Darius hesitated for a moment before replying, "No. My ancestor died on the battlefield. He… he was struck in the chest, a direct and honorable death, just as he would have wanted."
Kayvaan closed his eyes, steadying the storm of emotions churning within him. After a long silence, he opened them again and spoke, his tone measured. "Yes, you are indeed my soldier. So, Darius, what brings you here? You're the only one who has visited me recently, and I doubt it was easy for you to arrange this meeting."
Darius nodded, his expression serious. "It wasn't easy at all. There are layers of approvals and countless procedures to go through. Even after getting clearance, the meeting time is strictly limited. Today, I only have half an hour. But I assure you, this level of supervision won't last much longer. In about two months, the restrictions should be lifted. Please understand—it's a matter of protocol. I appreciate your patience."
Kayvaan's face remained calm as he replied, "I didn't say it's a bad thing. In fact, it's quite fitting for me right now. I spend my days reading and basking in the sun, giving me time to reacquaint myself with this changed galaxy."
Darius's face softened with relief. "I'm glad you feel that way. The High Lords have already started discussing your situation. Once they reach a decision, they'll step in. I believe your freedom isn't far off."
Hearing this, Kayvaan's brows furrowed slightly. The mention of the High Lords brought back memories he had tried to leave behind. He had severed ties with such authority long ago—why would they concern themselves with him now, after nine thousand years? However, he quickly dismissed the thought. Speculating wouldn't change anything. Some matters required patience. "I understand. That's good news," Kayvaan said, his tone neutral. "But surely you didn't come here just to deliver that?"
"Of course not," Darius said, a faint smile curving his lips. He reached into his bag and carefully pulled out a small metal box. Holding it as though it were a sacred relic, he placed it on the table in front of Kayvaan. "I came to bring you this. Please, open it."
Kayvaan's eyes lingered on the box. Its design was familiar—classical, even ancient by today's standards. Yet, he didn't touch it. Instead, he asked, "What is it?"
"This," Darius said solemnly, "is the Emperor's reward."
"The Emperor's reward?" Kayvaan asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
"Yes. During the Great Betrayal, when the traitor Horus led his forces to the gates of the Imperial Palace, the Emperor emerged victorious but suffered grievous injuries. After the war, he made his final arrangements and ascended to the Golden Throne, where he remains even now."
Kayvaan already knew this story. It was the first thing he had studied after passing the scrutiny of the Ordo Malleus and being confined here. He had requested books—many books. Learning about the state of the Imperium through its history was his priority, and he had absorbed as much as possible.
Among the accounts that captured his attention, the final battle stood out most vividly. The Imperium had triumphed, but beneath the surface of those triumphant words lay grim truths. Kayvaan had learned to read between the lines, uncovering the raw and often ugly realities masked by glorified narratives.
The fall of the outer defenses was swift, and the gates of the Imperial Palace had nearly been breached by Chaos. The defenders were forced into desperate retreats. Kayvaan had uncovered a forbidden record, one heavily censored, but its remaining fragments painted a haunting picture.
"The mile-wide walls of the Imperial Palace were more than defensive barriers—they housed workshops, armories, and living quarters. Bloody battles raged through these halls, and soon, rivers of blood ran ankle-deep, mingling the lifeblood of loyal Imperial soldiers with that of traitors. Not far away, at the Lion's Gate Spaceport, wave after wave of Chaos Space Marines landed, swelling the enemy ranks. The fall of humanity's last fortress seemed inevitable."
Kayvaan's thoughts often lingered on Sanguinius's final stand. Stationed at the Eternity Gate with his Blood Angels, Sanguinius stood as the last bulwark against Chaos. The enemy hurled everything they had at him. Alone, Sanguinius faced a monstrous bloodthirster and countless traitors, holding the line long enough for the remaining defenders to retreat. His sacrifice was both noble and heart-wrenching, his life taken by Horus in a clash of unimaginable power.
Kayvaan had also read that Horus, desperate to end the conflict, had ordered the shields of his flagship lowered, inviting the Emperor to confront him directly. The gamble had cost Horus his life and ended the rebellion, but it left the Emperor mortally wounded. The Chaos forces, leaderless, had fled into the Eye of Terror, abandoning their doomed followers.
Though victorious, the Emperor had not recovered. To preserve his existence, He was entombed within the Golden Throne, neither alive nor truly dead—a silent sentinel watching over humanity.
Kayvaan's thoughts were interrupted by Darius's clear voice: "After being gravely injured, the Emperor insisted on carrying out his duties. He personally rewarded loyal warriors and passed judgment on traitors. The reward meant for you was presented during that time. My ancestor, Alen, safeguarded it in your absence. The moment you woke up, ancient protocols were triggered, and we were notified. I've worked tirelessly to meet you in person to hand this over."
Even though Kayvaan's feelings for the Emperor were not as deeply rooted as his mentor's, Darius's words struck him deeply. For a moment, he sat in silence as tears welled in his eyes. He made no effort to stop them.
Nine thousand years may have passed, but the Empire had not forgotten its warriors. In that moment, Kayvaan felt as though time itself had collapsed. Through the ancient box, he was transported back to the day of victory. He could almost see the Emperor, bloodied yet resolute, seated in the grand hall as He honored the loyal and judged the fallen. Every sacrifice had been recognized. Every loyal warrior, living or dead, had been acknowledged.
For a ruler like that, how could any soldier not give their last breath?
Kayvaan reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed the surface of the box. It was as though he were touching a relic of immeasurable value. "What's inside?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
"We don't know," Darius replied with a gentle smile. "The Emperor did not specify the contents of the reward. Our family never opened it, nor would we dare to. It is yours to unveil."
Kayvaan said nothing further. He wiped his tears, took a deep breath, and broke the ancient seal. Carefully, he opened the box with the reverence of one unveiling something sacred.