986.M41 Unknown location
Jarod blinked awake, staring up at the clear blue sky. He moved to get up, and found that he was no longer wearing his standard carapace armor and greatcoat, instead, he wore a deep maroon set of bedrobes. He was surprised at his situation, taking a second to look around his new surroundings. He stood in an open, grassy field that seemed to go for miles on end, stretching beyond the horizon. It was only broken by the occasional oak tree, something that seemed to enhance its natural beauty.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice asked from behind him.
Jarod spun around quickly to find a man standing a few meters behind him, smiling warmly. The man stood at roughly two meters tall, wearing a golden version of Jarod's own robes that seemed to fit the giant man perfectly. His brown hair reached his shoulders, and his skin was a very tanned white.
It was his eyes that caught Jarod the most though. Bright blue orbs that seemed to stare into his very soul, making Jarod shudder involuntarily.
The man scoffed, "You have no need to fear me, my son. There is nothing that can harm you here, and even if I wished I doubt I could even lay a finger on you in my current state."
Jarod blinked, unsure of what to say before he finally found what seemed like a decent question, "Are you the Emperor?" he asked.
The man chuckled, "Yes, yes I am."
"You're an asshole," Jarod said suddenly, making the Emperor's brow rise slightly.
"I will admit, that is not quite the reaction I expected…"
"You let the Horus heresy happen! You were a terrible father! You were a Tyrant! How much more of an asshole can you be!?" Jarod exclaimed.
The Emperor sighed, "I suppose you are at least aware of previous mistakes. More so than the rest of humanity." He muttered to himself.
"I mean, you kinda caused the Horus Heresy to happen. Everything you did basically supported it. I mean, I get trying to keep the knowledge of Chaos limited, that's not really the issue though. The issue is the lengths you went to in order to divide the Primarchs. You didn't tell anyone about the Imperial webway, you had Guilliman burn Monarchia, you took Angron away from his brothers in arms for what essentially amounted to a cheap laugh, you tricked Mortarion, and you didn't think to give Konrad a lesson in morality and restraint!" Jarod ranted, "And that's not even half the Primarchs!"
The Emperor sighed a second time, and this time his shoulders slumped, "I will be the first to admit that I have been a horrible excuse for a father. I see that now, but at the time, I had sealed away my own morality and compassion in order to better guide humanity. I see now how terrible a mistake that was."
Jarod took his own turn to sigh, "And it took you ten thousand years to realize that?"
"Infuriatingly enough, no, it only took a few decades. Unfortunately, by the time I realized my mistake, it was far, far too late." He said, closing his eyes and bowing his head.
"Which further begs the question," Jarod began, "How are you talking to me right now? You're supposed to be a barely alive corpse sitting on the golden throne. What's it costing you to talk to me right now?"
"Thankfully, not as much as you might think. Our contact was possible because you reached the limit, or what you thought was the limit of your own power. You exceeded what you were capable of, and unlocked your true potential." Explained the Emperor.
Jarod groaned, "So, what, I'm a Mary Sue now? Unlimited power, stupid levels of strength, and a harem of women coming after me?"
The Emperor chuckled, "Not quite. You are one of my descendants Jarod, specifically, my great-grandson."
It was at that moment that Jarod began to short-circuit.
"Wha?"
"It is good to finally meet you." He said with a warm smile.
Jarod took a few minutes to process the information, before another question came to mind, "So what does that mean exactly? That I have 1/8th of your power? I mean, that's nice and all, but… now what?"
The Emperor laughed again, "Do you realize how much 1/8th is my son?" Jarod shook his head, "With your level of power, should you feel the need to use it, you could make a star cease to exist."
Jarod blinked, and the Emperor continued.
"There are only a handful of people as powerful as you. Myself, Magnus, a few of the surviving Sensei, and one other in a similar position to yourself." He explained.
"Let me guess, you want me to try and fix the Imperium?" Jarod asked.
"Well, that would be the end goal I suppose, but even I can see that such a thing is not something one can do in humanities current state. No, I want you to become stronger. I want you to do what I could not. I want you to end Chaos."
