Holy Terra.
This was the cradle of the Imperium of Man, the eternal home of the Astronomican, and the starting point and heart of the Great Crusade that had swept across the Galaxy for nearly two hundred years, rekindling the spark of human civilization.
Here, the Emperor's will had once shone like a star. His grand vision had become a succession of inviolable decrees, transmitted into the darkness of deep space through the Choir and psychic communications networks that spanned the barriers between reality and the warp.
Tens of thousands of expeditionary fleets had weighed anchor here, carrying the Legiones Astartes, the armies of the Imperium, and the dream of restoring humanity's glory. Like countless steel spearheads, they had plunged into realms of ignorance and xenos, bringing lost worlds one by one back beneath the banner of the golden Aquila.
Now, Lorgar stood upon this legendary soil.
He stood on a magnificent platform overlooking part of the Imperial Palace grounds. Behind him lay the vast spaceport where the Law of Faith was docked; before him stood the Emperor's palace complex, a marvel that qualified as miraculous even by a Primarch's standards.
Spires soared into the clouds, magnificent walls stretched to the limits of sight, and colossal sculptures and archways gleamed gold and ivory beneath artificially regulated "sunlight"...
Together, they formed an overwhelming, suffocating symbol of humanity's might.
The air here was dry, carrying Terra's distinctive blend of ancient dust, ozone, and the scent of countless precision machines at work, accompanied by an omnipresent, low, eternal hum.
Lorgar's long black hair hung loose, cascading like a waterfall over his closely fitted golden Power Armour.
His armor was neither the vivid deep blue of the Ultramarines nor the bright yellow of the Imperial Fists. Its gold was more subdued, adorned with ancient