"Father had grown even stronger. He hadn't been capable of this before... It was like a god."
Ezekyle Abaddon gazed at his father and sighed from the bottom of his heart.
He took pride in Horus's transformation. As the Wolf Lord's most favored son, Abaddon's eyes held only his father.
Horus had forcibly enslaved the massive Blackstone Fortress, making it follow the Vengeful Spirit and the fleet as they translated back into the Warp.
Having revealed merely the tip of his strength, the Wolf Lord returned to his throne room and sat upon his throne, calming the surging power within him.
They would return to the Beta-Garmon Cluster and fight a decisive battle against those lackeys of the false Emperor who believed they held the advantage.
"You should address him as the Warmaster, First Captain."
"That is the respect due to him."
Beside Abaddon, a sinister Astartes whose body was twisted as though ravaged by illness spoke. He wore no power armor, only a cloak, beneath which his grotesquely warped spine could be seen.
He leaned on a massive Legion standard, with nearly half his body hanging from it, yet he still insistently corrected Abaddon's overly intimate form of address.
Abaddon frowned, deep furrows creasing his excessively smooth, gleaming scalp. This man called the Twisted One was as detestable as ever.
The Twisted One, Maloghurst, had once been shot down during a negotiation mission when the Stormbird he was riding crashed from the sky. He had been gravely wounded in the fall.
His body had been left incomplete and broken. Though the Apothecaries had saved his life, he had become a twisted monster.
The Sons of Horus despised this grotesque brother.
Yet Horus had not abandoned or cast aside this loyal son. He had once been a strong contender for