Chapter 220: Petra
"War is cruel; hesitation means death," the Raven said. "The enemy will not grant you time to develop."
"The Gestalt consciousness is a viable evolutionary path, but it is not necessarily the correct one. Humanity's future should be diverse, not constrained to a single choice."
Tanambam found himself without a response to the Raven's words.
"However, the Gestalt possesses unique advantages. Your psychic might surpass even Magnus and Malcador, making you the strongest psyker beneath the Emperor himself."
Should he embrace more consciousness in the future, Tanambam might become a warp-shadow akin to the Hive Mind itself.
The Raven and Tanambam conversed at length, exchanging perspectives on human civilization and the nascent Imperium. As the collective will of humanity, Tanambam naturally prioritized human interests above all else.
This pleased the Raven greatly. As long as Tanambam stood firmly with humanity, explaining matters to the Big Guy would prove simple enough.
"May I speak with the Eleventh Primarch alone?" the Raven requested.
"The consciousness of the Eleventh Primarch currently dominates me," Tanambam replied.
"Then what are your thoughts? Have you considered separating from the Gestalt will and becoming an independent consciousness once more?" The Raven studied Tanambam with keen interest.
Due to the fusion of hundreds of billions of human wills within him, Tanambam's psychic projection created a distorted field within the warp, making internal observation extraordinarily difficult. Only an existence like the Raven, who commanded the authority of the Mist Space and could discern the threads of timeline and destiny, possessed such capability.
"Am I not free as I am now?" Tanambam met the Raven's gaze. "In this universe, what truly constitutes the self? Who holds the authority to define it?"
"Consider this: individuals undergo drastic changes in thought from childhood to maturity. Do these people lose their sense of self?"
"I respect your choice," the Raven acknowledged. "But certain truths must be made clear. The Gestalt path is fraught with unknowns, and the universe harbors terrors beyond comprehension. You cannot casually absorb the wills of others any longer."
"We must investigate and study your nature. Only after confirming your safety can we make proper arrangements."
The servants of the Dark Gods lurked everywhere. Tanambam was like an unprotected database—once corrupted data entered, the entire system could be compromised.
"Of course, should you refuse, an alternative exists: the Imperium will arrange a pocket dimension for you alone. You may do as you wish within it, provided you never leave."
"That sounds remarkably like imprisonment," Tanambam observed.
The Raven nodded without hesitation. "It is imprisonment. During the Imperium's ascension, we cannot afford excessive risk. An uncontrolled you represents such a risk."
"I choose the first option." Tanambam paused thoughtfully. "Trust me, in the coming days, you will personally witness the superiority of the Gestalt evolutionary path and understand that this is humanity's most viable future."
"I hope you prove correct," the Raven said.
After concluding his discussion with Tanambam, the Raven left Perturabo to continue accompanying the Gestalt consciousness and departed.
...
The moment he stepped from the reception chamber, a psychic message from Malcador reached him. The Sigillite wished to speak with him personally regarding an urgent matter.
The Raven wasted no words, spreading his wings to tear open a spatial portal directly to Malcador's chambers. He grew increasingly proficient with this technique, and walking had become obsolete when teleportation proved so convenient.
Malcador sat at his desk, reviewing administrative documents. The intense labor had left him visibly exhausted, making him appear far older than he had mere months prior.
'Fortunately, I don't have to do that,' the Raven thought silently.
"Ahh, Lord Raven." Malcador heard the spatial disturbance, turned, and upon seeing the Raven and his Custodian escort, stood and bowed respectfully. "I apologize for such a hurried summons."
"What summoned me, Malador? Wait, is there a new flavor of fries?" the Raven asked.
"Unfortunately, no, nothing so pleasant. It is an unexpected matter."
Raven raised his non-existent eyebrow in cartoon fashion. "Unexpected, even for you? Ohoo, I like the sound of that, tell me what it is?"
Malcador heaved a breath and said, "A young scribe wishes to visit you for an exclusive interview."
Malcador's words made the Raven tilt his head quizzically.
"....Wait, what?"
Good grief, how much did he owe this girl?
Malcador, Malcador, you look so righteous, yet even you engage in palace politics!
Sheh!!
"A scribe wishes to see me? Color me curious. Who is she? No ordinary girl could make the perpetually busy Lord Malcador personally deliver such a message."
Malcador's expression turned rueful, clearly aware of how inappropriate this approach was.
"The girl's name is Petra-Lani...She is the sole surviving heir of House Kapinus. This family has always provided substantial aid to the Imperium during the Unification Wars and later, during the reforms, repeatedly supported the Council in diminishing the power of the entrenched aristocracy."
"Unfortunately, Petra-Lani's parents...both of them have perished, one during the Unification, the other murdered in retaliation for supporting the reforms."
"Her grandfather exhausted all connections and resources to submit this request to me, asking only if you might spare time to grant his granddaughter an exclusive interview."
"Hmm...Hmm...Difficult to refuse indeed. I see, should it fail, the loyal House Kapinus will probably become a laughingstock in your political circle," the Raven observed. "Those who harbor resentment toward them for supporting the reforms will descend like carrion birds, dragging the family into ruin."
Despite the Emperor and the Raven's constant efforts to suppress entrenched power, court politics remained deeply rooted. Humans were ultimately creatures of desire and idealism in equal measure. Only by integrating all humanity into something like Tanambam, allowing all humans to truly become one, could such archaic political infighting be eliminated.
"Very well, I will see her." The Raven hesitated briefly. "Consider it recognition of House Kapinus's loyalty and an opportunity for a young woman who has suffered much loss in young life."
