"Loken." Horus let out a cry that bordered on agony. He reached out his fingers, wanting to touch his most loyal son, to touch the last of the Luna Wolves.
As his hand rested on Loken's shoulder, feeling the solid reality of him, tears uncontrollably filled the Warmaster's eyes.
But Loken simply placed his hand slowly upon Horus's breastplate. The Primarch's hearts were beating powerfully, as if pumping liquid fire.
"I am not Garviel Loken. Your Garviel Loken died upon the Vengeful Spirit, died beside your corpse, his blood mingling with yours..."
Horus's body jolted. He recoiled violently, putting distance between himself and Loken.
He eyed Loken warily, scrutinizing him. "What are you?" Horus forced the question through gritted teeth. "Is this some curse carried by the Black Sword? A hallucination? A toxin seeping into my soul?"
Loken merely shook his head gently. "I am you. Do you not remember?"
"The moon has four phases, and the soul has four countenances. The Council of Four Kings is composed of the four parts of your soul."
"When Sejanus died—when a quarter of your soul died—it was I who filled that missing quarter."
"I am the Naysayer within your spirit, the one who voices dissent to your decrees."
"I was once cast out by you; now, I have returned to your side."
Horus stared at Garviel Loken, trying to discern whether this was a lie or the truth...
"Very well, Naysayer. If you communicate with me through the face of Loken, then for Loken's sake, I shall hear your counsel."
"What decree of mine do you deny?" Horus demanded loudly.
The scenery around him shifted as if projecting his will. The darkness began to retreat, and brilliant moonlight poured down from above, illuminating a well between him and Loken. A bright moon was reflected in the water; as the ripples subsided, it revealed the phase of a new moon.
"Warmaster, Wolf Lord, I ask you to hear my counsel. I veto your fealty to the Dark King, for it drives humanity and the entire galaxy toward annihilation."
"This counsel comes from the sincerity in your heart. You once believed the future could be better; why end that future now?"
The new moon in the well swayed gently. Loken gazed at Horus, awaiting his answer.
But before Horus could speak, the reflection in the water shook violently. The phase shifted to a half-moon. Where the darkness overlapped with the moonlight, a face strikingly similar to Horus's slowly emerged. Little Horus Aximand, wearing a mask of profound melancholy, hesitation, and lingering doubt, walked slowly behind Horus.
"Loken," Little Horus spoke softly. His words held no hostility, only sorrow and bitterness. "But if we betray the Dark King, would we not be repeating the mistake of those years past?"
"If you are a part of us, a part of Horus, you must be able to see them, surely?"
"Those suffering souls."
Loken lowered his head slightly, looking at the darkness beneath his feet. The darkness was like a water's surface, reflecting a black, deep sun. That sun was filled with wails of agony; countless restless spirits begged for total death, craving release from their torment. They suffered because of the mistakes Horus had once made, and now they implored him to end their pain.
"We should atone for our mistakes," Little Horus said gloomily.
The surrounding darkness pressed against the moonlight. The moon was no longer as bright as it had been moments ago.
Little Horus watched Loken with non-aggressive, melancholic eyes, but Loken felt the darkness increasingly shrouding Horus's mind. The sliver of moonlight he had torn open was retreating...
"Aximand!"
At that moment, a bright shout of fury tore through the darkness. Beneath the moonlight, a lithe figure leapt forward. "Is there even a shred of honor in the words you speak?"
The moon in the well shifted again, revealing a gibbous phase.
Tarik Torgaddon still wore his classic smirk. He nodded slightly to Loken, expressing the joy of a long-awaited reunion.
"Warmaster! Since you've allowed Loken to speak, allow me to voice my dissatisfaction as well!"
"Is there a shred of honor in what we are doing now?"
"Yes! We made mistakes. We caused the most horrific consequences and carry the most indelible sins."
"But must we burn the entire galaxy—the future, the present, and the past—to nothingness because of it?"
"Is this not cowardice? Is this not an escape!"
"When the Luna Wolves encountered a fortress they couldn't take, did they use an Exterminatus to burn the entire planet and its civilians to ash?"
Torgaddon questioned loudly as he stepped forward to stand beside Loken. The bright moonlight spread once more, temporarily forcing the darkness back and restoring the balance between light and shadow.
"Are you suggesting I am a coward?" Horus asked in a low voice, staring into the moon in the water.
"My Lord, if you feel I am being offensive, rest assured—I am doing it on purpose!" Torgaddon said with a laugh. "I have endured our cowardly actions for far too long!"
Torgaddon thumped Loken on the back. "I only found the chance to speak once this fellow finally returned."
Loken reached out, his hand gripping Torgaddon's firmly.
"Brother," Torgaddon said, smiling. "Straight and true."
"Straight and true," Loken tightened his grip.
"If we encounter a fortress that cannot be destroyed, we use an Exterminatus to destroy the planet! That is not cowardice—that is power!"
Suddenly, a feral roar erupted. From the deepest darkness, a towering figure slowly manifested.
The moon in the water shifted to a full moon. Abaddon walked with heavy, measured steps to stand behind Horus. "Loken! You are right—the Luna Wolves wouldn't do that. But the Sons of Horus would!"
"Can you not see? This galaxy is beyond saving! We shouldn't even try to save it anymore!"
"Look at this damned galaxy. See how foul fate mocks us, how it violates us."
"What we do now is not just to atone for past errors, but to take vengeance upon this galaxy."
Abaddon's face was alight with searing rage as he looked at Horus. "Warmaster! Only power—only the power to utterly destroy this galaxy and complete our revenge—is worthy of our loyalty."
"Nothing is nobler than hatred. Nothing is stronger than rage. Nothing is worthier of fealty than power."
