With a sudden realization Zuriel found himself looking into the eyes of a marine out of armour. He knew it was a marine because of its size and his posture.
What was more important was that his hiding place had been found. He sat up, brushed his robe slightly splashing some filthy oil on the floor.
As he moved into the room he cocked his head and watched the downed people. The entire situation was a mess, loyalist marines, chaos marines, an ork and an ogryn.
The entire thing seemed like some sort of holo-film made in some more dubious place in the universe, or the topic of some crude joke. Except for the fact it was all too real.

He was holding his fingertips to each other in front of him, it helped him reduce stress. Or more like focus his mind, for it was in dire need of focus.
The book had not been kind to his cohesiveness.

He looked around him, the room and its machines not really making sense to him. Curse this psychic shield, he could not tap into the warp for knowledge. Now he craved it, needed it.
Suppose it was well played master of machinations, well played.

Zuriel reached the ork and briefly noted the scene.
-"You will have to put your past rivalries behind you astartes, fallen angels, heretics, mutants, abhumans." As he spoke he looked at different people of those present. Firstly the emperors child, then the techmarine and the apothecary, then the crying sod a bit longer and finally the ogryn.
He began to look over the wound in the orks arm.
-"If you wonder why i am tending to the wounds of a filthy xeno it is none of your business. However we are in this together and i assume you recognize the call. The reason why i assume you are all here. It can't be a coincidence." Zuriel spoke with seriousness, before sitting down and began to pull forth a rivet gun.

As he began to work he took some random shrapnel and used as rivet backings and began to crudely rivet Urgrugg together with filthy black smudges all over. He began to mutter and speak to himself as he worked.
-"Orkoid, xeno specimen of large size, probably nob. Weirdboy sub-variant, not overly wealthy, probable snakebite seeing the lack of clan markings.... orkoid physiology is tougher than that of humans, contrary to popular propaganda the larger orkoid leader caste often show similar resilience as the astartes themselves... orks are weak and lack proper muscle density, just shoot them in the head and they will topple over dead.... cybork, i could make it into a cybork... i should probably put it out of its misery."
With that Zuriel dragged out his hellpistol and put it to the temple of the ork... but hesitated.
He put the gun down seemingly confused.

-"No, we need its prowess. It's power." He went on, and gazed into the mysterious gem on Urgrugg's staff, which Zuriel promply picked up and began to study closely. Now muttering in some language none other understood, or it was just random syllables jumbled together, it was difficult to tell apart.
The arm was roughly riveted together and covered in unnaturally filthy oil which seeped into its partly open wounds. But Zuriel didn't care.