Heidrich-Mengel.
My eleventh son.
He is the curse of the gods upon me.
He is fate's mockery of me.
——————Lord of Mankind, the Emperor
As the lingering echoes of the final battle and slaughter slowly faded in those bloody hells of flesh and gore, as the King of the Pure Maiden's psychic chant, accompanied by her soft sighs, transformed into venomous whispers and breezes, turning those detestable, those pathetic, those terrifying creations, one by one, into dust beneath her heel.
In the deepest reaches of this Underworld Kingdom, in a place where even Primarchs would not willingly linger, another meeting had already begun.
Just after Morgana left the desolate grand hall that filled her with an inexplicable pity, the quiet atmosphere did not last long: the ripples stirred by the Spider Queen had barely dissipated when another dazzling golden light burst forth without warning, plunging the entire hall into a brilliant chill.
The Lord of Mankind, the Emperor, his magnificent and towering figure enveloped in unique golden armor, was like a sun walking in the dark mortal world.
He appeared, looked up, his gaze devoid of sorrow or joy, sweeping across this dim realm. When his burning eyes focused on the distorted auras drawn by death, sin, and blasphemy, these invisible mad laughs, enough to unnerve a Primarch, silently dissolved in his scorching flames, leaving not a trace.
The Lord of Mankind appeared here, his inviolable figure constantly suspended above the dusty ground. He surveyed, breathed, then locked onto his target, fixing his ruthless gaze on the hideous corpse upon the throne.
"My Lord."
As the empty hall, due to the arrival of the Lord of Mankind, transformed from distorted dimness into glorious stillness, Malcador's ethereal figure also appeared in the Emperor's shadow.
Compared to the Lord of Mankind's firm and brilliant psychic projection, the Sigillite's projection was undoubtedly much weaker: the Imperial Chancellor, currently on Terra, was truly unable to come in person, and could only use his power to send a part of his soul across half a star system, thereby enabling real-time communication and interaction with the Emperor.
Although it sounded strained, any psyker knew what incredible power and methods lay behind these simple and weak words.
The Emperor nodded, a welcome to his old friend: he had no time or inclination for pleasantries now. His will, along with his gaze, was wholly directed at the seemingly dilapidated and rotting corpse.
He remained silent for a moment, then allowed his psychic projection to slowly float towards the steel throne bearing the decaying corpse. A moment later, he paused before the rotting bones and flesh, maintaining a terrifying silence.
It was like the brief and false calm before a giant wave, capable of swallowing heaven and earth, swept over the shore.
The Lord of Mankind remained silent, waiting, his flawless noble face immersed in the shadows untouched by his radiant light, containing a terrifying power capable of making any arrogant army kneel.
Finally, he spoke.
"Heidrich."
"Heidrich-Mengel."
"My child."
"My failed child."
The voice rose from the Lord of Mankind's golden radiance, exploding in this void of ultimate darkness, lingering for a long time.
——————
Wriggling.
Twisting.
Breathing.
Everything embarked anew in a strange, mad fantasy, as if a monster sealed for ten thousand years had finally been unleashed by a group of arrogant evil cultists. Accompanied by the Lord of Mankind's low sigh, this once deathly silent darkness… came alive.
The corpse, which had died, decayed, and become absolute death in everyone's perception, the most shattered and rotten of all, in this unsettling wriggling and breathing.
It came alive.
The once frozen, deathly silent air flowed once more, bringing it vitality; the once dim, dark realm was bathed in light once more, bringing it enlightenment; the deity it thought it would never see again once more descended before it, bringing it the impetus to begin the final conversation.
Thus, this corpse, this body deliberately abandoned and left here, with only rotten flesh, withered bones, and a pungent stench remaining.
It came alive.
It wriggled, struggled, and with a chilling whisper, made its bones creak. Then, breaking all biological and physical boundaries, its hateful skull was raised high, looking at the radiant Lord of Mankind.
