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Just as Yang Yi finished inserting the fifteenth enchanted golden apple and was about to insert the sixteenth, a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Don't stuff it in, I'll eat it myself."

The emperor slowly sat up, his voice still somewhat weak.

There was a hint of helplessness in his dignified gaze.

He took the enchanted golden apple from Yang Yi and began to eat it, as a large amount of energy quickly flowed into his body.

The Imperial Guards standing nearby trembled with excitement at the sight.

Their emperor has finally recovered!

Finally, after eating half a set of golden apples, the emperor returned to his state before he sat on the golden throne.

Yang Yi walked around the Emperor. He could sense the Emperor's physical condition. After he took away the destructive and dark divinity, the Emperor's power had indeed weakened.

"How are you feeling?" Yang Yi asked.

The emperor stretched and briefly assessed that it was "better than any moment in ten thousand years."

“But that’s not enough.” Yang Yi shook his head. “Compared to those four evil gods of the subspace, you’re still a bit lacking.”

"I need greater power." The Emperor looked directly at Yang Yi, a resolute glint in his eyes. "For the sake of humanity."

“Just what I wanted.” Yang Yi grinned and pulled a meatball that shimmered with cosmic starlight from his inventory. “Open your mouth, this is much better than the Golden Apple.”

Without hesitation, the emperor took the Universal Meatball, swallowed it whole, and instantly refined it.

"boom--"

An unprecedented burst of energy erupted, causing the entire hall to shake violently, and the Imperial Guards were thrown to the ground by the golden psionic shockwave.

The emperor's body floated up, surrounded by a golden psionic storm. The energy surged, reorganized, and strengthened within him like living things.

"What kind of power is this?" The Emperor's voice echoed in Yang Yi's mind, filled with shock and amazement.

"The essence of the universe, the origin of all things, how does it taste?"

The Emperor did not answer; he was busy adapting to the surging power within him. His warp projection began to change.

The flames of revenge, the brilliance of humanity, the resilience of humankind, the will to struggle, and the unyielding faith.

Yang Yi nodded in satisfaction: "I took away your destruction and darkness, but left you with traits that are more suitable for you. After all, you are the guardian of humanity, aren't you?"

"Of course, from now on, you are mine too."

The Emperor paused for a moment, then nodded: "For the sake of humanity, any sacrifice is worthwhile, and it is not a bad thing."

As the Emperor's power stabilized, an unprecedented golden psionic energy wave began to spread throughout the universe. This wave penetrated the material world and reached the depths of the subspace.

In various corners of the warp, the four Chaos Gods simultaneously sensed this fluctuation.

Within Khorne's crimson domain, countless skeletons suddenly ceased their slaughter and turned in unison in the same direction. Khorne himself slightly raised his massive head, a bloodthirsty glint in his eyes: "More and more interesting opponents are emerging!"

Within Slaanesh's palace of pleasure, countless souls immersed in ecstasy suddenly let out painful screams. "A boring fellow has appeared."

Deep within Tzeentch's labyrinth of knowledge, countless pages turned automatically, recording this anomaly. Tzeentch's eyes darted around. "Everything is going according to plan."

In Nurgle's corrupt garden, countless Nurgle spirits stopped dancing, and Nurgle's bloated body trembled slightly: "Would you like to try my freshly made soup?"

The gazes of the four Chaos Gods pierced through the mists of the warp, all focusing on the same figure.

Deep within the warp, the Emperor's powerful psionic energy surged like a bomb, instantly alarming all the chaotic beings.

Those Primarchs who had betrayed him now felt that familiar yet strange power—their father had returned, and was more powerful than ever before.

Forgrim was enjoying endless sensory stimulation in Slaanesh's Palace of Pleasure when he suddenly opened his eyes as the psionic energy surged through him.

“Father? No, this is impossible…” He stood up, a rare look of astonishment on his otherwise perfect face.

"How could he possibly leave the Golden Throne?"

Peturabo, a traitor to the Iron Warriors Legion, was directing an attack when a sudden surge of psionic energy caused his body to tremble violently.

"Has this power... abandoned humanity?"

Angron the World Eater roared across the blood-soaked battlefield, his battle axe dripping with blood. When the Emperor's psionic energy surged through the battlefield, he ceased his slaughter, his face a mixture of rage and confusion.

He slammed his battle axe into the ground, causing the entire subspace to tremble.

Mortarion paced slowly through Nurgle's garden, his disease and decay blending seamlessly into his surroundings. A surge of Imperial power caused him to halt, his swollen body trembling slightly.

A group of small plague demons surrounded his feet, murmuring in confusion.

Magnus was immersed in Tzeentch's ocean of knowledge, absorbing forbidden wisdom. When the psionic energy fluctuations came, he froze.

The pages of books floating around were flipping wildly, trying to record this unusual phenomenon.

Logar the Word Bearer awoke from his long meditation. The Emperor's psychic power caused a complex emotion to flash in his eyes.

