The Astronomican was relit after several days of darkness, illuminating half the Imperium. Warp travel resumed, and psychic communications were restored.
Holy Terra, the heart of the Imperium, reconnected with its people.
Worlds everywhere, anxious before, could finally relax and report their status to the Imperium.
As an immortal, the Emperor's body was almost indestructible. If, ten thousand years ago, Magnus had relieved him, he'd have recovered instantly.
But after ten thousand years of sustaining the Throne—and the mortal wound from Horus—the Emperor's body was completely decayed. Even this respite revived only his soul, not his corpse.
His body on the Throne was dead—utterly beyond saving!
"I can't imagine, Father, you endured this for ten thousand years! I feel despair after just minutes," Magnus gritted his teeth, looking at the Emperor's skeletal shell.
"It's not as tough as you think. The start is hard, but you get used to it.
You know, humans have a trait called habit. At first, it's unbearable, but gradually you adjust," the Emperor's soul replied.
Nothing could be worse than this! So why not be optimistic?
What's a little daily soul and body torment, or splitting off personalities now and then? No big deal!
"Father! If—ah, never mind, no use in 'ifs'," Magnus said with a self-mocking smile.
"Maybe one day, I'll get you off the Throne safely and restore your body, so you won't have to fear the Dark King," Rhodes smiled.
He wasn't joking—there were many miracles in the Ultraman Universe. What was incurable in Warhammer could be healed there.
"Rhodes, I know you want to save me, but I'm beyond help. All I can do is buy you time," the Emperor said.
The Dark King's awakening was only a matter of time; his only hope was to delay it so Rhodes and his sons could prepare. Humanity would not be extinguished.
"Have faith in me! Maybe a miracle will happen!
By the way, if you could leave the Throne and return to normal, what would you want most?" Rhodes asked.
"If possible, I'd want a big tub of ice-cold beer, to lie on a sofa and drink to my heart's content.
Then sleep on a soft, comfortable bed—that's what I want most.
I haven't slept in ten thousand years—I miss that feeling, the journey to dreamland," said the Emperor.
He'd lived nearly a hundred thousand years, and only once in ancient times had he been a king; the rest of the time, he'd stayed hidden and never liked ruling.
If humanity hadn't been on the brink, he wouldn't have stepped forward.
If Rhodes could ever free him from the Throne, he'd just want to be a homebody.
Stay home for ten thousand years, eat, drink, play, and rest!
Rhodes smiled. The Emperor's nature was as expected—he never wanted to be a ruler.
If humanity escaped extinction and returned to its golden age, the Emperor just wanted to rest.
"Yes, for Father, letting go of power and enjoying life is what he needs most," Guilliman said.
Many didn't understand the Emperor's true nature. If possible, he'd rather be a hands-off boss.
He never did everything himself—even when founding the Imperium, he delegated.
Power corrupts, but for an immortal, it just breeds boredom!
"Father! I'll watch the Throne, suppress the Webway daemons, and you can finally sleep," Magnus said.
He couldn't help with the beer, since the Emperor was a corpse, but at least he could help him rest.
"This is what I've most looked forward to in ten thousand years—I can rest!" the Emperor's soul sighed.
"Father, I'll stay on Terra, train my sons, handle some affairs, and keep you company. I'll relieve you once a month, to ease your burden.
Every month, I'll sit on the Throne for you, so you can rest," Magnus said.
It was all he could do now. He no longer needed to leave Terra—he would serve as Chancellor, handling psychic matters.
Most administration would go to Guilliman, while Rhodes and Elena could handle expansion and war. Soon, another would return, too!
A monthly rotation was fine—he could recover and resume Throne duty.
"No need for monthly swaps. Come once a year and give me a month's holiday.
You have more to do than sit the Throne," the Emperor said.
He knew how much sitting on the Throne damaged body and soul.
A month, then a year off, was best for Magnus.
"But Father, I..." Magnus tried to argue, wanting to atone for his millennia of errors.
But the Emperor refused. A month's rest per year was plenty—Magnus had more important tasks.
Eventually, after debate, Magnus agreed to relieve the Emperor for one month each year.
This would let the Emperor recover and better suppress his dark side, delaying the birth of the Dark King.
"By the way, I have something else to announce. Elena, I now officially appoint you as Imperial Princess, granting you the status of female Primarch," the Emperor looked at Elena, who was kneeling and praying.
"Me! Great Emperor, you—you mean, you want me to be your daughter?" Elena trembled, joy on her face.
Rhodes patted her shoulder with a smile and gave a thumbs-up.
He'd promised Elena this, and the Emperor had kept his word.
"All your Battle Sisters call themselves my daughters, don't they? So I now officially make you my daughter. Besides, you're an important Primarch," the Emperor said.
If possible, he'd have made Rhodes his godson, but Rhodes refused—he'd be a Primarch, but not a son. A son-in-law would do!
"Today is a day to celebrate. Father can finally rest, and we have a new sister," Guilliman said.
"Hail to the Imperial Princess!" the Custodians knelt and saluted Elena.
Previously, the Ecclesiarchy's Sisters called themselves the Emperor's daughters.
Now Elena was officially recognized by the Emperor. She was not only a female Primarch, but the officially acknowledged Imperial Princess.
Her title would soon be announced to the entire Imperium.
"Father, last time you mentioned two more brothers would return. Can you tell us which?" Guilliman asked.
He'd guessed one was Lion El'Jonson, but was the other Sanguinius?
Rhodes was curious too.
"No problem, I'll tell you. The next two Primarchs to return are Vulkan and Lion El'Jonson," the Emperor said.
Rhodes was stunned. Lion's return made sense, but Vulkan? Wasn't he missing, or lost fighting the Ork Warboss known as the Beast?
"Lion's soul and body have recovered after ten thousand years, and with the Eldar's help, I can wake him up anytime.
I'll arrange it soon. You'll soon meet your eldest brother, the Lion," the Emperor said.
"As for Vulkan! I've heard he perished fighting the Beast, so how will you bring him back?" Rhodes asked.
Guilliman nodded, curious too.
After awakening, he'd reviewed the Beast War. Vulkan shouldn't have survived—the Beast was stronger than a Primarch.
"Vulkan is an immortal. Even if his body is destroyed, so long as his soul survives, he can resurrect.
He and the Beast perished together, and given time, he'd revive!
But that battle drew the attention of two Ork gods, who took Vulkan's soul into the Warp as their plaything," the Emperor said.
That's why Vulkan hadn't returned—his soul was taken by Gork and Mork, the Ork gods.
"Wait! The Laughing God told me he had a dangerous, risky mission—was he rescuing Vulkan?" Rhodes suddenly realized.
"You're smart, Rhodes. Yes, my deal with the Laughing God was for him to try and steal Vulkan's soul from the Ork gods," the Emperor explained.
To steal a soul from the Ork gods without Chaos noticing, only the Laughing God could try.
"No wonder the immortal Vulkan hadn't revived," Rhodes mused.
Vulkan's identity was unique among Primarchs—many assumed after the Beast War, he'd revive, see the Imperium's corruption, and go into hiding.
But if he never appeared, it meant something had captured him—most likely the Ork gods.
"Rhodes, when Vulkan returns, please prepare a cosmic beast for him, will you?" the Emperor asked.
"No problem, leave it to me," Rhodes replied.
The Salamanders' master's return was good news for humanity.