One Solar week later.
A transport broke away from the Ultramar fleet and headed for Terra. With only one jump remaining before it reached the Solar System, the Ultramar fleet departed for the front, and the High Lords of Terra were assembled once more.
Though they had also gathered under the Regent's orders, they did not meet in their respective Imperial offices. Instead, they convened in the High Lords' chamber for face-to-face discussion.
Under the Regent's compulsory orders, everything proceeded with extreme speed.
By the time Guilliman disembarked from the transport and headed straight for the High Lords of Terra, every High Lord was already waiting for him.
Under everyone's gaze, the Imperial Regent crossed the golden carpet and took his seat upon the throne at the highest point.
A magnificent statue of the Emperor stood behind the Regent's seat. The sword gripped in its hands radiated golden light that shrouded the Regent, lending the Primarch an air of sanctity.
Guilliman said nothing after sitting down, yet the High Lords had already begun exchanging glances, and the atmosphere throughout the chamber grew far graver.
All five High Lords who had met with Imotekh were present, rather than the artificial humans Imotekh had used to impersonate them. They sat in a row, each wearing a dark expression.
"The moment I boarded the transport for Terra, I heard something from my brother."
Guilliman spoke.
The Primarch's resonant voice echoed through the entire chamber.
"Our enemy did not choose to launch a counteroffensive in the Orphus Sector. They struck the Aerthos Sector instead."
"Because of interference from certain people among you, the transport fleet's supplies were concentrated in the Orphus Sector. Now, some battlefields in the Aerthos Sector are suffering from insufficient supplies."
Upon hearing this, the naval representative rose to defend himself.