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The room was emptying of the final players. Those that would mark the changing point in the Imperium and Mankind’s history. Such a feat could not be awarded to the Custodian Guard of the Lanterns of Charon who stood vigil over the Golden Throne.
It was not that they did not give to the future a great amount of worth. It would be that their contribution would be forgotten while the Emperor’s name is to be inscribed upon the very fabric of reality itself.
There was only one other person within this room who defied such a fate.
Malcador the Sigillite sat upon the Golden Throne with his eyes closed. The Omnissiah could taste the pain that was coming but such amounts were not great enough that it forced Malcador to scream towards the skies. He could hide it, hidden behind a barrier of sleep that he now sported.
This was his fate. Both the Emperor and Malcador had surely understood that what was happening here today could happen. That they had planned for barely countable years that worse came to worse Malcador could take up this position. To relieve the Emperor of such a massive burden so that he can face the Arch Traitor with his full psychic might.
The Omnissiah walked to the Golden Throne and examined it. His eyes seeing the numerous sigils that meant nothing to him back when he was of flesh. Today that was different. He could see it, thousands of chairs just like this one being used by the Old Ones to channel their psychic might into the Warp in such a way that it made them into Gods.
It was a pitiful era, the War in Heaven. Back then their understanding of what a god was the sheer power that each of them sported. When the Necrontyr approached the Old Ones they had rumored them to be gods, and like the gods of their era the Old Ones declared that it was not the way of things for them to heal the Necrontyr. That it was not natural.
Fools, the lot of them. They did not understand the Motive Force but instead lived in their self-made utopia. Claiming things like the ‘Great Plan’ and ‘Ultimate Order’ while in truth they were the ones to create Chaos itself. Through their arrogance the C’Tan were fashioned, another set of gods that foolishly caused terror and misery wherever they stepped.
Even the Aldari Gods, were built not to serve their people but instead to force them under the control of the Old Ones. To become powerful pawns that would become the equals of the C’Tan who threatened to genocide their existance. Those like Khain and Ceggorrath were never ‘good’ but instead shades of misery where one would kill you outright with the other stabbing you in the back, laughing.
