"Parent!" Roboute calls down the halls of the Imperial Palace, several custodes hot on his heels "Siblings!" Cape fluttering away, a distinct smell of surgery and disinfectant follows the 13th "I am unable to locate you all by smell. Where are you all? My schedule does not reflect your positions!"
Perhaps the Regent has become rather lost.
"You must calm yourself Lord Guilliman" a servitor, biomechanical and sterile attempted to administer additional sedatives and pain medication as he walked. It's motions were strict and servile swiftly attempting to calm the primarch before damage could truly be done "please allow me to attend your stasis wounds"
"You are out of place Lord Guilliman" an older voice, commanding and elderly stepped forward from a group of terrified Noble's. "Do you think yourself above basic decorum and manners simply by birthright?"
The elderly man in dark power armour bearing a dark hood stood before the primarch wearing the sigil of that old busybody bastard of a man, Malcador. The quiet in the hall was sharp as the custodes awaited an order they knew not what and the man before them seemed intent on barring the Primarchs way.
