Perry hadn't caught on or understood what it was they were doing. And, he figured, that was likely for the best. It meant he was able to test him as much as he wanted, without his main subject realizing what was going on, which garnered the best results. Cegorach's sudden arrival hadn't been unexpected. He'd had dealings and exchanges with the Aeldari Trickster God before and Cegorach had been strangely pleasant and easy to talk to once he figured out the motive and the reasoning behind the madness. And, besides, Cegorach wouldn't have been able to enter the ship at all without his approval. He was here to see, for himself, the anomaly that was Perry Anatinus, the rolling storm of power that gestated within a once-ordinary human being. They conversed psychically throughout the game, projecting their thoughts through and out the warp to ensure that none on board, including Perry himself, were not privy to their shared opinions.
The game itself, while incredibly enjoyable, especially when he used to play it with his old friends and allies - Malcador, Ollanius, Erda, Astarte, and Constantin – had been little more than a test for Perry. The test itself was simply to ascertain how the Guardsman analyzed differing scenarios, situations, conditions, and moral dilemmas and, most importantly, how he came up with solutions for them. This was crucial, because Perry was on the path to exponential – possibly even infinite growth – and someone had to guide and mentor him properly so that he did not become a power-hungry despot, like so many other good men who'd received and had been corrupted by power. Dungeons and Daemons was perfect, then, due to its very nature; at a base level, the game was driven entirely by choices and the consequences of those choices, long term and short term.
And he'd rather not have another god-like entity running around if that entity wasn't in his pocket; hence, the game.
It was the same game he and Malcador played to determine which of his sons would turn traitor and which of them would stay loyal.
It wasn't perfect. But, if played correctly and the characters and circumstances were properly simulated, and guided by Psychic Divination, then the game of Dungeons and Daemons became a most potent tool of looking into the future, capable of determining a great many happenings that hadn't happened just yet, variables he otherwise would not have seen in a simple vision or a prophecy.
The guardsman himself was now stronger than most Astartes, he noted, perhaps even on the level of the Custodes themselves, if Perry exerted himself against them in a contest of strength – not that he would, but there were very few Astartes, off the top of his head, who could offer the guardsman a proper challenge now. Mentoring Perry personally wouldn't work. The guardsman's power thrived off of conflict, growing in response to the danger he faced and the tribulations and trials he conquered. Honestly, at this point, he was no longer entirely certain what the source of the guardsman's peculiar power was; some form of Enuncia was still at the top of the list of possibilities, but there wasn't any real way to prove that, given Perry's own ignorance of such matters.
Regardless, he would guide and mentor Perry. And, when the time was right, he would raise the guardsman up to become a beacon of light and hope for his Imperium. Perhaps, even, give him command of a large detachment of Astartes and Custodes and send him on a crusade that would see the conquest of a thousand stars in the name of mankind. Or he'd just be another failed champion in a very long list of failed champions. Only time will tell.
But that would be a long time from now.
Their little game showed that, while Perry undeniably had a good heart, he wasn't ready to lead anyone or to become a symbol of anything. Though, amusingly, he'd begun gathering his own retinue, a fellow guardsman and a psychic child who'd been plucked from her destiny and set on an entirely new path. Exciting. What awesome adventures awaited them. He wished he could join them, but he couldn't. Merely projecting himself was difficult enough. That battle against Athulhum had taken its toll and now, merely maintaining the guise he wore now was a challenge in itself. Oh well, he could always keep watch, nudging things here and there and, perhaps, offering a hand when the need was dire, though he hoped it'd never have to come to that.
One thing he noted was that Perry was softhearted, at least, towards his fellow humans. He did not consider traitors and heretics to be humans at all, which made things easier. He was loyal and obedient and did not question those above him – an admirable trait, but that also meant he could be easily tricked, depending on the circumstances. But, Perry had a good head on his shoulders and was mostly capable of making sound decisions – not necessarily correct, but definitely sound and understandable. Their game also displayed a weakness that Cegorach quickly noted.
He has no fear of death. Not because he's willing to die, but because he gives no value to his own life, other than what value you've given it. This will be problematic for you in the future, no? A Champion who knows not his importance is doomed.
I know. I noticed.
He'll sacrifice himself for whatever vaguely noble reason he could think of. Admirable, but not something you'd want in a champion, yes?
I know. I'll work on that. There were many things he needed to work on. But Perry's self-sacrifice, while admirable, needed to be tempered - somewhat.
Ordinarily, such a thing was not unwelcome. The opposite was, in fact, true. It was better for mankind, as a whole, to have soldiers who were willing to lay down their lives in the fight against the darkness, against all the enemies who'd see mankind burn and fall into the endless abyss. But it became problematic when men and women of prophecy, the rare few who were born gifted, died simply because they valued the idea of dying for humanity more than the idea of living for it. And, ultimately, he wanted humanity to prosper. Sacrifice was a necessity, yes, but charging headfirst into enemy machine gun fire when it wasn't necessary was just stupidity, which was how Perry awakened his gifts to begin with, but that was besides the point.
