False Gods (Horus Heresy #2)

by Graham McNeill

Common decency and civil behaviour are just a thin veneer over the animal at the core of mankind that gets out whenever it has the chance.’

‘I would kill every eaxector in the Imperium, but I’m sure we would be getting tax bills from hell before breakfast.’

‘It’s for the generations who come after us,’ said Loken. ‘For the Imperium yet to be. You can’t imagine the wealth of information the remembrancers are gathering: libraries worth of achievements chronicled, galleries worth of artistry and countless cities raised for the glory of the Imperium. Thousands of years from now, people will look back at these times and they will know us and understand the nobility of what we set out to do. Ours will be an age of enlightenment that men will weep to know they were not a part of it. All that we have achieved will be celebrated and people will remember the Sons of Horus as the founders of a new age of illumination and progress. Think of that, Ezekyle, the next time you dismiss the remembrancers so quickly.’

‘I saw it, Warmaster, the galaxy as a wasteland, the Emperor dead and mankind in bondage to a nightmarish hell of bureaucracy and superstition. All is grim darkness and all is war.

Eventually, the sword was free, and Loken gingerly lifted the weapon. ‘Careful,’ said Torgaddon. ‘Thanks, Tarik, and here was me about to throw it about.’ ‘Sorry.’

‘When you have come to the edge of all that you know and are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen,’ the Warmaster had told him. ‘And what are they?’ he had asked. ‘That there will be something solid to stand on or you’ll be taught to fly,’ laughed Horus as he jumped.