Desperately thrashing at the tendrils Zethidis does no risk bringing his chainfist to life for the sakes of the brothers around him, instead he reaches for his skull and tries to get it loose. At least then he can identify the enemy and perhaps even find a way out if necessary. While Zethidis struggles he is ever staring at the throne.

Beneath his helm his teeth are bloodied and clenched together, his blood bubbling over a great flame of rage.