"I miss Chapter Master Rockefeller..."
When Seras spoke those words, his sincerity was so profound it bordered on tragic.
He sat at the desk that had once belonged to Rockefeller, the mountain of documents before him almost completely blocking his view. Only the top of his helmet and a pair of wearily glowing lenses remained visible.
Ever since he had volunteered to replace Rockefeller as Lorgar's permanent adjutant, he had finally understood why an entire month could pass without anyone catching so much as a glimpse of Rockefeller.
At first, Seras had thought Rockefeller simply liked disappearing, retreating to some secluded corner of the ship to contemplate alone, or indulging some peculiar personal habit.
He had even complained privately to his comrades about Rockefeller's "irresponsibility."
Looking back now, those complaints filled him with shame.
Because now, Seras understood.
Rockefeller had to process literally tens of thousands of documents every day.
That was no exaggeration, no figure of speech. Literally.
They covered everything from the Legion's logistical supply allocations to personnel changes within each company, from weapons maintenance and upgrades to correspondence with the Imperium's other Legions, from the administration of newly conquered worlds to records of spoils distribution.
Every document needed to be reviewed, signed, filed, or answered.
Those concerning major decisions also needed detailed background notes and feasibility analyses attached, giving Lorgar ample information to consult when making his final decision.
Yet Rockefeller could comfortably handle a workload that would have driven any organized body of mortals to a mental breakdown within three days, while still finding time to command the Chapter through its combat assignments. He could even appear at Lorgar's side in his spare time to offer precise strategic advice.
He was like a Cogitator that never stopped. His brain seemed designed from birth to process this