SYRINE - Into the Grim Darkness of the Far future - Wong40k (2024)

Chapter 1: INTO THE GRIMDARK

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: GUNFIGHT

Chapter Text

I wanted to scream. There was a gunfight happening right in front of me. This supposed lucid dream session was turning into a real nightmare. Being a lazy pacifist who resided in a relatively peaceful country all my life I had never been anywhere near a gunfight, let alone a gunfight involving futuristic heavy weapons. But no voice came out from my throat, weird messages kept appearing in my vision.

[Regalis]Action override-

[Regalis]Action override-

[Regalis]Action override-

'Protect the holy daughter!' The leader-looking sister ordered and tackled me.The holy daughter who?No time for any question, we went down on the floor just as another round of enemy fire was let loose.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion, I could see the tracer fire flying past above me and actual bolter rounds flying and spinning in the air.

Wait a second.The world around me really did slow down to a crawl. In a mind-numbing state, I began to look around. Everything around me appeared in exquisite detail. It was only then I noticed the new messages that had appeared in my vision.

[Combat detected]

[Cogitatio Acceleratio auto activated]

[Auspex auto activated]

Then the most peculiar thing happened, I felt an expansion of energy burst forth from my body to the surroundings. As the energy expanded forward scanning everything on its path, I gained a clear understanding of the chaos around me. An indescribable feeling of clarity reached my mind and I could read the whole battle as easily as the back of my hand. We were cornered but benefited from cover and elevation. 11 battle sisters with 3 fighters of unknown origin against 35 enemies, 2 of which were enormous. I froze at the distinctive silhouettes of the two giants amongst the hostiles.

No mistake about it, mixed within the mass of incoming gunmen and towering amongst them were the familiar shapes of hulking armoured individuals with huge pauldrons. This setting, this universe, these can only be … the transhuman space marines.

As a long time player myself on the grimdark tabletop miniature game, I personally had over a hundred space marines under my collection and instantly recognised these as the main threats. As if the situation wasn't dire enough, one of the hostile marines was holding a weapon that looked too large to be carried by a human - a heavy bolter.

The other marine was barking orders, as he did so in slow motion one of his minions with a flamethrower stepped forward towards two of our fighters that were hiding behind a cover. 'Flamer!' I screamed internally at the hapless duo who were about to be doused by fire. Then the time dilation effect stopped, the cacophony of a close-quarter gunfight hit me like a truck.

Real-life gunfire was much louder than I had ever imagined. My ears were hurting as I felt the resonance of the discharge of every weapon near me. The sound of firearms being fired indoors had a distinct quality to it, they hit you like a solid hammer.

Again I wanted to scream, again that message appeared.

[Regalis]Action override-

I tried to slow down my breathing, only to discover I was breathing at a normal pace.What is this?My mind was a mess but my body was calm. The incongruity made me dizzy.

Suddenly, another weird sensation came to me, mixed within the chaos of the gunfight was a distinct pattern calling.

<01010011 01111001 01110010 01101001 01101110 01100101>

I had absolutely no idea where that came from and why it caught my attention during the gunfight. A shower of shattered stonework pulled me back to the immediate threats near me. A deafening amount of gunfire was pouring from the enemy side, to be answered by distinctively fewer but heavier guns from around me. Bolters, the sisters were shooting bolters. One can clearly hear the gun caliber difference by the sound they made.

Regardless, lucid dream or not I need to get away from here. Then an inconvenient truth came to me, I realised that except for a large blast door behind us in a short distance, the hostiles had blocked the only way in and out of this chamber. I knew this from the scanning action earlier. Every inch of the chamber was pictured clearly in my head, I could see and rotate it in my mind’s eye with absolute clarity. But was this information true? Can I try to do the scanning action again to confirm? I need to see it again, to confirm if there was really no other place to run.What was it called again? Auspex was it? Come on, come on...my consciousness expanded in the next second.

[Auspex]activated-

Another blast of scanning energy expanded forward. With my readings, I saw the battle from a god’s eye view. The duo that was approached by the enemy flamer had relocated further back, the piece of cover they were hiding behind just a moment ago was in flames. I wondered if they had heard my warning?

The enemy flamer had garnered himself a lot of attention, soon he was fed with a dozen bolter rounds and exploded into a huge fireball. The blinding flash and explosion robbed me of my hearing. Nothing but constant ringing in my ears.

But I could still ‘see’ the enemies from the residual readings from my last scan, banking on the new experience I tried to do the same action as before.

Hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile with a grenade launcher!

I marked out the closest batch of enemies and tried to project their positions to the people on my side. To my amazement, the battle sisters switched from random suppression to disciplined burst zeroing in on the targets I marked in the smoke-filled chamber.

The first enemy to go down was the grenade launcher user, he was standing around apparently still dazed by the fireball. A bolter round lodged into his head and blew it off like a watermelon hit by a speeding truck. The rest of his marked companions soon followed his fate. The unfortunate gunmen briefly danced like ragdolls as they were hit by a hail of bolter rounds, then they literally exploded, showering blood and body parts freely before fading from my readings. I wanted to vomit.

The air had a hint of metallic taste added to it now. Deprived of sight and sound, I became conscious of the stank of blood and sweat.

<01010011 01111001 01110010 01101001 01101110 01100101>

That calling came again, but I was too occupied with making myself small behind cover. Despite the good opening for the fight, we were still outnumbered and pinned down by the sheer volume of incoming hostile fire. Fortunately, high ground and solid cover proved to be our salvation as the enemies struggled to utilise their advantage to end us.

With teary eyes, I risked a quick peek and saw them advancing through their fallen ranks, the space marines pushing the rest forward through the smoke and dust. This was bad, very bad. I need to do the scanning trick again.

[Auspex]activated-

For the third time, I sent forth an expanding detection net to mark the enemies.Hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, hostile, another hostile with a grenade launcherthat was sending grenades over at my current location. Grenades were flying over here. At the same time, a corner of my mind registered the hostile space marine aiming his heavy bolter at me. My mind went blank.

'Get down!' The leading sister appeared from nowhere and pushed me down, covering me with herself from impending death. Totally helpless, I closed my eyes and waited for impact. After being subjected to the loudest sound I have heard in my life, I expected the worst and opened my eyes only to see dust all around, miraculously all my limbs seemed to be still in their respective places in contrast to the piece of life-saving cover that had been blown clear by heavy fire. The sister who saved my life was still on top of me but appeared hurt and was groaning from unseen injuries.

How I escaped from that unscathed but the power armoured sister didn’t was beyond me. The gunfight raged on all around, it appeared the heavy bolter marine was directing his wrath elsewhere at the moment after being shot by other sisters.

We have to move, now!I thought and pushed the sister, she fell over with surprising ease, considering she was wearing power armour and the full weight it entailed.

Then I saw it. My hands, these weren't my hands. I panicked and looked down at myself for the first time in a while due to all the happenings. Instead of my usual T-shirt, I saw a white robe.

WHAT IN THE WORLD?!

A loud clang was heard behind me, I turned and saw that the sealed blast door was opened. Grotesque figures were pouring out, tracked monstrosities with human-looking torsos rolled out one after another with huge guns blazing from where their arms were supposed to be.

At the forefront of the newcomers was a ginormous figure, far larger even than the space marines below, and it was rushing towards me, non-human legs carrying it across the floor with astonishing speed, it opened and stretched its many arms, I saw a multitude of weapons and guns hanging on some of it.

So this is GG. I expected death or the end of a dream and closed my eyes. But neither came, so I looked up.

A huge hooded figure was in front of me, it had positioned itself to block any incoming fire from the hostile gunmen below, its many hands extended to form a shield around me. The palms of all the hands were metallic but shaped into distinct human-like appendages.

<01010011 01111001 01110010 01101001 01101110 01100101>

Finally, its meaning reached me. The binary canticle faded and a name appeared in my mind.

<Syrine.> The hooded figure was directly addressing me.

Where its eyes would be were several huge lenses. On all their reflections I could see but a single person -- the Aquila young lady I met at the long winding foggy road.

Chapter 3: ARCH TECH-PRIEST DOMINUS

Chapter Text

A hand was reaching out, trying to touch the many reflections of a pretty lady on the many lenses belonging to a metallic monstrosity.

It was a very delicate looking hand with fair, flawless skin ending with really feminine fingers and the final touches of perfect, methodically kept nails. It was not my hand but yet it seemed to obey my every command. Every little twitch of fingers, any slight turning of the palm was reflected in those lenses.

That hand never reached said lenses, a metallic appendage that was shaped into a perfect imitation of a human hand intercepted it. I felt the coldness of the metallic palm. Despite its outward human form, the hardness of its surface confirmed its non-organic nature.

<No signs of external injuries, but I detected your brainwave to be 70.865% deviant from your standard pattern. Are you well, Syrine?>

This thing was asking me questions in binary beeps.How was I able to understand binary?Nothing made sense anymore, but the reflections on the monster’s lenses told a cold truth, for reasons beyond my comprehension, I…I am Syrine now.

Then a realisation struck me like lightning.This metallic monstrosity is acquainted with the Aquila lady. What if it learned I was not the real Syrine but someone else who just took over?

Severe stress took over and total panic was just a hair's breadth away, I needed answers and a way out. Do I have anything to fool this monster just for a while?Information, I need information,do I know anything about it? Anything? ANYTHING?

[Severe stress detected]

[Cogitatio Acceleratio auto activated]

The world slowed again, the gunfight was still raging on but seemed so distant in the background. Another line of words appeared in my vision.

[Run Analytica? YES / NO]

With almost teary eyes I looked at the prompt.Is this salvation? YESSSS!Readings popped up in my mind displaying information for the monster before me.

Name: Kryptorer Cykell, posthuman, arch tech-priest dominus.

I remembered now, this ginormous grotesque cyborg was definitely looking the part for an Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-priest Dominus. His overall appearance resembled a hooded and hunched gigantic man with multiple pairs of robotic arms, one of his many hands was carrying the signature Omnissian axe of his order. Over what was left of his body was a hooded robe that was typical for a tech-priest, and completing the package were his non-human legs which looked like a combination of inverted claws dangling with a bundle of random wires. On his back, a myriad of antennas and unknowable instruments stuck like pikes.

The release of the Adeptus Mechanicus plastic range was a relatively new event compared to a lot of the armies of the grimdark universe. If I recall correctly the initial start collecting box package was a particularly generous offer. In my zeal to quickly start up the army, I bought multiple boxes and ended up with a few redundant copies of tech-priest dominus figures laying around.

As for those tracked monstrosities with human torsos and huge guns as arms around the tech-priest, they were a mix of heavy combat units of the Adeptus Mechanicus known as Kataphron breachers and destroyers, these killing machines came in an expensive kit of three per box during release and were spammed by the power gamers.

But enough reminiscing about my hobby, the current situation needs to be resolved. Digging hard into my mind, I reviewed my options given the absurdity of the current circ*mstances.

Betting on the information gained from the reading, I started by saying his name, ‘Krypto…’ I flinched at my own voice when it came out and did not manage to finish speaking his name. Unlike the one I was used to for decades, the voice that came out from me was elegant and feminine and it startled me.

<Old Krypto is here for you, Omnissian princess. Please tell me, are you hurt or experiencing any discomfort?> He canted.

Eh? Not finishing saying his name was kinda a jackpot?

Apparently, Syrine was close enough to the tech-priest to address him with a shortened name. Calling him by his full name might actually arouse suspicion that something was amiss.

That was close, too close.

But the next part made me shiver internally.I need to speak in Low Gothic.If this was my old body I swore I would have been sweating by the buckets. But there was no going back, the tech-priest was waiting for me. One way or another, this charade will end with or without my answer and I rather take an active bet.

I had a hunch as earlier when the sister spoke in the language its meaning came automatically to me so I dug deep into my mind for the Low Gothic tongue. As if answering my prayer, the language suddenly bubbled into my head and the words came naturally to me, putting in as much anguish as I could, I pushed them out.

‘Where... am I? My head is hurting.’

There, I said it in fluent Low Gothic. To complete the act, I lowered my head to avoid his gaze and put my other hand on top of my head.

The tech-priest dominus made a sound that was halfway between gasping and machine gear grinding to a halt. A slight pause later, a single word escaped his vocal synthesizer.

‘Unacceptable.’

It was a crispy metallic voice laced with hints of age. I tensed up and waited, not knowing what would happen next.

Wordlessly, he raised his massive Omnissian axe and struck the ground twice with its end knob, heavy resonance echoed throughout the whole chamber. All the breachers and destroyers stopped firing their weapons on his cue. The tech-priest then turned his back to me to face the chamber, standing tall to his full imposing height and completely blocking my view, then he roared.

‘Unforgivable! Inconceivable! You dare? YOU DARE?! None of you, not a single one of your misbegotten kind are even worth her single brain cell!’ The volume of his words, amplified many times by overcharged vocal synthesizer, drowned out all the combined sound in the chamber and everything paused.

There the arch tech-priest dominus stood tall at the edge of the elevated platform, he was looking down at all the hostile forces below like an apex predator surveying a herd of helpless lambs, one of his many hands pointing an accusing finger at them.

I gasped internally at his blatant taunting at an armed and hostile crowd.Hey, we are still in a gunfight, you are asking to be shot!As expected, since he made himself stand out so much the tech-priest soon attracted a whole lot of hostile fire, but he was completely unfazed as an energy field flickered to life around him to block most of the incoming fire. Small rings of light flashed on each impact on his protective energy field making it a dazzling sight even when viewed from behind.

The geek inside me cried out with joy and disbelief at the sight of a supposedly physically impossible forcefield in action. However, it appeared to not be foolproof as some rounds did make it through. However those lucky shots merely bounced off him like rain hitting a stone wall, it was then I recalled a tech-priest dominus has some of the best defensive stat lines in the miniature game, outperforming even the premium power armour the Imperium provided for its elites and I was merely witnessing that stat line performance live in action.

With all eyes in the chamber on him, the tech-priest continued, ‘As a devout believer of the glorious Omnissiah, I apologize for my unsightly outburst of emotion.’ He bowed and waved one of his many hands, dropping judgement with a voice cold with contempt. ‘Now, I consign all you unworthy unbelievers to eternal entropy.’

As one every breacher and destroyer fired their heavy weapons, I realised with horror the tech-priest must have done some serious trajectory calculations for his killing machines when he was trash-talking just now. For an undetermined amount of time, an endless stream of deadly shining projectiles was homing to the enemies below and a scene of butchery happened right before my eyes.

Cries of defiance soon turned into despair, returning hostile fire dwindled, then fell silent and finally the Mechanicus heavy combat units ceased firing.

I took a peek at the carnage and saw the aftermath of the onslaught, down there was a scene of sheer brutality. Scores of charred mass vaguely resembling human forms with twisted limbs littered all over the chamber, some of them were still moving but I was not sure if it was because they were still clinging to life or due to the random ammunition rounds and lasgun power packs that were still going off from the remnants of superheated weapon impact.

The smell of ozone and burned meat filled the air. Wordlessly, the battle sisters started walking forward into the charnel house and executing anyone who might actually survive that hell; my civilian brain froze with the sight happening before me.

‘Holy daughter.’ A female voice called to me. I turned and noticed the sister leader was behind me with her helmet removed, blood was pouring down from the left side of her face.

My brain started to move again, the scene of her courageously trying to shield me from grenade impacts surfaced and made me instinctively look down at myself only to see a flawlessly white robe and my hands were lightly dusted but otherwise in pristine condition despite surviving grenade attacks and rolling on the ground.

How was that even possible?

‘I… I am alright. Thank you for saving me, but why do you call me holy daughter?’ It was the best reply I could come up with as my mind was a mangled mess, further adding to the difficulties of my mental processing was the eerie sensation of talking in fluent Low Gothic tongue which I have never learned.

What the sister did next boggled my mind, she went down on one knee and knelt before me.

‘Revered lady. I am Alicya Sabatith, probationary palatine of Order of The Shining Beacon. You must be the prophesied true daughter of the Emperor that He on Holy Terra has sent to lead us in our darkest hour. Please honour us with your leadership and wisdom, guide our order and the people of Imperium in this testing time.’

I was rendered speechless, but she continued to speak.

‘The uprising suppression is at a critical stage. Revered lady, please lead us.’ She looked up, her face was a full display of hope and reverence but my mind started numbing again with her revelation.

Chapter 4: NOBODY EXPECTS THE...

Chapter Text

‘Uprising …?’ I murmured.

Overwhelmed by what was happening around me, I merely echoed what palatine Alicya was saying. The truth was my mind had blanked out a while ago.

Around me was this supposedly real version of the grimdark universe of the far future where I heavily invested in its miniature games as my hobby. I was awestruck by the sheer intensity of what I had seen, heard and felt; the smell of blood, sweat, gun powder, ozone and charred flesh in the air, the sound of each and every gut-wrenching bolter discharge as the sisters continued their grim work in the background executing armed thugs.

Indescribable feelings rose inside me, a part of me wanted to shout ‘Awesome!’ for what must have been a wet dream for any fan of the grimdark universe, to be able to see and experience the universe itself in person; another part of me just wanted to scream and hide from all these as the very core appeal of this universe laid in the fact it was so… utterly horrible and dystopian.

And frankly, I wasn’t sure this was a lucid dream session anymore. My mind just wasn't in the right state to answer the palatine, then someone cut into our conversation.

‘This is no mere uprising.’ A deep and stern voice came somewhere behind. The owner of the voice walked up and appeared beside me and immediately I knew who he was by appearance.

Standing close to 6 feet tall was a man who looked to be in his mid-forties. He was fully geared up with a trench coat overall, on top of his head was a really solid looking capotain brandishing a stylised ‘I’ on the centre. Beneath the shadow cast by the capotain, a pair of blue eyes glittered with sharpness and wisdom. Overall the man was handsome but slightly rough around the edges and had the look of a model who would most probably be hired to represent a certain classic tobacco brand back on earth. However unlike your run the mill models, this man exuded an air of unquestionable authority even just by standing still.

‘Inquisitor.’ I said reflexively before realising my mistake and swiftly ran [Analytica] on the newcomer.

The readings came back: Human, inquisitor.

Inquisitors are one of the highest-ranking agents of the Imperial Inquisition. Relentless and deadly, they are the most important arm of the Imperial government dedicated to ensuring the security of the Imperium of Man. Every inquisitor in theory possessed near unlimited authority, thus most have access to an almost limitless variety of Imperial resources that allowed them to act against any threats they perceived to the Imperium. Think of them as a mix of James Bond and Judge Dredd with a blank cheque to carry out their missions.

Unlike Kryptorer the arch tech-priest dominus, no name came back, which meant…

‘Thaberus Thorn, Ordo Hereticus.’ He introduced himself and fixed a firm gaze on me. ‘You would have to excuse me for skipping pleasantries. Quickly now, can you tell me who you are and what you are doing on this planet?’

‘Honored inquisitor,’ the palatine voiced her displeasure. ‘I must protest the way you are addressing the revered lady, and what do you mean by saying this was no mere uprising?’

The man scoffed. ‘First, before I can verify the outrageous claim you just mentioned, by the decree of the Holy Inquisition everyone here will be under my personal scrutiny. Second, when has a simple planetary uprising ever involved renegade Astartes?’ He finished his statement by pointing somewhere below the platform we were all standing on.

Astartes, a.k.a space marines, were transhuman super-soldiers of the Imperium of Man, these genetically altered superhumans were usually clad in their signature power armour and engage in an endless battle with the horrors of the galaxy, widely known as the poster boys of the grimdark universe. But these supposed guardians of humanity can go bad, becoming renegade or something much, much worse.

Speaking of which, whatever happened to the two space marines that were present in the enemy rank? I followed where the inquisitor was pointing and found the answer. The heavy bolter marine ended up in a pile of rubble, apparently melted together with his choice of cover after being subjected to hails of direct plasma fire. His hands were still twitching as a sister executed him with point-blank shots through the helmet lenses.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any more gruesome for the renegade space marine, another scene was unfolding and it made my jaw drop. There a short distance away a dismembered figure of a giant armoured man was being dragged along the ground by an unknown female figure clad in a skintight black operative suit.

Her sudden appearance sent chills down my spine as I had absolutely no idea when this person had entered the fray and chopped off all the limbs of a space marine. She was dragging the limbless renegade marine towards us, her every movement suggested highly trained lethality, from my knowledge of the grimdark universe, only one type of character fits her profile: an Officio Assassinorum operative or an imperial assassin. Unlike all the operative miniatures I collected, she wore no headgear and exposed her pretty face to the world.

The assassin was a cold foxy beauty with her black hair tied into a warrior’s knot that extended into a long ponytail. This seemed like a really popular hairstyle in the miniature range. As I was dazzled by her appearance and couldn’t help myself from looking at her, she glanced back sizing me up, making my core shivered with her stares.

‘Sir, target acquired.’ She addressed the inquisitor and pushed the hapless marine forward as if casually delivering a mailed package. ‘Right, we should get this done and over with.’ He nodded to her.

The assassin did something to the marine’s armour and then yanked the helmet off him. Underneath the helmet was the face of a scarred warrior with a bald head, but thankfully no signs of chaos corruption, massive amounts of blood was pouring all over the place but it did not stop the marine from dropping a tirade of profanity in Low Gothic.

‘In the name of the God Emperor, do you repent and cooperate, space marine?’ Thaberus asked. The assassin held the marine’s head so he was facing the inquisitor.

‘Hah!’ The marine snarled, ’When my brothers arrive, they will give you all mortals a death not even worthy for street dogs!’ Then he spat, the classic acidic spit attack I read in the lore! As if anticipating this action, the assassin turned his head at the last second and his spit hit the floor and sounds of acid burning hissed on the spot. In a swift motion, she quickly followed up by dislocating his jaw to prevent further similar incidents.

Now limbless and with a broken jaw, the marine was making unintelligible angry sounds, it was at the same time the angriest and most helpless thing I have ever seen in my life. Not happy with his behaviour, the assassin delivered some brutal palm strikes on the marine’s head to silence him with a knockout.

‘Now then,’ Thaberus continued as if the events just now were an everyday occurrence. ‘Put him away. Shall we continue where we left off?’ He turned his cold gaze and looked at me again. I wanted to take a step back but my body couldn’t move.

All these individuals were just so casual about brutal violence.

I had just… witnessed more violence in person for the past hour than all my decades of peaceful life combined. A deep understanding of the laws of this universe was imprinted on me: Regardless of who you are here in this place, violent death can and will come to you anytime should you cross the wrong people or be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

That realisation seemed to have triggered some primal level of fear inside me, my mind had reached the threshold for the emotion but strangely my body did not tremble, but mentally I was utterly spent and just wanted to surrender so I came clean with the inquisitor.

‘I… I can't seem to remember anything. I just know my name and recall that Arch Dominus Kryptorer is my acquaintance.’ The really surprising part of my statement was that my voice wasn’t shaking, but inside I just wanted to cry.

Well, judging by their reaction, that bombshell wasn't well received. The inquisitor did not move and his expression could not be read but that couldn't be a good thing, the sister had a surprised and devastated look on her face.

Just as when it felt like things were about to explode, something buzzed, it was the same sort of sound I had heard a while ago.

‘This better be good.’ The inquisitor said, but his mannerism indicated he was not speaking to me, as expected he appeared to be listening to a vox report via an earpiece and replied to someone a while later. ‘No mistake about it? Very well keep me informed if anything changes. Thaberus out.’

With that, his attention returned to me again, and his level of hostility rose. ‘Quit playing games lady, tell me what you did and why you did it. My patience has its limits and the latest development just escalated the whole situation!’

This was bad, really really bad.

My instinct was urging me to do the totally illogical action of running away -- they all had guns, and the assassin was just beside me. I was on the very edge of a nervous breakdown when a voice of reason came to my rescue.

‘Inquisitor Thorn,’ Arch Tech-priest Dominus Kryptorer stepped in, physically putting himself between me and the scary man.

‘As the highest-ranking representative of the Adeptus Mechanicus on this planet, I formally request you not to further burden my main benefactor of this holy expedition.’

The inquisitor turned to face the tech-priest and they started a stare-down at each other, I gulped silently looking at the two imperial powerhouses. My old habit as a gamer kicked in and I quickly deduced with a small comfort in the scenario if a fight indeed happened now… Kryptorer and his killer machines had a slight edge over Thaberus’ side.

It was palatine Alicya who broke the stalemate. ‘Honored inquisitor and dominus, due to the unfortunate incident just now, the revered lady might have suffered from amnesia or brain damage due to the impact of the direct grenade attack. I had shielded her as much as I could but it might not have been enough.’ The sister said apologetically, both the parties she addressed looked at her bloodied face and contemplated her statement.

It was at this point more people came forward and gathered near us, it was three people, two men and one woman who looked like what you would expect as the hired guns of the inquisition. Thaberus glanced at the group’s most senior-looking individual, and the latter nodded, silently verifying Alicya’s statement.

Kryptorer pointed at the impact craters near us and said, ‘Direct grenades impact, even with her level of protection there might be complications with her delicate condition of just finishing the activation rituals. Inquisitor Thorn, we should put aside my benefactor’s curious case of memory loss under review for the moment, in the meantime what is this latest development you speak of?’

‘Arch Dominus.’ The inquisitor turned to face the tech-priest. ‘I supposed my party does owe you gratitude for your cooperation on apprehending the renegade Astartes. As for that development...’

He said his next words slowly. ‘This will affect every imperial subject in this sector, billions and billions of souls are at stake. I was just informed by my crew that the Astronomican can no longer be detected, the light of the Emperor… is lost to us.’

Chapter 5: SORTING THE MESS

Chapter Text

The Astronomican, a giant psychic beacon located on planet Earth, was the one thing that binds the Imperium of Man together in this grimdark universe. It was the symbol of unity both spiritually and literally for the galaxy-spanning Imperium of Man.

Without the psychic light of the Astronomican to guide the starships of the Imperium, faster than light warp travel between the vast distances of imperial worlds would become so impractical the empire would cease to function.

Palatine Alicya gasped at the unspoken implications. ‘So we are cut off from any chance of outer reinforcements against what that renegade marine mentioned was coming?’

‘Intriguing.’ Kryptorer voiced his thoughts and turned to me. ‘Was that why you were so adamant about immediately activating this psychic beacon when we just arrived, Omnissian princess?’

Wait, what? Syrine did that? This place is the heart of a psychic beacon? And why the princess title?

The arch dominus’ statement made everyone look straight at me, and of course, I didn’t have the answer. My mind was flooded with an alarming amount of warning sirens from what I just heard. A psychic beacon alone was already a huge deal in its own right, plus the Astronomican going offline now of all times? This had all the hallmarks of a world-ending event looming on the horizon.

[Severe stress detected]
[Cogitatio Acceleratio auto activated]

It was then that the thought acceleration power automatically activated again. From my experience, every time it happened, I would have like twenty to thirty seconds of extremely dilated time to look around and organise my thoughts when it was just the blink of an eye in real-time. From my brief respite, I realised my immediate concerns were not the doomsday scenario but to bullsh*t myself out of this soft interrogation.

Working on a hunch, I quickly ran[Analytica]on all the people around me to confirm something I noticed. As expected, only readings from Alicya, Kryptorer and Thaberus came back with their respective names. The three newcomers that looked like inquisitorial hired guns and the imperial assassin all came back nameless but confirmed theirhumanstatus; except for the assassin, her reading returned astranshuman, confirming my suspicion of her being an Officio Assassinorum operative.

Deducing from what I knew, Kryptorer and Syrine were acquainted and that was why the first[Analytica]readings returned with his name even though he had never mentioned it.

Thaberus’ initial reading came back nameless but the inquisitor’s name appeared on the second reading after his self-introduction, likewise Alicya’s mannerisms definitely indicated this was the first time we met. By rounding out all the information gathered thus far, I saw an opening and tried my luck directing the conversation.

‘Krypto. You… you left me all alone during the activation ritual?’ I asked, carefully tuning my voice to just the right mix between curiosity and outrage. My probing question made the arch dominus jolted despite his massive size.

‘Allow me to explain,’ a seemingly agitated Kryptorer quickly offered, ‘It was five hours into the activation and you were still in the state of trance when the inquisitor’s party and the sisters showed up.’

New information. I looked at him silently, buying time to digest what he just said, but that seemed only to make him more desperate to defend his actions.

‘After verifying their identity and waiting for another two hours, the whole system was acting up, so the inquisitor and I decided to venture further into the chamber to see what we could do while the sisters offered to stay behind and look after you. I took all the Kataphron units with me in case of the presence of ancient dormant sentries. Without your authorisation to pacify such entities, any such encounter without overwhelming firepower would be catastrophic to the function of this marvellous technology.’

The arch dominus was talking so fast he was giving me the impression of a child explaining himself after being caught red-handed doing something forbidden by his parents.

‘In hindsight,’ Thaberus said, ‘we were probably being monitored, the timing of their attack was impeccable.’ ‘So the insurgents attempted to murder the holy daughter?’ Alicya asked, fuming with righteous fury.

‘That remained to be seen. All we know is the arch dominus’ party arrival on this planet had threatened the rebels’ plan enough for them to reveal their assets, including the presence of renegade Astartes amongst their ranks.’ Thaberus said before turning his attention back on me.

‘Now, lady…’ he looked at me expectantly.
‘Syrine.’ I handed him the only accurate information I knew.

‘Lady Syrine, would you care to enlighten us? Who are you, how do you know this place and why did you activate this massive psychic beacon?’ He was trying to be civilised about his questioning now, but seriously, that did not put a dent on his intimidation value one bit.

So much for diversions.

‘I…’, my mouth opened but no answer came to mind, desperate for a way out, I ran[Cogitatio Acceleratio]again and tried to use the small period of time dilation to dig into my mind like the trick I did before with the Low Gothic tongue in search for an answer for my predicament. The world slowed again, I closed my eyes to cut off distraction and my consciousness looked inward.

Why was Syrine here? Tell me.

I probed inwards and felt a sense of resistance.

Tell me, I need to know.

A sense of unspoken understanding rose inside me: you are not ready.No, an inquisitor is breathing down on my neck, tell me.

At first, nothing happened, then slowly a hint of a vision flashed for a split second and my mind registered something so terrifying it broke my trance. When I opened my eyes, my face was merely inches away from the floor. Apparently, the assassin’s inhuman reflexes had rescued me from a major self-inflicted embarrassment by stopping my body mid-collapse. I turned my head to the assassin only to see her eyeing me with a cold stare.

It was still embarrassing enough and I could only thank her with a wry smile. Sister Alicya quickly aided me back on my feet and protested. ‘Lady Syrine is not in the condition for this.’ ‘Inquisitor Thorn, I would like to reaffirm my request to you to not further burden my benefactor.’ Kryptorer backed her up.

