The depths beneath the Imperial Palace reached far deeper than anyone could imagine.
Far from sunlight, deep within this utterly forbidden domain, where constant energy fields gave the air a tang of metal and ozone, lay one of the Emperor's most secret laboratories.
The space was vast enough to hold a small city. Its towering vault disappeared into darkness, illuminated only by countless floating dataslates, holographic projections, and enormous, intricate instruments of unknown purpose. Their ghostly blue and pallid white light studded the endless darkness like a sea of stars.
The air hummed with high-voltage energy, the faint sound of liquid flowing through pipes, and an indescribable whisper that seemed to rise from the depths of the Warp.
The Master of Mankind, the Emperor, stood at the center of this "sea of stars."
He wore a simple white robe, yet radiated a majesty as impossible to look upon as a star.
His eyes, which seemed to hold boundless wisdom and the weight of ages, were fixed on a model of a genetic sequence slowly rotating within a massive transparent vessel before him, glowing with faint psychic light.
His fingers tapped the empty air, each movement triggering dramatic shifts in the countless streams of data around him.
Soundlessly, a concealed sliding door opened at the edge of the laboratory.
An old man with a withered frame, yet harboring power as profound as an ancient well, walked slowly inside, bearing a Staff that symbolized supreme authority.
Dressed in a plain dark gray robe, he was Malcador, the Emperor's regent and the oldest, most loyal servant of the Imperium of Man.
His footsteps made no sound, as though he were a ghost. Two Adeptus Custodes guards in ornate golden armour, silent as statues, remained outside the sliding door like his shadows. They did