After the meeting ended, Lorgar handed the expeditionary fleet's affairs over to Rockefeller, then returned to his room to meditate—or rather, lie around.
Nothing much was happening in the Legion lately anyway. After fighting for so long, couldn't he enjoy himself a little?
Rockefeller didn't mind. He had long since grown accustomed to the Legion leadership's "Primarch offline" system. Aside from major events that required the Primarch's approval, everything else was settled through discussions among the Chapter Masters.
Just then, Chaplain Mathieu entered the Primarch's office, hoping to ask Lorgar about a few things, only to find him idly slacking off.
Lorgar was leaning against the sofa, staring into space out of boredom, when his eyes met Mathieu's as the Chaplain walked in.
Lorgar: ...
Mathieu: ...
"Wasn't my door locked?" Lorgar asked, looking at the shocked Mathieu.
But in Mathieu's eyes, Lorgar, who appeared to be slacking off, was actually deep in thought—pondering the Legion's future and the Imperium's plight.
Ah, truly worthy of our great Primarch! Even in the dead of night, he couldn't stop worrying about this great Imperium. As his subordinate, how could I bear to disturb such a great being?
At that thought, guilt welled up in Mathieu's heart.
Then Mathieu said solemnly, "Father, please forgive my impertinence, but restoring the Imperium cannot be accomplished overnight. You have already worked for thousands of hours. You should rest."
Lorgar: ?
Huh? Wasn't I already resting?
Before Lorgar could speak, Mathieu withdrew from the room, then turned to the two loyal Word Bearers Legion warriors standing guard outside in Terminator Armour. "Father needs rest. Do not disturb him for the time being."
Deep within the warship, the air in an unusually spacious communal training room smelled of grinding metal and machine oil.
The specially reinforced walls