The instant the Wolf King drove the Spear of the Wine God into Horus's body, a resonance that transcended time and space rang out across different parts of the galaxy.
Within the Imperial Palace on Terra, deep inside the unimaginably vast Golden Throne, the Emperor—who was doing everything in his power to suppress the Webway—suddenly raised his head.
The increasingly withered lord of mankind stared blankly in a certain direction across the galaxy. His gaze crossed an immense distance and saw his two sons fighting desperately for their lives.
"Horus..."
"My son."
The lord of mankind's eyes brimmed with boundless fury and hatred, but they were not directed at Horus. He stared straight into the void before him, as though he could pierce the veil and speak directly to the four Warp gods.
"Why are you killing my son?"
"Why?!"
An exceptionally profound sorrow surged from the Emperor. This man, who bore everything in his heart, could no longer maintain his usual calm and composure at this moment.
No matter how often he said that "the primarchs are tools" and "sacrifices necessary for the great cause," they were still the sons he loved most.
He had once devoted himself wholeheartedly to teaching his eldest son everything about being human and about war. He had kept Horus by his side for thirty years. They were father and son, sovereign and subject, and close friends.
Horus understood how deeply his father longed to reunite scattered humanity. He hoped with all his heart that mankind could return to the open and prosperous Dark Age of Technology.
And Horus had given everything to help the Emperor fulfill that dream. He had become the Warmaster his father was proud of, exercising his authority and pursuing his dreams in his stead.
Even though Horus's rebellion had