Emperor's Dream,
Two giants sat facing each other at a huge dining table. Bright yellow candlelight lent the room a touch of warmth, shutting out the pack of dogs frolicking and stuffing themselves silly before the Adeptus Custodes outside.
Yet beneath that warm atmosphere lay an unsettling silence. Only the sound of food sliding down their throats reminded anyone that this was not a dead and silent tomb, but the first dinner between father and son.
When the last piece of food disappeared, Mordred had fully recovered after replenishing his nutrients. Looking at the Emperor, who still had not said a word, Mordred spoke:
"Let's have an open and honest talk. How about we start with why I became a Primarch? My dear biological father—Neos."
"Of course. You have the right to know this secret."
At the word "secret," Mordred's eyes widened. Desire compelled him to lean forward, and the Emperor's voice began to ring out.
"Outsider Wanderer. That is what we call beings of your structure. To our world, Outsider Wanderers are undoubtedly disasters.
"Whenever you appear, your utterly illogical, twisted forms contaminate the world like cancer cells. As they gnaw at the world's barriers, they leave behind a host of twisted, grotesque aberrations.
"Whether it is the Material Universe or the Warp, the moment either discovers you, it chooses to exterminate you. Those Four Useless Ones would do the same.
"After all, no one knows what kind of terrifying monster an Outsider Wanderer might eventually become if left unchecked. But..."
"But what?" Driven by his thirst for the secret, Mordred leaned forward again.
"But I am different from those useless fools. Rules exist to be broken. Why should humanity be toyed with like a chess piece? I must make humanity great again, and your appearance has given me unstoppable momentum on the scales of victory."
As though everything before had been an illusion, the Emperor took off his sunglasses and instantly transformed from a man with a frozen face into an art student who loved giving speeches. He grabbed Mordred by the wrist and began expounding on his grand ideals.
There was no doubt that the Emperor's speech could make any human dedicate themselves to his cause. But to Mordred, it was merely noise. His head buzzed, and even the Golden Giant before his eyes began to blur, as if turning into a dark-skinned woman with a long, fluffy tail swishing behind her.
Then he saw a pair of eyes radiating an eerie light.
"Eyes, a tail? No, you bastard, you actually tried to bewitch me! Damn Yellow Skins, I'll blast you apart!"
The moment he regained consciousness, Mordred grabbed the dining table and hurled it over. Before the Adeptus Custodes could break through the door, he pounced on the Emperor. Forgetting all about probing and suspicion, he seized the Emperor by the hair and began pummeling that great face with abandon.
In just a few breaths, Mordred threw a hundred punches, and he fought especially dirty, aiming almost exclusively for the eyes.
Rage as tangible as flame scorched the deck, staining everything around them crimson. Vaguely, several slick vines could even be seen writhing beside the enraged golden-haired giant.
Yet how could the Master of Mankind be an ordinary man? He had started explaining his grand ideals, and this rebellious son had not only failed to bow his head in worship, but had dared to hit him. This was beyond ordinary rebellion. It called for a Strike Hard.
Golden Psychic Power blazed across the world. One slap sent Mordred sprawling, but immediately afterward, an elbow smashed into the Emperor's nose and forcefully drew two streams of blood.
Looking at the rebellious son locked around him like an octopus, tearing at his hair like a wild dog, the Emperor finally lost his composure and shouted:
"I'm your father!"
"Bah! Bullshit! My father died long ago. You only treated me like a tool. What kind of father does that? If you've got the guts, don't use Psychic Power."
The Emperor fell silent. Although he had indeed created the Primarchs to serve the Great Crusade, that did not mean he did not love his children. Yet rather than explain himself, the Golden Giant's first thought was to speak with his fists, just as he had when recovering Ferrus.
Pure violence began to run rampant. After a brief exchange of blows, both giants were thoroughly worked up. The Emperor was both savage and swift, while Mordred was swift and savage. The two wrestled and tore at each other on the floor like street thugs, turning the once-warm dining room into ruins.
The sight left the Adeptus Custodes who came to protect the Emperor frozen for a moment. But several barks sounded from behind them. Seeing the situation heading toward an irreversible outcome, a furious shout came from outside the door:
"Stand down! What do you think you're doing? By the authority of the Lord of the Imperium, I order you to get back at once!"
