Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Tonight I will take your soul back, to whom will the things you have prepared belong? —— Saint Ilarian, the ancient Terra sage

——

Olanius Persson was not sure if Terra was so cold in the past. The towering metal buildings that spread along the plateau seemed to be frozen brittle, and every inch of them was shining with a layer of flickering cold light. Palaces, towers, city gates, too many administrative departments piled up from bottom to top, like icebergs floating on the surface of an invisible ocean...

They carefully sneaked along the road in the shadows, like actors constantly changing positions in the dark on a stage with flickering lights, looking for traces of their targets...

The unpleasant smell of chemicals burned his arms. The clanking machines roamed outside the exhaust duct where they hid, and through the gaps in the mouths of the gargoyles, Or could see the oily traces left by their rolling tracks on the smooth ground. The buzzing suspension device was running above the dark corridor, and the messenger Cherubim flew in a strange posture. Orr looked away and retreated back into the passage.

Beside him, John Grammaticus wiped the blood off his face and immediately wrote on the wall with a carbon stick. They would only come here once. When someone found the traces they left behind, they might have reached their destination.

"We need to move again," John wrote with a grin, covering his mouth, "The cold hall should not be far away."

"You are getting better and better at using spells." Orr mouthed, and ate a mouthful of floating dust as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Not enough, according to the boy, I shouldn't be hurt." John put down the carbon stick depressedly, grabbed Orr's shoulders, and his throat trembled. He decided to make a concerted effort and use a few more words to drag the two of them into the cold hall.

His control over the spells was almost entirely based on consulting the incomprehensible textbooks of the former imperial craftsmen. Self-learning languages ​​was a matter of talent and confidence, so that every time he used a new spell combination, it was like throwing a dice determined by fate...

The air was filled with the smell of sheepskin and old paper, and dust particles were floating under the blue lighting. Orr felt that his feet suddenly lost weight. He subconsciously reached out and pulled the light ball beside him. A series of interconnected circular lighting devices were all torn apart. A group of galaxy-like lanterns accompanied Orr and John to smash into a bookshelf in the exhibition hall. Hundreds of precious ancient books poured out of the cabinet like an avalanche in an instant.

Orr fell into the pile of books. Before he could get up, a framed picture fell on his chest. The frame of a lady's portrait with ivory skin smashed his head back into the paper.

John Grammaticus fell to his right, wrapped in the light belt he had just pulled off, and a lot of blood shed for using the spell fell into the ancient book.

"You?" An old voice sounded, and Orr took a breath full of dust, fumbled to hold the picture and propped up his upper body. He saw an elderly man hurried over with a robe, staring at them in shock.

"Where are you from?" The visitor's eyes moved to the scattered books on the ground with regret. He picked up a book with an unfamiliar name from the top of the collapsed pile of books, and when he saw that the content was not damaged, he felt relieved. Orr found that he was wearing a pair of gloves to protect books.

Orr found a foothold and stood up, picked up John and hung him on his shoulders.

"I am Orlanius, and he is John. Under the order of the Emperor, we are here to find a way to complete a codeword." He said hoarsely, raising his free hand to show that he was not hostile. "It first appeared among humans in ancient Terra, and we can only rush into the cold hall - we are ordered by the Emperor..."

"Emperor?" Another woman's voice came from far away, and a relatively young figure appeared timidly behind a tall display case. She was wearing a heavy insulating work suit, with a bunch of crystal keys hanging around her waist and a box of Emperor Tarot.

When she heard Orr mention her theoretical master, the woman's eyes began to redden. She turned her head away and seemed to mutter something.

The old man's eyes were focused on Orr and John, and his tone was suppressed: "You follow the instructions of the throne of the palace?"

John suddenly raised one hand and shook it vigorously from side to side to refute. The young immortal had recovered, let go of Orr, took out a carbon stick from his pocket, and made a series of gestures, as if writing Gothic in the air.

"Do the people of Terra know that the throne is finished?" John asked silently.

The old man's hands behind his back loosened and fell to his side.

"Only me." The woman turned back, her mood had adjusted, "and Sinderman. The two of us know. I... I am Lillian Chase... the archivist here. He is Kyril, Kyril Sinderman. He used to be a preacher... after Ullanor, he followed Lord Horus back. Now he is my partner."

