When he opens his eyes, he knows that he is no longer Ash Spitzam. He knows that everything he once was, once believed, and once knew as indomitable fact had all been stripped away from him, melted down, and reforged into something new. Something that hasn't walked the galaxy for ten millennia. He raises his new gleaming golden eyes and finds himself gazing up into the eyeless, grinning skull of the Master of Mankind. He stands before the Golden Throne itself and stares into the face of the Emperor.
Once, when he was still Ash, he would have fallen down onto his face in abject worship of this holy being once his strong but still mortal heart would have failed, and his soul would have been stripped from his body just for looking into endless depths of those empty sockets. Once, but not now. Now, he knows the truth. He knows the Imperial Truth is nothing but a lie. A lie that this man before him fought to stamp out. A lie that has consumed mankind and cast them into a living hell. He knows the Emperor is not a god. He knows that he never wanted to be a god. He knows that the Emperor's dream was for mankind to rule the stars, think without the shackles of religion holding them back, and thrive. He knows that the Imperium, as he wished it, died ten thousand years ago, and now the Emperor is the rotting heart at the center of a corpse empire. He also knows that the Master of Mankind is still fighting to defend his people, even though the worst enemy of mankind is mankind.
He bows his head to the man on the throne who has called him up from mortality and has reshaped him. The man once known as Ash Spitzam knows without looking that his body has been purged of mortal weaknesses and that he is now clad in black auramite power armour built over ten thousand years before by the Emperor himself, using technology of alien organs so advanced that it makes anything used by the Imperium today look like a child's toy. It is also imbued with the darkness that the Emperor had to shed after he claimed the flames of Chaos from the Warp itself to strengthen his already formidable powers. This ancient armour is called the Dreadlock. And it can only be worn by one who holds the golden flames of the Emperor within a soul reforged to be incorruptible, invincible, and unweaving within the soul of the one who would wear the mantle of the Emperor's Avatar and the title of Lord Eversight.
He is not the savior of this dead Imperium. That duty belongs to another who still sleeps on one of the last bastions of hope within this rotten empire. Lord Eversight is the Wraith of the Emperor given form. He has one purpose: to crush the enemies of humanity wherever they may hide with the wisdom, insight, authority, power, and fury of the Emperor. He needs no warrant and no permission to execute this duty how he sees fit. No checks and no balances. He looks into the eyes of his master for a moment longer before turning away and walking down the steps leading from the Golden Throne.
The entire host of the Adeptus Custodes kneels on stairs and at the foot of the throne with heads bowed as he descends. No member of the Ten Thousand has even bent the knee to anyone except the Emperor in their entire existence. This alone marks the authority of Lord Eversight. Kneeling before the final step, holding out the final piece of the Dreadlock, the helm shaped into the Emperor's skull-faced visage known as the Final Sight is Captain-General Trajann Valoris, the 17th Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes, and the man believed the be the single deadliest warrior in the Imperium. He looks up to meet Lord Eversight's gleaming golden eyes and there are tears in his own. He was among those who had retrieved him from Sacrengus Reach on the telepathic command of his master. It was not a dream or a sign such as had been the Master of Mankind's only form of communication since he was placed on the Golden Throne. It was a direct command to his Captain-General. The Custodes do not consider the Emperor divine. They know his truth. But that had been tantamount to a religious experience for Trajann Valoris. That is also when he learned of Project Eversight, which was a secret that only two other individuals ever knew of: Malcador the Sigillite and the First Captain-General Constantin Valdor. It took a psychoactive cipher key given by the Emperor to open the door to the chamber hidden under the throne. That is where they took Ash upon his return to Terra. That is where he has spent the last seven years being filled with the power of the Master of Mankind, where he emerged as the second most powerful psyker in existence.
"My Lord Eversight," says Trajann in a voice that trembles with reverence, "We await your orders."
Eversight takes the Final Sight and replies in a voice that is both physical and telepathic, "I require one companion, and it cannot be you, Trajann. Your duties lie on Terra for now, but soon, the Ten Thousand will be called upon by one who shall return to avenge the last ten thousand years of horrors wrought upon the citizens of this Imperium. Until then, stay vigilant. After today, none of you will speak my name unless I come to you. Allow me the services of your second, Dalat Desh."
"Dalat," says Trajann in a commanding voice, "Present yourself."
Dalat Desh steps from the ranks to their right and comes to kneel at his commander's side. Like Lord Eversight, he is dark-skinned. His white hair is shaved, whereas Eversight has night black dreadlocs streaked with gold. All of the Custodes are taller than Eversight who kept his 6'6 stature.
"I live to serve, Lord Eversight," says Dalat with head bowed.
"As do I, Dalat," says Lord Eversight, looking into the glowing red eyes of the Final Sight, "He sends us to wars far and near. We shall bring wraith to the enemies of mankind. No matter what form they take or what realm they hide within. And when the time comes, we shall strike at the heart of Chaos itself."
He places the Final Sight on his head at it seals in place. Behind him, a cape of black and gold descends, flowing as if blowing in the wind. He steps down, and Dalat rises, putting on his own helm as he follows. The other Custodes remain kneeling until, with a thunderclap, Lord Eversight and his companion vanish.
