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Rotations happened every sixteen hours, with each soldier getting eight hours of rest so that they can reassume their frontline duties as addressed. A damning demand of war was upon them and the Omnissiah was well aware that how they were fighting this war would take the better part of the next age of mankind before they gained any sort of leeway.
Each of his soldiers still had a soul and thus had independent thought. They can also adjust and develop in different ways that were not standard among their brethren. Even the Astartes who were in a way most genetically similar to one another could not claim that they would think alike.
There were other reasons to enstate such an order upon the lines.
+The Fifteenth comes to face us.+ Arkhan Land said as he stroked his beard with a hum of interest, +Damn fool.+
+He was a fool.+ The Omnissiah answered as he looked over the replicated landscape of the Webway upon a recently crafted holodeck, +Sighting of the Thousand Sons among the Daemons are increasing by the day, none of them making contact with the front lines as of the current moment. Where they were witnessed the Daemons of Tzeentch fought both the most ferociously with the numbers that might have made a difference. He is probing us.+
+Did we present him any weakness to exploit?” One of the greatest minds of the Cult Mechanicus asked as he moved the map around with a push of will.
+I have, three times, each of which he has continued to spectate instead of launching his assault. I am to assume that he has some form of foresight that is granting him knowledge of the battlefield and thus any secrets we hold.+
+Have we attempted to jam his attempts?+ The man asked as he petted the monkey that was on his shoulder.
The Omnissiah nodded a response, +The presence of the rock formations I brought into the Webway are ruinous to his perception as well as my own. I also include the machines I have been employing that are repelling the artillery of the enemy as also repelling longer range spells. All of this considered, he is now a Daemon Prince of Tzeentch.+
+Bothersome.+ The man answered.
