A piercing scream tore through the Sanctum Imperialis.
The cries of Magnus the pony echoed throughout the Great Throne Room, his agonizing sound reverberating through the entire Imperial Palace.
His body convulsed violently as a nimbus of psychic energy flickered and sparked across his skin.
The pain was excruciating, an agony impossible to describe with mere words, a torment that transcended the very limits of mortal comprehension. It was a torture of both flesh and spirit.
The moment Magnus sat upon the Golden Throne, its arcane machineries had roared to life. His psychic abilities were indeed amplified, but this amplification came with a torment so profound that his consciousness began to fray.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing? The three existential questions swam through the vortex of his mind.
"Steel yourself, my son. Endure it."
The Emperor immediately placed a hand on his shoulder, and a current of golden psychic energy flowed into Magnus, enveloping him.
"Hold on! The first surge is the most painful!" the Emperor's voice cut through the chaos in Magnus's mind, "Focus your mind. You can overcome this."
Magnus gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead bulging. He had never experienced such a maelstrom of pain. It felt as though every cell in his body was being shredded by Warp energies, every nerve set alight by psychic flame. His eye was wide with terror, his pupil reflecting a million fractured vistas of the Immaterium.
"Father," Magnus managed to force the words out, "This is… more painful… than I ever imagined."
"I know," the Emperor's voice carried a rare tone of gentleness, "But you must push through it. Imagine your psychic power as a great dam. You must guide it, channel this new strength, and let it amplify your abilities infinitely. Accept this power."
Magnus nodded and, following his father's instructions, began to command his own psychic energies.
In that moment, he felt his power swell to dozens of times its normal strength. Feats that were once impossible were now within his effortless grasp.
"I cannot believe you sat here for months, Father. How… how did you ever endure it?" Magnus asked, his brow slick with cold sweat as he turned to face the Emperor.
He had only just taken his seat and was already on the verge of breaking, yet his father had withstood this for months.
But the figure that met his gaze was not the father he knew, not the majestic, towering being he revered.
Standing before Magnus was a middle-aged man of average height, perhaps a little over six feet tall. His face was unremarkable, so plain that he would be utterly lost in any crowd.
Was this his father? It couldn't be.
The Emperor was nearly five meters tall, with a countenance of handsome, statuesque perfection, as if all the truths of the universe were manifest in his form. He was a god.
"Father, you… why do you look like this?" Magnus stared in disbelief at the man who barely reached his abdomen.
"Your psychic potential is now magnified dozens of times over, and it will only grow stronger the longer you remain upon this throne," the Emperor explained, "What you see now is my true form. My previous, grander appearance was a projection, a glamour woven from psychic power. My foolish child, think about it. What normal human could ever reach a height of five meters?"
He had been born to ordinary human parents, not as a giant from birth.
He had maintained that colossal form to present himself as a savior to mankind, to make them believe he was different, and to ensure that his Primarchs saw no difference between themselves and their father.
"But…"
"Psychic power is the most irrational force in this universe, a power that defies the very laws of physics and science. Of course, we must now also add the Ki energy of Axis to that list. What is it? Are you so surprised to see your father's true face?" the Emperor asked.
"No, Father, I… well, yes. I am very surprised," Magnus admitted with a weary sigh.
"Do not be deceived by what you perceive with your eyes, my child," the Emperor continued.
His body had been tempered not only by psychic power but also refined by the absolute zenith of human genetic engineering.
Beyond that, it had been strengthened for ten years by the Ki energy of Axis, and he had later consumed the Fruit of the Spirit Tree that Axis had given him. In terms of raw physical might, he far surpassed any of the Primarchs.
Only Axis could be considered his equal. Even if his sons consumed the same fruit, their physical forms would still be a pale imitation of his own and that of Axis.
"But this is no time for idle talk, Magnus. Your power has been enhanced. I need you to join me in repairing the Webway. We must seal every breach that has been torn open," the Emperor stated, his tone shifting back to one of command.
"I understand, Father. What must I do?" Magnus asked, nodding.
"I will teach you, my son. Do not worry. Clear your mind, guide your psychic energies, and feel for the seam between reality and the Warp. Then, use your strength to mend it. I will be with you," the Emperor instructed.