Jarod sucked in a breath, realizing the implications of what the Emperor was asking. To end chaos? To destroy the Ruinous Powers?
"What makes you think such a thing is even possible, to begin with?" Jarod asked.
The Emperor smiled, turning to face Jarod, "I believe our time is running short, and I am not able to keep the connection up for very long. I'm sure you will be able to figure it out."
The world around Jarod began to blur, and as Jarod held out his hand toward the Emperor's form, he felt himself fall backward, his consciousness leaving him.
The Emperor smiled sadly as he watched his great-grandson's form fade from the landscape that formed his own mind. He regretted so much, but perhaps, Jarod might be able to succeed where he had so spectacularly failed.
[-----]
986.M41 Raxis Prime
Karev led the charge against the remaining heretic Astartes and cultists, his sword and bolt-pistol cutting through flesh with ease. He felt the strength of the Emperor himself running through his very soul, and if the warcry of the guardsmen beside him was anything to go by, then they did as well.
The daemon's had long since been banished by Jarod's immense power, and the warp rift that had been causing such destruction was slowly closing. This merely left the traitors to be cut down by the Inquisitor and the men under his command.
It would have been disturbing had he been in any other state of mind, the way that the cultists simply screamed in agony or stared off into the distance in a shell-shocked fashion. The traitor marines were not much better, barely taking action to defend themselves against the hordes of men that charged toward them.
Jarod's guardsmen were at the head of the pack, their weapons being a step above whatever the guardsmen under Karev's command were using. Fiery beams of white light shot forth, burning through even Astartes war plate, showing just how much of an advantage Karev had been given.
Jarod himself was another matter entirely.
The rogue trader was a blur of speed, his power sword cutting through flesh and armor like it was nothing, leaving behind a trail of white flame. He fought silently, never uttering a single word or warcry.
Within minutes, they reclaimed the lines of defense that had been set up to defend their mountain stronghold. Within an hour they were nearing the mesa, where the warp rift was at its most terrifying. Within a day, they had killed or driven back every servent of the ruinous powers that once stood on the planet of Raxis Prime.
Jarod personally oversaw the warp rift, and with a show of extreme power, closed it. White fire surrounded the rift, and in less than a minute, nothing remained of the cursed door to the immaterium.
Any psykers within range had felt the power that Jarod possessed, and many said that wherever he went, the daemons in the warp seemed to flee from his presence. It was as if he were anathema to them.
When the warp rift finally closed, Jarod collapsed, as if from exhaustion. A handful of guardsmen were close enough that he did not hit the ground, and the group carried him to the medical tent nearby. When the medics looked him over, they concluded that he had no injuries, and his state of unconsciousness was due to nothing more than exhaustion. He was asleep for over a day, giving the Inquisitor and the rest of the guardsmen plenty of time to clean up the corpses of the traitors and Xenos.
The traitor's bodies and armor were odd, as they were completely void of any chaotic mutation. It was clear that physical modifications had been made to the weapons and armor of the Astartes, but beyond that nothing appeared wrong with them. It was strange, but Karev ordered their destruction regardless.
When Jarod finally awoke, he seemed highly concerned.
"What do you mean you don't remember?" Karev asked as he sat across from Jarod. The two of them sat in the medical tent, with Jarod sitting on his cot and Karev sitting on a chair across from him.
"I mean, the second I blew that daemon apart I blacked out. Whatever I did after that, I have no memory of." He explained. Karev hummed thoughtfully, and was about to continue speaking before Jarod interrupted him, "But… I did have a vision."
Karev's eyes lit up, and he gazed at Jarod sincerely, "What did you see?"
Jarod smiled, "Well, if the state of my mind was anything to go by during the battle, then I had a meeting with the Emperor himself." He answered.
Karev blinked, stunned for a moment, "I'm sorry wot?"
"When I blacked out, I had a meeting with the Emperor. Evidently, my psychic power was enough to reach the golden throne itself, thus resulting in the Emperor being able to contact me personally." Jarod explained.
