In truth, even to the Primarchs, the Emperor had not revealed much about the Warp and the Chaos Gods.
Most of the Primarchs, like the citizens of the Imperium, did not know of the creatures that dwelled within the Warp, nor of the Chaos Gods that existed there, The denizens of the Warp were evil and blasphemous.
If one word could accurately describe them, it would be a Daemon.
Knowledge of Daemons was itself a form of contamination; ignorance was protection.
When humanity learned of Daemons, the emotions they generated in daily life could more easily attract them, or guide them down a path of blasphemy.
Not to mention learning of the Chaos Gods themselves.
This knowledge was far more direct; when you know of the Chaos Gods, the Chaos Gods gaze upon you in return.
To know meant to be more susceptible to corruption.
This was why the Emperor did not impart even a shred of this knowledge to His sons.
They did not understand the true dangers of the Warp and psychic power.
Only to a few Primarchs deeply versed in psychic power would the Emperor reveal a few brief words, for proficient mastery of psychic energy implied a certain understanding of the Warp and a certain degree of resistance.
But even Magnus, the son with the strongest psychic mastery, the Psyker second only to the Emperor and Malcador, was never told of the existence of the Chaos Gods.
He was merely tacitly allowed to know that beings might exist in the Warp, this was a form of protection.
But now, Number Eleven, His son, Zelo, not only knew of Warp entities, but even knew with precision of the Chaos Gods.
A simple memory erasure might work, but these blasphemous memories had already taken root in the soul, deeply entangled with his corrupted soul.
The Emperor fell silent.
He remained quiet.
In their earlier conversation, He had already acknowledged the character of His eleventh son.
Zelo was not the most excellent, but far from the worst.
But the problem lay in him knowing too much, being connected too deeply to the Warp.
In the silence, within the shadows, Malcador gazed at the Emperor.
A cold sneer rose in the old man’s heart.
In his dealings with the Emperor and the Primarchs, Malcador had found that the Emperor’s sons could be divided into the following categories, Those with good character who did not overstep the line: here were Horus, Guilliman, the Khan…
Those with terrible character who did not overstep the line: here were Curze, Angron…
Those badly flawed enough to cross that line: the vanished Second Legion.
Now they had a new category: one with good character who had crossed a dangerous line.
Zelo alone fit this category.
Malcador could see the Emperor’s dilemma.
Every recovered Primarch in the Great Crusade accelerated its progress.
Their Crusade was in dire need of efficiency.
Before seeing obvious signs of corruption and decay, the Emperor could not easily deliver a killing blow.
But Zelo’s position was simply too dangerous.
Finally, after a long silence, the Emperor spoke.
In the end, He relented.
Something in Zelo moved Him.
Or perhaps it was simply that He could not abandon a tool that might accelerate the Crusade, even if that tool was unwieldy.
“This knowledge is extremely dangerous,” The Emperor said calmly, seated upon the operating table, His gaze fixed on the Primarch kneeling before Him.
“I will seal part of your related memories, but some will be preserved.
You and your people, after undergoing rigorous screening to ensure there are no traces of contamination, I will permit you to join the Imperium.” “But you and your people must not reveal even a shred of knowledge regarding the Warp, or the beings of the Warp, to the Imperium or to your brothers.
You are forbidden from speaking of the true situation on Stoll Star, Your people will undergo a more thorough memory cleansing and alteration than you, and you will forever remain under surveillance.” “After this, I will grant you the Legion forged for you.
You will be dispatched to worlds ravaged by Warp corruption, where you will wage war.
But your deeds will never be recorded or celebrated by the Imperium.
When your brothers are hailed as heroes by the Imperium, you and your Legion will never be chronicled.
You will be deliberately overlooked.” These terms had never been imposed upon any other Legion.
Facing the other Primarchs, the Emperor had granted sufficiently lenient freedom.
He had tacitly allowed Number Thirteen, Guilliman, to expand his own territories; permitted Number Nine, Sanguinius, to be worshipped as a god on his home world; and silently tolerated Number Seventeen, Lorgar, preaching a religion contrary to the Imperial Truth.
But facing Number Eleven, Zelo, a Primarch who had already glimpsed the truth of the universe, the Emperor would apply a harsher, more cautious standard.
The kneeling Primarch before Him fell silent.
The Emperor gazed upon His child, the last son to be recovered.
Zelo’s face ought to have been as perfect and majestic as those of his brothers, but it had been ravaged by mad abuse, exposing hideous flesh and teeth.
He should have possessed calm, solitary black pupils, but these had been stained by frenzied psychic energy, transformed into neurotic pale blue.
These external signs also represented the interior, this was a masterpiece that had already been tainted, already destroyed.
“I am willing to accept…” A thousand thoughts churned within Zelo.
He realized there was no choice but to accept.
If he refused, would the Emperor simply depart with his army?
Or would He erase him and everything on Stoll Star together?
The answer was self-evident.
