The Emperor Told Us All to Leave

Guilliman stepped back several paces, leaving the space before the throne for Lin En.

Lin En stood before the steps of the throne dais, looking up at the towering staircase and the red cloak at its end.

The steps were enormous, each over a meter high. They had not been built for mortals, and there was no way he could climb them.

Lin En activated the [Eye of True Sight] on the Emperor.

The Eye of True Sight could see through all illusions.

In an instant, every magnificent facade faded from before his eyes.

The true Golden Throne was an instrument of torture forged from Adamantium and unknown materials, neither exquisite nor attractive—if anything, rather crude.

The throne itself was not large, only big enough for Yellow Pelt to sit upon.

Countless pipes and cables extended from its base, stretching endlessly like tree roots as they burrowed into the throne's foundation and deep beneath Terra.

Every second, it extracted an immense amount of psychic energy from the person seated upon it, then transmitted that energy elsewhere.

Historical records stated that Malcador, humanity's strongest psyker at the time, had sat on the Golden Throne in the Emperor's place for less than half a day before he was drained into ashes.

Other than the Emperor—other than a god—no one could bear the Golden Throne any longer.

Yet even such a terrifying Golden Throne had failed to drain the Emperor completely. His energy still overflowed, forming a golden psychic mist that lingered within the Throne Room year-round.

Lin En saw the skeletal remains upon the throne through the projection, with boundless Golden Light surrounding them.

Yellow Pelt had even regrown one eye.

He was on the verge of becoming a god.

The power accumulated over ten thousand years was already probing the edge