Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 763 Interlude 1: Lupecal in the Dark Room
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He hadn't had such a good night's sleep in a long time, but he also hadn't had this dream in a long time.

In Ksunia, he did not dare to fully immerse himself in the environment of sleep.

The young, reckless killers in the same tribe, who had just come of age, were always trying to find an excuse to kill him in order to increase their murder count.

His short dreams were always filled with fear, and he could only get short sleep by the side of his adoptive father, who both loathed and feared him yet still raised him.

Even after being found in Terra, though he had become strong and noble, he still hadn't completely forgotten his habit of being alert to sleep.

This might be an instinct learned by an infant who witnesses violence and murder the first time they open their eyes, from the death of their first foster father; but you could also say it's the ever-present vigilance of a true warrior against danger.

You see, the same thing can be described from different angles and give you completely different feelings.

As the emperor's most beloved son and the one on whom the emperor placed his hopes, Horus would be the latter, and could only be the latter.

The "Nameless One" in Krzunia, who felt fear, injustice, and the desire to earn his name through his first kill, died on the day he killed his adoptive father.

Horus was the one who returned to Terra alive and was raised by the Emperor.

But then he heard it again.

I heard it again.

The rapid heartbeat of an infant pressed against an adult's chest, the sound of blood filling lungs, the sigh-like tone of a dying person, and then, the heavy fall of a human body, the pair of blue eyes, pale skin, freckles flashing before his eyes...

Loken?

How could it be Loken's face?!
Horus Lupecal, panting heavily, jumped up from his simple bed—

A strange feeling immediately made his whole body tense up—

No, no, that's not right—

Even the familiar tautness of his tendons felt surreal and distant, as if his soul had left his body—No! That's not right! This isn't just a feeling!! He raised his hand in horror, looking at his palm. It was, as always, the hand of a warrior, the hand of an adult Primarch, but…

—It now shines with a translucent radiance, and is by no means made of flesh and blood.

Where is he?!
What happened?

Where are the others?!
After the initial panic subsided, Horus immediately began to analyze his situation.

There was nothing there, so he checked himself over again.

He was wearing the casual clothes he wore to bed, barefoot, without armor or weapons, and the fact that he was unarmed made him feel as if he were naked.

He took off his shirt and piled it into a small mound as a marker to return. He tried walking around for sixty heartbeats' distance, but still couldn't see anything or see any end, so he had to turn back first.

However, to be precise, it shouldn't be said that there was nothing there; there was light that allowed him to see the empty ground.

But the light seemed to be born out of thin air, and whenever his eyes tried to capture the point of emission of the light source, it would disappear from his perception.

"Terra by heaven, where am I?"

After thirty minutes of fruitless exploration or attempts to guess whether waking himself up would allow him to leave the place, Horus couldn't help but ask this question.

It was as if they had been eagerly awaiting this question for a long time. A sound, like something passing by, came from the chaotic grayness.

Then something suddenly pounced on Horus's face, and he alertly grabbed it as it struggled.

"……Pigeon?"

(End of this chapter)