"This was a nightmare you could never wake up from."
Watching the beams and shells streak past outside the cabin and the smoke rising from the ground, Oll Persson felt a surge of traumatic stress.
His muscles began to contract involuntarily.
"Has it really gotten this bad?"
His experience in the Thousand Sons' "paradise" had left Oll exhausted, but the problems within his own squad exhausted him even more.
The witch Aktea clearly harbored some secret, one that even involved Horus.
Although John had said he forgave him, Oll could sense his resentment.
He had not deliberately concealed the fact that he had once been the Emperor's first Warmaster.
It was simply too ancient, dating back to long before John had even been born.
Even if John came from the Cult, he was ultimately different from Oll, a natural Perpetual.
Had Aktea deliberately brought it up to drive a wedge between him and John?
Oll did not understand.
But the world held too many secrets to ever unravel them all.
And right now, he still had his duty. The ritual dagger had to reach the Emperor if they were to have any hope of victory.
The aircraft was rapidly approaching the palace.
But everything was worse than he had anticipated.
The Rebels had surrounded Terra's Hive City so tightly that nothing could get through.
"John, speed up! We need to go faster!"
Oll shouted at John, who was piloting the old cargo aircraft.
This journey was every bit as dangerous as expected.
If the aircraft was blown apart in midair, it would all be over.
The aircraft kept shaking and diving, sometimes because of John's maneuvers, sometimes because a hit knocked it off course.
Most of the impacts came from small-arms fire, with occasional Lasgun shots when they skimmed over