Chapter 10.5 – The Only Way Out

Alone.

The Emperor sat in the Throne Room in the Imperial Palace on Macragge, alone.

Outside, the night sky was a painted black, flecked with the starlight of distant suns. So many worlds. And not a single one of them could replace Terra.

The Emperor didn't need to sleep, his enhanced existence beyond such trivial things. In his mind he did wish he could dream though, to switch off the world and rest peacefully... It had been eons since he had a moment of true peace, as fleeting as it might be.

The Emperor watched as the stars slowly drifted across the sky outside the huge windows. Hours passed by as the dots of light wandered their way across the glass. Roboute had seen that the windows were restored within a day, with the usual efficiency of the Ultramar way. The Emperor had not asked for it. Guilliman had just done it. It was… instinct for him. To repair the damage to the icon of government.

The Emperor chuckled to himself. Instinct. Roboute, the instinctive builder of States, the instinct to construct the trappings of a nation, much like the Imperial Palace. The Emperor did not need a Palace. It was nice, but not necessary. As with all things like the Funeral for Horus, the planned Triumph at Ullanor, the Welcome to Ultramar. This was for them. The Emperor just wanted to see his work done. He needed a Laboratory, a Factory, a Psychic Amplifier, more than a Palace.

But he needed loyal sons more than that.

Looking into the future, he could already see the probabilities aligning. Roboute would turn against him. At this point, it was almost inevitable if he continued down this current path.

Others would stand with him. The Emperor could see the forces aligning. Roboute Guilliman, Osiris and Fulgrim, all defying their Father in the name of justice for Imperium Secundus.

He could also see those sons who would stay loyal, those that would obey his commands regardless of how cruel and necessary they might be. Leman Russ, Ferrus Manus, Alpharius and Mortarion. They would win of course, Roboute's Rebellion would be crushed without much effort. None could withstand the Emperor's will.

But then of the 20 generals the Emperor had created, the Master of Mankind would be reduced to 4, meanwhile the 6 wayward sons would laugh as Imperium Secundus tore itself apart.

The Emperor could forestall the rebellion by having Alpharius assassinate Roboute, but in doing so he risked the small chance Alpharius might choose that moment to have a fit of moral panic and side with Guilliman instead.

And thus ever it came down to that. Choice.

Many believed the Emperor's vision to be perfect, that his foresight could predict everything. In theory he could. In practice, he could only see probabilities. Whilst the Chaos Gods and other factors could influence those probabilities, much like himself, the final deciding factor came down to the one thing no one could control.

Free Will. Choice.

Every living being had choice. Choice to harm or heal. Choice to fight or flee. Choice to act or to wait. Choice to do the right thing or the wrong thing.

Some actions could be predicted. If a man walks down a road for 200 days, the chance he will do so again on the 201st is a safe bet. But what if he decides, on a fit of whimsy, to take another path. Then any plans surrounding his walking down that road become meaningless. The 'Great Angel' had been loyal to a fault. Until he wasn't. Until the day, for some reason, he walked a different path.

The Emperor had been proud of the Ninth. Of all of his creations, the Ninth had been the most pleasing. He was everything the Emperor had hoped. Obedient. Effective. Humble. Creative. Inspiring. It was disappointing it had turned out that way.

Despite this, the possibility that Roboute would not rebel was still there, but vanishingly small. He could gamble on the hope everything would hold together, as unlikely as that would be.

The problem was the alternatives were worse. Without Imperium Secundus and the suppression of emotion to the Five, his ability to hold back the flood of warp expansion was nearly impossible. Reality would fall into the immaterium and everything would be over. The raw psyche of the human species would see the Warp Rift around Terra expand to encompass the entire galaxy and beyond.

Imperium Secundus, even with only 4 Legions, could still win back the rest of the galaxy. Even against the 6 rogue Primarchs it was still possible. But the chances of victory were slim, and more corners would need to be cut to achieve it.

It was always possible to roll 6 on a 6 sided die, but few serious gamblers would take that bet. One slight error, one misstep, and that small chance would vanish as well, and that 1 in 6 would become 1 in 100, or 1 in 1,000, or 1 in 1,000,000. And he was not idly gambling for credits, this was the fate of the entire species. He couldn't afford to make thoughtless bets anymore.

"Sons…" muttered the Emperor, "Why didn't they just listen to me…"

"This is the problem with free will, isn't it?"

The Emperor looked up. The hall was empty. But there was a presence.

"Why are you here?" asked the Emperor, disapprovingly.

"Because we must talk, Master of Lightning," said Veilwalker, emerging from the shadows.

"I am not in the mood," growled the Master of Mankind.

"And I do not want the galaxy to burn in the fires of Chaos," replied Veilwalker, removing her mask once more, "But here we are. We don't always get what we want."

"Don't I know it…" rumbled the Emperor.

The Harlequin reached the foot of the Emperor's throne, sitting down and looking up at the being sat atop. She seemed so small compared with the golden giant, like a child listening to a grandparent's tales.

"You're seeing it now, aren't you?" she asked, "Your choices are another internal conflict, or doom reality by doing nothing."

"Another conflict does not concern me."

"But it adds more risk, doesn't it?" prodded Veilwalker, "Every time you roll the die, you come closer to losing your bet."

"Do Aeldari use dice?" asked the Master of Mankind, vague curiosity cutting through his depressive malaise.

"Every culture has some form of gambling," replied Veilwalker, "Be it numbers, letters or some other symbol it isn't difficult for most species to create a chance cube. More unusual are the ones that don't. We do share a lot of commonalities, our people."

"Both doomed for a slow death," snarled the Emperor, morosely, "Both feeding the monsters of the warp."

