Chapter Five: God-Emperor

The Emperor stood still for a moment as a psychic shockwave hit him with the force of a Thunder Hammer. His senses were no longer obscured by the Thing on the Throne, and he could see the truly horrific nature of the corpse before him. The Immaterium as far as he could sense was utterly glutted with the white-hot power of his doppelganger. The Emperor had been often likened to a Supernova packed into a human form, yet in this reality, his dying body could no longer hold his sheer psychic might and that force was leaking out of him, smothering Terra in unimaginable psychic power. 

This Corpse Emperor had transcended the physical form and become a mass of sheer psychic energy. A shiver went down Athām's spine. This version of him was even further from human than he himself was. Before him was not a man, but a terrifyingly powerful creature, far more akin to the First Races or those who Dwell in the Warp than the children of Terra. He had been worshipped by countless cultures as a deity or something similar due to his power and age, yet he had always spurned that accursed title. Countless beings had called themselves gods in ages past, and every single one of them had been undeserving of worship or adulation. Yet here he was, worshipped as a God and more Warp-Energy than Man, barely tethered to the materium by a broken husk of a body. 

These thoughts and a million more swirled through the mind of the Lord of Perpetuals in about the time a baseline human's reflexes would kick in. In other words, the Emperor was in a state of bewildered shock. Another wave of psychic energy cascaded into the corpse and the Emperor watched as warp-born energy filled the husk's cells and neurons, puppeteering them into a parody of life. The Corpse-Emperor spoke again, it's tone devoid of emotion as it gestured with a wizened limb for the Living-Emperor to come closer.

"Surprise is understandable, none of our projections or visions depicted this outcome. The Enemy ensured that we were blind to their twisted machinations. Yet we are not allowed such weakness and waste. I have a limited amount of time to convey a large amount of information in order to ensure our victory." 

Slowly stepping towards the mouthpiece of his future existence The Living Emperor let his mind touch with the pseudo-god before him. It was like touching the surface of the sun. Pain, excruciating, soul-shredding pain blasted through the Emperor. For both a split second and eternity, he touched his counterpart's soul and felt what he felt and knew what he knew. Over ten millennia of information and experiences were shoved into his mind. Tears began to flow down the Living Emperor's face as the sheer horror of the Heresy, the failure of the Webway, and all of the crimes of the Imperium slammed into him. 

As suddenly as they had begun, the memories ended. The knowledge had flowed into him in a blast of nightmares. The Living Emperors mind felt wrong, the visions were stored deep inside his labyrinthine brain, but not fully accessible to him. He had created thousands of memory locks like this in his time but rarely had the Master of Mankind suffered from one. 

"We implanted as much of our memory as we can access into you, it appears your limited form and emotions are not capable of handling such data all at once. We were so weak then, burdened by compassion, unable to transcend. You are us, but not us. This information is imperative to the survival of the Imperium, and will slowly trickle out as it becomes pertinent. Having all of it at the wrong time could destabilize you and cause errors we can not afford. We will now answer every question you have and more, and the answer to your first question of how the future that is our present occurred is that the Primarch Project failed." 

Still regaining his bearing, the Living Emperor suddenly focused. The thing before revolted him, not just its necrotic existence or its suffering, but the way it spoke and acted. The being that sat on the Golden Throne was far too similar to the cruel pantheons of both Materium and Immaterium. The Emperor knew he was more powerful than any human to ever exist, but this psychic abomination had discarded what separated the Emperor from the countless God-Things he battled and sought to deny. The Corpse Emperor had discarded its humanity and compassion. It was what he feared becoming most: a God-Emperor. 

"You do not approve of what we are? We are this because of the mistakes you will make. The Primarchs will fail, and only war will be left. All we strived for will become naught but dust, leading to both Emperor and Imperium shall becoming rotten titans desperately trying to delay the inevitable as the predators circle closer to our flock. The knowledge of this future is my gift to you, Firstborn of Terra, learn from the mistakes, and save us all." 

Steadying himself and steeling his soul, the Living Emperor said: "So where do we begin?" In response to that, a cascade of images filled the Emperor's mind as the God-Emperor Spoke:

"The most logical start is where our Imperium both truly started and failed: The Primarchs." 

Before his eyes, the Emperor watched the original timeline where the minions of Chaos riding the Birth Echoes of the Dark Prince had destroyed the Infant Primarchs protection and how the Chaos gods hurled them through the Warp to the planets that would rear them.

