Corpses—countless corpses belonging to Horus were piled high in the darkness. Some remains had decayed into white bone, while others were fresh, as if slain only moments ago. These many bodies lay across the gloom, forming a cage that tightly locked away the bright moon hanging in the heavens.
Loken felt a bone-chilling cold. He realized that the hollow, rotting, or faintly glowing eyes of those corpses were all looking at him in unison. +Loken+
The corpses seemed to speak to him. Loken's throat moved; he saw it. He saw the black sun, he saw the Dark King, and he saw Horus Lupercal. The Warmaster was fractured, incomplete, seemingly cobbled together from shattered remains. Yet, the Warmaster made of corpses raised his weapon toward the black sun, denouncing the great dark orb as a pretender to the Emperor of Mankind. He said he would never submit to a dark will; he believed the words the Emperor had spoken to him and remembered his oath: "I shall stand at His side. I am His first Primarch. I will lead humanity into an era of peace and prosperity—into an age without the oppression of the xenos, an age where human error no longer hinders us."
"I will cast light upon every grain of soil, every inch of ocean reclaimed by man."
"To those in the dark, I shall bring light."
"To those in ignorance, I shall bring wisdom."
"To those in hardship, I shall bring aid."
"To those wasting away, I shall bring guidance."
"To those in peril, I shall bring help."
"I broke this oath once, but I shall not make the same mistake again."
The Warmaster's gaze was searing and bright. "And you, Pretender, are not our Emperor of Mankind."
"Conquering the stars is humanity's Manifest Destiny; the Emperor told me so, and I believe it firmly."
"You seek to incinerate the stars and destroy humanity's destiny. How could you possibly be the Emperor?"
Thus, the Warmaster launched a futile charge against the black sun.
The Wolf Lord was murdered by the Dark King.
His body fell to the ground, and the Dark King cast the remains into the darkness.
Then, the Dark King's fell power began to reshape the flesh. Warmaster Horus revived once more before the black sun—just as Daemon Primarchs are resurrected and reshaped by the Gods time and again. His recent memories were erased, and he was summoned back to the world of men. Yet the Warmaster still raised his weapon, once again declaring his mission, declaring he would not bow to death itself: "I am His sword. I bring death, but not for death's sake."
And so, the Warmaster was killed yet again.
The Dark King threw the corpse into the dark and resurrected the Warmaster in the same manner once more...
"I do not wish to be a Destroyer."
"I do not wish to murder the entire human race."
"I am His Warmaster, not your slave, Destroyer of Worlds."
"Father once said that death would not belong to mankind."
"I have, at least, the courage to die rather than submit."
Time and again, Horus was resurrected, placed before the Dark King, rejected the black sun, and was killed by it. The corpses piled into mountains. The Dark King's power reshaped Horus repeatedly, and each time, that power reconstituted his body—much like the Gods use their own essence to form the bodies of Daemon Primarchs. With every reconstruction, Horus's inner self was eroded by the Dark King. The chains of the Dark King gradually seeped into the depths of Horus's soul, binding his essence firmly to the altar of the Dark King. He was the reincarnation of humanity's post-Golden Age resurgence, the avatar of the last truly ambitious era of man, yet driven by the Gods' intense self-destructive urge, he became the catalyst for human decline and the sacrifice for the Dark King. Through millions of deaths and millions of corruptions, as the corpses layered into a prison, the Dark King finally achieved control over Horus, making itself a part of his soul.
"No..." Loken whispered in sorrow. The moonlight struck those corpses and was instantly tainted by the dark. The moon in the sky dimmed with terrifying speed, turning into a completely black moon—a reflection of the black sun. That black moon was mirrored in Horus's eyes. The Wolf Lord slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with the silence of death. His face was shrouded in darkness. Standing behind Horus, the brown-skinned girl cast her vote into the Council of Four Kings. That black moon was her vote. The darkness completely overwhelmed the lunar disc. The things symbolized by the Dark King, Abaddon, and Little Horus crushed the things symbolized by Loken, Torgaddon, and Sejanus. +Destroy them+ +Kill them+
The voice of the Dark King rang in Horus's ear, tempting him to utterly kill the parts of his soul that resembled Loken, Torgaddon, and Sejanus—to kill those last things cloaked in moonlight.
"No," Horus refused the Dark King's temptation with a tone bordering on stubbornness.
Little Horus and Abaddon also stood on the other side of the Dark King; they chose fealty to the Dark King but refused to kill Loken, Torgaddon, or Sejanus...
But the Dark King did not care. This was enough.
The brown-skinned girl looked up. The card representing Horus seemed soaked in darkness. Intense shadows flowed back into Alexander through the power he had used to penetrate Horus. Alexander's already frail-looking body curled up further; blood flowed from his eyes, and blood trickled from his clenched teeth.
The girl smiled.
Horus let out a terrifying roar. Thick darkness surged from his body, instantly healing his wounds. Simultaneously, he swung Drach'nyen with violence. Intense killing intent tore through the crimson fabric wrapped around it. The Reflection Cloak launched the writhing murders in all directions, yet failed to harm Horus in the slightest, as if he and murder itself were now indistinguishable.
The azure blade raged with blood as it pointed toward Sanguinius. In total contrast to Horus, Sanguinius's aura weakened rapidly. His face grew pale, and he fell to the ground, clutching the blood pouring from his chest, looking at Horus with a gaze of profound sorrow.
