No Control
Epilogue: Silent and Alone
The servos of the conversion unit slowed to a halt. The subject's brain had all emotion purged from it to impede the logical functions, all remnants of the original personally burnt out and wiped. The newest Cyberman rose from the sepulchre and joined its silent fellows.
The latest convert turned its empty gaze around the tombs, and then joined the other Cybermen in defense of their world against the theocracy. The humans were not really enemy, just subjects that could be saved from organic mentality. They would escape this hive somehow, and then stalk the streets of other planets and cultures, hunting down those who walked in the open. They would be converted and join the Cybermen in breaking down doors to finish off the families who huddled and the children who cowered.
The superior Cyber Race would logically defeat the imminent invaders and survive. Their armies were ready to march, to seek, locate, retrieve and convert for centuries, even millennia until there were no more worlds to conquer, races to convert or technologies to assimilate.
And the Cyberman that had once been Antola would aide the cause for the rest of its unnatural life, for like all Cybermen, it knew no other truth.