Trial and Truths, part 4: Vacation.

The Master of Mankind eventually found a hotel of sorts to crash. Mag'ladroth was there as well, laying on the bed. The Emperor stared at the oldest being on the planet.

"You're in the middle of the bed," He said.

"Indeed I am."

"I would like to have part of the bed."

"Sleep around me then, Anatolian."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Oh, certainly."

With a sigh, The Emperor slipped under the covers. Magladroth's humor was strange, but it was fine.

What wasn't fine was the Void Dragon having the Zoomies at 2:38 AM the next day.

*****

After sleeping in until noon, The Emperor visited Cainopolis. The name was humorous to Him- and likely, Cain hadn't wanted to have the city named after him. It reminded him of Alexander- right down to the Imposter Syndrome, actually. Members of the Chaos cults gave Him a wide berth. His Hawaiian shirt ruffled in the wind, sunglasses hiding His Eyes. Mag'ladroth was on His shoulder, humming in approval at the technology. Eventually, The Emperor ended up coming across Father Anthony's church. He knocked a couple of times, and the door was opened.

"Hello my- my Emperor!" Father Anthony exclaimed.

"Hello," The Emperor replied. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Father Anthony looked behind himself, at the filling pews. "I… I was about to give a sermon…"

"May I sit in? I haven't actually had the time to listen to any of the sermons." Father Anthony nodded, and The Emperor sat in the back, and took in the church. It reminded Him of Uriah's place- humble. The thought of the man who had been right about… well, everything, sent a pang of regret through Him. He should have listened. Instead, He'd been so far up His own ass that He didn't listen to literally anyone but Malcador… and even then, only occasionally. Then again, He was pretty sure that making all of the Primarchs male was still a good idea. He sat and listened. Father Anthony began the sermon.

After the hour and a half had passed, the congregation had left, many of them staring at Him in awe. The Emperor stood up, as Father Anthony approached him.

"Good job," The Emperor mused. "I was rather fond of the part where you said that all humans had worth. That seems to be something that has been sorely lacking in the Imperium."

Father Anthony nodded. "There was much strife… and so much corruption. Indeed, sometimes it made me wonder if this was the right path… but I endured, for I knew that those in power could not be what You wanted."

"The problem with organized religion is that it can turn a good cause into a mad grab for power," The Emperor replied. "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"What of you?" Father Anthony blurted, before his eyes widened. He likely thought he'd be smote on the spot.

"Horus' actions speak to my own failings," The Emperor replied sadly. "I thought that I was always in the Right, no matter what I did. I thought that I was infallible. Invincible. Incapable of wrongdoing." He sighed. "My chastisement of Lorgar started the downward spiral. It was Me not telling Horus why I left for Terra after Ullinor that planted the seeds of doubt. Had I told Magnus My plans… He would have likely come to Me in person, and not through a ritual. The Dark Powers played on My Hubris. I am just as fallible."

Father Anthony slowly sat down, not expecting that sort of answer. "This… this is becoming a confessional, isn't it?"

"Indeed. When I started trying to Unify Terra, I started to make some decisions that were morally gray at best. I told Myself that it was for the betterment of Humanity. Eventually, the actions became rushed. Desperate. More and more compromises were made." He looked forlorn. "And My own lack of understanding of what the Fourth Chaos God brought to the Warp led me down a path of militant atheism that was more bloody then any religion before it."

"Atheism? You?"

"I never wanted to be a god. At least, that's what I told Myself as I burned the Last Church on Terra. That's what I told Myself when I chastised Lorgar for writing the Lectitio Divinitatus, which proclaimed Me as such. That's what I told Myself as the cost of My Hubris bound me to the Golden Throne. But I was wrong in My actions. During the first thousand years, I was angry. Angry at everyone except Myself. I blamed everyone but Myself. Finally, what brought Me out of that was when I started to blame Malcador." The Emperor sighed once more. "Then I realized that he couldn't have been to blame. That he had suggested things I had discarded. That led Me to this path. I was… barely able to feel the Materium. When I was on the Throne, I began to feel the powers of Faith flowing through me. This terrified Me."

"Why?"

"Because for the Entirety of My Life, I have had one recurring Nightmare… that I would become the Fourth… or now, the Fifth, God of Chaos… the Chaos God of Order."

That seemed so unlikely that Father Anthony snorted.

"It seems irrational, doesn't it? But…" The Emperor paused. "I never told anyone that. I kept it to Myself. Perhaps that was one of the reasons I lashed out at being worshiped. What I see in My nightmares…" He removed His sunglasses, and Father Anthony saw brown eyes, shaking in fear, "I would become a Thing That Should Not Be. The Eternal Tyrant. What Slaanesh is to the Eldar, I would become to Humanity." He swallowed heavily. "It's why I'm so grateful for Cain. I hadn't realized it, but the Throne of Gold and Death that I sat upon in those nightmares was the Golden Throne, but broken. Dead. I didn't realize it until what you call the Age of Apostasy. When I realized that for the past four thousand years, I'd been force fed an ideology that matched My nightmares… I owe Thor much."

