Lorgar stood in the center of the Law of Faith's Bridge, gazing through the enormous observation window at the stars beyond, warped by the warp storm into something resembling an oil painting.
His hands were clasped behind his back, his posture straight and rigid, like a statue carved from granite. He had been standing before the window for a very, very long time.
Though his gaze rested on the view outside, his eyes seemed to pierce that chaotic void, focusing on somewhere far more distant.
On Prospero, the place he was racing toward yet seemingly could never reach.
There was nothing he could do but wait.
That feeling filled him with agitation and helplessness that sank into his very bones.
He was a Primarch, the lord of the Word Bearers.
Yet now, all he could do was stand there, watching the stars slowly drift past the window, waiting for the Fleet to cross that damned warp storm, waiting for time to pass, waiting for fate to deliver its verdict.
"How much longer?"
His voice rang out across the Bridge, filled with urgency and anxiety he could not suppress.
This was the fifth time he had asked that question today. Perhaps more. He could no longer remember.
Nibelung stood beside Lorgar and answered calmly, "This is the fifth time you've asked in this hour, Lorgar. The Fleet is traveling at maximum speed, but the warp storm's effects have exceeded our expectations. At our current rate, we still need approximately twenty-three days to reach Prospero."
Lorgar's brow furrowed even more deeply.
He took a deep breath, forcing down the agitation churning in his chest, then turned to Nibelung and changed the subject. "How are things on Anna's end?"
"Lady Anna has followed your orders and returned with Commander Rockefeller to defend Millennium