Dreamweaver.
Savior's Sanctum.
Eden was wrapped in a fluffy robe, bleary-eyed, speaking into the audio receiver a handmaid held out to him.
This was one of his post-wake tasks: addressing the brave Imperial citizens aboard the Redemption-113 pilgrim ship.
Giving them encouragement.
He never missed a chance to display both majesty and mercy. It was a necessary measure for maintaining rule.
Encouragement, and deterrence.
"The Savior is omniscient and omnipotent, watching over the Imperium's citizens.
Each and every one of you, everything you do, lies within His gaze. No blasphemy and no sin can remain hidden. It will be exposed…"
That was what Ecclesiarchy priests often told people in their sermons.
Sin and betrayal would be punished, while loyalty would be rewarded with honor.
People believed the Savior, the Emperor of the Imperium, was never truly distant, always watching them.
Relying on the Machine God's psychic network, plus an enormous, dense lattice of departments and an intelligence system, Eden monitored conditions across Imperial space as thoroughly as possible.
As for when to project majesty or mercy outward, that was handled by the internal affairs apparatus.
A vast institution.
Working with other departments, they monitored and gathered everything needed, then judged whether the information should be escalated.
If the request passed review, the Savior would deliver his will to the local region in any of several forms.
A document, an audio broadcast, a virtual projection, or in rare cases, his personal arrival.
"…The Imperium's light shines eternal. The Throne shall guide your course," Eden finished his final line, then yawned again.
The Imperium was too vast. He could not appear everywhere at once without paying an enormous price.
So except on truly critical occasions, the Savior did not need to show himself in person.
At most, a virtual projection handled it.
The Machine God's database held massive amounts of Savior visual data, enough to generate convincing projections tailored to any needed setting.
In simple terms: it was like an AI digital avatar, to the point he did not even need to speak. The database already contained vast libraries of recordings and set phrases.
Only occasionally did he need to record a few lines to refresh the archive.
The effect was excellent. His image could appear in multiple regions simultaneously, creating the illusion that the Savior was everywhere.
That only heightened the mystique.
Even now, his image was being shown in more than ten different places across Imperial territory.
And in each venue, the image looked different, adjusted to local customs and the audience.
That naturally boosted goodwill.
For example, when he wanted to show mercy and encourage brave pilgrims aboard a ship, the projection became gentler, more overtly sacred in a religious sense.
In short, once Eden built the governance system, he could lie in bed within the Sanctum and still monitor the Imperium, and impose his will on any region.
After the Emperor realized that, the old man practically drooled with envy, muttering about how he never had such conditions back then.
That immortal being felt like an aging elder.
Back then, the Emperor had been trapped in a dilemma. The Imperium's scientific system had not yet been established and could not function without his direct oversight.
Administration and military structures were riddled with problems, and the Primarch "sons" were far from harmonious.
Meanwhile, Chaos pressed in, and time waited for no one.
The Emperor had planned to loosen his grip temporarily, letting Malcador and Horus hold things together while he devoted himself fully to the Webway project, trying to buy time.
But the Webway research failed before it succeeded, and the Imperium's governance system collapsed first.
And that, in turn, put the Emperor on the Golden Throne.
Now, by contrast, the Savior's administration, research, and military were all steady. He held supreme authority, but in daily life he could function as a figurehead.
Departments and systems interlocked into a single machine, continuously driving Imperial development forward.
Of course the Emperor envied that.
Eden recalled a conversation not long ago.
The Emperor had been unusually lucid for a time.
And unusually reflective.
"During the Great Crusade… if you had been there, you could have helped me…"
The Emperor said as much, then trailed off into silence.
The Master of Mankind realized something.
Even if the Savior had existed then, judging by how he operated now, he would have been an upgraded Horus. He likely would still have sidelined the Emperor.
Granted, the ending might have been better than the present timeline.
That was inevitable. The Savior also wanted humanity to flourish, but his route and his principles differed from the Emperor's.
Conflict would come. In the end, one side would have to yield, or be utterly defeated.
"That ending doesn't sound so bad. Perhaps humanity could avoid ten thousand years of darkness."
The Emperor had considered it.
The Master of Mankind had been forced to carry humanity's fate. It was crushing.
If he had a choice, he would rather have lived as he once did: a carefree rake in Rome.
In the past, the Emperor had no choice.
Aside from him, humanity's strongest by nature, there had been no one capable of saving mankind. He had to bear that weight.
But now, humanity had a Savior. That unbearable burden could finally begin to lift.
