The Emperor's words left everyone present bewildered—they could not fathom what their great Emperor intended to do.
"My people, this story begins with a child. In order to complete the Great Crusade, I personally destroyed the perfect city he had created.
I broke that child's heart. But if I had to choose again, I would still do the same." The Emperor, holding nothing back, recounted the events of the Monarchia City to all the citizens, to everyone on Holy Terra.
"Great Emperor, that child—was he a Primarch?"
"Great Emperor, why are you telling us the story of that traitor?"
Some high-ranking Imperial officials, nobles, and even Ecclesiarchy members who knew the deeper truth immediately showed fearful expressions.
They knew this story well—it was a legend from ten thousand years ago, recorded in history books.
"At that time, what that child did was wrong. He worshipped me as a god! I wanted to tell him I was not a god! But after I sat on the Golden Throne, my thinking changed. If not for the prayers and hopes of all mankind, I could not have endured ten thousand years on the Golden Throne, nor preserved humanity for so long. Humanity would have perished ten thousand years ago!
That child's mistake ended up saving the entire Imperium ten millennia later. The scriptures he wrote became the holiest treasures of the Ecclesiarchy—he is its true father, the real founder.
He is Lorgar, Primarch of the Seventeenth Legion, author of the sacred texts, the true founder of the Ecclesiarchy." The Emperor chose to reveal part of the truth.
Maybe there was no need to hide Chaos anymore. For ten thousand years, mankind has covered up the existence of Chaos and its gods, trying to create a world without deities. But the Emperor realized—after all this time, he had been utterly wrong.
The common people knew nothing of Chaos or the truth behind the betrayal. All they knew was that Warmaster Horus rebelled against the Imperium ten thousand years ago.
They wanted to overthrow the Emperor's rule, but did not understand why the Warmaster turned, nor why the original Warmaster later returned to the Emperor's side.
The ordinary masses had no idea about Chaos Space Marines or Chaos Daemons; they thought the Warp was just an ethereal void.
At this moment, some high officials and foreign dignitaries sensed that something momentous was about to happen—the Emperor was about to break a tradition that had lasted ten thousand years!
"During the Great Crusade ten thousand years ago, I deceived all of humanity! I lied to you, claiming this world was materialistic, that only science existed. But that was false!
There are gods in this world—immensely powerful gods!" The Emperor's voice thundered through the crowd, shaking every Imperial citizen to their core. They stared in disbelief at the towering Emperor before them.
"Emperor, are you that god? Are you the god you speak of?"
"It must be so! The great Emperor is the one true god, leading us always!"
"The Golden Throne is your divine seat!" The crowd shouted, hoping for the Emperor's affirmation.
"No! I am not the most powerful of these gods. They dwell within the Warp—they are the antithesis of reality, the embodiment of corruption, the very face of evil, apostles of chaos.
They each represent a hopeless, maddening emotion. In the Warp, four most wicked gods reign.
They constantly seek to corrupt humanity's souls, to drag them into the abyss—into their hellish pits, striving to damn my people." The Emperor declared.
Today, at this very moment, he would reveal truths about this world. He would let every Imperial citizen, even mere mortals, know about the existence of Chaos Daemons.
For endless concealment was pointless. Hiding the truth only made it easier for Chaos cultists to spread their faith. People, ignorant of the truth, believed they were worshipping a benevolent god—when in fact, it was the vilest of deities.
Many Imperial worlds were filled with oppression, the people's lives worse than death—truly miserable.
For every servitor working in the forges, there was once a living soul behind those mechanical frames—slaves bound to the assembly lines, former living Imperial citizens!
In such wretched conditions, the masses did not know the truth. If a god promising hope and happiness appeared, it was all too easy for mortals to fall. But if they knew the truth—that the other side was a demon—would they still cross over?
"I have another story to tell you—of a fallen, demonic world.
Eight thousand years after I took the Golden Throne, a planet was overrun by Chaos Space Marines. It became a daemon world.
There, the people were ruled by Slaanesh, the Prince of Excess. Humans there have six fingers, each with four joints; their tongues are as long as serpents, eyes violet, hooves twisted like a ram's.
They call this beauty.
There is no distinction of male or female; everyone is both, able to impregnate and be impregnated.
Infants are born in six months. At birth, they do not cry—they laugh uproariously, feeling endless joy and bliss.
Each is a perfect artist, learning painting and music from childhood. They paint with blood, craft instruments from human bones.
They live only thirty-six years, then die laughing. Every 216 years, the whole planet holds a grand sacrificial carnival.
All dress in sheer robes, dance lascivious dances, and walk the six lanes of the Carnival Of Chaos.
Their flesh is flayed, souls torn apart, their screams sharp as razors—ground to powder in a daemon-raising ritual, birthing a daemon prince.
Every 216 years, the entire population is sacrificed, becoming food and fodder for daemons.
Then new humans are sent to the planet, to be corrupted in turn. Such is the world of daemons." The Emperor told a story that sounded absurd and terrifying—but was real. A world infected by Slaanesh.
Slaanesh loves the number six, so all things on that world revolve around it—lifespans of thirty-six years, six fingers, births every six months, and wholesale sacrifice every 216 years.
This story echoed over all of Holy Terra, chilling every soul.
The ancients could not believe that, under the Emperor's rule, such depraved and cruel worlds existed.
"G-Great Emperor, those evil beings—your Angels of Death will destroy them, right?"
"They will be destroyed, but they were once human! There are countless such hells, full of Imperial citizens, corrupted into living nightmares." The Emperor replied.
Compared to the other Chaos Gods, Slaanesh's worlds are, in a way, less terrible.
At least there, people live to thirty-six, can attend school, learn art, sing songs.
On Khorne's worlds, from birth, there is only war.
On Nurgle's worlds, your body is riddled with maggots and disease, stench and rot, yet you feel only bliss.
The Emperor's words terrified all listeners—they had never imagined that, without his protection, the worlds ruled by Chaos were so horrific.
"Once, a planetary governor believed Slaanesh would grant him immortality and pleasure. He sacrificed half his world's population to summon Slaanesh's armies.
But he received no reward.
His son was flayed alive, reduced to a skeleton. His wife was skinned before his eyes and danced, shrieking in agony.
He himself was butchered piece by piece. That is Chaos. That is the truth of it all." spoke Rhodes.
This was his first direct encounter with daemons, the Emperor's first appearance in this form.
The Emperor was right—rather than conceal the truth for ten thousand years, it was better to let everyone know the horror of Chaos, so all, even planetary governors, would understand the true price of worshipping Chaos.
Aisha, standing by Rhodes, smiled stiffly. 'Back then, my mind was clouded by Chaos too! I was a victim! It's all Slaanesh's fault—I need to get rid of this cursed power, let someone else have it!'
"What blasphemy!"
"Great Emperor, please destroy those heretics! We beg you—purge those wicked heretics!" Countless humans began to pray.
After today, the Emperor's speech would spread to every world under Imperial rule; all the lowliest citizens would come to know the terror of Chaos!
"Step forward, stand before the people! My son! Let the true founder of the Ecclesiarchy lead his church."