[past]
Malcador is still alive.
Malcador, still alive, is not normal.
This is the conclusion that Mortarion came to after spending thousands of years.
This story should have been simple. The broken and hazy Pale Lord stood before the Lord of Macragge. They were silent for a long time.
A story of a primarch bringing the empire to its knees, a story of a demigod worn away by time and faith, a story of a giant gradually decaying... until they find the true antidote.
It should be like this.
It should be so.
But there is another force involved in this story, a being that is patient enough and chaotic enough. He is very familiar with the bloated and complicated system of the empire and has enough patience to arrange it all.
What does he want
Guilliman said calmly and solemnly, his white hair hanging down from the side of his forehead, looking disheveled.
Mortarion shook his head. He didn't know the answer to this question. Perhaps it was just pure malice, pure confusion. Perhaps only the Lord of Mankind knew the answer to this question.
He emerged from the altar aboard Macragge's Glory, a white mist rising, and Mortarion walked towards Guilliman who had summoned him.
[I can't stay for long - but we won't be noticed by anything, I've calculated.]
Mortarion said glumly that the battle with Sanguinius had worn him down.
Guilliman sighed as he sat on the chair, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
[Thank you, my brother... I should have... I should have listened to you at that time.]
[It’s not too late now.]
Mortarion's words calmly choked Guilliman, who paused and changed the subject wearily.
[I have checked the records. Whether you believe it or not, Mortarion, I am sure that this is the work of the former Sigillite. I can confirm that there are at least five million records with his style.]
He has already eliminated five groups of people suspected of being infiltrated by Malcador, but... if he continues to eliminate them, the empire will not be able to function normally.
[He has been infiltrating the Empire's bureaucracy... But I—]
Bang!
Guilliman slammed the handrail, looking angry and sad.
[But I didn’t see it.]
This is your fault.
Mortarion said calmly, the mist gathered, preparing for Guilliman's "death",
Malcador's cunning is as great as any Primarch, and even greater than some of us - but I am certain that if you remain as you are, Guilliman, you will never be able to defeat him.
[…]
Guilliman slowly raised his head. He looked at Mortarion wearily, but his blue eyes were burning with rage.
[… Why do you say that? ]
Guilliman said calmly, but Mortarion felt that Guilliman was like a volcano about to erupt.
No matter, Guilliman couldn't beat him.
[Because he used psychic powers.]
Mortarion said, ash trickling from his bony fingertips, and he placed the ash around Guilliman, forty-nine points,
"Malcador uses sorcery in his political administration," Mortarion said glumly. "Perhaps he began to do so when he was with the Emperor."
This sentence made Robert Guilliman completely wilted. The Primarch became even more tired, with a hint of death in his eyes - this might be a side effect of Mortarion's ability.
[Do I want my think tanks to stand in front of my office and check every piece of paper to see if it is contaminated? ]
Mortarion lowered his eyes to check if the altar he had painted was complete.
[You need to do it yourself.]
The Pale Lord said softly, [You need to do it yourself, Roboute Guilliman.]
[… I don’t understand.]
"Accept your nature," Mortarion said, "accept that this world, at least a part of it, operates illogically, madly, sensually, and in disorder."
Guilliman slowly stood up and looked at Mortarion.
[With all due respect,] Guilliman said, [Mortarion…?]
[…]
Guilliman was silent, and for a moment he was sure he had heard Magnus say something similar before, and it was a chilling feeling.
[… fine.]
Guilliman said, "But me?" He raised his hand and looked at himself uncertainly. The Imperial Regent laughed at himself, "I may not have your talent."
Mortarion shook his head, then nodded.
[Robert Guilliman,] Mortarion said, [I once vowed to kill every sorcerer.]
…
Guilliman spoke slowly, slowly, "My brother, this is not a funny joke."
"This is reality," Mortarion said calmly, ignoring the sadness in Guilliman's eyes as he looked at him. "It's your turn to tell a joke."
The Lord of Death took a step back, and white mist suddenly rose up.
Guilliman's vision blurred in an instant, and his exhausted soul finally felt sleepy. He heard whispers and warnings from afar.
[I look forward to your return...]
… …
The mist rolled, and Mortarion could no longer hold on, and his figure disappeared.
