A RELIC ENGINE. FOUR SOULS. NO RESPITE.

IRON
LITANY

The crew can be replaced.
The machine spirit cannot.

Walk the cramped, staggered passages of an ancient tank. Swing the censer, guide the shell, steady the sacred drive, and fight the shapes that seep through unsealed wounds. The battlefield is already passing outside. Hear the custodian guide each office; raise the red edge when flesh breaches the armour.