"You..."
"You honorless, morally bankrupt counterfeit of Horus!"
The dagger had not completely dispersed Horus's echo. Though it had been torn into an unrecognizable state, its remnants still existed like strips of rotten flesh.
This completely nonphysical phenomenon proved that Ahriman's plan had indeed worked. They had been right not to treat Horus as the real Horus from the very beginning. He truly was an entity formed from concentrated Psychic Power.
Yet even an echo, an entity gathered from Psychic Power, a false puppet, possessed terrifying might.
The anger carried by the original's echo alone bound Clone Horus in place, leaving him unable to move, resist, or struggle.
The raging torrent of Psychic Power made Clone Horus feel as though he were being dragged into the Warp. He even saw countless hallucinations.
Beyond those hallucinations, his consciousness and thoughts were being pulled apart thread by thread, a pain like having his flesh skinned and carved away layer by layer.
Just as Clone Horus felt he could no longer endure, when even his soul was about to be torn into scraps by Psychic Power, he suddenly felt a warm force.
His eyes flew open, and he realized in shock that he was in the Warp.
That twisted environment, utterly defiant of the laws of physical reality, was the clearest proof of where he was.
But what Clone Horus felt was not fear or pain, but warm light.
A golden spherical object radiated a light so bright that Clone Horus could barely keep his eyes open as it slowly descended toward him.
"Father..." Clone Horus breathed.
The golden sphere instantly reminded Horus of Lord of Tyran's description of the Emperor in the Warp.
The sun.
It radiated golden light, yet was exceptionally cold.
Unlike what Lord of Tyran had described, Clone Horus