The skull, long stripped of skin, eyeballs, and eyebrows, was thus exposed to the brilliant air. It pulled at the slowly melting flesh, and amid the constantly dripping, foul-smelling blood, it revealed a smile formed by yellowed teeth and a moldy throat.
It smiled.
In this hateful smile, it asked softly, with deference.
"…"
"Father."
"…Is that you?"
——————
The Sigillite stood behind the Emperor, his aged eyes devoid of emotion, calmly observing the creation before him that would drive any Astartes mad.
But this placid exterior could not entirely conceal the turmoil within Malcador. Even Malcador, who had experienced the so-called Dark Age of Technology,
rarely witnessed such a sight, presented vividly before him: even the tech-madmen who had ravaged human civilization rarely descended to such depths, turning their own bodies into beds for abandonment and reckless experimentation.
This body was dead; there was no doubt about that. Yet, through some technology not involving the Immaterium, this rotting corpse could "come alive" in certain specific circumstances, even speak, to utter words for its master far across the galaxy.
Just thinking about it made the Sigillite's scalp crawl. Even this trusted friend of the Emperor, who had fully participated in the Primarch Project, could not comprehend how far the Eleventh Primarch,
the now-mad Mengel, who inherited most of the Lord of Mankind's biological talents and was specifically enhanced with wisdom and practical ability, could advance with his innate knowledge and arrogant determination.
What stood before them now was likely just a tiny fraction of the dark empire commanded by this insane bio-genius, a meager display presented to his sole object of worship: his gene-father, the Lord of Mankind.
Malcador was silent, lost in a long-unfelt fear and apprehension. Before the Sigillite, the Lord of Mankind slowly stepped forward, separating his closest friend from his now-mad offspring.
His gaze never left the grotesque body. He spoke, his voice as authoritative as ever.
"Mengel, my offspring…"
"Call me Heidrich, Father."
"I like that name."
"It's the name you personally gave me, your first gift and weapon."
"You carved it on the alloy frame of my growth pod, and it was that sliver of warmth I clung to through the darkest and most hopeless years of my life."
"Until I came to your side."
"Until I had the honor of kneeling at your feet, bathed in reason and wisdom."
Not even the most tender words could describe the tone the blond beast used when addressing his gene-father. He spoke like a grateful child mentioning the aged nun who adopted him,
like a naive scholar listening to the full lessons of his ancient mentor, like a devout worshipper kneeling at the feet of an idol, singing every hymn of praise as he witnessed the countless scars on his body heal in the light.
The most reverent words in this world slowly drifted from the most twisted flesh, giving a sense of genuine blasphemy. Not even the most suspicious sage would doubt the fervent loyalty of the voice's owner.
Heidrich raised its head, its hollow eye sockets staring at the Emperor, only to be met with the Lord of Mankind's cold words.
"No."
"From now on, I will no longer call you by that name, Number Eleven."
"You have shamed me."
The Emperor spoke, a command that could never be refuted, an unmoving glacier capable of freezing time and space, a divine judgment capable of making the most devout believer abandon their faith in rage.
The failed Primarch was clearly stunned, but it showed no dismay, nor did it express any laughable anger or dissatisfaction. It merely continued to gaze up at its gene-father, its reverence unwavering.
"Your will, Father."
"From now on, I am no longer Heidrich. I am your Number Eleven."
"I will wear it with pride."
The Lord of Mankind's face was colder than the harshest winter, like a sword poised to devour.
It smiled, its fleshless, featureless face capable only of forming the most terrifying grin with its skull's hollows and rotten teeth.
"Then, speak, Father."
"It's been too long since we had a real conversation. I've almost forgotten those nights when you and I discussed knowledge and experiments, those precious moments with only you, me, and endless wisdom."
"I miss them, Father."
"Speak, ask what you wish. I will conceal nothing, for I am Heidrich, I am your Number Eleven, and I will never lie to you."
"After all, I left this useless body here precisely to await your coming. Only your aura and your call could awaken the hidden device buried within this body, allowing me to hear your voice and admonishments once more."