Beyond that, Zelo also wished to leverage the resources and military might of the Imperium.
Stoll Star was far too barren.
Even from the perspective of leading Stoll Star out of poverty, accepting the treaty with the Imperium and the Emperor was a way out.
However…
Zelo recalled the futures he had glimpsed, those maddening, despairing futures, forever ablaze with war.
“…But I have one question, Master of the Imperium.” Zelo lifted his head, his eyes fixed upon the Emperor.
“The Veil will continue to thin, won’t it?” On Stoll Star, those mad xenos had sought to weaken the Veil between the Warp and the material world through sacrifice and violent emotional impulses, hoping for the descent of the gods or Daemons of the Warp.
The Emperor was silent.
He stared at Zelo and slowly nodded.
“Allow me to presume that, at present, the Imperium possesses no technology or creation that can be directly applied to halt the thinning of the Veil.” The Emperor fell silent.
He did not move.
“Then how do we stop the Chaos Gods?” Zelo finally asked that question.
“I see the Chaos Gods eyeing the Imperium hungrily,” He spread his hands, recalling the xenos on Stoll Star.
“They are drawn to the vast number of human souls.
I am certain They will never give up the chance to corrupt the material world, yet the Veil that separates Them grows thinner by the day, If the Veil becomes so fragile that the Chaos Gods of the Immaterium can easily meddle with realspace, what will the Imperium do then?” Such a perceptive child.
So direct, so incisive.
An oppressive silence settled over the room.
From the shadows, Malcador coughed twice.
“That is the Imperium’s plan,” The Emperor spoke slowly, word by word.
He stared at Zelo, as if still appraising him.
“The Great Crusade is meant to stop Them.
Beyond that, I will not reveal too much to you.” “Technology enough to contend with gods?
Or technology enough to counter the Veil of the entire Galaxy?” Zelo pressed on, his eyes fixed on the Emperor, relentless in his pursuit.
“This is not for you to know.” “…” Zelo was silent for a moment.
His eyes no longer locked onto the Emperor, but drifted to the corner of the room.
The Primarch was thinking.
“But I have seen some prophecies of the future.” Zelo stated flatly, pointing it out without hesitation.
“I saw you fail.
You were in agony.
All of humanity was in agony.” The Emperor’s casually hanging hand twitched unintentionally.
“Our future has infinite paths,” He said, with rare patience.
“The future you glimpsed with your psychic power is merely one insignificant tributary.
Your psychic power has not been guided, and cannot perceive the deeper currents of fate, some of your brothers also possess the gift of foresight.” So others besides him had seen similar prophecies?
The Imperium and the Emperor had long known that the future could fall into such a state?
“How do they treat these prophecies, Father?” This was the first time Zelo had called the Emperor ‘Father,’ hoping that in the name of blood, the Emperor would reveal more.
Among the Emperor’s children, those with the most prominent prophetic abilities were Sanguinius and Konrad Curze.
Sanguinius was unwilling to discuss the content of his prophecies in depth with the Emperor; the Great Angel deliberately distanced himself from others.
As for Curze, he had been driven somewhat hysterical and mad by the content of his prophecies.
“I allow you all to have different views.” The Emperor said, raising one hand.
“But remember, my child, Zelo, fate is ever-changing.
Never let a single river deliberately shown to you by the Warp trap you in a deadlock.” Zelo, however, shook his head.
“But the pain I felt was sharp and bone-deep.
It absolutely exists in the future.
This is not a prophecy, but a suffering that the future Imperium and humanity will produce together, a thousand, a hundred times greater than the suffering of humanity today.” Something must happen in the future to generate so much pain, to cause the Master of Mankind and all of humanity to struggle so agonizingly.
The Emperor was about to speak, to say something, but Zelo spoke first, his Primarch’s eyes full of sincerity.
“Father, I felt your pain, “The pain of your future self was real.
I felt the suffering of all future humanity.
These pains are genuine.
They exist within the Warp.” “…” “The Warp is not as simple as you think,” The Emperor stood up, “The game is not yet decided, my child.
Everything you see within the Warp could be the phantom of lies, bait intentionally shown to you by evil.
Do not indulge in it too deeply.” “But the Chaos Gods truly exist.
They are, in truth, eyeing humanity greedily.
They are so powerful that the Imperium, by armies alone, is far from able to oppose Them!” “I have my own plan.” The Emperor said with authority.
A dazzling golden light shimmered from His body, piercing Zelo’s eyes until blood and tears once again flowed from them.
“This is not something you may know.
You have no right to know more.
As a father, I only wish for you to return to my command and become my loyal sword.” Zelo realized that the Emperor had been avoiding his questions all along.
Was it because he lacked the authority, or because the Emperor feared he might be corrupted, or did the Emperor himself lack sufficient confidence in this plan?
But Zelo now confirmed one thing: that the Emperor knew of the Chaos Gods.
And from the Emperor’s tone, he judged that the Imperium’s greatest potential enemy at present was the Chaos Gods, and nothing else.
