Do you still remember Cthonia, the home planet that you never chose to go back to? You almost avoided it, avoided the land where blood feuds and crude firearms were rampant, and avoided the criss-crossing tunnels and wars.
The ruins hide away from the gray cumulus clouds that can never be dispersed in the world.
But you know, you can't avoid it, just like you can't avoid batch after batch of new blood from Cthonia, inheriting your genes and strength, coming to your legion, and speaking with the most admiring attitude.
Those Cthunian dialects call you father and lord, and they will fight to the death for you.
Of course you can't let them down. You treat everyone in the Legion as equally as possible, and when you look at the tattoos on their arms and backs that symbolize gangster culture, you will also be reminded of your own past.
When you were not so powerful, when you were still a little kid who had just left your home planet, when you came to the radiant Holy Terra with tension and expectation, everything you saw was
It was so wonderful and dreamy. Although you can't remember more details now, you know that the time was beautiful at that time.
Thinking of this, your brain feels a tingling sensation. It is an insignificant, boring and painful feeling, as if someone is holding a delicate silver needle, trying to make you feel pain or a little torture without overestimating its ability.
Do you think of that overly flashing golden light, that radiant figure standing on the sand dunes, or standing in his courtyard? You can't remember clearly.
He was wearing that armor, with a genuine smile of joy on his face. He walked forward with quick steps, patted you on the shoulder intimately, and called you his son.
You still remember how you hugged him with great excitement. Even the light shining on the world became even brighter because of the reunion between father and son. You remember that the light shining on his armor seemed excessive.
Dazzling.
In fact, you didn't see his face clearly.
Then, he put his arms around you and introduced you to the person next to him. This time, you saw clearly: it was a silver-haired woman, slightly shorter than you, with a pair of ancient blue eyes.
With her beautiful eyes, she looks at you like a pampered young lady watching her father bring back a pitiful puppy from outside.
There was no malice, but no respect either. Instead, a natural desire for guidance and protection occupied a part of her pupils. She seemed to be trying hard to look more serious, but that lazy aura remained the same.
Caught by you.
She is so calm, as if she has already seen through you.
You think so, then smile and reach out your hand.
She also extended her hand, and compared to yours, her fingers looked slender and fragile, not like the palms of a warrior: this made you proud.
It is true that you are not your father's real first child, which makes you a little disappointed, but this does not stop you from greeting her with a smile.
The two hands were held together.
"Horus."
"Morgan."
She smiles at you, a lazy smile that makes people feel more friendly.
"Congratulations, my brother."
"you are the first."
She seemed to have said something again, but you didn't hear it clearly.
You can only feel that her smile is indeed beautiful.
Although her hands were cold, they made people feel at ease.
——————
You joined this expedition immediately, and your descendants continued to cross the stars to reunite with you. Before that, they had already earned themselves the prestigious name of the Luna Wolves, and you were very satisfied with this name.
Your father is busy, he is always busy, has endless things to do, endless plans, and is in a hurry between different galaxies. Although he often fights side by side with you, such as in Ruili
Si, he protected you who was unfortunately injured until reinforcements arrived.
But after that, he left, and you also heard rumors of other brothers among the stars: Leman Russ, or Ferrus, you have seen them, they are either pure barbarians, or they exude
He has an air of being smart and capable but not likeable.
But fortunately, some people stayed.
Morgan, she's always with you.
You thought she would never leave.
The Second Legion and the Sixteenth Legion are the closest comrades-in-arms. She is your blood relative, comrade-in-arms, division commander and think tank. You have conquered countless worlds and kingdoms, traveled between galaxies one after another, and witnessed the brilliance and brightness of meteorites.
Death of a star.
She teaches you to learn various languages and teaches you to observe the trajectory and life of the stars. When you listen to countless words from countless people, you will always think of the knowledge she has told you and what she has told you.
With thousands of emotions that human beings can have, she confides completely without any concealment: you can feel that she has nothing to hide, her words are always lazy, but they are always sincere.
Sincerity, you like sincerity.
As you walk through galaxies and worlds, war and death are always necessary, but more often than not, you can witness heartfelt surrender. You can stand on the top of the battleship, overlooking another world.
