Of all the conflicts that have beset this Imperium of Mankind, it is the rebellion of the Warmaster Horus, the Horus Heresy, which has left the greatest scars upon its fabric. Even now, centuries after its end, when few save ancient and shrivelled creatures such as myself remember the horror of those dark years, men speak of it with awe. For those were the last days of legend, when the Emperor and His sons, the mighty Primarchs, strode forth to war, when the dominion of Mankind spread across the galaxy and none could challenge our might, the last days of a golden age long since consigned to dust by the actions of one man. It is the curse of history that few care to remember other than those fragments that exalt them, to relive those glory days endlessly while the present crumbles about them.