"Uh..."
An exceedingly faint, almost imperceptible gasp, distinctly startled and unprepared, escaped Lorgar's throat.
After Horus's formal invitation, laden with glory, duty, and brotherhood, and the weighty title of "Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force" had suddenly landed on him, Lorgar froze. A rare moment of blankness and paralysis crossed his bronze face, ordinarily as placid as a deep pool.
His golden eyes widened slightly, clearly reflecting Horus's enthusiastic, expectant figure on the dais, along with the heavy shackles of authority that he seemed to be extending from his hand.
The proposal had caught him completely off guard.
Deputy Commander-in-Chief? At Horus's side? Taking part in decisions at the highest level? This was entirely different from his original plan to "continue the Great Crusade" while remaining relatively independent.
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind: the vortex of power, more direct involvement, closer proximity to Horus's future descent into darkness, the possible reactions of his other brothers, the deeper intentions behind the Emperor's silent assent...
Time seemed to stretch by several seconds.
He could feel the heat of every gaze in the room converging on him, could hear the steady yet slightly quickened beating of his heart within his chest.
Perturabo stood beside him, casting him an inscrutable, thoughtful look.
In the distance, Sanguinius stopped eating his fruit and tilted his head slightly to listen.
Even Leman Russ, who appeared to have passed out drunk, seemed to snore a little more softly for an instant.
At last, slowly, as though every word had to break free of some invisible resistance, Lorgar met Horus's ardent, sincere gaze that brooked no refusal and forced himself to speak, keeping his voice as level as he could:
"If... this truly is the Emperor's will and arrangement," he first shifted the source of the decision back