Over the next few days, Terra welcomed home its "children" scattered across the galaxy.
Flagships of strikingly different designs, each reflecting its Legion's culture, arrived one after another, docking at the immense orbital shipyards or landing directly on designated landing pads at the Imperial Palace.
Every landing was accompanied by solemn Rituals, tight escorts from the Adeptus Custodes, and the omnipresent, silent scrutiny emanating from deep within the Imperial Palace.
Within the Imperial Palace, the residential quarters prepared for the Primarchs gradually grew "livelier."
The conference had yet to formally begin, and the Emperor had summoned no one. A calm before the storm hung over them all.
During this brief, peculiar interlude, Lorgar chose to slack off.
He bundled up every matter concerning the Word Bearers on Terra, including coordination with the palace's various departments, temporary accommodations for the Legion, supply requisitions, and all the other tedious details, then dumped the whole lot on his loyal, capable First Company Captain, Rockefeller, who was already well accustomed to this.
After giving a few brief instructions, he wandered over to the famous, almost miraculous Central Ecological Garden within the Imperial Palace.
It was less a garden than a meticulously regulated ecological ark sheltered beneath an immense dome.
Here, Terra's long-dead natural world had been "resurrected" in another form.
At that moment, Lorgar sat in a corner of the garden on a bench carved from smooth white stone.
His posture was relaxed, one hand draped casually over the backrest while the other propped up his cheek. With an almost bored, vacant expression, he gazed at the "scenery" sitting across from him.
That "scenery" was named Sanguinius.
The Great Angel was undoubtedly one of the most visually striking of all the Primarchs, even in this artificial paradise.
He sat on another bench, his posture