Before the gathered warriors, the Emperor removed the golden laurels that had been his most iconic accoutrement and bestowed them upon his brightest son. No longer would the Emperor command the armies of the Imperium. That honour now fell to Horus Lupercal: The Warmaster.

It was an old title, revived from dusty antiquity, yet it was a natural fit and perfectly encapsulated the unique qualities of the Luna Wolves Primarch. From the millions of warriors gathered before the steel-sheened dais, adulation had mixed with sorrow, but Ahriman had felt the conflicting waves of powerful emotions as the other primarchs reacted to Horus’ ascension. Perhaps they felt it should have been them, or perhaps they raged at having to take orders from one of their own.

Either way, it made little difference. The decision had been made, and the Emperor was unequivocal in its necessity. Many warriors had expected to renew old acquaintances or swear new bonds of brotherhood on Ullanor, but with the Emperor’s pronouncements made, the garnering of Astartes broke up with almost unseemly haste.

The 28th Expedition had left Ullanor and made the two-month journey to Hexium Minora, a Mechanicum outpost world, to resupply. The bulk of the Thousand Sons had borne witness to the beginnings of the galactic new order, while some had been on detached duties elsewhere in the sector. With each passing day, more of Magnus’ sons joined their parent Legion to await tasking orders from the Crusade’s new master.

Sotekis led a mentor company back from supporting the World Eaters in the Golgothan Deeps, and word came through that the last battle formation to arrive, Kenaphia’s Thunder Bringers, had returned after fighting alongside the IV Legion of Perturabo. There were still elements of the Legion scattered throughout the galaxy, but the majority had found its way to Hexium Minora.

For six months, the Thousand Sons fleet suckled at the planet’s forges and materiel silos like newborns eager for the teat. Billions of rounds of ammunition, thousands of tonnes of food and water, uniforms, dried goods, pioneer supplies, armoured vehicles, power cells, fuel bladders and the myriad items an expeditionary fleet required in order to function were shipped from the surface in bulk lifters or via impossibly slender Tsiolkovsky towers.

With resupply almost complete, the Legion and its millions of supporting soldiers lay at anchor awaiting orders. The months had not been wasted; Army units conducted battle drills alongside the Astartes, both forces learning much of the other’s abilities and limitations.

Each Captain of Fellowship divided his time between battle training and exercises of mental discipline to refresh his powers and his connection to the aether, but the Legion was eager to be in the thick of things again. Nor were the remembrancers idle. Most spent their time honing prose for post-Crusade publication, all the while hoping to learn more of the glorious Triumph on Ullanor.

Others rendered sketches taken over the course of the conquest of Heliosa or during its transitional period en route to compliance, while the lucky few chosen as Neophytes by the Thousand Sons continued their training.

“It’s beautiful, is it not?” asked Magnus as Ahriman joined him.

“It is, my lord,” agreed Ahriman.

“I can see so much when I look out from this sanctum, Ahzek, but there is so much more that can be learned. I know much, it is true, but I will know everything one day.”

Magnus smiled and shook his head, as though amused at his own conceit.

“No need to hide your frown, my friend,” he said. “I am not so arrogant as to have forgotten my studies of the plays of Aristophanes and the dialogues of Plato. ‘To know, is to know that you know nothing. That is the meaning of true knowledge.’”

“I do not look so deeply into the heavens, my lord,” said Ahriman, “But looking at the stars always gives me a sense of peace, knowing that there is an order to the galaxy. It gives me stability in times of change.”

“You say that as though change is to be feared,” said Magnus, at last looking down at him.

“Change is sometimes necessary,” said Ahriman with a disarming smile, “but I prefer order. It is more… predictable.”

Magnus chuckled. “Yes, I can see how that would be pleasant, Ahzek, but the perfect, ordered world is dead and stagnant. The real world is alive becauseit is full of change, disorder and decay. The old order must pass away so the new one may arise.”

“Is that what happened on Ullanor?” ventured Ahriman.

“In a manner of speaking. No order, not even a god-given one, will last forever. After all, the grand principle of creation is that nothing and possibility come in and out of bond infinite times in a finite moment.”

Ahriman kept silent, unsure as to the primarch’s exact meaning.

Magnus folded his arms and sighed and said, “We are alone in the stars, Ahzek.”

“My lord?”

“The Emperor leaving the Crusade,” said Magnus. “I heard him speak to Horus upon the reviewing stand. My brother desired to know why our father was leaving us, and do you know what he said?”

“No, my lord,” said Ahriman, though he understood the question was rhetorical.

“He said that it was not because he wearied of the fighting, but because a greater destiny called him, one he claimed would ensure the legacy of our conquests will live on until the ending of the stars. Of course Horus wanted to know what that was, but our father did not tell him, which I saw cut him deeply. You see, Horus was the first of us to be reunited with our father after our… scattering. He fought at his side for nearly thirty years, father and only son. Such a bond is unique and not easily relinquished. Truth be told, it is a bond many of my brothers look upon with no small amount of jealousy.”

“But not you?”

“Me? No, I never lost contact with my father. We spoke many times before he ever set foot on Prospero. That is a bond that none of my brothers can claim. As our Legion departed Ullanor, I communed with my father and told him what I found on Aghoru, a hidden labyrinth of tunnels that pierce the immaterium and link all places and all times.”

Magnus returned his eye to the stars, and Ahriman kept silent, sensing that to intrude on Magnus’ introspection would be unwise, though the ramifications of his discoveries on Aghoru were staggering.

“Do you know what he said, Ahzek? Do you know how he greeted this momentous discovery, this key to every corner of the galaxy?”

“No, my lord.”

“He knew,” said Magnus simply. “He already knew of it. I should not have been surprised, I suppose. If any being in the galaxy could know such a thing, it would be my father. Now that he knew I had also discovered this lattice, he told me he had discovered it decades ago and had resolved to become its master. This is why he returns to Terra.”

“That is great news, surely?”

“Absolutely,” said Magnus without enthusiasm. “I immediately volunteered my services, of course, but my offer of assistance was declined.”

“Declined? Why?”

Magnus’ shoulders dropped a fraction as he said, “Apparently my father’s researches are at too delicate a stage to allow another soul to look upon them.”

“That surprises me,” said Ahriman. “After all, there is no greater student of the esoteric than Magnus the Red. Did the Emperor say why he declined your help?”

“He not only declines my assistance, he warns me to delve no further into my studies. He assures me that he has a vital role for me in the final realisation of his grand designs, but he would tell me no more.”

“Did you ask what Leman Russ had told him?”

Magnus shook his head.

“No,” he said. “My father knows my lupine brother’s ways well enough; he does not to need me to point out how ridiculous and hypocritical they are.”

“Still,” said Ahriman, “it is a shame to have lost the opportunity to learn more of the Wolves. Ohthere Wyrdmake and I formed a close bond. With Uthizzar’s help, I would have learned much of the inner workings of the Wolf King’s Legion.”