Alpharius vented his fury without restraint.
Damn Guilliman, leaving this enormous mess behind and going straight to sleep. I'm the one stuck working overtime. Why didn't I bite him a few more times?
As these thoughts ran through his head, Alpharius tore into the "blasphemous idea" of Imperium Secundus.
Lady Euten hardly dared breathe beside him. She understood that, with the mortal advisers and Titus present, his words were meant for their ears. But was such fierce language also an expression of dissatisfaction with her suggestion back then?
Lady Euten felt no fear. Instead, she looked up at the lofty Primarch with aching sympathy. She seemed to have grown shorter, and he loomed even larger in her eyes.
Poor child. He has endured far too much over these years. He has never had time for a proper rest. The Imperium puts too much pressure on him. Yet as a mother, she had no way to ease the burden on her "son."
She hated her own helplessness.
After a few more curses, Alpharius noticed that everyone around him had fallen silent. The mortals bowed their heads, afraid to speak, while Lady Euten simply gazed at him through tear-filled eyes.
The Lord Regent realized he had lost his composure, then swept away the awkwardness with a series of clear orders.
"The Crimson Tide has no intention of doing this. Or rather, if they did, it would suit me perfectly. The White Scars and Raven Guard Expeditionary Forces will continue their missions, driving the Imperium's enemies into the darker reaches of the galaxy. Disperse the First Expeditionary Force to secure the main shipping routes in the Solar Sanctum and the other sectors. Summon the Chapter Master of the Imperial Fists for a conference."
Guilliman dismissed everyone, murmuring something into his helmet as he