Pholax never knew what to really make of Minteril, his words always seemed like they were just flattery to try and butter someone up. Today his words were sounding like that of a man wanting more than he currently had, did Sidon tell him no to having something or that troop and he decide to spite to him by taking one or more of his squad from the early days of the Legion? Whatever it was, Pholax was getting an odd vibe from him. "I would say the Throneworld is the priority. The crumbs are not the prize, but the loaf. The rats may also be after the crumbs, but they also see the loaf and their greedy eyes grow wide. Kill the rats before they get their hands on the loaf or all is lost." Pholax wondered why he was making such a strange analogy but it seemed to make sense to him. Then again, he was the living dead, who would really care if he made sense or not. Then coming out of his musing to himself to explain his feelings. "Unless you know where a nest of these vermin are, I care little, Minteril. If you do not have traitors for me to kill, then leave me to my thoughts." Pholax remained upright and seemingly distant from Minteril but did turn to him for the last of his words, "If you do happen to be in need of support, just ask and I will head there as soon as I am able. The traitors deserve nothing more than a quick death, they are worse than the Xeno, worse than the witch or the mutant. Oathbreakers... Traitors... Heretics... All deserve nothing more than to be put down." Pholax waited a few seconds before realising that Minteril was talking about how the old ways weren't that great to the Emperor's Children. "I would caution you not to speak ill of our past. The old ways guided us, it is the shaking off of them that's caused all of ... This to happen. I'd rather kill myself right now rather than allow myself to forget I'm a Chemosian and an Astarte of the Third Legion, birthed from the genes of the Phoenician." It took a few seconds before Pholax realised what he'd said, even with all the horror, nothing was ever going to change who he was, he was a son of Fulgrim and what his father did would follow them like any other monster of Chemos before he "brought the waters". "Do not forget where we come from, Minteril. No matter what roads we've walked. I would still like to see the perpetual grey of Chemos at least one more time, once this madness if over and I can finally be put to rest."