Scattered Galaxy

Emperor shifted, stepping in front of the two to face the Warp storm head-on. Golden divine light erupted from his eyes as he confronted the Four Chaos Gods, using the blood-bound connection to scour the Warp for the Primarchs.

"Erda?! Are you alright?" Malcador lost his composure, hurrying to Erda's side. He knelt slowly to meet her gaze, his voice still gentle, yet sounding utterly foreign.

The gaunt features of Malcador were no longer calm; the gloom in his eyes had nearly solidified, and the depths of his gaze were filled with regret.

"I gave my children freedom; they were not meant to be war machines." Erda's gaze was vacant, her eyes reflecting Malcador's aged face as she asked him listlessly, "Sigillite Malcador, will you hold a mother responsible for this?"

Only now did the triumphant, mocking laughter of the gods fade into the distance, yet Erda felt no regret for what she had done.

"You are the mother of those children—not just their mother, but the Emperor's closest confidante and the Administrator of the nascent Imperium of Man."

Malcador shook his head helplessly, his heart brimming with pain and bitterness. How could he put it into words?

Erda had cast the Emperor's and his own visions of the future, their meticulously planned blueprints, and the vital pieces of their grand undertaking into the Warp.

His eyes remained fixed on the Warp rift; how much could be salvaged now depended entirely on the man standing before them and the extent to which he could contend with the gods.

Emperor searched the Warp for the Primarchs, his will plunging into the depths of the Empyrean to engage the Four Chaos Gods in a battle on a different plane.

Wrinkles deepened across Malcador's face, his aged features etched with remorse. He tilted his head back in agony, squeezing his stinging eyes shut to hide his vulnerability from Erda.

"Erda, you have committed an irreparable mistake!" For once, Malcador's perpetually composed voice trembled with grief and indignation as he rebuked her:

"As the Emperor's closest confidante, you have betrayed him! You have torn apart the path he charted, all for the sake of a selfishness you call 'maternal love.'

I do not know what the Warp showed you, but as a mother, to send children as pure as blank slates into a galaxy teeming with filth—is this something a 'mother' would do?"

Malcador shook his head in despair. It was too late; with his wisdom, it was easy to deduce that Erda had been beguiled by the Warp into committing an act of supreme folly.

"Finally..."

All accusations felt pale and powerless after the fact. The old man, who had exhausted himself for the sake of the Imperium of Man, looked at Erda's bloodless, pale cheeks and sighed in utter helplessness:

"The Primarchs, one of the most vital assets of the Imperium of Man. Because of the lies of the gods, they are scattered across the cosmos, completely beyond the Emperor's control and exposed to the greed of dark powers."

"They are destined to return, but the form they take upon their return will no longer be what the Emperor envisioned. As for how the gods will deceive and mold them, does a mother like you have any solution for that?"

The accusations and questions ringing in her ears, the visceral reality of it all, pierced Erda's soul. She bowed her head, her body trembling violently.

"Assets?" Erda did not answer, but upon hearing the final word, she snapped her head up, her lips quivering as she challenged Malcador: "You compare them to assets?"

"Yes!" Malcador replied, his face expressionless as he spat out the cold word, then continued: "Within the Imperium of Man, you are an asset, I am an asset—everyone is!"

He raised a gaunt hand from his wide sleeve and pointed at the Emperor, who stood before them, holding back the Warp: "He is, too!"

His aged, low voice was not a description, but a statement of iron-clad fact.

He is, too!

The three words were absolute, exploding in Erda's ears. Her clouded consciousness jolted, and a chill spread from her spine, as if she had fallen into an icy abyss.

Only in this moment did Erda finally realize that her former confidant had completely changed for the sake of humanity's resurgence.

The two men before her were willing to trade with the Warp, willing to exhaust every means and abandon everything from the past, all for one goal: the revival of humanity!

In this process, everything was calculated. Every person or object was merely a simple gear on the war machine known as the "Imperium."

"I am not the asset you speak of, and neither are my children."

After seeing everything clearly, Erda's pale face turned cold as frost. She rose slowly and said to Malcador: "You may judge me now, Malcador!"

"Judge?" Malcador's eyes reflected Erda's stubborn figure, filled with profound confusion.

Even now, Erda still did not realize what she had done.

In the grand scheme of their great undertaking, her pity and affection for a single person or event were so minuscule when weighed against the collective of humanity.

Yet, it was precisely this minuscule emotion that gave the gods their opening.

Emperor possessed more love than Erda, but his love did not linger on the surface; it was a silent, protective watch.

Emperor loved all of humanity, not any single individual within it.

He could abandon any life to sacrifice for the protection of the human collective. There was no upper limit to the sacrifice—he could even sacrifice himself when necessary.

By using small love to destroy great love, in terms of winning and losing, the gods had won beautifully.

"You are inside the chessboard; do you still not understand?" Malcador let out a long breath, meeting Erda's beautiful eyes:

"You will be judged, but not by me. The gods will dispose of a pawn that has lost its value."

"My dear Erda," Malcador looked at her with the pity of an elder: "You will experience for yourself how absurd the dark gods' pranks are, and the consequences your choices have wrought."

Feeling the sincerity in his words, Erda dared not look into his eyes, which were filled with concern. She slowly turned her face away, saying nothing.

"Go." Malcador stepped aside, clearing a path for her to leave, and offered a sincere blessing: "I hope you can escape fate and live well."

"After all, there are fewer and fewer of us—the immortal friends who have known each other for so long."

