Those who scale the pinnacles of glory have the furthest to plunge into the abyss.
https://www.reddit.com/r/40kLore/s/YtZB4XDPiq
I'm gonna paste what someone has said
The Emperor withdrew from the Crusade and was becoming very secretive an distant while instead a bloated and inefficient Imperial beaurocracy sprung up that mismanaged the worlds Horus had brought into compliance, causing rebellions and the Great Crusade to turn in on itself instead of spreading outwards like it always had in the past.
Imperial culture was also turning against the Space Marines and the Court of Terra began trying to chastise Horus. There was growing paranoia within the Legions about what would happen once the Crusade was over since the Emperor had the Thunder Warriors who unified Terra for him massacred once the planet was united.
Horus believed that the Marines who had conquered worlds had the right to then govern them, and wanted Space Marines central to actually running the Imperium and chafed at them being separated and cast adrift from Imperial power structures. Chaos showing him a vision that he would be forgotten/hated in the future by the Imperium also didn't help.
‘One world cannot support and maintain such a gigantic undertaking singlehanded,’ she explained to the Warmaster in slightly over-shrill tones. ‘Terra cannot shoulder this burden alone. We are masters of a thousand worlds now, a thousand thousand. The Imperium must begin to support itself.’
‘Many worlds are barely in compliance, lady,’ Horus said gently. ‘They are recovering from the damage of war, rebuilding, reforming. Taxation is a blight they do not need.’
‘The Emperor has insisted this be so.’
‘Has he?’
‘Malcador the Sigillite, beloved by all, has impressed this upon me and all of my rank. Tribute must be collected, and mechanisms established so that such tribute is routinely and automatically gathered.’
‘The world governors we have put in place will find this too thankless a task,’ Maloghurst said. ‘They are still legitimising their rule and authority. This is premature.’
‘The Emperor has insisted this be so,’ she repeated.
‘That’s the Emperor, beloved by all?’ Loken asked. His comment made Horus smile broadly.
Rathbone sniffed. ‘I’m not sure what you’re implying, captain,’ she said. ‘This is my duty, and this is what I must do.’
When she had retired from the room with her staff, Horus sat back, alone amongst his inner circle.
‘I have often thought,’ he remarked, ‘that it might be the eldar who unseat us. Though fading, they are the most ingenious creatures, and if any could over-master mankind and break our Imperium apart, it would likely be them. At other times, I have fancied that it would be the green-skins. No end of numbers and no end of brute strength, but now, friends, I am certain it will be our own tax collectors who will do us in.’
...
‘I only half joke,’ Horus said. ‘Through the eaxectors, the Council places a burden on the fledgling worlds that is so great it might break us. It is too soon, too comprehensive, too stringent. Worlds will revolt. Uprisings will occur. Tell a conquered man he has a new master, and he’ll shrug. Tell him his new master wants a fifth of his annual income, and he’ll go and find his pitchfork. Aenid Rathbone, and administrators like her, will be the undoing of all we have achieved.’
More laughter echoed round the room.
‘But it is the Emperor’s will,’ Torgaddon remarked.
Horus shook his head. ‘It is not, for all she says. I know him as a son knows his father. He would not agree to this. Not now, not this early. He must be too bound up in his work to know of it. The Council is making decisions in his absence. The Emperor understands how fragile things are. Throne, this is what happens when an empire forged by warriors devolves executive power to civilians and clerics.’
They all looked at him.
‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘This could trigger civil war in certain regions. At the very least, it could undermine the continued work of our expeditions.
...
There were other matters at hand that urgently demanded the Warmaster’s attention, matters that had been postponed for too long while he indulged in the six-month spider-war on Murder. Petitions and salutations were being received on a daily basis. Five primarchs had requested his personal audience on matters of general crusade strategy or for councils of war. One, the Lion, had never made such an approach before, and it was a sign of a welcome thawing in relations, one that Horus could not afford to overlook. Thirty-six expedition fleets had sent signals asking for advice, tactical determination or outright martial assistance. Matters of state also mounted. There was now a vast body of bureaucratic material relayed from the Council of Terra that required the Warmaster’s direct attention. He had been putting it off for too long, blaming the demands of the crusade.