"It's a shame I don't have much time left. I probably won't live to see humanity's prosperity. You, kid, you…"
That day, the Emperor reminisced about his carefree days in Rome, then sighed in a tone that sounded like he was handing down last instructions.
Eden nearly went numb on the spot.
He had made preparations, yes, but if the Golden Throne blew up right now, everything would collapse.
If that happened, the Imperium would not "prosper." It would implode on the spot.
Humanity would be begging in the street.
"Hey, hey, hey. Don't say that. It's bad luck. You're making me nervous."
Eden cut him off immediately.
"You have to hold on, at least until our containment plan is completed.
And it's not like I can't find a way to fix you and get you off the Golden Throne.
When that day comes, I'll pick a feudal world and rebuild a Rome for you. You can retire and relive the good old days."
With current technology, perfectly recreating an entire Rome, even an ancient Earth, was not a problem. It could be a sightseeing world if they wanted.
In short, the Imperium still needed the Emperor to keep burning bright. Nothing could happen to him.
Security was everything.
"You little brat…"
The Emperor smiled, then turned serious.
"I can hold out a while longer. And even if it comes to the final step, I won't let those heretical gods have an easy time of it!"
As he spoke, the sacred sun in the warp sent a warning to Chaos unlike any before.
Chaos Gods: ???
The Chaos Gods felt that threat and nearly went numb themselves. If you're going to die, die somewhere else. Why are you trying to drag us down with you?!
They could not understand the Emperor.
To warp gods, humans were basically food, like how humans looked at fruits and vegetables.
They could not comprehend why a being that could ascend the highest stair at any moment would care about human survival.
So much so that he would endure torment for such lowly "fruits and vegetables."
In fact, the Chaos Gods were willing to share humanity's faith with the Cursed One, and they would not wipe humanity out.
Just like humans did not destroy their own vegetable garden.
But the Cursed One's demand was that they stop coveting the galaxy entirely.
Preferably, that they all went and died.
The Savior thought the same thing, and his methods were far dirtier than the Cursed One's.
Faced with the threat, the Chaos Gods said nothing, adopting a posture of "I can't beat you, but I can avoid you," lest they provoke the Cursed One.
But once they understood the danger, they also did not sit still. They quietly gathered and began plotting secret plans.
The Chaos Gods believed they were not far from the moment when the Cursed One's threat could be removed.
"Just wait and see.
Those Chaos gods won't jump around much longer. The Imperium will soon build Blackstone technologies that can restrict the warp. I'll crush them."
Eden spoke with confidence.
Blackstone could massively affect the warp, like the Webway the Old Ones built, which even the Chaos Gods could not easily cross.
Beyond that, the Necrons' Blackstone tech could form null zones that heavily suppressed warp activity, restricting infiltration.
Blackstone was like something grown by reality itself, a construct made to counter the warp.
Eden believed that as Perturabo and the Mechanicus pushed Blackstone research forward, humanity would soon cast off the warp's threat entirely.
Eden ended the memory and checked on the progress of the Necron emotion-virus project.
After analyzing the Flayer Virus structure, the Goddess of Life Isha and the Machine God were working to create an emotion virus and find a method of transmission.
The emotion virus was even less threatening than the Flayer Virus, bordering on harmless.
But paired with the Sun of Hope's faith-based deception, it would have an enormous impact on Necron cognition.
It would make them believe their souls were returning.
Once the Kalozasa Dynasty became infected with the emotion virus and accepted the new faith, they could carry it into the null zones and spread it further, ripping Necron society apart at the level of belief.
"If the Imperium of Man goes to total war with the Necrons, it ends in mutual ruin. No one can guarantee victory."
That was Eden's conclusion.
Fortunately, war was not the only way to break a species.
External war often strengthens internal unity. For both sides, it becomes a fight to the death.
But dissolving an enemy through ideological evolution was more lethal.
Eden would use layered ideological tools, faith mechanisms, and psychological leverage to shatter Necron ideals and cohesion, and make the Silent King understand pain and helplessness.
This was a war of thought.
In other words, the Imperium was now advancing two wars that would decide humanity's fate.
One: using Blackstone technology to push back the warp in full, carrying war into Chaos territory.
Two: using ideological evolution to wage an invisible war, quietly dissolving the Silent King's power, then striking for the kill.
Both proceeded in parallel.
If humanity won these two terminal wars, it would have no equal left in the galaxy, and could flourish without restraint.
"I wonder which war reaches its conclusion first," Eden murmured. He did not know what came next.
