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The glass was of rock crystal with a method that made one of the panels easily seen through. It was clearly made artistry whose techniques were foreign to the natives of Olympia. Indeed the previous burials that Olympia hosted were cremations that involved the Iron Casket. To have a glass casket like this one was clearly meant to preserve the body and prevent it from decomposing.
With a small focus upon his hearing Perturabo could tell that there was more than met the eye. Underneath the body of Dammekos was a series of pipes which fed into an air pump. Thus the glass container was being filled with a preserving gas that would cause all forms of rot to stagnate. It is not clean as a stasis field, but the risks and costs were far less than using the technology of the Mechanicus.
Looking upon the man Perturabo was taken aback by how old the man had gotten. Dammekos was middle aged when Perturabo left him for the stars. Looking upon the Tyrant of Lochos now Perturabo realized his father must not have used any of the Mechanicus’s Youth Rejuvenation to stay alive.
It was… sickening. Perturabo could not help but feel his heart start to give as he looked upon another body that had suffered the changes of time. Where Perturabo was the same in body as the day he left Dammekos, Dammekos had died of old age.
Just like his Iron Warriors had.
Perturabo thought back to all the times they had talked. Now that it was taken from him the Iron Warrior realized just how much he had messed up. In his foolishness he had allowed time to catch up to him and damn all those that he even marginally considered family. He could admonish the foolishness of Dammekos for not taking the Mechanicus for the rejuvenation treatments, but that would only mean he dies from something else.
In the end Perturabo had been made the fool.
As he looked upon the corpse he felt a hand upon his shoulder. It was heavy, far more heavy than anything its size should have been. But the feeling of gnawing upon his being was there, thus Perturabo understood whose hand was upon his shoulder.
“May I ask, to who was this man?” His brother TalOS asked without any mirth within his voice.
Perturabo had been too far into his head to forget that TalOS was still there within the room with him. Maybe that was because his brother was a Pariah, a being whose existence Perturabo naturally did not want to recognize.
At first Perturabo wanted to bat the hand off of him. The thoughts that he should not be seen like this. But in truth Perturabo did not care what TalOS saw him as. After all, if TalOS did not seem to care if Perturabo almost killed a man than at this point nothing would sway his brother’s mind.
