The loss of a patient, even though we were using him for a highly questionable experiment, has had an effect on me. It is one thing to lose a patient on an operating table, it is quite another to have a [redacted] explode from its chest with a gleam of fiendish hunger in its eyes. It was luck, not skill that won the day. I am reminded all too well of my own venerable body. Have I realized my training would have left me so unprepared for what I would encounter in the field I would have focused more of my lessons on firepower and less on my understanding of the lore.
I have done all I can to provide to my team some small token that, I hope, if we are caught in a similar situation we will be better prepared. I will exhaust all my ability to create connections to better supply our small team and while my charges are at rest, and recover, I will take one more step toward becoming more than I am today and may the Omnissiah find me worthy.
I realize that my role will need to change if I’m to serve the Omnissiah and the God emperor. I will use all my efforts to continue the support of this team and wipe this [redacted] out of existence.
The chanting rolled from the temple of the Omnissiah in a rigid mechanical tone, parts were harmonic, parts were overly mechanical. Sounds of Metal on metal, sharping of steel, and hammering thundered, as the chanting continued.
A perfectly shaped rectangle of black metal rested upon a glowing table. Oil oozed from it, seemingly out of nowhere, filling the reservoir held within the table.
“There is no certainty in flesh but death,” chanted the priests surrounding the room.
Nash also chanted as he struck the box, with a long blade arcing a blue electrical fire from its blade. A rune began to swirl and glow upon what moments ago was a solid black mass.
“Omnissiah bless this making, let not the Ruinous powers or unfaithful machine spirit sully even the lowliest allele,” exclaimed Nash.
“There is no certainty in flesh but death,” again the priests chanted.
A tone of what only could be described as warm and approving, rung out from the casing. Nash raised the casing key to his lips, only once, so not to offend the machine spirit within. He slowly inserted the blessed key into the rune, a radiant glow shot out of the rune swarming over the room and rested, pulsating, upon Nash.
“May the holy lumen guide the blade,” chanted the priests.
The box let forth a gale of steam, an impossibly strait line shone out of the casting and continued to expand down it’s length. The steam seemed to double and continued to bellow out of the box. It was accompanied by what would be an incapacitating odor if it was not for the masks worn by all in the room. The smell could only be described as ancient blood, rusted metal, with a hint of burnt oil. Visibility in the room was reduced to less than an inch or two by the now overabundant fog.
The priests removed their masks and inhaled deeply. A loud clang run throughout the room, silence followed and a few seconds later rattling chains could be heard being drug across the floor and up the walls. Suddenly an audible pop was heard and the pressure in the room suddenly lessened. The fog quickly lightened and escaped through, what could only be described as exhaust vents in the shape of skulls surrounding the room. A priest stood next to each of the skulls and each faced the skull and released the bit of fog escape their body. This was quickly pulled from the room as well. The cloud could be seen being pulled into transparent collectors surrounding the room. The clouds continue to spin and when the chanting began again shapes began to take from in the cloud and pulsate along with the rise and fall of the chanting.
“As the Omnissiah gives we will return,” chanted the priests.
A faint glow still emanated from the casting, inside sat a set of arms and legs surrounded in synth-muscle, and a oozing viscus material slowly dripped from the muscle.
The priests surrounding the room moved forward.
Four approached the casing and carefully pulled the arm from the material, it clung to the muscle and seemed to ignore the gravity pulling on the oil it was mixed with.
“Life must be given by the unworthy,” chanted the priests.
Nash removed his robes and gave himself the first of many injections into his right arm. He could feel his arm go instantly numb. A priest grasped his now numb forearm, another braced him on his left and before Nash knew it his right arm was ripped from his socket.
The pain was beyond anything he ever felt before. He wavered in his stance but quickly held, he knew if he failed to remain conscious he would show dishonor to the machine spirits and this joining would be cursed.
His limb was held over the matching arm and all blood and marrow was squeezed from his now lifeless true arm. The blood sizzled as it hit the arm, more steam came forth from the metal limb and was quickly pulled into the collectors.
“The spirit of the fallen will be joined to the Omnissiah”
“Anima Mechanica, exsuscitare!”
Upon the final word the metal limb was jammed into the open socket. Tendrils shot out of the metal arm slamming into the right side of Nash’s chest and shot out of his back. A
second set shot though his back and exploded out of his chest. Both sets intertwined back into the arms and the limb tightened into the bloody socket with a loud audible pop. He could feel smaller stabbing into his bone where the metal touched his raw socket. Nash’s eyes began to roll upwards, the viscous fluid still clinging to the arm began to flow up the limb seeking the flesh touching the metal, as it found its target it bubbled and popped. Nash felt as if his nerves were being burned one at a time. Pain streamed up his neck and stabbed at his brain. He felt as if his head would explode form the throbbing pressure. He saw a white film flow before his eyes and as quickly as it begun it stopped.
Nash stood there and could feel his nerves connecting to his new arm, but the pain was now gone.
“There is no certainty in flesh but death, the spirit of the fallen will be joined to the Omnissiah”
Nash picked up the second injector in front of him with his new arm and jammed it into his left true arm.
The priest grasped his left forearm and the other priest braced him.
“Anima Mechanica, exsuscitare!”