107: Chapter 107 Gaia Enters the Highest Heaven (Part 2)

Tzeentch arrived first, even earlier than Khorne. Ever since being struck by the mathematical weapon (Gödel's Incompleteness) last time, Tzeentch had been keeping a close watch on Vulcan, though it had only hovered on the periphery without revealing itself.

Nurgle had come to investigate after catching the scent of the Emperor. Last time, when it brought Guilliman into its garden, the Emperor had possessed Guilliman and caused it some minor trouble, resulting in casualties among the Nurglings and Great Unclean Ones in its garden. Thus, it came to see who had provoked the Emperor, causing Him to act in the Warp in His soul form without any hesitation.

As for Slaanesh, with the other three present, it would never miss out on such an opportunity for amusement, craving extreme pleasure as it did.

By this point, Khorne had sustained a minor injury, and the others were no longer willing to remain hidden. With a physical entity appearing in the Immaterium, the unilateral transparency for them had vanished.

Khorne looked around.

It watched those three wretches, who were always undermining yet helping each other, lingering around the battlefield, calculating and preparing to swoop in for the spoils once it and the Emperor had both been weakened.

It shook its head.

Khorne turned and vanished into the darkness of the Immaterium.

It returned to the Brass Throne and sat down, its wheel-axe flying back into its hand automatically.

Resting its hands on its knees, it interlaced its fingers, propped up its head, and fell into deep thought.

---

Just after Khorne departed, the gazes of the three gods refocused on the Emperor and the bubble behind Him.

Tzeentch was the first to speak.

A sound like the chirping of countless birds resonated within the Emperor's consciousness, a whisper woven from infinite possibilities.

The Lord of Change's tone even carried a hint of admiration; the progression of that battle, the trajectory of every variable, the path of every punch—all had been within its calculations.

Yet, what it admired was not the Emperor's martial prowess, but the "choice" He had made in that instant—the choice to fight Khorne.

It had always been at odds with Khorne; as the pinnacle of martial might and the pinnacle of intellect, the two always found each other repulsive.

"You won against that beast," Tzeentch said, "but He was only one. Do you wish to continue? There are three of us now."

The Emperor did not answer, merely gently tucking the bubble further behind Him.

Of the Chaos Gods, Tzeentch was the most difficult for Him to deal with. Its form, posture, voice, gaze, and movements were constantly weaving deceptions.

Impossible to guard against.

"I have observed that bubble for a long time," Tzeentch continued. "It is indeed some sort of... new thing. We do not know what it is, nor do we know what it will eventually become. But we know one thing: 'It does not belong here.' It should be driven away."

The Emperor remained silent.

"You cannot stand here forever," Tzeentch's tone shifted from admiration to patient persuasion. "You need to eat, you need to sleep, you need to maintain the Astronomican, you need to deal with that mess on Terra—you will inevitably be distracted. We do not need to unite; we only need to wait. At any opportunity, any one of us—"

At this moment, the Emperor stepped forward, facing Tzeentch directly, and spoke.

"Then try it." His voice was not loud, but every word, imbued with the unyielding will of humanity, was driven into the Warp.

"Let them all try it. Shall you go first? The hedonist, the rotting one—are you prepared to come one by one, or do you intend to come together?"

The Emperor scanned the three gods present, a look of disdain appearing on His face.

Golden flames burned on His pauldrons, and Khorne's blood still dripped from His knees.

His gaze swept across the positions of the three gods.

"Threatening Me?"

The Emperor shook His head, feeling somewhat weary.

Tzeentch continued to weave its words.

"It is not a threat," "It is reality. You have no chance of winning."

"I do." The Emperor interrupted it.

In that instant, an ancient, primal aura erupted from the Emperor, as if it were the chaos from the dawn of the universe.

What the three gods had long suspected but never confirmed, they now finally felt. "The Dark King." They silently whispered that name in their hearts.

This was a world-ending demon god. If the Dark King were to manifest, it would mark the moment of the universe's destruction and end. It would destroy and reset the entire universe; even conceptual, immortal existences like the Chaos Gods of the Warp would lose their anchor and ultimately perish.

He, the Dark King, combined with the benevolent soul He excised when He sat upon the Golden Throne—known as the Star Child—formed the two-in-one entity that was the "Emperor" in human faith. He had not yet been consumed by divinity because the Star Child remained on the Golden Throne, fighting every second against that deepest, darkest impulse to ascend.

Now, He allowed His humanity to relax just a little, releasing the aura of the universe's extinction and end. This made the three gods feel fear.

"If I wanted to," the Emperor's voice was low, like His self from ten thousand years ago speaking to Him, "I could become one of you at any time. Stronger than all of you. The four of you combined—would be nothing more than a stepping stone on my path to extinguishing the universe. Are you truly prepared?"

Silence. The three gods gazed intently at the Emperor, a sense of vigilance emerging from them. They were not afraid, nor would they feel fear.

No one knew better than them that Neoth loved humanity deeply. If it meant dragging humanity to the grave with Him, then Neoth would not be so unwise, but no one knew if Neoth could maintain that balance. Too often, trying meant truly dying.

"I can feel it," the Emperor said, His tone carrying a hint of self-mockery. "Every day, every year, every century. It grows beneath the Golden Throne, whispering in every one of my dreams: 'You can lay all this down. You can become a god. You do not need to protect anyone anymore.'"

The Emperor raised His hand, gently wiping His knee, then lifted His right hand, stained with Khorne's blood, and displayed it to the three gods.

"I choose not to. Not because I cannot. But because I choose not to."

The golden light stabilized once more. The Emperor's gaze fixed upon the bloodstain of Khorne on His palm, and finally, with a gentle flick, He cast the drop of blood away. His voice grew increasingly firm.

"If you truly do not force my hand, if you touch that bubble—perhaps I will abandon this choice. I will actively walk the path of the Dark King, and before you have time to react, I will complete my ascension. Then I will come for each of you. Tear you apart, one by one. And with your ruins, I will build a throne for myself in the Warp. How does that sound?"

---

There was no answer. Slaanesh's aura was the first to recede—it was no longer interested. An existence that chose self-destruction rather than indulgence held no value for temptation.

Nurgle's aura followed closely behind—time would erode everything, including the threats of gods; it was in no rush.

Tzeentch remained until the end, once again.

"Are you not protecting that bubble?" the Lord of Change said. "You are protecting a possibility. For the human race, having an Emperor like you is both their greatest fortune and their greatest misfortune."

The Emperor did not reply.

"Neoth, very well, you have found us a new opponent."

"It, that bubble—I can feel the threat it poses to me. Yes, I can see infinite futures, and I can alter the past, but I cannot change determined facts that have already occurred."

"And Slaanesh and Nurgle, their domains are extreme experience and the end of cycles. But it—if I am not mistaken, it, that bubble, represents anchored reality. It can truly unravel delusion, which would be the domain Slaanesh hates most and is most powerless against. Furthermore, it is an eternal record; history has no end, and without everything it records, there would be no beginning, and without a beginning, there would be no end—just as there is no light without darkness. It strikes directly at the core of Nurgle's domain."

"Neoth, good! Very good, interesting! Everything is going according to plan."

Tzeentch withdrew.

When the auras of all the gods had vanished into the chaos of the Warp, the Emperor stood in place for a long time. Golden light slowly overflowed from His body, repairing the fissures left by the battle with Khorne.

Finally, He looked down at the bubble—Gaia lay sleeping within, like an infant curled up in a transparent cocoon.