Chapter Twelve: Children of Terra

Date: 790.M30

Location: The Emperor's private quarters within the Inner Palace.

The Emperor rarely slept, his Apex-mind and physiology did not require it. During periods of crisis he had spent literal years awake with no physical side effects and he doubted centuries of consciousness would have an effect. Yet he still chose to sleep occasionally. Not much, just a night once a week where he shut his eyes and allowed himself to rest.

He had been mildly surprised when this ancient practice of his had somehow influenced some of the Religions that had sprung up in his wake, they called it the Sabbath. Like many of the quirks he had picked up throughout the millennia it had unintended consequences upon human history. These sabbaths reminded him of that and the consequences of even the smallest errors.

Yet reminding him of lessons long ago learned was only one of the reasons the Emperor decided to still sleep. It helped him feel human, feel more connected with his species. He knew logically that engaging in basic bodily maintenance did not actually make him more human but when he went long periods without it he felt himself becoming distant, aloof, and worryingly alien.

The reason for this is related to how to sleep and in particularly Dreams connects to the Warp. When mortals dream they touch the surface of the warp and come into contact with there species collective oversoul. Here they touch into what an ancient friend of the Emperor named "The Collective Unconscious" When the Emperor slept he did not experience the random regurgitated memories and emotions of his subconscious mixed with the warp but something much more precise and powerful.

He touched the Oversoul of the human species and could feel the gestalt consciousness of Humanity. It was not unique to him and any Alpha class Psyker or higher could manage it but few did for what they saw there was enough to drive even the most iron-willed psyker mad. The Human Species was trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

The Horrors of the Old Night had touched every Human alive, fear and grief plagued there subconscious as memories both cultural and there own inspired nightmares more horrific than anything seen in human history. Xeno predators drinking the bones of billions and leaving the survivors to clean up continents of distorted corpses. Green Brutes mutilating people into cattle. Material Madness exploding out of a witch's skull and sacrificing its world to Chaos.

Every time the Emperor slept he touched the Oversoul where the Material and Immaterial met and reminded himself of what he must do. No matter the cost he would end the Nightmare and awaken humanity to a new dawn. When he slept he felt all of humanity as one and could feel the future they could obtain upon the Golden Path.

The Emperor's sabbath helped him reconnect with his humanity and since the ignition of the Astronomicon eight years whisper a simple phrase into the dreams of trillions of Terras lost Children. "Salvation is near o'Children of Terra" It was a promise he made both to them and himself. Soon the next step on the Shining Path will be taken and the Great Crusade would launch. Twelve years left, to get everything ready. More time than he had originally wanted but it would be worth it.

The Emperor floated in the dreamscape and brought himself back to Terra and watched over the homeworld of his species. He dove/looked into the Palace. It was still under construction but the Dungeons and the basic Skeleton were completed. Peering through layer and layer of the palace he watched the millions of the souls that inhabited the inner palace and looked for Twenty in particular.

All twenty of the Primarchs were asleep within there apartments. They were called Apartments but in truth, they were subterranean mansions built into the Emperor's quarters. (which in turn was a city-sized complex of rooms.) Each Apartment possessed full amenities from feasting halls to modular training complexes. The Emperor could see the various menials awakening to begin their duties and even a few of the more strict Matari beginning their morning rituals.

He chuckled to himself as he watched his Seventh sons foster mother awake before any of the others. Petra Sauer may have retired from the Imperial Army a decade ago but she had changed little. Catching warp-flickers he realized some of his sons still dreamt, he debated peering into them and eventually decided a quick glance wouldn't hurt.

*A King riding a Lion charged a mechanical dragon with the Knights of the Round following him*

It appears Arrik had been regaling young Eddard with tales of the Unification Wars. The Emperor only hoped that the stories his sons heard were not as grisly or nightmarish as the truths of that conflict, they still had a few years of relative innocents. No need to plunge them into a lifetime of war early.