At this moment, Malcador finally calmed the raging storm within him, raising his aged head to look at the corpse, or rather, the Eleventh Primarch.
The failed Primarch spared not a single glance for the Sigillite's gaze. It focused entirely on its gene-father, its head surrounded by the most putrid, low breaths.
The Lord of Mankind remained silent, perhaps for an instant, perhaps for an eternity.
——————
"Leman Russ told me everything he encountered, Number Eleven."
"The things you did on your homeworld alone are absolutely unforgivable acts of sin: in this Great Crusade, where everything was at stake, the Imperium has annihilated countless xenos and tyrants, all of them executioners whose hands were stained with human blood."
"But even so, compared to your actions, most of the xenos appear innocent."
"Tell me, Number Eleven."
"On your homeworld, you conducted an unimaginable number of human experiments, causing the populations of several Hive Cities to disappear without a trace in your 'wars of independence'?"
"Indeed, a small portion of them died due to war, Father."
"On your homeworld, you betrayed the human uprising forces who fought under your command, selling their whereabouts to the xenos warlords who ruled there, in exchange for a ticket to join those xenos' secret organizations?"
"After witnessing my strength, they gathered behind me. I never acknowledged leadership or responsibility over them. Moreover, isn't it common practice to hand over blood-stained swords to the doorkeepers before entering a council hall?"
"…"
"After you joined the ruling class of your homeworld, you swiftly instigated conflict within the xenos council, then seized the opportunity to slaughter all xenos factions, appropriating their blasphemous experimental equipment, and continuing their twisted vivisection experiments."
"Furthermore, you, as the world's savior, manipulated your people with drugs and speeches, turning them into your experimental subjects."
"Those xenos called themselves the Cult, Father. They were a group of wanderers who lost a struggle within that ridiculous organization. I quickly discovered that associating with them held no further value."
"And my experiments were not without results, Father. The individuals who survived the experiments became the best soldiers. They were powerful, obedient, and fearless, the only part of my legion that never disappointed me. They conquered and reclaimed thousands of worlds. For your cause, this was a completely advantageous exchange."
"…"
The Lord of Mankind's words were like a cold wind howling through glaciers, while the Eleventh Primarch's reply was like placid, dead water, devoid of panic or hesitation, without even a hint of concealment or plea.
Whatever the Emperor asked, he answered.
From his homeworld, to the countless stars.
Until this recently concluded war.
"You abandoned your legion, Number Eleven. You abandoned the front lines and the trust I placed in you, casting them into the coldest betrayal and the void."
"Before this, the Eleventh Legion was a formidable force, second only to the Dark Angels. Even the long war with Randan had not truly caused them losses. But you abandoned your legion,
you abandoned two-thirds of your offspring and followers. They honored your final command, holding out on worlds without strong defenses or sufficient supplies, awaiting the reinforcements you promised."
"But what awaited them was only the Randan army, with its overwhelming numerical superiority."
"They had no chance of victory or preparation. Over thirty thousand warriors fell in the first assault, and many more endured unimaginable attrition and torment in the following months: my intelligence departments received some final messages from those warriors you abandoned. These messages will never be made public."
"Six months after that storm swept the galaxy, even before the Dark Angels began their resistance in the Tacus System: some of those warriors you abandoned were still alive.
They were holed up in underground fortresses, using the bodies of their comrades as barricades, eliminating attacking foes with their chainswords, fists, and teeth, even gnawing on comrades' corpses and drinking their blood to survive. They continued to fight in despair and madness, awaiting your promise."
"They used their last forces and ammunition to seize a communication device and send a message to Terra: they cared about the state of the Imperium's war, they cared if their allies' front lines were hampered by them, they cared if my Number Eleven, you, their gene-father, had encountered any danger or misfortune."
"They cared about your safety, they believed your promise, they awaited you and your reinforcements, to save them!"
"But that was a lie, a lie you wove."
"During my journey to the Tacus System, my subordinates received one message from them, the last message. There will be no new ones."
