Cogs in the mind of Secunda Toros whirred into action as she processed the answer while trying to balance looking dignified and unintimidating. The second was not a significant problem for the default flesh configuration fresh out of the decanter tank.

Primo, there has been a murder and the interloper happened to be ignorant of any new Arch-Fabricators coming onto the top of the food chain. Any successor would have made damn sure that everyone remembers who is the new ruler of the Forge. Toros herself spent her first year on highly aggressive prole indoctrination campaign, after all.

Secundo, nobody on Isohedron, especially no servant of the Omnissiah, would dare call it "a factory". This was a reductionist take on what Isohedron was supposed to be, the manufactorums being almost an Olympia-enforced byproduct of the cathedral of knowledge. She was of another faith and walked under different skies, that's for sure.

Tertio et ultimo, only two Adepta would have sent someone clad in power armour and brandishing a bolter. And last time Toros checked, you needed a weapon between your legs before being allowed to wield one for Astartes. Which brought her to the obvious, yet inexplicable conclusion that she has an independent, armed and dangerous Sororitas in the inner sanctum of the Mechanicum facility - and, due to miscellaneous mishaps in the succession protocol, Secunda was NOT the one in a position to ask any of the thousand angry questions in her head.

"Sister, it is a bit complicated, but I am not with Archmagos Toros, for I am Archmagos Toros. You, of all people, should know that 'only in death doth the Duty end' is a luxury not everyone can afford.", Secunda raised her hands and forced out a weak smile as she was desperately trying not to shiver (of course, it was just cold). "And before I eagerly answer any further questions... If I am not mistaken, there should be a robe in the drawer on the wall behind you. I would appreciate being allowed some dignity."