"Other than me, how many loyal brothers were still alive? Ferrus and Vulkan had both died on the killing fields of Isstvan V. Rumor had it that Corax escaped alive. Was the Khan all right? And Dorn, stationed on Terra? The Warmaster would never spare the Solar Segmentum. Dorn would be his greatest obstacle."
"What about the Lion? He had concealed his whereabouts. The last news of Sanguinius came from the Signus system. Russ had always been the most impulsive—had he already been torn apart by the enemy?"
"My brothers... were they still safe?"
After only a single glass of low-alcohol wine, Roboute seemed almost drunk as he began muttering to himself.
Lox patted the shoulder plate of the seated Guilliman. He was not very good at comforting people.
To the Ultramarines, he was their great genetic father. To the people of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, he was an invincible king. But he was also human. He had never lost his identification with humanity, even if no human could match his extraordinary excellence.
"Sometimes I wonder whether I am the only loyal son left. Has this vast galaxy become the Wolf Lord's spoils? Has Terra already fallen?"
Guilliman looked at Lox, hoping he would say something.
"Then do what you should do. Don't worry so much. If you are the last loyal son, bring vengeance to your brothers. If you are not, then wait in the Five Hundred Worlds for your brothers to arrive. You must stand united."
Lox's certainty encouraged Guilliman. He waved a fist, his expression animated as he outlined an initial vision.
"I must find a way to break the effects of the Ruinstorm. The Five Hundred Worlds must become one again. We cannot see the light of the Astronomican, so we must find a