He was right. Only the awakened Robert Guilliman could compete politically with the new demigod.
Machado…
… Is that being still really Malcador
——————
"You are simply amplifying your negative emotions in the warp, my dear friend."
Neos said, he looked at Malcador calmly, looking confident, but it was just that, he couldn't even stand up.
Malcador also looked at Neos calmly.
"So what's your plan, Neos?"
"I have given them chances for thousands and tens of thousands of years. The empire we created has been decaying. I see no hope for this race."
"The galaxy is decaying," Malcador said. "It's not Mankind's fault. The Old Ones, the Necrontyr, the Eldar, the Greenskins... Mankind... All races are in decline. You cannot build an empire on a collapsing desert."
“We can rebuild our glory.”
As the first rays of morning light flickered on the laurel wreath of the Lord of Mankind, he "saw" the irreparable destruction of the Ministry of the Interior... the largest bureaucracy in the Empire had been burned to the ground, and Malcador was threatening him with this... the administrative system of a vast Empire.
Beyond Terra, the Emperor's eyes and ears have probably infiltrated the management systems of countless hub planets.
Neos was silent... Only Malcador would choose this approach... so complicated, so hidden in the shadows, those other aspects that were not paid attention to... He never started with the war directly.
In other words, war was never Malcador's first choice.
He knew what Malcador was trying to do... He knew it from the beginning when the First Legion fell apart... But he knew... This was a normal part of being a so-called [Demi-God].
He satisfied Machado's selfish desires. Apart from his ideals and hopes, he had indeed not paid Machado's salary for a long time.
But Malcador did not escape the corruption of the Warp.
... Only Mortarion...
The golden sun burns silently.
He knew what Malcador wanted...
The emperor who swallowed up part of the authority of the God of Desire, as well as the authority of the other three gods, including part of the emperor's authority, and currently temporarily occupies the position of [Five] -
He wanted to ascend to God.
This is an instinct, a kind of subconsciousness, and no existence that has been tainted by the subspace is immune.
But Malcador, a being polluted by it, still retains his own consciousness and goals... The Sigillite still holds the hope of saving the human race... The two emotions and desires mixed together... and forged the current [Emperor].
Every step that Makado takes is based on the starting point of "goodness", mixed with "desire" and "malice".
The Emperor knew what Malcador wanted.
Whether it is [Ascend to God], or not just [Ascend to God]...
He hopes to [restart].
The chaos of the subspace also follows the laws of the subspace, first [Nine], then [Eight], [Seven], [Six], [Five]...
This is the countdown to total chaos and total degradation.
The outbreak of the War in Heaven started this countdown, nine, eight, seven… The Fall of the Eldar accelerated its progress, six; the Heresy forced him to release Malcador, five.
As the countdown continues in the Supreme Heaven, all things in the physical universe also decline together. With every false god added, the spirits of all things become more chaotic.
As the newest existence, the Emperor hopes to put an end to all this.
His crazy plan.
[The Emperor] hopes to climb back to the starting point step by step.
Five, six, seven, eight, nine…
Reverse the countdown, finally [restart] the two worlds, and rebuild the human race.
Liberate humanity from the “root”.
And what He wishes to do... is to devour, starting from the fifth, devouring the Heaven of Lust, then the Heaven of Corruption... Neos looked at Malcador's right arm without leaving a trace, and finally the Heaven of Usurpation.
He ascended to the final throne of God step by step, and then restarted the entire universe.
… it's out of the question.
Because no being knows what will happen when the count reaches nine.
It could be a restart, or it could be complete destruction...it could even be complete chaos and disorder.
At the same time... no being can withstand the power of multiple gods, which will cause him to fall into complete madness and disorder.
More power is never better.
This is just a chant carried away by the desires of the warp.
Malcador, blinded by the Warp, could no longer see this, and Neos' eyes were filled with sorrow, as he believed he was trying to save humanity, but at the same time he was being driven by his desires... to the abyss.
“Humanity can no longer return to the technological level it once was,” Machado said. “… That’s a fact.”
"Iron Man is destined to be a dead end. Humanity has been walking on a dead end for too long. But now we no longer have the capital to make mistakes. The human race is dead."
