"You two have done well."
Eden looked quite pleased with the two perceptive High Lords who had quickly taken his side.
Then, he frowned as if noticing something for the first time.
"The representative from the Officio Assassinorum isn't here?"
Until now, all of his focus had been on the Emperor. He hadn't had the time to count heads.
If the Assassins were to oppose him, that would be a serious problem. They could strike from anywhere, were nearly impossible to eliminate, and crucially, Eden's envisioned political structure required their support.
"S-Savior, my lord… I've been here since the beginning…"
Came the ghostly, almost imperceptible voice of Eidiah, the Mistress of Assassins.
She had, in fact, been the second person to arrive at the meeting—but nobody had noticed her presence.
Eden's gaze shifted toward the source of the voice.
Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Eidiah cloaked in her black robes. He instinctively tensed.
"Damn, hiding in my blind spot—and even masking her warp signature."
That was just her natural placement as a top-tier Assassin.
They had a preternatural mastery of stealth, able to move undetected even through dense defenses, poised for a lethal strike.
Even High Lords struggled to defend against them.
"Savior, the Officio Assassinorum will follow your directives."
Eidiah said seriously, looking directly at him.
The Assassins were loyal to the Emperor above all. They would never refuse someone chosen by Him.
That, to them, was a sacred decree.
In fact, the Officio Assassinorum, despite its terrifying reputation, was made up of individuals subjected to extreme ideological indoctrination. They were more loyal to the Imperium than most departments could even dream of.
Children were recruited from feral worlds and the Schola Progenium, enhanced with biological augmentation, and trained in secret temples to become unmatched killers.
These assassins were allowed to use any weapon for their missions—even xenos or heretical arms, sometimes even forbidden relics.
Such rigorous training and faith indoctrination had proven extremely effective.
Officially, only two assassins in Imperial history had ever turned against the Imperium.
And even those betrayals stemmed from a desire to eliminate corruption within the High Lords.
During the War of the Beast, a disastrously incompetent High Lords' council had nearly doomed the Imperium. One Grand Master of Assassins reversed the crisis by assassinating every single High Lord—save one.
He freed the Imperium from idiocy.
But afterwards, he was hunted down—cornered by three Astartes Chapters and 400 Space Marines, and ultimately executed.
Since then, the High Lords had learned their lesson, fortifying their bastions and severely limiting the power of the Assassinorum.
They feared the blade too much to leave it unsupervised.
Because of that history, the presence of an Assassin representative at any council meeting always inspired a deep unease.
After all, when sensitive matters were being discussed, there was always a silent figure in black robes sitting in the corner—motionless.
If that figure moved, it was even worse. The room would instantly fall silent as everyone turned their eyes, ready to activate their defense systems.
"I mean no harm to you."
Eidiah, sensing Eden's instinctual caution, hesitated for a moment—and then pulled back her robe, revealing her form and opening her mind to him.
It was necessary.
The Savior, chosen by the Emperor, was about to seize real power. The Officio Assassinorum could not afford his suspicion. That would only bring restrictions and suppression.
If that happened, life in the temples would become unbearable for her sisters.
"…Indeed. Your loyalty is beyond doubt."
Eden's psychic sense swept across her form—clad in a skin-tight bodyglove—probing every inch, every curve.
He confirmed she carried no hidden weapons, no malicious intent.
His voice was firm:
"Come to my side. The Imperium's future needs your kind."
Eidiah obeyed without hesitation, walking to stand beside the Savior.
The Officio Assassinorum, after years of restrictions, had become nothing more than a weapon—stripped of any independent agency.
Once, that blade had been wielded by the collective of High Lords.
Now, Eden would wield it himself, to consolidate his control.
The other High Lords watched the scene unfold, each with different expressions.
They wanted to protest. But between the appearance of the Emperor's will and the looming shadow of the Redemption Titans, they dared not speak up.
This was the perfect storm—divine timing, ideal circumstances, and overwhelming authority.
