Emperor Reward

Darius hesitated for a moment before replying, "No. My ancestor died on the battlefield. He… he was struck in the chest, a direct and honorable death, just as he would have wanted."

Joe closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling within him. After a long silence, he finally opened them again and spoke, his tone steady. "Yes, you are indeed my soldier. So, Darius, what brings you here? You're the only one who has visited me recently, and I doubt it was easy for you to arrange this meeting."

Darius nodded, his expression serious. "It wasn't easy at all. There are layers of approvals and countless procedures to go through. Even after getting clearance, the meeting time is strictly limited. Today, I only have half an hour. But I assure you, this level of supervision won't last much longer. In about two months, the restrictions should be lifted. Please understand—it's a matter of system and protocol. I appreciate your patience."

Joe's expression remained calm as he replied, "I didn't say it's a bad thing. In fact, it's quite suitable for me right now. I spend my days reading and basking in the sun, which gives me the time I need to reacquaint myself with this changed world."

Darius's face softened with relief. "I'm glad you feel that way. The House of Nobles has already started discussing your situation. Once they reach a consensus, they'll step in. I believe your freedom isn't far off."

Hearing this, Joe's brows furrowed slightly. The mention of the House of Nobles brought back memories he thought he had left behind. He had severed ties with them long ago—why would they concern themselves with him now, after nine thousand years? However, he quickly dismissed the thought. Speculating wouldn't change anything. Some matters required patience. "I understand. That's good news," Joe said, his tone neutral. "But surely you didn't come here just to deliver that?"

"Of course not," Darius said, a faint smile curving his lips. He reached into his bag and carefully pulled out a small metal box. Holding it as though it were a sacred relic, he placed it on the table in front of Joe. "I came to bring you this. Please, open it."

Joe's eyes lingered on the box. Its design was familiar—classical, even antiquated by today's standards. Yet, he didn't touch it. Instead, he asked calmly, "What is it?"

"This," Darius said solemnly, "is the Emperor's reward."

"The Emperor's reward?" Joe's voice held a trace of curiosity.

"Yes. During the great rebellion, when the traitor Horus led his forces to the gates of the Emperor's Palace, the Emperor himself emerged victorious but suffered grievous injuries. After the war, he made his final arrangements and ascended to the Golden Throne, where he remains even now."

Joe was already familiar with this story. It was the first thing he studied after passing the scrutiny of the Ordo Malleus and being confined here. He had requested books—many books. Learning about the state of the Empire through reading was his priority, and he had delved deeply into its history.

Among the accounts that captured his attention, the final battle stood out most vividly. The Empire triumphed, but beneath the surface of those triumphant words lay grim truths. Joe had learned to read between the lines, uncovering the raw and often ugly reality masked by polished narratives.

The fall of the Immortal Wall was swift, and the Chaos Gate failed to hold back the relentless tide of Chaos forces. The Imperial defenders were forced into a desperate retreat. Joe had found a forbidden account, heavily censored, but its few remaining details painted a haunting picture.

"The mile-wide outer wall of the Imperial Palace was more than just a defensive structure—it was a labyrinth of storage rooms, offices, and workshops. Bloody battles raged through its corridors, and soon, rivers of blood ran ankle-deep, mingling the lifeblood of loyal Imperial soldiers with that of traitors. Not far away, at the Lion's Gate Spaceport, wave after wave of Chaos Space Marines landed, swelling the enemy ranks. The fall of humanity's last fortress seemed inevitable."

Joe's focus had lingered on the tragic fate of Sanguinius. Stationed at the End Gate with his Blood Angels, he stood as the final bulwark against Chaos. The enemy launched relentless assaults, hoping to breach the gate. Sanguinius alone faced down a monstrous bloodthirster demon and countless traitors, holding the line long enough for the surviving defenders to retreat behind the gate. He sacrificed himself to buy time, falling to the might of Horus in a heart-wrenching clash of power and spirit.

The records revealed that Horus, desperate to end the war, had ordered his flagship's shields lowered, inviting the Emperor to confront him directly. It was a gamble—one that ended with Horus's defeat but left the Emperor mortally wounded. The Chaos forces, leaderless, fled into the Eye of Terror, abandoning their doomed followers to the Empire's wrath.

Though victorious, the Emperor could not recover. To preserve his existence, he was entombed within the Golden Throne, neither alive nor dead—a silent guardian watching over humanity for millennia.

Joe's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Darius's clear voice: "After being gravely injured, the Emperor still insisted on carrying out his duties as usual. He personally rewarded the meritorious soldiers and passed fair judgment on the traitors. The reward meant for you was presented during that time. It was a token bestowed by my ancestor, Alen, in honor of your service. Since then, our family has safeguarded it for you. The moment you woke up, the ancient protocols were triggered, and we received the official written notice immediately. I've been working tirelessly to meet you in person so that I could hand over this precious reward myself."

Even though Joe was a time traveler and his feelings for the Emperor weren't as deeply rooted or fervent as those of his mentor, the weight of Darius's words struck him like a thunderbolt. For a moment, he simply sat there, stunned, as tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them even if he tried.

Nine thousand years may have separated him from that moment, but it was as if the Emperor and the Empire had never truly abandoned their warriors. For an instant, Joe felt as though time itself had collapsed. Through the ancient box resting on the table, he was transported back to that victorious day. He could almost see the Emperor, bloodied but resolute, seated in his grand hall as he personally honored the brave soldiers. Every warrior, whether present or not, living or fallen, was acknowledged. Those who had been loyal and valiant were awarded with dignity. Their sacrifices had not been in vain—the Emperor had seen it all and ensured that they were properly recognized.

For a ruler like that, how could the warriors not have fought until their very last breath?

Joe reached out, his trembling fingers brushing against the ancient box as though it were the delicate skin of a long-lost lover. "What's inside?" he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion.

"We don't know," Darius replied with a gentle smile. "His Majesty did not specify the contents of the reward. Our family never opened it, nor did we have the authority to do so. It is yours to unveil."

Joe didn't ask further questions. He wiped his tears away, took a deep breath, and carefully broke the seal on the box. He opened it with the reverence one might show when unveiling a sacred relic.