From the weakness of the mind, Omnissiah save us...
The latest subject was strapped to the surgical slab before the robed Tech-Priest, the ancient machines that would turn this mere human into a superhuman laid out on a large, reinforced table next to the slab. The subject was covered in faint marks, invisible to a mere human eye, but to the Tech-Priest, it was blatant as sunlight. Instructions on where to cut, benedictions, and identifying marks. Satisfied that all of the information was correct, the Tech-Priest extended a whirring saw, and sliced open the top of the subject's head, exposing the brain. A small mechandendrite extended from the apparatus suspended over the slab, cutting though the emotional center of the brain and paralyzing the centers that allowed for rebellious thought. The entire emotional center was lifted clear, and the arm retracted. The Priest lifted one of the cold machines on the table, and manipulated it until it began to spit out a clear fiber. Another mechandendrite carefully moved the neural weaver into position, laying a fine network of artificial nerves that immediately fused with the biological brain tissue. Next, the Priest picked up a series of circular metal devices, and plugged them into the thin neural weave. With a small soldering iron, he fused the neural plugs with the weave.
From the lies of the Antipath, circuit perserve us...
Working quickly, he picked up a small chip, and plugged it into the largest neural plug. He laid it into the hole created by the removal of the Amygdala. A green light appeared on a status indicator. Several more of these devices were procured, each of different sizes and colors, and plugged into the neural plugs that studded the subject's remaining brain. When all of the plugs were filled, the appendages of the Tech-Priest retracted. They came back down a second later. Two bonesaws unceremoniously amputated both legs below the knee. In the hollow where the kneecaps once were, the Priest implanted two more, larger plugs. He screwed small cylinders into the side of the plugs and whispered a prayer. They lit up green.
From the rage of the Beast, iron protect us...
Two gleaming brass and steel legs easily slotted into the knee-plugs, their sculpted brass kneecaps obscuring the mechanical horror that lay beneath. The Priest experimentally stimulated the brain of the subject remotely, and the legs moved, as if swimming in air.
The chest was opened by another silver saw, and the lungs removed. They were replaced by a single, complicated-looking apparatus with pipes that connected to the esophagus and to the subject's back. A metal plate was welded in place over the ribs to protect the vital organs. Another tube was extended from the stomach to the rear of the upper espohagus, creating a capped hole in the back of the neck. Satisfied, the Priest extended yet another mechandendrite, and fused the ribs and skin back together, sealing the chest.
From the temptations of the Fleshlord, silica cleanse us...
The Priest moved his attentions downward. The genitals were removed with a swish of scalpel, and replaced with an atmospheric sampling array. Moving upward again, the eyelids were also excised with the shining scalpel, and goggle-like augmetics fused to the face in their place. The Priest removed the tear-glands with a miniscule mechandendrite, and the darting apparatus above implanted two tanks filled with holy unguents and oils instead. With a quiet gurgling sound, the goggles filled up. An almost inaudible moan escaped from the subject on the table. The apparatus above picked up a curved metal plate, carefully aligned with with the missing upper skull, and fused it to the bone. A tiny antenna extended from a hole in the side.
From the ravages of the Destroyer, anima shield us...
The Priest began to chant in both Lingua-Technis and High Gothic, sprinkling holy oils over the new outer augmetics and armor-plugs.
"What was flesh is now made one with the Omnissiah. Mortal being, tested by the Machine-God, becoming new again, is becoming one with the Holy Machine. May the Omnissiah process your data, and the galaxy tremble before your metallic footfalls."
Machine God set us free...
With a mental push, the chains on the slab lifted, and the subject awoken by a shot of adrenaline, ready to walk off to the chambers where he would be equipped and armored. The Tech-Priest raised a dataslate, and quickly typed the new Skitarius' designation.
Julius-Beta-11.
Omnissiah...
