"It had been too long. The Butcher's Nails had replaced over a third of his brain tissue. If this damned, vile technology had not been sustaining the War Hound's life, he would have died long ago."
Lox and Magos Land tensely operated the equipment, conducting physical examinations on 193 War Hound Astartes.
The silent War Hounds endured the pain of the Butcher's Nails without a word. Even when medical saws cut open their skulls and long, narrow metal probes were driven into their cranial cavities to slowly extract brain tissue for testing, they did not make a sound.
Because of the Butcher's Nails, conventional anesthetics had no effect on them whatsoever. Their nerves were forever kept in a state of intensely overstimulated excitation.
As Magos Land controlled the metal probe and touched the brain tissue that had been ravaged beyond recognition by the Butcher's Nails' tendrils, the War Hounds could still calmly answer his various questions.
The War Hounds' naked bodies lay upon cold silver metal tables. Dense, cruel scars covered them like spiderwebs, while black neural interfaces stood out starkly among them.
Those were the marks of their achievements. Every War Hound who had survived to this day was a battle-hardened veteran in the truest sense.
Stone Men assistants helped with the examinations, covering the War Hounds' bodies with white sheets. The other Blackshield warriors all fell into deep silence, quietly watching their battle-brothers.
Hal showed no expression. He knew that, to his brothers, this pain was nothing worth mentioning.
Even dying on the operating table was better than being tortured to death by the Butcher's Nails.
The brain tissue samples extracted from the War Hounds' skulls were sent for testing. The Stone Men entered the collected data into Cogitator models for analysis and simulation, seeking the most perfect