Accompanying the Warmaster on most of his daily duties, Loken began to see plainly what a burden the Emperor had placed on Horus’s broad shoulders. He was expected to be all things: a commander of armies, a mastermind of compliance, a judge, a decider, a tactician, and the most delicate of diplomats.
...
The eaxectors from Terra, led by a high administratrix called Aenid Rathbone, plagued the Warmaster daily for assistance in their dispersal throughout the compliant territories to begin the collection of the Emperor’s Tithe. Everyone with an ounce of common sense knew that such a measure was premature, and Horus had done all he could to stall Rathbone and her eaxectors, but there was only so long they could be kept at bay.
‘If I had my choice,’ Horus had told Loken one evening as they had discussed fresh ways of delaying the taxation of compliant worlds, ‘I would kill every aexector in the Imperium, but I’m sure we would be getting tax bills from hell before breakfast.’
Loken had laughed, but the laughter had died in his throat when he realised that Horus was serious.
...
His journey here had not been as silent and instant as his previous journeys through this strange and unknown realm. The powers that dwelled in the warp had shown him a glimpse of the future, and it was a desolate place indeed. Foul xeno breeds held sway over huge swathes of the galaxy and a pall of hopelessness gripped the sons of man. The power of humanity’s glorious armies was broken, the Legions shattered and reduced to fragments of what they had once been: bureaucrats, scriveners and officialdom ruling in a hellish regime where men lived inglorious lives of no consequence or ambition.
In this dark future, mankind had not the strength to challenge the overlords, to fight against the terrors the Emperor had left them to. His father had become a carrion god who neither felt his subjects’ pain nor cared for their fate. In truth, the solitude of Cthonia was welcome, his thoughts tumbling through his head in a mad whirl of anger and resentment. The Emperor tinkered with powers far beyond his means to master – and had already failed to control once before. He had bargained away his sons for the promise of power, and now returned to Terra to try once again.
‘I will not let this happen,’ Horus said quietly.
Those who scale the pinnacles of glory have the furthest to plunge into the abyss. https://www.reddit.com/r/40kLore/s/YtZB4XDPiq I'm gonna paste what someone has saidThe Emperor withdrew from the Crusade and was becoming very secretive an distant while instead a bloated and inefficient Imperial beaurocracy sprung up that mismanaged the worlds Horus had brought into compliance, causing rebellions and the Great Crusade to turn in on itself instead of spreading outwards like it always had in the past. Imperial culture was also turning against the Space Marines and the Court of Terra began trying to chastise Horus. There was growing paranoia within the Legions about what would happen once the Crusade was over since the Emperor had the Thunder Warriors who unified Terra for him massacred once the planet was united. Horus believed that the Marines who had conquered worlds had the right to then govern them, and wanted Space Marines central to actually running the Imperium and chafed at them being separated and cast adrift from Imperial power structures. Chaos showing him a vision that he would be forgotten/hated in the future by the Imperium also didn't help.‘One world cannot support and maintain such a gigantic undertaking singlehanded,’ she explained to the Warmaster in slightly over-shrill tones. ‘Terra cannot shoulder this burden alone. We are masters of a thousand worlds now, a thousand thousand. The Imperium must begin to support itself.’ ‘Many worlds are barely in compliance, lady,’ Horus said gently. ‘They are recovering from the damage of war, rebuilding, reforming. Taxation is a blight they do not need.’ ‘The Emperor has insisted this be so.’ ‘Has he?’ ‘Malcador the Sigillite, beloved by all, has impressed this upon me and all of my rank. Tribute must be collected, and mechanisms established so that such tribute is routinely and automatically gathered.’ ‘The world governors we have put in place will find this too thankless a task,’ Maloghurst said. ‘They are still legitimising their rule and authority. This is premature.’ ‘The Emperor has insisted this be so,’ she repeated. ‘That’s the Emperor, beloved by all?’ Loken asked. His comment made Horus smile broadly. Rathbone sniffed. ‘I’m not sure what you’re implying, captain,’ she said. ‘This is my duty, and this is what I must do.’ When she had retired from the room with her staff, Horus sat back, alone amongst his inner circle. ‘I have often thought,’ he remarked, ‘that it might be the eldar who unseat us. Though fading, they are the most ingenious creatures, and if any could over-master mankind and break our Imperium apart, it would likely be them. At other times, I have fancied that it would be the green-skins. No end of numbers and no end of brute strength, but now, friends, I am certain it will be our own tax collectors who will do us in.’ ... ‘I only half joke,’ Horus said. ‘Through the eaxectors, the Council places a burden on the fledgling worlds that is so great it might break us. It is too soon, too comprehensive, too stringent. Worlds will revolt. Uprisings will occur. Tell a conquered man he has a new master, and he’ll shrug. Tell him his new master wants a fifth of his annual income, and he’ll go and find his pitchfork. Aenid Rathbone, and administrators like her, will be the undoing of all we have achieved.’ More laughter echoed round the room. ‘But it is the Emperor’s will,’ Torgaddon remarked. Horus shook his head. ‘It is not, for all she says. I know him as a son knows his father. He would not agree to this. Not now, not this early. He must be too bound up in his work to know of it. The Council is making decisions in his absence. The Emperor understands how fragile things are. Throne, this is what happens when an empire forged by warriors devolves executive power to civilians and clerics.’ They all looked at him. ‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘This could trigger civil war in certain regions. At the very least, it could undermine the continued work of our expeditions. ... There were other matters at hand that urgently demanded the Warmaster’s attention, matters that had been postponed for too long while he indulged in the six-month spider-war on Murder. Petitions and salutations were being received on a daily basis. Five primarchs had requested his personal audience on matters of general crusade strategy or for councils of war. One, the Lion, had never made such an approach before, and it was a sign of a welcome thawing in relations, one that Horus could not afford to overlook. Thirty-six expedition fleets had sent signals asking for advice, tactical determination or outright martial assistance. Matters of state also mounted. There was now a vast body of bureaucratic material relayed from the Council of Terra that required the Warmaster’s direct attention. He had been putting it off for too long, blaming the demands of the crusade. Accompanying the Warmaster on most of his daily duties, Loken began to see plainly what a burden the Emperor had placed on Horus’s broad shoulders. He was expected to be all things: a commander of armies, a mastermind of compliance, a judge, a decider, a tactician, and the most delicate of diplomats. ... The eaxectors from Terra, led by a high administratrix called Aenid Rathbone, plagued the Warmaster daily for assistance in their dispersal throughout the compliant territories to begin the collection of the Emperor’s Tithe. Everyone with an ounce of common sense knew that such a measure was premature, and Horus had done all he could to stall Rathbone and her eaxectors, but there was only so long they could be kept at bay. ‘If I had my choice,’ Horus had told Loken one evening as they had discussed fresh ways of delaying the taxation of compliant worlds, ‘I would kill every aexector in the Imperium, but I’m sure we would be getting tax bills from hell before breakfast.’ Loken had laughed, but the laughter had died in his throat when he realised that Horus was serious. ... His journey here had not been as silent and instant as his previous journeys through this strange and unknown realm. The powers that dwelled in the warp had shown him a glimpse of the future, and it was a desolate place indeed. Foul xeno breeds held sway over huge swathes of the galaxy and a pall of hopelessness gripped the sons of man. The power of humanity’s glorious armies was broken, the Legions shattered and reduced to fragments of what they had once been: bureaucrats, scriveners and officialdom ruling in a hellish regime where men lived inglorious lives of no consequence or ambition. In this dark future, mankind had not the strength to challenge the overlords, to fight against the terrors the Emperor had left them to. His father had become a carrion god who neither felt his subjects’ pain nor cared for their fate. In truth, the solitude of Cthonia was welcome, his thoughts tumbling through his head in a mad whirl of anger and resentment. The Emperor tinkered with powers far beyond his means to master – and had already failed to control once before. He had bargained away his sons for the promise of power, and now returned to Terra to try once again. ‘I will not let this happen,’ Horus said quietly
