Horus, Warlord of the former Emperor of Mankind and Chosen of the four True Gods awoke with a small scream of hatred. Rising to his full, magnificent height he bellowed a battlecry and his hand went for his weapon and–
– it wasn't there. He paused. That wasn't like him. The instructions drilled into his head by his so called ''father''' had been sure of that. If there was one thing that old fool had taught him it was the value of a good weapon at your side. He shook his head as though to clear a lingering headache. To his mounding horror, he found that he was not only absent all his weapons but his armour seemed effected as well. The servos all seemed to be none-functional and it was an effort just to move. A lesser being might have been bound by the heavy suit of offline armour but he was a Primarch. The single greatest of all his traitorous fathers many sons. With a small grunt of effort, he rose to his feet.
By now he was not surprised to find that his helmet was gone. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he drew out the power bequeathed to him as his true birthright. The strength of Chaos Undivided flowed like a glorious river into his body. Yes, that was better. Now, what did he remember? The last few seconds were a terrible mixture of feelings, sensations... He recalled a brilliant light, a feeling of triumphant victory! He had won! The Emperor lay dead, his fool of a brother died short before him. He still remembered the meaty sound of his weapon ripping through armour; of his brother's shocked and betrayed look as the last of his life-blood flowed from his veins. Horus licked his lips as he remembered the betrayal. So sweet... And then his lost cause of a father had tried to reason with him, tried to stop him. He had feared the power that Horus had mastered. The old man had attempted to lock away something that would never die and had paid the price.
A jolt of Warp lightning seared from his fingertips as he thought this. Yes, his father had felt the consequences of his foolish crusade against that which was more than he could ever be. He was dead now... Horus was sure. Though the last few seconds were a blur of motion. He struggled to sort his memories out, to make sense of what he had seen and done.
He remembered fighting and killing his angel-winged brother.
He remembered facing his father and laughing in the face of the old fool's refusal to strike back at full power. As though Horus were simply some misguided child that could be brought to heel with stern words and a show of kindness.
He remembered the lone guardsman. The man who had come upon the end of the fight. He was scared nearly witless by the varied glories of Chaos that his ship now played host to. He was wounded, bleeding. His soul had called out to Horus like a small flame in the darkest night.
He remembered the guardsman's cry of rage and horror upon seeing the fallen form of the dying Emperor.
He remembered the fool throwing himself between the Emperor and his son, as though a mere human could get between two warring Gods.
He remembered killing the guardsman with a contemptuous ease. Feeling the energies of his soul as it was sapped by the ship.
He remembered his father's cry of rage, the sudden strength that seemed to flow into the old man. He remembered some power snatching the guardsman's soul from Horus grasp.
He remembered the blinding light.
Horus was assailed by a sudden, dizzying doubt. Why could he not remember the death-blow? Surely he would not have been foolish enough to leave his father there, dying yet still with strength to him? Such would be foolishness of the highest magnitude. Even in his former life as a slave to the decrepit Emperor he never would have been so monumentally stupid as to leave a living enemy at his back. So why then could he not recall just how he had won the fight? Unless...but it was a foolish thought. He couldn't have lost. The powers of Chaos Undivided were unchallenged, not even his father could prove to be more than an insect to be crushed at will.
So where was he then...?
"This is the desert. You must walk it alone."
Horus spun with a jolt of speed faster than the un-augmented eye could follow. His right hand reached out and launched a searing volloy of Warp Lightning, enough to cook the body like overripe meat and to send the soul screaming into whatever Hell the Great Four deigned appropriate for striking at their champion. The humanoid figure in the deep black cloak staggered back. Fat sparks leapt about and spat off his body as he righted himself and rose to his full height. It was not very impressive. For a human he might have been threatening, a cold, demanding figure clothed in darkness. But Horus was a Primarch and Chosen of the Four True Gods. No mere mortals could stop him. He charged intent on smashing his massive fist through the suicidal idiot's chest and crushing him once and for all.
The mortal stopped him.
