Silence reigned in the wake of Lorgar’s words. The primarch turned back to the hololithic table...when several muted clanks sounded behind him.
Lorgar looked over his shoulder, seeking the sounds’ sources. Several Word Bearer captains were shaking hands with their counterparts in the other Legions, with more joining in every moment. They gripped wrist-to-wrist, a traditional warrior gesture to seal a pact.
Argel Tal offered his hand to Sevatar. The Night Lord gripped the Word Bearer’s wrist as their emotionless faceplates met each other’s eyes.
‘Death to the False Emperor,’ said Sevatar, becoming the first living soul to utter the words that would echo through the millennia.
The curse was taken up by other voices, and soon it was being cried in full-throated roars.
Death to the False Emperor. Death to the False Emperor. Death. Death. Death.

You've got to hand it to the Emperor, he really was great at unifying people. By giving them someone they could all merrily despise together.