"Nor will there be any so-called Eleventh Legion."
The Lord of Mankind was silent, filled with wrath. He opened his palm, allowing a segment of words he had clutched tightly to slowly dissipate into the air.
It was a dry, dying sound.
——————
"Terra, Terra."
"This is Lifland Squad."
"Resistance has failed, ammunition is depleted. All but me are sacrificed. Randan soldiers have advanced to the front of the trench."
"We failed to hold this place, we betrayed the expectations of the Emperor and Father, but we will betray no more: the last bullet is chambered, I have saved a bomb for myself."
"They will get nothing."
——————
The Sigillite lowered his eyes, bowing his head at all he had seen.
The Emperor's hand trembled: for the Lord of Mankind, this was a rare but incredibly clear signal. Malcador knew what kind of rage the Emperor was brewing.
"What do you have to say, Number Eleven?"
The Lord of Mankind's words were like a colossal dragon lurking in dark clouds, about to unleash a thunderclap.
And meeting that fury was the blond beast's rare silence. After a long while, the rotting body finally let out a sigh.
"I tried, Father."
"I tried my best, I pushed myself to the limit, constantly imitating my foolish blood relatives, constantly observing and pondering their actions, their useless emotions between themselves and their legionaries."
"I forced myself, Father, I forced myself to love them. I forced myself to do everything I could to love them."
"But I couldn't, Father."
"I couldn't."
"I exhausted all my efforts. I worked tirelessly to investigate, analyzing the strength of every squad in my legion, assigning everyone to the most suitable positions, allowing their talents to be best utilized, ensuring that experience and seniority would not hinder anyone capable."
"I exhausted all my efforts. I led them to the most difficult and legendary battlefields, fighting against powerful foes that even the Iron Warriors, Luna Wolves, and even the Dark Angels struggled against. I led them to victory over these terrible nightmares, earning unimaginable glory and honors."
"I exhausted all my efforts. I leveraged every connection I had, securing them the best equipment, the newest warships, the finest recruiting worlds… I ensured that everything in this legion was top-notch, that even the Dark Angels would not have more favorable conditions than my legion."
"Was what I gave not enough?"
"Was what I sacrificed not enough?"
"But… but why?!"
"Even if I personally selected every soldier and officer, even if I tirelessly formulated all plans, even if I racked my brains to procure everything for them…"
"They! Still! Disappointed me!"
"They! Still! Failed!"
A roar exploded in the hall, like a dying beast's final howl in the forest where it once reigned.
"They said they lacked excellent leaders and mid-level officers! Fine! I searched! I studied every tactic in history! I personally selected the best candidates and backups for every position in the legion!"
"They said they lacked proper command and tactics! Fine! I came! I personally commanded every battle! I accounted for everything that would happen every second in every location! Even if I were leading a pack of beasts that understood human speech, it would be a victory!"
"They said they lacked sufficient supplies and adequate resources! Fine! I provided! Besides my legion, which other legion possessed more than one Gloriana? I contacted dozens of Forge Worlds for resupply, supplementing everything my legion needed!"
"Yet despite all this! Despite everything!"
"They would still only disappoint me repeatedly, kneeling at my feet, begging for my forgiveness, because they had, once again, disappointed me."
"Yes, everyone seemed to praise me and my legion, because we conquered the most worlds, reclaimed the most territories for the Imperium. But I know, Father, that it's not worth boasting about."
"According to my plans, my calculations, and my estimations, we should have reclaimed even more worlds, achieved even more victories. I had calculated all of this!"
"They failed to do everything they should have. They only completed just over half of the objectives. They wasted your time, delaying your great work."
"They were disappointing."
"Time and again."
"With no end in sight."
The decaying corpse spewed out angry spittle, splattering yellow on the filthy floor. With this, the blond beast's lingering soul seemed to calm down. It returned to that terrifying decorum, and its voice instantly reverted to one of worship for the figure before it.
"Forgive me, Father."
Its voice was even a little hoarse.
"I shouldn't have been disrespectful in front of you."
