She saw Alatros the moment she entered the temple, the thermal form of him clear to the primarch’s bio-augmented vision against the cold bodies of the dead. The Space Marine was crouched down on one knee as if in a gesture of fealty. With careful, steady actions, Alatros sat in the middle of the lake and mechanically cupped handfuls of the dark fluid, one after another, to his lips. He drank silently, unhurried.
‘Look at me,’ ordered Sanguinius. Her heart tightened in her chest and a very specific kind of sorrow gripped her as Alatros slowly obeyed.
