Vulkan's return had sent Nocturne into ten full days of celebration.
During those ten days, Vulkan warmly received almost everyone who came to seek an audience with him, learning through them how Nocturne had changed during his absence.
The Salamanders and the members of the many tribes walked with their heads held high these past few days. Nocturne's many artisans had decided to build a colossal commemorative statue to celebrate the Primarch's return.
Only Vulkan's nearly inexhaustible energy as a Primarch allowed him to receive so many people. Otherwise, even the shrewdest noble would have died of exhaustion.
Once Vulkan finally finished dealing with everything, he sought out his brother Sanguinius, who had been waiting patiently all this time.
"Brother, I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting," Vulkan said, a little guiltily.
"Don't worry about it. It's only natural," Sanguinius replied, entirely untroubled.
He looked at the magnificent hall beside him.
"Besides, even I've had trouble handling the Salamanders' enthusiasm."
At that, both of them laughed, then began discussing recent events.
Vulkan was somewhat surprised. He had never expected so many of their brothers to have returned, or even to have dealt with the Orks, one of the Imperium's great chronic afflictions.
As for matters such as the Tyranids and the Necrons, his understanding was not especially deep. He had only learned about them from his sons.
"To think you're already attacking the Eye of Terror..." Vulkan said thoughtfully.
"How did you get inside?"
"With the Aeldari guiding us, we were able to avoid many Warp currents and Chaos traps."
"The Aeldari?"
Vulkan was somewhat puzzled.
Thanks to the arguably foolish "mercy" he had shown in his youth by releasing unarmed civilians, the Aeldari treated him a little more favorably.
But Vulkan knew perfectly well that the Aeldari were