The Spear of Telesto descended from the sky, colliding with Worldbreaker. Chaotic profane energy erupted like a surging tide, causing the veil of reality to let out a deafening roar. Horus felt a pang of sorrow. He did not know if the Sanguinius before his eyes was a specter, an illusion, or the true Sanguinius. His mind was not that clear; he simply felt grief over the fact that he would have to kill Sanguinius once more—to kill this most noble, beautiful, and perfect Primarch of his. Yet the situation defied Horus's expectations. Sanguinius's silhouette merely retreated slightly, completely redirecting Worldbreaker's force. He was still weaker than himself—Horus could perceive this—but not by much. Horus felt a wave of shock at this realization.
"Now, you and I are both blessed with a dual divinity."
Sanguinius merely spoke thus to Horus.
The Splitting Sword had carved Horus apart, dividing the fourfold divinity residing within him into two. The one standing before Sanguinius possessed only the blessings of Nurgle and Khorne. That dark, self-destructive disposition of the Gods flowed through Horus's flesh. He was currently slightly stronger than Sanguinius, purely because he was a more suitable, more flawless vessel than Sanguinius. No one was more fitting to stand in this position than Horus; even Roboute Guilliman was less pure than Horus regarding his fusion with Chaos. Guilliman commanded Chaos and held regency over Chaos, like a rider locking down Chaos with reins. Guilliman completely controlled Chaos, but he was not Chaos. He could indeed have chosen to completely fuse with Chaos, transcending Horus's connection to it and even becoming Chaos itself—he possessed that right—but he ultimately rejected that choice due to his humanity. He chose to eternally remain the Regent of Chaos, rather than being crowned as the true monarch of Chaos.
Horus, conversely, was completely opposite to Guilliman. Horus was a pure slave to darkness; every shred of his sanity and every internal aspect of his being was deeply bound to Chaos. Guilliman used Chaos as a weapon, but Horus was the weapon of Chaos. Horus was emotional, Horus was frantic, Horus was impulsive—yet it was precisely these flaws that allowed Horus to be forged by Chaos. He stood here on behalf of the entirety of Chaos; this was all he had become. He could not even be termed a living being; he was a ghost of Chaos. And precisely because of this, Horus was virtually impossible to kill or destroy. This had nothing to do with the power bestowed by the Gods; it was a characteristic inherently possessed by this vessel.
Another clash ensued. Alexander's power was currently flowing within Sanguinius's body. Dual domains and all sorts of gadgets provided Sanguinius with strength; with every breath, Sanguinius could perceive a torrent of the Warp flooding into his form.
Everything shattered within the collision of Worldbreaker and the Spear of Telesto. This spiral ebony court drifted far away amidst the clash between the two.
With one breath, the scent of scalding sand surged into Sanguinius's chest. A dim light shrouded the horizon, with Baal Primus and Baal Secundus hanging low in the distance. "Baal," Sanguinius softly whispered.
Yet a scalding heat wave drifted from behind him. Horus stood behind him, the Worldbreaker in his hand tearing apart the surrounding scenery bit by bit. "Truly a desolate planet," Horus evaluated in a low voice.
"But it remains beautiful here." Sanguinius threw open his arms, welcoming the light emitted by Baal's sun. "Don't you find this world a reflection of myself and my Legion? High nobility and sacredness nurtured within the darkest blood."
Sanguinius slowly turned around, looking toward Horus. "But you were born Father's most immaculate son. Why did you ultimately fall to such an extent?"
Horus did not answer; he merely let out a savage war cry, the warhammer in his hand swirling with blood as it smashed toward Sanguinius. Fury—pure fury—overwhelmed everything. Horus tackled Sanguinius, and the two fell out of the world. Crimson Baal drifted further and further away as they crashed heavily into the streets of a subterranean hive city. The corpses of gang members lined the narrow streets, and fractured pipes spewed toxic steam. The underhive of Cthonia was so dim, so cruel. Rubble fell from the ceiling as Horus knelt on one knee upon the ground, looking at a mortal corpse before him.
"Here, I killed one of my fathers."
Horus said in a low voice, "Among the gangs of Cthonia, only a killer is worthy of possessing a true name—a kill-name."
