"You... tricked... me..."
Horus stood rooted to the spot. His massive body trembled violently with absolute fury.
He... had... been... tricked... by... a... "component"?
"AAAAAAAAAAH-!"
A roar filled with boundless humiliation, rage, and madness thundered across all of Terra!
"Malcador..."
In the deepest reaches of the Imperial Palace, before that cold golden throne, the Emperor of mankind's majestic eyes, burning with golden fire, revealed a trace of undisguisable weariness and... sorrow for the first time.
He had felt it. Horus's blasphemous Chaos energy had set foot on Terra.
"My... dearest friend."
Malcador, the great "Regent" who had devoted his entire life to protecting the Emperor and humanity, slowly approached the Emperor.
There was no fear on his face, no sorrow. Only the peace of one who had fulfilled his destiny.
"It is time, Your Majesty."
"I am ready."
The Emperor fell silent. He reached out and gently rested his hand on Malcador's aged, deeply wrinkled shoulder.
"We... will... meet again."
"I am always here."
Malcador smiled. He turned and walked, step by step, toward the terrifying Golden Throne that could drain even a god utterly dry.
"Wait."
Just before Malcador could sit down, a cold, weak electronic voice, thick with mechanical resonance, suddenly came from the shadows beneath the throne.
"Uh... well... Lord... Malcador?"
Malcador stopped. He and the Emperor turned toward the source of the voice, but there was no surprise in their eyes, only a solemnity that suggested they had expected this all along.
A battered "Tech-Sage," seemingly on the verge of falling apart, leaned against the cold base of the Golden Throne, feebly raising a mechanical arm that still spat electrical sparks.
Resting on his arm was a strangely shaped object, flickering with faint Psychic Power...
"A Voice Synthesizer?" Malcador said softly.
"Cough... yes." Liu Zhipeng felt