Two souls. Both ruined beyond true repair. One, a human man. One, a necrontyr woman. Both destroyed utterly.

  The man's soul is shattered. Pieces are missing, never to be returned. The woman's soul is hollow. It was eaten by hungry gods beyond mortal comprehension.

  The universe laughed.

  Each was a part of a dying race. Each died in ways they couldn't avoid. There was correlation in this. Symmetry. The universe liked that. Or should we say, universes.

  For a brief instance, the two separate universes merged. Some things crossed. Ideas, myths, and perhaps most importantly... remnants.

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  A shattered thing, floating, listless. The immaterium was empty now. Soon, it would be filled with the death screams of trillions, but that was not yet now. That was later.

  The broken soul reached out, desperate, lost. It was nudged by immaterial winds. The smallest of shifts, with the largest of impacts. The little broken soul touched something.

  The shattered soul touched something rent. It was pieces, barely cohesive. The little shattered soul reached out, and grabbed one small piece, and filled its shattered body.

  It took another. Then another. Then, yet another. It slowly, ever so slowly, patched its shattered, missing pieces with the remnants of a soul. When it was done, the amalgam stood still.

  It shuddered, and twitched, then, it disappeared. It was no longer in the imaterial world. It had returned to the material, and what remained of its body.

  The shell of Nezekiri twitched in its coffin. The metal arms and legs moved, slowly at first, then with greater speed. The body convulsed with wracking shudders and convulsions.

  Tubes and wires disconnected, and the lid opened. The corpse flopped out, and continued its convulsions. The body suddenly stilled, and the singular ocular grew red.

  The corpse began to scream.