Perturabo lost control and threw a punch at The Emperor, only hurting himself. Enduring the burning pain in his soul, he kicked The Emperor again.
The Emperor watched Perturabo's fury without a word, allowing Perturabo to harm himself through self-mutilation while repairing the damage to his soul.
Ragged breathing drowned out Perturabo's collapsing mind. He seized The Emperor by the shoulders, utterly heedless of how his soul was being steamed and scorched.
"Tell me, you bastard... You need me, don't you? I'm important to your plan too, aren't I? I'm not some useless trash only fit for dirty, exhausting work!"
Perturabo's tone concealed grievance and a plea for recognition as he stared at The Emperor's indifferent, frigid face.
Perhaps the weakness buried deep within him could no longer remain hidden. His gaze looked especially pitiful and fragile. Perhaps a tear filled with humiliation and resentment had slipped from those eyes, only to be vaporized by The Emperor's flames, leaving behind nothing but a hate-filled face.
The Emperor pushed Perturabo's hands aside. "I do not need you."
"Heh... Of course..." Perturabo let out a self-mocking laugh. His body swayed slightly as he turned away, unwilling to look at The Emperor again. "You've always treated us as tools... you bastard..."
The Emperor reached out, wanting to rest a hand on Perturabo's shoulder, but his hand stopped in midair before withdrawing. His lips moved as though he wanted to say something, yet in the end, he never opened his mouth to offer any comfort.
"My God, what kind of awful father are you?" Slaanesh set up a lens on the Golden Throne and secretly watched The Emperor interact with his son. The Emperor's abysmal emotional intelligence nearly gave her internal injuries from sheer frustration.
Slaanesh's shadow slipped into the lens and appeared behind