"Let the galaxy burn! You know those are no empty words!"
The darkness—a darkness so deep it terrified Loken—began to overwhelm the moonlight like a collapsing dam. The illuminated area shrank until it barely covered Loken and Torgaddon. Even Horus's face began to vanish into the shadows.
Loken realized: he symbolized the sincerity in Horus's heart, the part that still believed in a better tomorrow. Opposite him was Abaddon, the hatred and rage within Horus over being toyed with by the gods ten thousand years ago. Torgaddon symbolized Horus's passion and honor, the most forward-driven part of the Warmaster. Opposite him was Little Horus, the guilt and hesitation. He needed the support of three out of the four to reverse Horus's decision and break him free from the Dark King's control.
Loken looked at Little Horus. Aximand's figure flickered between the darkness and the light, wavering and uncertain. His face was full of sorrow, as melancholy as autumn.
"Little Horus! Why do you hesitate?!" Torgaddon bellowed. "Can't you see the Warmaster is making the wrong choice? Can't you perform your duty as a member of the Council—as a quarter of the Warmaster's soul?"
"I am not sad! I am not 'gloomy'!" Little Horus barked back, though the hesitation on his face was impossible to hide. "You are too shallow, Torgaddon!"
"This is the quality of autumn. Moving from midsummer to midwinter. The old is behind, the new is ahead. Only by standing between them can one see clearly."
"I see you just standing between the end and death, waiting for the apocalypse to fall on your head and everyone else's," Torgaddon said bitingly.
"Not everyone is like you, knowing only how to charge forward!" Little Horus yelled back, seemingly stung.
"Little Horus," Loken said, staring at him. "You are right. We cannot always charge forward. Sometimes we must stop and observe our future to judge which direction to take. That is your responsibility among us."
"But we cannot stop forever. We stop in order to move forward. But look at the path we've chosen... it is a path to a future without a future. All things burned, eternal stagnation—where even the stagnation has died."
Hesitation clouded Little Horus's face. He slowly stepped away from Horus's side, but he did not walk toward Loken either. He stood in the middle, looking at the half-moon in the water, and shook his head.
"I abstain."
As Little Horus's voice fell, the darkness receded slightly. Moonlight reappeared, and the balance between dark and light was restored. Neither could overcome the other.
A deadlock once more.
"Warmaster," Loken said, looking at Horus, who was staring intently at the reflection in the well. "You failed to hear my counsel once before and fell into darkness. Will you make the same mistake again?"
Struggle and pain flickered across Horus's face. He looked up at Loken. "You don't understand, Loken. This is different."
"Chaos and the Dark are not the same."
"The Dark is not evil; it is a choice—an excellent choice, even."
"Do you see the hatred? Do you see the pain? Do you see the sorrow? Do you see the despair?"
"As long as this world exists, these things will never dissipate. They will only grow, eventually torturing every soul living in this world, even in death."
"Compared to that, is the Dark not the better choice?"
"Furthermore... regardless of whether He is truly our Emperor, the moment the Dark descends, at least all errors—"
"My Lord," Loken interrupted softly. "What about love? Happiness? Joy? Hope? Do these things exist in the Dark?"
"Love becomes indulgence; happiness becomes apathy; joy becomes debauchery; and your hope is often someone else's despair," Horus shook his head gently, dismissing Loken's words. "Look at the gods in the Empyrean."
"Is there any error in a person craving change? Yet change became Tzeentch."
"Is there any error in a person wanting joy? Yet joy became Slaanesh."
"Is there any error in a person possessing courage? Yet courage became Khorne."
"Is there any error in a person wanting to live? Yet life became Nurgle."
"We are not the error. The world itself is the error. Therefore, I shall destroy it."
Loken looked at Abaddon. He understood that the part symbolized by Abaddon was currently influencing Horus, letting his hatred for the world and his rage override everything else. Just a little more...
"Warmaster."
At that moment, a voice so soft it was barely a whisper rang out.
Hastur Sejanus...
Loken watched in disbelief as a thin, translucent figure manifested in the moonlight. That handsome face wore a trace of a sorrowful smile. His figure was broken, representing only a tiny fraction of Horus's soul, but he truly existed there...
Had the death of the Sejanus on that planet awakened this spark?
He was... the conscience and hope at the bottom of Horus's heart.
As his figure appeared, a shattered new moon was reflected in the well. Within that sliver of moon, many scenes flickered: humans—countless human figures—were reflected within it.
When a mother finished a long day of toil and lay exhausted in her chair, her daughter nestled against her knee. When a worker finally finished his shift and stepped into a dimly lit tavern, his friends were waiting with smiles to drink together...
When a gang member finally managed to drag his brother out of a war zone, the two of them hid in the ruins, looking at each other and laughing...
On a broken battlefield, an Imperial Guardsman sat on a collapsed girder, taking a harmonica left by his grandmother from his pocket. The melodious tune echoed across the most desolate of war zones...
"Look."
"The world you speak of, full of torment, pain, and error—the most fragile people have relied on their own resilience to persist in this world for ten thousand years."
"And you, who possess power far beyond any human... why can you not believe in your own ability to persist? Why can you not believe you can help humanity toward a better future?"
It was a faint glimmer of moonlight, flowing into the moon above. Yet it shattered the balance between the Dark and the Light. The moonlight began to overwhelm the darkness, illuminating Horus's face...
Loken felt a surge of joy. He could sense the Warmaster's mind slowly breaking free from the darkness, returning to—
Wait.
As the darkness faded, Loken saw things hidden within the shadows.
Corpses. Horus's corpses. Countless corpses belonging to Horus, piled high in every direction...