Maturio thought it was about time.
The Drukhari outside were almost starving to death.
Over the past few days, the Drukhari attacking the Shelter had grown increasingly aged, their combat effectiveness steadily declining. For the past week, no enemies had appeared at all.
The Lamenters had suffered heavy casualties. Only thirty-odd of them were still conscious.
Fortunately, another batch of Neophytes would soon complete their transformation.
Maturio emerged from the dark, narrow passage and looked up at the Battle Barge.
The Emperor's angels returned to the skies. The ravaged people emerged from the Shelter and, faced with a devastated landscape, began their hard work once again.
They no longer cried; their tears had run dry during dozens of days of bitter fighting. They no longer felt hatred or despair. Like Servitors stripped of all emotion, they mechanically began rebuilding their homes.
In orbit, Maturio led the Lamenters back aboard the Light of Dawn. Evan was there too.
The Eternal Mountain had already returned to T'au. Annos was still researching the Secret Cult Warship there, so sufficient defenses were essential.
The two Chapter Masters sat silently in a private chamber. Maturio rested his cheek on his right hand and held a goblet of crimson liquid in his left. He kept swirling it, but never drank.
Maturio truly looked like a melancholy angel now.
Evan held an enormous red fruit, taking bite after bite. His mind was elsewhere. He had bitten dozens of times, yet kept mechanically working at the same gap, completely unaware that he wasn't eating any fresh flesh.
Finally, Maturio spoke first.
"Brother Evan, we... some voices within the Lamenters feel that your cry of 'for the people' is an empty slogan... uh, I'm not questioning your loyalty, but those brothers feel you didn't stand alongside the people. Humanity