The Emperor raised a hand, and two different scenes appeared in His left and right palms.
In His left hand lay the remnants of war: displaced crowds, countless worlds trembling beneath the iron boots of xenos and Chaos.
Families torn apart and loved ones scattered were merely the mildest part of this misery. Groups of living people were bound and loaded like cargo, then cast into altars and shrines as sacrifices to the gods of destruction.
Melted crowds fused into nightmarish mountain ranges. Spikes of fire, more numerous than the hairs upon a human body, pierced those mountains one after another, forming scenes of madness and evil.
The scene in His right hand was completely different. No war raged across the land, no bombardments boiled the seas. Some lived in hive cities, some in the wilderness, and some in near-modern cities.
Image after image portrayed every kind of life found within the Imperium's vast territory. Those lives had their good and bad, but they all shared one thing: peace and stability.
The Emperor looked at Hope and brought His hands together. The images vanished. In a deep voice, He said to Hope, "Either them or you. That is the price of Loyalty."
Hope looked at the Emperor, recalling how he had been inducted into the Lamenters Chapter.
"Be worthy of Sanguinius's blood..." The metal words engraved in the most prominent place within the Chapter archives echoed in Hope's mind.
We are the sons of angels. We will never stand by and watch mortals perish. We fight for those weaker than ourselves, for those we love. We march toward death so that others may live.
The Emperor watched Hope sink into his memories without displaying any emotion. There was neither joy nor anger, sorrow nor delight. Even when He showed Hope