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Lox had never seen Guilliman look so fragile and shattered.

In his memory, the Lord of Macragge had always been composed and unruffled, calm and calculating in every respect.

Guilliman was the perfect ruler. He could firmly restrain his emotions with reason, relying on his computational ability to make the most rational judgments based on objective circumstances.

Many who spent time with him could not help but marvel that this primarch was practically a supercomputer that happened to look human.

But now, Guilliman held Lox tightly in his arms, kneeling on one knee on the floor in a state of complete collapse.

"This..."

"What exactly did you go through?"

Guilliman was not wearing his armor, only a comfortable, loose robe.

Lox vaguely noticed several stray white hairs at the temples of this son of the Emperor.

Primarchs could grow white hair?

Lox truly had not known that.

Even on Perturabo, who had been struck by the Hrud's entropy weapon, he had never seen white hair.

Setting aside the many bald muscleheads among the primarchs, Guilliman might well have been the first primarch with white hair.

Though Guilliman did not cry, Lox could clearly feel his emotions.

Exhaustion, numbness, pain, and utter despair.

"For the past century, have you been staying in the Imperial Palace on Terra and handling affairs?"

"Was this how Malcador exploited you?"

Guilliman remained collapsed for a full half hour, while Lox stood there for that same half hour.

Enrico of the Imperial Fists tactfully remained outside the office door, while Guilliman's other sons could only stand guard around the outer perimeter of the palace.

The Custodians refused to allow the Ultramarines into the palace itself. Even Guilliman's own protests had failed to change their minds.

The Horus Heresy seemed to have fully triggered the Custodians' PTSD.