"Nothing."
"Only that I was leaving reality and returning to them."
The Emperor answered with utmost calm, as if he were discussing something as trivial as a sesame seed.
Qin Mo suddenly turned to look at the Emperor and shook his head. "You can clearly act independently in reality, yet you want to return to that Cold Sun and become one of that pile of madmen called the Emperor?"
"I have to go back," the Emperor insisted. "It is not because I have been threatened or because I have little time left. It is because I believe I should return. I can quell the madness and distortion of the other wills. Perhaps I can unite the other versions of myself. Perhaps I can even offer you some help in your future battles."
Qin Mo fell silent.
It was not as though Qin Mo had never considered what the Emperor's future ought to be.
The Golden Throne would be repaired, and the Emperor absolutely could not step down from it.
If the Emperor wanted to leave and no longer endure the torment, he could abandon the Throne at any time. But the consequences of him leaving it would be unimaginable.
The damaged Webway was no longer a problem. Once the Veil around the Solar System was reinforced as well, daemons would be unable to enter at all.
The problem was that, after enduring ten thousand years of faith, if the Emperor left the device known as the Golden Throne, he would very likely ascend to godhood and tear apart the painstakingly patched-up Real Universe once more.
But Qin Mo did not believe that the fate of a man who had given everything for humanity should be to remain trapped upon the Throne forever.
When facing Tzeentch just now, he had not