She raised her head, observed John's injuries, and asked tentatively: "Is this an injury caused by using a spell?"

Now it was John Grammaticus' turn to be shocked.

"How did you confirm it?" Or asked vigilantly. He didn't think his old friend would tell the secret of the Tower of Babel to an ordinary archivist, but the two people who suddenly appeared here seemed to know more than ordinary people.

"I used to be an assistant to Lord Morse. After he left the palace... I took over the position of archivist. If you are indeed with the current throne..."

Lillian stopped talking, and a look of fear appeared on her face again. She shrank her shoulders and found a few crystal keys, "Let's go downstairs to talk. This place is too close."

Hindman sighed, "I don't know where you came from, but I don't think I can expect you to clean up these messes. Go to the lower level with Lillian. The Imperial Army should be coming, so I will ask them to help return these ancient books. "

He picked up the books stained with John's blood one by one and handed them to Orr. "Take these. I deal with them."

——

"You may have come to the wrong place. I don't think there is anything you need here - if you are looking for the secret of the spell," Lillian Chase lowered her voice. The looping corridor they were walking in was covered with magic patterns, and every talisman The indus twist slightly in the dim light that is not fully illuminated, growing in spiral shafts and spiral staircases.

The Imperial Regent spent a lot of energy guarding this archive, which was rumored to contain the secrets of the Emperor himself. Now that darkness has ascended the throne of Terra, the shielding and protection measures taken by the Sigil Bearers have given them a A place of respite and conspiracy—or, at least, where Lillian and Hindman had not yet been dragged out and thrown into the fire.

"At least let's look for the books here. I can't think of anywhere else where there are more ancient books. The Emperor has given us a chore," John said, looking around. His injury had healed. "Look for it." An ancient language…and I don’t even know where to perfect it!”

"Oh, there is indeed a book called "Introduction to Spells," I remembered. It must have been in... I need to check the catalog, adults. I'm not sure if this will be useful to you, I read a little ...No, I didn't look, but I'm not sure," Lillian said awkwardly. "That should be a relatively old pamphlet. I don't know the content."

"Sounds like the content is not ideal? Oh, it's okay - we have no right to blame you for peeking at the Emperor's collection. You can relax. And you have been the assistant of the famous Morse after all. You can't do anything. It would make me wonder."

"I……"

"Okay, John." Orr said in a low voice, "Ms. Zeiss, take us to have a look. Also, tell us, why did you notice something strange about the throne?"

"The Emperor... hasn't left the throne room for a long time, really. And recently, we have only seen the Word Bearers and the Alpha Legion coming in and out of the palace. You know what they are like..." Lillian replied.

"This is all speculation, ma'am..."

"Come on, Miss Lillian, you just secretly learned some spells, which helped you make a judgment. Did you peek into the throne room or eavesdropped on the conversation of those psychic idiots in the Imperial Guard? Don't be afraid that the two of us will ventilate the Emperor. We couldn't find him even if we tried to report the news - it was all thanks to Waldo's coming and going."

John said, scanning the bookshelves he passed. The large number of Emperor's books dazzled him. His excellent language talent helped him recognize about a small half of the content, and the rest required a translator.

Lillian Zeiss buried her head in embarrassment and coughed, but her steps did not stop at all. They passed through the dim light of the electric candlestick, went deep into the lower level of the climate-controlled cold hall, and reached the lower part of this mysterious archives through the elevator shaft.

The archivist nervously locked the crystal electronic lock and relaxed against the door. The magic patterns left by the palmer circled around the door frame.

"I did learn some spells on my own... I have always been curious. I feel honored to work in the cold hall, but I still violated the rules..."

She kept her mouth shut, knowing that neither of the two unexpected visitors wanted to hear her confession.

Lillian took out a leather bag from the inner pocket of her thick clothes. After untying the belt, she took out a yellowing booklet. The book was extremely old and the binding was so worn that it looked like it would fall apart in the next second. There was a line of "Introduction to Curses" written in ancient Gothic on the spine of the book. Orr felt that it did not look like the handwriting of his old friend... But he also knew that when the Tower of Babel fell, not everyone was for Neos. killed.

She carefully turned it over, found a spell, took a deep breath, and spoke it.