Even if the current Lord of Humanity stood up again and commanded the empire once again, could this race prosper again
They had done something similar ten thousand years ago.
The Lord of Mankind developed the Primarchs, Thunder Warriors, Space Marines... but it was still a drop in the bucket. The technology that truly liberated productivity had not appeared, and human thought was still ignorant in the Middle Ages. The most efficient way was still archaeology.
However, most of the technologies discovered through archaeological excavations had to be castrated or abandoned due to the Iron Man Rebellion and the corruption of the Warp.
Humans today are no longer the same as they were back then. After a long dark night, countless technology lunatics have extended their scalpels to the human genome—humans today are even more “sub-space-like,” more ignorant, and more radical…
The human race is dead.
“You’re too pessimistic.”
Neos said, looking calmly at Malcador,
"Even so, humans are still the overlords of this galaxy, and time will bear witness to our success."
Malcador smiled sarcastically.
"The Necrontyr is about to awaken, and the Tyranids are about to arrive in the galaxy... Do you really think that humans can fight against them now?"
"He is back," Neos said, "and the Primarchs will return to the Empire. It may be difficult, but the human race will prosper forever."
Malcador smiled bitterly and took another sip of his tea.
"In the end, we still have to rely on those few beings from ten thousand years ago. You should admit that there are no more heroes among humans."
"For ten thousand years," Neos said, "the Empire has never lacked heroes - but you seem to have taken most of them away?"
"It's not that I took them away. I just took in the desperate heroes."
Machado said, the bracelet on his wrist was shining, and each gemstone was shining with the light of a noble soul.
"The empire we have built," Malcador said, "has no room for even a few heroes who have aged. You know how many have been driven into despair by their own kind—"
Malcador spread his hands and said, "I want to make it clear that I am not targeting them. This is a natural occurrence."
"I believe you," Neos said, looking into Malcador's eyes, but seeing only a disillusioned, fleeting light.
"With such a vast territory, we should always admit that things cannot be perfect. I am not omnipotent."
“But these things happen too often,” Malcador said. “This is not accidental, this is inevitable… Neos, you know this, do not shelter this race hiding under your wings. They may still look bright, but they are just borrowing your light.”
"No," Neos shook his head, "My power comes from them, and my light is a gift from them."
Malcador stared at Neos and spoke slowly,
"But if humanity perishes, you will not die, Lord of Mankind."
"You can only ascend to godhood, Neos."
Neos laughed and shook his head.
"There is no necessary connection between the two, Malcador. If I perish, humanity will not perish."
"No," said Malcador. "Humanity will perish. They will destroy themselves, consume themselves, and destroy themselves - and it will take you, or the Primarch, to step up at every turn. Stop playing this futile and useless game, Neos. We have a chance to end this process directly."
"There is no permanent solution here," Neos closed his eyes, "There is no perfect solution, no clean ending... at least not for you and me."
Malcador laughed.
"So it is feasible to introduce the [Dead]."
"He will not choose you," Neos said. "He will not approve of you, Malcador. Your plan will fail. You are simply deceived."
Malcador had a meaningful smile on his face.
"Why should I tell it my plan, Neos?"
"You are the only one who knows my plan. Perhaps the dull Guilliman has also noticed something - but I think... you will not tell him this."
Neos looked at Malcador calmly.
"You are threatening me."
"I'm threatening you."
The Emperor said, and he began to laugh, "Why else would I light this fire?"
If the Emperor disagrees, then even if Hades comes, the administration of the Empire will be completely paralyzed under the Emperor's forced interference.
But at this stage... if Malcador wishes to realize His plans, then the Imperium must maintain the status quo.
But the absolute prerequisite for the implementation of Malcador's plan is that he gains the trust of Pluto.
Hades cannot be deceived by the Warp, and ordinary methods never work on him.
Neos was silent. He looked at Malcador.
The trust of the past betrayed him,
This is not the first time.
At least this time... The Emperor "looks" towards the Nirvana system approaching Terra.
He had some way of salvaging it all.
"… At least we are fellow travelers for now, Malcador."
Neos said, "Neither you nor I want to see the empire fall now."
"But I will not utter a word of testimony for a lie."
"I will gain its trust."
Machado said, “It’s coming.”
(End of this chapter)