Should he truly believe that the Emperor possessed a plan capable of successfully opposing the Chaos Gods?
Zelo had no answer, but he would always seek one.
If the Emperor truly had a way, then he would support the Emperor with all his might.
If the Emperor did not, Then he would never allow humanity to fall into the hands of the Chaos Gods.
The goal of this life of his would always be to liberate all of humanity from suffering.
Zelo would never permit the existence of powerful, deliberately malicious beings that tormented humanity.
He still had many questions, many things he did not understand, but the Emperor would not allow him to ask further.
Zelo knew he had already asked too much.
Zelo put on a perfect smile, it would have been better if not for the scar on his lip.
He looked at the Emperor, his eyes full of submission and loyalty.
He lowered his head again.
“I will fight for you,” Zelo said, “And for all of humanity.” The Emperor nodded.
He casually drew the sword at His waist, its silver blade gleaming under the light.
The Master of Mankind silently placed the sword upon the Primarch’s shoulder.
“I accept your allegiance.
Now, rise, my child.” The Emperor said, withdrawing his sword.
Zelo stood up and gave Him a smile that was harmless enough, yet beneath the scars, it became ghastly.
“What should I do next?” “You will meet with your people.
Then, you must go to your brother to learn how to become a qualified general.
Once you have learned, the Imperium will return your Legion and your people to you.” Zelo nodded.
“I understand.” “Go and meet your people first.” The Emperor said, looking toward the door, where a tall Custodian clad in gold armor now stood , Zelo realized the Emperor was dismissing him.
Though his questions remained unanswered, he did indeed miss his people greatly.
Zelo lingered no longer and followed the Custodian out of the room.
After the footsteps of the Primarch and the Custodian faded down the corridor, Malcador let out two dry chuckles as he stepped out of the shadows.
“A cantankerous Primarch,” He said, “He does not trust you at all, my lord.” The Emperor simply stared at the doorway, as if Number Eleven still stood there, his eyes flickering with an unfathomable light.
“More stubborn than I imagined.
He has been influenced too deeply , he cares too much and fears too greatly,” He said, “This is a virtue, but it will also become the bait that lures him into a trap.
He is too fixated on certain things.
I do not know whether this is the influence of his homeworld.” The Emperor felt a trace of regret.
Had he not known of the Warp, Zelo’s character would have made him the sharpest sword in the Emperor’s arsenal.
But once Zelo learned of the Warp, those very fine qualities would instead tempt him to walk step by step along the cliff’s edge , one misstep and he might be shattered beyond repair.
Zelo was already less than qualified.
Even though he possessed some virtues, those virtues had become extreme.
Push them even a little further, and they would become seeds of corruption.
“He will not stop seeking answers from the Warp.” Malcador spoke with a sardonic tone, “My lord, will you completely seal his memories?” The Emperor merely shook his head slowly.
“His understanding of the Chaos Gods runs far deeper than I imagined.
Erasing his memories is pointless , he would recall them again at any moment.” “Then shall we eliminate him?” The Emperor shook his head slowly once more.
“…No,” he said.
“He is merely somewhat curious.
His stubbornness and talent will make him a good commander.
I believe he will accelerate our Great Crusade.” “Then shall we act as if nothing has happened, treat him as an ordinary Primarch, and cast him into the Imperium?” “No,” The Emperor said, “He must be watched until we confirm he is no longer dangerous.
Matters concerning the Immaterium must be handled with the utmost caution.” Malcador was silent for a moment.
“My lord, then which fortunate soul shall we choose to be Number Eleven’s mentor?
The Lupercal?” “No.
It will not be Horus.” The Emperor replied immediately.
Except for a few Primarchs, each returning Primarch was guided into the Imperium by another of his brothers.
They would receive instruction from their siblings on how to command a Legion and how to integrate into the Imperium.
The brother who led a Primarch back to the Imperium often became that newly returned Primarch’s closest confidant, which also improved cooperation between their respective Legions.
But Number Eleven was clearly not suited to be guided by Horus.
Zelo knew too much; he might well corrupt the other Primarchs.
Better not to burden Horus with yet another strange brother.
“Which Legion is closest to the Stoll System?” The Emperor suddenly asked.
“The XII Legion, the World Eaters.
They are currently fighting in three neighboring systems away.” It was a good idea.
“Then let Angron come.” The Emperor said.
In a sense, these were two flawed products, existing only because the Imperium needed to catch up on the Great Crusade’s progress , a compromise on His part.
Even if Zelo spoke of matters concerning Chaos, it would not contaminate the other reliable Legions.
“Consider carefully, my lord.
I believe Angron’s condition would prevent him from guiding Zelo.” “Zelo only needs to learn how a Legion operates.
The XII Legion will teach him how a Legion fights.
He also has no need to learn to integrate into the Imperium.” The Emperor said, “Number Eleven is intelligent enough.” (Translated by yourtl.app)