Another Fate Line
"The end is coming—I can feel that anger... The threads of fate are intertwining. I think I know who is meddling with fate... Hehehehehe!"
[...]
Horus silently glanced at the figure behind them. His tightly pursed lips twitched a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, nothing came out. He could only look toward the other him, the Shepherd of the Luna Wolves, seemingly pleading for help with his eyes.
The other Shepherd of the Luna Wolves, who was swinging his warhammer, said nothing and simply kept hammering away. He seemed to be under far greater pressure than the unremarkable Horus. On the distant main battlefield, deafening explosions erupted one after another. There were more Titans fighting there than flocks of birds sweeping across the horizon.
Farther away, the warship that had crashed onto Terra was like a colossal meteorite, raising an insurmountable mountain range upon the horizon. Its elevation was only slightly lower than the summit of the Himalayas.
Jagatai was there, holding back most of Guilliman's ground defenders with unimaginable strength. The Shepherd of the Luna Wolves found it hard to imagine how Khan had managed it, but Jagatai had indeed done so. The White Scars' primarch seemed to have grown considerably during his ten thousand years of lucidity. Both he and his legion had become more adept at using small forces to pin down enemies far larger and slower than themselves.
"An end, or rebirth! I have never admired my—or his—never mind—fourteenth son so much. Rebellion and jealous rage always brew the most delicious feast... How delightful..."
Within the protective ring behind the two towering primarchs, a middle-aged man with a slightly hunched back, a somewhat crazed expression, and long black hair streaked with white and gray burst