In the eyes of the people, the silver-haired angel Saint Celestine was a pure and virtuous saint.
She was believed to possess almost no worldly desire, only an unshakable will to fight.
That being was an immortal Living Saint, one who could be reborn again and again from death, returning in radiant light to carry on the Emperor's will and continue the battle against humanity's enemies.
But what people didn't know was that every ti the silver-haired angel was reborn, she had to endure agonizing tornt.
She had to traverse a nightmare realm of the Warp, confront her doubts and fears, and piece her shattered armor back together from atop a mountain of her own corpses—
—Only then could her fragnted self be restored.
And only then would she return to the world in a burst of psychic radiance, once again becoming the unyielding, saintly silver-haired angel.
In truth, Saint Celestine's soul had long been burdened to the brink, riddled with scars and nearing collapse.
Deep within her psyche—
The manifestation of her soul took the form of a little girl trapped within a frozen nightmare cage, unable to break free.
Until more than half a century ago, during the Battle of Macragge, when the Savior descended beside the silver-haired angel—and saved her.
A warm and gentle force entered the deepest recesses of her heart and took the form of a great white bear, healing her soul.
It was a sensation she had never experienced before.
Since then, Saint Celestine began to dream of the Savior again and again. Her mind slowly regained its light… and slowly fell.
That figure beca deeply etched into her heart.
…
In Her Private Chamber
The dwelling of Saint Celestine the Living Saint remained simple and sparse. But it had changed.
Gone was the cold austerity of before—now, scattered throughout were soft, exquisite plush white bears.
It was difficult to imagine that the silver-haired angel—who regularly bathed in the blood of battle atop mountains of corpses—would be fond of such childlike plush creations.
But to her, they represented the Savior.
Each night, she slept in the midst of these white bears, holding the largest one in her arms.
It was like embracing a warm light, like being surrounded by the Savior's scent.
And now, Saint Celestine sat once more at the edge of her bed, hugging that largest plush bear.
Her expression was as noble and cold as ever, like a saintly angel beyond the reach of mortals.
But in her heart—there was a trace of anticipation and joy.
Because she was about to see the Savior.
"Savior… you wouldn't hate , would you?" she whispered as she gently pinched the chubby face of the plush bear, talking to it like it were him.
Her snow-white wings trembled slightly, and a faint blush flickered across her pale cheeks.
She had to admit it—she liked the Savior. She longed to be near him. At tis… even forbidden thoughts would rise up.
And for this, Saint Celestine felt ashad.
She believed herself to be a terrible person—defiling such a righteous, pure, and just being as the Primarch of Hope.
That man was like a ray of light, illuminating countless souls.
To harbor such blasphemous thoughts was unforgivable.
Yet she couldn't stop thinking them.
Of course, Saint Celestine had also occasionally heard rumors about the Savior.
So whispered he had built a massive harem for his own pleasure; that every ti he conquered a new star system, he chose the most beautiful among them to share his bed; that he even committed heretical acts, bedding eighteen daemonettes in a single night.
But she knew—those were lies and slander from evil cults seeking to corrupt the Savior's image and destroy the people's faith in their symbol of justice.
She never doubted it.
Because she had felt the Savior's soul with her own senses—pure, spotless, and so brilliant even she, a holy angel, could only look up to it.
She would not dare defile it.
Especially when that being had recently endured Slaanesh's torture for the sake of mankind and had never once submitted.
He was the second sun—next to the Emperor Himself.
That's what Saint Celestine believed. A touch of awe glead in her pale blue eyes.
And yet… those hidden, blasphemous thoughts crept back into her heart again.
"How could I have such impure thoughts about him!?" she scolded herself in sha, wrapping her pristine wings around her saintly, delicate body.
And then—
She heard footsteps outside the door.
Her heart pounded.
The Savior had arrived.
In her heart, she warned herself: You must control yourself. Don't do anything blasphemous.
Don't let him despise you.
—
"The holy angel's chambers are rather… simple." Eden said, glancing at the decor.
He stood in his sage-like form—handso, righteous, and firm. A walking symbol of justice.
He looked nothing like the Slaaneshi Champion who just last night bombarded Holy Terra's capital in a flurry of intense, rhythmic 'barrages'.
