"Oh! Wonderful! What perfect coordination!" Trazyn emerged. Whenever a fight broke out, he would stand nearby recording it, with absolutely no intention of joining in.
"If you and..." Perturabo seemed about to say something, then waved a hand and turned his head away in disdain. "We don't need help from xenos like you."
"Oh? So you no longer consider the Aeldari outsiders? Hmm, this is getting more interesting."
"Being outsiders and offering help are not mutually exclusive. Outsiders can help too," Rogal Dorn pointed out the flaw in Trazyn's challenge.
The liquid medical robots wrapped around the wounded warriors, repairing their wounds and regenerating severed limbs. As for shattered armor, there was nothing they could do about that.
"All right, let me calculate how many died just now. These robots killed four hundred of our warriors. The Battle Sisters and crusaders suffered even more casualties... They lack augmentation; only a few with talent could keep up with the robots' movements. The Aeldari are picking up stones. Should we enter the building first, or wait for him to return?" Perturabo said.
Jaghatai lay on the ground for a while before catching his breath. "We can't rely on him for everything. We are Primarchs, the Emperor's sons. When there are no difficulties, we must press forward. When there are difficulties, all the more reason to press forward."
"I agree with Jaghatai. A wall will not collapse just because it is missing one hard brick. Even a pile of fallen bricks can become protective cover."
"Then let's keep moving inside..."
Everyone moved forward cautiously, remaining alert.
The building's doors still functioned. That was good news—at least Perturabo could save himself the trouble of setting explosives.
The doors first sank vertically, then rotated and slid away toward the upper left and lower right. Light