With the expansion of the empire's territory, the great rejuvenation of mankind has once again taken a solid step.
In those days, the sun is always warm, everyone in the legion can laugh loudly, death and sacrifice are proudly mentioned and remembered, you and she always like to stand at the highest point to observe your heirs and discuss them
They list the best and compete with each other. You are always the one who wins the game. Whenever this happens, her cheeks will become bulging and she will whisper softly about what you committed when you just returned.
Embarrassing thing, she seems to know everything about you and her, which makes you proud.
Those days seem to last forever. The two legions are advancing rapidly in the galaxy. She often lives on the Vengeful Spirit. You specially built a house for her with the same specifications as yours. Likewise, on her flagship
On, you also have the same treatment. The warriors of the two legions have become accustomed to meeting another primarch. Some of the bolder guys will even make fun of them. You like these little brats.
Those were wonderful days.
Thirty years have passed like that...it seems like twenty years.
Wait, it seems like nineteen years.
You have a headache again. When you want to recall those specific numbers, a pinprick-like pain begins to harass your senses stubbornly.
You felt irritated, and smacked down the throne with your giant palm, breaking the throne at your hand. Your eyes caught Masherot being frightened by this scene. He had never been so timid before.
But you still spoke, apologizing softly like the most sincere father, but he froze in place, as if he heard something strange from your words.
Forget it, he has been like this since some time ago, maybe he is really not suitable for this position.
You also saw some warriors and mortals walking around in the corners of the room. Some of them came to Masherot and talked with him.
They seem to call him Agnes? What a ridiculous mistake.
You smiled, but did not refute, because some people were shocked by your smile. They knelt on the ground, trembling, and did not dare to make the slightest move.
And you only felt a faint sour taste in your mouth, which made your irritability increase day by day. You seemed to hear a faint laughter echoing between the battleship and the corridor, which made you frown.
You spoke solemnly and ordered Masherot to solve this matter. After receiving the order, his steps were so hurried and panicked, as if he was running away from a roaring beast.
You smiled again and ignored him. Your eyes once again penetrated countless time and space, returning to the most beautiful time.
You forgot about when that was. In short, in just a few years, your brothers returned to the Empire one after another: Fulgrim, Vulkan, Dorn, and Magnus
, she took Vulkan away and left Fulgrim with you. When you watched her flagship and fleet disappear alone at Mandeville Point, you were stunned for a long time until your heir
You wake up.
It feels like a child has walked out of the house and walked into the distance alone.
You feel lonely, and maybe a little bit excited.
No matter what, you start to get used to living alone, start teaching Fulgrim, and start trying to remember how she taught you. You will always go to the room you prepared for her to stay quietly for a while, recalling the past.
.
You like this.
Your brothers are still coming back. They are all so powerful and wise. You can feel that your father is trying to emphasize your status. He always tries his best to take you with him when he welcomes back his heir. You like
In this way, at this time you can reunite with your father and Morgan.
The three of you stay together, just like in the past.
There are brothers changing around her: Vulkan, Dorn, Perturabo...
Oh, and Robert, Robert Guilliman, your most ambitious brother, he is entrenched in his own five hundred worlds, planning his own conspiracies all the time, you always remind yourself in your heart, remind you
You want to prevent Guilliman from rebelling against the Empire due to his ambition and calculation. You know that it will be a matter of time.
After all, he is jealous of you, and he looks at everything about you with greedy eyes, at the Warmaster position in your hands, and at your close relationship with Morgan: Guilliman always wants to break all of this, so he
Encourage her to build her own kingdom, and keep looking for her to discuss strategies for governing mortals.
Damn it, why didn't he go find other brothers to discuss matters of governing mortals and political planning? He also wanted to make plans for exchanges and study abroad, and put the stamp of Ultramar on Morgan's kingdom.
You have a headache. The headache becomes more and more obvious. You can't help but cover your forehead. Your expression may be a little ferocious, because you hear many people kneeling beside you, and you even hear the sound of spitting out dirt.
.
Maybe they were really scared.