In front of her, a crystal-like picture immediately spread out, showing a corner of the Terra Palace. Under the supervision of a member of the Ministry of Internal Affairs squatting on the stage, hundreds of clerks were diligently gathering in a small room to copy some text without stopping. Ask for help. Lillian wiped the sweat from her head, read a few more words, and waved the picture away.

"You didn't pay the price?" Orr asked.

Compared with the abilities displayed by Lillian Zeiss--if she had been the craftsman's assistant, it would not be surprising that she could do some extraordinary things. But Zeiss's ability to easily display the curse without being harmed by it was the first time Orr had seen it since he reunited with the Emperor... The last time was in the Tower of Babel, and that memory was too long ago.

"I don't know, I just did what the book said." Lillian whispered, shrinking her shoulders unconfidently, "I have never succeeded before - the first time I succeeded was when the Emperor returned recently. After the throne, I was scared and I felt something was wrong, so I tried it...like this..."

She changed a few syllables, and a blurry shadow appeared in front of them. The scene was far away and unclear. They could vaguely see the vast and dark hall, and a faint flash of metallic luster in the smoky darkness.

Throne Room. Orr jumped to his conclusion.

"Are you brave or cowardly?" John said angrily, feeling ashamed that his language talent and the craftsman's own scrolls, which he was proud of, were not as good as any administrator in the cold hall.

Lillian bit her lip: "I-I am very cautious. I was just thinking about how to verify your identity! But now the emperor is not the emperor anymore, I probably can't prove anything... Well, you see!"

She handed the booklet to the two, John took it, sat down on the ground and began to read it. He hadn't rested for a long time, and he was still energetic at this time. This task made him full of energy. This book is a manuscript that has been reprinted for more than 30 times. The original author is named F.C. Bauer... He admitted that he had never heard of it.

"Ms. Chase," Or said in a low voice, "Have you found any abnormalities about the throne room? Although this is not our mission, I think we should know more about what is happening here to assist those who are fighting outside."

"Fighting?"

"Warmaster Perturabo has a plan." Or said, mentioning this made him feel disappointed. Did he also participate in the plan to destroy the place where he was born?

"Oh, go ahead." Lillian Chase sat down on the spot and exhaled uneasily. "I don't know... but Sinderman and I are waiting for a turnaround... Yeah, I guess many people on Terra think the same way! Because, this is too wrong, although there are still many people who believe in the Emperor... Why do I sound like a traitor?"

Ower came back to his senses, picked out what to say, and talked to the craftsman's former clerical assistant.

After a while, Kyril Sinderman went down to the bottom floor of the cold hall and joined them.

Sometimes he would add some of his own thoughts and evaluations. Horus Lupercal was assassinated in Ullanor until now. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but he couldn't forget it for a second in his memory. He still remembered the day when the Warmaster was awarded the medal and crowned... a bitterness echoed in his chest.

John found a corner, away from the many questions of the two archivists.

He was calmly reading the author's lengthy preface, trying to find out the details of Lillian Chase's free use of spells from the author's understanding of "Angelic Language" and "Dialects"... The author of the introduction to spells was a devout theologian, which was beyond his expectation - if he really had to follow what was said above and believe in the existence of some god to avoid side effects, he was afraid that he would not be able to do it.

This was also completely contrary to his understanding of Morse and the original body Magnus.

In the corner of his eye, he seemed to see a bright white color, slowly stepping into the spying screen maintained by Lillian Chase.

He looked up and his face turned pale for a moment.

"This is not..." Kyril Hindman was stunned in shock, and a cold current ran through his body.

——

How long has he been gone?

He walked on the cold golden road, the leaves of the golden tree spread on the white stone surface like gold foil... In the distant and untouchable void, he was celebrated and encouraged, and those illusory and silent forces pushed him to continue standing and moving forward...

Is his father okay? Where are his brothers? Where are his descendants?

I don’t know, it will not be known, and there is no way to know. He just immersed himself in the empty light, quietly waiting for his awakening.

He seemed to remember that he entrusted his duties to a person he trusted very much - he seemed to believe that the person entrusted would be able to shoulder every responsibility, because that person would never waver and was as tough as steel...