But everything was moving smoothly, step by step, toward the planned milestones.
Eden did not think further. Under the handmaids' care, he closed his eyes and drifted back into sleep.
The chamber still swayed with a barely perceptible arc.
After projecting the hymn and signal to the pilgrim ship, the Dreamweaver did not linger.
It continued toward Holy Terra.
The Kalozasa Dynasty's tomb fleet followed in its wake, leaving ghostly green exhaust trails across the void.
…
Pilgrim ship.
Inside the cathedral square.
The Savior's enormous virtual projection blended with the statues around it. Behind him were angels and a golden halo, displaying a holiness beyond anything before.
He looked down upon the pilgrims and praised their loyalty and courage in a gentle voice.
Such attention and favor from the Savior filled the pilgrims with even greater joy and reverence.
For many of them, it might be one of the most glorious moments of their lives.
That was inevitable.
The Savior's virtual image appeared often, but that was measured across the entire Imperium.
With millions of worlds, many regions might not receive such a "blessing" for decades.
Most Imperial citizens would never see the Savior's descent in their lifetime, much less hear personal praise from him.
"By the Savior, this is the highest honor! Even our armored company captain never got praised by His Majesty, you know!"
The short veteran was almost vibrating with excitement, his face flushed red.
He was not alone. The other pilgrims looked much the same.
"So that's it. The Savior is stripping Father of his authority."
Rogal Dorn stared at the pilgrims' devout, worshipful expressions.
He drew a deep breath and finally understood the earlier unease in his chest.
These pilgrims were traveling to Terra, yet their speech rarely mentioned the Emperor. Instead, they worshiped the Savior.
More than that, the massive statue in this cathedral square was also the Savior's.
Dorn swept his gaze across the plaza. Aside from sun motifs, he could not find a single statue of his Father.
This was an Imperial cathedral, yet the Emperor's image had been erased, as if he did not exist.
"What arrogance."
The Lord of the Phalanx was furious. He could accept the Savior managing the Imperium, but he could not accept the Savior occupying the Emperor's place.
The Imperium and humanity could have one, and only one, supreme ruler.
The Master of Mankind, their Father.
The Emperor.
"The Savior's ambition is bare. He wants to replace Father as humanity's highest ruler?"
Dorn's rock-hard face turned grim.
Anger rose.
If the Savior were here, Dorn would have to rebuke him harshly, even fight him.
Even if it cost him his life, he would force the Savior to abandon this wolfish ambition.
That was Dorn with his emotions already restrained by the changes he had witnessed the Savior bring to the Imperium.
And worse, Dorn still did not know whether Father had permitted any of this.
"If the Savior hid all this, and is deceiving Father…"
Dorn's thoughts dragged up a familiar, hated silhouette: Horus.
Before his betrayal, Horus had also been perfect. Aside from Dorn himself, he had been Father's most beloved and trusted son.
Horus had seemed kindhearted beneath a hard exterior, cultured, never condescending, admired and loved by Imperial citizens and warriors alike.
He had possessed overwhelming charisma, earned the trust of his Primarch brothers, united people.
He became the Imperium's sole Warmaster.
Everyone believed that under Father's guidance, Horus would create a new glory for the Imperium.
And yet that perfect being betrayed them.
Horus split the Imperium, driving a blade deep into Father's back.
Now the Savior was doing something similar: grasping the military, building authority, using personal radiance to eclipse the Emperor's authority.
He did it even better than Horus.
"If the Savior betrays us, what kind of threat would that be?"
Dorn's fortress-like body trembled slightly. He could not bear the image.
"Praise the Savior! Long live the Savior!"
A roar like the sea interrupted his thoughts.
As the Savior's virtual projection raised both hands, the pilgrims' emotions reached a peak. They shouted the Savior's name.
Believers prostrated themselves in worship. Warriors went to one knee in salute.
In the cathedral square, pilgrims dropped one after another, like a wave rolling from front to back, offering loyalty to the Savior.
Everyone sank low.
Only Dorn remained standing.
Obvious. Conspicuous.
Some noticed his disrespect and turned their eyes toward him.
"Big guy, are you stupid? Kneel and salute already.
What you're doing is disrespect and blasphemy. It violates Imperial law. Do you want to get dragged off for loyalty re-education?!"
The short veteran turned his head, frantic as he warned him.
He believed this honest giant from the fringe simply did not understand the proper etiquette, not that he meant to insult the Savior.
(End of Chapter)
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