Watch till the End
__________
After Raven finished speaking, he vanished with a sharp crack. His form dissolved into wisps of white vapour that scattered into nothing.
Valdo frowned, puzzling over the creature's parting words.
"I feel like that thing is playing for a fool. But I can't prove it."
...
Raven possessed a rare ability to traverse the void itself. He could appear anywhere across the galaxy at will. Most days, he preferred to remain close to the Emperor's side.
He was content with simple pleasures like consuming "fries." But this ti, he had deed intervention necessary. The future sovereign of five hundred worlds needed help, both ntal and physical.
XIII Legion's Temporary Flagship
Since the catastrophe at Sepehris, Roboute Guilliman had locked himself away in his private study. He refused both food and rest. The events in the Osiris Cluster weighed heavily on his conscience. Guilt and self-recrimination filled him beyond even a Primarch's capacity for grief.
The Primarch's very soul had fractured under the psychic shock. He had witnessed so much death. Now he was trapped in an endless spiral of remorse.
"Well, well. Let's see who's hiding away, drowning in self-pity."
Raven materialised from nowhere. He landed gracefully atop Guilliman's ornate desk.
"Lord Raven!" Guilliman started, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Ah, it's the Blue Giant himself, wallowing in lancholy." Raven perched on the Primarch's pauldron. Energy flowed from his small form into Guilliman's transhuman fra, carefully nding the fractured soul within.
"Please, spare your mockery," Guilliman said. Though he felt his oppressive mood lifting inexplicably. The crushing weight of guilt began to ease.
"The Battle of Sepehris was not your failing, Roboute," Raven said. His tone was surprisingly gentle. "Even without your intervention, those souls would have perished. At least you gave them vengeance. The only imperfection is that the Source Tracker escaped."
"I will hunt it down," Guilliman growled. Righteous fury blazed in his eyes.
Raven nodded approvingly. "A worthy goal. We should indeed destroy it."
"But I cannot locate the creature," Guilliman's expression darkened with frustration.
"That's precisely why I'm here," Raven replied. "I will help you resolve this matter completely. Then we can restore proper order."
"You can find it?" The dejected Primarch's spirits suddenly soared.
"Naturally. How do you think I beca the supre ruler of the Imperium? By being adorable and showing off snack foods?"
"I genuinely thought that might be the reason," Guilliman admitted.
Raven fell silent for a mont. "..."
"Gather your finest warriors. I will open a passage that leads directly to the Source Tracker. Then you can destroy it and end this nightmare."
"Understood, my lord." Guilliman rose and strode from his chambers to assemble his forces.
The Primarch moved with characteristic efficiency. Within monts, he returned with Captain Gage and other veteran warriors bearing Imperial Engine implants.
"Let us depart," Raven announced. He transford into a stream of brilliant light that carved a shimring portal through reality itself. Colours danced across its surface.
The Primarch led his warriors into the luminous passage.
Aboard the Crystal Warship
The Source Weaver sat upon its crystalline throne. Piercing eyes gazed into the infinite void, filled with boundless hatred for humanity.
"Humans," it whispered to the darkness, "we shall return. And when we do, you will suffer our most exquisite revenge."
In the next instant, light erupted across the warship's bridge.
A squad of heavily armored Astartes warriors materialized from thin air. Their ceramite plate glead in the alien vessel's strange illumination.
The Source Tracker whirled around. Its psychically-enhanced eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.
'I just muttered a few idle threats, and these accursed humans appear as if summoned by damn fate itself? Does this universe have so personal grudge against my species?'
"Found you."
Guilliman's voice carried the weight of barely contained fury. He advanced toward the Source Tracker's throne. Each footfall rang like a death knell.
Alien guardians phased from the immaterium's edge. They launched themselves at the approaching Primarch.
"For the Emperor!" Captain Gage roared. He led his battle-brothers in a charge that would clear the path for their gene-father.
The two forces collided in a brutal lee. Guilliman's master-crafted blade cleaved through an attacking xenos. His free hand clenched, wielding spatial manipulation to crush another opponent into component atoms.
The Source Weaver unleashed a devastating psychic assault. It hoped to halt the Primarch's advance.
But Guilliman's rage had pushed his Limit Engine beyond normal paraters. Distorted space-ti ford protective barriers around him. They deflected the creature's ntal attack with contemptuous ease.
The Primarch lunged forward with transhuman speed.
"I promised I would find you, xenos filth. I promised I would kill you. Now I fulfil that oath."
His blade pierced the Source Weaver's chest. Energy crackled along the weapon's edge.
[INITIATING FINAL JUDGNT]
[TARGET CONFIRD: PSYCHIC LIFEFORM]
[PROBABILITY OF TARGET SURVIVAL: ZERO]
Following the engine system's cold pronouncent, the Source Weaver crumbled to ash. It was scattered on unfelt stellar winds.