The Emperor did not reply. Beneath his golden armor, his fingers slowly curled, turning white from the excessive force.
"They disappointed you."
"So, you abandoned them?"
"That's only one reason, Father."
Heidrich smiled.
"They certainly disappointed me: in these years of war with Randan, I never had a moment's true sleep or rest. For ten years of war, I was constantly in a state of high tension, my eyes and mind ceaselessly filled with battle reports, data, information, and countless possible futures from across half the galaxy, as if pouring barrels of ice water into a balloon."
"I persevered, I struggled, I came close to breaking down countless times, rushing out of my command post in a fit of rage and irrationality to unleash slaughter and strife on the front lines, to momentarily alleviate the endless data hell in my mind."
"Ten years."
"A full ten years."
"No sleep, no rest, not even a second of slack, constantly treading the edge of utter madness, for ten years!"
"There were countless moments when I even had a fantasy: I imagined you sending a brother to assist me, I imagined having a Sigillite of my own, who could temporarily handle everything, allowing me to rest for a while: even ten minutes."
"But I couldn't: I couldn't make such a plea to you, I couldn't have a brother like the Sigillite, and I couldn't even have half a moment of rest: all around me was only disappointment and incompetence."
"Every morning brought only more bad news, every messenger never reported better situations: to outsiders, my front lines seemed to be winning steadily, but the true situation, only I knew."
At this point, a hint of pleasure even appeared on the twisted body.
"You know it, Father, that so-called Randan Emperor, that most vile and low-grade imitator of you. I believe you've killed it, right?"
"You've always been like that, invincible."
"And before that, I was at war with it for ten long years, in the desolate darkness of the galaxy's northernmost regions. I waged a distant war against it, my only weapons being my legion and my warriors."
"It didn't always appear; in fact, only a few times. And the Randan armies it commanded, both in number and strength, were far inferior to the tide that my brother Lion El'Jonson had to face."
"But it was still a purgatory."
"During that time, I couldn't trust anything. Even the human worlds I had just conquered could rebel the next second. Even the Imperial Guard Auxiliaries following me could become Randan's lackeys in the next instant. Between me and Holy Terra, there seemed to be an invisible barrier it had laid. I didn't even dare to let my brothers reinforce me: I dared not gamble on what would happen if they came before me."
"Ten years, a full ten years."
"I could only trust my legion. I could only use my calculations and wisdom to contend with that Randan Emperor, fighting against an endless xenos army."
"I can proudly say that I did not lose that war. I did not fall behind in the struggle against that terrifying xenos. I was not deceived by its schemes."
"But my legion."
"My warriors!"
"My incompetent offspring!"
"They disappointed me, they disappointed me again and again. Even my most exquisite plans could not be executed perfectly due to their sluggishness and incompetence. Even though, in my estimation, all difficulties were within their capabilities, they simply could not do it."
"Time and again, I did not lose in wisdom, but in the incompetence of my offspring. They said that it seemed impossible to fight an empire with one legion."
"But in my plan! Everything was feasible! Feasible! And capable of success!"
"Yet there was only failure, endless failure."
"I could only sit here, writing command after command, watching them produce more incompetence and disappointment, watching the xenos army slowly devour my victory."
"There was no torture more horrible than this."
"So, at one point, I finally understood."
"I understood where I had lost."
At this, he laughed again.
The smile was enough to make Malcador's blood run cold. The blond beast articulated, word by word, amidst the storm of rage in the Emperor's eyes, his conclusion.
——————
"I understood where I had lost."
"I understood."
"All along."
"I was dragged down by them."
"Just like you, Father."
"I was dragged down by these so-called offspring of mine, and you, by these so-called humans."
"This is the root of my suffering."
——————
"Bang!"
The fierce sound was more terrifying than ten thousand cannons firing at once, shaking the vast hall that could hold ten thousand people to the brink of collapse in an instant.
The Lord of Mankind's wrath ignited at these arrogant words: only for a fleeting moment, less than an instant, yet enough to destroy anyone who dared to challenge his boundaries.
