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What needed to be done.

Pangea scoffed. This courtesy was to be done out of preventing Lorgar's rage. Nothing more. Later in the day, Pangea sent the recording to Lorgar without much of a thought.

Old Gods.

Old Faith.

A world already tainted. Disgust prickled her throat as she stared at Colchis from the bridge inside Hydra. The dark grey interior and Hydra's familar clicks and low hums echoed softly unlike the almost silent interiors of Bucephelus. Diani stood on Pangea's left, silent but dutiful as ever with Hector at the head of the bridge overseeing security with Hayward.

“This planet should be just colonized by Imperium citizens instead of leaving it untouched or unstripped.”

To think those misguided worshippers would be part of the Imperial Army, the very thought wanted her to gag. Certainly, due to being a homeworld of primarch the Colchisian forces will gain certain privileges that no other regiments will have. The thought stoked her disdain hotter.

“At the very least, that damn monastery should be blown up.”

“Shall I inform the Master of Ordinance and prepare some refreshments for the viewing?” Diani said playfully.

Pangea rolled her eyes.

“Funny.”

The dark grey interior and Hydra's familar clicks and low hums echoed softly. Hector climbed up the stairs to Pangea, his jaws clenched with a worried gaze. He eyed the tabac stick nestled between her index and middle finger.

“Lorgar Aurelion has arrived, your eminence.”

Pangea blowed out a puff of smoke.

“Good, tell him I'll meet him in my office.”

Pangea always thanked Diani's work. The once blanket of parchments, used quills, and dried inkwell that habitated on her wooden table disappeared. A circular ceiling light with hanging chains of glass and different shaped lamps made from various materials illuminate her office. Various scented candles were scattered in small corners and on top of cabinets and containers, leaving no corners unlit and shrouded. Beige marble floor reflected the light, almost glowing from how much the floor bounced back the light.

“Sister.”

Lorgar on the red carpet that stretched from the entrance to her table. Pangea's eyes watched Lorgar's steps, and saw his feet stepping on the Aquila without much of a thought. Lorgar sat on the large chair clearly fit for an astartes or a short primarch on his own.

“Tea?” Pangea gestrued toward a Primarch sized cup with a large teapot.

“Please." Lorgar took the cup and sipped on the tea. "The brew is elegant, thank you.”

“I'm glad. I invited you here to inform you of this.”