This choice, which seemed to respect individual wishes, was nothing more than a formality.
Horus wanted all his clone brothers to go with him to find the Lord of Tyran, then enter the Warp alongside him and set foot on the God-Slaying Path, whose end was unknown.
And as a leader, Horus knew how to make his other brothers agree.
Even if not all of them were willing to enter the Warp.
"You're asking us?" Guilliman crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at Horus standing opposite him. "You've clearly already made the decision yourself! Let me guess—you already promised the Lord of Tyran that all of us would go into the Warp with him, didn't you?"
Horus looked down at Guilliman and nodded. "Yes. But I believe this is our best choice. If you aren't being stupid, you should reach the same conclusion I did."
"Bullshit!" Guilliman slapped the tactical table angrily. "I was planning to retire into seclusion. What gives you the right to decide for me?"
"You want to retire?" Horus frowned. "A superhuman like you has decided to give up everything you have, give up your talents, give up your duties, and run off to become a farmer?"
"If everything is over, why can't I? Just because I'm a Primarch, I have to keep working myself to the bone forever? And I'm a clone, on top of that!" Guilliman argued.
Horus wanted to say more about duty, but suddenly felt there was no need.
Because Guilliman was just like that. He might truly want to run away, but he would still shoulder his responsibilities.
So Horus changed his approach. "We should stay together, no matter what we decide to do. You know, we are..."
"Oh, spare me!" Guilliman said, looking toward his other brothers.