Loken had risen to his feet.

'Sit, Garviel.’ Horas said softly. 'Sit down. Make no ceremony to me.’

Loken slowly sat back down and the Warmaster knelt beside him. He was so immensely made that kneeling, his head was on a level with Loken's. He plucked off his black leather gloves and placed his bare left hand on Loken's shoulder.

'I want you to let go of your troubles, my son.’ he said.

'I try, sir, but they will not leave me alone.’

Horns nodded. 'I understand.’

'I have made a failure of this undertaking, sir.’ Loken said. 'Ezekyle says we will put a brave face on it for appearance sake, but even if these events remain secret, I will bear the shame of failing you.’

'And how did you do that?'

'Men died. A brother turned upon his own. Such a manifest sin. Such a crime. You charged me to take this seat of resistance, and I have made such a mess of it that you have been forced to come here in person to-'

'Hush.’ Horus whispered. He reached out and unfixed Loken's tattered oath of moment from his shoulder plate.

'Do you, Garviel Loken, accept your role in this?' The Warmaster read out. 'Do you promise to lead your men into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory, no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe? Do you swear to crush the insurgents of Sixty-Three Nineteen, despite all they might throw at you? Do you pledge to do honour to the XVI Legion and the Emperor?'

'Fine words.’ Loken said.

'They are indeed. I wrote them. Well, did you, Garviel?'

'Did I what, sir?'

'Did you crush the insurgents of Sixty-Three Nineteen, despite all they threw at you?'

'Well, yes-'

'And did you lead your men into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory, no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe?'

'Yes...'

Then I can't see how you've failed in any way, my son. Consider that last phrase particularly. "No matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe". When poor Jubal turned, did you give up? Did you flee? Did you cast

away your courage? Or did you fight against his insanity and his crime, despite your wonder at it?'

'I fought, sir.’ Loken said.

Throne of Earth, yes, you did. Yes, you did, Loken! You fought. Cast shame out. I will not have it. You served me well today, my son, and I am only sorry that the extent of your service cannot be more widely proclaimed.’

Loken started to reply, but fell silent instead. Horus rose to his feet and began to pace about the room. He found a bottle of wine amongst the clutter on a wall dresser and poured himself a glass.

'I spoke to Kyril Sindermann.’ he said, and took a sip of the wine. He nodded to himself before continuing, as if surprised at its quality. 'Poor Kyril. Such a terrible thing to endure. He's even speaking of spirits, you know? Sindermann, the arch prophet of secular truth, speaking of spirits. I put him right, naturally. He mentioned spirits were a concern of yours too.’

'Kyril convinced me it was a plague, at first, but I saw a spirit... a daemon... take hold of Xavyer Jubal and remake his flesh into the form of a monster. I saw a daemon take hold of Jubal's soul and turn him against his own kind.’

'No, you didn't.’ Horus said.

'Sir?'

Horus smiled. 'Allow me to illuminate you. I'll tell you what you saw, Garviel. It is a secret thing, known to a very few, though the Emperor, beloved of all, knows more than any of us. A secret, Garviel, more than any other secret we are keeping today. Can you keep it? I'll share it, for it will soothe your mind, but I need you to keep it solemnly.’

'I will.’ Loken said.

The Warmaster took another sip. 'It was the warp, Garviel.’

The... warp?'

'Of course it was. We know the power of the warp and the chaos it contains. We've seen it change men. We've seen the wretched things that infest its dark dimensions. I know you have. On Erridas. On Syrinx. On the bloody coast of Tassilon. There are entities in the warp that we might easily mistake for daemons.’

'Sir, I...' Loken began. 'I have been trained in the study of the warp. I am well-prepared to face its horrors. I have fought the foul things that pour forth from the gates of the Empyrean, and yes, the warp can seep into a man and transmute him. I have seen this happen, but only in psykers. It is the risk they take. Not in Astartes.'

'Do you understand the full mechanism of the warp, Garviel?' Horns asked. He raised the glass to the nearest light to examine the colour of the wine.

'No, sir. I don't pretend to.'

'Neither do I, my son. Neither does the Emperor, beloved by all. Not entirely. It pains me to admit that, but it is the truth, and we deal in truths above all else. The warp is a vital tool to us, a means of communication and transport. Without it, there would be no Imperium of Man, for there would be no quick bridges between the stars. We use it, and we harness it, but we have no absolute control over it. It is a wild thing that tolerates our presence, but brooks no mastery. There is power in the warp, fundamental power, not good, nor evil, but elemental and anathema to us. It is a tool we use at our own risk.’

The Warmaster finished his glass and set it down. 'Spirits. Daemons. Those words imply a greater power, a fiendish intellect and a purpose. An evil archetype with cosmic schemes and stratagems. They imply a god, or gods, at work behind the scenes. They imply the very supernatural state that we have taken great pains,

through the light of science, to shake off. They imply sorcery and a palpable evil.’

He looked across at Loken. 'Spirits. Daemons. The supernatural. Sorcery. These are words we have allowed to fall out of use, for we dislike the connotations, but they are just words. What you saw today... call it a spirit. Call it a daemon. The words serve well enough. Using them does not deny the clinical truth of the universe as man understands it. There can be daemons in a secular cosmos, Garviel. lust so long as we understand the use of the word.’

'Meaning the warp?'

'Meaning the warp. Why coin new terms for its horrors when we have a bounty of old words that might suit us just as well? We use the words "alien" and "xenos" to describe the inhuman filth we encounter in some locales. The creatures of the warp are just "aliens" too, but they are not life forms as we understand the term. They are not organic. They are extra-dimensional, and they influence our reality in ways that seem sorcer-ous to us. Supernatural, if you will. So let's use all those lost words for them... daemons, spirits, possessors, changelings. All we need to remember is that there are no gods out there, in the darkness, no great daemons and ministers of evil. There is no fundamental, immutable evil in the cosmos. It is too large and sterile for such melodrama. There are simply inhuman things that oppose us, things we were created to battle and destroy. Orks. Gykon. Tushepta. Keylekid. Eldar. Jokaero... and the creatures of the warp, which are stranger than all for they exhibit powers that are bizarre to us because of the otherness of their nature.’

Loken rose to his feet. He looked around the lamp-lit room and heard the moaning of the mountain wind outside. 'I have seen psykers taken by the warp, sir.’ he said. 'I have seen them change and bloat in corruption,

but I have never seen a sound man taken. I have never seen an Astartes so abused.’

'It happens,' Horus replied. He grinned. 'Does that shock you? I'm sorry. We keep it quiet. The warp can get into anything, if it so pleases. Today was a particular triumph for its ways. These mountains are not haunted, as the myths report, but the warp is close to the surface here. That fact alone has given rise to the myths. Men have always found techniques to control the warp, and the folk here have done precisely that. They let the warp loose upon you today, and brave Jubal paid the price.'