Only at these words did I dare to look back at the voice. He was tall, draped in a black
uniform, and at his hip was an iridium blade. His wore a scar over his left eye and his manner
exuded predation. He had been sitting in a rattan chair but stood up. Harna opened his mouth to
protest, but the man stood before Harna and loomed over us both like a tower built of fear. The
only reason I did not cower was because I was transfixed in admiration. He was sublime,
elemental.
He was of the Deathguard. He said to Harna “He comes with me. The emperor will have
use of him.” I felt a part of myself thrill at that, and another part die. I knew then that I would
never see my home again. I knew that I would never live a peaceful life. I knew that I wanted to
be, like this resplendent man in his black and red uniform, a servant of Death.
“The Emperor is Just,” said Harna, trying to hide his fear.
As it happened, both I and that Deathguard were destined for great things in the
Emperor's service. He became greater than any Deathguard, and I became what I am: the
instrument of fear throughout the Galaxy. I am Cuthnos Delvanian, the Emperor's Justice.
*
*
*
The Emperor is perhaps the most hated being in the Galaxy. Not without reason. His
word brings death, and his reign means perpetual rebellion and perpetual war. There is no escape
from this. And it only can end with the Emperor’s death, something that doubtless many heretics
implore whatever secret false gods they can imagine to bring about. And yet, no one truly guards
the Emperor’s person. True, Deathguard man the Palatium, as do armed cohorts of the Order of