After ending the transmission, the Emperor stood beside Malcador in silence for a moment.
His gaze rested on the now-dark screen of the Communications Terminal, as though he were staring at some distant presence, turning their brief conversation over in his mind.
Then he slowly sighed. The sound echoed through the vast, empty hall, heavy and desolate as ancient mountains whispering in the wind.
"As always, my lord." Malcador stood beside the Emperor, his voice calm and gentle, with the composure of someone stating a long-familiar fact.
His aged, wrinkled face shone softly in the light falling from the high windows. His hands were folded before him, his posture respectful yet relaxed.
"Lorgar is always like this. He contacts you in a hurry, says a great many things to worry you, then hangs up just as hastily, leaving you with a pile of matters to handle. Exactly as always."
"Lorgar... if only he could always remain this way..." The Emperor's voice carried a complicated mixture of affection and resignation.
He shook his head, an almost imperceptible smile appearing at the corners of his mouth, indulgent and forgiving, as though he were dealing with a mischievous child.
"Do as he said. Send those five Ground-Based Wave Cannons into the Webway to strengthen its defenses. Transfer the Sisters of Silence there as well, and have them garrison its key junctions. That will be all."
He paused, then turned to Malcador, a trace of barely discernible concern in his voice. "What about Magnus? Lorgar said he was going to Prospero to see him—what do you think Magnus might do?"
Malcador fell silent for a moment before speaking slowly, with the caution of someone analyzing a complex problem. "Magnus's recent behavior has indeed been somewhat unusual. He has increased the frequency of his contact