Konrad Curze's black hair streamed in the wind as he surged forward with unprecedented speed.
"Omega" had to live.
He needed time to understand what that unfamiliar emotion truly was.
Before departing Isstvan, the Warmaster had spoken earnestly.
"Konrad, I once read an ancient Terran tale."
"In the age of Egypt, there was an empress named Hatshepsut. She was a just and wise ruler of her era, leading her people toward prosperity."
"She rebuilt Egypt's navy, then restored the entire empire, resisting the nations that oppressed them."
"She sounds capable." He folded his arms, his claws tapping against his vambraces.
"But her successors erased her name from every monument. Her achievements were wiped away, and even her corpse was abandoned in the wilderness."
"Why?"
"Her successors did not want anyone to know what had happened—those things that the golden eagle upon the Imperial banner could not conceal."
Horus stared at him intently. "Only destruction will suffice. Leave no trace behind, until nothing remains but darkness and ashes."
"Our father's lies shroud the galaxy, and you will tear apart that false canopy, scattering the radiance of terror."
"Konrad, I need you. Without you, I cannot lead humanity toward a glorious future."
The Warmaster had tried to close the distance between brothers as he once had, but there was no doubt that he was no longer the Horus Lupercal of old.
Ambition and dark intent lurked beneath his words.
He had felt that same unfamiliar sensation from another brother before.
Lorgar Aurelian.
Without question, Lorgar cared for every one of his brothers, but his endless talk of faith was tiresome.
Amid Chagualsa's ashes, he truly sensed the resemblance between the two brothers.
They were both isolated, misunderstood by their brothers.
They were both traitors to the Imperium, yet neither was a dog