As for obsession? Even after all this, the descendants of the Sisters of Silence still clung to the "Silent Vow" they had made, communicating solely through sign language.
Swain truly couldn't fathom their way of thinking.
The Emperor's conversation with Corax lasted far longer than anyone had imagined; it stretched for a full day and night before Corax finally emerged from the sealed meeting room.
"Swain, my father would like you to come inside and speak with him," Corax said to the busy Swain, carrying a gift box as he walked out of the room.
"Oh, wow, what did your dad give you?" Swain asked, looking at the gift box in Corax's hand, not rushing into the room just yet.
"You can predict things, you should have said so earlier..." Corax's expression showed a hint of resentment as he brought this up, attributing everything Swain had told him previously to Swain's prophetic abilities.
Now he finally understood why Swain hadn't suggested a whip when he first took him to the armory to choose a weapon. According to his father, the master-crafted power whip in his hand was personally forged by a Mechanicus Archmagos and blessed by the Emperor himself—a treasure almost impossible to acquire—yet Corax still felt it was lacking something.
Thinking of the grand promises the Emperor had made: his legion was already en route, and this star system would become his fiefdom.
Well, Corax really wanted to say, weren't these just basic rights that everyone already had?
"Alright, don't be discouraged. Don't let external things confuse your true self. Our goal is the sea of stars. The future of conquering the world depends on you. I'll just enjoy my retirement," Swain said, patting Corax heavily on the back as the Primarch sat on the stool, feeling a bit disappointed, and contentedly handing him the most arduous task.
To those who are capable, more work is given.
Swain strode towards the small room whose door had already opened. He had been mentally preparing himself for so long, and Swain only hoped that when the Black King's power was exposed, the Emperor wouldn't smack him into atomic dust.
As Swain walked inside, two Custodians closed the door behind him.
What greeted Swain's eyes was a warm, orange light. The Emperor was currently sitting on the sofa, lost in thought, but he quickly sensed the familiar aura and pulled his mind back from his endless contemplation.
However, in Swain's eyes, the Emperor's face, which had looked on the verge of collapsing from overwork, had become even darker after a day and a night of intense conversation with Corax.
"Don't suddenly drop dead here, otherwise the Custodians will definitely chop me into pieces," Swain blurted out without thinking.
"Ah..." The Emperor, who was about to speak, was suddenly bewildered by Swain's words.
"You can see my true form?" The Emperor was stunned.
In the eyes of outsiders, the Emperor was always the stern, powerful, and ruthless figure. Only Kolet, the most powerful Soulless Queen among the Sisters of Silence, could penetrate the Emperor's psychic field and see his true form.
A middle-aged man with an ordinary Mediterranean face.
But now Swain had clearly also seen the Emperor's true form, and the problem was that he wasn't a Soulless One at all.
"Oh, right, it was that part of my power that allowed you to see me. I'm very curious, in my memories, there has never been any recollection of you. It's even less possible that I wouldn't remember giving my power to others, yet that power is indeed my own," the Emperor said, leaning back into the sofa.
The soft sofa immediately enveloped most of the Emperor's body. At this moment, the Emperor was like a lonely and helpless child.
"Uh, the matter might be a bit complicated. I've told you, you need to stay calm," Swain pondered for a moment, organized his thoughts, and gave the Emperor a heads-up.
"If it weren't complicated, I wouldn't be racking my brain trying to remember it. I have some idea; I understand concepts like parallel worlds," the Emperor said, speaking with the tone of an old storyteller.
"Uh, first, seal this place off. You need to ensure it's sealed to the extent that those four specters in the Warp can't know about it," Swain suggested to the Emperor, not entirely at ease.
"No need to worry, those four beings things cannot spy on our conversation," the Emperor said dismissively, and with a wave of his hand, a golden psychic energy enveloped the entire room.
"What's going on?" The Custodians and Sisters of Silence outside the door were stunned by the sudden appearance of the psychic shield. What, even the Emperor's son didn't get this kind of treatment!
Those more radical Custodians were already reconsidering their plans. Warp travel was out of the question; it was clear their master placed extremely high importance on that curious fellow.
"That matter is very complicated. You maintain this psychic shield, and let Him speak to you directly. You absolutely must maintain this psychic shield!" Swain said, then closed his eyes.
"Him?" The Emperor softly repeated the word. In High Gothic, the pronunciation of this word was different, and Swain had specifically emphasized it.
"Alright, alright, old man, stop jumping! I'll let you out, okay?!" Swain shouted, looking inward at his abdomen.
Ever since he sensed the Emperor's power, this little bead had been constantly jumping around inside him, especially after a day and a night had passed. Swain could even feel the uncontrollable rage within this little bead. He was certain that if he waited another day, this little bead would come out on its own, and then he would most likely be finished...
As if hearing Swain, the glass-bead-sized orb immediately stopped jumping. The golden light, which enveloped the abyss-like darkness within, began to surge into Swain's limbs and bones, making Swain let out a comfortable groan.
After letting out a deeply satisfied groan, Swain cast his gaze towards the remaining portion of the bead. He saw that the layer of golden light was now only a thin, cicada-wing-like shimmer. After seemingly confirming certain things, the thin golden light slowly dissipated, replenishing Swain's body, as if unwilling to waste even a speck of power. Under Swain's curious gaze, the black liquid immediately surged towards Swain's limbs and bones.
"Boom..." The moment Swain looked at the pitch-black liquid, his entire consciousness nearly exploded.
The sensation the pitch-black liquid gave Swain was that of a mad clamor filled with a desire to destroy everything, to obliterate the entire universe, while simultaneously containing an emotionless, absolute stillness of death.
Realizing what it was, Swain only managed to roar, "I'll be damned, you bastard!" before completely passing out.