Horus still babbled on about the Emperor's expectations for him, and the crown of glory the Emperor would soon bestow upon him with his own hands.
Excitement and joy gleamed in his eyes as his right hand unconsciously rubbed the golden ring the Emperor had given him.
"My lord." Maloghurst's voice was like a cold wind brushing across the back of Horus's head, leaving the triumphant Wolf Lord faintly puzzled.
"What is it, Mal? Is there something you wish to tell me?" Horus asked mildly. He disliked having his train of thought interrupted, but he forgave Maloghurst's rudeness nonetheless.
"My lord."
Maloghurst looked into Horus's eyes, then spoke in a voice dripping with blood.
"Wake up. Everything here is your illusion. Ullanor has long since passed. The flames of war you lit with your own hands burned all of this to ashes. You made the galaxy burn, and you cannot still linger here, in this moment of glory."
"What are you talking about, Mal?!"
Horus was somewhat angered. His son had gone too far, daring to joke about such a great undertaking.
How could he possibly commit such treason? His father had entrusted everything to him, and he had not dared to be careless for even a second.
He who wore the crown must bear its weight. Horus had already prepared himself to become Warmaster.
"My lord," the Son of Horus continued, drawing the ritual dagger embedded in Amarok's body.
Before Horus's eyes, the savage Warp daemon instantly revealed its true form, and it clearly startled the Wolf Lord.
"You filthy thing!"
Horus had just been about to kill the daemon with his sword, but the instant he drew it, everything before him vanished.
The Titans that had been marching became colossal wrecks toppled across the earth. Burning promethium and