But when he saw all the plush white bears… he nearly lost it.
This holy angel likes… these? Playing the contrast ga, are we?
He stared at the stuffed toys. They looked oddly familiar. A bit like that big inflatable robot from an animated movie in his past life.
Click.
Before he could react—
The twin seraphim quietly shut the door behind him, standing guard outside the chamber.
"…???"
At that mont, Eden felt like he was walking into a trap.
To an outsider, it might seem like sothing illicit was about to happen.
"Sa… Savior, sir?"
Saint Celestine stepped out barefoot from her bedroom, nervous and flustered.
Hssss—
Eden's breath caught.
She wasn't wearing her armor—but a silver silk nightgown that clung to her curves.
Her wings folded behind her, and she walked barefoot across the floor.
She had no idea how devastatingly seductive her pure and ethereal figure was in that mont.
Perhaps she was just used to solitude, always clad in armor in public, and didn't realize it.
But to a Slaaneshi Champion like the Savior, it was a critical hit.
After all, Slaanesh's servants loved nothing more than to defile the pure.
Fortunately, he was not a Chaos worshiper and managed to restrain himself.
Besides—Saint Celestine was a Living Saint, a divine symbol in the eyes of countless Imperials.
If he made a single inappropriate move during this eting and earned her disapproval—
That would ruin the Savior's image.
He had to stay composed.
Control, Eden. Control!
Eden decided to go full business mode. Stern but polite.
"Saint Celestine," he said, keeping his expression stoic. "It is an honor to et you. What did you wish to discuss with ?"
The holy angel seed dazed.
She had noticed the shift in his expression and thought that perhaps the Savior didn't like her.
For a mont, she blanked out.
What is she doing, zoning out like that? Eden thought, waiting for her to speak.
Faced with the Savior's gaze, Celestine finally snapped back to herself.
Truthfully, she had no real reason—just an instinctive need to draw closer to him. A pull from her soul.
Thankfully, she had prepared a justification.
"S-Savior, sir…"
"I've… heard from various sources that so within Holy Terra are displeased with your actions. They say your arrival is part of a power grab—a move toward dictatorship."
As she spoke, her expression grew more solemn:
"So have even compared you to the bloody High Lord of the Age of Apostasy—Goge Vandire. Others claim your ties to xenos and heretics run too deep…"
"They're calling the new Vandire?" Eden frowned slightly.
He ignored the second half. That first part was far more troubling.
He knew well the hidden history of the Age of Apostasy.
In the 36th Millennium, High Lord Goge Vandire seized control through coup and assassination, taking command of both the Ecclesiarchy and the Administratum.
He monopolized Holy Terra's power and ruled it with an iron fist—substituting his own will for that of the Emperor.
He even used the Adepta Sororitas as his personal bodyguard force—calling them the Brides of the Emperor.
During his rule, Vandire launched purge after purge in the Emperor's na, devastating countless institutions, factions, and even Space Marine Chapters.
So civilized worlds and Chapter howorlds were bombarded from orbit.
Panic and fear ruled the galaxy.
Vandire's brutal reign lasted nearly a century.
It was only after years of secret resistance—led by the Confederation of Light—that hope returned.
One world after another joined the resistance, marching on Holy Terra.
Among them were the chanicus Forge Worlds, Ecclesiarchy dissidents, and loyalist Chapters such as the Black Templars, Imperial Fists, and Soul Drinkers.
They surrounded Holy Terra and laid siege to Vandire's Ecclesiarchal Palace.
But Terra's defenses were formidable, and the siege dragged on.
Even then, Vandire refused to surrender. He disbanded the High Lords and declared war on all "heretics and rebels."
What followed was a bloody civil war on Terra itself—the largest since the Horus Heresy.
In the end, it was the Adepta Sororitas—guided by the Custodes—who entered Vandire's sanctum and executed him, exposing his heresy.
The lesson was clear—
Holy Terra, the Throneworld of humanity, was not so easily conquered.
Ironically, Vandire had been hardworking. Dictatorship required impossible levels of oversight, enough to kill any normal man.
His famous last words—"I don't have ti to die…"—beca infamous.
But Vandire had walked a path of destruction. The more he worked, the more damage he did to the Imperium.
And even after his death, the chaos he sowed continued.