You had to strike while the iron was hot.
Back in his previous life, Eden recalled a dicator. When that man declared martial law, if he'd immediately seized Congress, power could've been his.
But his hesitation cost him everything. He missed his chance—and never got it back.
Eden wouldn't make the same mistake.
While his influence still held sway, he would seize as much power as possible—then place limits on other departments.
This was a one-time window.
If he missed it, and his enemies had time to regroup, it would be far harder to act.
This was the same all over again—blitz the palace, seize control of the court, and claim command of the imperial armies.
Eden looked at Eidiah beside him with great satisfaction.
Then, he turned back to the assembly and began announcing one sweeping political reform after another.
First: the Savior's identity and authority would be formally recognized.
He would enter the Senatorum Imperialis as its First Lord—and hold veto power over all other votes.
Furthermore, all future meetings must be recorded through the psy-network, producing virtual and textual transcripts to be submitted to the First Lord's secretariat.
Thus, while the Senatorum technically retained some functions, in practice, it had become the tool of the First Lord.
The once-autonomous lords were now glorified civil servants serving the First Lord and the Imperium.
"Savior!"
One High Lord—the Chancellor of Archives—rose in alarm.
"Shouldn't this be discussed further? The ancient laws of the Senatorum—"
"Chancellor, are you opposing my reforms?"
Eden looked toward him, smiling gently.
"No, that's not what I meant. I simply thought there might be some discussion—this reform may not align with—"
"My statement is complete."
Eden's tone sharpened.
"Are you in favor—or opposed? Give me a clear answer."
The chamber fell silent.
The eyes of the Savior, the Inquisitorial representative, the Master of Navigators, and the Mistress of Assassins all turned toward the Chancellor.
A crushing weight descended on the elderly man.
"Emperor above, didn't he say we could discuss this?!"
Sweat trickled down the Chancellor's brow. His heart pounded.
He could almost feel the assassins waiting for him outside the chamber.
Finally, he bowed his head.
"I… I support the Savior's decision. This is an excellent reform."
"Do you?"
Eden's tone remained skeptical.
"You're an expert on law. Do these reforms comply with Imperial statutes?"
"By the Emperor's grace… I believe they do."
The Chancellor's cranial implants scrambled through memory banks. His life depended on this answer.
"The Emperor, when founding the Imperium, issued a decree—"
And he began rattling off statutes and precedents—citing ten specific legal supports for the Savior's reform.
"Truly a living archive of Holy Terra," Eden praised.
"The Imperium would be lost without you. Lord Tremaas, I entrust the legal codification of this reform to you."
"As you will it! I swear by the Emperor's name—I will give everything for this sacred task!"
The Chancellor now had no choice but to fully embrace Eden's side. There was no going back.
Eden gave him a look of approval.
With Tremaas won over, Eden now controlled legal interpretation itself.
The Senatorum's proceedings resumed—with no serious opposition.
Especially since the Lord Regent of the Imperium remained silently supportive the entire time.
Roboute Guilliman had no choice.
His own father supported Eden—how could he oppose him? He wasn't about to get slapped with psychic backlash for defiance.
Indeed, since his return, Guilliman had grown far bolder.
After all, the Emperor was back on the Golden Throne—untouchable. No one could constrain him anymore, not even Guilliman himself.
And though he might grumble, he still respected his father deeply.
He could oppose Him if He turned to Chaos.
But now? Guilliman had seen how his father fought Nurgle's gods. He knew His power.
And so, just like before, he returned to calling Him "Father."
Not out of fear—but out of reverence.
Guilliman sat through the whole meeting in silent support, assisting his brother's reforms.
At last, the new High Lords' Council was established—with the Savior at its helm.
The Senate's defense structure was also overhauled.
From now on, it would be protected by the Savior's forces—securing internal control.
The Limitation Edicts were abolished.
