Emperor's Bane

Chapter 714 The So-called Merciless Sun
"Tell me the truth, Apocalypse."

"Did you hide it from me again and use the Minotaur in your brain?"

+ Then you are wronging me, my dear friend Malcador. I have not opened my labyrinth actively for a hundred years. As for those few times when I opened it passively, you know that even I cannot fully control them, and this is precisely the value of the labyrinth. +
"A hundred years ago?"

+Have you forgotten? The last time I took the initiative to open a maze was because of Morgan: I rarely open mazes multiple times for a certain thing, because even for me, controlling them is a delicate and tiring thing, but Morgan has this value. I have changed her position in my maze three times. +
"That is to say, you left at least four completely different impressions on Morgan?"

+It's not that bad. After all, I realized her value very early on: apart from the initial impression that was not very good, I have been working hard to maintain a father-daughter relationship with her. The heavy burdens on her shoulders are proof that few primarchs can get so many opportunities to change the fate of the Empire and the galaxy. +
＋Since she is an ambitious person, she will be happy because her ambition has been satisfied. ＋
"I hope you're right."

The noise around my ears was dissipating, and more and more originally swaying figures were returning to their respective positions at an astonishing speed. In the core where millions of eyes were focused, the two primarchs who were diametrically opposed to each other and the allies they relied on were gearing up and eager to try. While counting down the final time, they were wiping their invisible swords in their hearts.

The short break was almost over, and the exemption card was held tightly in Malcador's hand until he threw it to the ground and smashed it to pieces.

But before that, the Seal Bearer decided to buy himself a minute to think.

Malcador then raised his neck, revealing most of his face in the shadow cast by the hood. When he felt the rough touch on his cheek, the Sigillite quickly cleared his mind, then lowered his head again after a moment and asked in the direction of the Emperor with his eyes closed.

"What about this... the Dark Lord?"

"If you're not lying to me: you knew about it over a hundred years ago?"

＋Maybe longer. ＋
The Emperor's voice was hesitant.

+It feels ancient to me, as old as my memory. The only thing I know for sure is that when my past self chose to forget the concept of the Dark Lord, he also forgot many things: countless people, countless wars and discoveries. +
+ You know, Malcador, because of the existence of the labyrinth, there will always be a blank area in my memory for at least a hundred years. I have no recollection of what happened during that period: but I can vaguely perceive that most of them are related to the Dark Lord. +
＋And... it's especially early. ＋
"How early?"

＋The last blank period is basically the time when you and I first met. ＋
"very good."

Macador smiled.

“Some of the memories I lost in my mind seemed to have started from that time.”

"Is this your work too, Apocalypse?"

＋That's better. ＋
The Emperor's voice was serious: so serious that Malcador instinctively clenched his spine.

He knew what the Emperor meant.

For the current Sigillite, if it was the Emperor who caused him to lose his memory, that would be the best answer of all: since he chose to follow the Lord of Mankind, Malcador has become accustomed to losing his memory and having wrong cognitions.

The Sigillite knows how difficult and insane his common cause with the Emperor is, and that they always have to face the most terrible things in the galaxy: so terrible that the Emperor had to completely erase the Sigillite's memory of these things afterwards, so as not to cause long-lasting psychological damage to Malcador. The Sigillite's many amnesiac and cognitive confusions come from this.

So, for him, having the Emperor manipulate his memories was commonplace: it was even a good thing.

But unfortunately: not all difficulties and challenges can have such a perfect ending.

Just like the Dark Lord at this moment puts tremendous pressure on the Emperor and the Sigillite: in the days when they fought side by side, they had encountered things like this that not only Malcador needed to forget, but also the Emperor himself.

And not just once.

In addition, there are some special situations that require equal attention: for example, the value of some things in their hearts increases or decreases as their actual needs change and their vision develops differently; for example, some people or things occupy a certain position in the emperor's original plan, but after actual operation, they are found to be unsatisfactory.

Such special cases are not uncommon: there are several examples even in the original question.

For example, Morgan, Angron, or Luo Jia...

Another example is the guy who left a vague shadow in Malcador's heart. The Emperor did not even allow the Sigillite to remember the name of the Primarch whose existence was erased: because his existence was so powerful and blasphemous that it could actually affect Malcador himself.

Even Morgan had a hard time doing that.

And at this time, the only one who needs to bear the weight of these memories is the Emperor: the mind of the Lord of Mankind is filled with the most dangerous treasure trove of knowledge in the history of the galaxy. Many times, even the Lord of Mankind himself cannot fully bear all of the contents, and he must find a way to decompress.

This method was known only to Malcador: even Valdor knew nothing of it.

"The Minotaur's Labyrinth."

The Seal Bearer stretched out his dry fingers, pinched his equally dry nose bridge while shaking his head and sighing: he felt the Emperor's long silence in the Sea of ​​Souls, and that he was searching for any valuable information in the huge golden sun body.

It's useless, Apocalypse.

Malcador wanted to say that.

If the Emperor had chosen to keep the message of the Dark Lord locked away within the Minotaur Labyrinth of his mind, then even the current Master of Mankind would be unable to gain access to it: for the one who created that labyrinth, and placed such terrible information within it, was none other than the past Master of Mankind himself.

