Once the patrolman began to move away, the diagnosticator indicated a slow return to vital function for the dying man on the ground. His heartrate and rhythm began to normalize, his body temperature increased, and his spirit began returning to his fully-biologic corpus as indicated by a restored consciousness. 

The face of a red-headed child looked up at Tekart, seeking some form of aid from him, gratitude obvious in his blue eyes simply for his being there. Illness and helplessness made the man look younger than he was, or perhaps it was the doctor's innate sympathy that had altered his perceptions. The boy began to shiver as his body functioned to warm itself. 

Markus lifted a pale hand to the old man he came to realize was kneeling beside him. "So cold..." He whispered the words. His hand trembled and sought the reassuring grasp of another, human hand. "Have I served?" He asked weakly with selfless concern, his voice somewhat louder. He was obviously still disoriented. 

With some assistance, Markus righted himself. He didn't know what had happened, and he was worried that he may have failed in his duties. He looked at the good doctor by his side, thanking him, then to the red-robed mechanicus adept who's face still appeared to be female, and then, more slowly still, he turned in the direction of the source of his crippling discomfort. Markus mentally braced himself in order to behold the anomaly at the edge of his physical and psychic perceptions. 

He looked at the man, yet even trying to get his eyes to stay on the figure was difficult, and painful. What he beheld astonished him, as if it shouldn't even exist. He could find no other words to describe what he was perceiving except to say, "That man... has no soul!" Shying away, Markus sought refuge behind the other two. "What are you?" He asked Octavian from behind the others, knowing that he alone was uniquely vulnerable. He wanted to identify everyone, but first, he had to figure out what being had just nearly killed him.