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The corpse that laid down before TalOS was that of what could easily be called a mutant perversion of mankind’s flesh. Kneeling on the ground TalOS examined the blackened veined flesh that was running up and down the circulatory system of the victim.
Taking out his tools TalOS struck a scalpel deeply into the skin of the person. If TalOS was a human he would have struggled to make even a simple cut into the leathery flesh of the man he worked upon. Such toughness was obviously not natural to mankind and was shown to be a mutation that was caused by whatever was there.
Examination showed the standard cancer that was upon all creatures laying upon the back of the neck. TalOS studied it, his senses feeling out the danger that was within it. This cadaver was still alive with something that TalOS could only describe as a perversion.
“You done looking at the Corpse, brother?” The gas mask voice of Mortarion sounded as he looked down upon TalOS.
His Brother did not looked much entertained to TalOS as the Fabricator General looked at his wayward brother, “What do you feel about this place. The sickness that acts like a plague throughout this area.”
“It's no plague.” Mortarion said sternly as he raised an energy gun to slaughter a few incoming mutants, “This is not caused by some microbe or chemical compound. It does not stink of sorcery either, so it must be some mechanical creation.”
His brother was correct, heavily so to the understanding of TalOS. The Motive Force around here was flowing and changing in odd ways. He had a guess at something being at the center of this but he did not know yet.
“I need one of them alive, let one of them get closer.” TalOS told his brother as he finally rose from the corpse.
“If we leave a gap opened for one then five more are going to come our way. We will need to go towards the front.” Mortarion said as he looked over the trench they were in.
TalOS gave a few wordless commands to the Steel Wardens who were surrounding them along with the Deathshroud who were the person guards of Mortarion, “We will march forward when you command it.”
“MARCH!” Mortarion told his Legion without a second thought.
