Slayer strolled through the corridor leading to the command deck with its servants.
During the construction of the Skull Titan, Slayer had descended upon several battlefields of extreme intensity and witnessed the Giant War Machines the Adeptus Mechanicus called Divine Machines.
Its consciousness had even been drawn into certain Titans by Titan commanders consumed by rage, allowing it to tour their interiors as though on a visit.
The internal structures of those Titans extended from the lower levels upward.
Slayer did not like that. It wanted the slaughter machine it had built for the Blood God to have a different style.
Using several technological devices it had invented, along with a few unlucky souls captured from the Warp, the paths within the Blood God's machine were straight and its spaces vast.
The Blood God's servants did not need to climb up and down through engine chambers that devoured men. Once inside the Titan, they only had to walk forward or backward to reach its head or feet.
But this time, something was wrong.
"How long have we been walking?" Slayer asked its short, wretched daemon servant. "If you cannot answer, I will mount your head on a brass frame and send it to control the eighty-eighth Daemon Engine."
"Oh, my master... we... we should have returned to where your Throne is by now... master..." the daemon answered, trembling.
Slayer was reasonably satisfied with that answer.
It did not want to hear its slave tell it how many minutes or seconds they had walked. There was no need, nor was it possible, because timekeeping was meaningless within the Skull Titan. Feeling was truth.
They should have arrived. It felt that they should have arrived. Yet they had not, and Slayer immediately sensed that something was wrong with the place it