The atmosphere tensed up again; while still somewhat dazed I looked around and noticed for the first time the individuals gathered here could probably affect the fate of billions of people with their actions. An inquisitor, with theoretically absolute authority on imperial matters, an arch dominus, who proclaimed himself as the highest-ranking of his cult on the planet, a palatine sister of battle, whose rank was below a canoness of the Adepta Sororitas order … and Syrine, me.

Whoever Syrine was, she was not your ordinary girl next door seeing how Kryptorer treated her with a degree of veneration, and that was even before looking into that ridiculous ‘prophesied true daughter of the Emperor’ story sister Alicya spoke of.

Within a heartbeat, I somehow got a solid hold of the current situation.What’s up with this superhuman level clarity of thinking?But my concern was on the rapidly developing situation, so I cut straight into the main current issues at hand.

‘My memory is not good for now. But correct me if I got this wrong, we are now cut off from the wider Imperium and more renegade marines are coming. Did this world request for reinforcements yet and what was this uprising suppression you spoke of, sister Alicya?’

Finally given the chance to talk, Alicya was only too happy to quickly brief me about the plight of their world. A local lord who was the brother of the current planetary governor had taken up arms against the ruling regime with the help of questionable factions and a full-blown civil war was happening even as we speak.

The minor order of Adepta Sororitas stationed on the planet initially stayed neutral in the ‘family dispute’ but later threw their support to the incumbent governor when they received numerous reports about unknown and sketchy forces that were operating under the usurper lord’s faction.

The uprising faction then showed their true colours by massacring the psykers of Adeptus Astra Telepathica chamber to a man, almost cutting off any off-world communication entirely. By then what looked like a power grab at the planetary governor seat had become a separatist movement in all but name and a full-scale war soon followed.

Even with the aid of the Adepta Sororitas, the governor’s forces had a hard time dealing with the rebels, further proving the latter had help from unseen players. The fighting was so fierce that a sizable portion of the Order had martyred themselves in it and Alicya was made probationary palatine despite being relatively young for the position.

Now according to the lore I knew, power-grabbing is something the Imperium would usually turn a blind eye to as long as whoever won the seat of power cooperated fully with the empire. But a separationist movement with the aid of renegade space marines? That would open up proper reasons to request urgent reinforcement from the wider Imperium and usually, loyalist Astartes chapters would be racing over to curb stomp the usurpers in such circ*mstances.

That was when Thaberus broke the bad news: the lone surviving astropath was under his care in a secure location but the psyker had since failed to send out any messages due to unusual warp activities.

‘Unacceptable.’ Kryptorer declared suddenly. ‘The instability caused by this war threatens the wondrous work of the Omnissiah.’ I looked at the arch dominus and suddenly recalled how obsessive their kind was to treasuring technological wonders and had a really bad feeling about this uprising consisting of renegade marines, so I put my theory to the test.

‘Krypto, if they win they might destroy all this, can you help?’

Kryptorer turned his massive body to me and spoke. ‘Affirmative, twelve hours ago I had tapped into the main information network of this planet and have been conversing with the local adepts of my order, appraising the situation.’ He paused, then continued.

‘From my analysis, the opposition appears to have Astartes level background support in key logistics, electronic and communications warfare. That was why they were having the upper hand.’ Sensing his confidence, I followed up. ‘Will that be a problem for you?’

‘Inconceivable.’ He made a sound that was halfway between scoffing and air expulsion. ‘For the others, it might be difficult. But electronic communications warfare happens to be one of my primary research topics and we have the support of a whole starship’s worth of advanced cogitators in orbit. My analysis shows that a key breakthrough development can be conceptualised within the next seventy-two hours if my resources are deployed to aid the governor.’

It was at this moment a skull probe, literally a drone built into a human skull flew in from nowhere and dropped something into the dominus' hand. He opened his metallic palm for everyone to see the item. It was a boxy spidery thing no bigger than a matchbox.

‘This device,’ he said with his metallic voice, ‘is an Astartes grade sentry probe utilized by some of the stealthier chapters, and how they knew when to attack just now.’

‘I have erred in underestimating our opponent and caused harm to you, Omnissian princess.’ He bowed to me. ‘Allow me to atone by securing victory for the governor and thus safeguarding the glorious work of the Omnissiah.’

I nodded, with that secured I turned to Thaberus. ‘Will you allow us to help, inquisitor?’ ‘Well, they had renegade Astartes on their side so their heresy was all but confirmed. In the light of the Emperor’s domain being threatened here, I would allow it for now and will be sorting out your case later. Palatine Alicya, you should take the arch dominus to the governor and Canoness Diadinah immediately and update them on the situation.’

‘What about Lady Syrine?’ Alicya asked.

‘Without a valid reason, she should never be anywhere near the frontline. Only Omnissiah knows what will happen to this psychic beacon should something happen to her.’ Kryptorer said.

Thanks!I said internally to Kryptorer as the frontline was the last place I wanted to go. That said, I surveyed the carnage left behind by the gunfight and didn’t feel like sticking around either. ‘Maybe I can try helping with the call for reinforcements that the Astropath was having problems sending out?’ I enquired simply for the heck of it.

To my surprise, Thaberus nodded.

Chapter 6: GETTING ACQUAINTED

Chapter Text

So we were to split up after that, Kryptorer would join sister Alicya to make haste to the front line and there they would link up with the other battle sisters and the governor’s forces to hopefully put a stop to the uprising. Whereas I would follow Thaberus’ party to the location where the last astropath on the planet was kept secure.

<Please take care of yourself, I will leave some units to secure this site and will be sending your belongings over once I have received the arrangement from the inquisitor.> Kryptorer told me in binary canticle. Not knowing what to say and deathly afraid of blowing my own cover I merely nodded.

Seemingly satisfied with my response, the arch dominus then turned to Thaberus. ‘Inquisitor Thorn, I will now leave Lady Syrine’s wellbeing in your capable hands. Please see to it that no harm would come to her while she is in your care. Fail to do so and I guarantee you will receive more than just a formal protest from me and my order.’

Now he just sounds like a nagging old dad … wait, did he just threaten an inquisitor?

‘I will do that and meanwhile await your good news within the next seventy-two hours, Arch Dominus.’ Thaberus simply replied.

With that, we parted leaving a whole chamber of burned bodies and wounded behind. I followed Thaberus’ group down the route where the gunmen came from and walked through a seemingly endless amount of corridors and strange indoor interiors.

We were a party of six, the inquisitor Thaberus himself was leading at the front, right behind him was interrogator Amael, followed by acolyte Herlindya, then me and Rantor and finally the fear-inducing assassin Niandra guarding our back.

Rantor Crane was a rough-looking man who looked to be in his late thirties, he was what you would expect of stereotypical inquisitorial henchmen with a massive amount of wargear hung around his carapace armour while carrying a large hot-shot volley gun as if it was the easiest thing to do in this world.

Amael Frieden the interrogator was quiet and reserved, he seemed to be in his late twenties, had dark blonde hair and could be considered quite handsome; if this was a story about the rise of a promising imperial agent he would fit right in as the protagonist.

Herlindya Winsen, the female acolyte was a nice looking brunette with shoulder-length hair who also seemed to be in her late twenties, she too was reserved in her mannerism but seemed friendly enough.

I had to emphasise the part of “seemed to be” for their respective ages, from my understanding of the lore of this universe being agents of the inquisition meant that these individuals would have access to life-prolonging rejuvenat treatments, coupled that with faster than light warp travel between star systems making accurate age guessing a much messier process than I was accustomed to.

Then there was Niandra who was behind my back, no doubt to keep an eye on me. I knew she was there, but no footsteps could be heard from behind. Every time I remembered she was behind me the memory of her dragging the limbless marine with a massive amount of blood dripping everywhere would resurface.

She was just horrifying.Speaking of the amputated marine, Thaberus had decided he was to be temporarily left to the sisters to be imprisoned inside their monastery nearby.

Rantor was the most talkative individual among the retinue members after we got acquainted, thanking me openly once he had the chance. ‘Hey, back then it was you who warned us of that flamer right? Amael and I would have been toast if it wasn’t for your heads-up, that was much appreciated and I owe you one for it.’ The large man then laughed heartily and continued, ‘Usually, it is my job to hurt people and get thanks for it but I had my hands full just trying not to get shot back there.’ Both Amael and Herlindya remained distantly neutral after their brief self-introduction. As far as I could tell Thaberus neither encouraged nor forbade his retinue from interacting with me.

The inquisitor himself was always leading in the front and never once looked back since we left that chamber, ever marching purposefully forward. We walked and walked, finally exiting from a seemingly impossibly huge complex to the outdoors. The sky was a weird dirty purple instead of the classic blue. Just nearby was a landing pad with a huge black and dark-red coloured gunship of unknown pattern resting on top of it.

My old hobbyist self kicked in as I gawked at the unfamiliar black and dark red armoured bulk and pointed at it. ‘What pattern is that gunship? That looks too long for a stormraven but too tall for a fire raptor.’

‘Wow, someone knows her gunship patterns.’ Remarked Rantor with a chuckle while the rest of the group stayed quiet.

The gunship was much larger at close-up inspection than I imagined and definitely looked like a hybrid variant between a stormraven and a fire raptor. A huge stylised “I” was prominently displayed on the side of the gunship and I could just envision the folks excelling at kitbashing going to town to create this beautiful machine.

The pilot must have known we were coming as the rear hatch opened up without prompting and we entered the gunship through it. Cool, temperature-controlled air greeted us, and some of the retinue members sighed with relief. The interior of the gunship was more spacious than I imagined, probably due to the initial schematics which was meant for armoured space marines that could reach eight feet in height. They even had a washing closet installed inside the gunship.

It was then I remembered the Stormraven gunship of the space marines could serve as an orbital dropship, which probably meant this thing could break orbit and link up with any starships orbiting the planet, thus the presence of such a facility for long transits.

After settling down on my assigned seat, I was hit by a massive wave of mental fatigue, so I dutifully strapped on my safety harness even as I longed to doze off immediately. Just as I finished fastening the centrepiece of the harness that straps to my chest, I felt the sensation of solid material pressing against my skin. Puzzled, I dug beneath my collar and pulled out a necklace with an Aquila pendant attached to an exquisite piece of metallic string chain of unknown material.

The Aquila pendant itself was shaped into an old school symbol of Imperium, a stylised double-headed eagle with circular curve wings. Both the string chain and pendant had a glorious golden finishing that was just screaming “I am exorbitantly expensive” from its appearance. Curious but on the verge of dozing off, before I realised it[Analytica]was run on the pendant.

I am just so tired. I wanted to laugh out loud at myself for running the ability on an object… then a line of words appeared.

Imperial Authority Rosette, gene-locked to: Syrine.

My sight froze on the words. Didn’t Kryptorer mention something about needing my authority? So this is no mere jewellery? It looks gorgeous, I turned in my hand, marvelling at how it reflected all the lights from the interior of the gunship. While I was drowning in thoughts the gunship started moving. Soon the motion with the monotonous ambient sound inside the gunship combined with mental fatigue hit me like a rock and I felt myself drifting off while holding on to the pendant.

* * *

…

……

<++ ACCESSING… One (1) responding machine spirit within the vicinity. Connect? YES/NO ++>

<…Yes?>

<++ Connecting… connection established.++>
<++ Accessing machine spirit via ethernet link ++>
<++ Authority confirmed and accepted. We are ready to serve.++>
<++Welcome onboard Inquisitorial gunship ‘Flameraven’ #machineID ********-*******-*********. Glory to Omnissiah and him on Earth. We await your command, Authority. ++>

<… Command? Show me.>

<++/List show [1] Ship status [2] Weapon status [3] Auspex reading [4] Ship log [5] ..... ++>

<Weapons, hmmm. Show me your weapons.>

<++/List Weapons
++[1] Front-mounted twin multi melta … system functional++
++[2] Left sponson twin heavy bolter … system functional++
++[3] Right sponson twin heavy bolter … system functional++
++[4] Left underwing twin lascannon … system functional++
++[5] Right underwing twin lascannon … system functional++
++[6] Chaff-Flare launcher … system functional++ >

In my dreamy state I selected the twin multi melta listing, suddenly a video feed popped up in my vision and it was showing the front view of the gunship where the weapon was aiming. The moment I focused on the video feed, another mental prompt popped up.

<++Manual override?++>

Huh, why not? <Yes.>

Additional interfaces appeared on the video feed, showing the estimated projectile path and the guns were obeying my command pointing in the direction I wanted.

Huh, this definitely feels like a certain battlefield game I played.

Since all I could see were clouds on a dirty purple sky, I soon got bored and exited the weapon video feed. Next, I tried the auspex section. Immediately a 3-dimensional image of the gunship’s surroundings materialised inside my mind.

Wow, so high tech!Upon closer inspection, I could zoom in and out, pan the auspex reading around inside my head. When the view was zoomed out to the furthest setting, I could even see the details of terrain passing beneath us in real-time.

This is nice, but I am so tired.

…
……
………

<++Priority Alert: Auspex ERROR++>
<++Priority Alert: Weapons Locked-On Warning… ERROR++>
<++Priority Alert: Weapons Locked-On Warning… ERROR++>
<++Priority Alert: Weapons Locked-On Warning… ERROR++>
<++Priority Alert: Weapons Locked-On Warning… ERROR++>

* * *

Something was not right, I broke from my trance-like light sleep and found myself still strapped to the chair with the pendant in my hand on a flying gunship. The air was still nice and cold but a sense of unspeakable dread started to well up. While securing the pendant back inside my robe I looked around and noticed only Niandra was still up and alert sitting in a corner. Thaberus was nowhere to be seen but if I recall correctly he went forward to the co*ckpit the moment we boarded, whereas the trio of henchmen were fast asleep just across my seat.

After a moment of hesitation, I signalled for Niandra to come over, this was no time for subtlety. The assassin was slightly puzzled at first but quickly came to my side.

‘Yes?’ She asked with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

‘Is the name of this ship Flameraven?’

She slowly nodded, somehow her pretty cold face got colder. Being a quick one, she might have deduced something was up since no one had told me the name of the gunship until now. But the shock I received was no less than hers. That she all but confirmed the name of Flameraven meant the weird communion I had just now was not some fluke, a connection did happen between me and the ship.

If this is a lucid dream, it just keeps getting better and better.Putting up a tone as serious as I could, I delivered my warning. ‘In this case, I am afraid we might be under attack. There may be at least four weapon systems locking on to this ship and the ship’s auspex is probably being jammed.’

‘How do you know that?’

Right, how?Thinking quickly, I told her the story in a way people in this world could understand.

‘The machine spirit told me, it called itself Flameraven.’

To put a long story short, the basic understanding of technology had regressed so much in the grimdark universe the common explanation of machines having spirits, thus ‘machine spirit’ was widely accepted for how advanced machinery works around here, I was just going with the flow to put my point across.

Niandra looked straight at me for a moment before putting her hand on her ear to put a vox through, probably to Thaberus.

‘Sir? Our guest warns of imminent attacks on the Flameraven. Apparently, the machine spirit told her so.’ She then listened for a little while before suddenly started unfastening my harness with haste.

‘Niandra?’ Startled by her action, I inquired hastily.

She gave me this long look before answering, ‘we are going to the co*ckpit, the attack you mentioned is coming.’

Chapter 7: UNFRIENDLY SKY

Chapter Text

Niandra was leading the way towards the co*ckpit when the interior of the gunship dimmed down and its interior lighting changed to a tactical setting, switching light energy sources from the main circuit to independent units, and a low siren began to ring out as the air tensed up.

Following Niandra, I crossed a door hatch. Since this was a void capable ship meant for space marines, the co*ckpit compartment was spacious enough for four people.

There were two pilot seats at the front of the co*ckpit, inquisitor Thaberus occupied one of it without his signature fedora hat, beside him was a lady in a smart, blue imperial navy uniform with a pair of cool shades. A constant chime of warnings could be heard coming from the instruments and the panel lights were reflecting off nicely on the lady pilot’s shade.

‘We might be in trouble,’ Thaberus cut to the chase and looked at me. ‘Niandra mentioned the machine spirit was telling you something, can you elaborate?’

I quickly tried to recall the message log I saw, amazingly it came back to me with absolute clarity. ‘About sixty seconds ago we were hit by severe system jamming followed by four suspected readings of unknown weapon systems locking on to us.’ I quickly summarised.

‘Well, that certainly explained why our auspex had gone haywire.’ The pilot lady pointed to a radar looking screen, on it was a jumbled up looking mess of readings.

I got a really bad feeling about this…my feeling of unease rose exponentially as I threw out my next question. ‘Are we flying over hostile territory?’

‘No, we were going through the green zone held by the forces of the governor. We deliberately chose the safest flight path to our destination.’ Thaberus replied. Somehow, his answer only added to my feeling of foreboding.

We needed answers and fast! Thankfully, I got this cheat ability right here and... [Cogitatio Acceleratio]activated. The world slowed down again around me. First, I took a closer look at the panel of instruments and immediately gave up, too much to learn and not enough time. I then ran[Analytica]on the lady pilot and nothing came back suspicious, looks like my only weapon here was thinking.

Something about this scenario felt amiss, flying through a friendly area and getting the auspex system jammed before being attacked?Why would the enemy go through that trouble unless...

‘Are there any notable supposedly friendly anti-air assets situated around here that could take down Flameraven?’ I immediately asked. There was a slight pause before Thaberus realised the purpose of my question. The Flameraven was a huge gunship of Astartes usage origin in design, nothing short of some serious firepower could threaten it from the sky. That meant the enemy knew the only way to take us down was that we did not know what was coming.

‘Tahsya?’ He turned to the pilot, urgency in his voice.

‘Already on it, sir.’ The pilot lady accessed a touch screen data panel and quickly found the information she was looking for.

‘Records showed four operational Manticore anti-air platforms nearby, about 60 kilometres away.’Manticore?Those things with the dreaded storm eagle rockets?Just the mention of the term Manticore conjured up memories of mass devastation during my tabletop gaming days. These weapon platforms carry the notorious storm eagle rockets that can absolutely wreck their intended targets from an extreme distance and the anti-air version of it existed.

‘That meant…’ I said before my mind was suddenly flooded with all the relevant information about the weapon in question.

Manticore anti-air platforms were usually armed with the sky eagle rocket variants which were heat-seeking warheads that targeted enemy aircraft’s power signatures and engine exhaust. The standard rocket is divided into five sections: a fuse, the control and guidance equipment, the electrical unit, an explosive warhead and a propellant container for the two-stage solid-fuel rocket with a top speed of 1080 kph.

‘... by calculating the speed of the rockets and distance of roughly sixty kilometres, assuming the weapons were deployed at the time of jamming, the estimated time for rocket impact on Flameraven is about thirty seconds. Since each platform can have up to four rockets, up to sixteen rockets could be heading our way right now.’ I heard a calm and soothing female voice conveying the information before realising it was my own.

I looked up and saw Thaberus staring straight at me. As our eyes met, a split second later his face somehow turned grimmer than usual as the implications of my words hit him.

‘Throne’s blood,’ he whispered.

Niandra sprang into action, pushing me into a back seat on the wall of the co*ckpit and securing my harness with inhuman speed before doing the same for herself.

‘Be advised, we are going on a full evasive manoeuvre!’ Tahsya announced on the intercom. The onboard alarm went into full blare as the Flameraven picked up speed. I was pushed back onto my seat by the sudden increase of g-force.

What is with this endless amount of action film like events? This is still the same lucid dream session, right?I couldn’t help but think to myself, wondering if this must be some overcompensation for my decades of mundane life, but the warning blares in the co*ckpit and g-force felt real enough. I felt the gunship climbing as it continued to pick up speed.

‘Inbound rockets confirmed on auspex!’ Tahsya’s voice came through on the intercom. Apparently,the rockets were so close now even the jammed auspex could pick them up.

‘Hold on!’ Tahsya said before commanding the Flameraven to go from a climb to a steep banking dive, for a second there I felt gravity leaving me, then suddenly the g-force came back with a vengeance, pinning me to the back of my seat. Then a series of updates popped into my head.

<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>
<++Chaff-Flare discharged++>

...

Chaff and flare are countermeasures used by military aircraft to help evade missile attacks, but why was I receiving these messages?Am I still connected to the gunship’s machine spirit?Pinned and unable to do anything, I tried calling it.

<Flameraven?>

<++ Received and ready to serve, Authority. ++>

It replied. Seemed like I don’t need to be in a trance state to communicate with it.

<Show me real-time auspex readings.>

<++ Complying. ++>

A 3-dimensional image of the gunship surroundings materialised inside of my mind, and I could see the gunship was being chased by multiple flickering icons of incoming projectiles while dropping countermeasures. A second later, I understood that while Tahsya was doing a great job getting the rockets off our tail, there might be too many of them for us to have a clean getaway.

A huge explosion sounded from somewhere, coinciding with my auspex readout of a rocket detonating on one of the chaff. The whole gunship shook and amidst the chaos, I could even hear Herlindya’s cries of horror from way behind in the fuselage.

A feeling of unsuppressed terror started to assail me.Can you die in your dreams? They say if you die in your dream you might die in real life too, right? Wait, how could they know that if they died in their dreams and never woke up to tell anyone?

The Flameraven shook violently as more explosions were happening nearby, waking me from my silly stupor and this time I could even hear Amael and Rantor joining Herlindya with their outcry of cursings. I could have sworn I was screaming too but instead, a familiar message appeared in my vision.

[Regalis]Action override-
Wait, what? This message again? Whatever, I don’t want to die.

I put my attention back to the auspex readings again. To my utter horror, I soon came to the dreaded realisation that if the events continued to unfold as the auspex was showing, we would be cornered by the mass of rockets in the next eight seconds.

No no no no!I immediately activated my thought acceleration and studied the readings, staring at the impending death sentence. We were already doing a steep banking dive at maximum speed with full chaff-flare discharge and were out of cards to play.

Hold on, this gunship has two fully rotatable twin heavy bolter sponsons right? I closed my eyes and tried to communicate with the machine spirit of the gunship again while in the state of thought acceleration.

<Flameraven, calculate intercepting firing solution for incoming rockets with left and right twin heavy bolter sponsons>

Was that too complicated?

……

<++Unable to comply, auspex ERROR++>

That darn jamming again.

<Manual override, give me the control for both twin heavy bolter sponsons.>

<++Complying.++>

Two video feeds popped up inside my vision, directly showing me where the twin heavy bolters were aiming. Everything happened in a painfully slow manner while my thought acceleration was active except for those darned incoming rocket icons, they were fast approaching.

I immediately rotated the guns to point at the rough direction for intercepting fire while consulting the flickering auspex readings.

These… These inaccurate readings won’t work.I wanted to cry as despair was setting in, then it hit me; I had my own auspex, just that it might not have enough range. Still worth a try rather than being dead though.

I concentrated inwards on that feeling again and a moment later, activated[Auspex]as hard as I could, a massive sensor net burst forth from me towards the swarm of approaching rockets and registered their true locations to me in real-time.I got you now you bastards!

A brief moment after I consulted my auspex reading, a transcendent level of calculation took place inside my head in slow motion as the ideal path of intercepting fire appeared in my mind. Putting my faith in what was revealed to me, I adjusted both the left and right sponsons to the exact position and mentally triggered the firing mechanism.

Four streams of mass reactive rounds burst forth from Flameraven, hitting some of the incoming rockets at the last second and the resulting chain explosions pushed the gunship just enough to escape the massive impact zone from the rockets’ crossfire. Even protected by the solid hull of the gunship I felt the huge shockwave.

The massive gunship groaned, spun and tumbled uncontrollably for a while in the air before the advanced avionics stabilised itself, the pandemonium ended abruptly and we continued on our journey as if nothing ever happened. I gasped and looked around, confirming we were all still alive as evident from the screaming still coming from the passenger section.

<Flameraven, thank you!>I sent.

<++Unknown command, unable to comply.++> it sent back.

I wanted to laugh out loud, only to be stopped by a message appearing in my vision:[Regalis]Action override-

Utterly flustered, I resigned myself to the fate of sitting quietly on my chair.We continued our flight in silence until Tahsya spoke up. ‘It seems like Flameraven took out a few rockets with the heavy bolters at the very last second. But this is weird, I had been trying to engage the ballistic interception protocol but it would not boot up probably due to the heavy jamming, and here the system records indicate those guns were on manual control at the moment it fired.’

I might as well come clean again before incurring any unwanted misunderstandings in the future, so I raised my hand like a dutiful citizen and declared. ‘It was me, Flameraven didn’t want to die either so we cooperated to get out of that tight spot.’

Everyone in the co*ckpit turned and looked at me. ‘Just who are you again, Lady Syrine?’ Thaberus finally asked. Seemed like the inquisitor was showing me some respect.

But… Lady? Lady, lady, lady... it was so cringy being called that my skin started to crawl. My male soul cried out in protest.

‘I… don’t remember but please, just call me Syrine.’ Thaberus did not reply and his face was unreadable. ‘I insist on it,’ I said, surprising even myself.

The rest of the short trip was uneventful other than the trio at the back of the gunship finally crammed into the co*ckpit asking what just happened. By then I had closed my eyes and tried to get some rest but found it impossible to sleep again. It continued to be so right up until we reached our destination to meet the astropath.

Chapter 8: THE ASTROPATH

Chapter Text

‘Approaching landing pad.’ Tahsya’s voice, which was dripping with the professionalism of a military pilot, broke the serenity inside the gunship’s co*ckpit.

‘Where are we?’ I asked absentmindedly.

‘Why not try asking your machine spirit friend?’ Niandra replied flatly from beside me. That caught me by surprise on two fronts. First, this was the first time the assassin had actively talked to me. Second,is this supposed to be a test or friendly banter?

I shot her a side glance before trying my luck checking the active flight log with the machine spirit. There mixed within all the updates was the Identification, Friend or Foe exchanges with air traffic control. After a brief moment, it concluded we were friendly and held off multiple anti-air turrets from shooting us just minutes ago. I checked the details on the IFF exchanges and read the digital signature of the air traffic control.

‘Hmm… Fortress Endurance Sigma?’ I read it out loud.

‘By the throne, you really can speak to the machine spirit!’ gasped Tahsya while the rest of the crew looked at me like witnessing a ghost.

‘Not a word of this to the outside!’ Thaberus dropped his warning, thus everyone refrained from further commenting and we finally got to see the last astropath on the planet.

What surprised me more about the astropath was not the astropath himself. I’ve read about them as a hobbyist and had this mental image of what a stereotypical astropath looks like: blind, pale skin, balding hair, wielding a staff with a stylized eye on it, wearing a stylish eyeshade, and probably has a few random wires sticking out of their head.

Arradus Rein the astropath was all that but with some crucial missing details from the lore I read. He also enjoyed a level of security, health care and comfortable living standards rivalling that of the planetary governor.

The layers of security checkpoints I went through reminded me of what was depicted in some of the superhero movies on how they kept really dangerous supervillains on lockdown. We passed through multiple blast doors and checkpoints manned by stormtroopers with hot-shot lasguns ready, and even heavier guns like heavy bolters and plasma cannons mounted on gun-servitors were ever-present on all strategic locations in the building.

It was clear they were not taking any chances on the security. As usual, Thaberus’ inquisitorial rosette opened all doors and we made a steady pace towards the innermost sanctum.

In a way it made sense. To put it bluntly, even the planetary governor can be easily replaced in leadership capacity if the unthinkable happens, but there was no immediate replacement for an astropath should Arradus be slain by the enemy. With the scheduled starship arrival on indefinite delay, he was literally the last link between the planet and the wider Imperium, the VVIP of the planet.

It was no exaggeration to say his very wellbeing affected the fate of the billions of souls residing here, hence the around-the-clock security measures and extreme precautions taken on his health management. Arradus for his part had an air of awkwardness about him like he did not know whether to stand or sit in our presence.

Then again it was in no way mundane for an Ordo Hereticus inquisitor in full battle gear, armoured fedora hat with a greatcoat, inferno pistol on the belt and more to come visit you in your quarters.

It was, however, plain for me to see that Arradus and Thaberus were acquainted. As expected of an inquisitor worthy of his salt, Thaberus had apparently double-checked the integrity of the sole surviving astropath on the planet.

‘Arradus, this is Syrine.’ As always Thaberus cut straight to the point and I was glad he did remember to cut off the lady title when addressing me. ‘Work with her to see if you can establish contact with any nearby imperial world and send out a message requesting reinforcements citing renegade Astartes.’ Then Thaberus turned to me. ‘Please see to it no harm comes to him in the process, his… talent is sorely needed in this challenging time.’

Finally, he gathered his retinue. ‘Niandra, you stay here with them. The rest of you, with me.’ Niandra turned her head but before she could say a word Thaberus made his point. ‘Both of them are, as of now, of absolute strategic value for this world.’

‘Surely you are as indispensable?’ I asked.

‘No, I am not.’ He answered matter-of-factly. ‘If I am taken out of the equation, either Amael or Niandra will take over command and proceed with a more defensive approach on what to do next.’

I looked at him, finding it interesting that an individual can nonchalantly mention the possibility of self-demise, but he totally ignored my gaze.

‘Inquisitor, you are leaving?’ Arradus asked.

‘Yes, Mister Rein. Unfortunately, heretics tend not to purge themselves. May the Emperor guide you on your work,’ Thaberus replied. With that said he left the room, his retinue fell in behind him to their undoubtedly bloody inquisitorial business, their boots echoing down the hallway foreshadowing the violence to come. Niandra saw them off and then melted into the shadows.

That left me and Arradus. I ran[Analytica]on the astropath. His readings came back as expected.

Name: Arradus Rein, human, psyker, astropath.

‘Hello.’ I said, greeting the psyker.

‘That ... was such an unusual way of greeting, you aren’t from around here are you?’Oops, guess I did it by doing greetings in English instead of Low Gothic. Hello in English just felt so natural after decades of usage, it completely slipped through my lips.

‘You are a sharp one, astropath.’ I jested in my awkward attempt to cover my slip up.

‘Please, Lady Syrine, just call me by my name.’ He actually looked kind of embarrassed. But… he called me that and it hit me hard. If there was one thing I might never get used to it would be being called a lady.

‘Fine.’ I said, ‘in return, please drop the lady when addressing me in private, let us treat each other as peers.’

He paused slightly before asking, ‘so how do we go about this? Pardon me but I am at a loss on what is going on around here.’

I thought for a moment and decided to just get straight into it. ‘Please brief me on how you do your work and we will see what we can do from there.’