The Living Emperor watched the childhoods of the Primarchs through the lens of their memories. He saw an equal mix of heroics and horrors. Some like IX and XVIII rose above the hellish nightmares they had been dropped into, while others like XII and XIV became as monstrous as the there homeworlds. 

"So that's how it was, the Four not only stole and twisted them but cast them onto broken worlds." The Emperor spoke with no emotion and could plainly see how the rest of the tale would unfold. Betrayal, Insanity, Chaos, Heresy… brother against brother, and the Galaxy in flames. 

"Why did we not stop them? A cruel youth does not dictate a life? Why did Malcador or I not intervene with the wayward ones?" The God-Emperor responded callously to the question as if such a thought was unworthy of one who possessed their power. 

"Have you deluded yourself? Have you forgotten the second purpose of the Project? To cleanse yourself of weakness and humanity to be a perfect leader of a new age. The Primarchs each hold a shard of your weakness to both empower them and elevate you. As they grow and develop, your humanity will wane. We designed this to offer them a level of protection from the Ruinous Powers and ensure humanity's path to survival"

Shock flashed through the Emperor as he realized the mistake he had made. Each Primarch when he rediscovered them expected a teacher, a guide, even a father, and what they got was an inhuman Emperor. Taking a deep breath, the Master of Mankind asked: "How did you stop Chaos from stealing them? How did you change the timeline?" 

Silence filled the Throne Room for a split second before holy flames burst into being across the gigantic chamber. Thousands of ethereal soldiers cloaked in fire flickered into existence at the base of the Pyramid. Each wore ghoulish burnt Power-Armor that seemed to be a more advanced version of his Thunder Legions. As one, the ghosts knelt before the Golden Throne and the God-Emperor spoke:

 "While we lacked the Primarchs and their gene-seed, enough samples survived for another weapon as great as they were to be born. The Primarchs may have been the greatest generals ever created, but the Legiones Astartes were the greatest army ever born of human stock. Even now, in the current era of the 41st Millenium, they protect the dying Imperium as the Angels of Death. Each one is infused with there Primarch's geneseed and modified not just on the biological and psychological level, but on a spiritual one. Becoming ever so slightly linked to us in both life and death. Those who become lost in the warp can be touched by us and reforged as the Legion of the Damned. They are ones who saved the Primarchs"

Slowly, the ghosts faded out of existence like candles in the wind. The Emperor watched them go observing the various barely legible Legion markings on them. Inverted Omegas, Lighting Bolts, Wings, Blood Drops, and a scant few Custodes disappeared back into the immaterial as the Corpse Emperor continued: 

"The Galaxy is dying, Chaos, Xenos and other threats beyond even the most twisted nightmares of mortals are closing in. The war is lost and all that can be done is delay the inevitable. Even as we speak, the doom of all creation creeps closer. The Despoiler's legions have ripped the galaxy in half while the Locust Hordes descend. Yet in their hubris, Chaos left a small gap in their armor. With their might focused on opening the Great Rift, We used the might of Quadrillions of worshipers to cast my Legion back into history, riding the same currents the First Heretics did." 

The Living Emperors Psychic senses stretched out beyond the Terra to the galaxy at large and he could feel the Galaxy screaming. Billions were dying at the hands of monsters, and he could sense all of it. Every soul ripped from a screaming innocent to feed a Neverborn patron, Every child eaten alive by swarms of fanged xenos, Every hopeless last stand where brave soldiers died screaming prayers and begging for salvation that would never come. 

The Emperor fell to his knees and let out a roar of righteous fury that shook Terra to its core. He had experienced this exact same horror once before when the Age of Strife dawned and the Federation fell. The Emperor of Man had been willing to cast everything aside, his morals, his oaths, even his humanity to prevent another such calamity yet he had failed. Standing again slowly, with tears slowly trickling from his golden eyes, he spoke in a tone that had ordered the deaths of entire worlds 

"I will take this information you have gifted me. I will stop the grim darkness of the future from unfolding at all costs. The Imperium will ascend, no matter the price that must be paid" 

The corpse on the Throne was still. The God-Emperor's mission was complete, and now all that was left was for the Emperor to return to the dawn of the Imperium and end the Long War before it could even begin.