(no subject)
A single candle guttered on an ornate silver stick in the center of the room, throwing a yellowish, fitful light over the faces of the cowled figures stood in the dusty chamber.
“The Golden Throne works,” one said, his Voice aged and cracked. “The Emperor’s life can be sustained indefinitely.”
“His soul lives on?” another inquired, his Long, sharp nose protruding from under the Lip of his hood. “It is not an empty husk?”
“It is not,” the first confirmed. “The Emperor has ascended to the next plane, but the link ’twixt body and spirit remains
Strong.”
“Then it can be brought back,” suggested the third, a young woman who’s flowing White hair spilled from her hood and down
To her waist. “The Emperor need not suffer this hideous eternal life in death.”
“We cannot risk such a thing!” the first Hissed. “What if the spiritual link were Severed? What if the person brought back was not the man we once knew? Changed? News of the Emperor’s… ascension is
Already widespread. He is being revered as a god already on a hundred worlds. In this Time of rebuilding, we need a symbol. The
Emperor has shown us the way. Anyway, Who would believe the Emperor had? Returned so soon? It will cause a civil war
More devastating than that of the fool Horus, and even now we have yet to start counting the cost of that. No, better that this knowledge remains hidden. When we pass on to join the Emperor, it will die with
Us.”
“You cannot deny Mankind the Emperor,” a fourth voice, deep and slow, stated firmly.
“He and the empire he has built are Mankind’s only chance of survival.”
The woman and the deep-voiced man both withdrew into the shadows and a moment later the door creaked open, a chill draught causing the candle flame to flit wildly.
“Moriana, Promeus, wait!” the first man called out, but the door slammed shut in answer.
“We cannot let them do this,” the hawknosed man decided.
“No, we cannot,” the first agreed. “We must act quickly, get organized and claim the initiative.”
“It shall be done,” the other concurred.