Everything considered we went off with a good start. Arradus began his lengthy crash course with me on the art of Astro-telepathy while I paid full attention to him with ceaseless usage of[Cogitatio Acceleratio]between his lectures.

With this incredible body that housed my amazingly sharp mind it felt like cheating; the moment he finished making a statement and describing a concept I would speed up my thought process with[Cogitatio Acceleratio], conjured mental notes and diagram to fully grasp whatever he said, pausing the process to ask important questions, rinsing and repeating until satisfied.

After about two hours or so, I was beginning to have a good understanding of the whole process, though it must be mentioned with thought acceleration constantly in effect. From my point of view, it felt like I had been working on it for a full day.

As for Arradus, he seemed to be getting more animated as the lecture went on, my crucial questions only added to his enthusiastic energy as the session dragged on. He must have found lecturing to be a very refreshing experience as evidently there was little to no chance to discuss his work if ever in his line of service.

Even with all that enthusiasm pushing him I could see Arradus was reaching his limits, so after telling him to take a break and politely declining his invitation for a quick dinner, I continued the work alone. For unknown reasons hunger and thirst never seemed to cross my mind, I wondered about it for a moment before deciding to leave it at that, there were just too many unknowns in this new existence.

With the freshly learned techniques, I went into a meditative state, re-running the lessons with thought acceleration in the back of my head for the final wrap up. The process continued until a feeling of sufficient understanding hit my mind and I knew it was time for a small trial run of what I have learned.

This feels so trippy. I felt my senses expand into the next realm. The world went weird for a brief moment as I attempted to send out a psychic message. +Hello?+

Arradus who was having his belated dinner nearby jolted and apparently tipped over his drink on the dining table. I could hear the mess he was creating across the hallway.

+Was... was that you? Lady Syrine?+ He sent back.

+Astropath, what did we just agree on?+ I returned. More sounds could be heard from across the hallway, the type of sound eating utensils made when dropped to the marble floor.

A slight pause later. +Could you please turn it down a little? The intensity you are sending the message hurt my head.+

I gasped at the reply, after focusing on adjusting thought intensity as best I could by making it as light as possible and sent another message. +Sorry, how is it now?+

+Much better, thank you...+

Suddenly I felt his presence had a dramatic change, the best way to describe it was a great sense of fear started to flood from his direction across the hallway.

Having just survived multiple attacks earlier in the day my sense of alarm was cranked up to the maximum level in an instance. Standing up, my[Cogitatio Acceleratio]kicked in as I activated[Auspex]for an instant mind sweep around the area. In an almost painful slowness within my accelerated mind, my surroundings were revealed to me as information dripped in pace with my sensor net as it expanded outwards.

There were 3 maids, 2 medics, 2 servitors, 18 armed guards with hot-shot lasguns and 12 gun servitors with heavy bolters within 100 meters outside his living quarters. Also in the detection net were dozens of active security cameras, none inside Arradus’ living space. Niandra was in another nearby room checking on security details. Arradus had a laspistol on him, a very typical setup. Glaringly missing was any kind of threat that would have spooked Arradus.

+Arradus?+ I asked, being very careful with my intensity this time. Another slight pause later he answered.

+Wha...+ He was practically trembling on his psychic message, +WHAT ARE YOU?!+

+Arradus, what are you even talking about?+ Concerned and confused, I asked while walking towards the astropath. What I saw stopped me in my tracks, Arradus had his pistol drawn and the gun was pointing in my direction, I could see my own reflection on the stylish eyeshade that covered his blind eyes. The blatant hostility that was emanating from him was more of a mixture of fear than intent to kill, he was simply terrified.

‘Arradus, what is wrong?’

‘Stop right there, don’t get any closer!’ He aimed his pistol in a threatening manner, the intensity of his emotion made me wince. ‘How did you do that when you are not even a psyker? Are you even human?’ He demanded, his voice was starting to break due to the amount of duress he was experiencing.

Caught by this unexpected turn of events, I was totally dumbstruck by his revelation.

Chapter 9: PSYKANA ACTIVA

Chapter Text

From the lore material I knew, psykers in this universe can easily distinguish their kin apart from the mundane masses with their psychic senses. Arradus had made it plain with his actions that I did not register as a psyker to his senses.

Unfortunately, that could not explain my abilities nor my success in communicating with him via psychic means. It had spooked him so much he was prepared to shoot me with his laspistol. Being a civilian all my life I was at a loss of what to do in this tense situation.

Just as things were about to turn from bad to worse, Niandra appeared out of nowhere and took control of the situation. The imperial assassin disarmed Arradus in the blink of an eye and sat him down back on his dining chair, her frigid face had the slightest hint of exasperation as she was eyeing me the whole time while performing the incredible feat with a flawless motion. I could read her mind without even trying. In modern layman terms, it would be the equivalent of asking “What the hell are you doing? You newb!”.

‘Master Rein.’ Niandra calmly addressed the distraught astropath, ‘do not be alarmed, I can assure you Syrine is not an enemy of the Throne.’ After hearing those words Arradus took his senses off me and turned to Niandra to validate how much he can trust her on that statement. It was at this moment someone opened the main door.

A squad of stormtroopers stepped in, a grizzled man leading at the front as the sound of their military boots echoed in the living quarter. The squad’s outfit and wardrobe was a match from the old kasrkin box when one used to be able to get a squad of ten metal miniatures in the package, carapace armour drabbed over body glove and hot-shot lasguns at the ready.

The sergeant was a man who had the look of special forces written all over him, his squarish jaw and the way he walked simply screamed elite militarism. Repeating one of the biggest cliches of the grimdark universe, the man was the only one in the squad who was not wearing a helmet.

‘Is everything all right?’ the sergeant asked, his tone of voice firm and respectful but unwavering. He was the only one who was not holding a weapon though his right hand hovered just above the hot-shot laspistol holstered on his belt, the rest of the stormtroopers fanned out behind him in well trained tactical spacing.

‘Master Rein, please explain the misunderstanding,’ Niandra said while stepping back from the astropath in her attempt to de-escalate the situation. Though from my understanding of her capabilities, a distance of a few meters might as well be face to face contact for the imperial assassin. Arradus started talking with the sergeant but my mind was fast drifting with the latest revelation.

How was it possible I didn't register as a psyker from the astropath’s point of view? All the abilities I used seemed psychic in nature. Dumbfounded, I raised my left palm and looked into it and found I couldn't help myself from marvelling at the flawless porcelain skin. Just as I was thinking of what I won’t do to get a girlfriend with such fine skin in my previous life, an idea crept into my head...wait, can I analyse myself?

The sudden realisation of such a potential struck me like lightning, with a staggering mind, I used [Analytica]on myself. The world seemed to freeze for a while before words started forming in my vision.Name: Syrine, primarch minoris, psyker-passive, abnormal existence. Looking at the words and their implication I felt like my body wanted to tremble, except it could not. As if rejecting an order from a lower authority this body refused to convulse. The sensation of such incongruity triggered my instinct to vomit but again, the action did not happen.

Primarch minoris!?My mind went wild on that revelation. The primarchs were genetically engineered transhuman "sons" of the Emperor of Mankind, they are a huge part of the lore of the grimdark universe. 20 were known to be created, these beings were intended to be the immortal and superhuman generals who commanded the space marine legions for Emperor’s Great Crusade to reunite the scattered Human race beneath his leadership.

A memory surfaced into my mind as I struggled to organise my thoughts, it was from that shocking moment when sister Alicya suddenly knelt in front of me, ‘You must be the prophesied true daughter of the Emperor that He on Holy Terra has sent to lead us...’ the palatine had said,so Syrine was really a true bonafide daughter of the fricking Emperor level of existence?

But there was never any mention of any primarch minoris in the lore I knew, let alone a female primarch who was normal human size in stature. Since most primarchs were basically super-transhuman beings towering over the “normal” transhuman space marines averaging seven feet in height, that would render her looking like a doll in front of her brothers.

Recalling all the information I had on the subject matter, the only loyalist primarch that was still alive, active and kicking at the end of the 41st millennium in the grimdark universe was none other than Roboute Guilliman of the Ultramarines, affectionately known in my gaming circle with funny nicknames such as Girly Man or Ultra Papa Smurf, the latter being a reference of his legion heraldry colour being an unfortunate match with a bunch of tiny blue creatures from a happier universe.

Guilliman himself had actually been kept in a stasis field for 10,000 years after being fatally wounded in a battle and was recently resurrected to continue the plot, but that was a long story too convoluted to be told here.

That said, having faced Guilliman himself multiple times on the tabletop game myself one thing was very obvious to me, written clearly on the primarch’s datasheet was “MONSTER”. That would indirectly mean whatever this primarch minoris status entailed, I might not even come close to being a human despite this ideal female appearance on the outside.

If this world was indeed the same grimdark universe that I knew well, it would be an understatement to say I was in a whole world of dire troubles. Syrine’s status as a primarch minoris should be an imperial state secret of the highest order and any wrong move going forward might seal my own worse than death scenario that comes in thousands of different flavours available here.

The world seemed to spin as I pondered on my predicament and my vision rested upon the second line of my enquiry result:psyker-passive. As if answering my unspoken question, a new line of words popped up into my vision.

[Activate Psykana Activa? YES / NO]

With my limited knowledge of Latin, this seemed to roughly translate to active psyker mode. What would happen if I went active? What about the perils of the warp? Apart of me wanted to recoil just by thinking what could go wrong but… I was really curious and since all my abilities activation thus far seemed to serve me well I guess there was only one way to find out.

It was then I noticed the stormtroopers finally left, it seemed like Arradus got that matter sorted. No time better than now,this is still a dream, right?I held my breath and selected yes from the prompt.

At first, nothing happened. Then, the surroundings went weird like some hidden locks were switched off and an unworldly quality took over. I felt my senses grow and my… “feel of view” for the lack of proper words extended. It felt paradoxical like being very trippy while maintaining your mental clarity at the same time, the sense of connection to the world kept expanding and a feeling of many unseen windows were opened beyond the senses. My mind struggled with these new sensations and there then I realised there was this strong resonance nearby, so very close.

Like a submarine that just turned on its active sonar and received a huge ping reading, I turned to the source of resonance and saw it was Arradus. He was facing me with his jaw dropped. The astropath’s existence took on an extra-dimensional quality from my current point of view, rendering him more “real” than the surroundings, and I could easily pinpoint his exact position even with my eyes closed.So this is how psykers could tell each other apart, there is no hiding from this.

Indescribable energy swirled around and inside me, it was gaining strength and seemed to obey my will, at least for now. Mindful of all the horror stories about the warp, I tried my best to keep it under tight control. When I finally got it stabilised, Arradus was still in his stupor gaping at me. ‘That light…’ he murmured.

‘Light?’ I asked. No reply.

Was he looking at me or behind me? While I understood Arradus was technically blind I now knew his psychic sense more than made up for his sight so I turned around and saw what he meant. Even when visually blocked by many layers of walls a huge psychic beam could be “seen” shining from beyond the horizon shooting into the heavens, its psychic brightness transcending the material plane when one was psychically attuned.

The huge silvery golden beam was so beautiful and for some unknown reasons felt familiar.Wait, is that the massive activated psychic beacon they were all talking about?Instinctively I raised my hand trying to touch and feel it, but that was silly since it was so, so far away. Just as I was about to laugh at my own silliness I felt an odd sensation of a connection established with the psychic light.

Huh?Not knowing what just happened and with my hand still raised, I slowly turned my palm. Responding to my action, the massive pillar of psychic light actually changed its intensity.

Oi oi oi this is bad right? What have I done?

Panicking, I adjusted the pillar of light back to its original intensity as best I could and tried to sever the weird connection. Luckily it seemed like mental intent was all it took to get things to work with the psychic stuff, I felt the connection disappeared.

I… I hope no one saw that. Wait, Arradus is here. Crap.

Not knowing what to do, I turned to face the astropath. Only to see him on his knees calling to the Emperor and apologising to me in a semi-coherent flurry of speech. Dumbfounded again, I stood still as Arradus pressed his forehead down touching the floor, with tears flowing down cheeks as he begged for forgiveness in his whimpering voice.

Eagerly wanting to avoid the stormtroopers barging in again I turned to Niandra for help, the assassin was there looking at me with a complex expression but she got the hint. She moved in and put her hand on his back.

‘Master Rein. No one is going to hurt you as long as I am here. As I said, Syrine is not an enemy nor will she do anything to you.’ Her cold, authoritative voice and powerful presence did the trick and Arradus calmed down a lot after that.

Maybe my psychic active mode has something to do with his hysteria?Thinking about that I tried deactivating[Psykana Activa],the power responded to my will and shut itself off. The world went back to normal, which was a huge relief.

Looking at the sheer absurdity surrounding me, suddenly I had an epiphany. That was it!Though very rare, this must be one of the extended lucid dream sessions I had read before on the internet. Thinking back, ever since I started role-playing as Syrine, I never had any food nor drinks and had never gone to the toilet.Dream theory confirmed!Now that this was understood, I just had to let this session ran its course and get back to my life.

Finally feeling relieved, I knelt to face the weeping astropath at eye level. While he did look kind of pathetic, thinking back on my own experience so far, if it was not for [Regalis]I might have embarrassed myself with openly screaming and weeping a few times just today alone.

So, I did my best to join Niandra in comforting him, a good thing my current voice was so calm and soothing. ‘Arradus, please. To tell you the truth, I recently just lost most of my memories and need your help. This planet and its people need your help too. Let’s work together.’ He stopped weeping but remained silent.

Does he still need an extra push for encouragement? He was calling to the Emperor, right? Sigh, people of this world.I lamented internally and pushed forth with my final sales pitch. ‘Come on, astropath, if not for this world, for the Emperor.’

‘Yes.’ He finally responded by turning to me, suddenly the frail astropath seemed invigorated with a new lease of purpose and he said his next statement with a calm conviction.

‘For the Emperor.’

Chapter 10: THE LIGHT

Chapter Text

Arradus Rein was not a particularly gifted astropath. The few colleagues he had always seemed to outshine him both in talents and interpersonal relationships, resulting in him being mostly assigned to be the backup of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica chamber.

Ironically, that might be the very reason he was spared from assassination. Unlike his unfortunate colleagues who were at their workstation, Arradus was at his quarters when unknown assailants stormed the Telepathica chamber. An old reinforced panic room saved his life and it took an inquisitor to convince him to come out from the hideout.

Despite being mediocre in raw talent, Arradus was not a foolish man. Even after being placed in a maximum-security arrangement, a part of him was convinced he already was a dead man walking. The assassination of astropaths was a clear attempt to cut off the planet’s connection to the wider Imperium and as the old saying goes, disruption of communication can only mean one thing - a pending invasion.

Further adding to his sense of ominous impending doom, Arradus was unable to contact any other Imperial world for reinforcements for reasons unknown. By then the lone astropath had expected the worst. Any moment now, he believed, hostile fleets bearing legions of the lost and damned would appear over a blackened sky to rain death and despair.

Over the years of long service, he had caught glimpses of brief reports and tales to know such possibilities were real. Being the sole astropath on the planet made him a marked individual and even with all the securities provided he felt his days were numbered.

Then the strangest thing happened, half a day ago a massive psychic light shot up over the horizon. Arradus knew that non-psykers could not see it, but to him, it was as if a new sun had risen. He should have been more afraid but to his amazement, the light felt familiar to him, like meeting an old friend again but being unable to recall their name. By this time he had already given up on contacting other imperial worlds and was just happy to stare into the psychic light over the horizon to escape from his troubles.

That huge silver-coloured pillar of light with a hint of gold made him feel peaceful and there was a strange sense of contentment knowing he witnessed this beautiful light before his inevitable demise.

Arradus was in such a mindset when Thaberus, the inquisitor who saved his life, visited with two others. One was a female agent who he recognised to never mess with, the other female was a peculiar newcomer who was introduced as Syrine. The inquisitor soon left, dropping vague instructions before he did so.

Syrine was soon asking questions about his telepathic craft, something a sanctioned astropath would never willingly share with any unfamiliar individuals, but at this point, Arradus couldn't care less. Following the few recent unusual events, all sense of normality had gone out of the window for him.

That said, the teaching experience was refreshing since he was able to share his craft freely with a stranger for the first time. The truth was he had no idea of what was going on anymore. Syrine was not a psyker, he would know as psykers could easily tell one another apart from the rest of the mundane population. With that understanding, the futility of this exercise only served to further mystify him as this was akin to teaching a jellyfish to run, but he enjoyed her company.

Even as a blind psyker Arradus could tell Syrine was a special individual, her presence had a soothing effect on him and her voice was pleasing. On top of that she seemed very intelligent, the questions she asked from time to time cut right at critical points with a hint of a master’s level of understanding.

In the short time they spent together his appreciation for her intellect went up a few notches, he imagined her to be beautiful but regretted not being able to see with his vision to verify that hunch.

Then the lessons were halted for a meal as his hunger overcame his newfound thrill of teaching. Syrine politely declined his invitation to join him so he went for it alone. The servers came with his food, everything was double-checked for poisons and toxins before he sat down to satisfy his hunger.

Halfway through his meal, another unexpected event happened.

+Hello?+ Syrine’s voice came through via telepathic means, the strength and intensity of it startled him.

+Was... was that you? Lady Syrine?+ He sent back. Instantly he got a reply, this time the psychic communication came with overwhelming strength. It was akin to receiving a voice reply from a laud hailer while standing right next to it, the massive impact made Arradus drop his eating utensils.

Flinching, Arradus quickly shot back another communication asking Syrine to tone down the intensity of her message. Her next reply was an apology and this time the “volume” was just right. What amazing raw talents his new student possessed, Arradus thought, only a few hours after his lessons and she mastered telepathic communication. Just as he was beginning to feel proud of his teachings only then he remembered: Syrine was not a psyker.

That realization shattered the serenity Arradus enjoyed that day, he felt like being rudely awakened from a sweet dream with haunting death cries of his former colleagues echoing inside his mind. Alarming questions raced one another for his attention as he instinctively took out his laspistol.

What sorcery is this?Is Syrine an agent of the enemy? Is she a heretic that infiltrated this far to replace him from the inside? How can someone who is not a psyker send telepathic messages? His mind searched frantically and found no solid answers, and try as he might, he could not ignore the dark whispers of forbidden tales of daemons nagging at the innermost corners of his mind.

It was at this point Arradus realised deep down, despite all the pessimism he really did not want to die. By the time Syrine came to check him up he went into a full-blown panic and was ready to discharge his weapon despite his instincts screaming at him that it wouldn't do anything to his target.

Then the female agent Niandra validated his guess of her skill by swiftly disarming him in a split second. To his surprise, she vouched for Syrine’s integrity. The commotion caused the stormtroopers who were in charge of his security to barge in. Even in a daze, Arradus realised he would have been dead or incapacitated by now if either Niandra or Syrine had ulterior motives, so he cooperated and convinced the security to leave.

As the stormtroopers left, Arradus was collecting his thoughts as he turned to his guests and what he sensed made him freeze. Syrine, once a mundane human presence in his psychic sense, began to change. First, she was suddenly registered as a psyker to his senses, making Arradus wonder if he had gone senile. Then, to his utter bewilderment, he could feel her power growing rapidly.

One moment, the level of raw power she exuded reminded him of his ancient mentor, then that quickly changed as she surpassed that and reached the power level of a primaris psyker he met years ago, but that too was surpassed and her power just kept rising.

With his jaw dropped, Arradus witnessed Syrine's transformation from being psychically inert to an overwhelming presence right before him. He felt the raw power difference between them and instantly understood that she could literally crush him like a bug if that level of psychic might was ever directed at him with intent to kill.

Then, like a miracle, Arradus could “see” Syrine despite being blind. Her psychic presence was so intense that the powerful resonance between them made her appearance solidify to his psychic senses. Appearing before him was a breathtakingly beautiful human female wearing a simple white robe. Arm-length straight platinum hair flowed gently over her petite shoulders.

The most striking feature she had were her large almond-shaped eyes, grey-coloured irises with a tint of golden psychic glow were looking straight at him. Arradus could feel the unfathomable power that lay behind them, her gaze seemed to pierce through him but carried no malevolence. Looking closer, he noticed Syrine was surrounded by a familiar faint golden light. ‘That light…’ he murmured.

‘Light?’ She echoed his statement.

Then, as if just noticing the huge psychic pillar behind her that was shining from beyond the horizon, she turned and looked at it. Wordlessly, she raised a hand and then slowly began turning it around by her wrist. Responding to her action, the psychic light changed its intensity. Watching the unbelievable scene unfold, Arradus finally understood the truth - Syrine was the link for that huge psychic beacon, she was the master of that light.

Before he realised it, Arradus had dropped to his knees, hot streams of tears flowed uncontrollably down his cheek.

‘Emperor preserve us, who… who are you?’ His shaken voice was soft but clear in the quiet room. Such power, Arradus thought, Syrine radiated so much power it reminded him of the legends he had heard of daemons and saints about their otherworldly presence.

Then to his utter horror, he recalled pointing a weapon at the individual before him. ‘My... my sincerest deepest apologies, I … I didn’t know..’ Arradus pressed himself further down, his forehead touching the floor, his tears flowing down to the floor and his mind a panicking mess.

Following the peculiar pattern that day, Arradus could not for his life understand what was going on but one thing he knew for certain, whoever Syrine was, taking his life was but a trivial matter for her.

However, not only that did not happen, she instead knelt to his level to talk to him, asking for his assistance and reminding him of his duty to the Emperor while ignoring his transgressions. That deeply moved Arradus, he had personally known people who had lost their lives with much lesser acts of disrespect towards powerful individuals, let alone pointing a weapon and dropping accusations at such a figure.

Syrine had spared him, he was convinced of that fact. And who was he to begin with? A mediocre astropath who had given up on his duties and lost his faith in the Emperor. Such heretical thought, such sin. Yes, he will atone for his sins and his shameful actions later, now was not the time for self-pity.

Duty calls and Arradus the astropath will answer it. He turned to Syrine, astonished to find her presence had reverted back to a non-psyker again, but this time he knew better, when he probed hard enough he could still just barely feel a hint of that unfathomable might beneath her benevolent aura. The fact that such a powerful figure was in front of him was proof enough that the God-Emperor had yet to give up on this world, Arradus was sure of it.

Now there was hope in his world, and that extended to this world as well. Steeling his resolve, Arradus replied the only way he could.

‘Yes.’ he said, affirming himself to his duties with a level of resolve he had never felt in his entire life.

‘For the Emperor.’

Chapter 11: INTERMISSION

Chapter Text

Thaberus was in a grim mood, grimmer than usual. Getting himself and people under his responsibility ambushed was rare for him, let alone twice in a day.

Thaberus Thorn was an in-the-field type of inquisitor without being a psyker himself, and while it was true the ability to use psychic powers was never a mandatory requirement and the vast majority of inquisitors have no affinity for the warp, its sheer advantage was glaringly apparent.

A check on the list of who-is-who of famously celebrated inquisitors amongst the imperial elites and one could quickly deduce almost all of them were psykers. From the High Protector of the Formosa Sector Torquemada Coteaz, the philosophical Gideon Ravenor and even the questionable Gregor Eisenhorn, all were known for their psychic prowess. In light of that Thaberus had worked extremely hard to get to where he was and paid extra diligence to compensate for that "disadvantage".

That said, what happened a few days ago had Thaberus silently grateful for being a non-psyker for the first time. Something massive was happening in the warp and all the psykers in his warband were experiencing difficulties, citing constant nightmares and constantly being affected by feelings of utter dread. The conditions became so bad the most severely affected individuals had to be put in a medically induced coma to prevent cases of self-harm.

And thus Thaberus had been operating without his usual contingent of psychic aides in his fieldworks recently. Would that have helped in not getting ambushed? He was not sure and that realisation only served to sour his mood further.

'Sir, we are done here.' Amael's voice woke him from his thoughts. Thaberus turned to his interrogator, silently asking the latter to proceed. Amael continued his report, 'An order of unknown origin came through, authorising the manticores to attack us but the trails might lead to nowhere, there has to be a collaborator from the inside.'

Well, that was expected, the inquisitor sighed internally, his mind lamenting at these predictable outcomes. After decades of working in the field, most things became tiresomely predictable, except for that lady. Thaberus found his mind turning at thinking about Syrine and the fact that he could not get a proper read on her.

One moment she was saying she lost her memory and had an almost civilian like bearing, the next thing he knew she saved him and his retinue without even flinching at how close they were at death's door. He had secretly observed her expression and breathing aboard the Flameraven and concluded she never for a second seemed worried during the tense moments. Syrine was merely sitting on her chair, eyes closed with a peaceful expression when the heavy bolters were discharged at the exact moment it needed to get them out of that deadly predicament.

What did that arch dominus call her again? Omnissian princess?Thaberus pondered on these questions and found no satisfying answers. At this point, he could not even be sure if the assassination attempts were aiming at him or her.

It was at this time he received a coded message from Niandra, he took a quick glimpse and was stunned by what he read. Amael was quick to notice his master's reaction and politely inquired. 'Sir?'

Thaberus did a quick mental check on the chances of their conversation being compromised before deciding it was safe enough to answer his interrogator. 'Syrine and Arradus have made contact with other imperial worlds.'

Amael gasped upon hearing the news. While it was technically true Arradus Rein was the last known astropath on the planet, Thaberus' own warband had another skilful astropath who was on his ship orbiting the planet, and the psyker had been trying for days without result.

'Sir, that is good news! Are reinforcements coming?' Amael could not contain himself.

'I am afraid not,' replied Thaberus. 'They could only contact planets within the subsector, these were of no use to us in terms of reinforcements. Something huge must be going on out there.'

'So we are back to square one,' sighed Amael.

'I thought she was just coming along to show us her sincerity and get the arch dominus to work with us. To think she actually was able to make contact with other planets,' said Thaberus before asking, 'what is your reading on her?'

Amael looked at his master, his mouth half opened but nothing came out for a while, when he was just about to speak Thaberus cut him off halfway, 'other than appearance.'

That kept Amael's mouth open for a little longer before he sighed again and answered. 'I don't know, without witnessing what she did, she just… felt like a civilian.'

'So… a psychic civilian, who can pierce the veil of warp when our astropath has failed and she could even talk to machine spirits while keeping a pet arch dominus?' Thaberus teased.

'Might be a transhuman too while we are at it,' laughed Amael.

'And you said that because....?'

'Just look at her, she has been with us for hours and never once showed any signs of physical exhaustion nor did she ever ask for any nourishments.'

'So you were watching.'

'Of course.'

'Is she like Niandra then?'

Amael thought for a while before answering, '... maybe, and probably more dangerous.'

'Why?'

'If I met her on the street without knowing better, she would probably just come across as just being breathtakingly pretty. Whereas for Nian, well you can always tell she is dangerous.'

'So you can't get a proper read on her too,' remarked Thaberus.

'Sir,' Amael whispered, 'with all due respect, hypothetically speaking if you were to issue a kill order to Nian now… who do you think will come out alive?'

'Hmmm…' Thaberus contemplated for a while before deciding to drop the difficult subject and asked another question, 'you said the trails might lead nowhere, elaborate.'

'They left so many digital trails behind that most are probably just feints, we have neither the resources nor the time to pursue all of them. I have shown the preliminary findings to our backend team, they said it might take weeks to sort it out. Unless...'

'Unless we somehow have a whole starship's worth of advanced cogitators and a capable mind to wield that at our disposal? I have just the contact here. Since that attack almost took her out, I imagine this would provide sufficient motivation for our new Adeptus Mechanicus acquaintance to expedite his efforts.' said Thaberus, a hint of a smile appearing on his stern visage.

'Compile all the data you found together with Flameraven's flight log of the incident, it is time to contact the arch dominus for that luggage arrangement we promised.' The inquisitor ordered.

* * *

Sometime later, inside a fortified command bunker somewhere near the frontline. A high-level strategic discussion was interrupted by a statement uttered by a certain high-ranking individual attending the meeting.

'Deplorable!'

A massive hooded and hunched figure snarled as he struck the ground with the end knob of his giant Omnissian axe, the impact created a deafening clang and the primary holographic projector inside the meeting chamber flickered in protest. The figure's sudden outburst put the meeting proceeding to a grinding halt as all eyes were on him, not knowing what to expect next.

Being more machine than man, senior members of the Adeptus Mechanicus were known for their almost inhuman dispassionate disposition throughout the Imperium. The fact that such a high ranking representative of the order even broke basic etiquette to express his outrage had everyone at the high-level meeting stunned silent.

Sitting around a huge table with a holographic projector in the centre were some of the most powerful individuals on the planet. Present on one side was the Planetary Governor, Lord General and generals of the planetary defence force, sitting across them in their power armour was the Canoness and Palatines of the Adepta Sororitas.

It was Canoness Diadinah who broke the awkward silence. 'Esteemed Dominus, what was that about?' The words from the supreme leader of Adepta Sororitas order on the planet seemed to pull the spaced-out dominus back to the meeting as the latter quickly apologised.

'Pardon me,' Kryptorer bowed, 'I must ask for forgiveness from all you luminaries for my lack of self-control upon hearing reports of the rebels' heresy.'

'Now, now,' came a cultured female voice, 'having righteous zeal is a virtue. Though I must confess I am inspired by your show of ...passion which is such a rarity for your kin. We were fortunate enough for you to come to our aid in this dire hour, for that we will be forever grateful.' said Khatalina von Klaeus, the current ruling planetary governor.

The governor was a gorgeous looking blonde who looked to be in her early thirties but was in fact over seventy years old, being powerful and wealthy she had constant periodical rejuvenat treatments to preserve her youth. Thanks to that she stood tall and her golden personalised power armour glittered in the meeting chamber, but upon closer inspection minor battle damages and scratches could be seen here and there.

Little did Khatalina know that Kryptorer wasn't fussing over what was shown at the strategic meeting. The arch dominus had just received a message from Thaberus via his secured network and saw what had transpired. The outrage he experienced was so severe that it overcame his multi-layered emotional suppressor, resulting in his unexpected outburst.

These damned heretics were so close to ruining his sacred mission again. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Kryptorer was seething with a sense of anger that had last been experienced lifetimes ago, and how could he have not? He had caught glimpses of what was behind the blast door at the end of the activation chamber.

There, what might be a true technological treasure trove awaited and just when he was about to gain entrance to it, unexpected events kept delaying his access to it.

Kryptorer Cykel had lived for many thousands of years, what little remained of his humanity was locked away in a thrice reinforced adamantium skull and his true personality was locked even deeper underneath an operating surface persona. Through certain past experiences, he had learned the hard way on the disadvantage of putting one's indifference on open display, especially when dealing with any powerful individuals who were not adepts of the Omnissiah.

