrael's voice trembled. The Emperor was truly alive, standing before them!
Azrael and all the Dark Angels bowed their heads in shame—they had attacked the Emperor's Custodes! Even if sentenced to penitence crusades or death, they had no complaints.
"Please forgive us, Emperor, forgive your Angels of Death."
Luther was the most emotional. As a man of ten thousand years ago, he had seen the Emperor in person—when the Emperor had come to Caliban to take the Lion, Luther had witnessed the Emperor's form. This golden giant was exactly the same, only ten times larger.
As an old-timer, Luther wasn't as religious as modern humanity—he respected, but did not blindly worship the Emperor, much like Rhodes.
"Emperor, can you rise from the Golden Throne now? You're stronger than ten thousand years ago," Luther said.
When the Heresy ended, Luther was already plotting against the Lion. The Emperor was rumored to be on the Throne then; he knew nothing of what came after. Could the Emperor have recovered? Was he an immortal psyker, even able to reconstitute from molecules?
"I've only recovered a little. The figure before you is my avatar; my real self is behind. Now, I will pronounce your sentences—do you accept?" the Emperor said coldly.
By his own judgment, Luther deserved a thousand deaths for his betrayal, which caused the Lion's ten-thousand-year slumber. But since he'd given the Lion the right to judge, he would keep his word.
"I am willing to repent, great Emperor. I was misled by Chaos, but did not fall—I turned back at the end," Luther pleaded.
"You were misled by Chaos, so you started a rebellion, destroyed a planet, and put my son—your gene-father and brother—to sleep for ten thousand years? If you'd just admitted it or even cursed me as a false Emperor and openly joined Chaos, I'd respect you more. But you try to defend yourself? You have no right!" the Emperor thundered, his psychic might crushing Luther to the floor.
Luther felt a mountain upon him—his innards hurt, his soul felt torn—this was the Emperor's fury. He truly felt unworthy.
Yes, the Emperor was right. How could turning back at the last minute erase his crimes? You can't kill someone and avoid punishment just by admitting fault. If you've erred, face it bravely—that's what a true warrior and Caliban knight should do.
Utterly ashamed, Luther choked out, "You're right, Emperor. I was wrong. I accept any punishment—even death."
"Hmph! I will not judge you yet. Stay kneeling until I say otherwise!" the Emperor barked.
After scolding Luther, the Emperor addressed the Dark Angels.
"You too have erred—betrayed the Imperium, shot your own brothers without hesitation. By my will, all should be executed; only death could atone. But now, the Imperium faces dire threats—worse than ten thousand years ago. I need you, so I will not send you on a pointless penitence crusade. You will serve in the Deathwatch as Blackshields, stripped of insignia. After a hundred years, you may reapply. Fight with all your strength; I will be watching," the Emperor decreed.
"Thank you for your mercy, great Emperor," all the Dark Angels bowed, banging their heads on the palace floor.
From today, they would rip off their insignias, erase all ties to their Chapter, and serve the Deathwatch, fighting against xenos, Chaos, and all enemies of mankind. Many resolved to die in the Deathwatch within a century, to atone.
The next day, the judgment was broadcast to all Imperial Legions.
Upon hearing, the Blood Angels, Ultramarines, Imperial Fists, Space Wolves, White Scars, Iron Hands, Raven Guard, Salamanders, and others condemned the Dark Angels. The Deathwatch assured them the Dark Angels would be put in the hardest, deadliest units.
With the trial ended, Rhodes, the Emperor, and the Primarchs began reviving the Lion.
Originally, reviving the Lion required soul-healing, which the Emperor had planned to attempt in a hundred years, with the help of the Eldar's God of Death. But now, with Isha and Rhodes, they could do it without Eldar aid.
"Begin. Let Isha restore his body first," Rhodes nodded to the Goddess of Life.
Isha smiled and infused the Lion with divine life energy, restoring his aged body and turning his hair gold once more.
With the Goddess present, bodily wounds were no concern. If not for the Golden Throne and the Dark King, the Emperor could have risen immediately.
"It's done. The rest is up to you," Isha said.
"Thank you, Goddess. Humanity will never forget your kindness," the Emperor said sincerely.
She had not only given the plague cure to the Eldar but also to humanity and other races—wherever Nurgle's plague appeared, she helped.
"Let's begin. Father, let's use our psychic powers to heal the Lion's soul, with the Cosmic Beast's order," Guilliman said.
"Yes, let's start. Rhodes, Elena, your psychic strength is enough—join in," the Emperor said.
Vulkan, Guilliman, Magnus, Rhodes, and Elena all channeled their psychic might to aid the Emperor in repairing the Lion's soul.
With the power of the Cosmic Beast, Primarchs, and the Emperor's golden might, the Lion's soul was slowly restored and even strengthened.
After a full day and night, the Lion's soul reached its best state.
"Rhodes, summon death zombies, and let him use death's power to revive the Lion," the Emperor ordered.
Only the final step remained—reviving the Lion in the spiritual realm. Rhodes summoned Sealizar, who injected gray-white death energy into the Lion, awakening his soul.
In the Lion's spirit world, he journeyed through a strange forest, encountering many things.
The Lion's eyelids fluttered, then opened. He sat up, dazed, rubbing his head and looking around.
Three unfamiliar people—one man, two women—stood nearby, along with his father and his brothers, both familiar and not.
Why familiar? They wore his brothers' faces, but their bodies didn't match. Since when was Vulkan just two meters tall? When did Guilliman shrink?
Suddenly, the Lion's eyes narrowed, then flared with rage. Like a waking lion, he pounced on Magnus, knocking him down and pounding his face.
"I'll kill you, Magnus!"
Magnus smiled wryly, dropping his defenses and letting the Lion pummel him bloody.
"Enough, Lion! Magnus was following my orders, infiltrating Chaos. He is not a traitor!" the Emperor's voice rang out.