"My lord, this..."
After what felt like centuries of silence, Kelbor-Hal's vocal unit finally forced out a few syllables, haltingly and with difficulty.
His logic and emotions were caught in a violent storm unlike anything he had ever experienced.
He wanted to argue, to use the Adeptus Mechanicus's rigorous, intricately nested logic and doctrines to refute Lorgar's brutally naked analysis, which cut straight to the heart of the matter.
But...
What he had said... was indeed... true.
Every possibility, every outcome, had been dismantled in Lorgar's simplest, coldest terms and laid out "before" him.
Mentor Utio's possible schemes, the calculations of risk and reward among Mars's leadership, and the starkly different yet equally bleak futures awaiting the three of them whether their mission succeeded or failed.
It was not as though he had never modeled these scenarios. But never before had a Primarch, backed by absolute power, cruelly exposed them in a tone bordering on "sympathy."
He felt the circulation of coolant inside his heavily modified body falter for an instant.
Data streams flickered frantically along the edges of his visual interface: overload warnings generated when his core logic encountered complex variables that its established protocols could not handle.
"Don't rush, Kelbor."
Lorgar spoke again, steady and gentle, with even a hint of understanding reassurance—a stark contrast to the devastating questions he had just asked.
Rather than remain where he stood and keep applying pressure, he began walking, slowly and steadily, until he stood beside Kelbor.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, but Lorgar's towering figure still cast an invisible shadow over Kelbor.
Lorgar turned slightly, then bent his towering frame down. The movement was natural, yet laden with pressure.
He brought his lips close to Kelbor's ear, covered in metal and sensors, and lowered his voice to a deep, resonant