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The Omnissiah did not raise his axe, for there was no need to.
From all sides as the Mechanicus advanced the Necrons were quickly being made into scrap metal that they were. Their protocols useless as the Omnissiah halted all repair systems and teleportations.
Such a thing was easy for it was the Machine God who made them. The Knowledge of a God in the Union made such things trivial.
Upon reaching the steps the Omnissiah looked to see a series of Astartes from both his own blood and that of the fourth standing in triumph. The one who led them, the Primarch Perturabo, had one knee upon the throne of the Overlord while holding the necron within his hand. With a sickening crunch he destroyed the skull, thus permanently killing the immortal within his grasp.
With the Scythe of the Overlord within his hand Perturabo turned towards the Omnissiah and advanced forward. Confusion continued to travel through the mind of the mortal, so much so with the Omnissiah slowly lowering himself to the lever of his brother.
The two of them looked upon one another. Their heights were matched as the Omnissiah remained at the same height as the brother this man once knew.
The two of them looked at one another, brother to brother. If such a consideration was acceptable for someone like the Omnissiah who had become something other than TalOS. Then again, with consideration to what their brothers were becoming it was reasonable to keep the title of Primarch and Brother.
“You.” Perturabo said with his mortal voice in what was a demand. Such a demand was delivered with a sharp gaze as he looked upon the Omnissiah with both disdain and sadness, “Are you still my brother? Are you still TalOS?”
>Yes, I am TalOS.
>We are both TalOS and the Omnissiah
>We are the Omnissiah.
