Precisely so, [ he purrs, pleased, and the breath that trails that answer is nothing so much as a sigh of fond nostalgia. ] And not just us. We were led by the Warmaster himself: Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the XVIth Legion, and favored son of the Emperor of Mankind himself.

[ Of course, the Warmaster led them to failure and nothing more—but for the purposes of this story, that's beside the point. The irony is pleasing nonetheless: that the Emperor's favorite son would lead his Legion against his father, and bring the aptly named Emperor's Children with him. ]

A full half of the Emperor's Legions broke their leash and mustered against him alongside us. But, of course, not all of our brothers were so eager for freedom. [ Like a ripple in a pond's reflection, his smile distorts on his lips. Again, his gaze turns distant and dim. ] Too many of them were unable to see beyond the devotion we had been brainwashed to feel, as part of out elevation to the ranks of the Astartes.

The Emperor's Children unable to break the shackles of our hypno-indoctrination would never follow our father in glorious rebellion. And so, Fulgrim purged the blind from our ranks. [ Lucius brightens again, as if he's reached another funny joke. ] Would you have guessed that he once counted me among them?