These people had gone mad.
They swarmed into the Imperium's Imperial Palace.
Even the Adeptus Custodes guarding the Imperial Palace seemed possessed.
Back when the Emperor was still alive.
Even Constantine, commander of the Adeptus Custodes, had not faced anything this complicated when dealing with the Primarch Alpharius's various assassination attempts.
Although Alpharius had indeed successfully assassinated the Emperor many times in his simulated assassinations, he had also pushed the Adeptus Custodes' defensive capabilities to their absolute peak.
After large numbers of Adeptus Custodes had died of exhaustion in the Webway War.
The Emperor's security had weakened considerably.
Even xenos of all kinds could successfully infiltrate the Imperial Palace on Terra, eventually disguise themselves as Adeptus Custodes, and attempt to assassinate the Emperor.
"The Emperor's Children are requesting our help. Help Fulgrim escape Slaanesh's palace."
"Praise the Emperor."
In his visions, Malcador saw countless futures of the Imperium.
In the past, he had disliked looking at these prophetic futures, because the future would only make him follow predetermined trends. The universe held countless possibilities, and the future he feared most was the one most likely to become fixed.
But these damned Emperor's Children coming to him for help to rescue Fulgrim was bizarre beyond all reason.
And there was also a group of Necrons kneeling on the ground, begging for the Emperor's gaze, shouting loyalty as they charged at xenos.
No wonder that, after seeing so many things in the future, the Emperor had simply stopped involving himself in matters between the Primarchs and buried himself in the Imperial Palace on Terra to do serious work.
Otherwise, the visions of the future alone would have driven him mad.
Yet the future Malcador saw was not an illusion.
It was real.
The Emperor's Children truly were calling for help.
And the