Qualified civil servants could now enter the Senatorum to assist the Lords—bringing transparency to what had once been a black box of backroom shouting matches.
The Light Coalition was dismantled. All High Lords aside from the Navigator representative were declared heretics and traitors.
The Inquisition and Assassinorum would jointly hunt them down and bring them to justice.
New appointees filled their positions.
From the Lord Regent's staff, Bayessa, Chief Minister of Interior Affairs, was elevated to High Lord of the Interior.
An ideal candidate.
Bayessa was an elite scion of House Cotton—Eden's own steward family. Eden had placed her with the Lord Regent long ago. (Decendant of Bayev)
She was educated by Eden himself, deeply familiar with his administrative philosophy, and seasoned in managing Imperial affairs.
She would be the spearhead of policy implementation.
Devile, High Grand Inquisitor of the Urth Inquisition, also joined the Senatorum.
He would lead a new agency—the Ministry of Oversight.
This agency would oversee all Imperial departments and conduct investigations. It would have close ties to the Officio Assassinorum and the authority to deploy assassins as needed.
All Assassin operations must now be approved by the Oversight Ministry, preventing abuse.
This agency would fuse the powers of the Inquisition and Assassins—and act as the Savior's arm of enforcement.
Other departments saw few changes—but all authority would now be strictly regulated.
Commander Mohr of the Astra Militarum was given the title of Lord Solar, granting him dominion over the Sol System.
The Solar Auxilia would be further developed to protect Terra and key Imperial regions.
Lastly, all departments would be integrated into the psy-network to improve efficiency.
No more siloed operations.
All must now report to the First Lord of the High Lords Council—the Savior—and his secretariat.
The Lord Regent would serve a more executive, coordination-focused role.
Think of it like Eden being the Party Secretary, and Guilliman the Mayor.
The Savior would chart policy and vision. The Regent would implement it.
And the Imperium was vast.
Reforming it would not be easy.
Holy Terra's transformation was only the beginning. The reforms would spread—anchored on new organizational structures and psy-net integration.
The patchwork Imperium would become a unified whole.
That process would require endless meetings, negotiations, and at times, military force.
It would be slow, exhausting, and fraught with resistance.
And that entire burden would fall to the Lord Regent.
Especially in key regions—one by one, in person.
The estimate was… over a century.
At best.
"…Old Gil, I'm really counting on you."
Eden clasped Guilliman's hand, somewhat apologetically.
But he knew—he had other things to handle.
More importantly, Eden had no desire to spend the next hundred years traveling the Imperium, meeting every planetary lord and Chapter Master—he didn't even know most of them.
So this exhausting task could only fall to Old Gil. Guilliman, the living legend, already had ties with nearly every major faction in the Imperium.
And really, this couldn't be harder than when the Imperium first flatlined and went into ICU.
Eden believed Guilliman could handle it.
"That's my duty."
Guilliman's voice was resolute. He had no hesitation. His brother had done the hard part—instigating reform and carrying it through.
Now it was his turn to shoulder the burden of responsibility… and bring humanity into a new golden age.
He looked at Eden with deep emotion.
This brother of his had done so much—given so much for mankind.
Without Eden, he might still be stuck, drowning in the Empire's bureaucratic mess.
Sure, the upcoming task was difficult. But compared to before, it was almost a relief.
All he had to do was visit some people—or use military force. That was his specialty anyway.
A day passed.
The meeting finally ended.
The Lord Regent was the first to leave, seemingly with something urgent on his plate.
"Old Gil, where are you off to?"
Eden noticed he seemed out of sorts and asked with concern.
"…Nowhere important. Just heading to the Golden Throne."
The Lord Regent picked up his pace, avoiding further questions.
How was he supposed to tell Eden he was going to apologize to their dad?
After all, two people sat on that golden throne… but only one of them got reamed.
So much for "we're in this together."
Guilliman sighed as he walked, feeling that today's wind was especially cold and lonely.
...
