What a beautiful day.
Shande the Blacksmith strode along at a pace that was brisk by Iron Warriors standards, his heavy boots thudding dully against the solid ground.
Being able to torment some vermin blindly loyal to the Corpse Emperor always put him in a lighter mood. If he could torment those yellow-skinned fools, that would be an even better pastime.
Should I tie a crippled yellow-skinned fool to my shield? Secure him with chains and spikes, then listen to him denounce us for betraying the Imperium while being utterly powerless to do anything about it?
It could be done.
Shande the Blacksmith walked down the broad road, indulging in his fantasies.
The buildings on either side grew ever larger and grander, metal emblems of eight-pointed star iron skulls hanging from the walls and gazing down upon all living things.
Those patrolling this district were no longer Iron Warriors, but Iron Bone Guard personally created by their father.
Why? Why would Father rather trust these soulless robots than his own sons?
Whenever Shande the Blacksmith thought of it, pain gnawed at his heart like a hundred ants.
The Iron Bone Guard were considerably taller than Shande the Blacksmith. A unit marked with the initial β approached him and raised its weapon when it was still fifty meters away.
A red targeting laser shone upon Shande the Blacksmith's helmet. The humiliation filled him with both anger and helplessness.
"Communication protocol: purpose?"
"I have an alpha-level urgent matter to discuss with Father."
"Protocol adjustment—alpha. Are you aware of the risks?"
"I know the risks. I am willing to bear them."
The Iron Bone Guard bearing the β designation raised its gun barrel and transmitted information to the other robots. Before long, a massive airship illuminated Shande the Blacksmith with its lights, then