You wanted to apologize to them, but your headache prevented that.
You decided not to think about Guilliman. After all, that kid always failed to accomplish anything. He would always make a miscalculation inadvertently and turn the brilliant plan into a disaster.
He is a perfect bureaucrat, nothing more.
Having said this, you couldn't help but think of the rare disagreement between you and Morgan. You still remember how she commented on Guilliman with a smile in front of you that day, and you laughed off her conclusion.
How could a man who created five hundred worlds wish to be an old farmer? He is not Mortarion.
You seem to have been arguing for a long time. You have never argued for that long. You still remember that Sanguinius sat next to you just after returning, holding a fruit plate and saying a few words in the heated atmosphere. You forgot that he was
When did you integrate into your small circle, but you don't hate him, who would hate Sanguinius?
From that day on, you always seem to be arguing, a rational and controllable argument. You don't hate this time. After all, it is rare. She lives on the Vengeful Spirit again, and her room has been too vacant.
It's been a long time, but fortunately you have kept the habit of cleaning it.
So, you, Morgan and Sanguinius, a perfect combination, a perfect time, you seem to have returned to the days when you once walked among the stars, but this time, the war is inevitably too much.
You chatted in the long night under the moon. You missed that peaceful time. Most of the time, you were the one talking. Sanguinius always had nothing constructive to say, and Morgan, for some reason, fell in love with your language.
With the feeling of jumping left and right in the loopholes of logic, that teasing smile is always accompanied by the corner of her mouth, as if she has been away from you for too long, and she wants to make up for it all at once.
But no matter what, those times are beautiful. That's the second time you think that life will continue like this.
You smiled, you could feel your smile, and at this moment, you found that your chin was a little wet. You lowered your head and only saw some viscous liquid dripping on your breastplate.
You frowned and called the attendants on the side to come and clean you, but maybe your voice was too soft, so they just lowered their heads and said nothing.
Maybe you need a new batch of mortal servants, even ones a little more clever.
You complained in your heart, but did not get angry. You were considerate of this miserable guy: the war has been too long, long enough to destroy the sanity of these mortals.
But it doesn't matter, you can end it soon.
——————
In the last one hundred years of the Great Crusade, all you can remember is the war.
Sanguinius left, and Morgan also left. She led her legion to the edge of the galaxy to participate in a war against Randan. You tried to persuade her not to get involved in such things, but the result
This is just the first real argument between her and you.
You even remember her sarcasm.
"what are you worried about?"
"What are you worried about?"
"What are you jealous of?"
"My Horus, does it make you uneasy that you are avoiding this war, but witnessing other brothers taking over the power to command multiple legions? Does this make you feel an unnecessary sense of threat?"
You didn't speak. You were neither willing to refute nor face it. You silently watched her fleet disappear into the Mandeville Point again. When she appeared in front of you again, it was already
Thirty years later.
Scarred and exhausted.
You hugged her, which seemed to be all you could do.
You feel her head on your chest, the two of you standing silently like this, which is worth a thousand words.
But this is not the beginning of a reunion, just a brief glimpse.
Next, she went to another remote corner. It is said that she accompanied and taught the midnight ghost for twenty years, but you don't think it was of any use. Those guys from the Eighth Legion still performed their own
Performance art just likes to carry a code compiled by their genetic father, read the regulations and instructions on it with sacred faith, and disembowel those who meet the conditions.
Then there is Angron. She spent a long time on that crazy brother, but you still feel that it was in vain. After all, in the end, Angron looks the same as his offspring and the Space Wolves, and the world
Everyone can see that what little sanity he has left has been destroyed by the passage of time.
But she is still like this, running around among the stars, becoming more and more like your father. Although you still maintain the closest relationship with Morgan and your father, and you still fight side by side when conditions permit, but for
She becomes exactly the same as her father, and you only feel an instinctive resistance.
This resistance reached its peak after Ullanor.
After you knew that she supported Jonson to become Warmaster, you really felt angry. You almost abandoned the tasks and work at hand and rushed all the way to her flagship.
You walk through the corridors, through the rooms, through the soldiers of the Second Legion that you are no longer familiar with. Everything here seems strange to you, but when you open the last door, you enter the place where you once lived.