"But...but I hope such requests will not become commonplace. Politics is not my convention."
"Understood, Lord Raven." Malcador bowed. "When might you be available? I shall arrange the appointment accordingly."
"Today," the Raven said. "Send for her immediately. After I discuss the Eleventh's situation with the Big Guy, I will receive her."
"I shall dispatch a messenger at once," Malcador replied.
Terra.
House Kapinus Estate.
In an elegant study, the tall and striking Petra-Lani sat at a maple wood desk. Her late father had often boasted that this heirloom was a gift personally bestowed by the Emperor himself upon her great-grandmother, commemorating the great victory in the Ural Campaign.
"Magnus. Horus. Perturabo."
Petra-Lani tapped her data-slate with a golden memory-stylus. The stylus's organic crystal core captured her passionate emotions, causing the dimly glowing screen to display scattered words.
Great names appeared as lines of text as her meticulously maintained nails glided across the surface.
She was contemplating how to compose an inspiring article praising the Imperium when the doorbell chimed.
The security system hummed, automatically projecting a hovering interface before her, showing that her bodyguard, Magard, stood at the entrance alongside a house servant.
"What is it?" Petra-Lani felt mildly annoyed. The interruption had disrupted her thoughts and inspiration, both critical for literary composition.
"News from the Palace has come, my lady," the servant said respectfully. "The esteemed Lord Raven has approved your request for an audience."
The announcement swept away Petra-Lani's irritation entirely. She leaped up like an excited little kid, her face radiant with joy.
"Rouse everyone! Prepare my formal gown and ready the transport for immediate departure."
"Also, have the family chefs prepare the finest fries from House Kapinus's collection. I intend to present them as a gift."
Finally, summoned at last, Petra-Lani could barely contain her excitement. The estate servants mobilized with practiced efficiency, dressing their young mistress and arranging her attire with remarkable speed.
Meticulously prepared, Petra-Lani took her gifts and boarded the family's hover-transport bound for the Imperial Palace.
...
Leaving Malcador's workspace, Raven immediately opened a spatiotemporal portal to discuss the Eleventh's situation with the Emperor.
The Master of Mankind was neither in the Throne Room nor within His laboratories. Instead, He stood alone within a vast and austere hall.
Immense floor-to-ceiling viewports surrounded the chamber, yet heavy curtains blocked all external light, rendering the space dim and shadowed; only the pale luminescence emanating from the central hololith provided illumination.
The holographic projector was massive, installed within the vaulted dome above. Indicator lights flickered rhythmically, emitting a low, mechanical hum. Countless beams of light interwove through the air, coalescing into a colossal three-dimensional projection.
A luminous galaxy hung suspended in the darkness, its spiraling arms rendered in exquisite detail. The light reflected upon the Emperor's features, His ageless eyes gazing upon the stars like the Creator who had shaped all existence.
"Wait outside," Raven instructed his Custodian escort. "Should that young woman named Petra-Lani arrive, inform me immediately."
The golden guardians nodded and withdrew, their footsteps echoing as they departed.
"Yo, Big Guy."
The Raven spread his wings and flew to perch beside the control console. His voice rang out in the cavernous hall, searching for purchase among the vaulted architecture before fading into silence, swallowed by the immense space above.
The Emperor looked toward the Raven, His eyes seeming to contain entire galaxies...deep, infinite, and utterly fathomless.
"Did you finish speaking with the Eleventh?"
The Raven nodded. "Yes. Good news, the situation is not as dire as feared."
"Elaborate." The Emperor returned His gaze to the hololithic display, lost in contemplation.
"Tanambam remains loyal to humanity and prioritizes human interests above all else. You don't need to be concerned about betrayal, Big Guy."
"And the Eleventh's individual consciousness? Did you communicate with him directly?"
"The Eleventh's will is currently dominating Tanambam. As a Primarch, his psychic presence and force of personality are sufficient to overwhelm the collective and establish himself as the dominant consciousness within the Gestalt."
The Emperor fell into contemplation. Long moments passed before He spoke again, His voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.
"What is the probability of his betrayal?"
"Higher than most Primarchs, but still within acceptable parameters. Less than thirteen percent."
"A risk nonetheless."
"Nothing is without risk, Big Guy," the Raven countered. "The Eleventh represents an alternative possibility for human evolution. We cannot suppress it without cause."
"That path courts catastrophe," the Emperor observed, His tone carrying the gravity of prophecy. "A single contamination propagates throughout the entire consciousness. This universe is not benevolent. Beyond the Ruinous Powers, there exist Contamination Sources from outside reality itself."
"You have personally witnessed those corrupted universes. Even the embodiment of the greater cosmic consciousness proved powerless against such existential threats. A mere collective consciousness would stand no chance whatsoever. Separate individuals increase administrative complexity, yes, but they also increase the possibility of civilizational survival and adaptation."
The Raven acknowledged his words. "Your logic is sound, but the Eleventh is remarkably stubborn. He has refused to accept that his chosen path may be flawed."
"By the time he recognizes his error, it will be too late," the Emperor said gravely. "However, for now, provided he causes no harm to human interests, allow him to proceed. I shall assign overseers to monitor his development."
The Emperor reached toward the hololithic display, His hand moving through the light to magnify a specific region of the galactic projection.
"The Galactic War is approaching its conclusion. The Drukhari, Necrons, and Ork hordes are no longer a threat to us in a meaningful way. Now, only one obstacle remains, that vast shadow attempting to breach the galactic barrier and enter our domain."
[End of Chapter]