"Dorn, where did you go?"
Guilliman voiced his question as he looked at Dorn, clad in golden armor.
"To see Father. I know this place far better than you do."
Of course, Guilliman knew that Dorn's familiarity with Terra far surpassed his own.
"We can't help him, Dorn. Russ felt the signs Father sent down. We all know he's still alive, but he's trapped in that prison called the Golden Throne, unable to move."
Dorn nodded, then turned his gaze back to Guilliman.
"The commander of the Ten Thousand told me the Throne's condition is deteriorating, and no one in the Imperium knows what to do about it?"
Guilliman looked at Dorn in surprise.
"I didn't know. The Adeptus Custodes have never reported any of this to me."
"What?"
"Perhaps they feared I'd make decisions they couldn't accept."
This time, it was Dorn's turn to be surprised. He seemed to have guessed something.
"You let the Men of Iron see Father? Such a dangerous act doesn't sound like something you would do."
Guilliman drew a deep breath.
"The Men of Iron did see Father, and they even pointed out that there was room to optimize the Golden Throne."
"But the Adeptus Custodes didn't trust those dangerous Ancient Relics. Even I was deeply wary of them at the time."
"In the end, the Men of Iron left after taking only a single look at Father."
"But their development surpassed everyone's imagination. Their numbers grew far faster than anyone anticipated, and the technological capabilities they demonstrated were even more frightening."
"I soon realized that these Ancient Relics could no longer be stopped, and at the time, the Imperium desperately needed the strength of the Men of Iron."
"Under the signs Father gave us, the Imperium finally received the aid of these Ancient