Father

Communication, something that sounds simple, a skill that any creature with a mouth can do, even Hakimi will breathe on you to express its displeasure.

However, something so simple is something that some people can never learn in their entire lives.

Fortunately, Horus, being a Primarch and Imperial Warmaster, had a mouth and knew that this thing was not just for eating.

Horus was in a terrible state ever since he saw that vision at the coronation ceremony.

Although Horus wasn't as adept at using Psychic Power as the one-eyed Sunburned Ogryn, who could even create muscle-building effects using Psychic Power instead of technology, he had at least eaten pork before.

Primarchs are Primarch connected to the Warp; aside from Guilliman, almost all Primarchs possess some kind of magical Psychic Power.

Take the Great Angel's wings, for example. With his towering 3.6-meter height, plus his Power Armor and a full set of weapons, he must weigh at least two tons.

From an aerodynamic perspective, even if Sanguinius flapped his wings until they were torn apart, he still wouldn't be able to fly. Moreover, Mordred had tested that, given the Sanguinius's carrying capacity, it was possible to tow a Roboute Guilliman in the sky.

Since it's completely unscientific, there must be something carrying the burden behind it, and that thing is Psychic Power!

Great Angel can prophesy, Koz can watch porn, Magnus can grow muscles, Dorn can make everyone fall silent, Corvus Corax can turn into a liquid cat, Khan can use bullet time—these are all magical Psychic Power at play.

Of course, according to the Imperial Truth, Psychic Power is a legitimate scientific phenomenon, absolutely not witchcraft. It's a slippery slope that must never be touched, and anyone who dares to talk nonsense will only be confined to the private room of the Inquisition.

So after seeing the vision, Horus firmly believed it was a Psychic Power prophecy. However, the warrior was a well-known Emperor enthusiast and absolutely did not believe that his father would harm him and his brothers.

Horus, tossing and turning in bed, not daring to tell anyone, had gotten himself into an emo state, and then suddenly thought of the Yellow Skins Mordred often talked about.

Through research, Horus discovered that the Yellow Skins is a monster from Old Terra legends, which can even transform into a little girl with long black hair, animal ears, and white stockings to bewitch people.

Horus was so distracted by the illustrations in the document that he wasted some time and finally became convinced that the terrifying Yellow Skins had possessed his father in the future!

After repeatedly recalling the vision, Horus first took the document to Dorn, seeking comfort from his brother.

Dorn, true to Dorn Dorne nature, listened attentively to Horus's explanation, even though the reason was utterly absurd, and meticulously examined the document before launching into a barrage of soul-searching sarcasm:

"Brother, if I'm not mistaken, you're probably feeling repressed. People can't, but at least they shouldn't be. You can no longer distinguish between reality and dreams."

But don't worry, I have Pain Glove here that can help cure this disease.

The so-called "Pain Glove" are not gloves in the conventional sense, but rather relics from a Dark Age of Technology, similar to latex clothing.

Wearing it will subject you to intense electric shocks, causing extreme pain; it's a monstrous contraption, just like the Butcher's Nail.

However, compared to the Butcher's Nail that's driven into the brain, the Pain Glove, which are essentially a masochistic tool, are much more popular in Imperial Fists.

These Lemon Cans people, who are rather insensitive to pain, often wear this thing to reflect on life, especially Dorn, who shocks himself with it for no reason.

It has to be said that stereotypes can be deadly. Although Dorn's words can be deadly, his reputation for reliability is universally acknowledged, Horus believed it immediately.

"So, for the three days after the meeting, you've been getting electrocuted by Dorn? And you couldn't even say anything?"

"What can I say! That damn Pain Glove had a gag in it, I almost peed my pants from the electric shock before they let me out."

Horus, sprawled on the sofa, guzzled down orange juice with pulp. The life energy it contained began to take effect, relieving his anxiety of the past few days.

But he would occasionally twitch suddenly, clearly suffering terribly at Dorn's hands.

"Damn Dorn, I must have been out of my mind to think of going to find him, but you have to believe me, it wasn't a hallucination, I really saw it."

Horus had been hallucinating more than once; Mordred had even interpreted his dream last time, though they were all trivial fantasies, but this time it had piqued his interest.

Seeing the bald man looking so distracted, Mordred's emotional intelligence, far surpassing that of the Emperor, told him that he should offer him some comfort:

"First of all, prophecies are not credible; they may very well be reversed, or even completely contrary to reality."

Secondly, once you believe in a prophecy, the future may very well be changed, or even the actions you take after believing in the prophecy may alter it.

That's what will lead to that kind of future happening.

And finally, and most importantly, are you really sure it's Old Man Huang chasing you, and not some other ghostly thing?

It sounds convoluted, but Horus could obviously understand it. When Mordred was searching for Luojia, she displayed prophetic abilities that were almost like those of a charlatan.

Furthermore, since Mordred in the illusion was dead, it meant that his brother was absolutely trustworthy, which is why Horus only sought out Dorn and him.

As for why he didn't seek out Sanguinius? Horus felt that, given his position at the time and the blood-stained warhammer on his hand, it looked exactly like he was the one who smashed Sanguinius into mincemeat.

"I'm not sure." Horus continued, carefully recalling the feeling:

"In that illusion, I couldn't even turn my head. The moment Opened Eyes, I saw a dying Sanguinius. His last words were to tell me to run away, and that I couldn't possibly defeat him."

Seeing Mordred's thoughtful expression, Horus said that he felt like a puppet on a string, and running was the only movement he could control at that time.

"I saw war engulfing the empire, Holy Terra shrouded in Demons, and when I stopped, I found myself at the Imperial Palace gates, Dorn was nailed to the door and staring intently at what was behind me."

That sword is familiar to all of us; it is the Emperor's Sword.

At that moment, the illusion ended, and I was finally able to turn my head and look back, and then I saw it—

"Old Man Huang?"

"Yes!"

Horus felt much more relaxed after finishing his story, but Mordred frowned. He hated prophecies the most; they were like chocolates that suddenly appeared in front of you—you never knew if they were candy or shit unless you ate them.

But this didn't Mordred. Since Horus said he remembered every scene in the illusion, why not let himself go into his mind and see it for himself? Luckily, he had such a machine.

Before that, Mordred opened his Pip-Boy and entered that highly valuable small group, choosing the red dog head without hesitation:

"Godfather, help me beat up that blue birdman."

"Huh? What did you call me?"

"Godfather!"

Beneath the Brass Throne, Angrath, who succeeded Skarbrand as the Chief Greater Daemon, suddenly discovered that his own god was weeping:

"My Lord.-

"Shut up! He finally called me father! He finally called me father! Hahaha, you Tzeentch birdman, don't blame me!"