He took a drowsy step and continued to move forward on his endless road. He knew that he could not stop, he knew that he had to keep going, waiting for the day when he woke up.

He vaguely remembered that their conquest in this life had come to an end... Just before he entered the abyss of coma, all the roads in the world had come to an end.

Then, there will be a good future waiting for him.

He smiled.

Gradually, there was a dark starry sky, followed by tiny stars, quietly burning in the boundless space. The faint smell of incense spread around, and the golden leaves under his feet broke into pieces and turned into ashes, as if he was the candle in the furnace, slowly lighting this road...

The starry sky surged towards him, and a magnificent darkness burst out from him. Every place where it connected with the darkness, his armor was shining, and the black light like a gossamer mist hooked him and led him forward.

He was led in a daze, with joy and panic coexisting.

Father-the word suddenly jumped into his dormant consciousness. When he thought that he was being led by his father, his heart was lightly lifted...But, but, why couldn't he be completely at ease, why did the tip of his tongue surge with the smell of copper and iron?

+Come on, Horus...+

——

Outside the Astarte Tower where the stasis field was located, the mortal servants stopped their repair and maintenance work and looked up at the circles of dark fire that suddenly overflowed from the top of the ivory-like towering white tower. The black flames instantly enveloped the entire tower, blazing from the inside out...

What happened? This is the tower where Master Horus Lupercal rests. What is burning in it - is it a fire, an attack, or the advent of a spiritual miracle?

Hearts struggled in intense fear. As the mortals prayed intermittently and helplessly, the tower began to melt, and drops of hot metal left a dark afterimage of a skull as they fell.

The servants who saw this scene all cried out in pain, knelt on the ground, and covered their eyes in pain. The entire tower collapsed inward like melting wax, filling the courtyard with a silver-black pool of molten iron. Tears, blood, and the bones and flesh of the servants were all sealed within the vast molten iron.

The molten iron stopped before it touched the inner court, and the former Oath Tower of Astartes disappeared. The entire area was shrouded in a thick curtain of black mist, and everything was frozen, like some kind of externally solidified gel. The swirling dark waves curled, entangled, evaporated and liquefied in the circular square, repeating the cycle.

The cold wind blew through the empty square, and from the black mist came the whine of the wind like air blowing through pores. The sound of sighs floated around, then fell silent quickly, returning to the empty and melancholy depths.

Until the silence was broken by the footsteps of a visitor.

Lorgar Aurelion rushed from the port and rushed to the tower where Horus Luperkar was sleeping as soon as possible.

Uncontrollable rage surged in his chest, and his warriors had relayed to him the devastation of the Third Legion - crusading for the Imperium of Man for more than a hundred years, even as he abandoned his false worship of Perturabo and found the True to his divine faith deep down, he still raged at Perturabo's cruelty.

Fulgrim was mortally wounded, Ferrus Manus was missing, and the Chaos Daemons were hunting his two innocent, hapless brothers...and now, they were on Isstvaan III, surrounded by the Iron Warriors' fleet. , every naval gun is ready to fire in the barrel.

Thinking of the star language he heard, he had to grit his teeth and recite some scriptures silently in his heart, gaining comfort from the presence of the benevolent Dark Throne and the certainty of the future.

But he had more pressing things to do now, and he breathed deeply, savoring the scorched air that once surrounded the Tower of Astartes, letting the smell of metal and blood soothe his rapidly beating heart.

"The throne is up there..." He murmured, forcing a smile in order to welcome the brother he was most looking forward to now.

Everything changed because of the assassination on the eve of the celebration of Ullanor's victory. A wrong devil stole everyone's trust and honor through conspiracy. Since then, hope seems to have left the world...but there remains one trustworthy brother who will rise from the ashes and dust to claim what is his due with the blessing of the throne.

He made a prayer gesture on his chest, praising the gifts and power of the throne, praising his father for retrieving his true eldest son from the machinations of Chaos and the Betrayer, and for bringing Horus Luperkar back from the half-dead state of purgatory.

This seemed to once again prove the lofty significance of his pursuit and the extremely real existence of the gifts he believed in.

Luojia closed his eyes to block the tears that were about to flow out. His eyes were sore.

He clasped his hands by his side and asked the latest two heads of the Order who were following him to wait outside. He eagerly embarked on the road to meet Horus Luperkar again.