Horus was never sure just what happened next. Even for a Primarch who moved so fast as to be invisible to the mortal eye what happened next was impossible to follow. His fist struck at the figure, the body seemed hollow...empty. It gave way immediately. But there was not that most satisfying crunch of meat and bone breaking under his assault. Merely, an emptiness. A void. Then he was tumbling, losing his footing as he smacked face-first into the sand around him. Rolling, he rose with a bellow of rage. He called upon all the strength given to him by his patrons and let loose a sizzling, spitting orb of flames. It didn't work quite as he had planned. His reserves began to wan as soon as he started the spell and with a chocked cry of surprise he felt it fail. What happened? He raged to himself.
His mysterious opponent answered.
" Your masters are withdrawing their support."
"And how would you know?" Horus sneered. " A foolish human like you shouldn't even be in my presence. You aren't even worthy to lick my boots."
" I am impressed." The spectre continued totally ignoring Horus's insult. Now the Primarch noted the strangeness, the emptiness that the figure seemed to spread about it like a cloak. The sombre tones of its voice that reverberated inside his head. "Most spirits cannot retain cohesion for long after death. I suggest you refrain from any more activity."
Horus opened his mouth to retort but before he could say anything he fell to his knees. Agony pounded through his body. The worst pain he had ever felt.
"What did you do?" He hissed through clenched teeth.
"I did nothing. Your illusions are being stripped away."
Horus's retort was cut short. Again he saw himself strike down his brother, Sanguinius. But though he saw the same image now he felt none of the triumph that had marked his mind so recently. Now he saw the image of his beloved brother and trusted friend. Who he had fought by side with for so many years. Now he saw the flash of betrayal in his brother' eyes and felt not the joy that he had once thought to. Now he felt a stab of regret and shame. Now he saw the life leave his brother, bleeding onto the floor of his own starship and he wanted to scream.
"AAARGH!" He growled, clutching his head. " Stop it! This is lie. You...you're not a mortal but you are not one of the True Gods. You are trying to twist my faith and I will not allow it!"
"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. I've never understood that sentence. It seems logical that an angel would be able to get out of any situation wherein a sufficiently foolish human could possibly get themselves into. But in your case... I believe it is appropriate."
"What are you doing?" Horus gasped. More memories rose tugging at the heart strings he would have thought long since cut. He saw that same trooper who had put himself between Horus and the Emperor but this time he did not feel the smug sense of superiority. Now he felt sick. Sick as he watched himself kill the man without so much as a second glance. He saw the grim look in the man's eyes as he charged... that trooper knew he was going to die and he fought on anyway. Why? Why? For a foolish Emperor who was not worthy of the True Gods? Why had he stood and fought? Why had he given his life?
"I told you before. Nothing. When one is dead the comforting little lies that one tells oneself all melt away. For most this is not particularly traumatic. For you... Well your recent life has been little but lies."
Now he saw his Space Marines, his sons. His Luna Wolves. All marching in a strict formation. The memory brought a smile to his face and pride to his heart even now. That was on Terra. When he was the first to be found. His father had presented him to his Legion and for the first time since arriving Horus had known that he belonged. But he hadn't belonged surely? Even then he had known his father to be little but a petty tyrant who subjected the followers of the true power of the universe... hadn't he? Then why did he feel so proud that day? So proud that it reverberated even now in his damned and cursed soul.
Last, he saw his Emperor. His father. Lying on the ground in blood-stained armour. His hand up-raised as though to impeach Horus to end this madness. There was still time, his eyes seemed to say. Still time to turn back from the path of war. Horus had cackled and called him weak, insulted him and dared to wonder how such a weak man had produced a God like himself... But now he looked back on that scene with fresh eyes and he saw what really had happened. His father had sacrificed himself, his own blood on the alter to buy time for his favoured son to realise what he had done. And in the end, he had watched those same eyes harden. As the blood of the guardsman stained the ship's metal floor and swam and mixed in with that of his brother and his father. As that red fluid had united and flowed together as though it were the same... as though all of them were the same. Then he had saw the last of the love and the hope leave his father's eyes.
At the time he had laughed again and known his victory was nigh but now... now he felt chilled to the very bone. What have I done? Gods of the Warp what have I done?
