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L34MAN watched as the Machine God lifted his father above its head and drove it through the other side.
He was a Primarch, a being who was the Genefather to both the Astartes and his Acillians. He knew he should continue to fire at the Necron Warriors who were advancing upon his condition but the sight of such a travesty was immense.
They had failed, all of them. With the death of the Fabricator General Lucius would quickly find itself in an uproar of travesty in what he slowly began to understand was a very dangerous time in the Imperium. It was just something that was in the air of everyone that he knew something horrible was going to happen.
This was something horrible indeed, yet he knew this was not it.
With a roar of rage the Acillian and his brothers turned their Volkite guns onto the incoming hordes with a renewed fervor. Many quickly stopped firing their Volkites and instead charged into the Warriors with their own finding of fury.
The Acillian could not blame his brothers, for they needed a place to release their anger and the hordes of the Necrons were just as good a source as any.
L34MAN looked over to count one of the last Steel Wardens to remain, a Dreadnaught, who looked upon the sight with an unmoving gaze. Looking upon the Dreadnaught made L34MAN forget all his anger entirely and wonder just what was going through the mind of that being.
+We have not lost.+ the Dreadnought said without any prompt from L34MAN, +He is ascending.+
Confusion quickly rattled the mind of the Acillian as he looked towards the happenings. He noticed it! The Fabricator who should not have been able to move at all raised his hand and had gripped the Machine God’s chest.
Then, he watched as the Machine God began to melt. The Divine being slowly inching its way into the body of their Father and Lord.
