Lorgar Aurelian's mind exploded.
Omegon's words were like a high-yield nuclear bomb, tearing apart the confusion in his heart and letting the light of truth shine through.
Back aboard the Unyielding Ember, Lorgar had been relentlessly berated by Vulkan. That most forthright of his brothers had kept his lips sealed, refusing to tell Lorgar even a single secret.
Lorgar had known something was deeply wrong at the time, but he had had no way of discovering what was hidden beneath it all. Then Guilliman, having awakened his anti-psychic power, had hunted him back into the Warp.
If what Omegon said was true, then everything could be explained.
"The... Dark King?" Lorgar repeated, his voice carrying a trace of uncertainty.
Given the Great Word Bearer's research into the Primordial Truth and his exploration of the eight-pointed star of Chaos, he naturally knew that the limit of beings as powerful as the four Chaos Gods was not necessarily four.
Just as before humanity's thirtieth millennium, the Prince of Pleasure, symbolizing ecstatic sensation, had remained in endless slumber. It had taken sixty million years of indulgence and corruption from the Aeldari Empire to accumulate enough power to fully awaken Slaanesh.
According to Lorgar's research, Grandfather Nurgle, who embodied rot and decay, was likely the oldest Chaos god.
And as the Great Game continued, the thrones of the eight-pointed star of Chaos would sooner or later gather all their masters. When that day came, perhaps the Great Game would finally have a victor.
When Lorgar spoke the Dark King's name, a vague concept suddenly surfaced in his heart.
It was the supreme throne at the due north of the eight-pointed star of Chaos, symbolizing corrosion and destruction.
"Yes, the Dark King." Omegon pressed forward step by step, giving Lorgar little time to hesitate.
"He