Loken remained motionless.
He didn't even look at the dead man.
His eyes stayed fixed on the golden throne.
Then he slowly turned toward the self-satisfied Ekaddon.
His voice was so calm that it was almost terrifying.
"That wasn't the false Emperor."
His fist tightened at his side.
"Idiot."
"The real false Emperor..."
"Has been sitting right here the entire time."
He raised his bolter and aimed at the apparently empty golden throne.
Ekaddon froze.
The smug smile disappeared from his face.
"What...?"
He followed the direction of Loken's weapon.
There was nothing there.
Just an empty throne.
Nothing else.
But in the next instant...
"Wait..."
Ekaddon's pupils contracted.
Because now he could see it.
Upon the golden throne, in the space that had appeared completely empty just moments ago...
An outline was slowly materializing.
It was a hunched figure, curled into itself as though terrified.
"Just as I thought..."
Loken spoke quietly.
"You've been hiding here all along."
Then something suddenly occurred to him.
His pupils contracted violently.
And a furious shout erupted from his throat.
"IT'S A TRAP!"
But before he could finish...
WHOOOOM!
An invisible psychic shockwave erupted from the throne.
The wave had no visible form.
Yet it carried enough power to tear through steel.
It expanded outward in every direction, centered on the golden throne.
The floor split apart.
The walls trembled.
The enormous glass windows shattered into countless fragments.
Loken, standing closest to the throne, took the full force of the blast.
It struck his chest like an invisible warhammer.
His body was hurled backward like a broken doll, his white power armor groaning under the tremendous pressure.
BOOOOM!
The thirty Justaerin-armored Catulan Reavers were thrown backward as well.
Their massive black-armored bodies flew across the chamber like rag dolls.
Some slammed into the walls with such force that enormous dents appeared in the adamantium.
Others crashed straight through the windows, screaming as they plunged into the empty air beyond the tower.
Ekaddon tumbled uncontrollably through the shockwave.
He desperately tried to stabilize himself.
But the force was overwhelming.
His back struck a pillar.
The entire column snapped in half, burying him beneath an avalanche of shattered stone and dust.
Loken spun through the air.
The entire world seemed to tumble around him.
His vision blurred.
But through sheer instinct and a stroke of luck, he managed to grab the broken edge of a platform railing.
He clung to it with all his strength.
The continuing psychic shockwave pulled at his body, making him flap violently in the air like a banner caught in a hurricane.
His fingers dug into the railing.
He didn't dare loosen his grip for even a second.
Because beneath him...
There was nothing but a drop of more than a hundred meters.
If he let go, he would be hurled out of the tower and smashed into bloody pulp far below.
And the shockwave wasn't stopping.
Energy continued pouring from the throne.
Growing stronger.
More violent.
More destructive.
Loken's body was pulled almost parallel to the floor.
His arms trembled.
Agony tore through his shoulders.
His consciousness began to fade.
He was reaching his limit.
And just as his grip was about to fail...
A brilliant green light suddenly appeared in the center of the chamber.
The light pierced through the shockwave.
Through the raging psychic energy.
Through everything.
There was a flash of green.
And an enormous figure materialized out of thin air.
He stood 3.9 meters tall, clad in a suit of matte-black master-crafted power armor.
The surface of the Serpent's Scales gleamed with a dark, ominous luster.
Silver-gray wolf-head emblems adorned his shoulder guards, their intricate details seeming almost alive.
His face was one that could inspire awe at a single glance.
Beneath thick, commanding eyebrows, a pair of amber eyes shone with the depth and coldness of an ancient abyss.
Horus Lupercal.
Warmaster of the Imperium.
Primarch of the XVI Legion.
Father of the Luna Wolves.
The Imperium of Man's Wolf God.
The invisible psychic shockwave that had sent Astartes flying like toys struck his body.
And failed to move him.
It couldn't even stir the corner of his cloak.
Horus simply stood there.
He didn't retreat.
Didn't brace himself.
Didn't move a single step.
His amber eyes swept across the chamber.
The Terminators scattered across the floor.
The warriors buried beneath rubble.
And finally...
His gaze settled on the golden throne.
On the invisible figure curled up in one corner, desperately unleashing wave after wave of psychic energy.
The corners of Horus's mouth lifted.
It was a smile cold enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.
He raised his right arm.
Mounted on the armor was an enormous bolter.
Its caliber was twice that of an ordinary model.
With almost casual indifference, Horus aimed directly at the center of the throne.
And pulled the trigger.
BANG!
A massive bolt shell streaked through the chamber, trailing brilliant white fire before slamming into the golden throne.
A blinding explosion erupted.
BOOOOM!
The entire tower shook.
A shrill, agonized scream rang out from the throne.
It barely sounded human.
It was more like the unnatural shriek of some creature being burned alive.
And in that very instant...
The invisible psychic shockwave stopped.
Completely.
The tremendous force pulling at Loken suddenly vanished.
Horus calmly walked toward the edge of the damaged platform.
He reached down and hauled Loken back to safety.
Loken gasped for breath, struggling to pull himself upright.
Then his gaze returned to the golden throne.
A figure was slowly becoming visible.
It was a charred corpse.
The skull had been burned black.
The skin was completely carbonized.
The muscles had shriveled and withered, leaving the body looking like a piece of dead wood pulled from a fire.
The skeletal remains of both arms were still tightly gripping the armrests of the golden throne.
Garviel Loken turned toward Horus.
His expression was solemn and respectful.
"My Lord..."
"Sejanus is already..."
Horus placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Sejanus remained loyal to the Imperium until his final moment."
"He fulfilled his duty. There is nothing to regret."
The Warmaster's cold gaze shifted toward the charred skeleton on the throne.
"I will destroy every tyrant and every liar."
His voice carried an unshakable certainty.
"Starting with this fraudulent tyrant."
And so, the false Terra on the fringes of the galaxy was finally conquered by the Luna Wolves.
The false Emperor had fallen by the hand of Warmaster Horus himself.
And in the blink of an eye, time marched onward...
A.N: I've sought advice from an experienced writer and finally figured out the problems that were making the story feel directionless. From here on, I'll be picking up the pace and doing my best to make the story even more exciting! Thank you so much to every reader who's continued supporting the novel and keeping up with the latest chapters!
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