boombox
This prompts a soft chuckle.
"Indeed you did. When my control slipped and the Editors escaped my grasp, I did die. But you have to understand, before everything went sour, Elandra and I were concerned about maintaining the succession. Neither of us had heirs that were of age or could be trusted with the weight of the Imperium, so we turned to another method.
We had our minds scanned and uploaded to a secure database with an up-link to our mortal forms. But then the War..."
Here he trails off, sorrow etching his face. "After the Maw receded, the database was found. But the dreft, our long-lost, twisted children used us not as advisers, but as tools of war. We were copied into clone bodies, fitted with control implants and forced to fight and kill against those who had been our allies. We thought we were free from at least that horror when the end came and the Houses fled. "
He turned back to Rommel, serious and solemn. "It found them, in the dark between the galaxies. The Enemy, the Foe, the Shadow. The last creation and the fallen servant. They fell into worship of it and now they're coming back. You must tell the others. If anything of the old alliances remain, you must warn them. They are coming out of the dark, and the foe has mustered every servant, every long-forgotten horror of the old empire to its banner. And...they will force us to lead them."