How could the Emperor defeat the Emperor?

And this is exactly the fundamental purpose of the design of the Minotaur Labyrinth: an information barrier that even the Emperor cannot break.

Part of a powerful structure capable of essentially manipulating the Emperor himself.

He had witnessed some of it.

"I don't want to remember: it was madness..."

The Sigillite slowly turned his back to his Master, his soul respectfully leaving the Emperor's ear, allowing the Lord of Mankind to continue indulging in his thoughts and boredom: in the last minute waiting for the two Primarchs to be ready and take the stage, Malcador's thoughts could not help but diverge.

The first thing that came to his mind was the concept of the Minotaur's labyrinth.

To be honest, he felt that this was almost the most magical and powerful ability of the Emperor.

It is also the best embodiment of the ruthless sun in the warp.

Malcador clearly remembered that when the Emperor admitted and told him the truth about the Minotaur Labyrinth for the first time because of something: damn, it was something he had forgotten. Although Malcador no longer remembered the details, he deeply remembered the shock he felt at that time.

It felt like the first time humans had seen a non-human civilization: at least at that moment, the Sigillite did not quite believe that the Emperor was actually a human, and until now, whenever he recalled the details of the Minotaur's Labyrinth, he would doubt what the Lord of Mankind was.

Not very human anyway...

After all, the essence of the Minotaur's Labyrinth is contrary to human nature: it requires monstrous ruthlessness and logical thinking, stable operation like a mechanical program that is enough to annihilate all emotions, and a cold heart that is willing to turn oneself into such a monster.

In other words, when he conceived and created the Minotaur Labyrinth, the Emperor probably did not regard himself as a person, or even as a living being: in the eyes of the past Emperor, his body and soul might just be a useful tool.

The so-called Minotaur's Labyrinth is not a complicated concept after all. To put it simply, in the Emperor's mind, there is an absolutely neutral, absolutely hidden and absolutely safe room, and inside it are countless safes. Each safe can only be opened by a password, and there is no other way to open it.

Whenever the Lord of Mankind encountered something that required him to be on high alert, he would reserve a place in this room in case of emergency. Then, based on the value of the thing and his next plan, he would plan how and what attitude he should take to face the new thing. However, the answer was often not fixed. In many cases, the Emperor's attitude towards an important thing would undergo two or even more changes, and he would infer these changes at the beginning.

So the problem arises: the Emperor may love someone in the early stage and then hate the same person in the later stage, but even the Lord of Mankind cannot hold both love and hate in his heart at the same time. Although this will not make him schizophrenic, such contradictory and complex emotions will also affect the Emperor's appearance, making his attitude less convincing.

In other words, if the Emperor himself does not believe that he loves someone with 100% of his heart, how can he make the target person believe it? Therefore, when the Emperor needs to love someone, he must deceive himself to the point that even he truly believes that he loves this person.

Therefore, hatred seems redundant, but it cannot be abandoned because it will still be needed at some stage in the future.

At this time, the role of the Minotaur's labyrinth became clearly apparent.

In order to ensure that everything is foolproof, the Lord of Mankind's ruthless rational thinking will not hesitate to cover up his already fragile emotional thinking, and then clearly reason out at what stage or under what conditions he needs to change his attitude towards the thing, and then turn these prerequisites into codes, and lock those attitudes and emotions that are not needed now but may be used in the future tightly in the safe of the Minotaur's labyrinth.

In this way, only the correct attitude remains in his mind: no matter what the Emperor truly thinks about the matter, his subsequent actions and principles will be influenced by the only attitude left in his mind, showing 100% sincerity, until all the prerequisites he set are met, allowing new attitudes and emotions to emerge in the maze and replace the existing emotions in the Emperor's heart.

And all of this was within his original plan.

When to love, when to hate, when to be the best father in the universe, and in front of whom to be a bastard tyrant: the Emperor had set all of this up early on, and in the future he only needed to dance to these arranged tunes.

Let's take a simple example: Angron.

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The moment the Emperor met Angron, he had already comprehensively considered his attitude towards the Lord of Red Sand based on Angron's value and his original purpose for Angron.

In the Emperor's original plan, he had intended to take care of Angron like a father, or to respect him like a king, but after witnessing Angron's situation with his own eyes, the Lord of Mankind did not hesitate to transform into the ruthless tyrant who made people grit their teeth over Nuceria.

The reason is simple. Based on absolutely rational calculations and interest assessments, this is the Emperor's most appropriate attitude towards Angron: since the Lord of Red Sand cannot bring him more benefits, then neither the love of a father nor the majesty of a king is important.

On the contrary, ruthlessly throwing Angron to Morgan's side, letting him accumulate hatred for the Emperor in his heart, so that he would not go to nothingness so quickly and embrace the broken nature of the warp, is actually a more profitable option.

As long as the fire of hatred still burns in Angron's heart, allowing him to maintain relatively normal thinking and sensibility, then one day in the future, there may be some value that can be squeezed out of Angron.

