Wolf Shepherd
Horus looked out at the universe beyond the viewport.
Through Bucephalus's pristine glass, a brownish-green planet gradually grew larger beyond the window.
First, a tiny dark speck entered the primarch's extraordinary range of vision. Then the speck became a circle, the circle a sphere, and the sphere steadily expanded like an old man's smile, revealing layer upon layer of dark green mountains across the planet's surface.
Scattered cities lay among those mountains, blending perfectly with nature's hues. Like exquisite brick-and-stone ornaments, they adorned every corner of the planet, symbols of humanity's footprints and achievements. One city stood out in particular. Though it could not be clearly seen from space, the unusually intricate patches of color within it still drew Horus's attention.
At last, at the heart of the mountain range, a stretch of crystalline white light entered his sight.
When the snow-capped peaks filled his vision, Horus rose from the window and prepared to land.
Olympia. Peturabo.
Anyone with a measure of intelligence in Horus's position could have deduced that the lord of Terra had created twenty sons, let alone Horus, with his innate wisdom.
He had often wondered which brother would be the second to return to their father's side and end the time he had spent alone with him.
Would he be skilled in war like Horus, or more devoted to other pursuits? Proud or gentle? Elegant or savage? Taller or shorter? More like Horus and their father, or possessed of an entirely different character?
Sometimes those thoughts absorbed him until his sons called him back, teasing him plainly to remind him that it was time to inspect the troops.
And today, it was time to meet his first brother.
Bucephalus remained in orbit, and the landing craft waited within the flagship. Horus patted the fur