Ever the practical soul, he had searched for a solution and came across a method that was borderline heretical by the reckoning of his order; through advanced neuron and cogitator manipulation, he created a sub-core of himself and wore it like a mask.

This sub-core persona was designed to be approachable by non-augmented humans for smoother interaction and it had worked wonders for him, opening previously closed doors in negotiations. Ever since then he had been operating as such, his sub-core would appear friendly and interact with the outside world while his true cold, dispassionate and calculative self would withdraw and run computations on whatever he fancied, essentially running simultaneous thought processing.

Very rarely, some event deemed by himself important enough would occur and his true self would surface to take over the auto-piloting friendly sub-core persona. Kryptorer silently stood up as his sub-core personality was recalled, as he did so, all pretence of subtle human behaviour and speech pattern imitation was dropped as he spoke in a cold flat tone.

'This conflict delays the great work of the glorious Omnissiah and as such, warrant my undivided attention to end it as soon as possible. I have deemed it necessary to deploy all the resources at my disposal to prove the supremacy of the Machine God to the heretics. My cult will be most grateful for the full cooperation from you all to see this through, as will the benefactor of my holy expedition.'

Though his words sounded courteous enough, all those present felt Kryptorer's non-negotiable undertone and some eyebrows were raised.

'Who is this benefactor you spoke of? And what would be expected from us?' One of the generals asked.

Kryptorer turned to the man, deciding for a moment before answering. 'It would be better for her to tell it herself, but rest assured, she has authority over all the presiding here. Worry not of the parts you all will be taking, I promise you they are well within your capabilities.' That created some murmurs amongst the crowd but the arch dominus cared not as his attention was already elsewhere.

Oh yes, she has the authority, his true core mused to himself as he reviewed the flight log of gunship Flameraven over and over again, analysing its details, hidden within the record but plain for him to see was the tell-tale signs that despite suffering from memory loss Syrine still had the capability to use her authority, and that provided the key component for him to end this conflict as soon as possible.

Chapter 12: ORIGIN

Chapter Text

The first memory she had was looking up into the light from a place of darkness. It was bright beyond imagination and seemed to be observing her from the highest point in the heavens.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, her inner voice seemingly echoing in the endless space. The light seemed to flicker by the merest degree at her question but did not answer. She, in turn, understood she was being observed and continued to gaze into the light. It continued to shine on her for a long time before it finally communicated with her.

‘I am your creator, the Master of Mankind…’ that was the first time she spoke with her creator.

Little was directly communicated to her from the Emperor, but she knew she had a lot of brothers and that her creation benefited from the accumulated experiences He gained from their creation. Consequently, while her creation was a lot less resource-intensive than any of her brothers, the Master of Mankind utilized some of the most advanced arcane techniques known to Him. A proud little side project done with leftover resources, so to speak.

She was given the name Syrine by her creator and she was to become an imperial heiress, with the term “heiress” used loosely to represent her status as a direct creation of the Master of Mankind. Such notions were hammered into her even while she was but a faint consciousness in her incubator. Vast collections of knowledge were imprinted into her very being so that she would help her creator and her brothers run the empire when the time came.

The empire itself was on the verge of a brand new phase that promised eternal glory to mankind and her help was needed. She was to aid Him on administrative tasks and be an anchor to the empire's internal affairs where brute force and legions of super-soldiers were poor tools. This much was communicated to her by her creator, the shining figure who called himself the Master of Mankind, better known, as she eventually found out, simply as the Emperor.

Syrine for her part was ready for a lifetime of service to her creator, to work tirelessly behind the scenes or in front of the masses as the situation required. Be it to follow one of the brothers to further expand the empire or devote herself to further illuminate the galaxy with her creator's light, she was prepared for any task assigned to her.

But somehow she was kept in the incubator for maybe too long a time, a deliberate action that was done without her understanding. Syrine felt she had spent an eternity basking in the Emperor's light while growing inside her incubator. During this period, she learned about the world outside her incubator through a direct knowledge feed via an arcane datalink.

Syrine had the impression her creator was always extremely busy, she could feel His attention on her from time to time but it always went by in a flash, a sudden brief supernova out of nowhere and gone before she could react. Inside the darkness, she continued to accumulate vast amounts of information and could rightly be considered a super sage before she even drew breath. She could recall an endless stream of information and perform hyper-complex mathematics inside her mind. But knowledge without context was sorely lacking and she grew restless, yearning for more.

Once, on a rare occasion when she felt the light’s attention lingered on her for more than a second, she took the courage to ask: ‘Are you my father? And what am I?’ Both natural questions after she had reviewed her imbued knowledge countless times about humanity. The light stayed and decided to answer her question.

‘You can call me father.’ He said and contemplated the second question for a while. ‘Your brothers are primarchs, and as for you, you are lesser than your brothers but greater than the rest of mankind.’

‘Primarch, but lesser, so lesser primarch… a primarch minoris?’ She asked, the terms came naturally to her. The light did not disagree and left it at that.

Another rare time when she felt His attention on her during the long dormancy she asked, 'Father, when will you let me out?'

Again the light flickered by the merest of degrees before answering. ‘Not now, now is the time for might and brute force. Your talents will be needed later.’

Again, Syrine was left in the black void for an indeterminate amount of time.

‘We are almost done.’ One day, out of the blue the Emperor communicated to her. ‘Your skills will be put to use after this colossal mess is sorted.’ He said, sounding tired. That very notion brought great discomfort to her, for she could not fathom how someone as powerful as her creator could be under severe duress.

‘What happened, father?’ She asked. The Emperor didn't reply, but she felt a hint of melancholy from her creator. ‘I hope the next time we speak it will be a happier occasion.’ It sounded so promising, Syrine did not know that this was the last time she would be having a proper conversation with her creator.

Much later, when she finally escaped the enclosure of her incubator, the empire was in shambles, unceremoniously gutted by the most brutal war known to humanity. All her brothers were missing after they turned on one another waging wars across the stars. Her creator, the entity who she had called her father, was technically both insane and eternally on the verge of true death, confined to the Golden Throne.

The promising world that was shown to her was no more, in its place laid a grotesque shell of a fallen galactic empire where the dreams of eternal glory died.

The first thought that came to my mind:Has that overly long and convoluted lucid dream session finally ended?In the said dream session I apparently took the place of the hidden true daughter of The Emperor,who is in no way canon, and had adventures dealing with armed militias led by renegade space marines and later helped an astropath to make contact with multiple planets.

In the dream, I had psychic powers and met with a lot of interesting people of the grimdark universe, from a squad of battle sisters, an arch tech-priest dominus, an inquisitor and even an imperial assassin. The unduly lengthy dream session even concluded with an origin brief of her story of how she was kept in an incubator the whole time during the whole great crusade and Horus heresy era.

At times I wondered if it was a dream at all, I even secretly pinched myself a few times but was unable to wake up. I had heard the myth of suiciding to escape from your dream but from the sound of bolter discharge, the smell of blood, gunpowder, the sight of charred human remains and the impact of g-force on that gunship, everything felt too real for me to try the method.

That all changed when I became psychically active in the latter part of the lucid session, it felt so trippy I was finally convinced it was a dream, coupled with the realisation during all the adventures I never once felt thirst nor hunger or the need to go to the bathroom, something which was impossible and just made me went with the flow with a lighter heart.

The final section of the dream was to convince the weeping astropath to carry on with his mission. Together we tried to send a message to the wider Imperium asking for reinforcements but only succeeded in making contact with the planets in the subsector, further validating my hunch on this being the limitation of my dream. Those imperial planets we successfully contacted all sounded grateful and frenzied at the same time but that is another story of its own right.

Well, as interesting and realistic as it felt, it was time to get back to my mundane and uneventful life, perhaps the whole thing was a hint for me to finally start working again on some of the eternally work in progress projects from my huge pile of shame; that was my thought as I sighed and reluctantly opened my eyes, only to be greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling.

Alarmingly, it was not the ceiling of my own room, this ceiling had a luxury suite feeling to it and had intricate designs filigreed onto it. Mixed within the intricate patterns were the distinctive shape of human skulls. Human skulls on luxury ceiling designs, to my knowledge there could be only one universe that would go down that path.

Startled, I bolted upright and looked around. A room of suffocating luxury surrounded me. On one of the walls was a huge mirror. On it, I saw the reflection of a bewitching white-robed girl with straight platinum hair sitting on top of a huge bed.Oh! The things I would do to get a girl like that into my bed, but...with a numbed mind I raised my right hand and waved, the girl in the mirror did the same.

A surge of indescribable feelings reached me, in my state of confusion and panic I grabbed the closest thing my hand could reach and flung it with all my strength.

Next thing I knew the said object flew with an absolutely mind-boggling speed and hit the wall with a thunderous thud. Watching bewilderedly as paintings fell off the wall and a flower vase tipped over from the impact, I was rudely reminded of the fact this girl was supposed to be a mini primarch with a transhuman body.

Or was it?I looked down at my hands, instead of my usual pair of old large hands I was greeted by a pair of delicate appendages covered with flawless porcelain skin. But I… I had to be sure.

[Analytica] Activated-

Name: Syrine, primarch minoris, psyker-passive mode, abnormal existence. I looked and looked again, the words didn’t go away. I wanted to scream and cry, but no sound came out and a familiar line of message appeared in my vision:[Regalis]Action override-

On the verge of a mental breakdown and seethed with an infuriating amount of frustration, I screamed internally, ‘just what the hell is this[Regalis]thing?!’

[Analytica] Activated-

This… this is the ultimate glamour spell all the female celebrities back in my old world would kill for. No wonder I still look like a supermodel even after just waking up from my sleep.

Chapter 13: MORNING GUESTS

Chapter Text

It was early in the morning when sister hospitaller Veritta Kern walked tiredly towards the meeting point she obtained from Niandra. They were both members of Inquisitor Thaberus Thorn's retinue and had an amicable relationship within his mini warband.

Generally, be it infiltration or taking out critical targets, Niandra would be tasked with the most critical aspect of the missions whereas Veritta would fix up any of their members who suffered injuries during their mission. It was also Veritta's job to fix the occasional interrogation subjects to prolong the "interview" session when needed. It was a grim duty that she had answered fully with all her talents.

Behind her were three servitors carrying the luggage of the mysterious individual Syrine. As Veritta turned a corner she recognised Niandra's silhouette in the distance, the way the assassin stood signalled her to wish to talk, probably for a short mission briefing.

'Nian.' Veritta called out.

Niandra nodded, acknowledging her colleague before replying. 'Took you long enough.'

Veritta sighed. 'Complications with the luggage contents.'

'Really? With that little amount of stuff?' Niandra looked behind Veritta, evidently not impressed by the paltry amount of material present. When the rich and powerful people of the Imperium moved between worlds, it was not uncommon for their "personal necessities" amounting to what looks like a whole month worth of supplies for an Astra Militarum battalion.

'So? What is the deal with our little miracle lady?' Veritta asked.

'She is… a complicated case. While she seems cordial enough, do tread lightly with her.'

'But you are here.' Veritta scoffed.

'Listen.' Niandra cautioned and whispered, 'If for any reason she went rogue, I am not sure I can stop her.'

Veritta almost gasped at that statement, her impassive face turned serious for the first time in the conversation. Working alongside Niandra for decades, Veritta was well aware of her capabilities, so much so with the latter around as of this moment not even the sudden appearance of a heretical Astartes would faze Veritta much.

'Throne, are you jesting?'

Niandra did not reply as she never joked about work.

'Come on, tell me more, no one has ever mentioned anything about her being able to best you in combat?' Veritta pressed.

'No, she wasn't much of a fighter from what I had observed.'

'Then?'

'Hmm.' Niandra contemplated for a while before finally answering. 'Truthfully speaking, I am not sure. But somehow I have a feeling if it reached that point things will not be easy or pretty because I cannot get a proper gauge on her capabilities nor her personality.'

'You are making this scary now.' Veritta protested.

'Let's go.' The assassin signalled the sister to follow. They walked a short distance before arriving at the room where Syrine had spent her night. Niandra stopped to look at Veritta again, her expression reading "try not to offend her", making the latter gulp at how serious the assassin was approaching this assignment.

Just as Niandra was about to knock on the door, something triggered her instinct to jump back, a split second later a thunderous low thud could be heard coming from the room. Veritta let out a small yelp at the sudden development and moved away from the door.

They stayed silent for a while, standing completely still looking at the door. Finally, Niandra moved slowly towards the door, she produced a spying device and pushed it on the door and listened. A moment later, satisfied with whatever she heard, the assassin knocked on the door and slowly opened it.

The room had a typical interior set up for an important guest, inside the room she saw a girl with platinum straight hair sitting on a huge bed, she was hugging her legs, head on her knees as if in some sort of agony.

'Syrine?' Niandra asked.

The girl turned her head and looked at the assassin before replying in a dreamy tone. 'Niandra. Morning to you.'

'Are you hurt or anything?'

'No, I was just… upset. I still can't recall most of my memories.'

'My colleague is here with your belongings and she will provide you with a basic medical examination.'

Niandra signalled Veritta to enter, and the latter entered the room hesitantly with the three servitors behind who put down the luggage bags and left. Niandra observed Syrine seemed to flinch at the sight of the servitors, but her expression was so subtle even with her transhuman perception she could not be sure about it.

Servitors are mindless humanoids of flesh and metal used to carry out simple, manual tasks. They can be either made of mind-wiped humans or the vat-grown variants. Servitors are programmed and cybernetically-enhanced to serve some specific, rudimentary function and are ubiquitous throughout the Imperium. Considering most imperial subjects wouldn't even spare servitors an extra glance the whole observation just came out as odd for the assassin, further reinforcing her own assessment of being unable to read Syrine properly.

Then there was the room itself, one side of the wall had a few paintings that fell off and were on the floor. Niandra was sure that was not the case when she did a quick sweep of the room yesterday. Other details she noticed that were out of place was a toppled flower vase and a single bolster pillow on the floor. Niandra walked over, picked it up and took a closer look at it.

On one side of the pillow, the fabric appeared to be torn suggesting the sleeping aide had been subjected to some brutal surface impact force.

'You threw this?' Niandra asked.

'Sorry,' Syrine said as she buried her face on her knees. 'I did that just now when I realised my memories did not return after I woke up.'

'This is sister Veritta, she also works for inquisitor Thaberus.' Ever the professional, Niandra pushed forward her agenda of the day. Veritta stepped forward and performed the sign of Aquila.

'Well met, Lady Syrine.' the hospitaller said.

Syrine gave the hospitaller an apprehensive look before getting off her bed and properly returned the Aquila sign.

'Please, just call me Syrine.' She said before talking in a resigned tone. 'Sister Veritta, I have to inform you in advance of an issue which I believe Niandra knew as much already,' she paused for a while before saying her next words slowly. 'I am not a normal human.'

Veritta did a quick exchange of glances with Niandra upon hearing that statement, the latter indicated she should proceed with the planned examination so Veritta pressed forward despite having her own doubts.

'Perhaps let me do a standard medical examination first?'

Syrine did not reply but continued to look at the hospitaller, this was the first time they made direct eye contact and suddenly Veritta understood why her colleague of many years warned her beforehand of this meeting.

Sister hospitaller Veritta Kern was not your typical citizenry of the Imperium. To put it into perspective, "The ordinary has nothing to do with anything off-world" was a common saying within the empire as almost all of the mundane masses of the massive empire will never step foot upon a starship in their entire life, let alone travel between worlds and different star systems; in terms of exposure to the worldliness of what the galaxy has to offer Veritta Kern had seen enough to be ranked amongst the elite within the masses of humanity.

In her line of duty, Veritta had travelled to various star systems and frequently work in the presence of individuals who has the power to drop death sentences on an entire planet's population. Due to the unavoidable sinister nature of Thaberus' work, she had seen enough behind the scene workings of the inquisition to drive most of the ordinary citizens mad. Veritta herself had garnered enough clearance level over the years to receive briefings on the dangers of chaos sorcery and daemonic entities to know these were no fairy tales.

Even the Emperor's mighty space marines which some of the more backward agricultural world masses worshipped as angels of death had lost their mythical appeal to her as she learned more and more about them in her line of work. Veritta sometimes wonders how those masses would react if she had told them she personally had cut apart some of the space marines who had turned renegade and at this point had seen enough of these 'angels' dead in the interrogation chamber for her to even care.

So when the worldly Veritta locked eyes with Syrine, she found it strange her level of unease rising rapidly despite the latter showing no sign of malice in demeanour, it was as if just having Syrine's full attention was enough to intimidate her. This experience reminded Veritta of the time when she was on the verge of a panic breakdown when she met a transhuman space marine in person for the first time.

The symptom of ordinary humans experiencing a high level of unease just by meeting a space marine was actually quite common, they call it "transhuman phobia". One would not know this without ever experiencing it first hand, but meeting an Astartes in real life was far from a pleasant experience. From an unaugmented human's point of view, a transhuman is stronger, faster and generally smarter than you before even considering their usually far superior equipment; to look directly at a transhuman Astartes would mean the understanding of one's totally inferiority and near-total helplessness against them, such realisation could trigger a sense of survival crisis response at the primal level, severe cases would render sufferers of said phobia to be non-functional in the presence of transhumans.

But her tendency to suffer from an episode of transhuman phobia was so long ago, it was bewildering her instinct was giving her all the warnings on not to slip up now. It was then Veritta noticed Syrine was not looking at her but pass beyond her and then Niandra's voice called out. 'Someone is coming.'

'There are three of them, one is wearing power armour.' Syrine added casually. Veritta felt surprised by that statement, she knew Niandra was operating on a sensory level much higher than a normal human, in fact, so far Veritta had heard nothing at all which hinted on people coming their way, much less about being able to discern one of them was equipped with power armour.

'Are you expecting guests?' Niandra asked and started tapping into a small dataslate.

'Not that I remember.' Syrine shrugged.

'.... The record shows representative of Adepta Sororitas landed just moments ago.' said Niandra after consulted security log from somewhere.

'Via an Aquila lander! I recognised these.' added Syrine suddenly with a seemingly misplaced sense of enthusiasm.

'Are you talking with the machine spirits again?' replied a rarely flustered Niandra, 'please restrain yourself from casually showing off your unusual talents.'

'Argh, I am sorry. Will observe these in future.' Syrine apologised by putting her palms together and did a slight bow. It appeared almost comical to Veritta but she was unable to laugh.Niandra was right, she thought, even the worldly Veritta could not discern what was actually going on underneath Syrine's weird antics.

A while later came a knock at the door. Niandra answered it and three Sororitas entered as predicted. 'Palatine Alicya.' Syrine cheerfully greeted the power armoured sister leading the party, behind her were two sisters of non-militant order, one was another hospitaller; the other appeared to be a learned scholar of the Adepta Sororitas.

'Revered lady,' Alicya bowed and asked, 'how is the situation with your memory? I have spoken with my order. They would like to confirm your identity.'

'About that,' Syrine said apologetically, 'not much progress, what do you need from me?'

The scholar looking sister stepped forward, formed her Aquila sign and spoke, 'Greetings, I am Welminah Maeyer of the dialogous order. We humbly request your cooperation.'

On that statement, Syrine took a look at all the guests in her room before saying. 'Very well, I would like to know for certain myself too.'

Chapter 14: GRIM PROSPECT

Chapter Text

Alone in a meeting room, I was sitting in a huge chair waiting for an arrangement from the Adeptus Mechanicus, my mind was re-running the events that happened a few hours ago with perfect clarity.

So the medical examination happened, I had my body scanned by the medical devices inside the fortress and the result was interesting, to say the least.

Both the hospitallers went quiet after the preliminary scans revealed I had two hearts and a myriad of unknown organs inside my body, confirming my transhuman status. Head scans looking for brain damage were inconclusive as the core structure of my brain appeared different from that of a normal human.

Veritta's dataslate was a property of the inquisition and it was unable to access certain enquiries of the scan results citing insufficient security clearance level. Acting on another hunch, I asked Veritta if I could try to access the restricted information with the credentials on my pendant instead of looking for Thaberus' inquisitorial rosette which would take a lot of time.

'You could certainly try,' replied Veritta with a stiff smile, so I did. After a few trials of figuring out how to do that, to everyone's surprise, I was able to bypass the restriction using my pendant. Comparing the scan results with the information within classified data revealed an organ called the immortis gland existing inside my brain.

The information regarding this gland was highly guarded, in its entry there was but a line stating "genetically engineered organ existing within the cerebral cortex of each of the Primarchs" with no additional information offered.

Representatives of the Adepta Sororitas left hastily after that, citing the need to report to their Order urgently. Veritta went somewhere, no doubt to report to Thaberus on the findings, earlier she had handed over several huge solid-looking space-age luggage which had belonged to Syrine… or me,this is so weird. After fumbling with them for a while, I unlocked some only to find mostly clothing stuff inside.

I guess girls are kinda the same whatever universe you are in, but I have to mention the quality of these clothing wear was out of this world, even a total novice like me could tell by simply looking and feeling their texture. Incidentally, the white robes I was wearing all this time were of the same quality and never seemed to get dirty. Later I received news that a representative of Adeptus Mechanicus, probably working under Kryptorer, was coming to see me and some arrangement requests were made in advance for the meeting.

There was some time until the appointed hour so I decided to take a quick bath since I had all my spare clothes and was in this attire for a full whole day already. During the brief shower, I found myself spacing out and was unable to look at the mirror. By the way, the toilet bowl was so solidly built I wondered if the ceramic used was the same type to be found on a space marine's armour, it felt sturdy enough to repel small arms fire.

'Come in.' I said before Niandra knocked. The door opened and a tech-priest entered with the assassin. The tech-priest stepped forward, bowed and canted, <Lady Syrine.>

I ran[Analytica]on him, the reading came back:

Name: Dataliad Vingh, posthuman, tech-priest.

'Greetings, while I believe we have met before you will have to excuse me, I recently suffered from amnesia and can't recall my past.'

<I have heard, it is the will of Omnissiah.>

'How should I address you? Just Dataliad?'

<So you do remember my name, I am honoured.>

Well, that was some easy brownie point.

<Dominus Cykell wishes to confirm your current condition and converse with you, Lady Syrine. He is currently tied down at the frontlines preparing for a major engagement so I am here to set up secured communication.>

Dominus Cykell must be how Kryptorer's underlings addressed him. I nodded and the tech-priest went to work, setting up a device he was carrying that was the size of a suitcase. A few moments later he was done, it came to life and a huge holographic projection of Kryptorer flickered into existence. This scene was like the mirror image of a certain classic sci-fi movie scene when the dark lord was conversing with his master.

…
…...

<++ ACCESSING… One (1) responding machine spirit within the vicinity. Three (3) responding cogitators via communication link #networkID ***.***.***.***.***** Connect? YES/NO ++>
Cogitators are the term for computers in this universe, so I can directly access them as well, interesting.
<Connect me to all 3 cogitators on the communication link.>

<++ Accessing cogitators via communication link ++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

I opened my eyes and willed the probes to fly, they lifted and hovered in the air.Hey, this is kind of fun. I proceeded and had them fly circles around Kryptorer and to my own amazement I could actually simultaneously control all three probes with ease.

<Very good,> Kryptorer remarked. <Now, a real test if you please. Kindly land the probes and we will proceed to the next phase.> So I did as told and waited, Kryptorer worked on a dataslate and a new scene flicked into existence from the holographic projector. It was a composite of multiple scenes featuring military-looking outposts.

<Please see if you can connect to these.> said Kryptorer.
Is that a drill or…?I looked at the Dominus and he was waiting on me eagerly so I closed my eyes and tried again.

…

<++ ACCESSING… One (1) responding machine spirit within the vicinity. Fifteen (15) responding cogitators via communication link #networkID ***.***.***.***.***** Connect? YES/NO ++>

<Yes to all 15 cogitators on the communication link.>

<++ Accessing cogitators via communication link ++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

<++Connection accepted.++>

……

…

They all responded.

<Cease all sensors and void shield operations.> My command pulse went through the link.
<++Complying.++> <++Complying.++> <++Complying.++> <++Complying.++> <++Complying.++>....

<Marvellous, simply marvellous!> Praised an ecstatic Kryptorer as he was making a sound that was close to laughter, <the heretics had made a fatal mistake, in their haste to forsake the Imperium, they did not have the time nor the expertise to hard reset all their war assets, so fundamentally all their primary assets are still subservient to your authority.> He said and bowed.

<With that done and confirmed, I humbly request your review on this upcoming operation.> Kryptorer continued as a map that must have been the frontline appeared in the hologram. <We will lure the heretics into a decisive engagement and… > the dominus talked and talked until I cut him off.

'Krypto...' I said, noticing my change of mood, he stopped.

My body started trembling slightly and the world slowed, thought acceleration activated without prompt.Is this… rage or fear? But this is weird, why is my thinking process not clouded with this amount of emotion? And why was I feeling confused if we were just killing heretics?I had been used as a weapon and it bothered me more than I expected. The ground seemed to shake as my inner feelings blared but it was tempered by the cold logical side of my situation analysis.

I soon realised the situation of my helplessness, I was so helpless without the people around me at this point in time so... boundaries have to be set, that's all I can do for now. I closed my eyes again and pushed down my emotions and planned my words, thank the throne for thought acceleration, this would appear less than a second for Kryptorer. After some deliberation, I spoke again.

'I appreciate your constant support and everything you have done for me but Krypto you have to notify me beforehand if my action will result in the loss of human lives.' I delivered my conditions.

The massive hologram of the dominus kept utterly still for a few seconds before he bowed and complied. <Understood.>

'Please, continue with the previous topic.' I said, so he continued with his presentation on how to draw out the rebel's main forces in a decisive clash, in which a massive trap will be sprung by using my authority to cut off their communications and turn some of their best weapons against them, thus securing a victory for the loyalists.

It was a foolproof plan on paper, so cunning even the cheesy power gamers at my old gaming club would concede in its diabolical genius but...this is not a game. That means many people will die, but how many?

'Estimated casualties?' I asked, again surprised at my voice not breaking.<By my best estimation, about 150,000 frontline personnel killed, 350,000 personnel wounded or captured, 3,500 tanks, 10,000 combat vehicles, 4,000 artillery pieces and around 400 aircraft will be destroyed.> Came his reply.

Chapter 15: INTROSPECTION

Chapter Text

Alone in the meeting room again, my head swelled with the idea of being responsible for the direct death and misery of close to a quarter-million people and indirectly affecting the lives of millions more. On the flip side, logically speaking if we do not end this swiftly that number will balloon upwards with no end in sight, so this would be the best way forward.

But... deep inside I was just a gamer geek, not some imperial heiress of a galactic spanning empire who might be able to casually disregard that sort of numbers with a contemptuous scoff.

For reasons unknown, when Kryptorer told me the number of estimated casualties, it made me recall the vague, horrible scenes I saw back in the activation chamber when pressed by Thaberus.

Now that I think about it, ever since coming to this world everything I had experienced could be recalled with absolute clarity... all except for that moment. The strange implications sent crippling fear down my spine.

So many questions, so little time. I had promised Kryptorer to get back to him within the next twenty-four hours should I want any revisions done with his plan or he will just proceed with the planned massacre with me involved as the main catalyst. Somehow, my instinct was telling me that going down that path of mass casualties was to tread the path of eventual damnation.

Getting a grip on myself, I reexamined my current predicament and realised I needed to know exactly where I was in the timeline to exploit my knowledge of the universe.

<Fortress Endurance Sigma.> I reached out.

<++ Received and ready to serve, Authority. ++>

<What is the current calendar year?>

<++ 999.M41.++>

As soon as I heard 999.M41, the reason why Astronomican went offline became apparent to me. This must be the time when Chaos Warmaster Abaddon's Thirteenth Black Crusade had concluded with the destruction of the Fortress World Cadia, resulting in the Great Rift known as the Cicatrix Maledictum being unleashed unto the Imperium.

It was a galaxy-shattering event with three books released in conjunction with it, foreshadowing the return of Roboute Guilliman, primarch of the poster boys of the grimdark universe, the Ultramarines.

I took a deep breath, organised my thoughts and asked again. <Show me our location on the galactic map.>

<++ Complying. ++>

There was a delay before a 3-dimensional map of the galaxy materialised in my mind and my jaw dropped. I saw it, an indicator on a slowly spinning galaxy pointing in the middle of nowhere at the edge of imperial space, at an area that seemed to be one of the farthest frontiers at the end of the great crusade.

Location: Sub-sector Terminus Obscura, Externus System, planet Nusquam. A spec of unremarkable dust on the edge of the imperial stage. We were so far off from any major imperial system that the whole subsector might have died off for centuries before any central administrative staff would notice.

Those implications made my blood run cold. The Imperium will soon enter one of its most turbulent times in history. It will be so occupied by its troubles during this period, even if we did successfully get a message out...no one will be coming.

Cut off from the rest of the Imperium, suffering from a civil war with a decisive apocalyptic battle happening soon, not to mention a looming renegade space marines threat and more, even if we survived all that, this world will be so weak it will just fall over if any more horrors from the hostile galaxy came forth, and my instincts were screaming just that -more horrors are coming.

Running away was also out of the question, assuming I could even convince Kryptorer to abandon the technological wonders just in front of him to pack up and leave, I questioned the odds of us getting back to any major imperial system in one piece with the Astronomican offline here.

Why am I in so much trouble?What did Syrine tell me on that foggy road? I searched my mind and her words came clear as day, "Help me and the others. In exchange, my abilities, my body and my soul are yours," she had said the words with such sincerity when I promised to help but...I didn't know she meant it so literally.

Darn it girl, why do you run away from all these.Why did she ask for my help when she had this much power? Was there anything I can even offer up when compared to a literal minor demigoddess like her? I have got nothing but a heap of cheesy gaming experiences and a boatload of pop culture stuff to show for Throne's sake.

I felt cornered, my core shaking at the looming crisis, a sense of existential dread started creeping over, making me want to curl into a ball and cry. This feeling was eerily reminiscent of a familiar anime scene, where this boy who was the pilot of the most powerful mecha in his world, despite the power he wielded always succumbed to his emotional weakness and did not pull his weight. I remembered scoffing at such a scenario but now that I was smacked right into one,it sure isn't fun is it? Baka Shinji!

Am I losing my mind?What if I had been Syrine all along and my gamer geek life was a dream instead? Do I have any proof that my old self ever existed? Suddenly doubting both my past and present, I tried recalling the details from my gamer geek life and found that while my memories of them were vivid, they felt somewhat faded from my current point of view.

Was it because of my current transhuman level of senses? This world seemed so vivid, so beautiful. A beautiful yet grim world… wasn't there a song from that anime with the title of "Beautiful World"?

