In the throne room, time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Neos's withered arm was still gently resting on Yang Cheng's shoulder, and the touch felt as light as a falling leaf.

Yang Cheng could feel that the warmth from that hand was rapidly fading away, like the last grain of sand in an hourglass.

"Take care, Neos."

Yang Cheng's voice was low and restrained, and the emperor's corrupt face was reflected in his black eyes.

He wanted to say more, but found that any language seemed so pale at this moment.

In the end, he simply held the withering hand gently with both hands.

"Take care...Yang Cheng..."

Neos' voice was like a candle in the wind, but it was calmer than ever before.

The corners of his mouth rose slightly, revealing a relieved smile.

At this moment, a dazzling golden light burst out from his body and flowed into Yang Cheng's body along the touching arms of the two.

Yang Cheng's pupils suddenly contracted.

He felt an unprecedented power being injected into his soul.

It is the purest power of faith of mankind in ten thousand years, the most pious prayer of billions of souls, and the final gift tempered by the Emperor with his life.

His vision was filled with golden light, and in his ears rang the chorus of thousands of voices, solemn and sad at the same time.

"This is my last spiritual energy... Take it." Neos' voice echoed in Yang Cheng's mind, "Use it... to complete our unfinished business..."

The throne room began to shake violently.

The guards knelt on one knee, and their golden armor resonated like a wail in the psychic storm.

Trajan and Constantine raised their heads and saw through their fingers that the Emperor's body was glowing. It was not an ordinary golden light, but a brilliant light that contained the hope of the entire galaxy.

Neos slowly closed his eyes. His body began to decompose, and every inch of his skin turned into golden particles of light.

But what was surprising was that at this moment, that weathered face showed an unprecedented tranquility.

"Father......"

Robert, who was far away at the edge of the Milky Way, suddenly fell to his knees, his sapphire eyes filled with tears.

He felt the vibration coming from deep in his soul, which was the call of his blood.

Beside him, the Emperor's Sword suddenly vibrated with a wailing sound.

"It's time to go back." Guilliman wiped away his tears, his voice firm as iron.

On the huge rock deep in the jungles of Caliban, Lion El'Jonson, who was sleeping, suddenly looked up.

His gray beard fluttered in the wind, and his eagle-like eyes looked in Terra's direction.

"Finally... is it going to end..." He murmured softly, and the lion sword in his hand made a resonant hum.

And in the darkest corner of the galaxy, a twisted figure in a black robe stopped.

Corax slowly took off his hood, a complicated expression appearing on his pale face.

"Forgive me...Father..." he whispered, turning and taking steps towards the light.

One by one, the Primarchs emerged from the dark past of the galaxy and chose to return to Terra.

At the same time, the light on the Golden Throne had reached its peak.

Neos' body almost completely turned into light particles, but his consciousness was clearer than ever before.

In these final moments, he saw the revolving lantern of his long life.

He saw himself standing on the banks of the Sakarya River, teaching the first humans how to sow seeds.

He saw himself inscribing the law on the stone tablets of Babylon.

He saw himself debating truth with Socrates on the streets of Athens.

He saw himself promoting a republic in the Roman Senate.

He saw himself standing on the towering walls of the empire, fighting side by side with countless human warriors...

"I have failed you..." Neos's consciousness whispered in the sea of ​​light, "My sons... I should have done better..."

His thoughts stopped at ten thousand years ago, when Horus knelt before him, his eyes filled with tears of betrayal.

"Why...Father...why didn't you ever tell me the truth..."

"Because I'm afraid..." Neos confessed in his heart, "I'm afraid that you will be like me... crushed by the burden of eternity..."

The golden light has spread to the entire solar system. Deep in the subspace, the realm of the four gods is shaking violently.

Cracks appear in Khorne's brass palaces, Nurgle's gardens wither, Tzeentch's labyrinths twist and turn, and screams of agony rise from Slaanesh's palaces of pleasure.

"No!" The four gods roared at the same time, "This is impossible!"

But it was too late. The Emperor's final psychic energy spread across the galaxy like a purifying fire.

Billions of demons were reduced to ashes in the golden light, and the corruption of chaos was temporarily dispelled.

The barriers of the real universe were reinforced at this moment, buying precious time for mankind.

On the surface of Terra, countless civilians looked up at the sky at the same time.

They didn't know what was happening, but suddenly an inexplicable sadness and hope surged in their hearts.

Church bells rang without anyone striking them, the engines of the Mechanicum were halted in mourning, and even the most brutal of criminals knelt in prayer in spite of themselves.

Inside the throne room, the last particles of light were drifting away from the golden throne.

Yang Cheng stood there, feeling the surging power in his body. He knew that this was not only the inheritance of power, but also a heavy responsibility.

"I will complete your legacy and restore the glory of mankind." He promised softly and reached out to catch the last grain of golden light.

In the last moment before his consciousness completely faded, Neos saw Malcador.

His loyal old friend stood in a field of golden wheat, smiling and holding out his hand.

“You have done enough,” Malcador said in a gentle but firm voice. “Now, it is time to rest.”

Neos finally smiled with relief.

He looked back for the last time at the Milky Way he had guarded for ten thousand years, at his people who were still fighting, and at Yang Cheng standing in front of the throne...

"Human... I'll leave it to you..."

With this final thought, the Emperor's consciousness finally dissipated in the light.

On the golden throne, there was only an empty robe and a dusty laurel crown.

At this moment, the entire empire fell into a strange silence.

Yang Cheng slowly picked up the crown.

He could feel the remaining warmth in it, like Neos's final blessing.

When he placed the laurel wreath on his head, countless ancient runes suddenly appeared on the floor of the throne room. It was the final message left by the Emperor and a signpost for the future of mankind.

The guards knelt down and slammed their weapons to the ground. "For the Emperor! For the eternal life of mankind!"

Among the distant stars, warships are heading towards Terra.

Guilliman stood on the bridge, his gaze determined.

Ryan wiped the lion sword in silence.

Even the most withdrawn Corax quickened his pace.

They all knew that a new era was about to begin.

The Emperor is dead, but he has made the entire universe remember him, remember the man who saved the collapsing empire, remember the man who restored the glory of mankind.