He wanted to apologize to him, tell Horus the mistakes he had made when he was deceived, the suffering father who was waiting for his true eldest son on the throne, and the current turbulent situation in the galaxy...

Initiated by the Throne, he had much to say to Horus Luperkar.

He pushed aside the thick fog and inhaled the smell of coke in the environment. The gaps in the armor that were fused to his skin began to bleed again.

His armor finally replaced his skin, permanently attached to his body without the need for repeated smelting.

The Father forgivingly acquiesced in his path of self-atonement so that, in his most troubled times, he could draw from his own suffering the comfort of sharing His suffering.

In the thick fog, Lorgar saw his long-lost brother.

Horus had sat up from the white stone platform on which he usually lay, weakly holding on to the edge of the platform, slowly readjusting to the reality where he was.

The black mist around them faded, and Lorgar could see Horus' presence clearly again.

In the past period of time, the handsome face of the first returning son was obscured by the paleness of a serious injury that would not heal, making him look as withered as a weathered rock. Now, the warrior sitting here has a ruddy face and bright eyes, and the abundant vitality in the past is returning to his limbs and bones.

However, this was not enough to make Horus' eyebrows relax. High-altitude man-made gardens, gorgeous columns and arches, and silk-woven network-like patterns and imprints outlined by aerial corridors and arch bridges... The Shepherd God stared at the surrounding black mist, his sight passed through the heavy haze, slowly Moving along the winding contours of the palace...

Following Horus' gaze, the golden spiers reminded Lorgar briefly of the two architects of the Emperor, and he pushed them from his thoughts.

Even though it was not unusual for them not to see each other for more than ten years, seeing Horus again still made him couldn't help but smile sincerely.

"You are back, my brother," he said eagerly, "and I am glad to see you again, which makes me feel the joy that has come to me."

Horus shook his head, raised his hand and rubbed his own throat, then froze for a moment, observing the palm of his own hand.

This is the place where he was injured. Now the wound that seems to never heal has been silently sutured, replaced by a tattoo hidden under the skin. From Aurelion's point of view, it should be a constellation.

After identifying the tattoo, the Shepherd God laughed lowly. His laughter echoed like the ocean tide. It was jerky at first, but soon returned to its former loudness.

"What year and month is it now, my brother?" Horus Luperkar looked at Lorgar and said for a moment, "Throne, what's wrong with your armor..."

"Don't worry, brother, this is the gift and punishment I have received. I am lucky enough to wear this thing," Luojia nodded, and a tear couldn't help but flow down his cheek. "It is already His mercy and care. ——There are too many things in this galaxy that require your concern, so don’t use your precious worries on me.”

Horus reluctantly nodded in agreement, and his power was being re-infused into his body. He stood up slowly and swayingly, standing in front of Lorgar, thoughtfully not asking more about the Armor of Atonement.

His majestic figure reminded Aurelion of the mountains of Colchis, which was now destroyed, but the return of Horus Luperkar made the burning of past mistakes no longer something to regret.

"Well, let me hear how many seas turned into mountains and rivers and lakes turned into fields while I was sleeping. I believe I missed many cherished stories and miracles. Tell me, is that so? I Why should I be excited? Is my father waiting for me? Or at least tell me why the Tower of Astartes ceases to exist when I open my eyes!"

Horus's voice was beautiful and high. He walked towards Aurelion cordially and carefully patted Aurelion's shoulder armor symbolically with his fingers, lest he hurt the first brother he saw after waking up. From the scorching bright eyes of the Wolf God, Lorgar Aurelion saw a primarch full of expectations for reality. His determined tone was as if he had clearly seen all the feats.

It was as if he was still living in the afterglow of the Great Crusade.

"Horus, my brother..." Aurelion couldn't bear to avoid the Wolf God's eyes. "Maybe the world is not what you want it to be."

The black mist around them had completely dissipated, and the dazzling palace of Terra once again caught Horus's eyes. The noble face of the Wolf Shepherd God showed intoxicated joy.

"I hear frustration in your voice. My brother, let me guess. Are you being harsh again? Be kind to yourself and others, Aurelion, and don't always be afraid that you are not submissive enough. Father, maybe you underestimate your own achievements. Oh, tell me, what is it that makes you hesitate? How many days have I slept so that you look so strange to me?