Where you discuss it together, it seems to be the same as it was decades ago.
Familiar, you feel familiar.
She is waiting for you there, with wine and a few books on the table. The two of you may be furious at this time, at least you are, but when you sit down, the past can't help but emerge with this action.
before their eyes.
You laughed, and so did she.
You drank some wine and discussed things about Zhuang Sen and the Warmaster. You still disagreed with her a little, but it didn't hurt anymore.
Anyway, the Warmaster is yours.
And anything else you want is also yours.
——————
Thinking about it now, Ullanor seems to have only happened a few decades ago, maybe twenty years?
You have another headache.
Finally, you stood up and walked slowly to the tactical projector. You witnessed the slowly rotating planet in the projector. You looked at it for a long time until someone on the side whispered a reminder.
.
"Warmaster, this is the situation on Terra..."
Ah, yes, this is Terra.
The beginning and end of everything.
Also your next trophy.
But it won't be the last.
You look at it, at its riddled surface, at the huge army rampaging across its land, at the armies of Dorne and Sanguinius blocking in vain in front of the palace, waiting.
Impossible miracle.
How could there be another miracle?
What are they waiting for?
Are you waiting for Jonson and Curze? The two legions have long been seduced by their own provocations. The Night Lords loyal to him provoked a war between the two legions. After all, his brother Judge is a poor manager.
If it weren't for that stubborn brat named Savita, he would have controlled the entire Eighth Legion.
As for now, they may have broken through their own storm in the Ghoul Star Realm. The combination of the two primarchs can indeed do this. They may go to Guilliman and kill more people because of his stupid behavior.
Time, in short, they cannot keep up with this war. Whether it is the Dark Angels, Night Lords or Ultramarines, they are destined to be absent.
Thinking of this, you can't help but feel melancholy. If you could have asked another brother to bring Angron back, maybe your legion would have already entered the palace by now. Fulgrim is a fool, he messed up everything.
, and even sacrificed himself.
You felt a headache, an unprecedented headache. You patted your head, but you vaguely heard a sound echoing in the room, like the most terrifying monster roaring in a low voice.
what a pity.
You think so.
If she could have been on your side, you would have won long ago, maybe three years ago.
But this is definitely a delusion.
You invited her, and almost the first moment you made up your mind, you approached her. She didn't explicitly refuse or agree, but you knew that this was a rejection.
Then……
Then, she died.
Died in Istvan.
You still remember how she died. After all, you killed her yourself and destroyed her legion. You remember the way her blood flowed on your paws. Remember the last time her eyes looked at you.
There is no hatred in it.
Everyone was screaming, especially Fulgrim, Perturabo and Lorgar. They almost rushed up and turned against you, but there were also people laughing... You forgot who it was.
Headache……
etc……
Is she dead?
She didn't die, she didn't die in Istvaan, she died in Prospero, Magnus killed her...
No, it's not there either. It seems that you killed her in Betangamon and cut off her head, and now it is placed on your right...
No, did you kill her?
That skull seems to be Ferus?
Magnus seems to have said that she and her Legion are fighting in the webway?
The headache becomes more and more violent. You take a deep breath and close your eyes tightly.
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
You open it again and the headache disappears.
You defeated it, just like you have overcome countless challenges and difficulties before.
The smile returned to your face.
You are still troubled, but you no longer care.
Even if she really dies, you will let her come back to you after everything is over.
She will never be allowed to leave you again.
And if she is alive, then you will inevitably be a little sad. After all, at this point, she still refuses to recognize the true reality of this world and come to you.
But that's okay.
You're about to end this.
Whether it's Jonson, Curze, Guilliman, or Sanguinius and Morgan, the moment you kill the false emperor, they will know how wrong they were.
They will kneel on the ground and beg you for forgiveness, and of course you will forgive them. After all, the galaxy is so vast, and you still need your brothers to rule with you. As long as they recognize your power, you don't mind being a benevolent master.
Of course, some people, or in other words, she, do not have a separate future. She must stay with you, and you are not allowed to leave.