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A being known by many titles and names stalked alone in a seemingly endless desert, his once radiant form discarded revealing instead a withered old man clad in a black robe. A golden aura still faintly illuminated him but it was a mere spark compared to the raging inferno it had once been. Sand buffeted his skin as sweat poured down his face, awakening long dormant sensations. How long had it been since he felt such discomfort, how long had been since he truly felt like a part of the material universe and not a mere observer?

The being, once known as Emperor as well as myriad of similar titles pushed such ideal thoughts back. No matter how diminished he was now he had achieved his goal, he had avoided his fate to sit upon the golden throne, enduring millennia of agony until the final days. In every other timeline he saw, that was where he laid, getting stronger in many ways, but also far more monstrous. The thought of that "thing" he became in those future, the so-called "god emperor" was enough to make him wretch. His teeth gnashed as he recalled the pain, torture, and willful ignorance fed to that monster. No, he refused that destiny, just as he refused the ones offered to him at Molech, he would find another way.

Instead, this "god emperor" would develop differently, independent of him and his suffering on the golden throne. It would in time form from the beliefs of Khalid and his followers, taking shape and identity from their worship and creeds. Perhaps free from the constant torment of the Throne Emperor it will become something more benevolent, or perhaps it will become something more terrible than even he could conceive. Either way it will be something that will be dealt with when the time arrives. The irony wasn't lost on him, the idea of having to one day confront a warp entity using his form against him was a most bitter thought indeed.

He also wasn't ignorant of the cost of this decision however. For another had to take his place and suffer as he had. The thought of poor Phoebus, the martyred son, suffering for millennia saddened him, but it was just one more sacrifice to win the future for humanity that it sorely deserved. The once Emperor had already made so many sacrifices, destroyed so much that to stop now would be to render it all pointless. So instead he would move on and make Phoebus' torment worth it.

Out in the distance he saw an Oasis and settled down by it, quenching his thirst and taking shade from the heat in this strange and impossible realm he found himself in. He found a set of tarot cards nearby the Oasis, weary of what these cards portained he hesitated for a moment before shuffling them. Divination was what led him his whole life, and it was all he had left to guide him now, even though even his future sight was limited. One by one he looked at the cards, each revealing a small glimpse into the future, or a potential future. He glanced at each one, taking careful note of them:

· A throne was broken into five pieces.

· A green beast grasped a star in its massive gauntlets as a horde of lesser beasts rallied behind it.

· A leviathan, like those of ancient Terran myths, devoured world after world.

· Elvish creatures fighting a hopeless battle in a forest overcome by rot.

· The dead of an entire species rose as one to fight a princess of pleasure and pain.

· A collection of species rallied under one banner to fight as one.

· A great blaze engulfing and burning all that it touches.

· A book of scriptures cut in half by a sword.

· A demonic machine grinding waves of slaves into dust.

· He saw iron shatter iron and steel rust and corrode.

· A forsaken son, born of light turned to darkness leading a horde of madmen and monsters.

· A pied piper leading masses into slavery of vices and temptations.

The Emperor picked up one more card, examined closely. Immediately he rose to his feet, his aura growing as new found urgency and resolution filled his mind. He set out once again towards his goal, keen on finding his companions one day. For, the Sigillite and the Custodes general still lived and searched for him. In time he would gather them and his loyal sons as well others to join in this last, desperate gambit he plotted. As he continued his trekk, a the final tarot card fell to the ground, revealing a host of wrathful angels of death and damnation, descending in from the heavens wreathed in fire and heralding a chariot of fire as bright and furious as the sun….