Watching his armor being painted black was a strange sight for Sirren. To have his armor stripped of color so ceremoniously carried a significantly different context to a Son of Sanguinius, and he never thought that he would watch it be done in complete lucidity. It was a feeling something like dreaming; not unpleasant, but still unsettling. When that was done, he affixed his Deathwatch pauldron without any fanfare or ceremony. This was duty for him, not glory. His utmost goal was to survive and return to his chapter, where he could return to his much-needed services.

Much to his surprise, Sirren was appointed a Blood Angel to assist him in his transition into the Deathwatch. The forethought was well-appreciated by the Flesh Tearer, both in that he had been paired with a gene-brother, and that it had been a member of his magnanimous predecessor chapter. A fellow successor to the Blood Angels was like as not to be prejudiced against him, due to his chapter's savage reputation, but the Flesh Tearers and their parent chapter had been on good terms since the Conclave of Baal.

"Hail, Blood-Brother," Sirren greeted Brother Lartius in his harsh, muddy voice, "Frater Sanguinius has favored me this day by granting me your company and guidance." He approached the Deathwatch Veteran (who by his looks, was not yet as senior a marine as Sirren himself), his helmet slung under his arm. "My journey has been long," he said, in hushed tones so that only Lartius may hear him clearly, "Are there facilities in this fortress with which I may [i]purify[/i] myself?" A vague question to any other marine, but the Blood Angel was likely to pick up on the subtext of Sirren's question.