With Magnus's help, their combined psychic might could finally begin to repair the sundered Webway.
Magnus closed his eye.
With his senses amplified dozens of times over, he could for the first time clearly perceive the full scale of the Webway.
It was a vast network constructed of pure energy, spreading like a vascular system throughout the galaxy and even extending beyond it.
Below Terra, however, a gaping wound hemorrhaged Chaos energy. It was like a torn artery, spewing a ceaseless torrent of Warp-stuff into the delicate structure.
If not for the Emperor's power, the rift would have already grown catastrophically larger.
"This… is far worse than I imagined," Magnus's psychic presence trembled.
"Focus, my son," the Emperor's own power formed a golden bulwark against the surging tide of Chaos, "We will begin by establishing a quarantine barrier."
Their two immense psychic signatures intertwined, weaving a great net of psychic energy. Like a craftsman's needle and thread, they began to stitch the tear in the Webway closed.
The plan seemed to be proceeding smoothly, but the Ruinous Powers of the Warp would not allow the Emperor his victory so easily.
An ancient, terrifying will descended, battering against their work. The first assault came as a tide of blood-red power.
"Beware the Gods of the Warp!" the Emperor warned.
A crimson wave of Chaotic energy crashed down, and Magnus felt his consciousness nearly shatter under the impact.
"No… I can't hold it… Father," his psychic shield flickered unstably.
The terrible will of the Chaos God sought to overwhelm his mind, and the Emperor swiftly diverted his own energy to help Magnus fend it off.
But he was quickly followed by an onslaught of purple, green, and then blue energies. In an instant, father and son found themselves besieged by all four of the great Chaos Gods.
"Remember your training on Prospero!" the Emperor's voice boomed like a colossal bell, "Transmute this pain into strength! We must succeed!"
Magnus's thoughts flew back to his psychic exercises on his homeworld, to the meditation techniques he had once considered mere trifles.
Now, they took on a profound new meaning. He adjusted the frequency of his power, letting his energy flow in a calm, rhythmic pulse, like breathing. He joined it with the Emperor's golden power to form a single, unified barrier, protecting their minds.
"Good, Magnus. Now, with me. Imagine you are a weaver, and the energies of the Chaos Gods are merely threads to be woven. Ignore their power; our shield will hold them back. Come, join me," the Emperor began to guide Magnus step by step, their wills joined in mending the fissure torn by the Warp.
Together, their combined strength was brought to bear upon the gaping breach.
As time flowed on, Magnus gradually mastered the technique.
He was astonished to find that, amplified by the Golden Throne, he truly could transmute the raw stuff of Chaos into material to mend the Webway. The wound began to heal at a rate visible to the naked eye.
"We… are we doing it?" Magnus asked in disbelief.
"This is only the beginning," the Emperor's voice was filled with a satisfaction he had not felt in a very long time. "But you have proven yourself, my son. Your will is strong."
Deep within the Webway, Axis was locked in a battle with endless legions of daemons when he suddenly noticed that the breach to the Warp seemed to have shrunk.
It appeared the Emperor and Magnus had begun their work. Just then, Axis saw four immense claws tear into the edges of the breach, trying to hold it open, one red, one purple, one green, and one blue. From the direction of the Golden Throne, two golden torrents of psychic power surged forth.
The twin psychic lances formed a radiant pillar of light that pierced the deepest recesses of the Webway.
There, at the nexus between reality and the Immaterium, a seal of incandescent golden-red energy began to form. As the last thread of power was woven into place, a collective roar of fury from the Chaos Gods shook the very foundations of the Webway.
Magnus opened his eye, utterly exhausted, his robes soaked through with sweat.
To his amazement, his psychic sight confirmed that the Warp rift beneath the Palace had indeed begun to close.
His and his father's power had woven a great seal, but the four colossal claws still clung to the edges of the tear, relentlessly battering against their work.
"Rest now, my son," the Emperor said, patting his shoulder gently, "We will continue tomorrow. Repairing the Webway will be a long and arduous process."
At that moment, Axis finally withdrew from the Webway.
To Magnus, the monumental task of weaving the seal had felt like an instant, but in reality, three days had passed.
Axis had been fighting a bloody battle in there for four days and three nights.