Loga then picked up his staff and began preparing a complex prophetic ritual.

In the long war between the human empire and Chaos, the situation is undergoing subtle changes.

All the pieces were being repositioned, but Yang Yi's arrival disrupted everyone's plans.

What these demigods didn't know was that they were about to face not only the returning emperor, but also an invincible blocky being.

Even more fun is coming, Yang Yi thought with anticipation.

Chapter 97 The much-anticipated father-son reunion.

The Dark Angels' mobile fortress monastery, "The Boulder," floats silently in the void of space.

Inside this massive, city-like warship, Leon's dormant consciousness was suddenly awakened by a gentle and familiar energy.

This energy, as warm as golden sunlight, permeated every cell of his body, awakening his mind that had been dormant for millennia.

His consciousness reconnected, a beacon in the endless darkness of the subspace.

In his chaotic thoughts, Leon saw a blurry yet reassuring figure: his father, the one who created him.

"Father...is that you?" Leon tried to call out, but his voice could not come out.

As more fragments of memory were pieced together, he slowly regained some of his senses.

He found himself lying in a special medical pod, surrounded by warm nutrient solution, with countless tiny energy pulses repairing his damaged body.

He recalled his memories before he fell into a coma: the Horus Rebellion, betrayal among brothers, betrayal by his offspring, the battle on Caliban, and the sacrifice of countless loyal warriors.

These memories of blood and fire pierced his soul like knives, igniting endless anger, a sense of mission and urgency within him.

“I must… wake up…” Leon desperately tried to open his eyes, wanting to stand up again and lead his legion.

However, the battered body refused to cooperate, unable to make even the slightest movement.

Just then, a tempting voice quietly rang out.

"Why struggle? Give up...and fall into eternal slumber..."

The voice was as smooth as velvet, yet carried an imperceptible malice; it was a whisper from the warp, attempting to slip through one's fingers.

"No..." Leon roared from the depths of his consciousness, "I am the lion of Caliban, I will not fall!"

Every attempt is like lifting a mountain, every struggle is like fighting against the whole world.

However, Leon's will was like immortal gold, never yielding even in the darkness.

He tried again and again, and failed again and again.

His broken body remained unresponsive to his consciousness.

Sadness and disappointment began to erode his resolve, but he still did not give up, because it was the Primarch's responsibility.

Just as Leon was about to exhaust his last bit of strength, an unprecedented golden energy suddenly surged forth, washing over his consciousness like a torrent.

This light contained a familiar yet powerful force, the power of an emperor, but it was also somewhat different.

This power was more surging and purer than he remembered.

"Father really came back..."

As the Lion King's consciousness became increasingly active, the readings on the instruments began to fluctuate wildly, and an alarm suddenly blared throughout the entire cabin.

The Dark Angel medical officers put down their work, and the Mechanical Sages rushed over, their faces filled with unbelievable surprise.

"Vital signs are improving!" a medical officer reported loudly.

“The frequency of brainwave activity has increased!” another mechanical sage added.

The crowd gathered around the enormous life support tank, holding their breath and staring intently.

Inside the jar, various rare medicinal liquids and energy liquids were being absorbed at an accelerated pace. As Leon's consciousness fluctuated more and more violently, the medicinal liquids, which required countless resources to refine, were decreasing at a visible rate.

"A miracle has happened! The Primarch is about to revive!" the leading medical officer shouted excitedly. He had been serving this vessel for three hundred years.

This life support device represents the culmination of the efforts of the Dark Angels over thousands of years.

To gather the materials needed to create it, they traversed the most dangerous corners of the galaxy, fought countless alien races, and unearthed long-lost technologies from abandoned Golden Age ruins.

The mechanical sages worked day and night, all for this moment.

"Father is about to awaken!" A dark angel knelt on one knee, his voice trembling with excitement.

The surrounding soldiers also knelt on one knee, their eyes gleaming with fanaticism.

Among these warriors, the youngest had served for hundreds of years, and some had even witnessed the horrors of the Horus Rebellion.

They had waited for this moment for far too long.

“Don’t be overly optimistic,” the Mechanic warned. “The Primarch’s injuries are too severe, and even with these signs, it may take decades for him to fully recover.”

Just as everyone was filled with anticipation and trepidation, space suddenly distorted, and a golden portal appeared out of thin air in front of the jar without any warning.

"Alert! Protect the Primarch!" shouted a Dark Angel warrior.

Before he could finish speaking, a giant hand made of pure golden energy reached out from the portal and grabbed directly at the medicine jar containing Leon.

The hand was enormous, as if it could easily crush a warship.

"Heretical!" the Dark Angels roared in unison, and the Terminator squad instantly formed a defensive formation, their explosive guns pointed directly at the portal.

Some of the Dark Angel warriors drew their chainsaws, the roar of which echoed, preparing for a final battle against the invaders.

Just as conflict was about to erupt, a golden phantom suddenly appeared before everyone.