HOUND

Chapter 3: Survival.

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I was told it hit the ground so hard, it made what was left of the stockade collapse. I was told that it twitched and screamed on the ground for fully 26 minutes.

I was told a lot of things but I remember nothing of them.

That death throe threw Hound clear and, for the third and final time, we sailed through the air before coming to land, all broken metal and twisted thoughts.

I blacked out.

They told me that, when the adepts got to Hound and came to unplug me, I fought them, tooth and nail. They said I screamed like an animal and spat blood through broken teeth and, when they finally got me free, I screamed and cried before they sedated me.

I haven’t piloted Hound since, I haven’t even seen him.

Sure, they fixed him. They replated his hull, they replaced his snapped servo bundles, they reset his cogitators and they reconsecrated him every step of the way but I can’t step inside Hound. Not yet.

Fuck, I’ve never felt like that. I felt both alive and dead. My blood was boiling oil and my mind was mechanical rage, all jagged edges and bottomless hate.

Everything feels grey now, like someone turned the saturation down on life. People clap me on the back as I walk from the infirmary to the hangar. I ignore them. Dull things, what do they know? I was a god. I was a million miles tall. I breathed smoke and I was wrath incarnate.

The hangar is quiet as I step inside. It’s empty, save for the field mice that get everywhere.

What remains of Cossack is here too, just slagged parts sat in an empty bay. I feel sad. I think I feel sad anyway, or at least I try and pretend to.

What happened? Where did I go?

Something stirs as I approach Hound’s bay. I feel warmth rise through me. I feel love and joy and deep, untethered hate all at once.

I step closer.

I’m stood inside Hound’s bay now and I can feel his metal bulk, crouched in front of me but I can’t look at it. Not yet.

I hear a noise, faint, on the cusp of hearing. A gentle hum where there was silence before.

I look up.

Hound rises, unbidden, and looks back at me.