*Cities forged from imagination rose into the sky, constantly improving and being rebuilt by a Conductor of Equations*

Octaviar had so far proven far more stable than the version raised on Olympia and he had hope for his son. The gene-connection was tenuous but some days he saw flickers of his old friend within him.

*Screaming, a thing made of blades and lighting stalked grime covered streets, filth of human flesh committed unspeakable crimes and the bladed thing did unspeakable things to them*

A frown crossed the Emperor's face, Konrad's gift of foresight was great even at this young age but it not only saw futures to be but futures prevented. The Emperor watched the dream of Nocturne for a moment before he reached into the dream and changed it, that horrific future had been prevented and he would not allow his children to be hurt by it.

The Emperor had raised thousands of children throughout human history, some his own, some not. Most of his biological children inherited something from him, increased psychic potential, extended lifespans and a rare few were true immortals like him and some still even walk the ages. Yet even the ones who had inherited great powers from him had been simply powerful humans, these children, his primarchs were true Superhumans in every sense of the word.

Each was intellectually, physically and psychically beyond humanity, yet still human. Their souls were not that of an Aliens but simply More than human. He had crafted them with thousands of years worth of knowledge in both the material and immaterial sciences along with Warp-born power. The twenty children were quite literally Myth made Flesh.

These thoughts floated through the slumbering Emperors mind as he watched the sleeping Primarchs. He could see the horrific futures he had averted and could only hope that their fates were not the tragedies he had seen. In particular, he looked at his 16th and 17th sons. Horus and Phillip both slept soundly and a grim thought entered the Emperors head. In ages past, he had been forced to kill his children and in a possible future, he would be forced to do it again to save humanity.

Dispelling that thought the Emperor prepared to awake and return to the material. Just as he did he felt a slight shift. One of his sons had awoken. A soft smile appeared on his face for he knew what would come next. It had become a competition over the last few years over which Primarch could wake up first on the morning after his sabbath. In order to wake him up.

Wincing slightly at what was to come next the Emperor returned to his body and waited in a half asleep state. He did not have to wait long until a black-colored meteor burst through his chambers doors with a squad of Custodes in hot pursuit. A Hetaeron just had enough time to bellow "Let your Father sleep Kota!" before the Nineteenth Primarch barreled into the Emperors sleeping from. Even with the body of an eight-year-old, the Primarchs "assault" carried enough power to shatter a normal man's rib cage. It proved an unpleasant shock to the drowsy Emperor.

Kota Ravenwing often won this weekly contest due to his mix of speed and stealth and was laughing in triumph while flitting around the Emperor's bedroom with the energy and momentum only a small child could possess. "Father! I was the first! I Snuck past all my brothers and woke you up!"

The Emperor tousled his son's hair and spoke "You did, I'm impressed my Son but you still need to work on not alerting the Custodes. Kota, you are a true master of stealth in the making. Now run along" The child beamed and scurried off to begin his day's training. The Emperor left his bed and telekinetically dressed himself as he spoke to the Custodes "Letting a child sneak through your defenses? He may be my Son but you are my Companions."

The lead Custodes responded, "There is no excuse my lord." The Emperor let out a slight chuckle before responding "To be fair it is hard to apprehend a Transhuman child moving at nearly a hundred kilometers per hours without injuring him. Though I trust you will eventually find a way. " The Custodes simply nodded and left.

The Emperor finished dressing and prepared to go about his day. The last eight years had been a whirlwind of activity. Terra was being slowly and steadily rebuild with primitive atmosphere scrubbers cobbled together by the Terrawatt Clan beginning the long arduous process of healing the homeworld of the human species. There had been a veritable population explosion thanks to the peace and prosperity brought about by unification.

Countless great works were being built across the planet, employing billions in the construction of new infrastructure and macro-structures. Material wise they were making due with whatever the Archo-Armies could scavenge from the depths of the Old Earth but the Emperor had known that the next phase of his plan would require Terra's twin. Mars: the Red world of Technology.

