The watchers in the dark emerged from shadows about the chamber, to armour his hulking body. Plates of armour were riveted and plugged into his scarred flesh and the layers of his tactical dreadnought armour extended his bulk considerably. The last of the robed watchers knelt before the Librarian and humbly offered up his gigantic force sword, which he effortlessly lifted from the struggling figure with a single armoured gauntlet. The watchers bowed low, doubling over, pressing their heads to the cold marble floor, then fled back into the darkness from whence they came.
Alone, he fell to one knee, leaning on his sword as the chamber filled with silence and an eerie glow of the force sword. With eyes screwed shut, Corvin offered up his prayer to The Lion: "It is well known among the Deathwing that Cypher carries with him a sheathed sword that he never draws. I believe that it is indeed the sword of El Johnson, recovered from Caliban before the scourging.
Cypher must not be allowed to tread on holy Terra, to enter the Imperial Palace, to beg Him for forgiveness. There can be no forgiveness, no respite and no future for the fallen. I know well in my heart that my brethren abhor me. Like they abhor the mutant, the alien and the witch.