[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oN268Zt.png[/img][/center]

Horus' plan to keep the larger robot contained whilst the others finished it off seemed to have succeeded. The machine died around him as Horus was shoulder-deep in its mechanical guts. He emerged from its ruined underside, his armor scorched and scratched, and stained with chemical lubricants. What's more, a huge, bipedal war machine of some kind seemed to have joined them. His auspex was still functional, and revealed no biological components to the machine. Its construction was surprisingly sophisticated, but the rudimentary materials which it was composed of revealed how primitive its creators were. Horus regarded it appreciatively; it was a fascinating toy.

His interest was even further piqued as it seemed to obey Driscoll's commands. Horus accessed his tactical systems as the others filed out through the portal. His command tether with the [i]Vengeful Spirit[/i] was severed, cutting him off from his usual command cogitator links. He wondered, though, if he could use the command tether directly on the robotic dinosaur; using [i]it[/i] in lieu of the [i]Vengeful Spirit[/i]. He wasn't sure if the primitive cogitators it was imbued with could accept or process his armor's data tether, but he tried none the less. A wireless command link was directed toward the dinosaur's processors; nothing aggressive, yet. Just a simple command handshake request. Horus could afford to take his time, for now it seemed.

Horus was one of the last to follow through the portal, its shape changing to accommodate the terrifying bulk of his armor. His footsteps turned from dull impacts against grass to the gong-ring of metal tile as he stepped from the field into a crowded chamber. A long hall, all with doors identical to the one that Horus himself had just stepped through. And there were others, waiting for them. A boy with a sword, and a girl floating off the floor. Horus' gut instinct was to check for signs of psychic or alien interference, but it felt futile. He was at the mercy of... whoever was here. Now was not the time to make enemies.

"[color=9bc2b1][b]I am Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the Sixteenth Astartes Legion, and Warmaster of the Imperium of Mankind.[/b][/color]" He proclaimed proudly as he stepped through the portal. "[color=9bc2b1][b]Does any of that... mean anything to you?[/b][/color]" He asked, his tone softening as he registered the vacant looks the others were giving him.