Inside the Imperial Palace
The Custodes were still fussing over that prophecy—trying to use their divinations to determine who should kneel before the Throne for penance.
But the Lord Regent had already arrived.
Once the official decrees and appointments had been finalized, the High Lords—and others—finally exhaled in relief.
They began returning to their duties.
"Tch… That went way smoother than I expected…"
Eden was genuinely surprised.
All the reforms and laws had been announced—and yet there was barely any resistance.
Probably due to the Imperium's long history of insanely harsh laws. People were used to submitting to absurd and draconian orders.
Compared to those, Eden's new governance actually felt… humane.
So naturally, there wasn't much backlash.
Soon, the Inquisition and Assassinorum were fully mobilized—issuing arrest warrants throughout the Imperium and capturing those linked to the heretical High Lords.
Inquisitors and assassins flooded into hive cities and fortress-palaces to apprehend the traitors.
They didn't even need Eden to get involved.
At the same time, the Imperial Navy set out to reclaim their territories and fold them back into the Emperor's domain.
Those traitorous lords and their families would lose everything.
The Master of Navigators—though partially guilty—had surrendered early, read the room, and was granted clemency.
He was sentenced to only 150 years in the Imperial Palace.
He'd probably live to see the end of his term—and no doubt come crawling back to Eden's side.
It was said he entered prison with a smile of gratitude, praising the Savior's mercy.
After all, in Holy Terra's ruthless political arena, losers like him rarely survived.
The Navigator Houses were purged, but the damage was mostly financial. They hadn't been wiped out.
Many had thought they were doomed. So to them, this outcome was a miracle.
Their fear quickly turned into loyal devotion.
Booming gunfire from the Redemption Titans signaled renewed order across Terra.
More reforms were issued. More edicts implemented.
...
Terran Forum Plaza
"We swear loyalty to the Savior!"
"I—I'm loyal too! Please!"
"You can't do this!"
The heretical traitors of the Light Coalition, including Violetta, were shackled in arcane manacles in the heart of the plaza—screaming in desperation, trying to beg for mercy.
After their fortresses were overrun by Redemption Titans, Inquisitors and Assassins had easily tracked them through the labyrinthine hive cities and dragged them out.
Associated persons were rounded up as well.
The Savior didn't even need to show up.
Meanwhile, the Imperial Navy claimed their sectors as Imperial territory.
The traitors—and their bloodlines—were wiped from the map.
Only the Master of Navigators survived.
Sentencing followed.
Grand Inquisitor Corwin stood tall and delivered the verdict: death.
The Redemption Titans lifted their colossal mechanical limbs and brought them down.
Crack. Crunch.
The heretics were reduced to bloody paste—gray matter and bone ground into the ferrocrete.
Just as the Savior had once promised: their brains had been crushed by Titans.
Then, their remains were incinerated to ash.
Even their souls were banished—dispelled by the Grey Knights' arcane rites.
No resurrection. No salvation. Just judgment.
Corwin then uploaded the trial footage to the High Lords' comm channel and reported to Eden.
With the psy-network now established, Eden had made a group chat for the High Lords.
Apparently, it was called… "the group."
Eden and Mohr were the administrators.
This wasn't for formal business, but rather for quick updates or casual coordination.
Formal meetings and classified operations would still go through other psychic systems.
For the most important matters, the Senate was still the main venue—with Eden attending virtually when absent.
Ding—
"Emperor above… did something come in?"
Corwin quickly checked the group.
The Savior had reviewed the footage and replied with a thumbs-up emoji, praising his work.
Corwin rushed to respond—posting glowing praise of the Savior.
The other High Lords copied and pasted his message, forming a neat, familiar pattern.
Though… she was late.
Her message looked awkward and out of place.
Realizing this, she quickly deleted it and reposted the same praise as everyone else.
Except…
In her nervousness, she accidentally sent a sarcastic emoji.
It looked… disrespectful.
