Emperor93

  WARNING: The following events and characters are canonical to the Warhammer 40k universe; however, they have been slightly adapted to ensure the story flows smoothly.

  Date: 456 M38

  Location: Sacred Terra, Imperial Pace, Sanctum Imperialis

  It's incredibly rare. Or rather, it is a legendary event.

  Dreaming.

  It might sound normal to a mortal, but to a Custodian, the term "dreaming" is not used lightly, even among the ranks of the Ten Thousand, as the meaning is completely different from that used by the mortals. The members of the Emperor of Humanity's guard do not require sleep. Every second of every minute, every hour of every day is dedicated to the constant vigil of the immortal remains of their lord who sits on the Golden Throne, to the preservation of the Sanctum Imperialis and the pace in which he resides, to maintaining the memory of the Imperium that was and should have been, but never realised.

  When a Custodian "dreams", it is when their lord imparts knowledge to his guard and advisors. Aesoth Koumadra, current Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes, is blessed for the first time with such an experience... but strange.

  With the Watcher's Axe in his hand, the symbol of his office, he passed the Astral Gate, the first of three to pass to reach the Golden Throne and stand before his Emperor. With each step he takes, the presence and psychic power of his Lord increase. Such is His presence that it is said that no human can bear it and emerge helpless; even the Adeptus Astartes fear approaching the pce where He resides. But beyond the presence of the Emperor accompanying him, his personal sadness at how the pce has changed over the centuries was also assailing him, with ever more elements and tools far removed from the pace's original architecture, but necessary to allow the Golden Throne to aid his Lord in His constant vigil against chaos and lead the countless fleets and armies fighting in his name.

  Having passed the second gate guarded by two venerable fallen interned in their respective Contemptor-Gatus Dreadnoughts, he could notice how the proximity to his Lord was now palpable. The Hataeron's auramite armor, the metal from which a Custodian's armor is made, showed signs of heavy bck burning on their ptes caused by the psychic power of the Emperor of Mankind, the same power that erodes the Hataerons' concentration and will every day, forcing Aesoth to repce them with other members of the Adeptus Custodes so that the vigil does not even show an opening. It may seem like an dishonourable act to be discharged, but in reality it is a pragmatic necessity accepted by all and not at all unseemly, since those discharged from the Hataeron come out with precious experiences, aimed at improving their vigil over the Sacred Terra.

  The st gate, inscribed with three words in Archaic Gothic, is the st threshold separating him from his Emperor. Creaking, the doors opened inward, and once again he saw beyond the threshold. The interior is an immense space where titanic stactites of vibrating power generators brought energy to the core of the room, where the throne is located. The air was golden, thick as milk, and came out of the doors like a clouded ray of sunshine. He passed the door and advanced. His every step was heavier and heavier, just staying focused was costing him much of his strength, but he had to continue because the "dream" was guiding him to the foot of the throne. The closer he got, the more he could see the state of his Lord.

  The Emperor of Mankind had sat motionless on that throne for 7000 years, His toned body now skin and bones like that of a mummy, dressed in a red tunic, His hair said to be ebony bck is gray-white, and His face that seemed carved by the hands of renowned artists, now an exposed skull and on the cavity of His left eye, there was a cybernetic prosthesis.

  At the foot of the staircase leading to the throne, Aesoth saw something that surprised and at the same time horrified him: a child wearing strange clothes was lying on the first step.

  With the Watcher's Axe held and ready, he approached the child. Next to the little one was a pile of white ash, with strange objects and pieces of clothing scattered on top. Only then could he smell the burning flesh. One intruder... no, two?

  That was his thought. What was once a human is now ash because of the psychic power and mere presence of his Lord. But the child was something very different.

  Lowering, he turned to the maybe 6-year-old child. A round face covered with freckles, bushy, green hair. From his closed eyes, tears fell on his cheeks without even reaching halfway, which dried.

  Is he still alive?!

  He discovered that the child's heartbeat was calm. An impossibility in that pce unless the Emperor himself allowed it. Quickly, he turned his gaze to his Lord and saw that His silent figure suddenly seemed to emit even more light, as if it were a signal, and he lowered his head.

  ?My Emperor, did you call me for this child?? he asked reverently.

  The air shuddered even more with power, and he could hear his lord's words, not His voice, but He was speaking directly in his mind. Those words seemed to be spoken by countless people, yet by the same person. The tones were authoritative, suffering, joyful, analytical, and many other facets.

  ?They... not... our... universe... Anomaly... fascinating... Two... children... appeared. First... adult... corrupt... purged... our... presence. Second... child... endured... endures... our... presence.?

  His Lord's words echoed in his mind, leaving him intimidated and frightened. After all, no normal human is able to resist the psionic power that saturates this room.

  ?What do you wish from me, my Emperor??

  ?Child... pure... spirit... wounded... determined... immovable...? the Emperor resumed, ?Fate... possible... destiny... fascinating... strange... glorious... dream... heroic... dangerous... Ten... thousand... trial... ascension... Name... original... keep.?

  Aesoth's head sprang up, his eyes behind his helmet wide open for affirmation. You want this child to have access to the Adeptus Custodes?! And what's more, allow him to maintain his previous identity if he succeeds in the ascension?!

  Words could mean nothing else. For the first time since ascending the throne, the Emperor of Mankind spoke and ordered the insertion of a child into His personal guard. For the first time, the Emperor recommended for entry to the Adeptus Custodes a child who is not even from this universe, allowing him to maintain his identity. It is unthinkable, unimaginable, yet Aesoth would not have disobeyed the will of his Emperor.

  ?As you wish, my Emperor.?

  The air fluttered again, but this time it was much kinder, less oppressive, and an object from the pile of ash rose up, carrying itself before his face. A cylindrical object, slightly burned and clearly malfunctioning. Aesoth took it in his hand.

  ?Entrust... Archmagos... Cawl... study... repair... deliver... future... child... moment... right.?