Emperor je hteo da i od Bala napravi industrial hell ali Sangi nije dao.
Faith is a weapon, said the Emperor. A weapon that the species cannot be trusted to wield.
My people revere me as their god, Sanguinius replied. ‘That brings them a measure of peace. No doubt to you and your sky-sailing kind, we are nothing but primitives. Roaches in this poisoned desert. But I reward their faith in me. I am their servant. I am mercy when my people need it most, and I am death to their enemies.
That does not make you a god, my son.
I never said I was a god. I said my people believe me to be one.
Sanguinius stared into his father’s inhuman, too-human eyes.
My people, the Pure, are to be left in peace. Whatever pacts you and I swear this day, my inviolate condition is this – no ship will enter Baalfora’s heavens without my mandate, and no interference will be permitted to the Clans of Pure Blood without my permission. We have carved out the solace of peace here, together. You will not threaten it, father.
The Emperor nodded, not in agreement, but in sudden understanding. That is why you fear me, is it not? You fear the endangerment of what you have achieved here.
I speak of loyalty and love, the Angel said gently. And you speak of achievement.
Am I wrong? asked the Emperor.
I fear for the lives of my people, who deserve only peace. A peace we have fought so hard for. Behind your words, I hear the triumph of cultures that see you as their saviour. But I also hear the razing of cities and the burning of worlds. I hear the dirges of faiths now forbidden, and the mourning of those nations that followed them. Am I wrong?
The Emperor said nothing.
I want something from you. I want your oath.
The Emperor was silent, allowing His son to continue.
Do you swear, on whatever oaths hold value to you, that you will leave the Clans of Pure Blood in peace? Untouched by your designs unless they desire otherwise. Free to exist as they already exist, believing whatever they choose to believe.
The Emperor hesitated. Sanguinius saw the calculation in his father’s eyes, and he wondered: is He taken aback by the love I bear for my people, or is He merely considering alternate avenues around this obstacle in His Great Work?
The Emperor finally spoke. You have my promise.
Sanguinius closed his wings. Then let us speak of the future, father.
And so, they did.