Blood dripped from the Claw of Horus all the way.
And when its bearer slowly came to a stop and looked ahead, the blood on the Claw of Horus had run dry.
Only a few feathers remained upon it.
The moment they saw those feathers, the clone Primarchs could guess whom they had come from.
Clearly, Sanguinius, who had been brutally slain ten thousand years ago.
Staring at the feathers on the Claw of Horus, Clone Sanguinius fell into shock and panic.
He felt ashamed of it, for he was afraid of an enemy. Yet he could not restrain that panic, because it emanated from the depths of his soul, impossible to suppress.
It was not only Sanguinius. The other clone Primarchs felt the same fear, a fear that welled up from the depths of their souls.
It was as though what stood before them was not Horus himself at all, but a killing machine driven by horrifying destructive power.
"If he is the echo of that duel, does that mean he cannot kill us?" Clone Horus gripped his sword tightly and asked Magnus in a nervous tone, stepping forward to stand before all his brothers.
"Of course he can kill us!" Magnus replied, his gaze sweeping over the dust drifting through the air.
That dust had once been combatants from both sides of the battlefield, but the moment Horus himself appeared, they had all turned to ash.
This proved that the final trace Horus himself had left behind in the Real Universe and the Warp still possessed the power to destroy others.
Magnus did not understand the exact principles, nor was he in the mood to study them. But he could guess that, much like Psychic Power interfering with and warping reality, the Horus before them was a remnant