Captured cybernetic scavengers sent from Mars had given a pretty clear picture of what Mars was like, it lined up with both the Emperor's own projections and the God-Emperor's memories. A culture of cybernetic Tech-Worshippers both far too curious and close-minded for their own good. Yet perfect for the next phase of his plan. The Dragons Dreams still seeped into the minds of Mars but they were just dreams so far. The thing sealed within the Labyrinth still slept.

Malcador and the Emperor had both agreed that the time to reach Mars was at hand and the Emperor would lead the first expedition there within a month. He had honestly no idea how long negotiations would last and he was not going to bring his Sons to mars while they were still so young. This would be the first extended period he would be away from his sons and the governing of Terra. The Emperor intended to use the said month to ensure both his Children and his Imperium would survive his absence.

The Emperor strowed through the inner Palace reading reports prepared by countless Adepts under Malcador. So far the news was mainly good. Uriah was spreading the "Revised" Imperial Truth throughout Terra. A creed Uriah, Malcador and the Emperor had crafted using entire libraries of religious texts. The Imperial Truth was the idea of Humanities eventual Ascendancy. That by unifying as one we were taking another step down the road of Ascension, and working to humanities birthright as being surpassing any god-creature.

Malcador was busy helping create a bureaucratic system capable of actually governing the galaxy and instituting numerous backups and contingencies to help prevent the Administratium ever becoming the monstrosity of the far future. In turn, the Officio Assassinorum had made good progress through the list the Emperor had given Malcador. At this point thousands of potential threats were dead.

Arik and his equerry were also keeping busy. The Primarchs were still children so it fell to them to train the rapidly growing "First Twenty" as the first batch of 20,000 Astartes were being called. One of each gene-seed lineage. Once mass production of the Legions start these first Legionnaires would form the officer corps of the quickly growing Legio Astartes.

The Emperor had been working on a cure for the sickening of the Thunder Warriors, Astartes Gene-Seed had seemed to be a distinct possibility for a while, but they realized the organs would eventually reject the two thunder warriors and leave them in even worse shape. So far a stopgap had been created in the form of blood transfusions from the Primarchs. Cloned blood had been used at first to some effect but when they learned of it the then 5-year-old Primarchs were all willing to help there "Uncle Arik and Cousin Ghota."

As of now the Primarchs were growing quickly and mastering virtually every skill set the Emperor had them learn. Countless tutors and experts had been brought in from around the world to educate them. Each was utter masters of anything they were taught but took to their preordained specialties like leviathans to the sea.

Tyric could track a man through miles of the palace easily and hold his own against a Custodes in single combat. Dante and Konrad were mastering the art of Precognitive Combat and both Kota and Konrad could sneak through some of the low-security sections of the palace completely undetected. In turn, Vulkan, Culain, and Octaviar were hard at work crafting countless new inventions for both themselves and the Imperium.

The Emperor entered the Primarchs Hall and could hear the sounds of twenty superhuman children starting their days. The Primarchs hall was a vast circular room that acted as a type of pseudo-courtyard to the Primarchs Apartments. Twenty-Two doors lead into the chamber and lined the walls of the chamber. The Center of the chamber formed a park of sorts. A green space for his sons to explore and enjoy like so many generations of Terrans had in the past.

The Emperor stood at the southern entrance overlooking it and taking a moment to watch his children play. He let out a small chuckle as he watched Miriam chase a mid-flight, Dante. "Come back here, young man! You need to groom your feathers or they will get damaged." The ruffled looking Primarch tried to desperately flee his impending grooming but a pair of wings and precognitive powers were not enough to shake his Matrari (especially since she had a psychic link to him that helped tell her where he was.)

Similar events occurred across the Primarchs Hall. The Emperor let out a content sigh. The Primarchs were little like the living weapons and Warrior-Kings he had seen in the visions of the Heresy. These sons of his were Heroes in the making.

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