It led to events like the Redemption Crusades.
Saint Balious, who rose to prominence in the Confederation of Light, declared over thirty Astartes Chapters guilty and sent them into the Eye of Terror.
None returned.
Now—
The Imperial elite refused to relive those dark, bloody days.
They opposed any form of dictatorship.
They believed the Imperium's current state—fragnted and self-governed—was the only way to maintain stability.
And, of course… it served their interests best.
Ambitious n hate being ruled by others. No one wants a big boss hanging over their heads.
Eden was no exception.
If the Emperor were to return in the flesh one day—step down from the Golden Throne—those ambitious types would shout their loyalty on the surface… while weeping in secret.
They'd suffer the most.
The high-ranking nobles and bureaucrats comparing the Savior to Goge Vandire had a clear goal: to slander Eden and discredit his political vision and direction.
They aid to revive the terror of dictatorship and awaken the people's fear.
Eden understood this all too well. It was a thorny problem.
If he lost the support of the people, no reform—no matter how righteous—could proceed.
And what was he supposed to do then? Bombard Holy Terra for real?
That would only cause more unrest, giving the schers their mont to stir up chaos.
Fortunately, those voices of dissent were still whispers in the dark, not yet widely spread.
Not everyone was against him.
Still, Eden felt a bit guilty.
Because deep down, he did want to rule as a dictator.
More than Vandire even.
He wanted to be the only sun of the Imperium.
Which ant this trend needed to be crushed—fast.
If his image as a second Vandire beca widespread, everything he did afterward would beco infinitely more difficult.
When opposition reached critical mass, even the Savior's Dominion might not hold the line. So of his less loyal allies might abandon him altogether.
And truthfully… he didn't want to fight another Imperial civil war.
As for the Emperor's opinion?
He hadn't dared ask.
What if the answer was "no"? That'd be a real disaster.
Besides, the Emperor's own political theory and thods of governance weren't exactly reference material—
He'd delegated power and military command almost entirely in the early days, choosing to hide away and tinker in his lab.
By the ti He realized sothing was wrong, the Imperium was already spiraling toward catastrophe.
Sure, it might've been due to urgency and lack of ti to adjust.
Either way, Eden's idea was simple: get the rice cooked before the Emperor could even walk into the kitchen.
Once the Empire and humanity were already prospering under his rule, what could the Emperor do but allow it?
He'd be happy—maybe even proud.
"Now then, Lady Celestine," Eden said, raising his gaze to et the saint's eyes. "What do you think… of ?"
The silver-haired angel t the Savior's earnest gaze, and her heart skipped a beat.
She took a shallow breath.
"I… I don't think you're anything like those schers. You're certainly nothing like Vandire, that heretical tyrant.
You're a rciful leader. A warrior of purity and nobility.
And I'm not the only one who thinks so—most of the Imperium believes in you. Only a few ambitious individuals oppose you."
"I'm glad you see that way," Eden said with satisfaction, nodding.
It seed his public image within the Imperium was quite positive—and that was the foundation of his future rule.
He looked at the Holy Angel with growing fervor and switched to full praise mode.
"Perhaps we are kindred spirits. You may not realize this, but I have always admired your sanctity and bravery… especially after eting you in person."
He now saw Saint Celestine as a perfect ally—one who needed to be drawn into his faction.
Those schers would continue trying to discredit him, maybe even fabricate nonsense about him selling his soul to Chaos.
Public opinion could be destructive. Once rumors took hold, even ridiculous ones could spiral—three n make a tiger, as the saying goes.
He'd done enough shady things that couldn't see the light of day.
But Saint Celestine?
She was the Imperium's Living Saint. The Holy Angel.
Centuries of propaganda had made her a living icon—an untouchable paragon in the eyes of the people.
As long as she stood with him, the slander would crumble.
Who would dare accuse the embodint of the Emperor's will of conspiring with the Savior?
People judge by association.
If even the solitary, pure Saint Celestine stood beside the Savior, it proved his own heart was just as noble and untainted.
The Savior's sudden show of warmth caught Celestine off guard.
But deep inside, she felt joy blooming.
By the Emperor… the Savior doesn't hate .
She thought that with a faint smile forming on her otherwise cold face.