"Yes," said Veilwalker simply, "But perhaps our shared doom is a chance for us to do something different. To work together, for once."

"You really are pushing for this outcome, aren't you?" said the Emperor with a raised eyebrow.

"We don't have a choice," answered Veilwalker, tilting her head, "Why do you think Eldrad and I have remained here for so long on your world? We aren't here for the fun of it. The alliance you agreed with Eldrad is meaningless. It won't save either of us. If your species falls entirely to Chaos there will not be a safe world in the galaxy for us. Your sons will bring doom to us eventually, if not the other servants of the Five."

"Seems I will need to have words with Eldrad…" growled the Master of Mankind.

"We both know that would be a waste of effort," sighed Veilwalker, "You know the primordial annihilators hold significant power and influence. Winning the war in the materium is meaningless if the immaterium is not secured."

"But who will lead the Imperium Secundus if I do as you propose?"

Veilwalker shrugged.

"Trust in your sons. Trust in your people."

The Emperor snorted derisively.

"The Imperium was meant to be ruled by humanity, not in the weapons I made. And none of the mortals have my vision."

"Your sons are human. At least as much as you are," responded Veilwalker, "Your lack of faith in them cost you the last battle."

"Given what happened with Magnus I think my lack of faith was well place," snapped the Master of Mankind.

"Sometimes a child needs to touch the fire and be burned, rather than be forever kept away from flames until they discover an ignition source and burn down the house," retorted Veilwalker, "And your sons are all different. The have all walked different paths, you cannot blame one for the sins of another."

"The Fire is what concerns me," frowned the Emperor, "I did tell them all not to engage with the warp, not to engage in idle worship."

"You also gifted your son the power to undo your work," pointed out Veilwaker, "No other could have done what he did. None will be able to wield that kind of power again for a long time. Such power, much like your own, needs wisdom and experience to used to greatest effect. When your kind achieves such power again, it will have millennia of experience to temper their actions."

"Are you calling me and my works too young?" chuckled the Emperor, "Few have accused me of that."

"We are all young," said Veilwalker with a nod, "Few remember the War in Heaven. A different kind of horror, but the horror of war none the less. When the horror slips from living memory, we make the same old mistakes, over and over again."

"Were you there? During that time?"

Veilwalker simply smiled.

"To combat the Pantheon of Annihilators, there needs to be a protector. A being of equivalent power to balance out the equation. A God to fight against Gods."

"Cegorach is not enough?" smirked the Master of Mankind maliciously.

"We both know for all the Laughing God's powers… he cannot face the Pantheon alone," sighed Veilwalker, "It was partly our fault. We did not empower our protectors enough. Even now our kin have not flocked united to the Laughing God's court. Another joke, he appreciates."

"And so, you turn to me."

"What choice do we have?"

The Emperor frowned. For a long moment he simply stared at Veilwalker, silent.

"It is alright to be afraid," she whispered.

"I am not afraid," growled the Emperor.

"Of course you are. What we are asking is for you to give up your individuality. Even the Laughing God does not do this thing lightly."

"How do we know this will not just create another Dark King or one as the Fifth?"

"As you know nothing is certain," chided Veilwalker, "But the Laughing God possesses forgotten knowledge that will focus the process. In the old days many Gods were forged by the Aeldari, including the Laughing God. He is not Vaul, but he does keep many secrets long lost. Between our peoples the psychic resonance will be more than enough to force a stalemate in the immaterium."

"And together we will save the souls of Humanity and the Aeldari."

"That is the hope," sighed Veilwalker.

"Do we know what form this being might take?"

"The Laughing God brings with him Mirth and Trickery," responded Veilwalker, "The unborn brings Death, but also Life. You will bring raw Power and Order. Combined, it will be guided through the process to become the God of Hope. Hope of happier times and treasured memories. Hope for a better future and success. Hope for a new generation and peace. Hope that from an ending, a new beginning shall spring."

"Hope…" murmured the Emperor, "Hope…"

"Would it be such a bad thing?"

The Emperor shook his head.

"Hope is good. I tried a similar path once long ago… unfortunately it did not turn out well. My own people had me executed in a very public fashion, but the principle was sound. I would have tried it again but my plans changed."

"You did not have us to aid you," smiled Veilwalker, "It is hard to do such things alone."

"True..." admitted the Emperor, "And circumstances were different. We did not have the dire circumstances we have now. Every plan I have ever formulated has been of my own design. Ever have I sought to bring the powers of the warp to heel on my own. Had they worked, I would have been validated in my beliefs. But this way has cost me many allies and even my homeworld. Malcador himself sent me a messenger bearing the truth that this course of action will not work. It is obvious that a change in strategy is required."

"Many Aeldari have never seen our homeworld…" whispered Veilwalker, "It is a wound so deep our kind don't even feel it anymore. Many don't even ask what its name was, or where it was…"

"You had a homeworld?" asked the Master of Mankind with some curiosity, "I assumed you were artificially created."

"There was a world where our ancestors first drew breath, even if we were artificially created" retorted Veilwalker, bit more energy and humour entering her tone, "Or did the Mon Keigh think we suddenly appeared across the galaxy all at once, springing up from the ground like plants?"

"It could have been possible…"

"You are silly," laughed Veilwalker, reaching for her mask, "This why the Laughing God likes your kind. You can be stuffy and stolid, but also so absurd."

"Regardless… I see now this is the only choice we have," concluded the Emperor, "To battle the forces of Chaos, we must forge a new God, one who can protect our peoples."

"A God of Hope."

"And the choice alone falls to me. How far am I willing to go to protect my species and defeat Chaos. Am I willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to achieve the goals I set for myself. How far… must I go… for victory."