Bona tossed the unconscious Horus back, drawing cries of surprise from the Four Gods.
Look at that. That was real strength.
Their original plan had required a series of plots and schemes to achieve this goal. Now it had been accomplished so easily.
With raw power like that, who besides Tzeentch would bother with such convoluted schemes? Which of their followers in the material world could face a Legion of the Great Crusade head-on, let alone snatch its Primarch away right before its warriors' eyes?
"Tell me, why didn't you kill him?!" Bona roared in displeasure.
The Grandfather's voice rang out again.
"Child, we should give everyone a chance to mend their ways, shouldn't we?"
Bona wanted to say something, but glanced again at Horus, lying unconscious on the ground.
"Fine."
"Yes, go and get some rest. We'll send you back to Terra shortly."
"All right."
Bona left for the time being.
The Four Gods looked at the unconscious Horus and began their work of brainwashing him.
The seeds of suspicion had long since been planted by the Cursed One himself, and what they did was simple.
They told this poor fellow a one-sided version of reality, and he would do what they wanted of his own accord.
The Four Gods patiently answered all of Horus's questions and generously bestowed some power upon him.
But at the same time, Horus's original soul began to shatter, gradually splitting apart.
Yet no one noticed that a fragment of Horus's shattered soul had accidentally slipped into the Warp. None of the Four Gods paid it any attention.
But this soul fragment seemed to be caught in a black hole's pull. It hurtled through the Warp and finally struck...
Bona stopped. He felt as though something had just entered his body.
But when he looked around, there was nothing.
While the XVI Legion was still gripped by terror, its warriors suddenly discovered that their Gene-Father had passed through the rift and returned to them.
"My children, do not be afraid. I have returned."
All the soldiers of the Imperium cheered, celebrating their Warmaster's victory over the terrifying enemy and his return to their side.
What none of them noticed, however, was that Horus's soul had already changed.
He looked at the gleaming Imperial Aquila on the towering Titan and could not help sneering.
Oh, but before I act, I need to deal with my troublesome brother-Magnus.
Prospero-
"No, what has that daemon done?!"
The Red-Eyed Cyclops cried out. Through the Warp, he had glimpsed something unbelievable.
Horus was dead.
The Horus still alive was merely a puppet.
He wanted to warn his father of the terrible truth that the Warmaster had turned traitor.
But the raging Warp Storm left the Astropaths all but blind, and even warships that braved death to carry a message vanished without a trace after entering the Warp.
In the end, Magnus gathered his most gifted sons, and together they settled on a course of action.
They would pool the Psyker Power of the entire Thousand Sons Legion so that Magnus could send a powerful psychic message to Terra.
The Warp Storm could not intercept a psychic message this powerful, and it would be loud enough for his father to notice everything.
Of course, if there were any consequences, the worst would probably be accidentally waking his father from his sleep.
Bona finally had a rare moment of leisure.
To be honest, this was his first time using psychic power on such a large scale in the material world, and he had not quite adjusted to it.
To put it another way, being in the Warp was like soaking in warm water, his whole body light and comfortable.
Being in the material world, on the other hand, was like living on the surface of an enormous planet, constantly struggling against immense gravity.
Suddenly, he saw...
A tremendous psychic shock wave flashed past his eyes. Accelerated in stages like a rocket, it slammed toward the other side.
Bona frowned slightly.
Who was bold enough to use Psyker Power on that scale so recklessly?
Weren't they afraid of blowing something up?
"My brothers, we have all been deceived. All of humanity has been deceived."
"Our father, that bastard who calls himself the 'Emperor,' intends to sacrifice all of humanity to achieve his own ascension to godhood."
"I ask you here, in the name of humanity, to abandon your blind loyalty to the False Emperor and uphold true justice together."
Horus looked at his brothers.
Angron, who commanded the World Eaters, Fulgrim, who commanded the Emperor's Children Legion, and Mortarion of the Death Guard.
"If what you say is true, I'm not surprised in the slightest," Angron said irritably.
"I agree. I've heard some... truths as well." Fulgrim smiled faintly.
Mortarion said nothing.
Horus nodded.
"Before we act, we must purge the False Emperor's lackeys from our Legions."
"And..."
Horus looked at those three troublesome Legions.
The Ultramarines, hailed as the "Sons of War," a vast Legion with formidable logistical capabilities.
The Blood Angels, with their mighty "Perfect Angel."
And the mysterious First Legion.
Fortunately, that foolish False Emperor had appointed him "Warmaster." He could still lead these fools around by the nose.
Rogal Dorn was shocked when he received the news.
"Horus has turned traitor?" Even the unyielding Dorn showed considerable shock at that moment.
Captain Garro knelt before him with tears streaming down his face, weeping silently as though mourning his fallen brothers.
Even Rogal Dorn, known as a "stone," now paced anxiously back and forth.
The Sons of Horus, the Death Guard, and the Emperor's Children-three entire Legions had rebelled!
And they were now slaughtering the remaining loyalists within their Legions on Istvaan III.
The most dependable Legions at present-the Ultramarines, the Blood Angels, and the Dark Angels-were all unreachable, as though they had vanished entirely.
Dorn swiftly made his choice.
"Order the Iron Hands, the Iron Warriors, the Salamanders, the Raven Guard, the Night Lords, the White Scars, and the Alpha Legion to proceed to Istvaan and defeat the traitor Horus."
"Brother Manus of the Iron Hands will serve as supreme commander. The rebellion must be crushed."
As soon as Dorn finished, something seemed to occur to him.
"On second thought, the White Scars will remain on Terra. Send the Word Bearers instead."
Whatever the details, the overall situation was clear.
Seven loyal Legions against three traitor Legions.
The advantage is ours!
"You're all damned traitors!"
Manus roared in fury.
Behind him, three entire Legions-the Iron Hands, the Salamanders, and the Raven Guard-had been squeezed into a narrow space and were being slaughtered at will.
Ahead lay the traitor army led by Horus.
Behind them were the shameless betrayers.
The Iron Warriors, the Night Lords, the Word Bearers, and the Alpha Legion.
All four Legions, which should have joined them in defeating Horus, had launched their attacks-but those attacks were directed at them.
The warriors of the three loyalist Legions were penned into a small clearing on Isstvan V, where the traitor Legions brought all their firepower to bear and harvested their lives like livestock at slaughter.
"My dear brother, surrender! The False Emperor isn't worth it!" Fulgrim howled.
"Never!"
Then, amid despair and chaos, Fulgrim, empowered by a Keeper of Secrets, struck off the head of his dearest friend, Manus.
And with him perished what little remained of Fulgrim's soul.
After the Imperium's few remaining effective forces had been eliminated, the gates to Terra lay open.
Warmaster Horus stood on the bridge of the Vengeful Spirit, surveying the immense fleet.
Black vapor swirled around him, and the power of the Warp swelled within his body.
"At last, we have reached this point."
Horus gazed at the shining planet in the distance.
"I have returned, sacred home-Terra."
"And I will deliver you from the False Emperor's tyranny."
"In my name."
"Let the world burn!"
Before you continue