Eli sucked in a sharp breath and tried to move his neck.
"Your right shoulder blade was shattered, three ribs were broken, and your right trapezius was extensively torn. If the medical Tech-Priest hadn't put twelve high-strength steel pins in you, your right arm would have been finished."
A calm voice came from beside the hospital bed.
Eli turned his head with difficulty and saw Alf sitting beside him.
"Alf! You little bastard, are you all right?!" Seeing Alf unharmed, Eli's eyes lit up. He even forgot the agony in his shoulder and struggled to sit up. "I knew it! You might be a bit thick, but you're hard to kill! That damned door didn't squash you flat, did it?"
Alpharius looked at Eli's pale face, so full of relief, and felt that strange stirring within him again.
He set a basket of synthetic fruit, obtained from somewhere or other, on the bedside table.
"I'm fine. The door malfunctioned and jammed," Alpharius said flatly. Then he pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning forward slightly as he fixed Eli with a stare that seemed intent on seeing straight through his soul.
The hidden Primarch still refused to let it go.
His mind, so accustomed to schemes and calculations, was still trying to use complex logic to dissect this mortal's incomprehensible behavior.
"Eli, it's just the two of us here now." Alpharius lowered his voice, giving it the oppressive weight of an interrogation. "Tell me, why did you do it?"
"Huh?" Eli was utterly bewildered by the question.
"Don't play dumb. In that situation, the most rational choice was to fight for that mask. With your build, you would have had a good chance of surviving." Alpharius stared into his eyes, watching for the slightest shift in his expression.
"You