"Let's sit down and talk," Eden said, taking a seat on the stone chair beside her and gesturing warmly.
He was used to taking the lead.
"Y-yes…"
Celestine responded almost instinctively, forgetting she was in her own ho, and sat opposite him, a little tense.
Eden noted her simplicity.
Easily fooled. Even better.
Perfect.
Then he pulled out all the stops.
He talked passionately about everything—from his unwavering loyalty to the Emperor, to religious belief, to funny customs from across the Imperium. He even offered her so of his territory's best wine.
He weaved in political offers and scattered flattery like a seasoned diplomat.
And now and then, Celestine smiled.
Her blue eyes shone with emotion. She listened intently to everything the Savior said, not missing a word.
She nodded along, even if so topics went over her head or didn't particularly interest her.
Because she was happy.
She hadn't felt this kind of joy in a very long ti.
Being with the Savior… is truly delightful, she thought.
From Eden's perspective, the eting had gone perfectly.
He had successfully chard and allied with this seemingly innocent Holy Angel. Progress was excellent.
They'd even ford a political pact—to stand together in the future.
Perfect.
Just short of holding hands under the stars and falling asleep together.
"Lady Celestine."
Eden stood, checking the ti. The hour was late.
Ti to wrap it up.
After all, the best conversations end before they grow dull.
"I've greatly enjoyed our ti together. I believe we can work side by side to usher in a brighter future for the Imperium."
He gave a warm smile. "It's getting late. I should take my leave. I look forward to our next eting."
Then, as if rembering sothing:
"Ah, yes—tomorrow is the Victory Celebration. I would be honored if you joined for the ceremony."
Celestine, as a Living Saint, naturally had her own place at such events.
But standing beside the Savior carried different weight—a political statent.
It would serve Eden's interests perfectly.
And if his future coup caused unrest, it would also bind Celestine more firmly to him.
"I… I will be there, Savior," Celestine said firmly.
Eden smiled gently. "Then I'll see you tomorrow. Until then."
He turned and walked toward the door.
"…That's it?"
Celestine stared at his broad back. Suddenly, her heart felt empty.
She wished he would stay a little longer.
She didn't know why, but being near him cald her soul.
Perhaps this man is just… different.
She stared blankly, reluctant to let go.
The emotions she had hidden for so long surged up, transforming into a craving she could no longer suppress.
"S-Savior…"
She called out softly. Her voice trembled. "C-could you wait… a mont?"
Eden turned to her, calm and steady. Waiting for what she had to say.
Perhaps sothing important remained.
"I… I don't know how to say this. You may think I've… defiled you…"
Celestine gathered her courage. Her pale, delicate face flushed pink. She even closed her eyes.
Breaking through the wall of sha, she declared:
"Could… could you hold ?"
…???
Hiiissss—
Eden stared at the trembling angel before him. Even her ears had turned red.
He sucked in a sharp breath. He was stunned.
Wasn't this the Holy Angel? The pure, untouchable paragon?!
And now she was asking for a hug? What kind of twist was this?!
All that talk of political alliance—turns out she wanted the body.
Should've said so earlier! That kind of soul-and-body connection would've sealed the deal faster.
It was a clear invitation. Eden had seen many like it before.
The Savior's composure shattered. The Sage persona collapsed.
He nearly dropped the act and beca the beast.
Celestine stood frozen, overwheld by sha and fear. Her mind had completely crashed.
Eden hesitated only for a second—
Then walked over.
He reached out and gently pulled the trembling Holy Angel into his arms.
She was tall and slender, her head just barely reaching his chin.
Celestine lted into his embrace like a delicate bird, too afraid to move.
She had dread of this scene countless tis. Longed for this embrace.
So warm. Like a protective light wrapping around her.
anwhile…
Eden felt himself losing control.
His hands moved reflexively—
Then stopped.
Celestine looked up with guilt in her eyes. "I… I'm sorry if I defiled you."
Eden looked down at her.
And realized—
There was nothing lustful about her. Only pure, unfiltered affection.
His scalp tingled. His mind scread:
"Oh no—this is… this is PURE LOVE?!"
He, a Slaaneshi Champion who had weathered countless pleasures, now faced the most dangerous of them all—
Innocent, honest, sincere affection.
And he was completely unprepared.
(End of Chapter)
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