I Want to Rest

An endless, warm, and sacred light enveloped Dante's consciousness.

Weightless, boundless, only a sense of peace and tranquility, a return to one's origins.

He felt himself floating and rising, as if he were soaking in the purest energy spring, where every fragment of his soul, scarred by battle, years, and burdens, was being gently soothed and repaired.

I'm alive again?

The thought arose naturally, carrying a sense of renewed vitality, as if one could truly begin a completely new journey in life.

But just a moment later, a clearer understanding replaced this illusion.

He clearly "knew": I was dead.

That all-consuming battle against the Hive Tyrant, that heart that flew away, that final stab, and the serene peace before consciousness sank into darkness...

Every detail is vivid and beyond question.

A deep and contented peace washed over me, washing away the last trace of regret or lingering concern.

I have finally reached the end of my road.

I finally... gave everything I could to the Emperor.

My loyalty, my life, every day and night, every swing of my sword, every choice I've made over the past fifteen hundred years...

Even my last thoughts and ideas have been given without reservation.

"The Emperor..."

Dante's consciousness uttered a silent question, echoing in the pure light, his tone devoid of any worldly burdens, only filled with the lightness and anticipation of liberation:

"Am I worthy... to stand before Your Golden Throne? Am I fortunate enough... to be among the angels? I have given... all that I have."

He felt like a feather, drifting towards a warm and eternal home, as if he were about to return to the embrace of his long-lost parents.

"Of course you are qualified, my child."

A voice rang out.

It was not a grand declaration that resounded throughout the world, but a gentle response that penetrated directly into the depths of the soul.

The voice contained the majesty Dante was familiar with, but at this moment it contained even more of a tenderness that he dared to imagine only in his deepest dreams or most devout prayers.

Dante's "existence" seemed to suddenly become tangible, as he was gently embraced and held in a pair of infinitely broad, incredibly strong, yet incredibly gentle arms.

He couldn't see the specific form, but he could "feel" the warmth and security of the embrace with absolute clarity.

He could "feel" a gaze filled with endless pity, pride, and deep love, quietly watching over him.

father...

This realization alone almost brought Dante to tears again, even though he didn't have a real body or tear ducts at this moment.

"Father..."

All his strength, all his sense of responsibility, all his armor as Chapter Master melted away completely in this embrace, leaving only the most authentic and vulnerable "child":

"I have given everything... I am so tired... I am so tired... Please let me follow you... Please let me stay by your side... I beg you..."

The Blood Angels Chapter Master, who once dominated the Milky Way and supported a corner of the Imperium for fifteen centuries, now spoke with a tone of childlike dependence and sobbing.

He desperately wanted to reach out and grasp, to embrace, this loving kindness he had longed for for a thousand years.

However, what he could always reach was that warm yet invisible light.

"I understand, my child...you did very well...you did an excellent job..."

Sanguinius ' voice grew softer, and his embrace tightened, as if he wanted to completely merge Dante into his own being.

With this boundless love, you shielded him from all past pain and weariness, saying, "You did a better job than any of us..."

Dante was captivated by this embrace.

All the weariness, all the wounds, all the burdens seemed to be dissolved and carried away by this light.

He only wanted to stay here, to stay here forever, to never move again, to never think again, to never fight again.

Right here, that's good... that's good.

"But... you can't be here."

A sigh, both extremely soft and extremely deep, like the finest ice crystal falling into a warm lake of the heart, instantly froze all of Dante's peace and longing.

It felt like falling into an ice cave.

"No... no! Father! Don't send me away!"

Father! I want to stay here! I want to stay with you! My mission is complete! I have given everything I have!

Let me rest... Please! Please!!!

Dante's consciousness began to "struggle" frantically, not in rebellion, but in the most humble and desperate pleas and cries.

He didn't want to go back; he didn't want to return to that cold reality filled with pain, sacrifice, and endless responsibility.

He only wished to find eternal peace in this heavenly embrace.

The crystalline "tears of light," formed from pure Psionic Energy and emotion, continuously slid down from the light surrounding Dante (the part belonging to Sanguinius).

Every tear reflects an unspeakable grief—the profound pain of a father forced to push his most weary, most yearning-for-rest child back into the sea of suffering.

"I'm sorry... my son... if you must hate someone, hate me..."

Sanguinius ' voice trembled with suppressed emotion, "We... have sacrificed too much for the Imperium, for humanity... sacrificed everything."

"I... am not a good angel... and I am even less of a good father..."

But I'm sorry... for the survival of humanity, for that faint but essential hope... I... must make a choice."

Even if... it means abandoning my... most prized son again.

These words were heavy and tragic, filled with sacrifice and helplessness, like a final pronouncement of Destiny.

However, just as Dante's despair reached its peak, Sanguinius's "tone" suddenly underwent a subtle change.

The heavy sense of mission receded slightly, replaced by a more personal, more straightforward, and even slightly relaxed and cunning emotion.

"Of course, what I just said... was what should be said 'openly'."

Sanguinius ' voice seemed to carry a hint of the handsome, radiant archangel from some ancient fresco in Dante's memory.

A warm light gently caressed the top of Dante's consciousness, filled with pure and unreserved pampering.

If I were to only speak my true inner thoughts...

Sanguinius ' voice lowered, like a father whispering his deepest desires in his son's ear, "Then I absolutely do not wish for you to die, my son."

That Milky Way, the bright future that humanity may usher in, and so many other magnificent sights you haven't yet witnessed...

Please forgive you, my greedy and selfish father.

His tone became incredibly firm, even carrying an undeniable air of "willfulness": "I must resurrect you."

I must let you, in my place, in place of us old folks bound by the past and sacrifices, witness firsthand that bright future that may truly come.

Even if you don't believe it now, even if you think it's just a vague and unreal dream.

The touch intensified slightly, carrying a final, most earnest plea:

"So... this is my last request to you, Sanguinius."

My most outstanding, most resilient, and most proud son... Believe me.

I also believe in my brother, Robert."

"A bright future... it lies ahead, right before our eyes."

We can all see that.

We will definitely see it.

I... I assure you.