(Written at the very beginning: the time setting is after the end of the main story. If anyone feels they're a little OOC, just take it as the Primarchs being able to reveal their true natures without restraint because they're separated by the internet.)
Magic Apprentice: Has anyone seen Mortarion?
Stop Buying and Selling My Statues!: No. Has he run off to reform those Death Planets again?
Magic Apprentice: Yes. I need his help with something, but when he starts working, he always goes a very long time without checking his Personal Terminal. Even if he's within range of the Glyph Array network, we can't contact him.
Books are the Best Things in the World: You might be able to contact him through magic or Psionic power, Robert.
Magic Apprentice: sent a chibi drawing of an Ultramarine giving a thumbs-up
Magic Apprentice: Thanks, Magnus.
Books are the Best Things in the World: You're welcome. I'm going to rest for a while. I've been studying spells for an entire week, and I'm so tired. Goodbye, everyone.
Magic Apprentice: Goodbye.
Stop Buying and Selling My Statues!: Goodbye, Magnus.
Forge: Goodbye. Be sure to rest, Magnus.
Forge: Also, that drawing you sent is rather interesting, Robert.
Magic Apprentice: It's meant to eliminate the sense of distance between the Astartes and the people of the Imperium—of course, I also admit that I do like this simple drawing, which can replace verbal communication to a certain extent.
Shadow: voice message, a twenty-second-long sigh
Shadow: Here he goes again. He has to tirelessly bring up work matters at every moment. This is our chat group, Robert. A "chat" group. Can you understand that concept?
Magic Apprentice: Am I not chatting?
Combat Bike and Mechanical Steed Repair: You're more like using this opportunity to show off your