Lorgar was speechless for a moment, Horus' concern made him silent, and he couldn't bear to say the statement he had prepared. For a devout believer in the throne, these selfish emotions and worries are contrary to his creed - and his respected brother, even just a smile and a few words can make him hesitate again.

"It is the end of the first year of the thirty-first millennium, Horus. As you can see, this is the site of the Tower of Astartes, and it was His miracles and grace that razed the tower, allowing you to return The same is true for those who return to the world.”

Horus breathed a sigh of relief. "It sounds like I didn't miss too long. I can still catch up with my brothers and make some contributions to the empire... Oh, are you worried about me? At least Sejanus must miss me, I hope he I have led my army well...how sad! How could this world not be as good as I wanted it to be?"

He winked playfully and chattered: "At least, I think this palace is still very bright and shiny. Isn't that great? Where is my father? How is he doing recently? How can I thank him for giving me a second life?"

He moved his arms and looked at the Sagittarius tattoo on his palm with satisfaction: "I seem to be more powerful than before - I feel great."

"The Emperor awaits you on his throne."

Horus's excited expression faded. "What's wrong with father?" he asked seriously.

Lorgar did not look directly at him.

"Father watches over his damaged kingdom from his throne, my brother."

"What?" Horus trembled.

"The Emperor needs our help, and the Human Empire needs our salvation. While you are sleeping, a new God of Chaos is slowly taking shape, and may descend among the stars at any time, and become a life-or-death enemy of the throne. Then The cursed enemy, the sinner to be born, defies the presence of the Father and draws death out of the void.”

Horus did not speak, and Lorgar continued to speak painfully: "We have suffered rebellion, my brother. The God-Emperor was deeply wounded by the unforgivable traitor, and Daiterra suffered the destruction and desecration of tearing and burning. You In your deep sleep, did you see the roar of the nightmare and the shadow of betrayal? When you look up now, can you see the riddled dark throne, can you smell the breath of anger and suffering? "

A moment of silence fell, and Horus's eyes widened, unable to bear the news he heard. Grief rose in his heart. In this short period of time, was his father hurt? Was the empire... betrayed?

He couldn't believe it - he clearly remembered that the Great Crusade had come to an end. From now on, the only task was to continue the empire and revitalize mankind; they all obviously looked forward to sometimes scattering like meteors in their long lives, sometimes gathering together happily, and sharing a lifetime of conquests. The fruitful results... Perhaps some of them are still immersed in war and power and unable to escape, but sooner or later they will become familiar with this bright future and understand their father's hope...

"You...Aurelion..."

"I never exaggerate, my brother, I swear by the name of the throne, by the true name of faith, there is no lie in my mouth." Lorgar turned his head and looked at him deeply, sadness flashed across his face.

"I know," Horus said, reluctantly readjusting his mood and saying goodbye to the glorious imagination in his heart for the time being, knowing that perhaps for a long time, the brother's hand Yanhuan he expected to see would not be seen.

Which traitors harmed the Emperor? Blasphemous spells cast by those sorcerous planets? Are planets dissatisfied with the Empire and the greedy Federation raising the flag of opposition? Is it the false surrender of demi-humans and aliens? Or - more daringly - the traitor is within the imperial administration? Mortal politicians eager to stir up trouble as soon as they see galactic peace?

He thought of the responsibilities entrusted to him before falling asleep, and couldn't help but silently lament that Perturabo probably had a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders. At this time, he was probably dealing with this incident that could hurt the Emperor. In order to avoid chaos caused by the change of military power, they must at least discuss the handover of the war commander's responsibilities after this matter is resolved.

Horus said sharply: "I was just surprised and couldn't bear it for a moment. However, as Gu Terra said, things are like this, and disasters will always come! So, alas, it sounds like the human empire is still at war... The Milky Way still has The task of fighting all directions is required for Ashtar. Well, this is also the mission of our birth! This is the original intention of our entry into the Star Sea!"

At the end of his speech, his voice was as resounding as gold and iron. In a short period of time, he transformed back into the most outstanding general under the banner of the Emperor's Eagle. If he had a long sword at his waist, a warhammer in his hand, or a military flag on his shoulder, he could immediately return to the battlefield and continue Fulfilling his battle oath.

