40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 345 65. Interlude: A father’s confession
A man slowly and wearily bent his waist and inched into a chair.

He was wearing a dark black robe, his face was calm, and his dark skin was stained with some brown-black powder, as if he had just finished working.He put his hands on the armrests of the chair and gradually sunk deeper into the chair, his expression becoming sad.

"Horus is dead," said an old man sitting opposite him.

The man nodded slightly and said nothing more.

The room they were in had stone walls and a mud roof, and the furniture and decoration inside mostly showed an unpolished primitiveness, either made of wood, or had been smashed bit by bit with hammers and nails. Shape of stone required.

There were no windows in the walls, but there were no torches or any other means of lighting either.Despite this, there is still a gentle light here that does not burn other people's eyes, as if it was born this way.

After a while, the door to the room was pushed open.The heavy door made of stone rubbed against the ground, and with a heavy sound, Khalil Lohars walked in.The golden color that belongs only to the Imperial Guards flashes outside the door.

"How's it going?" Khalil asked.

He was not wearing armor, just wearing the mask alone, with two rays of psychic light shining in the skull's eye sockets.

Malcador raised his head and glanced at him, shook his head, and the scepter leaning against the wall slowly flew up and reached the person holding the seal.He reached out and grasped it, and the aquila at the top of the staff began to glow with fiery light.

A picture appeared, with thick fog lingering, and it seemed to be a passage.The walls take on a heterogeneous gray, and dust that once belonged to a civilization can be seen everywhere.Such as statues, paintings, or green plants that have withered to ashes
Khalil nodded and said nothing more.He found a chair for himself and sat down, still not choosing to take off the mask.

Malcador had no choice but to speak: "Aren't you going to take off the mask?"

"I was afraid of scaring you, old man," Khalil said. "There's something scary about that face underneath that mask."

The person holding the seal snorted lightly and pushed the scepter in his hand with his backhand.The movement was not very friendly. The scepter even looked like it was going to hit Khalil, but it stopped immediately when it was about to actually touch him.

The skeleton stretched out his hand and slowly grasped the scepter. Suddenly, a dazzling light suddenly lit up in the room.In the light, the mask on Khalil's face finally slowly dissipated.

The pale face still looked handsome, but there were signs of brokenness at the edges. The eyes were filled with unquenchable rage, which had replaced his original eyes.

Malcador reached out his hand angrily, and Kalil pushed the scepter back with a smile and shook his head.

"The longer you wear this mask, the harder it becomes to take it off. It's really scary." He seemed to sigh.
"This is your choice." The palm-printer reprimanded sternly. "Who told you to have to appear on the Spirit of Vengeance?"

"Epiphany? That's a bit too superstitious a word, my friend." Khalil shrugged. "Don't you think we should change that word to one more consistent with Imperial truth?"

"Fuck Imperial Truth," Malcador said.

The man who had been silent finally turned his attention at this moment.He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but swallowed the words as they reached his lips.Judging from his expression, those words probably didn't taste good.

Khalil and Makado looked at him silently, choosing to wait in silence.After a few minutes, the man named Neos finally spoke.

Unfortunately, when he spoke, he was already the Emperor.

"They have made their cards known." He said seriously. "I had a prophecy on the way here. The thing wearing Lorga's skin was burning planets as sacrifices in Robert Guilliman's five hundred worlds. I can guess his purpose. He probably wanted to summon A warp storm that manifests itself in the physical universe."

"Countermeasures?" Khalil asked.

The Emperor gave a negative answer.

“It’s not that we have no options, but the costs of these solutions are too high,” Machado said. "Their ultimate goal is obvious. In this case, there is only one thing we can do."

He didn't say what it was, but they all knew the answer.Khalil sighed regretfully: "Maybe I should have come to Terra later."

"And then you were forced to sit on that seat halfway?" Makado scoffed mercilessly. "This is not a solution, Khalil."

"Honestly." Carlyle paused. "I'm not really interested in 'solutions'."

He slowly raised his hands. The five fingers were long and powerful. The fingertips, sides of the fingers and the second joint were covered with calluses, not to mention the palms of the hands.

"The more you kill, the faster your humanity fades," Malcador said. "If you really do this, the final outcome may cause an unprecedented disaster."