Feeling depressed about the grim situation, I tried to mentally recall that song in my head. First, the theme came back slowly, then the melody, bit by bit it gathered and before I knew it the song was perfectly replicated and repeating itself in my head. "Beautiful world~ beautiful boy~"the song went.

Somehow hearing the music in my head calmed me down.Since this song exists, so should my past.Can I play it in the physical realm? Will this count as piracy across dimensions?

Desperately needing a distraction, I looked for solutions for the technical challenge at hand and the formidable intellect locked within me started working. It seemed like I had an instinctual level of understanding of the technologies in this world. After some tinkering, I linked up with the cogitators of the fortress and did the data processing of converting thoughts into sound, a myriad of tweakings and data conversions later, a digital record of the song was successfully created and stored in my pendant.

<Play sound data "Beautiful World.mp3" on local speakers.>

<++ Complying. ++>

Will it play?Suffice to say this was not a real mp3 file, I just labelled it as such for ease of self-use. If this worked it might be the first known case of plagiarism across dimensions and time, I held my breath. The speakers came to life and as if magic, a remastered copy of the music started playing perfectly in the meeting room. "Beautiful world~"

It played, IT PLAYED!

I sighed and slumped on my chair, losing myself in the familiar song that echoed in the meeting room, letting my intellect work to passively optimise the acoustic quality until it hits the right spots. Warm tears would be flowing down my cheeks now if not for[Regalis]keeping my composure in check.

After calming down, my survival instinct kicked in and my mind started moving again. I realised now was the rare precious moment I could sit down and think. From my experience, once something massive in life starts you will just get sucked right into the centre of the maelstrom without time and space to reflect on what to do.

So I did exactly that, abusing my ability by spamming thought acceleration to review what I had known so far again and again. A lot of critical questions began to surface as I took an in-depth review of the current situation.

Take the opposition forces for example, both the armed men and marines who attacked us did not look tainted by chaos by any stretch, I had also by this point dug into the available reports inside the database of the fortress on them and found no clear evidence of the rebels renouncing the Emperor or pledging their allegiance to ruinous powers, so while working with a suspicious group of space marines might be their biggest sin here to label all the people on the opposition as heretics without reserves might be too hasty of an action that left no room for any other recourse.

As to why Kryptorer was directly calling them heretics …well, he is from the Mechanicus, and anyone who deprived a member of the Mechanicus of new toys is a heretic from their point of view.

I chewed on the situation, digesting and looked closely at it until a rough way out of this dire predicament could be seen, but it was riding on so many knife edges I winced by just looking at the end product.

First I will need to work on minimizing human and hardware casualties in the upcoming battle, as massive as this planetary civil war was, a sense of foreboding told me it will be nothing compared to what was looming in the future. My best odds of moving forward would be having as many layers of stuff between me and the cosmic horrors which were no myths in this universe.

After all, being cut off from the rest of the Imperium with an active psychic beacon would be like walking alone in the middle of the night in a death world forest infested with apex predators with a huge lantern in hand - you are basically expediting your own demise. On the other hand, shutting down the beacon presented too many complex questions and would need a thorough review.

I needed to leverage my position and knowledge of this universe to engineer an optimised outcome or else I might suffer a fate worse than death. That scenario was again not a myth in this world.

With my mind made up, I accessed the fortress' communication network. After some guesswork, I connected myself to the vox unit that was most probably belonging to Niandra.

It connected, but no reply came.

'Niandra?' I asked on the vox.

'Syrine? How did you… nevermind, what do you need?' Somehow I was enjoying the assassin sounding flustered more than I should, a good thing was with[Regalis]none of my smugness will ever show.

'I need to talk to Inquisitor Thorn, kindly arrange for me a vox communication with him.'

'That can be done. By the way, the representatives of Adepta Sororitas are still here and they wish to talk to you again at your next convenience.' Niandra replied.

'Didn't they leave some time ago?'

'They had a change of plans at the last minute, only their shuttle had left the fortress to fetch more of their people over.' So Alicya and her companions were still here, guess I was blindsided by the message log their Aquila lander had left the fort.

'Very well, when can my vox call with Inquisitor Thorn happen?'

'Hold on, attempting to get him now.'

A moment later, Thaberus' stern voice entered the chat.

'Yes?' asked the inquisitor, as ever he cut straight to the point.

'Sir, Syrine is on the line and she wishes to speak with you. Niandra out.' Her exit of the vox was signalled by a system chime.

'Well?'

'Inquisitor, I have some critical information regarding our situation and wish to discuss them with you.' I said.

'Interesting, I am with the governor now to formally endorse her legitimacy as the sanctioned ruler of this planet and review their actions to regain control.'

That would mean he would be at where Kryptorer would be.

'Are you aware of the arch dominus' plan?' I asked.

'We had a brief talk, I was pleasantly surprised he did have something concrete to show way before the promised dateline.'

Thank the Throne for competent allies, this saves so much time!

'So, do we discuss what I have to share now?'

'Better not, security issues aside I have a few matters to attend to now. Either way, I plan to see you tomorrow morning.'

'In that case…' I hesitated a bit before asking, 'may I enquire are those psykers orbiting the planet your people? If so, can I please ask you to bring one to see me? Preferably one who is familiar with the perils of the warp.' There was a slight pause before he answered. 'Very well, I will see what I can do.'

That knowledge was acquired when Arradus and I were making contacts with other imperial worlds, back then I had sensed some peculiar existences that were too near to be on other planets. But then I disregarded it because of the "this dream will end soon anyway" mindset. A while later, it struck me that both Thaberus and Kryptorer should still have their starships nearby, which meant the inquisitor should still have a few psykers on-orbit for whatever reason.

We finalised the details before ending our conversation, then I went to look for sister Alicya. With my direct access to the fortress' digital map and security system, I located the young palatine in no time, she was seated in an open area talking with her companions.

'Lady Syrine.' Alicya saw me from a distance and stood up, prompting the other two sisters to hastily stand up as well. Something about how they looked tenser just by my mere presence did not sit right with me, but there was little I could do about it.

'Alicya,' I said, intentionally skipping her title in an attempt to make things sound more casual, 'you were looking for me?' Alicya nodded before replying, 'Yes, we wish to inform you that Canoness Diadinah, the highest office of my order is coming to see you, she should be here before nightfall.'

Yet another appointment. I got a feeling things will get a lot busier before calming down.

Chapter 16: ORDER FOUNDING

Chapter Text

Five aircraft were speeding through a rapidly darkening purple sky in delta formation; an Aquila lander escorted by four Lighting air superiority fighters hinted how important the personnel it was ferrying was as it cut through the air with haste to its destination.

The Order of the Shining Beacon was an Ordo Militant Minoris of the Adepta Sororitas founded from a small splintered group that originated from the Order Majoris of Our Martyred Lady around a thousand years ago.

It was said the radiant stranger fought like death incarnate and swiftly cut down all the enemies surrounding them but yet more enemies approached. But the shining figure cared not, like vengeful lighting the figure went around and soon dispatched all of the enemies with contemptuous ease. After it was done with the grim task, the mysterious figure stood still and looked at the befuddled sister.

Even in her miserable state the celestian still remembered her mission, so she pleaded to her mysterious saviour for help to carry out the Emperor's work. The figure contemplated for a while before asking her to fulfil a promise in return. The celestian considered her odd circ*mstances, putting her mission first she promised the mysterious figure she would do any future biddings as long as it does no harm to the Imperium and only after they took down the enemy stronghold together.

'Canoness,' a firm female voice called out in the confines of the compartment inside the Aquila lander, but lost in thought the hooded woman failed to catch someone addressing her by title. 'Canoness Diadinah?' the voice called again.

'Ah, Sister Markeylla. Pardon me, I was spacing out.' The hooded woman looked up and replied to the celestian who was not charged with guarding their relic.

'You look tired,' replied Markeylla Merett, the celestian superior. She paused before asking the question that had been on her mind since the sudden retrieval of their order's most sacred relic, the nameless sword. 'So what did Welminah say in her report?' Welminah Maeyer was one of the designated dialogus scholars allowed to study the prophecies of their founder in this generation, thus she was sent together with Alicya to verify the claims.

Diadinah closed her eyes and after a while, produced a dataslate and passed it to Markeylla. While the two women were separated by ranks, they had been friends in private for decades so Markeylla did not hesitate and looked into the report that was meant for the highest office of her order.

Markeylla read and reread the dataslate before asking, 'does Inquisitor Thorn know of this?' Diadinah retrieved her dataslate before replying, 'of course, he had personally verified it with me on this matter. Speaking of which, the holy daughter candidate is actually under his care at the moment.'

Thaberus Thorn had just very recently arrived on the planet in hot pursuit of several suspicious cults and found himself in a civil war. Trusting neither side of the conflict, Thaberus had instead contacted the Sororitas to work with them and had been operating clandestinely for a while before just coming out to endorse the governor of her legitimacy.

'To think, the rebels actually had renegade Astartes working behind the scenes for them,' Markeylla remarked with great distaste, righteous fury blazing in her eyes.

'It seems the arrival of the candidate had forced their hand but…' said Canoness Diadinah before trailing off, unable to hide the grimace in her voice before continuing in a whisper. '...the most unfortunate thing had happened, a group of rebels led by renegade marines had successfully ambushed her and it is said she is suffering from amnesia now because of it.'

Even with her many decades of practised straight discipline in the order, Celestian Superior Markeylla could not hide her shock upon hearing the terrible news and blurted out her thoughts, 'Throne on Earth! Have we already failed when it counted the most?'

'That… I am afraid I have no answer,' Canoness Diadinah confessed, 'the fortunate news is she is reported to be still coherent and functional as a person. Lastly, there is this mention that she had gained access to the inner sanctum and an arcane device believed to be a psychic beacon was activated. Inquisitor Thorn had also verified this with me but since most high functioning psykers had been bedridden of late this is still under investigation.'

Outside the armoured compartment of the Aquila lander, Fortress Endurance Sigma loomed on the horizon.

Chapter 17: THE NAMELESS SWORD

Chapter Text

It was the first time I realised approaching me could be a daunting task for some people. Sister Dialogus Welminah Maeyer looked apprehensive and nervous as she approached me to verify if my name was written correctly for her record.

Welminah herself looked more similar to the older metal model which represented a sister dialogus than the newer plastic version. Sans the ridiculous scrolls hanging around her body plus missing a staff, her general hairstyle and the eyepiece she wore matched the metal model.

'Alicya, will your canoness be arriving in the same lander you rode?'

'Probably, why?'

We ended up receiving the canoness with two other sisters in another meeting room with spotless reflective walls. This room was much grander than the room I had used earlier, probably in a show of respect to the Order's highest-ranking member visiting.

Present with me was Alicya and Welminah, then Veritta joined in representing the inquisition instead of Niandra due to their request to keep certain sensitive matters within the Adepta.

We all stood up as the three new visitors stepped through the door with the canoness leading in the front, the floor clicking with the steps of their power armour boots. You could feel the air of piousness they carried as they entered the room.

The canoness looked to be in her forties and had surprisingly delicate features considering her position, she looked impressive in her personalised ornate power armour which was half-covered with an elaborately embroidered cloak featuring a hood. A huge symbol of the ministorum was shining proudly below her collar.

The two sisters who arrived with her were obviously elite warriors of the Order, one of them was carrying a long object covered by a silk cloth with purity seals plastered all over it. While they looked decent enough they exuded so much martial prowess in their demeanour I suspected even drunken hooligans would not dare to approach them, one of them even had a small Fleur De Lys tattooed under her left eye.

Alicya, Welminah and Veritta all bowed deeply while simultaneously performing the Aquila hand sign towards the canoness. At a loss of what to do for my proper etiquette but suspecting I should not follow the sisters, I merely performed the Aquila hand sign.

The canoness pulled back her hood, returned the gesture and stood perfectly still looking at me, after a while, just before it started giving me the creeps she finally spoke. 'Greetings, I am Canoness Diadinah. You must be Lady Syrine, I heard you had entered the inner sanctum?'

'Inner sanctum? You meant the place where I met Sister Alicya?' I inquired while glancing at the palatine and the latter was fast on returning an affirmative expression.

Canoness Diadinah nodded and continued, 'your arrival was foretold by our founder, it was unfortunate this happened at the worst possible time and resulted in your amnesia. I apologise if my actions appeared hasty but our situation is getting dire and time is scarce.'

She then gestured to the sister who was carrying a long object and the sister stepped forward, carefully unwrapped the package to reveal a huge sheathed sword that looked too big to be wielded with one hand for an average human.

The sister respectfully presented the hilt end of the sword towards Diadinah. The canoness muttered a quick prayer before pulling out the sword in one go with both hands. A blinding flash filled the room as the mirror-finished blade exited its sheath.

'Behold, the nameless sword.' Diadinah said. I heard Alicya gulp at the sight of their Order's holiest relic and all eyes in the room were looking at the shimmering blade. The canoness admired the sword reverently while explaining to me, 'though impressive, this relic is only a really sharp piece of almost indestructible metal forged with incredible skill. The reality was, any decent power sword will outperform it so it was rarely used on the battlefield.'

'However,' she looked at me and continued, 'there were records of it behaving like a power sword and more in the heat of battle during dire circ*mstances, which should have been impossible due to the sword having no power circuit nor power source.'

Diadinah paused for a while before turning to her colleague, 'Sister Welminah, have you briefed Lady Syrine about our founding legends yet?'

'Yes, my canoness.' The dialogus sister quickly replied.

'Good,' Diadinah said and approached me with the huge sword. 'There is one more legend that was only passed down from each successive canoness… until now.' She stopped in front of me and presented the hilt of the sword towards my side.

'It was said the true and Holy Daughter of the Emperor will appear in our darkest hour to lead us, and the nameless sword shall be her witness.'

Wait, what?While I *might* be this prophesied figure they spoke of, I was definitely no warrior, let alone wielding a sword. 'What am I supposed to do?'

'Just hold the sword,' Diadinah nudged.

Looking at the large blade, I hesitated and wanted to decline, 'I am no warrior, canoness.'

'Please my lady, a final verification if you will, this is the secret directive my order passed down since our founding.' Everyone was looking at me expectantly. I gulped, touched the hilt of the sword and picked it up. It was surprisingly lighter than it looked. I ran[Analytica]on it and it simply readNameless sword.

Its size was on the larger end, probably due to it being built as a single-handed weapon for a space marine size end-user in mind. In my hands, it sort of resembled the size of a slightly larger bastard sword.

I raised the sword with both hands, had its blade stood upright pointing at the ceiling and was enlightened to the fact that this was a perfectly balanced blade, a truly remarkable piece of work. Intrigued by the level of craftsmanship invested into a piece of metal that was meant for killing, I turned it slowly while watching the light reflect on its mirror finish.

It was then out of the blue that a weird sensation hit me. I had a distinct feeling someone or something was reaching out to me and my thought acceleration activated in case this was an attack. Just as the world slowed down, a flat and artificial sounding message wormed itself into my consciousness.

++You passed the preliminary scan. For the next level of activation, insert your blood into the sword fuller.++

Wait, who was communicating with me?I looked around and eventually, my eyes settled on the sword.This sword is imbued with artificial intelligence?The need for blood or any other bodily fluid to activate a gene lock was not a new thing in this universe, I recalled a scene in the lore where an infamous primarch licked on a dataslate to bypass a high-security measure.

I looked at the sword again and decided to do as it advised, but I was too big a pansy to cut my finger with its edge. 'Sister Veritta.' I held out my hand to her, 'if you please, kindly prick my finger so I might get a few drops of blood.' She was surprised but quickly went to work with haste, a few seconds later and it was done; it was wise to leave it to the professionals. All the sisters watched with bated breath as I gingerly dropped my blood into the sword's fuller.

++.....++

Nothing happened, did I make a fool of myself?

Then a loud chime sounded from the sword, startling everyone in the room and more messages started reaching my mind.

++Genetic code accepted.++
++Next level activation started.++

As the sword "came alive", alarmingly I felt it started drawing heat and energy from me. Just as I was about to panic and drop it, the sword passed the energy back to me and an energy loop of sorts formed. Faster and faster the energy circulated until I felt like the weapon had become an extension of my limbs.

An energy field suddenly flickered to life around the blade of the sword, showering the meeting room with pure blue light while the sisters gasped.This is…?'The azureus glow,' Welminah whispered with her trembling voice, 'last recorded sighting was over two centuries ago.'

'Hmmm…' While this looked pretty, I was unsure of its stability and decided to test it. Like a noob, I did some mock swings with the weapon and stopped when remembering I really was no warrior with zero training in swordsmanship. My sword swing probably looked so amateurish I wonder if it made the battle sisters cringe. The good news was the energy field persisted and was not going anywhere.

'So, it is just a fancy power sword?' I queried while marvelling at the glowing sword.

'My Lady, it is running without a power source.' Diadinah replied with unconcealed excitement. Maybe that sounded like a miracle on the surface, but I reckoned it should be just some fancy mechanic like the luxury Rolex watches running solely on kinetic energy but scaled up with space-age technology mixed with a bit of Throne knows what sorcery. Personally, I was not that impressed due to the simple fact that using this weapon still implied one had to walk up to people and chop them up within arms reach.

I looked again at the shimmering blue light on the mirror blade and had to admit, impractical as it was going melee into a battlefield brimming with guns, the sword with its energy field activated was enchantingly beautiful. Then an idea hit me: what if I introduced my psychic energy to the circulation.

Though I loathed the idea of activating[Psykana Activa]as I still had so much to learn about the perils of the warp, my curiosity got the better of me. Just a little while should be fine, I thought and went psychic active.

[Psykana Activa] activated-

The world went trippy as expected but this time I was ready for it, psychic energy reacted to my active state and swirled around and inside me then onto the sword, adding another layer of energy into the circulation.

Then it happened, starting with a hint of fluctuation in the energy field, a second later a brilliant fire burst forth into existence and the whole blade was covered in a dazzling blue flame. Astonished by this sudden development, I almost dropped the sword again but immediately noticed no heat coming from the conflagration.

This is... psychic flame?I moved my fingers near the raging spectral inferno and confirmed no rise in temperature. How peculiar.

Mesmerised by the pretty light show, my whole attention was transfixed on it for a while until I remembered there were still other people in the room.

Now that I think about it, they were awfully quiet. Flustered by my ability to get lost in my little world, which would undoubtedly look like a lack of proper manners, I turned my attention back to them and was surprised to see all the sisters, including the canoness, knelt before me.

Speaking in a voice shaking with religious fervour, Diadinah proclaimed with the tone of finality, 'Revered Lady Syrine, I, Diadinah Grace, Canoness of the Order of The Shining Beacon, hereby officially recognise you as the prophesied Holy Daughter of the Emperor, please take over the command of the Order and lead us as you will!'

Wait wait, activating a flaming sword doesn't prove any-I wanted to say but caught a sight that made me froze, there on the many spotless mirror-like surfaces inside the meeting room were the reflections of a fair maiden standing tall, holding a huge sword crackling with raging azureus flame and around her head was the unmistakable holy radiance of a golden halo.

Chapter 18: THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: THE WAY FORWARD

Chapter Text

* * *

A realisation dawned on me, this whole sector was being cut off from the Emperor’s light, as a result, the psychic beacon lit up by Syrine had become the only detectable reference point for long-distance warp navigation for thousands of light-years across the entire region.

‘So how should we reply?’ asked Arradus.

‘Well, how was this usually done?’ I asked back, well aware of the many lives at stake here.

‘We never had this much traffic before, by default this should be referred to the governor but … the usual communication between the Telepathica chamber and her office were severed since the incident and she has been busy with the war.’

Chapter 20: THABERUS’ NOTES

Chapter Text

A very important meeting happened just slightly after the wee hours on the day that the rebels were expected to launch their decisive major offensive.

Inquisitor Thaberus Thorn had always liked to set up mind games when having to interview any interesting individual by himself. He would spend time working on a few initial scenarios and from there deployed his art of information gathering.

However, the way this meeting started had defied his expectation and his carefully crafted plans crumbled in the face of that.

‘May the Emperor preserve me…’ he sighed at her outstretched hands that were aiming for his hat and wrote down the date of the interview on his notes.

It was 999.M41, eighty years of active service in the Holy Inquisition and Thaberus Thorn had never felt so flabbergasted. Routine surveillance and tailing of several heretical cults had ended in the most unusual of circ*mstances, he and his merry little warband were now stuck on a planet with a massive active psychic beacon.

Sitting across him was Syrine, the mysterious transhuman amnesiac who was partly responsible for his current predicament.

After a rudimentary search about her background came back completely blank, Thaberus decided to put in more effort to dig deeper. He went as far as intercepting her luggage that was arriving from the Mechanicus ship, and the information he found only further deepened his concerns.

Amongst the little possessions she had, the most remarkable items were her collection of seemingly simple looking robes, clothes and body gloves. However, a preliminary scan revealed them to be anything but simple and his retinue had to request the use of his inquisitorial rosette to access more detailed restricted information.

It turned out that the fabric used for her clothes closely resembled the same classified material used on the banners of the Emperor's personal guardians, the fabled Adeptus Custodes. The quality of the fabric was in a league of its own amongst the countless materials the Imperium has access to. Not only was it as smooth and comfortable as the highest quality silks, but it was also practically indestructible against small arms fire, to say nothing of wear and tear resistance.

Thaberus knew the banners of Adeptus Astartes, the lesser cousins of the Custodes, could fly even in the face of apocalyptic firepower on the nightmarish battlefield of the 41st millennium. And with the common enough knowledge that whatever the Astartes can do, the Custodes can do better, he could assume that the banners of Adeptus Custodes would not only be made of far sterner stuff, but that acquiring said material was beyond the reach of most people even with significant wealth and power.

Further adding to the mystery, most of her collection of clothes was dated to be made over a thousand years ago. The result of all that made Syrine's origins highly disconcerting.

When they finally had the chance to sit down and talk she had a most unusual request, asking to take a closer look at his hat. After a moment of hesitation, he handed the armoured capotain over. Syrine took the hat and marvelled at the details of the stylized emblem of the Inquisition. Her expression of admiration rather than the common fear people exhibited towards the symbol of the Holy Inquisition only further exacerbated his concerns.

Just as Thaberus was thinking that this could not get any more unusual he observed the lady turn his hat until the stylised “I” was facing him, then she put the hat on. Slowly, she struck up an akimbo pose and declared in a haughty tone, ‘No one expects the Inquisition!’

There was some context missing here as Thaberus failed to understand her antics, and no one else was around to possibly provide a clue. Despite protests from representatives of the Adepta Sororitas, Adeptus Mechanicus and even members of his retinue, he had insisted this talk session be a private one on one.

She smiled, beaming with an expression that was completely at odds with the situation they were currently in. ‘Thank you, I always wanted to do that,’ Syrine said as she returned his hat. ‘It’s heavier than I expected.’

Then as if donning a mask her face turned completely neutral, the previous joyous expression was completely gone. ‘Now, let us talk.’

Over the decades in his line of work, Thaberus had developed what was akin to a sixth sense for discerning the truth from conversations with his… subjects. He could learn a lot from what was said, and his mastery of the art of interrogation allowed him to learn a lot more from what was not spoken.

Thaberus had taken great pains to study the subject of human body language, he dove deep into decoding the hidden meanings behind sitting postures, hand positions, breathing patterns and the pattern of speech. Thousands of hours were spent watching pict-feeds so he could learn to observe the twitching of facial muscles that were usually too fast for human eyes.

More than once, Inquisitor Thaberus Thorn had dropped his verdict even before the subject of his interrogation had a chance to speak. To Thaberus’ credit, his judgment had always been validated upon further detailed investigations. He was supremely confident of his skills, but that evaporated when he met Syrine.

She was sitting across him, her face and pose set to an almost inhuman neutral expression. Her deep silver eyes bore straight into him and she was utterly still, the periodical blinking the only reminder that he was not looking at a life-like sculpture of idealised perfection. Maintaining eye contact and studying her seemingly more than human features was both mesmerising and unnerving.

After a moment of silence, Thaberus decided to break the uneasy stalemate by making himself a cup of recaf from the delicate tea set that was strategically placed on the table. It was an old but proven technique, mostly used when the interviewee in question was not necessarily an enemy of the Imperium and receptive to courteous diplomacy.

‘You want one?’ He offered a cup to Syrine almost naturally. It was not everyday one would be in a position where an Ordo Hereticus inquisitor offered to make you a hot drink.

‘No thank you.’ He had expected as much and was slightly impressed. It was not everyday someone could so simply refuse an Ordo Hereticus inquisitor without a hint of using their own authority.

They sat silently for a while more, and for the moment, Thaberus was content to just sit down quietly and slowly sip his recaf. He decided to try another old technique, letting the interviewee speak first and hopefully become more willing to share.

The sound of breaking glass interrupted her mid-sentence. Looking down, Thaberus found he had dropped his cup of hot recaf, steaming hot liquid was soaking into his armoured body glove, but all he felt was bone-chilling coldness.

She looked up and continued, ‘Inquisitor, we are just starting.’ Her face was still a wall of neutrality.

* * *

Two hours later, Thaberus stumbled out of the meeting room. Waiting for him just around the corner were the most trusted members of his retinue. Sensing the inquisitor was not in his usual state of mind, Niandra rushed to him, crossing the distance of several meters in the blink of an eye.

‘Roboute Guilliman shall return.’ She had said it without any hint of doubt or deception. For the very first time in his grim career, Thaberus wanted to doubt his own readings.She was either delusional or telling the truth. Neither was a laughing matter.

What had really shaken him was not just about the things she said, it was how she had said them.She was just so… nonchalant about it. A brief moment back then, Thaberus had this illusion they were just old friends sitting down having recaf, and she was giving him casual updates about some mundane hobby they both shared.

By then the supposed original primary objectives of the meeting -- the discussion of Syrine’s identity and the upcoming major battle -- had since fallen to the sideline as more time was ended up spent on discussing other topics. At this point with all the information available to him, Thaberus had to concede despite his reluctance of admitting it outright, she might actually be who the Sororitas' legends claimed to be and her outrageous plan for the major battle might work.

In conclusion, regardless of the absurdity of it all, supporting Syrine’s current activities here seemed to be the best way forward for the benefit of the Imperium. It was only after the talk Thaberus noticed his notes never went beyond the date he wrote down initially - 999.M41.

For a split second Niandra thought she saw Thaberus’ right hand trembled and before she could verify it, he moved the hand to retrieve a small flask from inside his greatcoat. He then proceeded to open the flask and gulped down its contents in one go.

‘I thought you quit amasec.’ Her eyes narrowed slightly.

‘I did,’ Thaberus answered, putting his flask away.

‘Sir, Fulton and Tsalieh are here as requested, they just arrived.’ Acolyte Herlindya reported, ‘shall I brief them on their appointment?’

Thaberus was about to approve that notion before an unconventional and somewhat mischievous idea came to him, why should he be the only person to suffer the weird antics of that lady?

‘Nah, no time. Just tell them under no circ*mstances can they treat her poorly.’ He finally said and sighed, somehow the inquisitor knew today was going to be a long day.

Chapter 21: PSYCHIC DUO

Chapter Text

The now-familiar trippy sensation took over me again, as expected the two of them had a much stronger psychic resonance than Arradus in my active state, I could even detect a small linkage of their powers, that must have been the result of years of working together.

Chapter 22: IT IS STARTING

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: FINAL PREPARATION

Chapter Text

A lot of people will die because of my actions today.

That mental resolve was made as I was securely fastened to the harness of a chair inside the Flameraven again as it sped towards the frontline. Anxious about the looming military operations, I was not idle and had been ceaselessly using thought acceleration to review all the details and running simulations inside my head. Time itself seemed stretched from my point of view in this weird period.

A short while into the flight, four Lighting air superiority fighters appeared on our flight path and settled into formation to escort the gunship. This much was known because even as I sat quietly on my chair with no outside view, encrypted communication chatter between the fighters could somehow just be heard inside my head once I consciously tuned into it.

Somewhat mentally exhausted from my relentless and ceaseless review of the pending operations, I decided to take a break and eavesdrop on their conversation.

'Lightning One, look at the huge gunship! Who is the VIP this time?' someone asked.

'No idea on that Lightning Three, but be on the alert, the command mentioned high possibilities of sneak attack.' replied Lightning One.

'You serious Lightning One? We are way back in the green zone.'

'Say, any of you guys heard a rumour about the AA manticores firing at an unknown target here recently? I heard it was some sort of cyberattack, got a friend stationed near there and he said all the rockets had been fired.'

'Huh, ain't nothing gonna survive that kinda salvo.' someone laughed.

'Bah, I'd rather be in the frontlines now teaching those darn rebels a lesson than escorting some unknown big shots,' another replied.

'I heard the front is heating up so you might just get your wish after this run, Lightning Four.'

'Alert! Reading on auspex, bearing 12 o'clock!'

That startled me and I tapped straight into Flameraven's auspex readings. Sure enough, something appeared on the edge of the auspex range. Detailed readings of the approaching aircraft from the gunship's sophisticated systems filtered into my head and one profile emerged: Archaeopter Stratoraptors.

A cold and flat voice popped into the conversation, 'Lightning squadron, this is Pteraxii Prime Iota 47 of the Adeptus Mechanicus leading Stratoraptor Strike Wing Alpha, we are here to add to the escort of gunship Flameraven.'

There was a pause, I guessed the leader of Lightning squadron was scrabbling to verify the identity of the new flyers.

'... Roger that Alpha, we just received updates from strategic HQ on your arrival. Glad to have you with us.'

'Your compliance has been noted, we will lead from the front.'

"Cogs" was a derisive term used by some of the imperials for members of the Mechanicus, the reason being Opus Machina, the emblem of their religious faith was a hybrid of human and cyborg skull in front of a mechanical cog.

'The cogs sent their flyers too? Just who is it we are escorting, Lightning one?'

'Syrine.' One of the most powerful people on the planet was addressing me, interrupting my eavesdropping operation. Due to the excellent soundproofing of the gunship's interior, it was even possible to whisper while in flight.

'Yes, inquisitor?'

'You have my sincerest apology for what happened with Fulton, though I must confess my reluctance to punish him severely for his transgression due to the need for his talent for the uncertainties ahead. That, and the very unusual circ*mstances of your unique ability to be able to go psychic at will. Admittedly, I should have picked up on that part earlier with all your interactions with the psykers, so I must say sorry again for my shortcomings.'

An inquisitor was apologising to me due to the actions of his subordinates? He must be up to something.

He paused for a bit then continued, 'but Fulton did commit a grave mistake and nearly created a catastrophe. In the light of that, I would submit his fate to you after this war is over.'

