The light of the Golden Throne is dimmer than ever.

The golden light that once shone like billions of stars is now reduced to faint embers, swaying among the cold metal giants.

Inside the throne hall, the air seemed to freeze and even time slowed down.

The Custodians stood silently in the shadows, their golden armor no longer shining but covered with a layer of gray rust, as if even these most loyal guards of the Emperor could sense the weakness of their master.

Neos, or rather, the being once called "The Emperor", now sat quietly on the throne.

His body was even more emaciated than Yang Cheng remembered, with dry skin clinging to his bones, like a mummy dried out by time.

The psychic light that was once as hot as the sun is now just a faint golden mist, lingering around his decaying body and may dissipate at any time.

Yang Cheng stood in front of the throne with a frown on his face.

He could feel—no, see—the life draining away from Neos.

Those golden threads of psychic energy, the power that once surged like rivers, were now being drawn out of Neos' body at a speed visible to the naked eye, dissipating into the void.

"Tell me, what did you do?"

Yang Cheng's voice echoed in the empty hall, carrying a hint of suppressed anger.

Neos did not answer immediately.

His empty eye sockets slowly turned towards Yang Cheng. The eyes that once saw everything were now filled with only a dark abyss.

His cracked lips trembled slightly, but no sound came out.

“Don’t try to trick me.” Yang Cheng took a step forward, the sound of his boots on the steps of the throne particularly harsh in the silence, “Do you think I don’t understand?”

He could feel that Neos's spiritual energy was drying up. Not consumption, not weakening, but a more thorough loss, like the last grain of sand in an hourglass, about to fall into nothingness.

"..."

Neos remained silent.

His head turned slightly, no longer looking at Yang Cheng, but looking into the depths of the throne hall, as if he was staring at some distant existence that only he could see.

"Malcador..."

His voice was hoarse, like the sound of rusty metal rubbing against each other, or like the wind blowing through the cracks in dry bones.

From the shadows came the sound of a scepter hitting the ground.

A slight figure stepped slowly out of the ranks of the Custodes - Malcador, Sigillite of the Imperium, the Emperor's most ancient ally.

He looked older than Yang Cheng remembered, and wrinkles covered his gaunt face like cracks in a dry riverbed.

His body was hunched, as if he was bearing an invisible pressure. Only the tall scepter in his hand supported him and prevented him from falling.

Malcador did not look at Yang Cheng, but walked straight to the throne and looked up at the man who once led mankind to glory.

His eyes were complex, showing loyalty, sadness, and some deeper, unspeakable emotions.

"If I have to use one word to describe you now..." Yang Cheng whispered, "It can only be a candle in the wind."

The light in the throne room dimmed even more.

"Tell me..." Yang Cheng spoke again, and this time, his voice was firm and unyielding.

Finally, Neos spoke.

“I don’t have much time left.”

His voice was no longer the deep and majestic one that Yang Cheng remembered. Instead, it was like a dying old man, hoarse and broken, and every syllable seemed to be squeezed out from rotten lungs.

"The Four Gods...are about to personally join this chessboard."

The shadows in the throne room suddenly twisted, and the reliefs on the walls seemed to come alive. The carved demonic faces began to wriggle and emit silent shrieks.

The Guards immediately tensed their bodies and drew their weapons, but they could not find any actual enemies - only omnipresent malice, mocking the fragility of the real universe in the ripples of the warp.

The malice of the subspace towards life is far beyond anyone's imagination.

"They are much more powerful than before... They are madly attacking the Webway..."

"I thought... that I could stop them by mobilizing all my forces..."

His fingers trembled slightly, and golden threads of psychic energy drifted from his fingertips like burning sparks.

"But I found out...I was wrong..."

"Now... I can hold on here... relying only on the last bit of my spiritual energy..."

As Neos finished his words, Yang Cheng leaned forward and pressed his hands heavily on the armrests of the throne. The metal groaned under his palms as it could not bear the weight.

“Why?!” His voice was almost a growl. “I can fight them with you! Why are you telling me this now?!”

The emperor on the throne slowly raised his head, and his dark eye sockets met Yang Cheng's gaze.

“Because you are important.”

This sentence is as light as a sigh, but it carries a heavy weight.

"What do you mean?" Yang Cheng's voice was mixed with anger and confusion, "We can now join forces to directly enter the subspace and kill the four gods--"

"They have no concept of being killed..." Neos interrupted him, his voice weak but firm, "They can only be restrained..."

The shadows in the hall twisted again, this time even more violently. The reliefs on the walls came alive, and the stone-carved demons opened their mouths and screamed silently.

The guards grasped their weapons tightly, but had no way to attack - the enemy was not in reality, but on a battlefield of a higher dimension.

"They have joined the chessboard of the galaxy..." Neos' voice became lower and lower, "Now... this chessboard is really... getting more and more lively..."

The corners of his mouth rose slightly, revealing an almost sarcastic smile, as if mocking the fickleness of fate.

Then, his head slowly lowered, and the golden psychic threads floated in the cold air like a kite with a broken string.

The throne room fell into deathly silence.

Only the demon relief in the shadows was still laughing silently.

"boom!"

Golden spiritual energy vibrated out from Yang Cheng's body, and the huge spiritual energy shocked the pupils of Jianqi who was secretly observing everything.

"The end is coming soon. That will be the end of me, and it will also be the time for you to inherit my responsibilities."

"I once had countless Eternal friends, but now the only one who keeps me company is Malcador."

Neos slowly raised his head and looked directly into Yang Cheng's eyes.

"There is a voice in the void telling me to stand up. Standing up will end all this."

"But I can't. The so-called god is just a name."

"However, in order to fight against the warp, I have to borrow this power. But the one who uses this power is not me, but you."

As Neos' voice fell, the screaming sounds in the subspace became more and more obvious, the four gods began to be contaminated by the webway, and bursts of golden light appeared on Neos' body.

"This is the last chance for humanity to revive. I'm counting on you, Yang Cheng."

"Lead humanity free from the constraints of the Warp, no matter the cost."

"And I will fulfill my duties on this throne until the last moment. After that, it's up to you."

(Note: The Emperor, the protagonist, and some of the settings are all made up by me! Some settings have been modified for the smoothness of the ending! Because according to the original logic of Warhammer...)

(Forget it, it doesn’t conform to the underlying logic of the original Warhammer since the beginning of the game. Anyway, it’s fine as long as you enjoy reading it.)