"I had to say, this Golden Throne was pretty damn comfortable. One look and you could tell it suited me—"
Ron sat on the throne, feeling rather at ease, and was even a little reluctant to get up.
After all, the Golden Throne had already lost its function of gathering Psyker Power. It was just an ordinary throne now.
No, it should be said that it was the Golden Throne that symbolized humanity's supreme authority, especially when the Primarchs and warriors were all half-kneeling and offering their reverence.
Sitting upon the Golden Throne himself, even if he was not the Master of Mankind, he was close enough.
"This feels amazing!
The Dark King had been dealt with, and there was no need to worry about the toilet exploding anymore. Humanity had a bright future ahead."
A little victory tune seemed to ring through Ron's dazed mind.
For all the Golden Throne was a massive trap, to the Imperium, it was more or less like the imperial jade seal.
Who wouldn't get dizzy after sitting on it? Even that fellow Horus had thrown himself into trying to sit on it too.
Yet now, it was he, The Savior, who had truly sat upon it.
For more than a hundred years, the Golden Throne had been on the verge of collapse, and he and humanity had faced a life-or-death crisis. He had not dared relax for even a moment, living in constant fear and caution.
Now, all of that had become the past. His people no longer needed to live in fear, and they could finally get a good night's sleep.
Not only that, but in this battle, he had also thoroughly cemented his authority and become the Master of Mankind in name and reality.
Even the Primarchs had accepted all of