Even Malcador, the Sigillite of the Imperium, felt an instinctive terror deep within him, across the most distant of galaxies, under this furious outburst.
The Emperor was angry.
Truly, angry.
Even across countless worlds and nations, the Sigillite could still confirm this.
"Number Eleven."
"My failed Number Eleven."
"Do you know what you are saying?"
Facing the Emperor's wrath seemed to be the most terrifying transgression in the universe, but for a complete madman, it was nothing to fear.
Heidrich smiled, his laughter growing louder, crazier, more like that of a beast than a human.
"Of course."
"Of course…"
"Of course!"
"My Father!"
"My Emperor!"
"My Lord of all creation and Reason!"
"I know what I am saying! And I am absolutely certain of what I am saying!"
"Not at this moment, nor in this so-called Randan War."
"It was at the moment I met you!"
"At the moment your light first shone upon my humble self!"
"At the moment you took my hand and led me into the ocean of knowledge and reason!"
"I already knew!"
"At the moment I witnessed your so-called Human Imperium, which you took such pride in!"
"At the moment I saw the bureaucrats and governors kneeling at your feet, their actions! Their vile deeds! How their foolish, incurable rule and words defiled your wisdom!"
"At the moment I discovered! Those idiots actually wanted to equate you with those trash gods! At the moment I discovered! Your wisdom and power would only be slowly corroded and corrupted by these insects! At the moment I discovered… at the moment I discovered… at the moment I discovered…"
"At the moment I discovered… that you had been kidnapped by these so-called humans, the most lowly, most contemptible race in the universe, utterly devoid of any true excellence or brilliance, with their so-called loyalty, so-called faith, so-called devotion…"
"Kidnapped at that moment."
"My Emperor!"
"My Father!"
"Why do you cling to these creations! Why do you, for the sake of this trash, plunge into the maelstrom you despise most? Why must you…"
"Bear that tragic future?"
"Bear that…"
"Future named 'Dark King'?"
——————
Like a blade across a neck, bringing the most profound, chilling death, silence bloomed in that moment within the crumbling underground kingdom, blooming between the silent monarch, the laughing traitor, and the shocked subject.
"Dark King…"
Finally, Malcador murmured the blasphemous name, a name that, in theory, only he and the Emperor knew.
He looked at the Emperor, but saw something utterly incredible in his sovereign's face for a fleeting moment.
Pain.
The Emperor was in pain.
It was the Emperor's pain.
The poisonous needle of the curse transformed into real sharpness in that instant, piercing deeply into the Lord of Mankind's lips. The Emperor's face trembled uncharacteristically, his teeth and tongue clashing, unable to utter a complete sentence.
After a very long time, the Emperor slowly pieced together a sentence.
He spoke, seemingly intending to maintain his cold tone, but in a moment of hesitation and silence, he relented.
"Heidrich."
"Tell me."
"Who told you?!"
——————
"Hahaha…"
"Hahahahahaha!"
There was no reply, no silence. The extensively damaged and broken corpse, shattered by the Emperor's wrath, merely let out a laugh that would make even the Shinigami of the Underworld tremble in fear.
He laughed for a long time.
A very long time.
"You gave me wisdom, my great Primarch, my only faith."
"You know, wisdom allows me to understand many things, to see the true nature of the world: I know that both Magnus and Mortarion were wildly mistaken. Psychic power is not a safe force, but it is indeed a real force."
"So, I will observe psychic power, I will wield psychic power, even if each time is the most painful torment, even if I cannot personally use its power: but as long as it benefits you, I will do it."
"Therefore, I saw."
"I saw a glimpse of the future."
"I saw what would happen in this mad universe."
"This is not an illusion, nor a lie, because I personally experienced everything I saw: long ago, I already foresaw this conversation of ours, and those events ten thousand years from now."
"I saw your end, my gene-father. You will be trapped in the most terrible cage in the entire galaxy, facing your most hated destiny in pain and struggle: to become a god."
