You’re aboard the imperator-class titan ‘Sundial’ as it strides through the rolling hills of Infinity
You’re praying at an altar of the Kroniissiah inside the massive cathedral that doubles as a clock tower, all atop the god engine’s left shoulder
You have fully given yourself to the Adeptus Kroniicus, becoming a dedicated techpriest charged with the maintenance of the mighty walker you now kneel in
A techmarine approaches the altar and kneels beside you, lighting some incense before clasping his hands in prayer
The marine’s voice is low and hushed
”When were you first enlightened to the Kroniissiah?”
A faint whirring kicks in as your thought processor sorts through centuries of memories and experiences
You sigh. “I will never forget it.” You begin
”My world was like most in the imperium, a not yet fully tamed planet dotted with hive cities and clusters. I was young and carefree, back when I still clung dearly to my flesh...I like to think my creators properly raised and socialized me. Although we were not the poorest among our hive city, we certainly did not live atop the spires. Life was...”
Your cogitator struggles to come up with a word to accurate relay your thoughts
”Good. Yes. Good. Though I admit I was a troublemaker. My compatriots and I found great joy in stealing fruit and other merchandise from local traders. We would eat them as we ran from them, laughing as we went. We were always able to outrun them, and once we knew they had given up we would feed any leftovers to the stray dogs we found in the street. The arbites felt we were not worth the effort to arrest or prosecute.”
The techmarine nods his head in contemplation
”You feel nostalgic for that time?”
You shake your head.
“Nostalgia is a weakness of the flesh. A fuzzy and euphoric filter for memory. It bends the truth and appeals to emotion, a most illogical concept.”
The techmarine bows his head slightly. “That may be true, but if it gives humanity hope and the motivation to continue to live, then is it not at least slightly helpful and worth keeping? Surely you can find the logic in that.”
You mull the question over before you are interrupted by the techmarine
”My apologies, do continue with your story.”
You begin again. “It all changed when the warp storms came. Nurgle had seen fit to isolate our world from the warp. We had prepared for a grueling siege from demons of Nurgle or the Death Guard. But they never came. What once was prosperous was now slowly dying. Food became more and more expensive and less and less abundant. Soon we had riots in the streets. Neighbor turned against neighbor. It was anarchy. The water grew polluted and our food grew poisoned. The rats and bugs multiplied. An environmental filtration mask became a necessity.”
You take an moment to organize your thoughts before you continue
”I had always relied on my parents for support in times of crisis. It only made it hurt more when they were killed. They had taken an extra loaf of bread—for me—but they could not convince the rest of those waiting in line. They slaughtered them like animals.”
Your voice modulator peaks slightly. It takes a moment to readjust it

”One day, I had received my daily ration but my acquaintance had not. He asked to have it. I politely refused. He became agitated and attempted to take it from me. In the scuffle he shoved me but not before I kicked him away. I fell against the street and looked down in horror to find my environmental mask had been broken. The breathing tube had a gaping hole in it. My friend had suffered a far worse injury than I. He had upon fallen a sharpened piece of metal, no doubt used in one of riots. He has bleeding everywhere. The rats and bugs could smell the blood in the air, they were gathering towards us. I could hear them chittering and clicking. I lost all rational thought. I had switched over to the animal part of my brain. My desire for my self preservation, my instinct, overtook my conscious mind. I scrambled over to him and ripped the mask from his face. I quickly ripped mine off and replaced it with his. I watched his pleading eyes as he succumbed to the plague, while the vermin and insects ate him alive.”
You would cry if you could
The techmarine simply kneels alongside you, expectantly listening
”As I returned to the decaying prefab building I called home I felt increasing distressed. When I attempted to sleep I would imagine his pleading face. I began to cry. Perhaps because of the loss of my parents, my source of stability. Maybe because my weakness had murdered my friend.”
You continue with a renewed sense of vigor. “But in that moment of total grief and sadness came the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. It sang to me, filled with happiness, desire, and life. I started crying again, not out of sadness, but out of joy. Everything became so clear. Only then did I understand the weakness of my flesh.”
You begin to feel...saddened?
”With all my decades of experimenting I have never once been able to replicate that voice. I have never been able give to others the gift the Kroniissiah gave unto me.”
The techmarine shifted slightly
”That is quite the story”
”As are all that involve the Kroniissiah” you reply
You spend the rest of the time insilent prayer before you return to your labors.

The last echoes of your bolter fire subside
You’re surrounded by corpses, mostly doxxbeat traitor guardsman
Most are missing a limb, some are missing a head, and an unlucky few have a gaping hole where their body used to be.
You pick up your bloody chainpick, and sit down on a pile of rubble as you recite the Litany of Cleansing as you clean your weapon
Your helmet auspex picks up a faint sound
A sharp raggedy breath
You get up and are around about to step forward when you hear the sound beneath you
You look down to see the mangled form of a boy, no older than 10, his arms and legs twisted in horrible directions
His whole body is covered in shrapnel wounds and bruises
Another sharp raggedy breath
You kneel down and support his head with your hand, leaning him slightly forward
His breath steadies and becomes less labored
”What is your name boy?”
His voice is barely above a whisper
”Damian milord”
”You are very strong and brave Damian.”
He begins to cry
”I don’t want to go”
”It is natural to be afraid of death Damian. But you do not have to worry.”
”Why?”
You smile underneath the helmet. “In the moment right before your death, the Kroniissiah will find you and bring you with her to the end of time. You will leave all of your pain and suffering—your mortal body—behind. There you are free.”
”She....does this with every single human?”
”Of course, Damian. She loves all of the faithful. She has seen us grow from infancy to death. She has watched us stand up, falter, and fall, only to rise again for an eternity.”
”But what about the weakness of the flesh?”
”That is just another test the Kroniissaih puts us through. By overcoming our flesh, our mortality, we prove our worthiness to her. Flesh rots and decays, but steel and metal last for eternity.”
”What about me?”
”You needn’t worry. She has already tested you. You have not been found wanting. You are worthy”
Soon the boy’s breathing starts to soften down until the plaza is once again quiet
You pick up his broken body and head for the nearest dropship
You prepare a special coffin for him and entomb his mangled body inside
You have it sent back to Infinity so that a loyal follower of the Kroniissiah