He watched the cold machines march past in perfect step.
All four Sons of War tensed their muscles, while the Custodian standing behind them swept his piercing gaze over their surroundings.
His judgment had been correct.
These Men of Iron bore them no hostility.
Otherwise, the instant their group appeared, they would probably have been blown up along with their cover.
The cannons carried by the Hexapod Machines nearby were impossible to miss. There was no reason to spare their little group.
Unless they had never intended to attack in the first place.
But that also filled his mind with questions.
Both the Emperor's teachings and his own experience of war told him that the Men of Iron had long since run out of control. These creatures were always seeking companions in their fury, while seething with hostility toward everything around them.
They would gather into swarms and slaughter living things.
Yet the Men of Iron before him defied everything he knew.
These cold mechanical bodies were intact, operated smoothly, and fought together in an orderly fashion.
They were utterly unlike the maddened Men of Iron they had encountered before.
What exactly had happened to their group? What sort of world was this?
Some strange sorcery?
Enuncia?
Or had they been thrown into a parallel world where the Men of Iron had never run out of control?
The Adeptus Custodes who followed the Emperor knew many secrets.
That knowledge came from the Emperor's teachings.
The more they knew, the more imposing the Emperor's erudition became in their eyes.
Even when the Emperor offered only a brief explanation before stopping, they felt no resentment.
The Custodians personally fashioned by the Emperor understood very well that knowledge was a double-edged sword. If the Emperor said no more, it meant they should know