Chapter Fifty-Three: The Emperor

Jose wiped the blood from his face with his hand, hoping to see the Emperor’s Angel more clearly. But when Jose finally took in the angel’s appearance, he was left utterly dumbfounded. The Astartes was kneeling on the ground, and beneath his knee was the corpse of a cultist, reduced to nothing but a heap of mangled flesh.

Chen Wei had intended to make a dashing, heroic landing, to leave a magnificent impression of the Emperor’s Angel upon the mortal he had just saved. But as he touched down, his knees buckled, and he found himself kneeling awkwardly on the ground.

“Ahem, mortal brother, you didn’t see anything,” Chen Wei said, embarrassed, scrambling up and addressing the stunned mortal behind him.

He raised his bolter toward the frenzied cultists, activating the auto-targeting system within his helmet. Bolt rounds erupted from the weapon, striking down the surrounding cultists with ruthless precision.

The other travelers landed as well, their descents far more graceful than Chen Wei’s. Together, they quickly eradicated all the cultists who had surged up from the lower hive.

The travelers gathered the wounded Imperial civilians and treated them with automated surgical drones.

Chen Wei’s mission was to transport emergency food supplies to various hive cities across Terra. Yet this was only the first hive, and already he had encountered Khorne worshippers stirring up trouble—a sign of just how dire Terra’s situation had become.

After distributing the food, Chen Wei contacted Wang Ming to report on the cultist activity in the hive.

“Boss, things are looking bad on Terra right now. Khorne’s followers are brazen enough to attack the middle hive out in the open,” Chen Wei explained.

“That’s to be expected. The Great Rift has opened, and the four entities of the Warp have gained strength in the material universe. It’s no surprise they’re making bold moves so soon,” Wang Ming replied.

“So what should we do? Should we have the brothers start clearing out cultists?” Chen Wei asked.

“Those cultists are difficult to root out. Tell the brothers to be cautious during food deliveries, look for cultist hideouts, and clear them out gradually,” Wang Ming instructed.

Purging Chaos cults was a troublesome task. They hid among the endless masses of Imperial citizens in the lower hives, and unless one had already mutated from Chaos worship, they were almost impossible to identify.

Wang Ming intended to wait until the Second Terra War was over, then lead the travelers and Inquisitorial agents to purge the cultists from all the hive cities on Terra.

Wang Ming and the five thousand travelers had arrived at the awe-inspiring Imperial Palace, its grandeur leaving them speechless. The towering architecture of the palace district and the sacred, solemn Lion’s Gate filled the travelers with overwhelming awe.

No description from any Warhammer 40K novel or game could compare to witnessing the Imperial Palace with one’s own eyes. The travelers eagerly took out their personal data slates, frantically checking in at every famous landmark of Terra.

Yet the blood-red clouds swirling above the Lion’s Gate served as a grim reminder that a terrifying enemy would soon descend upon them.

Led by a member of the Custodes, Wang Ming entered the palace’s inner sanctum to meet the Holy Emperor, Master of Mankind. The other travelers waited outside the Lion’s Gate, unable to accompany him further.

Walking through the vast halls, Wang Ming felt like a wide-eyed child, marveling at everything around him—each detail in the palace was a wondrous novelty.

As he followed the Custodian down a corridor adorned with magnificent reliefs, Wang Ming stumbled upon a scene that was oddly familiar to him.

At a corner ahead, three Custodians stood entirely naked save for their helmets, their bodies coated in some kind of oily substance. They struck a series of bizarre poses, their muscles gleaming under the lights thanks to the sheen of the oil.

“What’s going on with them?” Wang Ming asked, pointing toward the three posing Custodians.

“It’s a little hobby of theirs,” the Custodian escorting him replied, glancing at the trio.

“Oh,” Wang Ming nodded and quickly snapped a few pictures of them with his data slate. “This will be a classic scene to show the brothers later,” he thought, tucking his slate away and looking forward to sharing this moment with his comrades.

Guided by the Custodian, Wang Ming finally reached the Golden Throne. The Custodian left him there and withdrew.

Gazing upon the Emperor, now little more than a withered corpse upon the Golden Throne, Wang Ming was overcome with a profound sadness, as if he were witnessing a father on the edge of death.

“At last, you have come,” a commanding voice echoed within Wang Ming’s mind.

“Emperor?” Wang Ming replied within his thoughts.

“It is I. But I prefer you to call me Niels,” the Emperor responded in Wang Ming’s mind.

The Emperor liked Wang Ming to use the name Niels—perhaps, in some small way, it was the last vestige of his humanity.

“Fine, Niels. What do you need from me?” Wang Ming asked directly, knowing the Emperor would not summon him without reason.

“I need you to take your legion and resolve a certain matter,” the Emperor declared. As soon as he finished speaking, a Custodian entered the chamber.

The Custodian approached Wang Ming and handed him a star chart. Wang Ming unrolled it and saw a line drawn from a tiny dot labeled Terra, stretching all the way to a planet at the edge of a sector marked Damocles Gulf.

“What is this?” Wang Ming inquired, puzzled.

“A mission. There is something on that planet I need you to retrieve, beyond the Great Rift,” the Emperor replied.

“What exactly?” Wang Ming asked, eyeing the marked planet with curiosity.

“Some belongings of an old friend,” the Emperor said.

“An old friend?” Wang Ming was filled with confusion. The Emperor’s old friend? Who could that be?

The Emperor sensed Wang Ming’s doubt but said nothing more.

“Oh, right—Niels, I have a question for you,” Wang Ming suddenly remembered something important.

“What is it?” the Emperor responded.

“As a Primarch, do I possess a warp essence?”

Wang Ming asked, for every Primarch had a warp-based essence, but he did not know if, as a Primarch created by this system, he possessed it himself.

“You do, but you must find it for yourself,” the Emperor answered.

“How do I find it?” Wang Ming pressed.

“Time is up. The situation outside requires your attention now,” the Emperor said, offering no further answer, only reminding Wang Ming that he was needed elsewhere.