His words prompted me to take a closer look at him.Is he throwing Fulton under the bus to save his own skin or bowing to Syrine's background?I searched for my feelings and found myself harbouring no ill will towards him nor the psyker. In fact, in light of the competency they and the sisters had shown with rapid developments, my respect for the people of this universe had been steadily growing.

'No harm was done,' I replied, 'please don't get too hard on Fulty, I was partly to blame too for what happened. I am grateful for the lesson and advice he provided, and I look forward to another session with him and Tsalieh soon.'

That should secure Fulton's wellbeing for now.

'Fulty, huh?' he chuckled upon hearing my usage of the psyker's nickname, 'I see you generally have a benevolent approach to issues.'

'Is that supposed to be a compliment? Anyway if your appreciation is real please help me at the meeting to push my plan forward. By the way, what happened to Niandra?' The assassin's absence was felt and I was sure she was present at the fort in the morning. But in truth, I had an idea of where she had gone.

Earlier in the flight, there was a sudden request from Kryptorer to utilise my authority for masking some of our aircraft to fly deep into the rebel-controlled territory.They must have confirmed the whereabouts of the rebel leader. Knowing this was the decapitating move we had agreed upon I obliged, followed his instructions and with the backend connection he had somehow established in the rebels' hardware, took over the control of a whole auspex network belonging to the rebels through the Flameraven's wireless connection.

'From what you told me, a total decisive victory seemed like the only way for this world to survive. I will protect the Emperor's domain to the best of my capability. As for Niandra, she took an opportunity to strike on critical targets.'

'Is she a Callidus temple assassin?' I asked out of curiosity.

'Well?' I smiled and pressed, merely more for fun seeing a stern person like him getting stirred up.

'No,' he answered reluctantly, 'it is a long story for another time.'

Suddenly I became aware of the Flameraven being targeted by a myriad of anti-air systems and a flurry of IFF exchanges between systems soon followed, it seemed like we were near our destination.

My stomach felt tight at the moment of truth. I was about to meet a lot of new people, most of which would be in a social league so out of reach in my previous gamer life I was at a loss of what to do when the meeting actually happened.

'Inquisitor,' I crumbled to the mounting internal pressure and whispered for help, 'you know of my real condition, please help should you see me heading towards any social disaster later.'

'You? Needing social assistance?' He actually laughed.So mean. 'I cannot fathom a scenario where that would happen. At any rate, I am sure the Sororitas present would not allow their Holy Daughter to be swarmed by the uncultured masses. You have no idea of the language they used to protest my solo interview session as if I was in a position to bully one such as you.'

A while later, we landed and Thaberus led the party towards the rear hatch. It was a crowd, we were with Rantor, Herlindya, Fulton and Tsalieh with the additional Sister Welminah and Tech-priest Datalid joining in as liaison for Sororitas and Mechanicus.

I noticed the subtle nodding between Thaberus and Fulton, there must have been some standard psychic security measures being carried out discreetly by them.

The rear hatch of Flameraven opened and we were greeted by a small crowd. Standing in the front was Interrogator Amael, flanked by Palatine Alicya and a decorated-looking female skitarius who I did not recognise.

Behind them were three small groups of people; inquisitorial goons-looking gunmen with extra soldiers standing at ease right behind Amael, the same group of sisters I recognised from the inner sanctum was following Alicya, and a squad of skitarii rangers standing still like statues behind the female skitarius.

It looked like a miniature imperium here.Hey, if we have space marines here we would make a complete set.I was still entertaining such silly notions when Thaberus stepped forward, prompting me to follow him down the ramp.

Alicya and the sisters saw me and their faces lightened up. I had this weird sensation as if meeting the fans of my own club, except my fangirls were all wearing power armour and armed with bolters.

'Sir. Syrine.' As Amael greeted us both, I could see a subtle change in the sisters' expression.Wait, are they getting slightly pissy now because the interrogator was addressing me without honorifics?These… formalities concerns might become an issue in the future, maybe I should get one of those Sister Famulous to sort out such matters after the war is over.

Thaberus tilted his head slightly, silently inquiring about the crowd he was not expecting. 'They insisted on coming.' Amael replied to the unspoken question.

I nodded at Amael before greeting the others.

'Sisters, we meet again. Skitarii, greetings.'

The sisters bowed reverently while the leading skitarius performed her sign of cog as a formal return greeting.

'Greetings, Lady Syrine. I am Kira Heptrix, Skitarii Alpha of the second cohort for Dominus Cykell's expeditionary force. We are here to escort you to the command bunker.'

* * *

In front of me were rows of people wearing impeccable military uniforms with rows of glittering medals, and at the centre of it all was a pretty blonde lady wearing a golden suit of power armour.

As a mundane middle-level salary earner back on earth I never had the chance to meet any important individuals, let alone a group of high-level VIPs, but here I was, meeting the top-level people on the planet. Not of a country, but the entire planet.

It would be straight-up lying if I were to claim I was not nervous. My stomach felt like churning but surely it was imaginary as this body had yet to give me the slightest issue yet.

'Esteemed luminaries, your attention please~', Welminah spoke up, her voice amplified by the mini laud hailer built into her scholar attire. 'We, the Adepta Sororitas wish to announce and welcome the arrival of our very important guest of honour.'

That was my cue and all eyes were on me.What was that old saying again? Ah... "you can only make a first impression once", so better not screw this up.With this body, it should be no problem.

Smiling at the crowd, my body moved naturally as it performed the Aquila curtsy. It came out smooth and easy, as the gesture was being done and my head was rising I activated my halo on low-intensity so as not to be too oppressive.A part of me knows this is somewhat cheating and underhanded… I am sorry but too much is riding on this.

I met with their gaze, seeing their pupils dilate and gradually increased my golden halo's intensity. Noticing the unusual sight before them, the bunker quieted down from its bustling noise.

When the whole bunker fell completely silent I spoke, 'Greetings to all. I am Syrine, daughter of the Emperor and bearer of His authority, glad to be making your acquaintance.'

There was a slight pause before the sound of murmurs rose from the crowd. Amidst the little ruckus, the Sororitas representatives rose as one, led by the canoness herself they walked right up to me. They stopped in front of me, performed their Aquila signs and knelt.

'I, Diadinah Grace, Canoness of Adepta Sororitas representing the Order of The Shining Beacon, declare to all that we recognise your status as the Holy Daughter of the Emperor and the authority you wield in His name.'

'Say what?' 'IMPOSSIBLE!' 'What absurdity is this??' Amid escalated murmurs, a huge figure rose in the command bunker, walked towards me and bowed deeply.

'I, Arch Dominus Kryptorer Cykell, the highest representative of Adeptus Mechanicus on this planet, hail the Ominissian Princess, direct creation of the manifestation of the Ominissiah himself and acknowledge the authority you wield in His name.'

Upon hearing this, the crowd erupted into an uproar and Thaberus stepped in brandishing his rosette, 'Order! People, order! We have a war to attend to for the Emperor's domain!'

This was the crucial part. While having the support of the Inquisition, Sororitas and Mechanicus were important for legitimacy, in reality, the mundane masses still outnumbered the combined institutions more than a thousand to one. Knowing humanity, there would doubtlessly be political troubles ahead, but those can wait for after the civil war is over.

I sighed internally, raised my hands and clapped once. As my hands connected I cranked my halo to the maximum output for a split second and then turned it off, silencing everyone briefly for an opening to talk again.

'Thank you all for the welcome. While we have much to discuss, all will be for nought if we lose the upcoming battle, so let us win this first before anything else.'

I then started walking towards the planetary governor herself, as my intention became clear to the crowd, they made way and split like the red sea under Moses' command.

'Governor Khatalina von Klaeus,' I greeted the lady in golden power armour with a slight bow, 'I am sorry for not announcing my arrival earlier, I will be in your care while staying on Nusquam.'

Arrangements were made beforehand to notify Khatalina of my arrival but she still seemed a bit caught off guard by my appearance. After looking stunned for a split second, Khatalina's aristocratic instincts went back to work and she returned my greeting with an elegant Aquila curtsy of her own. 'It was I who must apologise, it grieves us all to show a prestigious guest such as yourself the current state of our planet.'

'I will help where possible,' I said in a less than subtle attempt to shore up her legitimacy as a ruler for the planet. 'Governor, time is short and the rebels will be making their move soon, should we cut the pleasantries and start the last meeting before the decisive battle?'

'Indeed, will you do the honours of initiating the meeting?' Khatalina was fast on passing the ball back. This planet seemed to be filled with quite competent people, so I nodded and turned to Kryptorer.

'Arch Dominus, kindly start your presentation.'

Chapter 24: TO WAR

Chapter Text

Before the Nusquamese top brass left for battle, Thaberus dropped a gag order on them all, forbidding anyone to disclose my identity to people outside this meeting on pain of death and worse in our bid to exercise information control. The assembly was then dismissed as the time for the grand battle approached.

I was later introduced to the other leading figures of the Sororitas. Of note were the other three palatines, Sister Selisa Galan, Sister Helenta Catea and Sister Dominae Zeal. All were seniors to Alicya and looking the part of a capable field leader for the chamber militant Order.

As the palatines were present at the final war meeting and thus witnessed my halo manifestation, they reverently received me. It prompted me to realise how convenient all these setups were for Syrine, someone had been pulling the strings for at least a thousand years to make all this happen.

I then followed the sisters to an assembly for the final inspection on key elements of the operation with Tech-priest Dataliad, Skitarii Alpha Kira and a skull probe from Kryptorer following silently.

Canoness Diadinah was looking particularly delighted like she could not wait to show me the result of her overnight labour. As I stepped out to another clearing, what awaited me left me speechless.

On the field under a cloudy purple sky was a massed assembly of the elite units of Sororitas Seraphims in their familiar power armour with angelic-styled jump packs, their dull silver power armour glittering under the rays of the late morning sun that managed to sneak through the clouds periodically. The seraphims were standing completely still, in stark contrast with the tail ends of purity seals on their armour that were waving gloriously in the wind.

This is… gloriously magnificent!

‘Magnificent work, sisters.’ I praised the canoness and palatines wholeheartedly, trying my best to play the part of being a “leader” who did none of the actual work but took notice of good efforts.

The glorious sight of it almost brought tears to my eyes as my gamer self greedily soaked in the spectacle before me. In front of the three hundred elite sisters stood a single seraphim more decorated looking than the rest, she was standing in attention with her helmet tucked underneath her right hand.

This person’s name had come up time and again during tactical planning sessions with Diadinah and Markeylla back at the fortress so I knew who she was: Seraphim Excelsior Zharphia Abaiyo, the highest-ranking seraphim superior of the whole Order.

* * *

Chapter 25: FIRST STRIKE

Chapter Text

Today was the day that would determine who became the governor of this planet.

Flight Captain Galius, the commanding officer for flight squadron 315, was feeling good on the big day of the grand assault as his personalised fighter aircraft cut through the purple sky towards the frontline with his trusted squadmates in tight formation. They had the governor’s forces where they wanted them and a decisive battle was commencing. Going from past experience of dozens of engagements, there was no way they were going to lose this fight.

Galius was not a man who was particularly interested in the politics of it all, the governor and her half-brother had a quarrel so war broke out. As far as he was concerned, he was just glad that he was on the winning team.

After this was done and settled, Lord Kaithan would replace his half-sister as the new planetary governor, things will carry on as normal after the mess was cleaned up, the God-Emperor will remain as unmoving as the Externus sun and by His good grace maybe he will earn a few medals and get a good raise. Things were looking up.

That said, the forward squadrons ahead of him had not sent their updates yet and the chatter from headquarters went still some time ago. Galius was about to double-check if he had muted his vox unit by accident when a message started playing. From it came a calm and soothing female voice that he had never heard before.

‘Attention to forces under Kaithan von Klaeus, this is a statement made on behalf of Khatalina von Klaeus, the rightful Governor of Nusquam backed by a joint declaration from the Inquisition, Adepta Sororitas and Adeptus Mechanicus. Your actions of taking up arms against Governor Khatalina is deemed illegal and misguided. By the Emperor’s grace, we will confer to you a chance to surrender. Choose wisely when the opportunity to return to the right path presents itself. The Emperor protects.’

Galius was livid, just what in the Throne’s name is headquarters doing? Losing out on electronics warfare now of all times? Galius tried a few settings on his vox unit but all the frequencies were occupied with the same repeating message.

Just when he was about to turn to another frequency the message changed. ‘Attention to flight squadrons 315 to 320, your chance is here, we have total control over your radar net, vox network and ground anti-air systems, eject from your aircraft now for salvation…’

Galius gulped and felt a cold premonition as the vox singled out his flight group, making it sound less like an empty threat by the second. He quickly checked on his auspex and was stunned to find its readings had gone haywire and he could not even contact his squadmates. At the same time, his onboard warning system started to chime, signalling his craft was being targeted by anti-air systems despite the fact they were still flying in air space under their control.

‘This is not a drill, please don’t die from this. You have 10 seconds to comply starting now. 10, 9…’ Galius watched in disbelief as his day abruptly turned 180. He looked outside from his co*ckpit and witnessed the rest of his squadrons seemed to be in the same predicament, his first wingman was even frantically hand signalling to him.

‘6, 5, 4 …’ the gentle female voice continued her relentless countdown, the incongruity between how it sounded and its lethal implication paralysed Galius. Then he saw it, on the edge of his vision, far off in front were the forward squadrons and they were falling from the sky in droves, trails of smoke signalling the deaths of aircraft and explosions filled the sky while the warning chime inside his co*ckpit was getting deafening.

I watched as a literal god of war as the rebel flight squadrons 315 to 320 blipped out of existence, further cementing total air superiority for our side as the grand trap was about to be sprung. I was not sure if the pilots ejected from their aircraft in time but a final warning was delivered before the anti-air weapons hit their aircraft. Everything was calculated down to the second, giving them no chance to react outside the script.

The next targeted message was prepared as I kept up with thought acceleration to control multiple complex processes, compiled my warnings in digital sound data and delivered it to the next batch of rebel strike wings while targeting them with anti-air assets from the rebels’ own backyard. At the same time I was fabricating false data and auspex readouts for their headquarters to keep their main battle force on the ground rolling deeper into our trap.

< So are we good and proceeding with our plan? > I asked via the information link established via the podium.

<Yes, are you holding up fine on your end?>

< It felt a bit strained but it is manageable for now. >

* * *

‘...your actions of taking up arms against Governor Khatalina is deemed illegal and misguided. By the Emperor’s grace, we will confer to you a chance to surrender…’

Rearguard General Borrin raised his eyebrows at the message coming from the central vox unit of his command bunker. Charged with all the artillery battalions under Lord Kaithan, Borrin had multiple units of dedicated artillery groups under his direct command tucked safely behind the main offensive line guarded by layers of protection.

He was ready for a day of action on delivering death to the frontline via extreme range and had been waiting for targeting orders from the main battle group, but it was strangely quiet from the front.

Then the vox network seemed to be hijacked by the governor’s forces and had been repeating the same weird message ever since.

‘Bah, humbug.’ Borrin scoffed, ‘as if talking rubbish alone will change the course of the war, we have thousands of guns here waiting to sing to your demise, soon to be ex-governor.’

‘Maybe she knew her only way to get out of this is to talk us into surrendering,’ one of his aides offered. Borrin laughed slightly at his aide’s awkward effort to shine his shoes but had to admit he was never much of a fan of Khatalina due to personal taste.

The general mused at his own thoughts but was soon getting back into working mode and demanded, ‘quit idling around, who can tell me when will the vox network be fixed?’

Suddenly there was a commotion and a lot of sounds were heard from the outside. Borrin was alarmed as he searched his memories and it reminded him of the retro-boosters of jump packs, but none of the units under the banner of Kaithan utilised such advanced equipment.

Before he could verify what was happening the sound of bolt weapons firing was heard all around. ‘We are under attack!’ Someone in the command bunker snapped to his senses and called out. ‘The vox… the vox is not working!’ Another shouted.

Impossible! Borrin thought to himself, the governor’s forces had deep-struck jump pack units directly onto his position and cut off his communications? But the auspex radar net had picked up nothing, unless… ‘All our auspex and vox network had been compromised!’ He shouted his belated realisation.

Not only that, the fact that elite enemy units had directly landed on his command bunker meant a catastrophic level of classified information might have been leaked out.

‘The short-range independent vox units should still work, get the emergency runner truck going and warn Lord Kaithan that we are compromised!’ Someone did that and a Taurox truck parked at the edge of his base immediately sped off towards their headquarters. Borrin had been a general for decades, he prepared such a contingency for any just-in-case scenarios.

Little did he know squads of Mechanicus Sicarian Infiltrators had infiltrated near their base. The truck was ambushed and never reached the headquarters, while their short-range vox was hopelessly out of range to warn their colleagues.

Back in the base, Borrin watched in disbelief as the reinforced plasteel door of his command bunker began to glow red hot and was cut down by the distinct superheated melta beams.

To his surprise, the sisters pointed their weapons at him but took no further action, for a while the only sound that could be heard inside the bunker was the vox unit repeating the same messages.

She then turned her head at the vox unit which was still continuing its message ‘... choose wisely when the opportunity to return to the right path presents itself. The Emperor protects.’

Zharphia seemed to smile upon hearing that and eyed General Borrin again before saying, ‘our Holy Daughter has spoken, this act of mercy will only be granted to you once, so what is your choice? Choose wisely, general.’

Borrin gritted his teeth, made his resolution to die standing and replied, ‘You won this fight. Do what you want but I will not betray my people.’

Again he expected death, but Zharphia simply looked at him with an expression that suggested pity, like a parent looking down at a wayward child throwing a tantrum. ‘General, I believe you do not understand the gravity of the situation. Fortunately, there is a certain someone who could enlighten you. Sisters, secure the others in a separate room.’

It was at this time a skull probe with a sophisticated looking device attached underneath it floated into the command bunker. It flew around doing some sort of scanning for a while, then it stopped flying and settled down on a desk in front of the general. As it did so, all the vox devices inside the bunker finally stopped broadcasting.

Receiving no response, Syrine paused for a moment before asking a shocking question.

‘Have you forsaken the Imperium, general?’

Borrin felt his breath was taken away by the deeply offending question but his inert stubbornness held up his composure.

‘What? Never!’

‘So you are still a loyal servant of the Emperor?’

‘Always have been, always will be.’

‘Then why did you raise your weapons against the Sororitas?’

‘That… they meddled into our politics and came into our crosshairs on their own volition, it was unfortunate but it had to be done. We would never actively seek to oppose them.’

Syrine did not respond and her expression remained inscrutable.

‘I don’t care what you want. Kill me now, there is nothing you can do to change my allegiance.’ Borrin declared with pride.

Syrine smiled softly on that reply, ‘So unfortunate, your courage is commendable but your actions are misguided.’

‘... what are you trying to tell me?’

‘General, do you not realise your actions might have aided the great enemy in their heresy against my father?’

‘Wait, who is your father? Who are you again?’

Borrin was confused, while he did hear Syrine’s self-introduction clearly, it was common knowledge all members of the Sororitas identify themselves as daughters of the Emperor, why she would bring that up was beyond him, unless…

Syrine closed her eyes, suddenly all the communication devices in the command bunker came back to life. Borrin witnessed in utter bewilderment as he heard his own voice berating orders into the network, ordering multiple smoke screen barrages deployment in quick successions with his field units quickly giving back acknowledgements.

‘You… how?’ Borrin cried out in despair as his authority over multiple artillery battalions was hijacked live in front of him. Then to his utter horror, he realised Syrine could have just ordered explosive shells instead of smoke screens. The shock was too much for him, his knee gave way as he dropped to the ground kneeling.

Just as Borrin felt it was all over, Syrine started speaking again.

‘My offer of mercy to you still stands and I intend to extend the same offer to as many of your colleagues as possible.’

Not believing what he had just heard, Borrin looked up at Syrine again and found the latter looking back at him, a golden halo around her head. That halo… Borrin gasped.

‘How about it? I promise you no order will come forth to drop explosive shells on your allies. General. I would much prefer you to continue serving my father than otherwise.’

Daughter of the Emperor, I should continue to serve her father, going against her father is heresy. Borrin finally put two and two together, his mind went totally blank upon the revelation.

Chapter 26: ASSASSINATION

Chapter Text

Niandra watched as the supersonic depleted transuranium shells that could fully penetrate a battle tank went through layers of reinforced concrete and hit their mark, only to be repelled by an energy field that materialised on impact.

Even through the walls, the advanced sensors in her multi-spectrum binoculars had confirmed their quarry was still alive. This rare joint operation between the Inquisition and Mechanicus had started off promising enough, but a quick and easy resolution still eluded them. If it had gone as planned, Niandra just had to be a witness to Kaithan’s demise but unfortunately, the man was resourceful enough to survive their sniper volley.

So it is back to the standard affair after all, the assassin thought as she sprang into action and ran forward after sending out another signal notifying the strike force to go for the assault. Way ahead of her, squads of Mechanicus Sicarian Infiltrators who had snuck forward earlier broke their concealment and started a direct attack.

‘Artillery fire inbound onto target base, variant Manticore Storm Eagle rockets, ETA five minutes.’ The Skitarii Alpha Ranger who was in charge of the strike force dropped his vox warning with a tone so flat most people would think the speaker was completely devoid of biological parts, but what Niandra took notice of was their choice of weapon deployed.

Manticore rockets again? She mused to herself, silently noting how even the Cult Mechanicus, an Order that was supposed to champion cold logic could still be petty when a chance of payback presented itself.

Inside the perimeter of the headquarters, hell broke loose as automated sentry guns came online but instead of shooting the invaders, turned their guns on the occupants of the base instead. Heavy bolter rounds started firing indiscriminately into troops and administrative staff with gruesome effects.

Amid the ensuing havoc, any troops that managed to rally soon clashed with the Sicarian Infiltrators and the results were spectacularly one-sided. The tall and slender forms of posthuman Infiltrators barely broke their stride as they cut through the human ranks with flechette blasters spitting death, while taser goads split heads and bones in showers of blood and gore.

The cybernetic killers sped relentlessly forward, all the while broadcasting mind-bending neurostatic bombardment of anguished static screams on disruptive wavelengths from their domed-shaped heads to cause further disarray as they decimated the rebel ranks.

The rebels who were caught between a surprise attack and subverted security measures stood no chance, dozens of people died in the first twenty seconds before a general alarm was even sounded.

An elite strike force was assigned to the task and Niandra was attached to it as both liaison and overseer of the operation for the inquisition, as it was in Inquisitor Thaberus’ interest to confirm Kaithan’s elimination.

This was the first time Niandra was working with members of Skitarii, the cybernetic military forces of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Looking at the speedy progress, even as a lethal killer herself she was impressed by their cold efficiency. Just as she was anticipating the mission coming to a closure, the sounds of close quarter melee erupted from the target building.

Kaithan still has forces that are able to withstand the Skitarii?

The moment that idea crossed Niandra’s mind, there was a sudden sense of foreboding warning her that she had turned from a hunter to the hunted. Trusting her instincts, Niandra quickly moved to one side without hesitation and barely dodged an unseen attack that seemingly materialised from the thin air, feeling the air sizzling uncomfortably close to her face.

Despite the lack of a visible enemy the assassin somehow managed to parry two more heavy blows in a heartbeat before jumping back and dispersing a cloud of powder in front of her. Being the chief distributor for Thaberus’ inquisitorial judgement for decades had Niandra learned to prepare for all eventualities, so a seemingly invisible enemy hardly counted as the strangest thing she had seen in her unconventional career.

When her powder made contact with the enemy, a curious reaction occurred and undid whatever was holding up the stealth, revealing her opponent to be a space marine in full war plate.

Pushing down her own shock at the revelation, she had but half a second to get a proper look at the marine without any time to dwell on how a seven feet tall space marine could turn invisible.

He appeared to be wearing a dark grey suit of power armour of mismatched components devoid of any markings, but was primarily made up from Mark VI armour. His choice of melee weapon was a single lightning claw gauntlet.

The marine’s Corvus pattern helmet with cold blue lens stared like an avian beast as he pointed a bolt pistol at her, just in time for the assassin with transhuman reflexes to dodge his shot by the smallest distance.

Niandra lunged forward with her power sword, forcing the marine to take a step back. Taking her chance, the assassin quickly drew and fired her grav-pistol at the marine near point-blank range with her free hand.

A weapon that was really effective against large mass targets, grav weapons were rare but not out of reach from the inquisition. Knowing the possibility of encountering renegade marines again she had prepared the pistol just in case any of them showed up.

Too close to dodge the attack, the marine instead blocked the shot with his bolt pistol, sacrificing his sidearm and retaliating with a brutal and swift upwards kick. His attack connected but to his surprise, the assassin took the blow, the close space severely limiting its force to be lethal. She caught the kick with her arms and used it to launch herself backwards to put some distance between them.

The marine watched as the Niandra nimbly flew back, drawing her camo cloak in and activating it to melt her image with the surroundings an instant later. He was about to give chase before realising the perimeter' heavy bolter sentries had started training their guns on him, so he retreated.

Moments later, Niandra was applying first aid to her bruised forearm that had absorbed the kick while watching from a safe distance as the rebel headquarters compound was levelled by relentless bombardment. With its void shield generator shutdown, the base was helpless against conventional attacks.

Earlier she had witnessed a dark grey Astartes Thunderhawk gunship flying extremely low to the ground fleeing from the site like a wounded beast, she had little doubt Kaithan had escaped on it.

The Skitarii Alpha Ranger, sounding as lifeless as before, had reported back to her about the Sicarian Infiltrators squad tasked with apprehending the rebel lord had clashed with an unknown Astartes unit and was presumed lost before the bombardment hit.

We had since rerouted the whole tactical data streaming from the rebel headquarters and sent a constant stream of fake information to the rebels’ on-field army, masking loyalist movements to insert our entire army into strategic positions right under their noses.

From the rebel army’s point of view, their auspex readout told them they were routing us and sending the governor’s forces on a disarrayed retreat. We had deployed a complex mix of false readings and sacrificial dummy units to make the ploy look as convincing as possible. Hopefully the fog of war, combined with the endless supply of smoke in the actual battlefield could last long enough for the deception to work.

I watched in my vision as the thousands of pieces moved slowly into position, pushing the grand rebel army further and further into a tactically unsalvageable position.

Suddenly there was a rapid stream of notifications indicating a surge of intercepted vox messages coming from the rebel army. Curious, I dipped my consciousness into the stream to sample the contents and a massive amount of information came passing through me.

Mixed within reports of coordination and engagements were the personal messages from the rebel army. What is this? They had broken their vox discipline? Not sure why but a flurry of personalised vox messages started appearing on the field.

Here was a father telling his children to behave if he did not return, there a son was calling his parents not to worry about him because they were winning, another confessed her love to a colleague and asked for a chance for dinner should he return. Like a slow summer phantom rain, the trickle of private vox messages went through me. It drizzled slowly at first, then steadily it gained momentum, more and more messages came forth until it poured like a tropical storm.

Again and again, similar messages and patterns kept repeating themselves. Parents and children worried about one another, friends wishing luck amongst peers, lovers calling out to each other. Hundreds of thousands of people were voxing out what could have been their messages if they never met one another again. The after taste of the data stream started flooding and formed an image of the combined soul of the army staring back at me. Their messages were so mundane, so ordinary... They are just ordinary people .

Oh hi! Mortality my old friend, long time no see .

Chapter 27: GRAND ARMY

Chapter Text

* * *

Chapter 28: GRAND TRAP

Chapter Text

An emergency virtual meeting was held just before the biggest engagement with the rebel army happened. Holographic busts of all the important people were arranged in a circle as the urgent discussion went down on virtual space.

‘Chaos cultists? And a blasphemous ritual utilising departing souls as fuel to open up a warp portal and summon daemons on my planet?!’ Khatalina voiced her disbelief, the level of shock she experienced shattered the joy she had experienced earlier today.

‘The ritual site appears to have quite a formidable defence with void shield generators, orbital bombardment won’t work. Inquisitor Thorn had tapped into the rapid response force we had reserved for the renegade Astartes to deal with the cultists, he and his team are heading towards the site as we speak. But the target destination is quite a distance away, it will take one and a half standard Terran hours just for the strike force to reach there.’ Kryptorer notified.

‘So, this was why my lady was pushing for a peaceful resolution, your boundless foresight and wisdom astounds us,’ praised Canoness Diadinah with a bow and the rest of the palatines followed suit, but I was feeling unwell and we had no time for these “sasuga” shenanigans, so I quickly and lightly brushed off the compliments and brought the topic back to its course.

‘We are but moments away from engaging the main rebel army, and as outrageous as it sounds… our main priority now is to scale down the potential casualties for both sides before the ritual is dealt with. Fortunately, I had brainstormed with Dominus Cykell before on such matters and we had come up with some solutions to minimise casualties on both sides.’ I summarized.

‘I will have to respectfully disagree on that statement.’ Surprisingly, Kryptorer refuted me and he continued, ‘almost all of these solutions were solely pushed by you in one of our much earlier discussions, I take no credit for such extreme approaches to nonlethal resolutions. Bless the Omnissiah these could now be applied to our current situation, largely thanks to your foresight.’

* * *

A makeshift system had been set up, enabling Kryptorer to share targeting data acquired from the Mechanicus’ sophisticated sensors with all friendly units. Such features enabled the governor’s forces to operate optimally even under the heavy cover of smoke screens, firing anti-tank rounds at the maximum distance to disable more rebel tanks.

With me keeping tabs of their command chatter and providing a god’s point of view over the entire battlefield to direct resources, we were able to outgun the rebels despite the majority of our forces being less capable in actual combat performance, putting up a fierce fight against the rebels' armour advances with all our stacked up advantages.

‘So… what are they playing at? Are we being toyed with!?’

Thus another really weird battle went underway. Already outranging the standard las guns by a huge margin and equipped with advanced optics, the rangers went to work, subjecting the rebel troops with pinpoint accurate small arms fire before they even had the chance to shoot back.

Some troopers had reported having been shot at by the Sororitas. However, the bolter rounds always just exploded inches from their feet, cementing the notion they were only firing “warning shots” but could kill them anytime if the sisters wished.

This continued for a while until Lord General Luthor von Norden’s frustration reached a feverish point, soon he had called for a vox meeting with all his generals to decide on the next course of action.

‘On that front, we will be ready soon. Of all the immobilised units a small portion were managed to be repaired on the field.’

‘Good! Give the orders, we will be moving out soon.’

My strength and focus were rapidly slipping away. Meanwhile, the mad general was hell-bent on sending his entire army on a desperate mission for personal vendetta and would be starting his suicide run soon.