And when that day comes, perhaps the development of Angron's own abilities, as well as the changes in the Emperor's overall strategy, will gradually meet one of the many prerequisites for the safe named Angron in the Minotaur Labyrinth. At that time, the corresponding emotion will be released from the labyrinth, replacing the Emperor's current indifference to Angron, and perhaps even making him suddenly a truly good father, a confessor who does his best to compensate Angron.

This is not impossible.

And this is absolutely useful: even the person who hates the Emperor the most in the galaxy will involuntarily soften his cold heart when faced with the sincere attitude of the Lord of Mankind.

The prerequisite is that the Lord of Mankind needs to show all his sincerity: enough to deceive the sincerity in his own heart.

Yes, the indifference is real, and the possible confession in the future is also real, they will all be the Emperor's sincere gestures from the bottom of his heart, and this is what scares Malcador the most about the Minotaur Labyrinth: in the face of absolute profit orientation, the Lord of Mankind is willing to let his mind and soul become the flag of the countless grand plans he has designed long ago, and numbly run for it.

So Malcador always felt that the Emperor's projection in the Warp was so accurate: he was a ruthless sun, and all his sincere emotions were false. No matter how sincere he was now, as long as he needed to, he could show completely different attitudes towards the same thing.

For example, Horus: Even Malcador himself had to admit that the Wolf God was definitely the Emperor's most beloved son, and his love for Horus was absolutely from the bottom of his heart. But one day, if Horus really violated the red line set by the Emperor for him, the Lord of Mankind would also chop off the Wolf God's head without any emotion. At that time, his hatred and disappointment for Horus would absolutely be from the bottom of his heart.

These feelings are true, and yet these feelings are false: may Horus never know this secret.

Another victim was Morgan. The Spider Queen once complained to him privately about the drastic change in the Emperor's attitude towards her, but Malcador did not dare to tell Morgan that this was the consequence of the Minotaur's labyrinth being opened multiple times: as the Spider Queen gradually revealed her own value, countless new attitudes rushed out of the labyrinth because their prerequisites were met, devouring the predecessors who originally occupied the Emperor's chest and becoming the new "true heart" of the Lord of Mankind.

It is so convincing that even the Spider Queen cannot see through its true nature.

How could she see through it: the Emperor who called her a tool was sincere, the Emperor who told her to "overcome it all, or face the armies of the Dark Angels and Space Wolves" was also sincere, and the Emperor who proudly called her his daughter, called her his most capable assistant, and called her his pride was also sincere.

He changes a lot, but he remains the same.

The Emperor does have emotions. He even has emotions that are too strong and too fragile for mortals.

But it doesn't matter.

In the face of the emperor's dreams and great achievements: no matter how many emotions he has, no matter whether he is a sentimental person or a ruthless person, it doesn't matter. The absolute rational order will crush any insignificant feelings. No matter how touching the current friendship is, once the necessary opportunity is reached, they will disappear like ice and snow under the scorching sun.

They are not important at all.

They all make way for the Emperor's goals: the Emperor himself included.

Who can see through this? Lorgar certainly can't. He will never know that one of the reasons why the Emperor suddenly decided to kill the Perfect City was that Lorgar's actions inadvertently broke all the prerequisites set for him in the maze, causing the silent Emperor to disappear, and a fanatical religious city burner came out.

And Perturabo couldn't do that either. He didn't know that it was his vows at the reunion between father and son and his rash and impatient actions when he just returned to the Empire that made the Emperor permanently change his plan for the Lords of Iron: the loving father that Perturabo had been thinking about when he first arrived in Olympia certainly existed, but he soon gave way to the king in front of him who was indifferent to everything about the Fourth Legion.

In fact, this is indeed a very beneficial change: who can guarantee that if the Emperor continues to maintain his fatherly care on Olympia, he can please the eccentric Lord of Iron? And the current indifference and neglect did not hinder the Fourth Legion from contributing to the Great Crusade.

Yes, this is the awe-inspiring nature of the Lord of Mankind in Malcador's eyes: the Emperor certainly possesses great emotions, but these emotions cannot influence his layout. From beginning to end, in the mind of the Emperor, the only thing that truly occupies absolute leadership is the profit-seeking, cold and ruthless rational thinking.

It feeds on the Emperor's countless grand ambitions and insane beliefs, and endlessly fulfills its responsibilities: carefully measuring the value of every person and every thing in front of the Lord of Mankind, squeezing out their value as much as possible, and on this basis, tirelessly adjusting the Lord of Mankind's posture in front of everyone.

Beloved, ruthless, gentle, weak, crazy, and cruel.

They are all emperors: true emperors.

Some of them might be locked in the Minotaur Labyrinth forever, while others would slowly but surely change their positions as the outside world changes, leaving the Lord of Mankind with different images in front of the same people.

Of course, in the eyes of mortals, this is just another piece of solid evidence of the Emperor's schizophrenia.

But... who cares about these things?

Like… who cares what happens to Magnus after Nikaea?
At least the next four people who came on the court should no longer care.

The Sigillite shook his head, his thoughts interrupted by the sound of silent footsteps.

The old voice echoed.

------

"very good."

"Mortarion, Leman Russ."

"Guilliman... and Ahriman."

(End of this chapter)