Amman arrived in a small corridor that was filled with the wounded men, thousands of them. Medics, doctors and even a few of the Angles own Apothecaries were bent over, attending to both the dead and dying. His metal plated greaves had been a shining polished gold only a month ago, and now they were a thick, dark red. He quickly thanked the scar who had given him a ride back to the palace and then wished him the best of luck. They shook hands and then with a roar, he and his bike turned around and sped away. As he casually walked down the corridors he saw five apothecaries around several bulky unidentifiable shapes. He paused at stood their for a good three minutes, trying to figure out what he was looking at. All he heard from them were small cracks and buzzes, which meant they were having a private conversation over their vox net, making sure no one else could here. The chief apothecary their had bleach bone armor with the shoulder guards painted blood red. The shapes they were standing around were at least the length of an astartes, possibly longer. Then the thing on the left began to shake violently , making inaudible noises as it thrashed and flailed.
"Shit, Brother Zheme, he's turning. Go get someone to help hold him down!"
Just as he said this, Amman barged in to help.
"Well, never mind. It's fortunate that you came along Custodian, these were angles, tainted by the thousand suns and their sorceress ways. Help us hold him down!" One of them said.
With ease Amman held the brother down by the legs, keeping him from flailing out of their grip. They were surprised with how he was able to so easily restrain the man as he struggled.
The lead apothecary stabbed his surgical tools in the mans chest, killing him instantly.
"Another gene seed tainted. Wonderful. We appreciate the help Custodian. But now we must return to our work. Good day."
"Good day Angles" he said before stalking out of the room as the door shut behind him.
"Now, where were we?" one of them said once the door was closed.
Amman continued down the bulkhead towards the throne room, not aware of what the emperor had planed for him.