"Khagedon. He was the man who adopted me. On his deathbed, he made me kill him to exchange for my own kill-name."
"It was that very name that bestowed power upon me, making me realize what I was, truly awakening me, and causing my body to develop once more, possessing strength anew... Do you understand, Sanguinius? Names themselves possess power, and my name comes from patricide."
"We are all far too much like the Emperor. Dorn's stubbornness, your benevolence, Russ's arrogance, Angron's agony... all of these originate from the Emperor. And the Emperor will only lead us into ten thousand years upon ten thousand years of stagnation, decay, and pain. He has already proven that he cannot save humanity."
"If we cannot transcend the Emperor, we can never truly save humanity."
"Patricide—it is an atrocity, but also a necessary act."
"We must sever the past to obtain power and ascend to a higher plane of existence. This is justice."
"We are not just because we are powerful," Sanguinius said, gripping the Spear of Telesto as he walked toward Horus. "We are powerful because we are just. You have mistaken the reflection in the lake for the true starry sky."
"Power is merely the reason we win battles, not the reason why we fight."
"A man is at his weakest not when he lacks the strength to fight, but when he does not know what he is fighting for."
The Spear of Telesto and Worldbreaker crossed and collided once more. The two Primarchs, along with the power of their fourfold divinities, erupted explosively. The veil was torn asunder again, and the scenery before their eyes began to shift. "We both possess Legions belonging to us; they are extensions of us, a part of us."
Upon the Himalayan ridges, the twilight of dawn and dusk lingered over a pale plaza. Horus walked side by side with Sanguinius, who had just returned to the Imperium. "But Father did not hand your Legion directly over to you. Instead, he commanded you to journey with me. This was so you could acquire the knowledge of commanding a Legion, obtaining the strength capable of directing them."
"Is that so?" Sanguinius smiled, looking at Horus's visage. "I do not believe I lack strength, but I lack a reason to use it. I think Father preferred that you teach me exactly what we are fighting for."
"...If you meet your Legion, you will understand that you must learn first and possess strength first to control them, making them serve you." Horus shook his head slightly. There was no malice in his words, only worry; he did not comprehend why this noble brother of his would possess such a brood of scions.
"I have heard some rumors and gossip regarding my Legion. I do not believe they lack strength; they have simply lost their way."
Sanguinius gently shook his head. "I need to know what we are fighting for, and then bring my answer to them to lead them out from being lost."
Horus and Sanguinius gazed at each other, two concepts, two minds, and two wills impacting one another. Ultimately, they drew their weapons once more and clashed together.
He gently stepped across the veil of the Warp, time being lifted away like a veil. A city built upon seven hills was burning furiously. The Golden House was being constructed from the raging fires, where an absurd emperor led his sycophants in performing a debauched theatrical play. A young boy-monarch, originally male, was dressed in women's attire, lying upon a couch acting out childbirth. This obscene sight was actually a single thread within the memories of the Master of Mankind.
Horus looked upon this scene in wonder. Right at this moment, a soldier clad in centurion armor, holding a shield emblazoned with star and crescent patterns and a silver spear, emerged from a corner of the Golden House, standing right behind Horus.
"Father," Horus spoke with a smile, paying respects to his father.
"Emperor Nero," the Emperor spoke, gently opening his mouth. "During the first five years of his reign, we once believed a beautiful era had arrived."
"Yet his mind collapsed further and further across successive political struggles, immersing himself in art and murder, ultimately turning into this state."
"But don't you believe he possessed true power?"
Horus said:
The scenery around them shifted. Scorching fires burned fiercely as thousands upon thousands of humans were bound to pyres, burning within the darkness of the night. That young emperor watched all of this in rapture, while those gathered all around also let out roars, shouting to burn the Christians.
"This emperor framed the fire of Rome onto the Christians, using raging flames to burn them to appease the populace... You see, it was precisely because he liberated himself that he could unleash such powerful force. How much terrifying power was born within the Warp due to his indulgence? If only he knew how to use the Warp's power—"
"—a blackstone would drop from the heavens and crush him to death," the Emperor interrupted Horus.