"Those humans, they will show you no gratitude or tenderness: they will only exploit your power to the fullest, squander your legacy, and in their greatest despair, push you into the abyss of godhood."
"They will debase your Imperium! Squander everything that belongs to you! How could a nation built by superhumans be better ruled by these mortals! They will only ruin everything!"
"You once told me to trust the wisdom of these so-called humans, because they had built a glorious era: but wasn't it also them who destroyed that glorious era?!"
"They can do nothing! They will only let your hard work slowly die! They will only stage the greatest tragedy in the galaxy! They will even make you the core of this tragedy."
"How can you become a god? How can you become the bearer of the most terrible and hopeless plague in the entire galaxy?"
"How! Dare! They! Do this to you! Make you suffer the curse of the Dark King!"
"How dare they!"
"What right do they have!"
"They should all die! All be exterminated! Not one left! They are not worthy to be your subjects! To enjoy the light of wisdom and reason in your eternal kingdom!"
The blond beast roared, roaring with all its might, its remaining flesh and blood splattering to the ground with its cries.
He roared for a long time, then suddenly fell into a strange laughter.
"Hehehehehehe…"
"But you don't need to worry, Father."
"You don't need to worry, because I am here."
"I saw another future, I saw a perfect species. The form of that species should be the standard for your subjects; only they are worthy of your realm."
"My gene-father…"
"Have you heard of…"
"The Tyranids?"
"They possess the most exquisite system. The culmination of that system, the so-called Great Devourer, is most fitting for your status and crown; it is what I pursue, the thing most worthy of you in the entire galaxy."
"I know, you are unaware of these things, because they are still very distant. It is possible they will never reach our galaxy until the end of time."
"But it doesn't matter."
"I will imitate the same species, I will make the most suitable subjects for you appear in this galaxy, I will wield the wisdom and power you bestowed upon me, to make your rule last until the end of time."
"After all…"
"My Emperor."
"Besides you, who else can command all things in the world?"
"Besides the supreme authority over all worlds and kingdoms, what else in this dark world is worthy of you?"
——————
"I will do it."
"In the galaxy's northernmost regions, in the shadows misunderstood by you and everyone else."
"I will accomplish all of this."
——————
"…"
"…"
"No!"
——————
The Emperor remained silent for a long time.
When he spoke again, his voice had regained its resolute coldness.
——————
"No!"
"Heidrich."
"My Number Eleven."
"You were wrong."
"And I was wrong."
"I once believed you would be my rational side, a fragment of my desire to traverse the world with wisdom and thought, my most successful rebellion against the gods."
"But now, I was wrong."
——————
"You are a curse."
"You are the gods' curse and mockery upon me."
"With just one step, they shattered my illusions, twisted my efforts."
"And mocked my perseverance."
——————
"You made a mistake, my son."
"There is no eternal truth in this world, nor any unbreakable kingship. The eternity you crave, the authority and rule you desire to surround me."
"These are the things I despise most."
"What you believe in, what you are fanatical about, what you have transgressed all boundaries and committed all evils for, was never loyalty to me."
"But your delusion, the most colossal illusion in the shadows of your heart, the most malicious hurricane stirred in a heart devoid of humanity by cold technology."
"You are not loyal to me."
"But to the profound shadow within your heart."
"To that bloody throne."
——————
"I will stop you. I will send my most elite blade to stop you."
"I will have the blades of my other offspring cut your neck, to make you vanish from this world: both you and your legion will disappear."
"This is my answer to you."
"This is my mercy to you."
——————
The blond beast seemed to fall silent.
He was silent for a moment, then laughed.
"Very well, Father."
"I will await you. I will await your blade to cut my neck."
"But before that, I will absolutely not stop. I will not cease until my will is completely extinguished."
"I will advance."
"Until I witness your eternal kingship."
"Or perhaps, your blade of judgment."
"You may choose any fate for me."
"My Emperor."
"My Father."
"My Sun."
"I will gladly endure it."
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