The Imperial Truth Wearing the Skin of the Imperial Creed (Please Vote)

Guilliman left the office within the Imperial Palace on Terra.

This incomparably magnificent, imposing colossal palace inspired no attachment in him whatsoever—only endless pain and troubles.

Anyone who entered this palace had to bear the heaviest responsibilities in the world and endure the constant torment of their own heart.

He who wished to wear the crown must first bear its weight.

Bound to power was responsibility—the burden of the fates of countless humans across the entire Imperium.

As he crossed the long, decorated corridors, Guilliman had no interest in the exquisite artworks gathered from every human world. He only felt increasingly oppressed.

Every time he passed through a gate or turned a corner, an Emperor's Custodian would emerge from somewhere unknown and watch Guilliman's every move without pause.

Their gazes were exceptionally cold, utterly devoid of emotion, as though they were watching a prisoner.

"You saw it, didn't you? They trust no one—not me, not the Space Marines, not even the High Lords."

"They are the jailers of this magnificent palace. Everyone except the Emperor is merely a prisoner."

Lox spoke with Guilliman as they walked, while Enrico of the Imperial Fists followed behind them.

"He came for Dorn, didn't he? Your appearance has given them hope they have not seen in a long time."

Guilliman spoke softly. He had long since seen through the Imperial Fists' intentions.

"Stop holding back. The Imperium needs Dorn to return now. Terra's affairs alone have tied me down so thoroughly that I cannot get away. If anything happens, we will be in an extremely passive position."

"After a century of extermination campaigns, although I have killed most of the rebels in the galaxy, there is still one place where I truly lack the strength to act."

Guilliman did not say the name, but