As always, the Emperor used silence to exert pressure. Once he had stated his purpose, he stood where he was without another sound.
But Aaron had dealt with the Emperor many times by now. After his initial nervousness, his expression gradually returned to normal, and he briefly told the Emperor about Lorgar.
The Emperor listened with a slight frown. "This is no surprise, Ra. Lorgar came following in your footsteps. This was not the first time, nor will it be the last. You must learn to grow accustomed to it."
Steady and cold, his seemingly heartless words carried immense majesty and pressure. The Master of Mankind had once disguised himself when necessity demanded it. He would laugh heartily before Horus, show suitable pleasure before Sanguinius, and crack jokes at banquets to lighten the mood. But the soul of this hulking golden Warboss was cold. As the founder of the Imperium of Man, the Master of Mankind had lived for more than forty thousand years, and his heart had long since grown numb.
Lorgar's defeat was only temporary, and the Emperor took no pleasure in it. It did not even compare to the Grey Knights' victory over the Daemon Primarch Angron on Armageddon. At least the Grey Knights had prevented Angron from returning to the material universe for a hundred years.
Perhaps realizing that Aaron's current strength remained far short of what he needed to truly fight a Primarch, the Master of Mankind finally softened his tone, his expression growing a little gentler. "But a victory is a victory. Even an insignificant victory is still a victory."
"I need your help, Your Majesty."
Thinking of the threat Lorgar posed, Aaron forced down his resistance and spoke of his own accord.
"Oh? Have you finally learned to ask me for help, Ra?"