Judgment, Long Overdue (VIII: Scheming)

Lion El'Jonson had lived for many years. In the material realm, he had truly spent ten thousand years alive. Even in myths and legends, that was no small number.

Many people reverently called him a son of god, believing him to be another kind of god—a demigod. Living proof, far superior to themselves, of why the God-Emperor was a god.

There were enough such people to stretch from Caliban to the farthest edge of the galaxy. Anyone in the Imperium who believed in the "God-Emperor" also believed in him, and at some point, would pray to him.

Yet the Lion had never heard them, not even once. He could not hear them, nor did he wish to. Therefore, unlike Sanguinius, he did not set aside a day each Emperor's Ascension Day to listen to the prayers of the masses.

The truth was, even if he could hear them, he would not answer.

After ten thousand years, he had long learned that silence was golden.

That was why he chose not to answer Azrael's question—there was no point in answering. Only young men like Azrael and Asmodai, who still held hope in their hearts, would place hope in the Lion and think that he would reveal the answer.

Those like the Risen, who knew him better and knew this world better, would not press for answers. They would only do everything they could to save, to kill, to carry out orders.

But then again, how precious was the hope in these young men's hearts?

This cold world had not yet had time to extinguish the passion in their chests. The Lion did not want them to lose it.

After all, though that impulse made them long to hear him say, "I will wait for you," rather than, "I will act alone,"