The channel went dead silent.
"…."
Eidiah, unaccustomed to this kind of communication, was mortified.
This was harder than assassination.
Luckily, the Savior responded shortly after—giving her a virtual pat on the back and praising the Assassinorum.
The tension eased.
...
Saints' Sanctuary
"Having a group chat really is convenient."
Eden chuckled as he closed the interface, then gently snuggled against Saint Celestine, her soft form and white wings radiating warmth.
He couldn't bring himself to let go.
This kind of sincere emotional connection was better than… well, other things.
Even if it was mostly one-sided.
Later, he also secretly worked with the Geminae Superia on certain "structural studies."
The twin angelic sisters had become bolder—but nothing too out of line. Just… curious.
Eden felt a little ashamed.
His life, for a Chosen of Slaanesh, was surprisingly tame.
He decided to stay a little longer with Celestine.
...
Private Chamber
Eden held the Saint's hand as they stepped onto a terrace, looking out over the hive sprawl.
A gentle rain was falling.
It might be the first rainfall on Holy Terra in millennia—a synthetic miracle, imbued with purification chemicals meant to cleanse the world.
"Savior… Terra has changed so much…"
Celestine's eyes shimmered with light. The man she loved had reshaped the Throneworld.
Countless lives had been pulled from the abyss.
"This is only the beginning."
Eden looked out across the masses.
Some rejoiced. Others stood in confusion—many had never even seen rain before.
Beyond political reform, Eden intended to physically remake Holy Terra.
A monumental project.
It would begin with rebuilding the water cycle.
Once enough pollution was cleared, freshwater would be imported—starting a new circulation system.
Thanks to the Webway, desalinated water from a distant ocean world would be brought in.
Real soil, lakes, and even wildlife would follow—restoring streams and ponds, rebuilding ecosystems.
Nothing massive, though.
No oceans—Terra had no space left for that.
But once a foundational ecology was in place, greenification could begin during the demolition-rebuild phase.
Soon, Terra's air would no longer be choked with poison and filth.
The reconstruction, cleanup, and greening of Terra would take at least five years.
During that time, several Holy Spires would be erected—so all of Terra could bask in the light of the sacred sun.
When all was said and done, the former decrepit Throneworld would become a world reborn.
...
Five Years Later
Holy Terra – Lion's Gate Orbital Anchorage
Zoom—
A battered destroyer exited the warp into Holy Terra's space. Its hull was scarred by battle, even marred by the marks of forbidden weaponry.
This was a Deathwatch vessel.
The Deathwatch was the Inquisition's elite alien-hunting force—distinct from the Grey Knights.
Founded to counter and exterminate xenos threats, all Astartes assigned to the Deathwatch repainted their armor black and swore to use any means to destroy alien life.
Bridge
"We've arrived. We made it back."
The company's executive officer spoke with relief.
Captain Arthus stared ahead, his voice heavy with emotion.
Their last mission—sent by the Inquisition—had been to investigate a group of Drukhari raiders.
But it was a trap.
The void fortress they had entered had been a sacrificial offering to the xenos—sucked into the Webway by unknown means.
They barely escaped—and traversed the warp to return to Terra.
"We must warn the Imperium… Commorragh is even more terrifying than anyone imagines."
That thought burned in Arthus' mind.
The blast shutters on the viewport lifted.
The Deathwatch marines saw it—the planet below.
A green world bathed in golden light… clouds white as snow drifting across a cerulean sky.
"…Emperor preserve us—is that Holy Terra?!"
The marines stood stunned.
They'd only been gone ten years.
How the hell had the Throneworld changed so much?
"…The warp route must've been disrupted," Arthus said gravely.
"This could be another xenos illusion—trying to trick us again…"
"What do we do then? Turn around?"
Arthus clenched his jaw.
"No. Select a team. We're going down to investigate.
Stay on high alert—prepare for combat at any time!"
(End of Chapter)
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