"Withdraw! Boss, I'm perfectly safe!"
Receiving the order at the same time, Corn and the dogs withdrew. A gaunt old man came to the doorway, exchanged a glance with the Emperor, and directly shut the door.
Looking at the Emperor beside him, whose face was swollen and bruised and whose eye he had elbowed into a black ring, Mordred mumbled through his remaining half a mouthful of teeth:
"Let go of me. You nearly snapped my spine. I'm your son!"
"Weren't you refusing to acknowledge me as your father?" The Emperor released the arm pinning the rebellious son and immediately retorted.
"I changed my mind. Is that not allowed? Come over here and help me up."
"Your moral standards are remarkably flexible."
"That runs in the family, doesn't it, Old Man Huang?"
With a series of deeply unpleasant cracking sounds, the Emperor used Psychic Power to reconnect Mordred's spine. He also used molecular reorganization to instantly restore his own horrific-looking injuries.
Mordred could neither run nor win a fight, while his opponent could both fight and heal. He was truly helpless now. He could only slump in his seat like a lump of mud and give up. Then he saw the Emperor's hesitant, fidgeting expression.
To be honest, seeing a five-meter-tall giant of a Psychic Power-inflated man, with arms thick enough for horses to run on, make such an expression was impossible to look at directly.
"Seriously, big guy, what exactly are you trying to do? I've already admitted you're my father. What more do you want?"
"No. You have not acknowledged my existence. Instead, you think I am a hopeless madman. In your eyes, I may be no different from those Four Useless Ones. The disdain on your face has never vanished.
"To you, everything around here seems unrelated to you. You even scorn everyone equally. The only beings you might care about are those Giant Dogs. You..."
The Emperor paused for a moment. Instead of continuing his accusations, he abandoned his earlier arrogance and sat beside Mordred.
A drink was placed on the table. Mordred did not refuse it, picking it up and drinking immediately. When the bubbles burst across his mouth, Mordred fell silent.
"Coke?"
"That's right. It even has the flavor from the 3K era—the taste you remember. Actually, I did not read much of your memories.
"Just as I said, your memories are poisonous. That small amount of contamination alone took a great deal of effort to purify. It even resulted in half of the Alps being burned away. But I believe it was worth it, because it was a necessary sacri—"
The Emperor stopped again.
Another drink was placed on the table. Mordred downed it in one gulp, but this time it was a pulpy orange drink. Its fresh, delicious flavor filled the giant who had been away from it for twelve years with an indescribable loneliness.
"So why didn't you erase me back then? Maybe I could have gone home after I died."
"Perhaps. But as far as I know, you are merely a higher-dimensional remnant. Going from high to low is simple, but returning is basically impossible."
The Emperor continued, "When your remains streaked across the stars, passed through the Warp, and fell into Terra, you were already close to death. To prevent contamination, I prepared to end your life with my own hands.
"But do you know what I discovered the moment I touched you?"
"A kindred who could understand me. A partner who could help me make humanity great again."
Since they had met, Mordred had never seen such a sincere smile on the Emperor's face. He could also clearly sense that it was not some damn bewitching ability.
"Mordred, my child. From the day you were born, the entire Himalayas echoed with your name. In the end, you will acknowledge my ideals and lead humanity toward glory."
After saying this, the Emperor fell silent and gazed at Mordred expectantly.
At first, Mordred remained indifferent. But he soon found himself unable to withstand it. What were you doing before? Can't you talk like this? Why did you act like an idiot just now?
"Then say something nice. Beg me."
"What? You want me to beg you? I..."
The Emperor's fists tightened again. The corners of his mouth twitched repeatedly, as if he were arguing with an imaginary person. But soon he sighed and said reluctantly:
"Help me. Child, I need you!"
"Ugh, you're really impossible."
Upon hearing that reply, Malcador, who had been serving as an external brain outside the door, decisively severed his Psychic Power link. This really isn't work fit for a human being, he thought, muttering:
"The burden of this Imperium seems to still rest on my shoulders!"
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