The Doombaby woke and opened his eyes for the first time in the year 999.M41. The cold between life and death gripped his mind and the nerves that still functioned in his grotesque form, the spark of choice clicked in his mind for the first time in his recorded memory circuits, his ability to touch the stream of connected information that flowed from the controllers and into all the other servitor class property that choked the tunnels of the hive made his fingers tingle. He turned to a loading drone and said "Dance". The machine jerked around in a mockery of a humans joyful dance and Doombaby smiled, for he now knew what we had to do.