Table of Contents
   Cover
   Title Page
   The Horus Heresy
   Dramatis Personae
   PART ONE
   Prologue
   I
   One
   II
   Two
   Three
   Four
   Five
   Six
   Seven
   Eight
   Nine
   Ten
   Eleven
   III
   PART TWO
   IV
   Twelve
   Thirteen
   Fourteen
   Fifteen
   Sixteen
   Seventeen
   Eighteen
   Nineteen
   V
   PART THREE
   Twenty
   Twenty-One
   Twenty-Two
   Twenty-Three
   Twenty-Four
   Twenty-Five
   Twenty-Six
   Twenty-Seven
   Twenty-Eight
   Twenty-Nine
   VI
   Epilogue
   Acknowledgements
   About The Author
   Legal
   eBook license
   
   The Horus Heresy
   It is a time of legend.
   Mighty heroes battle for the right to rule the galaxy. The vast armies of the Emperor of Earth have conquered the galaxy in a Great Crusade – the myriad alien races have been smashed by the Emperor’s elite warriors and wiped from the face of history.
   The dawn of a new age of supremacy for humanity beckons.
   Gleaming citadels of marble and gold celebrate the many victories of the Emperor. Triumphs are raised on a million worlds to record the epic deeds of his most powerful and deadly warriors.
   First and foremost amongst these are the primarchs, superheroic beings who have led the Emperor’s armies of Space Marines in victory after victory. They are unstoppable and magnificent, the pinnacle of the Emperor’s genetic experimentation. The Space Marines are the mightiest human warriors the galaxy has ever known, each capable of besting a hundred normal men or more in combat.
   Organised into vast armies of tens of thousands called Legions, the Space Marines and their primarch leaders conquer the galaxy in the name of the Emperor.
   Chief amongst the primarchs is Horus, called the Glorious, the Brightest Star, favourite of the Emperor, and like a son unto him. He is the Warmaster, the commander-in-chief of the Emperor’s military might, subjugator of a thousand thousand worlds and conqueror of the galaxy. He is a warrior without peer, a diplomat supreme.
   As the flames of war spread through the Imperium, mankind’s champions will all be put to the ultimate test.
   Dramatis Personae
   The Primarchs
   Lorgar, Primarch of the Word Bearers
   Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the Ultramarines
   Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Sons
   Corax, Primarch of the Raven Guard
   Konrad Curze, Primarch of the Night Lords
   Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Iron Hands
   Perturabo, Primarch of the Iron Warriors
   The Word Bearers Legion
   Kor Phaeron, First Captain
   Erebus, First Chaplain
   Deumos, Master of the Serrated Sun Chapter
   Argel Tal, Captain, 7th Assault Company
   Xaphen, Chaplain, 7th Assault Company
   Torgal, Sergeant, Torgal Assault Squad
   Malnor, Sergeant, Malnor Assault Squad
   Dagotal, Sergeant, Dagotal Outrider Squad
   The Crimson Lord, Commander of the Gal Vorbak
   The Night Lords Legion
   Sevatar,First Captain
   Legio Custodes
   Aquillon, Occuli Imperator, ‘Eyes of the Emperor’, Custodian
   Vendatha, Custodian
   Kalhin, Custodian
   Nirllus, Custodian
   Sythran, Custodian
   The 301st Expedition Fleet
   Baloc Torvus, Master of the Fleet
   Arric Jesmetine, Major, Euchar 54th Infantry
   Imperial Personae
   Cyrene Valantion, Confessor of the Word
   Ishaq Kadeen, Official remembrancer, imagist
   Absolom Cartik, Personal astropath to the Occuli Imperator
   Legio Cybernetica
   Incaradine, Conqueror Primus of the 9th Maniple, Carthage Cohort
   Xi-Nu 73, Tech-Adept of the 9th Maniple, Carthage Cohort
   Non-Imperial Personae
   Ingethel, Emissary of the Primordial Truth
   PART ONE
   GREY
   Forty-three years before the events of Isstvan V
   ‘Kill me then, “Emperor”. Better to die in freedom’s twilight than draw breath at the dawn of tyranny. May the gods grant me my last wish: that my spirit lingers long enough to laugh when your faithless kingdom at last falls apart.’
   – Daival Shan, Terran separatist
 
   warlord, at his execution.
   ‘If a man gathers ten thousand suns in his hands... If a man seeds a hundred thousand worlds with his sons and daughters, granting them custody of the galaxy itself... If a man guides a million vessels between the infinite stars with a mere thought... Then I pray you tell me, if you are able, how such a man is anything less than a god.’
   – Lorgar Aurelian, Primarch
 
   of the Word Bearers
   ‘There is no surer sign of decay in a country than to see the rites of religion held in contempt.’
   – Nikollo Makiavelli, Ancient
 
   Eurasian philosopher
   Prologue
   The Grey Warrior
   His sisters wept when the Legion came for him. At the time, he couldn’t understand why. There was no greater honour than to be chosen, so their sorrow made no sense.
   The grey warrior’s voice was a machine’s rasp, deep and laden with static as he spoke from behind a death mask. He demanded to know the boy’s name.
   Before the mother answered him, she asked a question of her own. It was her way to stand straight and strong, never to be bowed by the things she saw. It was a strength she had passed on to her son, and would stay in his blood despite the many changes to come.
   She asked the question with a smile. ‘I will tell you his name, warrior. But first, will you tell me yours?’
   The grey warrior looked down upon the family, meeting the eyes of the parents only once before he stole their child.
   ‘Erebus,’ he intoned. ‘My name is Erebus.’
   ‘Thank you, Lord Erebus. This is my son,’ she gestured to her boy. ‘Argel Tal.’
   I
   False Angels
   I remember the Day of Judgement.
   Can you imagine looking up and seeing the stars fall from the sky? Can you imagine the heavens themselves raining fire upon the world below?
   You say you can picture it. I don’t believe you. I’m not speaking of war. I’m not speaking of promethium’s stinging oil-scent, or the burning chemical reek of flames born from missile fire. Forget battle’s crude pains and the sensory assault of orbital bombardment. I am not speaking of mundane savagery – the incendiary ills men inflict upon other men.
   I speak of judgement. Divine judgement.
   The wrath of a god who looks upon the works of an entire world, and what he sees turns his heart sour. In his disgust, he sends flights of angels to deliver damnation. In his rage, he seeds the skies with fire and rains destruction upon the upturned faces of six billion worshippers.
   Now tell me again. Tell me again that you can imagine seeing the stars fall from the sky. Tell me you can imagine heaven weeping fire upon the land below, and a city burning so bright that all sight is scorched from your eyes as you watch it die.
   The Day of Judgement stole my eyes, but I can still illuminate you. I remember it all, and why wouldn’t I? It was the last thing I ever saw.
   They came to us in skyborne vultures of blue iron and white fire.
   And they called themselves the XIII Legion. The Warrior-Kings of Ultramar.
   We did not use those names. As they marched us from our homes, as they butchered those who dared to fight back, and as they poured divine annihilation upon everything we had built...
   We called them false angels.
   You came to me asking how my faith survived the Day of Judgement. I will tell you a secret. When the stars fell, when the seas boiled and the earth burned, my faith didn’t die. That is when I began to believe.
   God was real, and he hated us.
   –Excerpted from ‘The Pilgrimage’, by Cyrene Valantion
   ONE
   The Perfect City