"Forward, Brother Evan, forward..."
"Kill that Aeldari Psyker. We must never..."
"Heh, so cold. Where's the enemy? The enemy... where's my Warblade?"
"Machine God above, I, Annos, a tech-priest of Mars, beseech your blessing with the utmost sincerity. Doverlit, return to us..."
That voice sounds so familiar. Oh, it's Brother Annos.
"Brother Annos, have we destroyed the enemy? Why can't I see? Were my eyes injured?" Doverlit fell silent, startled by the mechanical, electronic voice that had emerged from him.
"One moment, Brother Doverlit. Looks like there's still a little problem here... let's talk for a while first."
"What exactly happened to me...?"
"Brother Doverlit, we will always remember your bravery. Unfortunately, your sword wounds contained some unknown cold toxin. It was constantly eating away at your body."
"Yes, I can feel the cold around me, but it won't defeat me."
"No, no, no, Brother Doverlit. The cold you're feeling now isn't from the sword wounds. We couldn't treat the cold toxin, so we removed every part of you that had been poisoned."
"Is that so? It's all right, Brother Annos. I trust you. You'll make the finest prosthetics."
"No, no, no. It was far more serious than that, brother." Annos reconnected a cable, and the enormous construct before him lit up again.
"Can you see me now, Brother Doverlit?"
"Yes. So... a Dreadnought?"
"Yes. You've been asleep for decades. We captured a damaged Dawn Angels Dreadnought. Can you sense the Machine Spirit?"
Doverlit remained silent. For the moment, he still couldn't accept that he had been interred.
After a long while, Doverlit spoke again. "No, brother. You know I'm no expert. I... I can't sense any Machine Spirit."
"I see. That's a shame." Annos was at a loss too. This Dreadnought's Machine Spirit had been gravely wounded and had