"What… What is the Thing That Should Not Be? Please… show me."

The Emperor sighed, and sent a visage of the nightmare. Himself watching as the Thing that had been Him tore the Galaxy apart. Himself being unable to stop it. Finally, Him fighting as a human, upon a field, led by a Commissar, against the forces of the Eternal Tyrant, unwilling to return, out of shame for what He had done. But then… Anthony noticed something.

"It ends here," he realized.

"What?" The Emperor asked.

"That field… that's here! On this planet! That battle? That last Commissar? That's Cain!"

The Emperor paused. "You're right…" he realized. "It seems that even in My worst nightmares… there's one with common sense… but I can't help shake the thought…"

"You are no longer bound to the Throne, My Lord," Father Anthony pointed out. "That future seems unlikely."

"But what if it happens?"

"Then fight it. Fight with us against that Monster."

"...That… wasn't something I'd considered…" The Emperor mused. "Once more, I miss the obvious solution…" He chuckled. "Thank you."

"Y-you're welcome, My Lord. Was there anything else?"

"I don't know how to be a parent."

*****

Mag'ladroth had left after the Confession had begun. The Emperor found him sunning himself.

"Did you get what you wanted?" The C'Tan inquired.

"I did. Are you nibbling the star?"

"To an extent, yes. This star's photons have a refined taste."

"Just don't shrink it," The Emperor requested.

"Fine, fine… I'll find an O-class at some point and scarf enough of it down to have a planet in the habitable zone…"

"Thank you." The Emperor then picked up the Star God, and set it on His shoulder. "So… brunch?"

"Do pancakes still exist?"

"Only one way to find out!"

*****

Jonathan was a simple restaurant owner. His father had owned the restaurant during the reign of the previous governors, but had, thankfully, slid beneath their notice. This had allowed the place to survive, albeit barely. After the Uprising, he had expanded. It was still not super popular.

"YES! Pancakes!"

Aaaaaaaand now it hosted someone that any restaurant owner from any world would literally kill for. Jonathan was still a member of the Imperial Creed, so he was trying very, very hard not to kneel.

"W-welcome to Jon's Flapjacks…" he stammered.

"Is there a table available?"

Thankfully, there was one. Jon wordlessly pointed to it, and the GOD-EMPEROR sat down, and pulled up a menu. His… pet? Friend? Ally? Whatever was reading over His shoulder as well. One of the waitresses eventually went to take His order. He realized with a jolt she was a Slaanesh worshiper. Shit.

*****

"Welcome. Can I take your order?" The Emperor looked up at the waitress, with Slaanesh's claim to her soul.

"Yes… recaf, first. I'll take mine with some milk and cream. Mag'ladroth?"

"Black as a black hole," the dragon requested.

"Very well. Are you ready to order?"

The Emperor ordered a few things as appetizers, but also ordered about ten orders of bacon.

"You sure about that?" The waitress asked.

"Ask your patron. I've beaten her in bacon-eating," The Emperor replied, smirking.

"Impossible."

"There's excess, and then there's My love for one of the greatest foods ever created," The Emperor promised her, as she went back to the kitchen to place His order. The Emperor just watched as the people went about their day- some staring at Him in awe- others in fear. "I do autographs!" he called, summoning another golden pen. Oh sure, these would likely be worth an entire planet off-world, but eh, whatever. He started signing people's shirts, as Mag'ladroth giggled in the background. After He had finished the signing spree, the waitress came over with the bacon. He took one bite, and then set the piece down.

"Is it not to your liking?" she asked.

"I have to make a call." The Emperor closed His eyes, and Reality pulsed, twisted, and shivered. Finally, out of a portal, a female Eldar stepped through.

"Anathema," the woman spat.

"Slaanesh," The Emperor replied. The waitress bowed.

"So you have awoken…"

"Yes yes, and I imagine you're wondering why I called for your attention." He held up a plate.

The Prince of Pleasure sat down, and took a bite of the bacon. "...Damn it all, the chef of this is one of yours," she growled. "This is truly fantastic." The waitress fainted dead away.

"You didn't take her soul, right?"

"No. No, I did not. And I sense Your power through the area. A seal?"

"Actually I was signing autographs. I figured that since this place is poisoning you, it's a place of truce."

"You call it poisoning. I call it refreshing," Slaanesh pointed out.

"The mere fact you aren't trying to turn it into a Daemon World shows how much it affects you," The Emperor chuckled.

"Are you two done arguing like an old married couple?" Mag'ladroth deadpanned, causing The Emperor to spit His recaf at She Who Thirsts.

"...Good recaf. You paying?"

"Yeah. I'm on vacation. And I'm assuming all you'd offer is Daemonhood."

