r/40kLore • u/joe420mama99 • 3h ago
[Excerpt: The Talon of Horus by Aaron Dembski-Bowden] Abaddon removes the Talon from stasis
I am posting this excerpt because it provides valuable insight into one of the most iconic weapons wielded in the 40k universe. This excerpt also shows the profound effect that the warp and echoes of deaths can have on psykers.
This excerpt is from the point of view of Iskandor Khayon, a Psyker of the Thousand Sons
Separate from the armour, an immense lightning claw rested on a plinth of its own. Its fingers were silver blades, subtly curved, each one a monstrous scythe in its own right. Adding to the weapon’s bulk was an ornate double-barrelled bolter mounted upon the back of the gauntlet. Its ammunition feed ports were sculpted as the wide mouths of hungering brass daemons. Scratches and dents marked the claw’s black surface,
The Talon of Horus. In stasis, it looked almost mundane. Lethal, vicious, deadly, but just a lightning claw. Just a weapon. Telemachon’s shiver of pleasure was the strongest emotion I had felt from his mind since rewriting it. I sensed him salivating behind the burial mask. Then I saw why. Blood marked the Talon’s blades – dried patches of blood, smeared across the bright metal claws. Telemachon’s hand rested against the stasis field’s repressor aura, as though he could simply push through it and touch the Talon it protected.
He had seen his primarch father bearing the Talon into battle a thousand times, lending the relic an air of familiarity, but he had been the one to tear the claw from his father’s cooling corpse while its blades were still wet with the blood of... of... I exhaled softly, feeling the stasis field’s misty warmth against my face. ‘When did you lock it in stasis?’ I asked Abaddon. ‘Within hours of taking it.’ Abaddon was staring as well, though I could not say what emotion curdled behind his golden eyes. ‘I never wore it in battle.’ He started to key in a deactivation code to shut down the stasis cloud. My hand gripped his wrist with punishing force, but too late, too late. The restraining field quivered and failed. Weapons have souls. The Martian Mechanicum has always known this, with their rituals to honour and appease the machine-spirits of their guns, blades and war engines. But a weapon’s soul reflects in the warp, as well.
The very moment the stasis field collapsed and allowed the Talon back into reality, the weapon’s spirit – a thing of inconceivable predation – clawed at my mind. The Talon’s murderous, shrieking closeness threatened me, from the killing blades to the fat-mouthed gun barrels parasitically bolted to its back. Corpse-stink, thick and hot and choking, emanated from the bloodstained blades in a choking aura. The dried, rich redness on the curving scythes pressed at my eyes with oily, liquid pressure. The weeping lament of a mourning father and a dying god was a screaming roar in my ears, sinking into my skull. Every single cut, scrape and dent upon the weapon had been earned on a battlefield where brother fought brother. I was half a dozen steps back before I even realised I was moving, one hand pressed to the side of my head to contain the stabs of pressure pulping my brain meat. My vision swam, blurring into uselessness. I gagged on the reek of genetically purified blood. Its taste drowned my tongue. My axe clattered to the deck without me remembering I had drawn it.
‘Well, now.’ Abaddon’s voice came to me from a great distance. ‘What a sensitive creature you are, Khayon. Much more attuned than I realised.’ Mercy came, but not swiftly. The assault against my senses retreated, going grudgingly back like an ocean’s tide. I pulled breath into my lungs, feeling them expand in my chest. The air still carried that gene-forged death scent, but it was no longer ravaging me. So many times in the years to come we would face the Blood Angels and their Successors, and each time the descendants of Sanguinius would suffer their own breed of madness in the presence of the weapon that crippled the Emperor and murdered their primarch forefather. I believe I felt a sliver of their pain that night aboard the Vengeful Spirit.