"Was I supposed to just let that child die?" Perry asked, shrugging after he sacrificed his character to save a child from a burning building. And, in doing so, allowed the main villain to escape and recuperate. Of course, it was not a real character – none of the characters and scenarios they used for this session of the game in particular had been simulated from any living person or creature. What Perry should've done was sacrifice the child and stop the villain right then and there. One life in exchange for many.
"You could've done just that, my lord." Duncan, Perry's acolyte of sorts, answered him. Honestly, he was worried that Perry would isolate himself from his fellow humans, as most transhumans were keen on doing, but it seemed his fears had been for naught. "Her life carried no weight or meaning in the grand scheme of things. Yours did."
"There had to be some other way." But there wasn't. The others were held up in the fighting that went on all around them – not to mention the dragon flying overhead. Perry seemed troubled by the man's answer, until Katarinya, the little ball of energy and mischief that she was, spoke.
"The bad guy got away!" She said and everyone at the table agreed with her.
"She died anyway," Khars added, pointing out the fact that he hadn't actually succeeded in his attempt to save the little girl and, in fact, only succeeded in killing himself and her, which meant he sacrificed himself for nothing at all. And that was the ultimate lesson here, something he hoped Perry would learn and take to heart. But there was no way of knowing what went through the guardsman's head; his mind shield was impenetrable, making him immune to just about every form of telepathic malice, which also made him immune to the whispers of the four tumors in the Immaterium. "But, your attempt was admirable, even if it was misguided. My oiled abs quiver at the sight of such a noble death."
"Stop talking. You're on time out." Garahm snapped at Khars, who huffed, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked away, while flexing and contracting his abdominal muscles, which caused both Whamuu and Eshidisi to begin doing the same thing, much to Garahm's horror.
Ah, right, that was why he sent these three away to form an Aquilon Shield Company. They were awesome warriors, but also total weirdos, getting way too much into the characters they'd forged for an infiltration mission that required them to take on the guise of fabulous models. They succeeded, of course, but they never learned to let go of the personas they'd created. It had been Khars, Whamuu, and Eshidisi who began the peculiar practice of patrolling the Imperial Palace in nothing but their helmets and loincloths, a practice that, unfortunately, many other younger Custodians started following.
And soon enough, the Imperial Palace was filled with scantily-clad Custodians, who checked themselves out on every reflective surface and lathered themselves in copious amounts of body oil, which caused their skin to become reflective, which then caused the Custodians to admire their own bodies off of their reflections on the skin of their fellows.
It was a nightmare. And the worst part was that he couldn't move or say anything to get them to stop. Only very few people ever questioned why the Imperial Palace ordered so much body oil. To be entirely fair, he'd designed the Custodians to be the paragons of beauty; each of them, after all, was a priceless work of art that took hundreds of artisans to craft. So, beauty was expected. But Khars, Whamuu, and Eshidisi simply dialed it up to eleven and made it weird for everyone.
That said, these three made the perfect companions for Perry, due to their rather... unique personalities. Their job was to make Perry comfortable and far less guarded. It was another experiment on his part, truth be told, to see if Perry's mental barriers responded to external stimuli or if it was simply there and there forever.
"Knowing what you do now," He began, turning his full attention to Perry. "What would you have done differently if you could go back in time?"
Perry looked down at the table for a moment, deep in concentration. "I'd do the same thing, my lord."
He could not help but frown at the answer. Beside him, Cegorach cackled, his laughter echoing out into the Immaterium and attracting hordes of Daemons towards their ship, which he simply burned away with a blast of his own psychic energy. Dumb clown. He still hadn't forgiven him for that incident with the Harlequins, even if he understood its importance. "Why is that, Perry?"
"I trust my comrades. I know they'll succeed, even without me. I trust them." The guardsman answered, shrugging and smiling. Disappointing. Naive. Foolish. Leaving things in the hands of others was exactly how everything starts failing, especially when the others were weaker than himself. "And, honestly, if I can't trust my comrades, my brothers and sisters, then what's the point of all this?"
"What do you mean, my lord?" Duncan asked.
"Well, it's kind of like in real life, in a way." Perry shrugged again. "I trust the Imperial Guard, the Adeptus Astartes, the Imperial Navy, the Mechanicus... I trust all of those who are loyal to the Imperium; so that, even if I died and die I shall – someday, hopefully not soon – I trust that they'd be the ones to carry on the great fight against all the enemies of mankind in my stead. And, who knows, perhaps, soon enough, there will be a generation of people who wouldn't have to fight at all. I mean, isn't that what we're fighting for?"
"But, if I can't trust my fellows to do the same as I do, then what am I fighting for?"
Huh... Joshua felt something tugging at the core of his being. That little speech... it reminded him of who he used to be, the ideals he'd once believed in. What happened to him? He frowned and stood up. "You must excuse me."
AN: Decided to upload early just to wrap up this neat little arc.