Those who scale the pinnacles of glory have the furthest to plunge into the abyss. https://www.reddit.com/r/40kLore/s/YtZB4XDPiq I'm gonna paste what someone has said The Emperor withdrew from the Crusade and was becoming very secretive an distant while instead a bloated and inefficient Imperial beaurocracy sprung up that mismanaged the worlds Horus had brought into compliance, causing rebellions and the Great Crusade to turn in on itself instead of spreading outwards like it always had in the past. Imperial culture was also turning against the Space Marines and the Court of Terra began trying to chastise Horus. There was growing paranoia within the Legions about what would happen once the Crusade was over since the Emperor had the Thunder Warriors who unified Terra for him massacred once the planet was united. Horus believed that the Marines who had conquered worlds had the right to then govern them, and wanted Space Marines central to actually running the Imperium and chafed at them being separated and cast adrift from Imperial power structures. Chaos showing him a vision that he would be forgotten/hated in the future by the Imperium also didn't help. ‘One world cannot support and maintain such a gigantic undertaking singlehanded,’ she explained to the Warmaster in slightly over-shrill tones. ‘Terra cannot shoulder this burden alone. We are masters of a thousand worlds now, a thousand thousand. The Imperium must begin to support itself.’ ‘Many worlds are barely in compliance, lady,’ Horus said gently. ‘They are recovering from the damage of war, rebuilding, reforming. Taxation is a blight they do not need.’ ‘The Emperor has insisted this be so.’ ‘Has he?’ ‘Malcador the Sigillite, beloved by all, has impressed this upon me and all of my rank. Tribute must be collected, and mechanisms established so that such tribute is routinely and automatically gathered.’ ‘The world governors we have put in place will find this too thankless a task,’ Maloghurst said. ‘They are still legitimising their rule and authority. This is premature.’ ‘The Emperor has insisted this be so,’ she repeated. ‘That’s the Emperor, beloved by all?’ Loken asked. His comment made Horus smile broadly. Rathbone sniffed. ‘I’m not sure what you’re implying, captain,’ she said. ‘This is my duty, and this is what I must do.’ When she had retired from the room with her staff, Horus sat back, alone amongst his inner circle. ‘I have often thought,’ he remarked, ‘that it might be the eldar who unseat us. Though fading, they are the most ingenious creatures, and if any could over-master mankind and break our Imperium apart, it would likely be them. At other times, I have fancied that it would be the green-skins. No end of numbers and no end of brute strength, but now, friends, I am certain it will be our own tax collectors who will do us in.’ ... ‘I only half joke,’ Horus said. ‘Through the eaxectors, the Council places a burden on the fledgling worlds that is so great it might break us. It is too soon, too comprehensive, too stringent. Worlds will revolt. Uprisings will occur. Tell a conquered man he has a new master, and he’ll shrug. Tell him his new master wants a fifth of his annual income, and he’ll go and find his pitchfork. Aenid Rathbone, and administrators like her, will be the undoing of all we have achieved.’ More laughter echoed round the room. ‘But it is the Emperor’s will,’ Torgaddon remarked. Horus shook his head. ‘It is not, for all she says. I know him as a son knows his father. He would not agree to this. Not now, not this early. He must be too bound up in his work to know of it. The Council is making decisions in his absence. The Emperor understands how fragile things are. Throne, this is what happens when an empire forged by warriors devolves executive power to civilians and clerics.’ They all looked at him. ‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘This could trigger civil war in certain regions. At the very least, it could undermine the continued work of our expeditions. ... There were other matters at hand that urgently demanded the Warmaster’s attention, matters that had been postponed for too long while he indulged in the six-month spider-war on Murder. Petitions and salutations were being received on a daily basis. Five primarchs had requested his personal audience on matters of general crusade strategy or for councils of war. One, the Lion, had never made such an approach before, and it was a sign of a welcome thawing in relations, one that Horus could not afford to overlook. Thirty-six expedition fleets had sent signals asking for advice, tactical determination or outright martial assistance. Matters of state also mounted. There was now a vast body of bureaucratic material relayed from the Council of Terra that required the Warmaster’s direct attention. He had been putting