Если судьба свела вас со мной, значит, пришло ваше время платить за свои грехи. / Paratus sum.
'But you have not yet completed your intended duty, Astartes.'
'Is that so?'
This time, the pause was longer. The old woman laughed within her bubbling tank. 'We are not face to face.'
The knight reached up to his armoured collar, disengaging the seals there.
Without my helm, the scent of sacred oils and the chemical-rich tang of her amniotic tank are much stronger. The first thing she says to me is something I am not sure how to respond to.
'You have very kind eyes.'
Her own eyes are long-removed from her skull, the sockets covered by these bulbous lenses that twist as she watches me. I cannot return the comment she made, and I do not know what else I could say.
So I say nothing.
'What is your name?'
'Grimaldus of the Black Templars.'
'Now we are face to face, Grimaldus of the Black Templars. You have been bold enough to come here, and honour me with your face. I am no fool. I know how rare it is for a Chaplain to reveal his human features to one not of his brotherhood. Ask what you came to ask, and I will answer.'
I step closer and press my palm against the casket's surface. The vibration is twinned with that of my armour. I can feel the eyes of the Mechanicus minions upon me, upon my dark ceramite, their reverent gazes showing their longing to touch the perfection of the machinesmith's craft represented by Astartes war plate.
And I look into the mechanical eyes of the princeps as she floats in the milky waters.
'Princeps Zarha. Helsreach calls for you. Will you walk?'
She smiles again, a blind grandmother with rotten teeth, as she presses her own palm against mine. Only the reinforced glass separates us.
'Invigilata will walk.'
Dembski-Bowden Aaron. Helsreach
'Is that so?'
This time, the pause was longer. The old woman laughed within her bubbling tank. 'We are not face to face.'
The knight reached up to his armoured collar, disengaging the seals there.
Without my helm, the scent of sacred oils and the chemical-rich tang of her amniotic tank are much stronger. The first thing she says to me is something I am not sure how to respond to.
'You have very kind eyes.'
Her own eyes are long-removed from her skull, the sockets covered by these bulbous lenses that twist as she watches me. I cannot return the comment she made, and I do not know what else I could say.
So I say nothing.
'What is your name?'
'Grimaldus of the Black Templars.'
'Now we are face to face, Grimaldus of the Black Templars. You have been bold enough to come here, and honour me with your face. I am no fool. I know how rare it is for a Chaplain to reveal his human features to one not of his brotherhood. Ask what you came to ask, and I will answer.'
I step closer and press my palm against the casket's surface. The vibration is twinned with that of my armour. I can feel the eyes of the Mechanicus minions upon me, upon my dark ceramite, their reverent gazes showing their longing to touch the perfection of the machinesmith's craft represented by Astartes war plate.
And I look into the mechanical eyes of the princeps as she floats in the milky waters.
'Princeps Zarha. Helsreach calls for you. Will you walk?'
She smiles again, a blind grandmother with rotten teeth, as she presses her own palm against mine. Only the reinforced glass separates us.
'Invigilata will walk.'
Dembski-Bowden Aaron. Helsreach