70. The Lonely One

927.M32

Terra

Mortarion was coming?

Beneath a verdant laurel crown, with flecks of white hair pressed beneath it, Guilliman looked up in surprise from the command slate he was using to review documents.

Angron sat down casually.

Dappled shadows fell through the trees, spilling across his light armor. When the weather was pleasant, Guilliman chose to work in a pavilion within the Imperial Palace gardens.

Yes, it was him. No mistake about it.

Angron said, his golden eyes turning toward the treetops, "How long has it been since that stubborn bastard contacted us?"

"Five hundred and ninety-nine years," Guilliman said, lowering his head to continue reviewing documents. "The Travius System has requested a tax reduction. Approved."

"The last time was because of the Son of Dorn's request." Angron grinned. "If I hadn't rushed over to stop him, he probably wouldn't have wanted to see us."

Guilliman's hand paused over the documents.

"Perhaps... he still hasn't adjusted to our gaze?"

Silence fell, broken only by the melodious birdsong in the garden.

Angron clapped his hands and sighed.

"I've tried to persuade him countless times, but he still refuses to believe that we don't care about those things... He's too stubborn."

Guilliman smiled wearily.

Footsteps sounded at just the right moment, and the afternoon sunlight seemed to brighten with them.

"I guessed you two would be here." A lighthearted voice rang out as Sanguinius, clad in white robes with white wings, approached.

Angron patted the seat beside him carelessly, gesturing for the Archangel to sit.

But Sanguinius merely leaned against one of the pavilion's white pillars, swirling the wine in his hand.

"Good afternoon, everyone."

"Good afternoon," Guilliman said. "Finished with your work? Our brother intends to visit Terra."

"At a time like this?"

Sanguinius raised an eyebrow, the warm smile still