Chapter 29: BEAUTIFUL WORLD

Chapter Text

…

<Play Beautiful World.mp3.>

……

…

~ Beautiful world, beautiful boy ~

Chapter 30: SOMETHING CAME FORTH

Chapter Text

Leave it alone?
Leave it be... No, kill it!
LEAVE IT BE.
KILL IT!

‘Throne on Terra saves us all…’ Inquisitor Thaberus watched with unconcealed horror at the trail of carnage left by something truly massive. Along the path of wanton destruction it had left behind were the entrails of its many victims and vague chunks of human remains.

Premonition: Something had arrived, something huge. An angry twisted thing, a thing that should not have existed in this world. Its existence should not have been possible but a price was paid. Be warned, it is here to seek you out. You, yes, you with their anathema’s bloodline. Now an equal or greater price must be paid to see it gone or this world of man will die. Again, you are its target and the key to its banishment…

…

……

Damn it.
THRONE DAMNED IT.

Chapter 31: DESTINY CALLS

Chapter Text

Chapter 32: THE DUEL

Chapter Text

Chapter 33: SHOWDOWN

Chapter Text

Time slowed. My thought acceleration seemed to benefit from my charged up state, but all I could see was the massive warp spawn with its reality distortion field bearing down on me in the rain with absolute detail.

My body became hot, then cold as all the energy gathered on my left hand. Time slowed further as instinct compelled me to raise my left palm towards the approaching daemon.

Be gone!

My world became silent and pure white.

Chapter 34: FINAL BEATDOWN

Chapter Text

<++ Accessing machine spirit via ethernet link ++>

Chapter 35: AFTERMATH

Chapter Text

The light rain was still drizzling during the night when an Aquila lander touched down at the primary landing pad of the monastery fortress, where Kryptorer Cykell was already waiting with a squad of Skitarii rangers.

The lone passenger stepped out of the vehicle and proceeded to greet the unmoving dominus. The newcomer looked to be a heavily augmented tech-priest, however he was dwarfed both in stature and status by the inviting host.<Greetings, Arch Dominus Cykell. I, Magos Balpradus Aukank, arrived as summoned. Glory to the Omnissiah, your swift campaign of subjugating the rebels was glorious and indeed blessed by the Machine-God.>

<If His Will be done, let it be done quickly. The short campaign was indeed blessed. Unfortunately, there was a complication. Magos Balpradus, your talent is needed, follow me.>

They started walking, leaving the escorting rangers as they went through multiple security checkpoints together. Balpradus observed the curious mix of Mechanicus and Sororitas personnel around. As they got into a lift and started descending, his curiosity finally got the better of him, <Dominus, may I enquire what are we doing in the Sororitas monastery and which exact field of expertise do you require from me?>

<Specifically, we need advice from an expert on transhumanism and you are the best Magos Biologis on the planet. We are here because of a very important patient.><Patient?>

<Yes, patient. Ask no more, all will be revealed.>The lift reached its designated floor and the door opened. They were greeted by more security elements but with Kryptorer leading, none dared to bar the duo. Eventually, they reached a huge blast door manned by more guards. To Balpradus’ surprise, an inquisitor was also waiting with his retinue.

One of the retinue, a psyker by his appearance, stepped forward and lightly probed the magos. Satisfied with the result, the psyker nodded to the inquisitor and stepped back.

It was after that the trench coat wearing inquisitor acknowledged Balpradus. ‘Well met, Magos. Stringent security is required with what is at stake. I am Inquisitor Thaberus Thorn of the Ordo Hereticus. You will be given access to information classified under Vermilion level Imperial clearance. Leaking any information on what we are about to show you will render yourself an immediate enemy of the Imperium. This warning will not be repeated.’

Before Balpradus could even organise his thoughts, they went through the blast door. Inside was a medical operation theatre of sorts, with an assortment of advanced equipment. At the centre of it all was a bed swarmed by a myriad of personnel tending to an unconscious form of a female human with an oxygen mask on her face.<That is the patient?>

<Yes, transferring her medical records to you now.>

Balpradus checked the datasheet he received and started analysing it while they walked. When the augmentation column was read, the shock he experienced almost tripped him over. Written in bold letters on the said column was but two words: Primarch Minoris.

<Dominus! This… specification is no mistake?>

<Confirmed. The patient herself disclosed that detail to an aide, and that record was triple checked. You can double-check her physiology on that point yourself.>With a quivering mind, Balpradus quickly went through the rest of the datasheet and realised the reason he was summoned. It appeared the patient had received critical injuries, multiple internal hemorrhaging and organ inflammations were detected, but no one knew how to proceed with the treatment process since the patient’s transhumanism was so advanced she was practically another species.

<Do you understand now?><I understand, please allow me to access all detailed medical readings and records.>

Some time later, Balpradus had gone through all the data and had a hunch on what was going on. <Dominus, I have reached an unlikely hypothesis on how to improve the patient’s condition.>

* * *

I was in a void.
No time, no space, no body. Just pure consciousness.

Am I dead for real this time?

No.Wait, who was that?

It is me.

Who is ‘me’?

That line gets blurry, doesn’t it?

Syrine, is that you?Yes, it is me, or you. It is complicated.

You were inside all along? Come out and settle this mess.

I can’t, otherwise, I won’t call for you.

Huh, you saw everything?

Yes.

… So how did I do?

Impressive, much better than I ever hoped for.

I have to ask, why do you need my help in the first place?That, I cannot share with you now.Why?

It might break you.

…

…

Say, what would happen if I had refused to help back then?

I am curious too, want to see?A vision appeared, we went back in time to the psychic beacon’s activation. Deep in the inner sanctum back to where it all began, unable to secure a soul link, Syrine would fall into a deep coma when the rebels attacked. Without my intervention, Amael and Kantor were doused by the flamer and proceeded to be gunned down while covered in flames. In the proceeding gunfight, things got a lot more dangerous for my other associates and Alicya lost an eye during the battle.

Thaberus and Kryptorer would still arrive in time and clean up the fight but they never reconciled due to the heavy losses incurred. Herlindya would take over as Thaberus’ interrogator, but her demeanour changed completely after witnessing the charred remains of Amael. She went semi-berserk and executed some of the rebels herself. Apparently, she and the interrogator were more than just colleagues.

After that mess was sorted, Syrine would be sent to the Sororitas monastery for medical care. There they would find out about her primarch physiology.

Stricken with the grief of letting their Holy Daughter down, Alicya forfeited her position of probationary palatine and volunteered to become a repentia to repent her sins of failing.
Meanwhile, Thaberus would continue his investigations without Kryptorer’s aid. Running low on time and letting a vengeful Herlindya take charge of some of the investigations, he ended up ruffling some feathers amongst the loyalist forces.

The massive battle broke out as before. Even without having access to Syrine’s authority, Khatalina’s forces aided by the Adeptus Mechanicus still managed to wrestle the advantage from the rebels by adapting a no-mercy approach. Alicya would lead one of the most crucial charges into rebels, never to be seen again.

The bloodshed was horrendous, hundreds of thousands died on both sides as a far more crude and brutal version of the trap was sprung. Fuelled by the massive surge of souls of the deceased, the chaos cult’s secret ritual successfully opened a huge portal and a massive wave of daemons soon swarmed the planet.

Realising the heretics’ scheme too late, the surviving imperials fought a losing war while more and more warp spawns were summoned through the portal. When the calculus concluded there was no way to hold the grim tide anymore, Kryptorer launched a desperate mission deep into the inner sanctum to retrieve the technological treasures sealed deep underneath the beacon .

Even with the support of all his advanced cogitators, Kryptorer could not bypass the extreme security put in place by the Emperor and his attempt triggered multiple cataclysmic explosions on site, obliterating half of the planet outright, and destroying the psychic beacon along with the unknown treasures stored within.

In the frenzy of the world’s final moments, amongst the billions of people on the planet, only a few thousand managed to escape the dying world. Thaberus would return onboard his inquisitorial strike cruiser, the Unrelenting Vigilance. There he would officially sign the death warrant for Nusquam and declare the imperial world damned and lost. The final nail to the coffin was hammered in by executing Exterminatus on the broken planet.

On the surface of the dying planet, a newly ascended daemon prince credited with the deaths of billions rose from the hellish inferno, only to watch his new kingdom burn to cinders around him.

With everything dead and gone, the surviving imperial ships escaped into the surrounding darkness. Meanwhile, the void ships that were halfway travelling to Nusquam would arrive only to be greeted by a planetary graveyard. This region of space will probably never see the light of the Emperor ever again.

I watched as everything faded to the void again, shaken and half expected the [Regalis] messages to appear, but everything went quiet.

That did not happen.

Throne damned it! You scared the hell out of me! That was extremely unpleasant to watch.

…

You seem to be fading.

You are waking up, I can only reach you in this state.Wait, don’t go! I have so many questions.

There is a lot I cannot share with you.

At least tell me where were you during the last 10,000 years? And whatever happened between you and the Big E?

I was being sealed away most of that time. Big E? Is that a nickname of my father? I can try to show you, but it will be unpleasant.

Show me.

…

SHOW ME.

Very well.

Chapter 36: NEW DAWN

Chapter Text

Is this Syrine’s memory?

I regained vision and my sense of having a body returned but it was moving on its own. It was near pitch black but my transhuman eyesight picked up the infrared light and I moved like a ghost in a very dark and ominous tunnel leading into an eternal looking void. While running, I managed to catch glimpses of my hands, they were delicate looking appendages. This was definitely her memory.

Suddenly she leapt over an unseen edge in total darkness, it was so abrupt I wanted to scream but no sound came out. Cold air rushed by and she did what seemed to be an impossible landing on another ledge with me watching it from a first-person view.

* * *

Welminah bolted up from her bed with a muffled scream, the immediate sensation she felt was the unbearable chill biting into her skin. In the delirium of her half-awakened state, she struggled to recall if the temperature control of her room had been tampered with.

The scholar took in a few quick breaths before realising the reason for the plummeting warmth, her room had stayed the same but she was drenched in sweat and her nightgown was soaked through.

She uttered some silent prayers, took in a few more deep breaths to control her ragged breathing before dragging herself to the water closet.

Feeling better after dousing her face with cold water, Welminah slowly raised her head and had a proper look at the mirror. A horrible visage of her own reflection stared back and the first thing she noticed was that her eyes were all red.

The last time Welminah remembered seeing her eyes in this shade of red was after she bawled her eyes out as a result of receiving harsh disciplinary action from a sister superior. She was still a novitiate then and had did something stupid, that was more than a decade ago.

For a few days now whenever Welminah closed her eyes a series of tormenting images kept appearing before her. That day, in the aftermath of a duel not meant for mortal eyes, their once vibrant Holy Daughter was found in a nightmarish landscape covered in mud, looking lifeless with dried blood all over her face.

Verrita and the others had sprung into action. After determining Syrine was just barely alive, there was this mad scramble of all available resources to send her to the closest complete medical bay located at the Sororitas fortress monastery.

Welminah, being neither a hospitaller nor having any useful skill to contribute at that time could only watch helplessly from the sideline. She had felt nothing but numbness at those crucial moments.

Now, the scholar felt as if that indescribable feeling of helplessness together with the unforgettable scenes had been seared into her soul, slowly eating her from the inside out.

As a Dialogus scholar attached to the Order of the Shining Beacon, Welminah had dreamt of meeting the Holy Daughter ever since she was introduced to the prophecy. A thousand years had passed since the prophecy was first mentioned, countless dialogus sisters had gone before her waiting for such a privilege and the truth was Welminah had never expected it was during her time that it became true.

For a brief moment in time, Welminah had the mental image of a future where she would quietly grow old, raising the next generation of Adepta scholars and passing the prophecy down to them.

Admittedly that mirage of a quiet life was shattered as one dramatic event unfolded one after another, and things went downhill pretty fast from there. First, her mentor had suddenly passed away in her prime, leaving Welminah as the de facto scholar in charge of handling their Order’s records regarding the prophecy despite her junior position. Then the civil war broke out, throwing her relatively stable universe into a world of disarray.

As the junior scholar was learning to navigate this new world of uncertainties, out of the blue the canoness had ordered her to accompany the newly promoted probationary Palatine Alicya to verify her claim of a newly surfaced candidate for the prophesied Holy Daughter.

Welminah was sceptical at first since the Alicya she personally knew could be such a hot head at times and it was not the first time the Order had dealt with such possibilities only to be proven false later.

While on their way to the Fortress, Alicya shared her story and it intrigued Welminah. The candidate’s tragic loss of memory during the dramatic gunfight at the inner sanctum was something Welminah could not wrap her mind around, it felt like there was more to the story so she waited with bated breath to meet with this mysterious figure.

When Welminah finally met Syrine she still could not wrap her mind around what she saw. The candidate exuded a level of presence that could only be described as saintly, but her ultra-casual demeanour towards the sisters carried none of the gravitas one would be expecting from a fabled true daughter of the Emperor.

As a scholar, Welminah had counted no less than five violations of basic etiquette broken by the candidate on the first time they had met. Syrine had openly greeted Alicya cheerfully back then, it was a very basic knowledge in high society proper greetings should be initiated by the lower-ranking individual even in a private setting, surely the Emperor’s daughter should know better?

Welminah’s mind had gone blank as she processed all the information that was laid before her. The fact that Syrine had still maintained her casual stance made the scholar’s reality even more jarring on that day.

A sister of the mythical primarchs, a true daughter of the Emperor of Mankind. The scholar had read all that she could about the primarchs, barring those who were labelled heretical anyway. To Welminah they were such aloof figures, they might as well be just pure legends than historical facts if not for the plentiful of statues around that constantly reminded them such beings once walked amongst mortals.

All the primarchs she knew were larger than life figures, sons of their God-Emperor and super-superhuman in more ways than one. They led legions of space marines on a galaxy-spanning crusade and brought countless worlds into the embrace of Imperium.

And here was a person who could be a younger sister of the mythical primarchs and she was interacting with them like peers bantering in a postgraduate ceremony.

Feeling totally out of her depth, the scholar reported back to Canoness Diadinah what she saw, praying to the Emperor himself she was not making a colossal mistake.

Finally the meeting between Syrine and the holiest relic of their Order, the Nameless Sword happened. Any lingering doubts were burned away by the pure blue flame manifesting on the sword illuminated by the golden halo of their Holy Daughter.

It was then that Welminah saw for the first time the true brilliance of Syrine. Despite clearly not operating at her full capacity, the Holy Daughter quickly orchestrated cooperation between the Sororitas, the Mechanicus and the inquisition with an ingenious plan to deal with the uprising rebels.

The sight of various imperial establishments famous for their internal squabbles coming together and working seamlessly under Syrine’s leadership for a common goal was breathtaking.

The scholar was watching from the side, dazzled.

From the information she gathered, it was understood the combined might that had gathered under Syrine could easily annihilate the rebels from the beginning. However instead of taking that easy route, Syrine had gone the extra mile providing many chances of salvation for the misguided fools. The subsequent chaos ritual incident had only further proven Syrine’s seemingly boundless wisdom and foresight, the scholar was sure of it.

In a way, Welminah was stumped, she never would have guessed the Holy Daughter to be so …humane. Being humane, it was a description so rarely used these days even as a scholar she had to triple verify the proper meaning of the word.

Welminah vividly remembered what might be the last time she saw Syrine alive and well, stepping out from a safe zone to face a greater daemon alone. Watching that petite silhouette walking fearlessly into the distance, the scholar believes she caught a glimpse of what could have been a new beginning for their stagnant Imperium.

With such a person glueing the different power factions of the Imperium together... maybe, just maybe things could start to change for the better. A new dawn for their galaxy mired by the never-ending wars, new hope in a sea of endless darkness.

...

Suddenly a familiar buzz broke her stupor, it was her personal communication device and Alicya was shown as the caller.

At this hour? Surely it could not be...

‘Yes?’ she answered with a shaking voice.

‘Welminah! Are you alone?’ Alicya’s anxious voice came through, the tone of her voice bodes ill news.

‘Yes, I am alone, what happened?’

‘Sister,’ Alicya said, ‘stay calm now but I just received special permission to inform you of this. Lady Syrine is…’ Welminah felt like a lightning had struck her, for a split second it felt like an eternity before Alicya’s next word came through, ‘… missing!’

‘....’

‘Welminah? Are you there?’

‘Eh?! Say again? Missing?’

‘Yes, she went missing! I was just notified that her bed was found empty. Kira is freaking out, both the canoness and dominus are furious. The monastery is about to go into full alert and lock down if we do not find her soon. I am heading there now. Just in case, do you happen to know anything about it?’

‘Don’t be absurd! How can so many guards with around-the-clock security not know anything when Lady Syrine had finally awakened and … just walked away?’

‘I will take that as a negative. Alicya out.’

It was only after a while Welminah realised she was hyperventilating and staring blankly at her personal device. So many questions were going through her mind but no answer would ever come if she just stood around.

Impossible as it was, a highly secured patient had gone missing under the nose of numerous guards posted by both Adepta Sororitas and Adeptus Mechanicus after staying in a medical coma for days.

Missing… that would mean Syrine was probably up, alive and walking about. The scholar then recalled the brief glimpse of a new world she had seen and found herself wishing fervently to never lose the chance to witness such a sight again.

I will go find her myself.

Her resolve made, Welminah quickly cleaned herself up, donned her scholar uniform and headed out just as the barest hint of sunlight broke the darkness on the horizon.

Syrine - Into the Grim Darkness of the Far Future. - Fin

Chapter 37: RAISING SAVIOUR SAINT OF NUSQUAM

Chapter Text

PRELUDE

Probationary Palatine Alicya Sabatith found herself preparing to do what was previously unthinkable - guiding yet another psyker into the heart of her monastery. Desperate times had called for desperate measures.

It had been a few days after the conclusion of the Battle for Nusquam, and Alicya watched impassively beside Inquisitor Thaberus as the gunship Flameraven banked and turned expertly before slowly landing on the fortress monastery’s primary landing pad. The powerful downward draft of the gunship caused the robes, coats and purity seal parchments of the people waiting nearby to flutter furiously.

Upon landing, a side door of the Flameraven opened and two figures appeared. An elderly lady gingerly stepped forth, accompanied by a young boy. The pair fumbled slightly down the extended stairs to stand before their hosts.

Alicya took extra note of the slightly hunched old lady who seemed way past her prime, but conceded to the fact that a psyker’s capacity is not dependent on their physical ability. Appearance wise the lady was quite short and not much taller than the accompanying boy. She wore a standard imperial storm coat embellished with an inquisitorial emblem, her eyes were covered behind a pair of round shades while a tall psychic hood rose to loom over her frail features.

‘Master Thaberus,’ the elderly lady began to perform a deep bow towards the trenchcoat wearing inquisitor who waited at the forefront of the group, but her action was cut short by the man himself. The usually stern inquisitor walked over, gently helped up the bowing lady and asked softly, ‘Mei Jie, it has been a while. How are you feeling?’

Surprising Alicya, Inquisitor Thaberus had spoken with a tone more akin to someone meeting a senior member of the family than a master greeting his servant.

‘Thanks to Zaki, the worst has passed. It seems like I will be sticking around to continue my service.’ The old lady replied with a smile while reaching towards the young boy who came with her, but as her hand touched the boy she recoiled suddenly, as if she had just grazed hot metal. ‘Ah, sorry, Zaki,’ she quickly apologised. The little boy, who was wearing a simple grey tunic, merely looked at the old lady with a blank expression and shook his head.

A pariah, Alicya noted.

‘I see his null powers are growing, we might need to get an inhibitor for him soon,’ Thaberus remarked. ‘Come, I will get you acquainted.’ The inquisitor then turned to Alicya and formally introduced the old lady, ‘Palatine Alicya, this is Throne agent Yehai Mei as mentioned in our previous discussions. With her help, we will have a better chance on the second attempt.’

Alicya nodded slightly before ignoring the newcomers. Due to indoctrination, professional indifference was the greatest courtesy she could conjure for them at the moment. The palatine then remarked to Thaberus, ‘I pray for it to work this time too, it has been such a monumental task to have all the parties agree on the procedure in the first place.’

‘Agreed, palatine. We need her back as soon as possible.’ Thaberus nodded and continued, ‘Agent Yehai was in a medically induced coma until recently due to all the happenings. Please see to her well-being while she is here in your care.’

That done, Thaberus left with his party onboard the Flameraven .

* * *

Some time later, in the most secured chamber within the monastery, Alicya observed the gathering of three psykers and noted that while they did not speak much with one another, the relaxed body language of the old lady suggested she was glad to be reunited with Fulton and Tsalieh. They must be communicating telepathically , Alicya realised.

In the aftermath of the greater daemon’s incursion, there had been a flurry of purity tests done on all the important people involved for possible warp taint. The young palatine witnessed how the two psykers were worked to the bone and even with her predisposition against witches, she felt a hint of sympathy for them. Before Alicya realised it, she and most of Inquisitor Thaberus’ party had become fairly acquainted during the gruelling period.

Turning to the heavily augmented figure standing in the middle of the chamber, Alicya asked in a vain hope for new developments. ‘Magos, any changes?’

Magos Balpradus who presided over the procedure replied flatly, ‘None. Despite her being in supposed perfect physical health for more than enough time, she still shows no signs of waking up.’ He then turned to Sister Hospitaller Veritta who was standing nearby. ‘All key personnel are present, we are ready to begin the second attempt.’

‘Throne willing, we will have better luck this time and wake her up from the inside,’ Veritta Kern who was overseeing the event for the inquisition remarked solemnly.

Moments later, Alicya observed the ongoing procedure with her arms crossed. From her point of view, all she could see was the three psykers gathered behind the Holy Daughter on her bed. Both Fulton and Tsalieh had one hand each holding onto the shoulder of Yehai. The old lady was the only one who had both her hands lightly touching Syrine’s temples, and they had been at it for quite some time now.

While Alicya could not see what was really going on, judging by the strained expressions of all the psykers and the perspiration gathering on their foreheads, she suspected it was not going smoothly at all. The palatine also noted with mild discomfort as the air inside the chamber seemed to grow thicker with each passing moment.

Then the uneasy silence was broken by Balpradus’ unexpected announcement. ‘The patient is exhibiting unusual brain wave patterns.’ Before Alicya could decide whether that was good news or bad, she noticed the psykers starting to shiver with even heavier perspiration.

Is that normal? Alicya wanted to ask but the temperature inside the chamber abruptly plummeted. Alarmed by the unexpected event, the palatine looked to the sister hospitaller who was supposedly more experienced in such procedures and saw Veritta’s unconcealed surprised face, and then - BAAAM!

There was a bright flash accompanied by a shock wave, sending the psykers and medical tools flying. Veritta screamed as a thin layer of frost formed instantly inside the medical bay, rapidly covering the floor and most surfaces except for Syrine and her bed.

Alicya had raised her gloved hand just in time to shield her face from the blast. With clenched teeth she peeked into the direction of Syrine, and to her horror witnessed a misty figure forming above the unmoving Holy Daughter. Alicya silently cursed all the people who had assured the safety of the procedure and reached for her bolt pistol, but froze as she started to recognise the solidifying figure.

Wait, this … this couldn’t be! Alicya’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Trembling, she took a quick glance and confirmed that the pentagrammic wards that were installed inside the chamber by the inquisition were still intact. This was no warp breach. The frozen marble rang crisply as Alicya dropped to her armoured knees, and hers were not the only one as the sound of robed and armoured knees falling to the floor echoed in the whole chamber.

Alerted by the loud commotion, the Celestian squad guarding just outside the door stormed in with weapons raised, but upon witnessing the scene inside, the elite sisters too lowered their weapons and fell to their knees.

Everyone flinched at the accusatory tone from the sovereign of their species, and in response some bowed their heads so hard they were slamming their foreheads onto the ground. Most if not all were trembling uncontrollably, Alicya included.

Just as they were expecting divine retribution, the manifestation together with the sudden frost quickly dissolved into the air, leaving a chamber of bewildered Imperials. Alicya blinked, and then blinked again to confirm the phenomenon had ended. Breathing heavily, she slowly picked herself up from the floor, her sight refusing to leave the spot where He had once been.

The palatine remained stunned for a few more seconds before snapping back to her senses, and together with Veritta she hurried to Syrine, finding the Holy Daughter still unresponsive but otherwise unharmed. The hospitaller quickly went through a series of checks on Syrine before giving Alicya a quick nod, signalling everything was fine.

Sighing with relief, Alicya asked, ‘Magos, status of the Holy Daughter?’ The tech-priest, who was standing utterly still during the whole event, uttered some binary before looking at his instruments, and after a while he gave a metallic reply.

‘Her status has reverted back to preprocedure.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Confirmed, palatine.’

Alicya took another deep breath before walking towards the psykers who were still sprawled on the floor. She reached for the man by his collar, pulling him up and finding herself practically shouting with a hoarse voice, ‘what in the name of Throne was that? Explain it to me now!’

The dazed psyker, blood flowing down from his nose and ears, simply held up his hands but did not reply. It was Yehai who coughed an answer on his behalf. ‘A moment please, sister. I can explain.’

After being helped up by Tsalieh, the aged psyker took a moment to tidy up herself and went before Syrine. She bowed deeply and whispered for forgiveness before talking in a shaky voice. ‘We weren’t strong enough. Even with the three of us, our combined effort was like a breeze blowing at a fortress gate. We could not get in. So, we changed our approach. We pushed and pushed on her mental wall until a ripple was created, then we peeled at the highest point of that ripple with all our strength to look inside, but everything bounced back.’

‘And that created what we saw just now?’ Alicya pressed.

By the Emperor’s grace, please come back to us, Holy Daughter.

Chapter 38: V2 CH.1 MEMORY

Chapter Text

In a world where the Dark Gods literally exist, are atheists the flat-earthers of the grim dark universe?

Alone in the darkness, she continued to run.

Experiencing Syrine's memory from a first person view, my vision was illuminated by the barest of lights as she continued her lonesome journey through a long and dark passage. All around I saw sophisticated piping, wires and panels crawling on every wall surface available. Everything looked high-tech yet the extreme dilapidated state of the whole place reminded me of the inside of an ancient tomb.

Looking at the incongruous scene of what could only be described as a fantastic ruin, I was struck by the possibility that this place might carry more historical weight than the old wonders of the world from my time. As I pondered on these unsettling notions, Syrine's soft footsteps continued to echo in the endless darkness, her anticipation increasing with every step.

The journey through the passages eventually ended as she reached her destination, a dimly lit clearing in the middle of nowhere. Whatever they were using as illuminators had survived the ages, a testament to the level of technological sophistication achieved by the people who built this place.

As Syrine stepped into the dim light I glimpsed down and was shocked to see a dirty rag covering her frame. Even with the limitations of a first person view I could tell she was clearly a child at this point in time. She looked surprisingly frail and even borderline malnourished, not in the slightest state to hint at her status of being a transhuman heiress of a galactic empire.

Oblivious to my observations from the future, she continued walking, looking for a perfect spot. While the place did not look out of the ordinary, an impression from her memory informed me it was a carefully calculated location after many trials and tribulations.

Eventually she selected a spot to sit down on the cold stone floor, brushing random rocks away as she did so. Her mind was still hot with anticipation as a vivid thought imprint seeped into me.Finallyafter all this time, I can talk to my father again. She soon settled down into a controlled breathing rhythm.

There was a brief moment of disorientation, and I suddenly found myself looking down at a girl from a slight elevation and almost freaked out, that was until I recognised the platinum hair.Syrine? But how?

It took a moment before I realised what happened. This must be a form of astral projection. As far as I knew, a certain famous inquisitor who was bound in a life sustaining armoured chair used this technique a lot. I could not help but feel flustered again as I realised just how little I knew of her capabilities. I need to ask her for a comprehensive list when the next chance comes around. While I was making a mental note on this issue a floating feeling took over and my view started levitating up, she was moving.

As her consciousness drifted upwards, she looked up and an incredible sight came into view. For a moment, I could not comprehend what I was seeing. Above was the rapidly approaching ceiling, but beyond it with my psychic sense I could clearly see a dark void with many shining, blinking lights. In the middle of it all was a titanic, blinding ball of light. For the lack of better words, it was like looking at a very large sun in the night sky.

My mind quivered at the eerie sight but Syrine was unperturbed and continued to climb upwards. Soon her consciousness flew into the solid looking ceiling and passed through it like a ghost. Layers and layers of rocks, earth and unknown material were soon whisking by, but the strange psychic sight remained in view.

Syrine continued to climb, getting closer and closer to the still distant radiance until suddenly something barred her way forward. Like hitting an invisible wall on a no-clip flight, something stopped her ascent. This seemed to be within her expectation as Syrine showed no signs of being surprised. She looked longingly at the huge ball of light for a few seconds before going the other way, towards the other shimmering but much smaller lights on the other far end.

As she moved closer towards those lights in the distance, it felt like deja vu as if I had seen lights like these before. Digging into my memory, a single mental image emerged, it was the astropath when I entered a psychically active state for the first time.

So all these are souls of psykers?

It was then that I recalled an old lore of this universe, it mentioned that powerful psykers shone like stars in the immaterium. Looking closer, those small shining lights did remind me of Arradus the astropath I had witnessed in my psychically active state. All those shining little lights were psykers in the distance, and they all had a different degree of brightness. Supposedly the more powerful they were the brighter they shone.

I then looked back at the huge ball of light in the far distance and had an epiphany.That meant… my mind froze as I realised what, or rather who, the titanic ball of light was all along. Dwarfing all the others by his sheer magnitude of power, glowing like a supernova in the darkness of the psychic space could be only one person – the Emperor, the Master of Mankind, Big-E himself.

While my mind shuddered at the realisation, Syrine had finally moved close enough to the cluster of lights for me to see them properly. Men, women and even children of all ages were clustered together, their souls flickering in the void.

As Syrine flew into the throng of glowing souls, the details of her plan seeped into me. There was a powerful barrier blocking the way forward so she planned to go through it by attaching herself onto another mind. Looking around, she soon found a target with the correct resonance and dove into the mind of a girl. Instead of taking over, she hid herself behind the host's lethargic mind and waited.

The girl whose mind Syrine had latched on was unaware of what happened and continued on her journey. She continued to walk for a long time until she approached the barrier.

Just when the girl was about to cross the barrier, Syrine forgot herself and became… Naloria Jarius, and the memories from the host started pouring over. Naloria, no, I was born on an agricultural world and lived a mundane life.

One day I started manifesting weird powers, it started as a silly thing and the local priest took notice. Soon some powerful people arrived and I was picked up by a ship from the sky. Little was said and nothing was explained but I was going off world, it was exciting yet scary at the same time.

