The Emperor comforts terrified humans.

"No one dares approach, nor should they. From where they stand, cowed by the scope of this impossible room, all they see is a remote figure on a faraway golden seat, as still and silent as it has ever been. Beneath that outward stillness, my lord does a thousand things every second, a thousand things that only one or two of them at most could even begin to comprehend.

He stokes the wards that guard the last of the Palace. He radiates controlled burns of telaethesic energy that weaken and shrivel the Neverborn instantiating closest to our fastness. He watches and moderates the flow of the endwar, at both micro and macro levels. He moves through the minds of individual warriors as they crunch and gasp and stab, observing the flow of combat at a granular level; and simultaneously, he watches from above, like one of poor Jaghatai’s finest hawks, hovering on an updraught, beholding, below him, entire regiments and armies as they twist and pivot and brawl. He shaves and shapes the etheric turmoil of the webway, guiding and conducting immaterial force via the Throne’s ancient machineries, so that the doomsday pressure can be held at bay. And he tries, as best he can, to soothe the minds of a billion terrified human souls as they flee and panic and scramble for some vestige of safety."

--The End and The Death: Volume One