Horus closed his eyes slightly; in the end, he did not strike with the blade.
He looked toward the heavens. The battlefield that transcended reason, existence, and form had changed. Between the clouds, the body of the Void Dragon—made entirely of light—appeared, but it was curled up from the constant drop in temperature. The Angel of Extinction, born from Aeldari divinity, manifested abruptly and seized the Void Dragon by the throat, locked in a death struggle.
Behind the Angel of Extinction, the brown-skinned girl separated from the entity. That avatar of the Dark King stepped toward the Tree of Life standing on the horizon. It had won. It was time to pluck the fruit.
Horus withdrew his blade. He cast a final look at Sanguinius, then turned to walk toward the Tree of Life.
The girl gently touched the Tree of Life, feeling the powerful life force flowing within. The first Old Ones had sprouted in the third minute of the universe's birth. In a brief span of minutes, they evolved, recombined, and developed, forming the first civilizations and intellects. They grasped infinite wisdom from the sights of the universe's dawn and sensed the existence of another sea of eternal energy—an uncooled universe. Perhaps that universe was the reflection of the material one, another possibility where the universe never cooled, possessing infinite energy, density, and space. That universe lacked physical laws; belief, will, and intellect could warp it at will and even reshape the material universe through it. Thus, they mastered the authority that later generations would call "godhood." Yet, they felt lonely after their birth. Their thoughts swept across that realm of thought later known as the Warp, and they marveled at its dead silence. Aside from the original Old Ones, this expanding material universe contained no other life, let alone any other intellect.
So, they resolved to sow the seeds of life across the galaxy. Using technology now utterly impossible to achieve, they took sparks of life from reality and sparks of soul from the Warp, merging them to form these living vessels and sowing seeds of life across the stars.
Almost all life in the galaxy originated from this...
That life force was now flowing through the girl, deeper into the Warp, into that black sun that had been silent for so long.
THUMP!!!
The Gods wore expressions of terror. The demons trembled. People in the material world heard the sound almost simultaneously. it was a heartbeat—as if the heart of a stillborn child had been reinjected with blood, giving its first pulse of life.
That black sun began to float upward from both the material and Warp layers. On every planet, even those in the dead of night, people looked up to see the black sun occupying the most prominent position in the sky, expanding continuously as if to swallow every world.
Guilliman struggled to rise from the snow. His remaining heart beat violently, struggling to pump blood through his frame to recover from his heavy wounds. Yet Guilliman also felt as if another heart, not of this world, was supplying blood to his body, nourishing him. Guilliman saw himself as if shrouded in darkness; that version of himself looked up, gazing at the Tree of Life and the brown-skinned girl.
"If it were me," that dark-shrouded Guilliman said, "I would be a little smarter."
Guilliman watched this scene. He did not know much, nor did he understand the Warp deeply, but his instinct, his intuition, and his political nose allowed him to smell the scent of a conspiracy.
In that second-floor room covered in yellow sunlight, Alexander gently wiped the blood from his mouth. The flies in the air buzzed with a sense of concern; they worried for Alexander's condition, even if they themselves had been heavily wounded for the plan.
Others were present. The Hound's roar betrayed excitement; he was ready for a sufficiently cruel final battle, waiting to see if the sliver of crimson distilled from ten thousand years of slaughter was hotter, or if the darkness would cover it entirely.
The birds outside the window chirped, scolding Alexander for his failure, then began trying to weave a new fate to escape the destruction the birth of the Dark King would inevitably bring.
The snake hiding in the corner raged impotently, demanding why Alexander had failed so completely, cursing him for plundering its power only to achieve this result.
Alexander ignored them. He slowly wiped the blood from his lips and the bloody tears from his eyes. He stood up slowly. In an instant, his sickly demeanor vanished. His gaze was bright and clear. The sound of turning gears, the roar of the swarm, the praises of the Machine, and the aroma of food surrounded him. Two forms of divinity intertwined and surged within him—stronger than any of the Four Gods. Even Tzeentch in the days before he broke his staff and scattered magic into infinite space-time could not rival him. The Four Gods held their breath; they clearly sensed Alexander's state.
Grand and massive twin domains—wicked techniques and greedy dissolution formed from a hundred million tides of thought—had truly converged in the hands of a mortal will. Alexander had truly commanded the entire body using only the will of a single cell...
Beside the Tree of Life, the brown-haired girl's face was filled with shock, staring at Alexander in total disbelief.
Alexander smiled slightly and shook a medicine bottle in his hand. "Pseudo-Sickness Medicine," he said softly.
It was a relatively obscure gadget from the Doraemon series; its effect was merely to make the user appear sick without actually being ill.
The girl could not understand. If Alexander had been in a complete state from the beginning—a completeness that surpassed the gods—why hadn't he...
Alexander smiled as he looked at the game board. He reached out and gently played his final card upon Horus Lupercal.
It was a bright gold ring, engraved with a Centaur crossing a battlefield...
Within Horus's soul, Loken saw a bright golden light tear through the darkness. Torgaddon's mouth hung open in shock, a smile touched Sejanus's lips, Little Horus was still in shock, and Abaddon trembled. Only Horus dared to look directly at that golden light with both eyes.
He saw that golden figure.
"Father."