"Welcome, my brothers!"
Horus grinned as he embraced each of his brothers. He did not even skip Leman Russ, who reeked faintly of wet wolf. The Primarchs took their seats one by one, though one of them required everyone's special attention.
Leman Russ casually picked up the toothpick holder from the table and shook one into his hand, then began picking his teeth. He spoke to Sanguinius in an offhand tone. "Seeing you without wings is honestly a little strange. I kind of miss those big, white things."
Sanguinius chuckled and let Konrad Curze help him into his seat. "Honestly, losing the wings is a good thing. It means we do not look all that different anymore. I do not want to be a birdman forever."
"When will your legs recover?" Lion El'Jonson asked with a frown.
"I imagine another three to five years. Khorne hit me rather hard back then. The fact that I can still sit here and chat with all of you is already fortunate."
Mortarion said in his muffled voice, "I thought you would say, 'The Emperor protects.'"
"That is all in the past. I believe Father would not want anyone calling him that now, would he?"
Neoth sat at the head of the table and nodded approvingly at Sanguinius.
"Speaking of which, where is Roboute Guilliman? Why has he not arrived yet?" Fulgrim asked as he noticed an empty chair.
Neoth explained Guilliman's lateness. "He said he was making a spreadsheet covering the clear strategies and finer details for the four major raids: Khorne, Slaanesh, Tzeentch, and Nurgle. He hopes it will help newly enlisted warriors quickly adapt to life in the instances and avoid slowing the team down."
Ferrus folded his arms. His gleaming silver Iron Hands were gone, replaced by two sturdy bronze