Source: Slaves to Darkness

Horus rises.

The Warmaster's blow struck Lorgar in the chest, and lifted him off the ground.

The world blinked. Light flashed out. Shadows fled.

Armour cracked. Blood touched the air in pinprick droplets. Lorgar tumbled back from Horus' hand.

Fulgrim froze. Everything froze. Stillness spread in a blast wave. Lorgar struck the ground. Shattered stone fountained up. Layak watched. The threads of Fulgrim's name were silent in his mind. His mask was cold against his face.

Horus lowered his hand. His face was set, features chiselled by shadow. Kibre stood close behind him, Worldbreaker held in both his hands. Lorgar tried to rise to his knees, mouth opening. Horus half turned and took his mace from Kibre. He turned and swung in a single movement. The blow was slow, unhurried, carrying the contempt of a living god touching a mortal. The mace's power fields were not active, its weight cold. It struck Lorgar in the chest and snapped his head up as he flew back, twisting, blood gasping from between shattered teeth. Horus stood, the mace held casually at his side, his presence towering like a thundercloud, roaring with silence.