He nodded to Lorgar, his pearl-white armor glowing brightly in the artificial sunlight of the Terran Palace.

"Tell me, what brought about this betrayal? Is the mastermind clear? Has the punishment begun?"

Anger gradually appeared on Lorgar's face, and just thinking about this betrayal was enough to wipe away all the mixed feelings he had about seeing Horus again.

He raised his hands, prayed silently, slowly calmed down, and met Horus's eyes.

"The mastermind has been revealed, and the rebellion has become apparent. What is lacking now is more ironclad evidence, and a subspace environment that is enough to contact the Milky Way and summon various legions to return to Terra. These two conditions must be met...my brother. In During the time of the warp storm, I did my best to resist this happening, bringing fire and judgment to the rebels' subordinates. Your Legion should have returned to Terra by now. imagine……"

He was silent for a moment, seeming to think of the reply sent by the Shadow Moon Wolf.

"Who is the Great Rebellion?" Horus asked, feeling increasingly uneasy. Lorgar Aurelion seemed afraid to answer him directly.

"It's not that you made a wrong decision," Lorgar said. "We all admitted the truth and falsehood, and blinded our vision. But the power was given to the traitors, and the truth of the empire was tampered with. The path behind Terra was torn apart, and the sacred Terra was shattered. The Lord of Ra is sitting on the throne... even the burning of Colchis, the unknown life and death of our innocent brothers, your assassination, and even the many doubts earlier... Why didn't I push it repeatedly and unintentionally become an accomplice? !”

"Say it." Horus stared at Lorgar with his deep eyes. "Who is it?"

Lorgar raised his head. Inside the artificial glass dome, the sun's rays burned the palace in the gray and mottled sky, making his eyes sting. How many times had he stared into the sky like this, suffering, hoping that the Emperor would leave his throne again, come to him, and personally acknowledge his confession.

"Perturabo."

Lorgar said softly.

"Who?" Horus seemed not to hear clearly.

"Fourth Legion, Chief of the Iron Warriors, Warmaster of the Empire, Lord of the Olympia Cluster, Architect of the Emperor...Perturabo." Lorgar announced those glorious titles one by one, barely moving his lips as he spoke. , his throat was trembling, and finally he spat out the name whose existence itself was full of blasphemy to him.

"No," Horus murmured, "no."

Lorgar breathed deeply.

A breeze of dust rose at the tip of his nose, and the dust from the burning day of Colchis returned to his perception. Lies, humiliation, deception, destruction... His heart beat with hatred.

"Perturabo betrayed the Emperor, my brother. His machinations lurked like snakes, flawless in the light and waiting in the shadows.

"His right hand is Magnus, who has altered the God-Emperor's truth and destroyed the God-Emperor's plans. He has been excommunicated forever by the God-Emperor himself at the intersection of roads on the back of the world. Prospero is nowhere to be found, Chapter The fifteen legions vanished like dust and became nothing but dust;

"His left hand is the craftsman who usurped the brilliance of the Star Torch, setting off a dark storm in the subspace, obscuring our vision. Fortunately, the God Emperor has the ability to personally guide us...

"And the Iron Warriors are hunting two of our innocent brothers. One of them is being harassed and chased by demons and has no way to escape. The other is either alive or dead, or has gone forever..."

"No, I can't..." Horus tightened his grip on Lorgar's shoulders, and his fingers began to spasm again. His handsome face was completely pale, almost bleaker than when he fell asleep due to his injuries.

Beyond that, he couldn't say a word.

"My brother, Horus Lupercal, I understand your fear and pain, but you must accept reality." Lorgar said firmly, with a faint light flashing in his violet eyes. "According to the enlightenment of the Emperor, the false god worshipped by the traitor Perturabo must have the evil intention of offending the throne. The Iron Warriors and their accomplices in the rebellion must attack the Solar Segmentum and fight to the death with us. His ambition must be thwarted and his face must be exposed. The Great Crusade has come to an end, but the Holy War has not."

He raised his hand. "In the name of the throne, the Emperor's fleet will whip the galaxy again-but now, follow me, my brother, we will meet the Dark Throne in person."