(Written first: The time is set after the end of the main story, after the Mage's revival. If it feels a little OOC, just take it as the Primarchs being able to show their true colors without restraint because they're separated by the internet.)
Today's Personal Terminal was a little quiet, and Dorn felt that this was simply abnormal.
In the past, he would see Leman Russ tirelessly looking for people to chat with everywhere on the Personal Terminal, the Fenrisian acting as if he were a technological idiot while frantically sending voice messages or enormous emojis through the Personal Terminal.
Everyone tried to persuade him to stop, but he simply would not, and even got worse. He would suddenly call you with a voice chat in the middle of the night; if you did not answer, he would just keep calling.
Because the terminal could not block Primarch-level communications, you could only watch helplessly as Leman Russ harassed you without end until you picked up.
No one knew why the Mage had added these functions, and no one knew why he had added a group function. Someone had asked, but he had only smiled without saying a word.
Yes, you did not know before, but you knew now—the honored Primarchs had a group chat, used to chat with one another.
Rogal Dorn thought it over again and again, then decided he should still pick up the terminal and see exactly what had happened. The screen lit up. He slid his finger, entered a group, and the first thing that came into view was a sentence from Roboute Guilliman.
Magic Apprentice: Is anyone interested in coming to play a couple rounds of simulated battle tonight? I've been too tired lately. I need to relax.
Shadow: I can come, but you