This is how it feels to be the Emperor of Mankind...
You are in pain. Pain both physical and emotional. The pain forever takes you, refusing to let you go. You want to cry out to aliviete it at least, but you can't find it with you to do so. As you are found by your son Rogal, he helps you up, carrying you back to the Imperial Palace. You want to say something, but you can't. You want to scream, but you can never find the voice to do so. You could feel your heart slow down, most of your organs begin the slow process to shut down. Yet you can't close your eyes, because your torment has not yet ended.
As you're hurried to the medical wing of the Imperial Palace, they try to do everything to keep you alive, trying to hold back the pain, even if it means for a few seconds. They can't get you out of your armor, so its removed surgically. The best medics in the Imperium do their best to keep you alive, they do this selflessly, pushing themselves over their limits. Even your personal Physician is desperate and you could see it. In the end, they managed to keep you alive...but it will be temporary.
As you're wheeled in to the Golden Throne, you see Malcador in his final moments. As he sees you, he smiles, knowing that he had done his duty, not just as a governor, but as a friend. You watch him turn into dust.
He is gone.
He is dead.
But his sacrifice would never be forgotten.
Your only friend. No, more than that.
He was like the brother you never had. He was the one who you could trust with your most deepest of secrets. The one who you could turn to when you had your moments of self-doubt.
And now, he was dust...nothingness.
And with the last of your inner strenght, you tell Rogal on how to turn the Golden Throne into a life-support device. You could feel your son tense up. But its alright, it will be alright, everything will be alright.
You don't know how long it took, but it was done. Helped up, you are sat into the Machine that will sustain you. Mechanisms hardwired into your body will keep you alive for the time being. You flash back to your life before all this. The pain subsides for now...
You think of your goals for Humanity...the final evolution of the human race...it would of all been so simple. A galaxy for mankind. Where human potential has been reached. A fully psychic race, better than the damned Eldar whose decadences and arrogance created the Chaos God Slaanesh. Humanity would of have it all. There would of been no threats both interal and external. At last, humanity would of have peace...true peace so they could develop as the Emperor hoped.
But it didn't happen...
As you look back and think...you realized what went wrong.
Ignorance of the dangers of Chaos.
There were no gods or deities out there, as you crusaded across Terra and brought down the last sites of worship. When the Chaotic Pantheon snatched the Primarchs, your sons away, your plans accelerated. The Great Crusade started, and whatever world you went through, you ordered all signs of religion to be destroyed. If you destroyed religion, then, the Powers of Chaos would be destroyed. They'd have nothing to feed them, nothing to give them strenght. But in the end, it only did the opposite.
But it was much worse...you never told your sons about Chaos and its corrupting influence. What they didn't know, it wouldn't hurt them.
How wrong was I.
You should of seen it. Fulgrim's new sword from the Laer homeworld, how he was slowly changing. Magnus' bargain with Tzeentch to save his Legion from the pains of mutation. Lorgar who grew in a world of religion, writing that damned book and considering you a god, but when you told him that you were not a god, that's when the Four got to him...rather than seeing the light, he went forth to the darkness.
And now he understood why.
Because the darkness understood Lorgar. The darkness gave him comfort. The shadow of those four helped him through the worst moments of his life. The darkness is now what he has, now and forever.
Sitting on the Machine-Throne, you brace yourself for the nightmare to come. So deep in the Warp, you can hear the Four laugh and gloat. For they have achieved a victory like no other. But in your steadfast resolve, you vow you will look after mankind. You will ensure that their predations and schemes will never come to fruition. You will remain vigilant, forever trapped in a state between life and death.
It is the ultimate sacrifice.
The greatest of mercies.
The pain comes slowly, it will kill you soon. You could feel your body slowly dying. Every second of it is a torture beyond imagination. But yet you persist. You persist because you have lived for 50,000 years. You persist because you never quitted at anything.
And then you remember the words of your mother so long ago...when you were just a child. You could remember her helping you up. You could see her face and the wise words that came out of her.
Don't give up.
And those words echo in your mind as the pain continues to assault you.
While your flame burns in your campfire heart.
The darkness may have won this. It was patient and waited it out.
But in the heart of its strenght, in the center of all its force and magnitude lies its only weakness.
One lone flame is enough to hold it back.
Compassion, mercy, self-lessness, and love are more than a flame.
These virtues can ignite the stars.