The scenery around them shifted abruptly. They stood upon a patch of scalding, hot soil. A dragon—a silver, colossal dragon—was entrenched upon the earth, a star's light flashing within its chest, dazzling and piercing.
"The Void Dragon."
The Emperor uttered this title in a low voice. "The Dragon of Mars."
"A shard harboring its will has consistently remained entrenched here."
"He is the Master of Blackstone; his mere existence can suppress the Warp."
"It was precisely for this reason that the Gods consistently failed to interfere with the earliest evolutionary history of mankind."
"It wasn't until long after the Void Dragon was sealed on Mars, reaching the medieval period, that the interference of the Gods began to grow more frequent."
"Sealed? Mars?" Horus seemed to comprehend something.
"I also encountered him by chance at the roadside," a bitter smile traced the corner of the Emperor's lips. "This fellow was originally obsessed with playing dragons, knights, and princesses. Who could have guessed his background was this massive?"
Horus was just about to speak when he suddenly perceived...
The Void Dragon—the Void Dragon within the Emperor's memory—slowly raised its head. A pair of eyes burning with malicious flames locked dead onto Horus.
The Dragon of Mars let out a roar, and magnificent energy flooded into this space. The laws of the material universe were recreated by this energy in an instant. He transcended time and space, passing through his ten-thousand-year long dream to shape the Emperor's memory into reality, descending before Horus.
That complete C'tan extended its savage talons, and an energy storm akin to the annihilation of thousands of stars howled forth, smashing toward Horus's chest.
A trap!!!
Horus let out a roar, suddenly realizing he had been deceived by the Emperor. This memory was a trap laid down by the Emperor.
The clashing sound of weapons resonated upon the freezing Himalayas. Upon the plaza, two youths competed against one another. The young, already bald Horus wore leather armor, holding a training hammer forged of crude iron as he swung it toward the beautiful youth with golden hair and crimson eyes. Sanguinius lowered his stance, using the training spear in his hand to thrust toward Horus. Though Horus was young, he still displayed excellent combat instincts, flashing aside to evade Sanguinius's spear thrust.
Upon the high dais beside the plaza, Father stood there, gazing upon the battle between the two, revealing a satisfied smile and nodding frequently in praise.
Whose memory was this?
Horus pondered. No, this was nobody's memory; this was his craving.
Upon the high dais, the Emperor of Mankind slowly raised the burning blade in his hand, pointing it straight toward Horus Lupercal.
Lupercal's court fell into complete disintegration. The magnificent power of the Void Dragon, Sanguinius's Spear of Telesto, and the Emperor's Sword pressed against the chests of the two Horuses, pushing them together toward Alexander's direction. Alexander had already pulled the Anywhere Door from his pocket, and the two Horuses were being pushed toward this Anywhere Door simultaneously.
Before Sanguinius's Spear of Telesto and the Emperor's blade, the armor upon Horus's form was torn away layer by layer. The high temperature released by the Void Dragon melted the blackstone, which turned into thousands of needle-spikes piercing into his body. Intermixed with the material universe's resistance against the Warp, it weakened the power upon Horus's form layer by layer, pushing him toward that Anywhere Door. The two Horuses did not know what lay behind that door, but they clearly knew that they absolutely could not approach it. They had to—
Bang!!!
The boltgun howled and roared. Garviel Loken pulled the trigger, as if the machine spirit perceived the resolution of this final Luna Wolf. The machine spirit bestowed a miracle upon the ammunition; two bolts shot out from the boltgun almost simultaneously, exploding upon the faces of the two Horuses at the same time. Under normal circumstances, this would be nothing but a minuscule strike, incapable of causing any damage to Horus. Yet at this very moment, the agony brought by being ambushed by his most beloved son genuinely caused Horus's movements to falter for a single fleeting instant. That was enough. The two Horuses fused back together, being pushed completely into that red-tinted pink wooden door.
Guilliman looked toward that wooden door that had suddenly appeared behind Horus. The shock in his eyes flashed by as he rapidly realized what Alexander wanted to do.
Without a shred of hesitation, he abandoned Alexander and the Emperor, charging straight toward that wooden door.