Khalil stopped talking - in fact, this was not the first time they had discussed this topic, but he still brought it up again and again.
Malcador would overrule him, and sometimes the Emperor would get involved and nix the idea.Khalil himself actually knew how stupid this approach was.If he really did this, he would be playing into their hands.

The four false gods cannot accept a similar person who can walk freely in the world. It would take a lot of effort for them to interfere with reality, let alone act like Khalil.

They long for it, but they can never do it.So they will definitely try their best to pull Khalil into that dirty seat and force him to become one of them.After a while, he brought up another topic.

"Have you ever thought about how this war will be portrayed in the future?"

"I'd rather not think about it," Makado said. "Although my responsibilities include the pursuit and protection of history, if we can win this part of history, I hope it will disappear in the long river of history."

"What about you?" Khalil looked at the emperor and asked softly. "What do you think, my friend?"

The Emperor didn't answer. He leaned back in his chair and his expression began to slowly change.

The firm determination that cannot be destroyed and the will that is unrivaled by anyone in the world slowly sank from this man, and what came to the surface in their place was a fragile humanity.

His lips were trembling, and his hands were tightly gripping the armrests.The vulnerability in this moment was so shocking that even Malcador changed his expression.

Khalil still seemed indifferent. He put his hands up and leaned his elbows on the armrests on both sides, observing Neos through the spire formed by his fingers.

After a long, long time, he got two answers.

"If we win, I will declare them heroes," Nios said.

"What if we can't?" Khalil asked.

"Then they are nothing but traitors," said the Emperor.

Khalil sighed, already understanding what he meant.

If they can win, then the fabricated lie of Imperial Truth will naturally no longer need to be used.The Webway Project can be officially completed and put into use. Humanity no longer needs the subspace to travel between the galaxies, and revival is within easy reach.

History no longer needs to be covered up, and the truth can be revealed.

But if they don't win a traitor is just a traitor, and a war is just a war.The Emperor's dreams were destroyed by his son, and the name of the traitor will be despised by all.Until they light a fire and escape the darkness, or are completely swallowed by it.

It's a cruel treatment, and what's even more cruel is that there may be no better solution than this.

He fell silent and began to play chess with Malcador in the psychic communication, deducing the future.The Emperor almost never participates in such mentally and physically draining chess games. He has more important things to do. He always has.

"There is too little time." The emperor suddenly spoke at this moment. “I have so little time and so much I need to do.”

Khalil and Malcador interrupted their chess game and looked up at him.The Lord of Mankind closed his eyes and spoke to them with his usual calm expression, words that should not appear in his mouth. These words were too fragile and sounded no different from confession.
But why should he repent?He doesn't need to feel guilty about anyone.Humanity owed him much, and he owed humanity nothing.If it weren't for him, Terra might still be in a dark moment when warlords are fighting and the people are struggling to survive. Expanding the territory like it is now is even more of a dream.
But this is the fact.

The Emperor is repenting, confessing, pouring out his heart.

"I can only make up one lie after another in a hurry to achieve my goal. For example, this rough system, the Empire. Its laws need to be updated every day, and the sentencing is not accurate and fair, and is full of the judge's own bias. Two stars Adjacent planets may even render completely opposite verdicts on the same case.”

"And the Imperial Truth. I told them that this is the only way for us to understand the world. This statement is neither materialistic nor rational. There is never a single way. I told too many lies, and sometimes I even I’m confused as to whether these lies are false or true.”

"In the eyes of some people, I am a tyrant whose ambition is enough to cover the sky. In the eyes of others, I am the only wise king in the world. To my sons, I am a father with a changing image. I It can be gentle, it can be cold, it can be talkative, it can be silent. I have too many faces and too many unforgettable memories."

He spoke in jumbled words, disjointed and without purpose, almost sounding like a disturbed old man talking to himself.And he himself seemed to be aware of this and chose to end this sudden confession abruptly.

"I'm going to work." He stood up and walked to the door.

"Do you need me to give you some advice, my friend?" Khalil asked behind him. "One father to another."

Neos stopped.

"Keep these words," Khalil said softly. "Someone will need them after we win."

The person holding the print smiled and advanced the chess piece four steps on the chessboard with his backhand.Khalil glared at him, and the Emperor turned his head and nodded.

"I will," he said.

　and also.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)