"A fair point," the Doom of the Eldar mused. "I'll take my recaf with so much cream and sugar that it would barely qualify as such," she requested, using her power to wake the waitress, who took the order, before racing off. Slaanesh went back to the bacon. "Do they have enough for a rematch?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Pity. I do not like having someone beat me in excess, least of all You."

"Khrone came in third. Would you rather he'd have won?"

"...Correction, least of all him, then You. I assume the agreement still holds?"

"Oh of course," The Emperor promised. "Though do talk to Emili about your other ideas."

Slaanesh blushed a little.

"I doubt anyone would say no to a harem," Mag'ladroth chuckled. "Even if you're still a virgin."

"How did you-" Slaanesh began, before closing her mouth.

"Simple guessing," The C'Tan replied, chugging his recaf.

"How do you even guess that?!"

"I assume that the Eldar never really mastered the confident approach to dating," the Star God replied. "And if they're still blushing messes when asking their crushes out…"

"Then so am I," Slaanesh finished, harrumphing.

"Exactly."

*****

Ciaphas figured that his Bloodward having a seizure was a bad sign, so he decided to go out and see what caused that.

*****

Slaanesh returned to the immaterium after brunch- probably to the relief of any psyker on the planet- though she did go visit the Handmaidens to tell them 'good job'. The Emperor imagined that the experience was not unlike Father Anthony's own. He then decided to go see if any arcades were around- if they still existed, that was. Thankfully, there was. After paying for the meal, and with a tip (He'd had Slaanesh make a crystal for her servant, while He'd created a chunk of gold), He entered the arcade. A Tzeenchian was running the place.

"No sorcery allowed," The owner told Him.

"Using it ruins the fun," The Emperor promised. "And Mag'ladroth? The same applies."

"See your previous statement. Do they have a claw machine?"

*****

After a good couple of hours at the arcade, The Emperor walked out, using His abilities to carry His prizes. That life-sized stuffed sheep was definitely going to be a wonderful addition to His bedchambers. It was at this time that he bumped into a young lady. She looked like a teenager.

"Why hello there," He said. "Who're you?"

"I'm Zerayah," the girl replied.

"It's nice to meet you, Zerayah," The Emperor replied.

"Do you hate mutants?"

The Emperor paused. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I am one," the girl replied. "And… well…"

"There's a difference between those with a genome changed by exposure to time, radiation, or even Xonos or Chaos, versus a mutant who has been mutated through willing service to the Dark Powers," The Emperor replied sincerely. "And from what I've seen, none of the cults here would mutate someone like that."

"Zera?! Where are-" Ciaphas came over, to see The Emperor. The Master of Mankind put down his life-sized sheep.

"He seems nice, Daddy."

"Younger than she looks?" The Emperor guessed.

"It's… a long story," Cain admitted.

"I'm willing to hear it."

*****

About four minutes later, The Emperor was fuming. "That is NOT the type of experiment Malcador would have approved, and even so…" He looked at the child. "Brainwashing? Is raising with love and kindness because 'like it or not, that's now your child since you made it' not a thing anymore!?" He complained.

"So… you're fine…"

"With her? Absolutely. Personally, I applaud you for not falling to a temptation that I almost certainly would have," The Emperor replied.

"It was-"

"Again, cut the Imposter Syndrome. You just saw a child in need of love and a parent, and upon hearing of her gifts, you also decided that no one else would likely be able to raise her to allow her to do as she wished, not what any guardian wished," The Emperor replied, sipping the sugary drink He'd gotten from a nearby cafe.

"I- I apologize…"

"And for the record, I am 'seeing the real you'- specifically, the real you that you refuse to see. You're a good man, Ciaphas. I would have done well to have made you an advisor were you alive during the Unification Wars."

"M-me?"

"You have common sense, and actual morals. Either of those is rare in this galaxy. To have both? Almost unheard of, unfortunately."

"T-thank you…"

The Emperor then summoned a sticky note, and wrote something on it, before it vanished. "There. One sticky note containing her information and marking her as an official abhuman species."

Cain blinked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"What does abhuman mean?"

"That means that by the laws of the Imperium, you're not a mutant. I figured it would help, though since you are technically in rebellion… eh, I'll probably just make you the legal governor of the entire sector if I need to."

"Pardon?"

"That too. Remember, I'm the motherfucking Emperor," The Emperor chuckled. "Oh, and by the way… if you see a shy Eldar offering you a heart-shaped box of chocolates, that's probably My fault."

"Eh?"

"Ask your wife about it," The Emperor replied, sipping His drink.

*****

Ciaphas returned to his bedchambers, confused. What did The Emperor mean by that? With a sigh, he decided to get answers. "Emili?" he called. Reality contorted and twisted, and Emili appeared.

"What is it, my love?"

"He on Terra said that I may be seeing, and I quote, 'a shy Eldar offering me a heart-shaped box of chocolates', and that you'd know something about that?"

Emili was just dead silent.

"Emili?" Cain asked, slightly concerned. The daemon still said nothing, her jaw hanging on the floor.