The Gruesome Insignia
From the outside, the Vengeful Spirit still looked like a solid, ancient ingot of iron. It drifted silently through the depths of space above Davin's orbit. Ever since Warmaster Horus had been wounded, it had stayed there without moving, and it seemed not to know where to go.
After all, Warmaster Horus's injuries were growing worse. He had already begun to lapse into unconsciousness. Without the Warmaster to command and coordinate the fleet, Abaddon and the others, who were only acting as its temporary leaders, certainly wouldn't dare issue orders in the Warmaster's name.
As before, the Vengeful Spirit continued to flaunt its power in the silent, dark depths of space above Davin. Even from a great distance, anyone on Davin with an astronomical telescope could easily make out the largest vessel in the fleet, its hull bearing hundreds of turrets and great cannons. The insignia of the Eye of Horus was set into its prow, signifying that nothing could escape Horus's gaze.
But there was something rather ironic about the situation now: the Eye of Horus set into the prow still glared furiously, but Horus himself hadn't opened his eyes in a day and a night.
Yes, Warmaster Horus had been unconscious for more than twenty-four hours. The physicians had done almost everything they could, but his life was still ebbing away, little by little.
Whether Abaddon and the others wanted to believe it or not, their Primarch, their Warmaster Horus, didn't have much time left. They had no choice but to make an important decision soon.
And yet!
That very day, on the command deck at the very top of the warship, Allie—wearing an Imperial Army officer's uniform—unexpectedly made her way toward a certain part of the strategic studies chamber.
The place ahead of her