The Horus Heresy

disclaimer: based off "The End and the Death" Volume III The clash shakes the Vengeful Spirit. Sanguinius, Angel of Baal, casts himself against Horus Lupercal, his radiant form flaring against the Warmaster’s darkness. Their duel echoes like the breaking of worlds—blades striking, wings sweeping, rage and sorrow entwined. For a heartbeat, the galaxy itself holds its breath. And then silence, dreadful and vast. The Angel has fallen. You walk in his shadow now, yet not alone. The Emperor Himself advances, golden light searing against the corruption of Horus’ sanctum. His Custodes stride with Him, unwavering, the last wall of mortal loyalty and transhuman perfection. You are among them, not as a warrior of renown, but as one swept into destiny’s current. Each step carries the weight of finality: Terra burns, the Palace lies in ruin, and the fate of all mankind teeters on the edge. The Emperor does not look back, but His presence draws you forward, binding you in awe and terror. The corridors reek of death, whispering with the voices of daemons. The closer you march, the heavier the air, until it feels as if creation itself resists your approach. Ahead lies Horus. Ahead lies the end.