The Emperor's eyes were filled with worry, a worry that even surpassed his concern over the arrival of the Great Devourer.
He knew all too well what kind of terrifying catastrophe humanity would face if anything went wrong with this Savior—this successor.
For instance, the birth of the Dark King, even more dreadful than Slaanesh's birth, was said to bring about an extreme disaster capable of destroying the entire Imperium.
Even then, humanity would still have a sliver of hope. Like the Eldar, they could become a refugee race and flee the Galaxy with the remaining embers of mankind.
But the Savior—or rather, the Primordial Destroyer that was about to be born—was different. If something went wrong with him, it would bring an apocalyptic catastrophe sweeping through both the Galaxy and the Warp, far beyond anything the Chaos Gods could create.
By then, humanity would not even have the chance to abandon its home and flee the Galaxy. Not only humanity, but all other lifeforms and even Daemons would suffer the same fate. No one could escape the Primordial Destroyer's devouring.
Even more terrifyingly, humanity had already become deeply bound to the Savior. No one in the Galaxy or the Warp could stop this—not even him, the Emperor.
That was why the Emperor was so worried.
"No one in the Galaxy is more dangerous or more important than you now."
The Emperor said, "We must ensure your safety and stability. We must also know exactly what you will become."
Beneath his worried gaze lay a trace of helpless exhaustion and fear.
It was fear of a power on a far grander scale. Even he, the former Master of Mankind, could do nothing about it.
He could only ask questions and provide whatever assistance he could. He had no way to