it off for too long, blaming the demands of the crusade. Accompanying the Warmaster on most of his daily duties, Loken began to see plainly what a burden the Emperor had placed on Horus’s broad shoulders. He was expected to be all things: a commander of armies, a mastermind of compliance, a judge, a decider, a tactician, and the most delicate of diplomats. ... The eaxectors from Terra, led by a high administratrix called Aenid Rathbone, plagued the Warmaster daily for assistance in their dispersal throughout the compliant territories to begin the collection of the Emperor’s Tithe. Everyone with an ounce of common sense knew that such a measure was premature, and Horus had done all he could to stall Rathbone and her eaxectors, but there was only so long they could be kept at bay. ‘If I had my choice,’ Horus had told Loken one evening as they had discussed fresh ways of delaying the taxation of compliant worlds, ‘I would kill every aexector in the Imperium, but I’m sure we would be getting tax bills from hell before breakfast.’ Loken had laughed, but the laughter had died in his throat when he realised that Horus was serious. ... His journey here had not been as silent and instant as his previous journeys through this strange and unknown realm. The powers that dwelled in the warp had shown him a glimpse of the future, and it was a desolate place indeed. Foul xeno breeds held sway over huge swathes of the galaxy and a pall of hopelessness gripped the sons of man. The power of humanity’s glorious armies was broken, the Legions shattered and reduced to fragments of what they had once been: bureaucrats, scriveners and officialdom ruling in a hellish regime where men lived inglorious lives of no consequence or ambition. In this dark future, mankind had not the strength to challenge the overlords, to fight against the terrors the Emperor had left them to. His father had become a carrion god who neither felt his subjects’ pain nor cared for their fate. In truth, the solitude of Cthonia was welcome, his thoughts tumbling through his head in a mad whirl of anger and resentment. The Emperor tinkered with powers far beyond his means to master – and had already failed to control once before. He had bargained away his sons for the promise of power, and now returned to Terra to try once again. ‘I will not let this happen,’ Horus said quietly.
Those who scale the pinnacles of glory have the furthest to plunge into the abyss. https://www.reddit.com/r/40kLore/s/YtZB4XDPiq I'm gonna paste what someone has saidThe Emperor withdrew from the Crusade and was becoming very secretive an distant while instead a bloated and inefficient Imperial beaurocracy sprung up that mismanaged the worlds Horus had brought into compliance, causing rebellions and the Great Crusade to turn in on itself instead of spreading outwards like it always had in the past. Imperial culture was also turning against the Space Marines and the Court of Terra began trying to chastise Horus. There was growing paranoia within the Legions about what would happen once the Crusade was over since the Emperor had the Thunder Warriors who unified Terra for him massacred once the planet was united. Horus believed that the Marines who had conquered worlds had the right to then govern them, and wanted Space Marines central to actually running the Imperium and chafed at them being separated and cast adrift from Imperial power structures. Chaos showing him a vision that he would be forgotten/hated in the future by the Imperium also didn't help.‘One world cannot support and maintain such a gigantic undertaking singlehanded,’ she explained to the Warmaster in slightly over-shrill tones. ‘Terra cannot shoulder this burden alone. We are masters of a thousand worlds now, a thousand thousand. The Imperium must begin to support itself.’ ‘Many worlds are barely in compliance, lady,’ Horus said gently. ‘They are recovering from the damage of war, rebuilding, reforming. Taxation is a blight they do not need.’ ‘The Emperor has insisted this be so.’ ‘Has he?’ ‘Malcador the Sigillite, beloved by all, has impressed this upon me and all of my rank. Tribute must be collected, and mechanisms established so that such tribute is routinely and automatically gathered.’ ‘The world governors we have put in place will find this too thankless a task,’ Maloghurst said. ‘They are still legitimising their rule and authority. This is premature.’ ‘The Emperor has insisted this be so,’ she repeated. ‘That’s the Emperor, beloved by all?’ Loken asked. His comment made Horus smile broadly. Rathbone sniffed. ‘I’m not sure what you’re implying, captain,’ she said. ‘This is my duty, and this is what I must do.’ When she had retired from the room with her staff, Horus sat back, alone amongst his inner circle. ‘I have often thought,’ he remarked, ‘that it might be the eldar who unseat us. Though fading, they are the most ingenious creatures, and if any could over-master mankind and break our Imperium apart, it would likely be them. At other times, I have fancied that it would be the green-skins. No end of numbers and no end of brute strength, but now, friends, I am certain it will be our own tax collectors who will do us in.’ ... ‘I only half joke,’ Horus said. ‘Through the eaxectors, the Council places a burden on the fledgling worlds that is so great it might break us. It is too soon, too comprehensive, too stringent. Worlds will revolt. Uprisings will occur. Tell a conquered man he has a new master, and he’ll shrug. Tell him his new master wants a fifth of his annual income, and he’ll go and find his pitchfork. Aenid Rathbone, and administrators like her, will be the undoing of all we have achieved.’ More laughter echoed round the room. ‘But it is the Emperor’s will,’ Torgaddon remarked. Horus shook his head. ‘It is not, for all she says. I know him as a son knows his father. He would not agree to this. Not now, not this early. He must be too bound up in his work to know of it. The Council is making decisions in his absence. The Emperor understands how fragile things are. Throne, this is what happens when an empire forged by warriors devolves executive power to civilians and clerics.’ They all looked at him. ‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘This could trigger civil war in certain regions. At the very least, it could undermine the continued work of our expeditions. ... There were other matters at hand that urgently demanded the Warmaster’s attention, matters that had been postponed for too long while he indulged in the six-month spider-war on Murder. Petitions and salutations were being received on a daily basis. Five primarchs had requested his personal audience on matters of general crusade strategy or for councils of war. One, the Lion, had never made such an approach before, and it was a sign of a welcome thawing in relations, one that Horus could not afford to overlook. Thirty-six expedition fleets had sent signals asking for advice, tactical determination or outright martial assistance. Matters of state also mounted. There was now a vast body of bureaucratic material relayed from the Council of Terra that required the Warmaster’s direct attention. He had been putting it off for too long, blaming the demands of the crusade. Accompanying the Warmaster on most of his daily duties, Loken began to see plainly what a burden the Emperor had placed on Horus’s broad shoulders. He was expected to be all things: a commander of armies, a mastermind of compliance, a judge, a decider, a tactician, and the most delicate of diplomats. ... The eaxectors from Terra, led by a high administratrix called Aenid Rathbone, plagued the Warmaster daily for assistance in their dispersal throughout the compliant territories to begin the collection of the Emperor’s Tithe. Everyone with an ounce of common sense knew that such a measure was premature, and Horus had done all he could to stall Rathbone and her eaxectors, but there was only so long they could be kept at bay. ‘If I had my choice,’ Horus had told Loken one evening as they had discussed fresh ways of delaying the taxation of compliant worlds, ‘I would kill every aexector in the Imperium, but I’m sure we would be getting tax bills from hell before breakfast.’ Loken had laughed, but the laughter had died in his throat when he realised that Horus was serious. ... His journey here had not been as silent and instant as his previous journeys through this strange and unknown realm. The powers that dwelled in the warp had shown him a glimpse of the future, and it was a desolate place indeed. Foul xeno breeds held sway over huge swathes of the galaxy and a pall of hopelessness gripped the sons of man. The power of humanity’s glorious armies was broken, the Legions shattered and reduced to fragments of what they had once been: bureaucrats, scriveners and officialdom ruling in a hellish regime where men lived inglorious lives of no consequence or ambition. In this dark future, mankind had not the strength to challenge the overlords, to fight against the terrors the Emperor had left them to. His father had become a carrion god who neither felt his subjects’ pain nor cared for their fate. In truth, the solitude of Cthonia was welcome, his thoughts tumbling through his head in a mad whirl of anger and resentment. The Emperor tinkered with powers far beyond his means to master – and had already failed to control once before. He had bargained away his sons for the promise of power, and now returned to Terra to try once again. ‘I will not let this happen,’ Horus said quietly