The oppressive darkness that had clouded Guilliman's mind lifted completely.
The Astartes systematically purged the remainder of the crystal warship. They ensured the complete extinction of the species. The Osiris Mind Control race was consigned forever to oblivion's embrace, erased from the galaxy's mory.
The Emperor's Laboratory
After resolving Guilliman's crisis, Raven tore open space-ti and returned to the Emperor's private laboratory aboard the Grand Design.
The Master of Mankind had just completed His latest experint. He was powering down the machinery when Raven arrived. Upon seeing Raven's return, He spoke without preamble.
"The Weave's construction has achieved success. Now Malcador must proceed with our plan's next phase."
"What's the next step?" Raven asked, sampling his beloved fries.
"I intend for Malcador to construct a Golden Throne," the Emperor declared. "It shall serve as the central nexus for controlling the Weave, temporal anchor points, and the Astronomican. All phenona touching the Warp's realm."
Upon hearing these words, Raven stiffly and slowly turned his head toward the Emperor with disbelief.
"Wait a second, I think my ears are buzzing, but you... Did you just say you want to build a Golden Throne?"
"You appear shocked as well. Are you amazed as well? As I expected, it is indeed a masterwork of planning," the Emperor said with evident satisfaction.
"The Golden Throne I now design incorporates knowledge from multiple realities. It will surpass the original conception. It will provide unprecedented amplification and grant power that transcends even the divine."
The Emperor raised his hand, and A holographic projection manifested, displaying a magnificent and impossibly complex chanical throne to Raven's sight. Dense streams of data flowed around the image, revealing the scope of this monuntal undertaking.
"Brother, don't be so stupid, I am urging in the na of fries, please abandon this path entirely. We can devise alternative control thods," Raven insisted.
"The Weave requires a guiding consciousness, else it becos vulnerable to corruption," the Emperor replied. "Ideally, we would create a control system devoid of self-interest and perfectly just. But for now, my oversight represents the optimal solution."
The Weave of the D&D multiverse had Mystra, the Goddess of Magic, as its core. She was both leader and guardian of those forces. If the Imperium sought to establish a galactic Weave, it too would need a shepherding intelligence.
Without such guidance, the network would inevitably beco a plaything for the Architect of Fate. Every psyker connected to the Weave would beco a potential vector for corruption. A catastrophe beyond imagining for the Imperium.
After a mont's consideration, Raven offered an alternative.
"Instead of the throne, create a control console or command deck."
"If that proves useless, you could modify the design to resemble sothing like a cross. Then you could be Jesus."
The Emperor's expression grew troubled. "Being suspended naked upon wooden beams seems... undignified for the Imperium's sovereign."
Raven stared at the Emperor in bewildernt. "Who said anything about nudity? Why would you be naked?"
"Was Christ not crucified in that state?" the Emperor asked matter-of-factly.
"He wore a loincloth," Raven protested. "Don't try to deceive . I may not be scholarly, but I know basic history."
"I am Christ," the Emperor stated simply, eting Raven's gaze. "That was rely one of My many incarnations throughout history. I recall quite clearly being suspended in that manner."
Raven fell silent. How does one argue with an eyewitness to their own crucifixion?
"The Golden Throne design incorporates console functions while allowing to sit rather than stand perpetually. And certainly without being impaled upon wood," the Emperor concluded.
After the Master of Mankind's patient explanation, Raven reluctantly accepted the Golden Throne project. Even if future complications arose, sitting upon a throne seed preferable to crucifixion. At minimum, the forr possessed greater dignity and marginally more comfort than the latter.
"Do you also plan to utilise the Fifteenth Primarch as backup support for the Throne's operations?" Raven inquired.
"Indeed. Not only the Fifteenth, but the Eleventh as well," the Emperor confird. "Both possess extraordinary psychic gifts. Should My presence beco impossible, either could assu My role."
Raven sighed deeply. It seed the Golden Throne's creation had beco inevitable. Moreover, its capabilities would far exceed those of the predetermined tiline. When, not if, problems erged, the consequences would prove exponentially more catastrophic.
The Golden Throne project had existed even before the Great Crusade's launch. The Imperial Palace's construction atop Terra's highest mountain range served partly to conceal the Throne's vast underlying chanisms.
Raven's arrival had caused the Emperor to temporarily abandon those plans. But now, with temporal anchors and the Weave advancing toward completion, the Master of Mankind had revived this sche.
"I can only hope none of this leads to the worst possible outco," Raven murmured with growing unease.
Fate, after all, remains utterly unpredictable.
[End of Chapter]
________
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