Hearing this, Erda hesitated for a moment, her body moving slowly. She took one last look at the golden figure standing before the Warp storm, protecting everything, before stumbling out of the laboratory.

Malcador watched her leave, finally turning all his helplessness into a long sigh as he shifted his gaze back to the Emperor.

The Golden Sun cast endless radiance across the Warp, chasing the waves stirred up by the Four Chaos Gods, while the twenty-one incubation pods plummeted rapidly into the depths of the Empyrean.

Deep within the Warp, the wills of the Four Chaos Gods collided, their manic laughter and shrieks echoing through the void as they vied for the spoils. The void twisted into hands and tentacles, surrounding the pods as they trampled and snatched at one another.

A blood-stained hand of Khorne reached down, only to be blocked by a thicket of darkness. Magic wove itself into a net, scooping up the pods to fly toward the realm of Tzeentch, where they sank deep into the inescapable Entropy Swamp.

The Four Chaos Gods checked one another; no deity could escape the infinite chain of suspicion. Whenever one gained the upper hand, the other three would strike without hesitation.

There is no such thing as enmity or friendship in the Warp; interest is eternal, and there is no trust between the Four Chaos Gods.

Emperor quickly intervened to break the stalemate. Taking advantage of the moment the Four Chaos Gods were distracted by their infighting, He channeled His psychic power to shatter the incubation pods, hurling the Primarch into the deeper reaches of the Warp.

"Human! How despicable!"

The Four Chaos Gods roared in fury; a mere human dared to provoke all four of them at once.

This was no longer just provocation; it was an endless contempt for divine majesty!

Emperor's goal was simple: the Warp was the home turf of the Four Chaos Gods, and He could not hope to gain an advantage against four true gods. Acting as a spoiler, however, granted Him more initiative.

The optimal solution now was to obstruct the Four Chaos Gods, turning their grand plans upside down and ensuring the game ended with no winners.

"You shall not have them!"

Amidst hatred and scorn, the Golden Sun emitted a psychic incantation.

Thirteen syllables echoed through the Warp. As they fell, the Warp tides carrying the Primarch accelerated once more, sweeping the Twenty-First Incubation Pod out of the Warp and scattering them across the galaxy.

It happened in the blink of an eye; in a single thought, the Four Chaos Gods had already devised a countermeasure.

The Four Chaos Gods ceased their infighting. Before the incubation pods could leave the Warp, they abandoned what they were about to seize, each selecting a preferred incubation pod and casting them out of the Warp toward worlds they had long since prepared.

"Human, crawl back to the material universe! This is not your domain!"

Under the influence of the Four Chaos Gods, the Warp, usually so accommodating, now began to expel the unwelcome guest from the material universe.

Emperor felt His anchor in the Warp slipping. Seeing that most of the incubation pods had already departed, He offered no resistance, and the Golden Sun slowly withdrew.

In another instant, while His consciousness had not yet fully departed the Warp, the Emperor unleashed a bolt of psychic energy.

He had seen four arms emerge from the void, all reaching toward the Twenty-First Incubation Pod.

What exactly is he? Emperor was filled with questions, unable to understand why the Four Chaos Gods were so fixated on that particular soul.

His brief confusion did not delay His actions; the Emperor would certainly obstruct anything the Four Chaos Gods cared about!

"Look at this! My actions are legitimate!" The magnificent voice of the Golden Will echoed through the Warp.

From the Golden Sun the Emperor had become, He cast a parchment bearing the marks of the Four Chaos Gods.

Though the Warp is evil and fickle, it has another side: one that values contracts and rituals.

Emperor invoked the contract, and its contents took effect immediately. The power of the Warp slipped from the grasp of the Four Chaos Gods, dissipating into nothingness under the radiance of the contract, no longer blocking His path.

"No!" A divine roar erupted from the depths of the Warp. Influenced by the contract, the consciousness of the Dark Gods was forced back into their true forms.

Khorne left the Brass Throne and swept His blade horizontally; the sword light tore through the distance of the Warp, striking directly at the Golden Sun.

Emperor channeled more psychic energy into the contract, turning the clauses that bound the Dark Gods to their oaths into weapons to strike them.

The marks of the Dark Gods flared with intense light. Chains shot from the mouths of the skulls on the Skull Throne, binding Khorne and dragging Him back to the Brass Throne, chaining Him to the seat.

The other Dark Gods suffered the same fate, unable to resist; these powers originated from within themselves, a form of self-restraint.

"Dark Gods. Our bargain remains valid. Now is not the time for the contract to be fulfilled."

Seeing that the incubation pods had safely left the Warp, the Emperor left behind a warning and departed the Warp, scorning the fury of the Four Chaos Gods.

When His soul returned to the laboratory, only Malcador and the arriving Valdor were waiting; Erda had already departed.

He did not ask when Erda had left. Without a word, He closed His eyes, sensing those lost sons connected to Him by blood within the material universe.

"They are safe. Although they are scattered across the galaxy and their specific locations are difficult to pinpoint, I can be certain they are still alive."

Then, with a hint of pleasant surprise, He said to Malcador: "One is even nearby; he is right here on Terra."

"My friend, we must be quick." Emperor knew well that the dangers of Terra were no less than those of the galaxy. He immediately set off with Malcador toward the location of the lost son.

"New gene-enhanced warriors must be mass-produced immediately. The galaxy waits for humanity to conquer it, and I must find my sons before the Dark Gods find them and change them forever."