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As the ritual rose in intensity, some of the ones on the platform moved in pantomime, raising their arms to the heavens as the shouts grew to a frenzy. There was not an Acillian or tech-priest among them, and yet the Arch Dominus was able to see Around them, the machines spirits responded. Vehicle Lumens turned on in self diagnostic checks, illuminating the war dance, servo-skulls moved to make repairs to armor, weapons, even vehicle engines seemed to rev in engine tests adding to the fury and passion of the war chant.
It was then that Talos began to realize. For all the disdain the Martians had heaped upon these ancient tribes, calling them heathens or heretics. . .their prayers were true prayers to the Machine God. They lacked comprehension and understanding, but there was the basis of truth in them.
“I was told once that these were worthless superstitions, baseless and without merit to them.” Said the Arch Dominus
Without turning to face him, Vadar responded. “Is that what this is, Father?”
Talos shook his head. “No.
This is faith. It just lacks direction.”