Karev's mind was spinning at Jarod's revelation, and he initially wondered if what Jarod was saying could possibly be true. Wasn't such a possibility considered heresy of the highest order? But then, the living saint's existed, and what himself and the guardsmen felt during the battle seemed so… pure.
"If what you are saying is true… then, what does this mean? Where do we go from here?" He asked.
Jarod chuckled, standing from his bed, "Well, I guess the first step would be to start fixing this mess of an Imperium before anything else. There's… a lot, that's going to happen in the near future. And if nothing else, I could use a few allies." he said, holding his hand out to Karev.
Standing from his seat, Karev smiled and shook the Sensei's hand, "Well, with everything I have seen in recent time, I do believe that I can see myself joining your escapade."
Jarod grinned, 'As two warp beings are fond of saying… Just. As. Planned.'
[-----]
986.M41 Aurorum III
Michael sighed as he napped underneath the wraithbone tree in the park. It was a nice, warm day. Kiara was busy playing with the few other kids on the craftworld, Jarod was off doing Rogue Trader stuff, Elirom was busy meeting with the council, and all of that left Michael with little to do but relax.
"It seems you have no quarrel in lazing about while your betters spend the day working." An arrogant, slightly-snobby voice stated in front of him.
Michael tilted his head up, opening one eye to see who had spoken. As usual, Salah, the Exarch of the Howling Banshee's was finding some way to criticize him.
"You know, if you spent less time working and more time relaxing, you might actually understand what it is I'm doing," Michael explained, leaning back again.
"And such 'relaxation' serves some kind of purpose?" she asked, "Besides avoiding your responsibilities?"
Michael chuckled, "It's what you do when you don't have any responsibilities, like now."
Salah raised a single eyebrow, "You say you have no responsibilities? Then where is Kiara? Why are you not keeping an eye on her?"
"She's playing with the other kids. Besides, it's not like she's in any danger, and even if she does somehow get in trouble, she knows where I am." He explained, making Salah's eye twitch.
"You truly are insufferable you know?"
"It's part of my charm," Michel said with a smirk.
Michael leaned forward again, opening his eyes fully, "So, did you come here just to antagonize me, or did you have some other reason?" he asked.
Salah pinched the bridge of her nose, before letting out a long sigh, "Much as it pains me to admit it… I require your assistance. The council has been informed of Kiara's situation, and have assigned me as her caretaker. Unfortunately, you are the only person she as of yet seems to trust. Because of this, I require your help in gaining her trust." she explained.
Within the black library, Cegorach idly wondered why there was a human giving him such praise.
"You find such a situation humorous!?" she demanded, her fists clenched as Michael rolled on the ground laughing.
Michael's laughter slowed, and he wiped a tear from his eye, "Hoo, oh wow, I'm sorry but just… wow, do you realize just how condescending you sound? I mean, I get it, I'm just some lowly Mon'kiegh, but… come on, if you wanted my help you could ask nicely at the very least."
Salah, almost exploding in a fit of rage, sighed, releasing the tension within her body, "Well, would you please assist me in gaining her trust?" she asked painfully.
Michael chuckled, shaking his head slightly, "Well, with pleas for help like that, how could I refuse?"
Salah groaned but refrained from saying anything else.
Michael led Salah to where Kiara was playing with the other children, who's parent's soon noticed Michael and began removing their children from the area. Kiara frowned at first, before she spun around and rushed toward Michael, leaping into his arms. Michael caught her with practiced ease, laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Did'ja miss me?" Michael asked.
Kiara giggled, "You weren't even that far away!"
Salah tried to find a good opening in their banter to explain the situation but soon found it impossible to break into their banter. The two spoke with practiced ease, and Salah took note of the fact that the young Aeldari girl was speaking low Gothic fairly fluently… for more fluently then was normal.
Such an effect wasn't unprecedented, as Eldar children were quite adept at learning, but it made Salah wonder just how long the girl had spent with Michael. She was broken out of her thoughts when she found Kiara standing in front of her.
"Why is Tsundere lady here?" she asked idly.