He'd sustained himself on lies, letting none see how he starved.Īnd he served in his cold-hearted father's empire, enduring the silent sneers of brothers he despised.” He'd led his fleets, he'd embraced his sons, he'd told himself that blood was thicker than water, and that the Eaters of Worlds were the army he wanted and the horde he deserved. He'd played their games, living another man's life. He'd listened to the others that begged him, that needed it all to matter. His destiny was to be with the men and women who needed him, who called for him, who followed him into the mountains, and died without him. He was walking another man's destiny now. He remembered the cold moment of truth as he stood in the dark, his hurting eyes healing, that every day he breathed was an unwanted gift. He remembered the mechanical thunder of absolute betrayal, when he was stolen from the death he'd so richly earned. He remembered refusing to abandon his brothers and sisters, beneath a blue sky at high-sun, far from the city of Desh'ea. “He remembered being blinded by his father's light. Either way, his service was to the Emperor, and his service would be true to the end.” Alone, far away from his comrades and his Legion, dying from cruel wounds on some nameless rock, his passing as memorable as smoke. Then, briefly, he imagined another death. A great battle, upon which human culture would be based. Such an hour would become so ingrained in the minds of men that it would be the cornerstone of all that came after. Loken would battle, and die, and perhaps even Horus would die, to save the Emperor at the last. Primarch Horus would be there, of course. He imagined himself at the Emperor’s side, fighting some great, last stand against an unknown foe. Fabled, imaginary combats flashed through his mind. He tried to picture the manner of his own death. Men would cry out for Abaddon’s return, but he would never come. There would be a time when Abaddon no longer waged bloody war across the territories of humanity. Not even the great First Captain Ezekyle Abaddon would survive forever. “Loken tried to imagine the future, but the image would not form.
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