The whole war flashed before his mind's eye, all the killing, the brotherhood. The Legions apart and yet the same. His brothers and friends and his father all fighting and winning and battling side by side. All of it for humanity, all of it to secure a safe heaven so that one day... one day all the fighting, the marines and even Horus and his brothers would not be needed. That one day humanity might be at piece.
All gone now. Shattered. A dream destroyed by his own blood-stained hand. He who had urged his brothers to betray their father. He who had dragged some of them with him and drawn them into the embrace of the Warp. All the death, brother fighting brother. All the souls sent screaming by unjust demise. It all came down to him.
All down to him.
And he saw again, the bright searing light. And felt the agony of his body breaking apart, his very soul being ripped and obliterated.
" So I am dead then."
"No."
Horus looked up at the figure. Despite his smaller stature he seemed somehow to be taller than the Primarch. Horus still couldn't see his face but the man felt ancient. Like how the Chaos Gods had felt save that this being had none of the edge of them. None of the raw hunger. He didn't exist to feed, he wasn't there to gorge on the souls of the fallen. He simply existed.
" Your father destroyed your soul utterly in his final attack.. What you are now Lupercal is an idea."
" So what waits for me...?"
"Oblivion, paradise. One of the Hells perhaps. It is not my place to decide."
" What do I do?" Demanded Horus, " So much blood is on my hands! I killed him, didn't I? My father... and my brother... and who knows how many others... what shall I do?"
" You will walk this desert. You will walk it alone. There are two paths you may take Horus Lupercal."
A single bone finger rose and pointed into the distance, Horus, with his superhuman eyesight could just about make out a jagged-looking mountain.
" That is where you may go to find what is in store for you."
" What is it?"
"Judgement."
"If, however you do not feel that you can face that there is a second path."
Another hand rose, curling to a finger which pointed off into the distance. Even Horus could not see where the figure gestured to. All he knew was that it was very far away.
"That is where you may go if you wish."
"What is there there?"
The figure shrugged. " It is different for each being. For you? I do not know. Only you can."
Without another word, Horus set off. His monstrous frame seemed void of strength as he struggled like a newborn over dunes of sand.
"Which path is he choosing?" Asked a voice from beind the cloaked figure.
Death, Destroyer of Worlds, the Ultimate Reality and The One Before Whom All are Equal turned and regard the figure that had formed out of the mist.
" I cannot tell. Though I gave direction in truth there is none. What he finds is what he can. With his heart and soul as guide."
"His soul is ravaged and his heart is corrupted."
"Yes." Observed Death. "If he can heal in time then he can perhaps find what he is looking for. If not... he is not even a spirit. Just a wild idea. A piece of history that never quite died. If he cannot earn his soul then he will wander for evermore."
"Why did you tell him about the second path? You didn't have to."
"Correct. Your pleas for him did not fall on deaf ears."
The second figure laughed; his ornate power-armour seemed to glow with an inner light as he slapped the shroud-covered figure in the back with enough force to crush a tank. Death didn't even look winded.
"Though you have no ears I appreciate what you have done for me this day."
"Then answer me this question." Said Death, turning to look at his companion for the first time since the conversation began. "Why? Why him?"
"In truth I do not know if I have an answer. But even after what he has done my soul aches to be with him as a brother and to heal him. To watch out for him. If we were born mortal it might be called a big brother instinct. Even after all he has done, I feel for him. Tell me please, if he is true to his soul and throws off the last taint of Chaos then what will he find out there? I know you said that you didn't know but I am also aware that you didn't tell him the whole truth."
"I would rather not say. To the chances of him throwing off the taint are not good. Not after all he had done and witnessed."
"Please."
Death was still for a moment. One might imagine that if he could have sighed he would have before he spoke a single word with all he weight of a proclamation from some God.
"Redemption."
The soul of the departed Primarch felt his lips curl into a small smile.
" That is all I ever wanted."
Then without another word he turned, with a single flap of his great, angelic wings he was gone and Death was alone in the desert.
Why do they do it? He wondered. Why did he wish a chance for his brother even after what had been done and could not be undone? Even with the taint so deep.
I do not think I will ever understand humans.