That was when the nightmare started, everything was a blur but I knew we travelled for a long time on board a starship. There were others who were like me on the ship but I never saw them. Sometimes in my delirious confinement I could hear whispers, most were gibberish and curses. Amongst the voices there was one which kept saying we were heading towards Holy Terra, but I doubted it since the Throne world was so far away and even wealthy pilgrims were known to die while waiting for their turn to visit the birthplace of Imperium.

Finally the starship arrived at its destination. After making it to the surface of the unknown planet and participating in more tests, I and the others were moved to a featureless facility. It was huge and we had been walking for a while now. My feet ached, my feeble limbs were shaking with exhaustion. The excitement had long since died, I was scared and wanted very much to just go home, but I no longer even remember what home looked like…

Barrier passed. It worked.

I stepped forward into the light, the depthless power in this space filled me with unease, it felt like sacrilege just to be here. I gazed into the blinding and pulsing lights and called out in point blank range.

+Father.+

No reply, so I tried again.

+FATHER! I am here!+

Again nothing happened. I was about to attempt a third time when suddenly the pulsing of lights stopped for a microsecond before the space around me exploded with psychic wind. With that, an impossible voice spoke, +who?+

He responded!I shivered with joy upon recognising the voice that reverberated from everywhere. Before I could respond further, the titanic globe of psychic light snapped into focus and glowed brighter still. It was like witnessing a sentient sun waking up. Immediately my surroundings shook as an ultra dense psychic pressure hit me like a truck.

I was stunned by the impact and got pushed back out into the void. With some difficulties I regained my bearings to witness an impression of a man forming at the core of the blinding radiance. I trembled with equal parts anticipation and astonishment as the visage of an impressive figure started to solidify.

It was a tall, towering man encased in an impossibly imperious golden armour. Motifs of proud-looking double-headed eagles were edged all over the emerging armoured form that was wreathed in a holy aura. There were impressions of long, black straight hair flowing from a head obscured in a blinding halo. I tried to make out the emerging figure's face but could not make out any features, it was like staring into the sun.

+Father?+

The figure did not reply.

+Father. It is me, Syrine.+

I called out again while raising my astral arm in a vain attempt to reduce the incoming pressure. An unfathomable amount of psychic power was gathering around the figure. I shuddered at the unimaginable gap between us, the sheer magnitude of power difference was like comparing a light bulb to the sun.

I knew the figure was looking at me, His attention alone burned, yet that was nothing compared to what came next. With a voice like a chorus of a million people, He gazed at me without any hint of recognition while dropping a world-shattering statement in an angry tone.

+YOUR PRESENCE HERE IS NOT AUTHORISED.+

Chapter 39: V2 CH.2 REVELATIONS

Chapter Text

My father did not recognise me.

The shocking realisation plunged me from my ecstatic state about the reunion to utter horror. Up until now, to be able to talk to my father again was the only thing that had kept me going in this strange and twisted world.

+Father…?+

I tried again but in vain to get through to him. The concentration of psychic power around the golden figure had grown so dense it now caused flashes of arcane lightning to manifest. In the next instance I felt a chill as His gaze became positively hostile.

Before I could react the pressure around me suddenly intensified, crushing my astral form. Pinned by His powers, I could not move as the suffocating pressure continued to increase until it became painful, and then the pain became molten hot.

+FATHER!+ I desperately cried out, but there was no reply. Just as I started to feel like being burned from the inside out, a bright beam shot out from the golden figure and what felt like the combined brightness of a thousand suns bore into me.

I screamed soundlessly, and my lonely life flashed before my eyes. For the longest time everything I knew was from that incubation chamber. The learning, the yearning, the waiting and more waiting to be useful, to serve my father and His empire. And now it felt like the end, I believed this was my final moment as the torment became unbearable and felt my very essence begin to melt and disintegrate.

But it is fine, without my father’s recognition, I…

Suddenly the intense brightness subsided and pressure disappeared. I was left floating, dazed and in excruciating agony. Forcing myself to look up, I saw the blinding figure was motionless but observing. This was reminiscent of the first time I met Him.

Finally, He spoke again.

+You… number twenty one.+

Twenty one?

Unaware of my assigned number, I tried to process the revelation while wincing through the pain. He finally recognised me?

+I remember now. I had locked you away myself.+ He continued coldly.

+Father… + Trembling in pain, I only managed to whimper.

+How are you here? Did you betray me too?+

Shocked by his sudden accusation of treachery, my thoughts went blank. Receiving no response, He reached out and in the next instance I felt my mind being pried open by an overwhelming force. Another session of tormenting pain commenced as my life flashed before me again, every thought, every emotion I ever had was laid bare before the psychic interrogation. Like an unimpressed reader flipping through a book, He saw everything.

Finally, the stranglehold on my mind was released and He spoke again. +Twenty one, experimental weapon. Abandoned project.+ Despite being delirious from the mental torture, I flinched at the implications of his statement.

Abandoned weapon? Was I just that all along?

I was finally reunited with my creator but never felt so lost. Many thoughts went through my shell-shocked mind, but one thing had become apparent.

He is insane.

Just as a sense of suffocating numbness was taking over, I suddenly recalled the mention of others. Was He referring to my many brothers? Whatever happened to them all? Were they ever treated like this? I wanted to know.

I NEED TO KNOW.

Seeing a sliver of psychic link that was used for my interrogation still existed, even in my agonising state a dangerous curiosity took over. I peeked at the towering golden figure, confirmed His attention was still totally elsewhere and decided to take a risk. Holding onto our connection, I tried to replicate what He did on the mind reading and -

The world went blinding white, then came darkness. An incredible sense of omnipotence took over as my view broadened to countless worlds and human souls. I lost myself as my consciousness was stretched thin across a colossal distance and saw everything.

I saw a galaxy, His empire, the Imperium of Man.

In the depthless void of space millions of great ships travelled, most were toiling on deliveries but a large number were exchanging city-killing firepower against countless enemies. Enemies of different breeds that surrounded the galaxy-spanning Imperium on all sides, that threatened it from within as well as without. A sense of perpetual suffering permeated throughout the Imperium as dozens of apocalyptic wars could be felt happening this very moment.

My consciousness further focused onto the scene. As I got closer, the numberless viewpoints that were too vast for my mind narrowed down. I saw thousands of worlds where humans were fighting other humans, aliens and mutants. Countless armies were waging wars across the galaxy. Repulsed and morbidly curious in equal measures at the carnage on display, I kept getting closer until I immersed myself through the eyes of these people.

I was a guardsman, frantically blasting green skin aliens with my squad in a trench flooded with relentless rain. The las beams from my weapon hit their mark, but the tide of aliens still pushed through the line. A large brute climbed into the trench near me, cutting down Sergeant Thane with a brutal swing and came at me next. I dodged its attack, but more aliens were pouring into the trench. There was no escape. I rolled on the ground and just managed to pull the pin off my grenade before receiving a slash to my face.

I was a citizen caught in the crossfire between the planetary defence force and an insurgency, bleeding out on the battered street of the sub-sector’s capital city.

I was a crusader, blocking incoming fire with a raised stormshield as I took my last stand in a besieged temple on a fringe world.

I was a mother, holding onto my child as Drukhari raiders burst through the door of my apartment, gunning down people while laughing maniacally to begin their slaughter.

There were countless defeats, but also innumerable victories.

I was an inquisitor, leading my retinues as I charged into the heretical mob and splitting the skull of a cult leader with my thunder hammer in a flurry of fury and lightning.

I was a space marine of the White Scars Chapter, riding with my brothers. My ivory coloured gauntlet turned, gunning my war bike at full throttle straight into a squad of Eldar warriors, flattening the slender aliens before they could even react. The other aliens in the xenos warhost turned to us with weapons raised. I screamed my war cry, ‘for Jaghatai Khan and the Emperor!’ and charged.

Jaghatai Khan?

Jaghatai Khan, a primarch, number five, brother, missing. The answers came instantly through my connection with Him. Evidence of my siblings’ existence jolted my sense of self back from the abyss.

Primarchs, brothers, where are they?

Lost, dead, damned. No more. Only their scions are left, the Astartes, space marines.

Instinctively I sought them out, shifting my focus onto more astartes, more… space marines. Scions of primarchs, legacy of my brothers.

I was a Grey knight of the Sixth Brotherhood, finishing off a warp monstrosity in a ruined monastery. The Nemesis force sword in my hand swung down, beheading the defeated daemon in one clean sweep. The foul horned head rolled on the cracked marble floor, dragging a trail of ichor behind it before disintegrating near the battered body of Justicar Solas. Injured in multiple places, I knelt down and looked around, just in time to notice a pale young chapel girl peeking from behind a row of pew chairs.

No witnesses allowed, I raised my storm bolter and fired. My purpose was pure, regardless of who my gene father was.

Switch.

I was a shadow, a marine of the Raven’s Watch Chapter. I was gifted and could hide in plain sight like my gene father, Corvus Corax.

Corvus Corax, number nineteen, brother, missing.

Utilising my rare gift, I simply walked into the middle of an army headquarters belonging to the enemy, yet none noticed me as I stood next to the enemy leader. I watched as the fool committed his entire army into our trap.

Just as the enemy leader’s confident expression turned to horror as the ambush was sprang on his troops, I slit his throat and then proceeded to massacre everyone in the room.

Switch.

I was …

I was wrath, nothing but rage poured forth in my red tinted vision. Everything was a blur as I charged forward in a battlefield of frenzied slaughter, my blood soaked, jet black armoured hands outstretched with murderous intent to kill. To kill a lost brother. But why was my armour black instead of golden?

No matter. For I, Sanguinius, Primarch of the Blood Angels, swear by our father’s name I will end you here, for you are brother of mine no more, Horus Lupercal.

Sanguinius, brother number nine, deceased.

Horus Lupercal, brother number sixteen, deceased.

My brothers were killing each other. Yet confusion arose as I knew from somewhere that … they were long dead. In my heavily distorted vision, like a frenzied predator I leapt forward, ready to rip into a blurry figure when suddenly the world froze as if time had stopped. Huh? A distinct feeling of something truly massive from the beyond peeking over my shoulder took hold and I realised what happened.

He was here.

Or rather, my father’s attention was here. My hunch was validated in the next instance when a voice sounding like a million chorus rang out in the space. +Number nine? Sixteen?+

Hunkering down, I did not even dare to think. After a while the voice monologued again. +No, just echoes of shadows. Nine is no more, so is sixteen. Nine died a noble death and sixteen, oh sixteen.+

…

+I killed him.+

My father killed one of my brothers? The revelation almost broke my trance but I kept at it. After a while the feeling of being spied upon disappeared, He had moved on and time abruptly resumed like an unpaused movie.

In the vision, I plunged into the previously blurred figure, ripping into the body of a panic stricken mortal man. With brute force I grabbed the man’s heart and ripped it out whole from his ribs. The sophisticated temperature sensors in my gauntlet registered the warmth of my victim’s blood as the sanguine fluid poured forth like leaks from a ruptured pipe.

Watching the copious amount of blood flowing, I regained mental clarity. I was no primarch, merely a Death Company marine of the Blood Angels who had failed, failed in my vigil on keeping the black rage at bay. This would be my final mission, I looked at the messy flesh that was still beating in my hand, then the rage took over again.

Just before the heart was crushed, I decided that I had seen enough. Conjuring all my mental might, I forcefully retracted my astral self. I knew the risk of harsh psychic feedback and it might even trigger a barrier alarm but I no longer cared.

There was a sound of a terrible tear in the psychic space before the sense of a physical body returned, the horrible physical pains soon followed. I proceeded to cough out a huge patch of blood, the feedback was far harsher than expected. My head was spinning from the exertion. Gasping, I wondered how long I was out before deciding it didn’t matter. The important thing was I needed to get away from here.

Away from all this madness.

Panting, I struggled to stand up, sweat and blood were dripping down from my face as indescribable pain took over my body.

Yet I had no time to dwell, as tiny trembling on the ground could be felt. Someone, or something was approaching. I looked down and to my horror noticed the mess on the floor. In desperation something took over, I pointed my open palm at the puddle of blood. Inspired by my horrible experience of almost being erased, I compressed the warp energy in my hand until a small beam of light poured forth from my palm, disintegrating every evidence of my existence.

That done, I got up again and started my escape. I ran, ignoring the overwhelming aching body pain while dashing towards the designated escape route. My feet carried me over marble stone steps predating the Unification War, everything from unknown broken statues of forgotten heroes, artifact pieces that outlasted many empires and memorised death trap locations dashed by in a blur as I moved to avoid the tightening net of my pursuers.

As I approached the final escape point, my surroundings became better lit with each passing moment. Finally, one more long and narrow passageway before my freedom was certain.

It was then I felt it, heavy footsteps coming from the far end of the passage, quite a distance away but closing in fast. The weight of the steps, this rhythm, no doubt about it, the golden guardians were here. The unexpected development made me tremble with fear. No patrol of golden guardians was supposed to be here.

Did I trigger some unseen new alarms or…?

Knowing first hand how sharp the golden guardians’ senses were I immediately turned around and used my new found ability to burn off the scent trail around and behind me. I then looked around, desperate for a proper hiding place but found none in the confined space. The inhumanly fast footsteps got closer. Anytime now, they just needed to turn the corner to see me in plain sight.

Cornered, I wished fervently to just disappear. In the last moment when it seemed all was lost, something inside me snapped and suddenly I perceived a very thin layer of shroud had appeared from nowhere and covered me whole. Before I could figure out what just happened, huge figures were turning in from around the corner.

I saw them now, golden armour glittering in the dimly lit hallway and marching in pairs. This was the first time I saw the golden guardians at such a short distance away and it was scary and mesmerising in equal measures. They were huge beings encased in master-crafted golden war plates and had a peculiar quality about the way they moved. Their every movement spoke of hyper efficiency and precision, the crimson plumes on their high helmets fluttered with every step, bouncing in sync with the spears they carried with practised ease.

Like a tide of golden waves the giants swiftly approached, the passage’s limited width allowed only two of them to march side by side at a time. I shivered internally, just by looking at them I knew to engage them in combat meant certain death. There was no chance of winning even if I was not already wounded.

I can’t win this.

As I resigned to my fate and stood still to give in, a peculiar thing happened: the giants were not slowing down. They didn’t notice me? Is it because of this shroud? Snapping back to my senses, I shifted my body to face them sideways, just in time to slip between them.

I watched, dumbstruck as the rows of golden giants who were oblivious to my presence marched thunderously past me, my height barely reaching their knees.

Then the last giant who wore a great crimson cape came along, looking like a war god. As he passed me the fluttering fabric came within a hair’s breadth from my face. I moved my head back slightly and the giant’s head seemed to turn in response to my movement. My hearts stopped, but he never looked back and soon, they marched off into the distance and were gone like a passing storm.

I turned to the cleared corridor, my freedom assured. The strange shroud disappeared as I started to run again. Looking back, the father I knew, the imperial truth, the golden age of humanity, the glorious enlightened empire was an eternity away now.

I just wanted to… get away from all this. It was then I noticed liquids streaming down my eyes. A scene appeared in my mind, where a breathtaking girl with platinum hair once told me, ‘I am sorry, this is the second time I cried in my life.’

So, this was the first time?

I remembered now, I am not Syrine, the Emperor was not my father, the golden guardians were the Adeptus Custodes, their names were unknown to her at this point in time. And of course, Horus Lupercal the sixteenth primarch, the Warmaster, the favourite son who betrayed his father and started it all was killed by the Emperor at the end of the great heresy war.

I stopped running, in the vision she detached from me and continued running forward with inhuman speed, her tiny back quivering as she melted into the distance, utterly alone in the wider world.

Everything turned to black, then my eyes in the real world snapped open.

Chapter 40: V2 CH.3 AWAKENED

Chapter Text

It was like waking up to a calamity.

The moment my eyes opened, my senses immediately overloaded. The overwhelming sensation of ultra-intense lights, sounds and smells were somehow amplified by the intense emotion that was still ebbing from that vision. It was so painful I almost screamed, but that shameful act was blocked by my old friend.

[Regalis] Action override-

The sensory overload however was hardly the end of my troubles, inside my head mental alarms were blaring out.

[Potential threats detected]
[Defensive measures auto activated]

Without prompting, a command pulse burst forth from me and reached out, it grabbed hold onto the aforementioned threats while I was still struggling to make sense of my surroundings.

[Caution! Immediate attention required]

While I was still dazed by the information overload, a mental feedback prompt pulled urgently at my consciousness, screaming for attention. Outraged, I pushed back with a single directive.

LEAVE ME ALONE!

My command latched out, tethering itself with lighting speed to any tangible targets to execute my decree.

[Potential threat disabled]
[Potential threat disabled]
[Potential threat disabled]
[Potential threat disabled]
[Further attention required]

All that happened in the blink of an eye.

Just like that, all the prompts went away. Released from the mental pressures but still suffering from sensory overload, I slowly regained my bearing and looked around. I found myself in a huge, dimly lit chamber surrounded by a myriad of devices.

The chamber gave the vibe of a religious gothic setting mixed with futuristic elements, a theme which I was dead familiar with due to my countless hours of diving into books and video games of this universe, it was like witnessing concept arts come to life. The ceiling was high and church-like with numberless religious figures painted on it, whereas the walls and floor had a few gigantic stylised fleur-de-lys symbols.

No mistake about it, I must be in a Sororitas monastery. Eerily, no one was around in this huge chamber. The air was pleasantly cool, the tranquillity of the place was broken only by the muted beeping of machines.

At least it should be, but I was still battling with my hypersensitive senses. My vision was saturated with flashing psychedelic colours, traces of medicine and chemicals in the air assaulted my nostrils while the world rumbled with a deafening low hum.

I winced and sniffed from the suffocating stimulus until the intensity eventually died down. Finally relieved from the sensory torment, I touched my face and to my surprise, felt some wetness.

Blood? I pulled my hand back in shock. This is… I didn't even notice I was still crying. Breathing heavily, I mentally conceded she was correct to forewarn me, the vision was indeed unpleasant and also confirmed what was widely acknowledged in my hobby community: that the Emperor of Mankind can be a total jerk at times.

After taking another breath then wiping off my tears, I started observing my surroundings and was immediately stunned by the clarity of my senses. Everything was looking even more real than before. Compared with this vividness, it felt like the past few days when I was active my then “super healthy” body was actually under the weather the whole time. Was it really?

The shocking answer came quickly. Looking back, I finally realised during the days leading up to the battle with the rebels and the greater daemon, my body might have been running on fumes.

It was so ridiculous, I must have been like a village bumpkin who got hold of a damaged supercar and felt proud of myself for going 150 miles, without realising the car can easily go 300 miles in top form.

My gawd, I am still such a bloody noob.

After some self-loathing, it was time for information gathering. I reached out but there was no machine spirit around. Nearby, the dimly lit space was illuminated by what seemed to be my vital readings on huge digital displays. I tried to read the information, but to my horror I could not understand them. For a split second I was rudely reminded of being an intruder of this universe before something kicked in, and abruptly the meaning of the gothic characters came to me perfectly.

What the hell was that? I thought whatever instant Low Gothic translation mechanism inside my head should be seamless by now?

Slightly unnerved, I peeled my eyes from the displays to check on my body and found I was wearing a patient’s outfit with a tube inserted into my left arm. Everything seemed fine, all my limbs were accounted for and I could move all my fingers and wiggle my toes freely.

From this point of view, laying down and looking at my body was just like … that time I was on that muddy field. Suddenly I was on that miserable rainy field again, pain and cold gnawing at me. I looked down to see an atrocious amount of blood flowing out from my nose and mouth, the warm sanguine liquid filled my mouth with a choking taste of iron. I could not breathe, started panicking and grabbed onto my neck.

I blinked, and suddenly found myself back on my bed again. No muddy field, no rain, no blood, but my hands were still around my neck. While my mind rallied, I touched my neck and realised my rosette was missing.

The possibility of losing such a crucial item jolted my focus back, but a hunch told me it was nearby. I sat up from my bed to look around and true to my feelings, quickly located it. Just a few steps away, glittering in the dim light on top of a small table was my rosette, beneath it was my then outfit, cleaned and neatly folded.

Relieved, I climbed down from my futuristic-looking bed to retrieve my stuff. The marble floor was stone cold and a nice chill crept up my feet as I walked over. Just before I was about to reach for my pendant, a nagging sensation grabbed my attention. Intrigued, I looked around as information seeped into my head. It was only then that I realised the place was rigged with a myriad of contraptions that my mind was trying to warn me about.

Hanging from the ceiling and aiming at my bed was a brainwave monitor. Mounted high on the walls were multiple motion detectors, and the bed I slept on even had a weight sensor. I could even perceive the infrared anti-theft measures covering my stuff on the table. Everything seemed to be rigged to alert the administrators of the place the moment they detected I had regained consciousness, but nobody was running over to me. Why?

Looking closer, I was enlightened by the transcendent intelligence residing in me: all the notification functions on the devices were intercepted by my command pulse from earlier, they were all currently running in a loop pending for my further instructions. That meant my countermeasures ability was activated even before my mind was clear …

You are a weapon.

The chilling answer in the Emperor’s voice jumped at me. Feeling conflicted at that notion and not wishing to alert anyone of me waking up at the moment, I terminated all the command loops.

With all the security measures disabled, I slowly picked up my rosette that was in the shape of a golden twin-headed eagle pendant. It was as light as a feather but I felt the symbolic weight it carried. The pendant shone brightly even in the dim light, bouncing illumination off its exorbitant finishing in a complex and spellbinding manner. The vision never did show how Syrine got the possession of this item, which made me question if her action here was sanctioned by the Emperor.

What if this is a case of running away from home but on a galactic scale?

The ramification of such a possibility was no joking matter. I suddenly had the mental image of a few Adeptus Custodes guards materialising beside me with their weapons raised.

I had seen the legendary Custodes in my vision; the way they moved, the shine on their burnished gold armour and the sheer intimidating pressure they exuded was still fresh in my mind. Even knowing beforehand that these were imaginary spectres I was taken aback by the intensity of it. I blinked and the mirages of golden giants were gone, leaving me with a heightened pulse.

Flustered, I cursed myself for jumping at shadows and decided to change my clothes. I pulled the tube that was still attached to my wrist, it came off with a light sensation and my vital readings on the huge display went flat. Before the built-in alarm started beeping, I made sure to disable its administrator notification function before switching it off with a flick of my mind.

I then proceeded to take off my patience’s gown. Looking down I came face to face with heavenly curves. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, I… I am a girl, in one of the most brutal sci-fi universes known no less. My brain froze and I wanted to cry because of my predicament, but this time the tears were not forthcoming.

Feeling distressed, I panted for air despite not feeling out of breath, the reality check on me playing the part of a questionable heiress of a failing galactic empire hit me like a truck. I was just a normal white collar worker in my previous life. This is too much, can I run away from all these like Syrine did?

While my mind raced, a small voice rose from inside my head. Weren’t you always frustrated about the lack of position, power and resources in life? Here, have everything you always wanted and go make a difference. I looked down at the chained golden eagle pendant that was still on my right hand and slowly clenched it.

A short while later, I had cleaned myself, all dressed up and arrived at a sturdy looking door. The door was decorated with, of course, a myriad of skulls and other common imperial motifs, it seemed to be the only way in and out of this place. Curious about what was on the other side, I fired up [Auspex] and blasted forth a sensor wave, but no readings came back.

What the? I tried a second time and received the same result, but this time I noticed my detection waves disappeared as soon as they hit the door and walls. I realised these were made of either psychic or sensor dampening materials. This chamber has some serious setup.

I approached the door and pushed it, finding it locked as expected. A sensation informed me the door was merely locked by a sophisticated digital mechanism, which was weird but made things easy for me. Using my innate ability, I bypassed the security measures, deactivated the digital lock and gingerly pushed the door.

The massive door swung open silently, a testament to its supreme craftsmanship and I was greeted by a dimly lit narrow hallway. I quietly exited the chamber and closed the door, reactivating its lock.

Murmurs of prayers mixed with the low hums of power armour backpacks could be heard in the distance and there was the smell of incense in the air. I fired up another [auspex] wave and immediately detected people not too far in front, from the readings I could tell there was a line of Sororitas blocking another group of people. While the presence of the sisters was expected, I was taken aback by the second group, some of whom seemed to be prostrating towards my direction.

Who are these freaks?

I slowly walked forward while taking a closer look at the readings, recognised the symbols of haloed skulls and held back a gasp. These people must be from the Ecclesiarchy, the official church of the Imperium. From my understanding these guys were usually just bad news; think ultra-corrupt, super self-righteous religious organisations in conservative trappings with the full backing of a supremely fascist state.

As I was wondering what to do next, more people approached. Judging by the weight of the steps and the growing hums of power armour, a new group of sisters had arrived.

‘Sister palatine, good morning.’ a male voice echoed from the hallway, addressing the newcomers.

‘Good morning, esteemed archdeacon,’ replied a female voice which I recognised to be Palatine Dominae who I had met once, she had a uniquely pitched voice. ‘Your grace is here very early today. How may I serve?’ While Dominae sounded courteous enough, I felt a hint of coldness in her tone.

‘Palatine, this time I will accompany you in the routine inspection of the saint candidate’s condition.’

‘Archdeacon, I again humbly request your eminence not to be involved in such matters. Should the Holy Daughter regain consciousness, we will notify the church immediately. Please retire and wait for our notification.’

‘Not possible, the latest astropathic message from the cardinal has made his orders clear. By his decree as the highest Ecclesiarchy office on Nusquam, thus representing the Emperor’s will, the church has to have the first word with the candidate when she recovers. It is now my sole and only task, I am to personally monitor her condition closely from this point onward and supervise her inspections.’

There was a pause before Dominae replied, ‘my apologies archdeacon, again I must refuse your request. Without explicit written order from the church authorised by the cardinal, I can not overrule the orders of my canoness.’

‘I understand, that is why this time I have here with me the written order here with the church’s seal, attached together with the transcripts of the cardinal’s direct orders. Kindly verify.’

‘This is…’ there was another pause before Dominae complied with a flat tone that almost masked her displeasure. ‘Very well, follow me.’ I then heard the sisters parting and people started moving, and it was only then I realised my predicament.

I am not supposed to be here! sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!

Trapped, I was so trapped. This situation of being cornered in a narrow walkway seemed awfully familiar though. Just as I was seconds away from an embarrassing encounter with a bunch of troublesome people, a line of words showed up like a saviour in my vision.

[Activate Shadow Walk? YES / NO]

After I made the obvious choice, a thin, almost unperceivable shroud appeared around me just as Palatine Dominae came into view, her face an icy fortress as she led a few sister hospitallers together with a whole group of religious-looking people walking forward.

For a moment I held my breath but it was soon apparent no one saw me. With my back on the wall, I watched in awkward silence as the Ecclesiastical procession walked right past me, their many delicate religious trinkets ringing softly with every step and a cloud of incense followed them towards the chamber.

I felt my head numbing just by imagining what would happen when they found out their Holy Daughter was no longer inside.

I gotta get out of here.

In front of me was the path leading outside, with my new found ability and my transhuman agility I could probably get out of this place undetected. I looked back at the procession again and found myself absolutely not in the mood to deal with religious bureaucracy. In stark contrast the promise of a short span of freedom in front was just too tempting.

Come hell and high water, I will go for a walk first.

Maintaining my shroud I walked down the hallway, past a line of guarding sisters and ventured into the vast monastery.

Chapter 41: V2 CH.4 MONASTERY

Chapter Text

I moved like a ghost inside the Sororitas monastery.

Even with my shroud, at first I was still apprehensive whenever I encountered random groups of sisters. But soon it was clear that no one so much as threw me a glance, I was practically invisible to the human eyes. I proceeded with my walk and felt like a lost tourist visiting a holy site, marvelling at the impressive interior of the place. All around me every inch of the floors, walls and ceilings were covered with patterns, carvings and reliefs of religious and imperial motifs in the signature dark gothic theme of the Imperium.

Another surprising fact was that while the place was huge, there was little to no electronic security surveillance in most areas. I was paying extra attention to lookout for security cameras for I highly suspected this shroud of mine could not fool machines, as this should be equal to or the same legendary ability utilised by the stealthy Raven Guard space marines.

By now the ruse was up, I could feel the increased vox traffic in the air and an obvious increase in the number of battle sisters marching around with sterner than usual expressions. Curious about what they were talking about on the vox, I dove into the network for a peek and almost instantly regretted it. It sounded like the whole monastery was freaking out, they were screaming mobilisation orders and putting all available sisters into a search.

Maybe this accidental stunt of mine went a bit too far. The idea of looking for Alicya or Diadinah did cross my mind but I had no idea where to even begin. I walked aimlessly, wondering what to do next, but seemed to be drawn towards a particular direction. There was something in the air, a residue of something powerful calling out to me like the faintest whisper in a dream.

I soon found myself inside a huge service hall of sorts with an eye-catching life-sized statue in the centre of it. It was of a lady clad in a standard suit of Sororitas power armour. She wore a fierce expression, standing heroically on top of a high marble slab with an iron halo behind her head, holding a huge shield on her left hand while a blade was raised on the other. The plaque on the marble read: “Katherine Elysius, Patron Saint of the Order of Our Martyred Lady”, the original Order Militant Majoris which this tiny Order splintered from.

There was a tall banner and a table in front of the statue. On the table was an incense dispenser with a forest of burning candles, on the centre of it was a collection of religious trinkets commonly carried by the sisters of battle. I noticed some of these trinkets were damaged or broken in places. The banner behind the table had lines upon lines of words written on it.

On the very top of the banner written in huge lettering was a single word: Martyris . As for those lines of words, they were all names.

Adelyra Geneviel
Lucya Docimusa
Juliana Nihenta
Sabina Luceia
Veridica Agathira
Eleana Dissarah
Brigania Decimagora
Adelinna Karamaina
Eleaniael Jenith
….

On and on the names went, I felt the hair on my arm rising upon realising these were all the recently martyred sisters. Did they lose their lives before I arrived or in the recent battle under my command? I was not sure, but regardless it made my spine crawl.

This was the grim darkness of the far future after all, war was eternal and the Imperium itself was built on countless martyrs. I knew. I knew that but still, the transition from hobby memes to reality had an indescribably surreal quality to it.

I held my palms together for a silent prayer then left the hall, letting my feet carry me forward to no particular place. Damn, I can use some fresh air. I walked and walked, with my shroud I passed more security checkpoints, avoided random Mechanicus personnel, dodged security cameras, and walked past more groups of sisters until I was finally out of the monastery wall and got onto a parapet.

Wait, is that what I think it is?

I had to get a closer look! The fastest way to get down from here would be… it was only then that I realised my body was in mid air, and I was looking down at a straight down drop of at least four storeys in height. In my eagerness to move forward and without realising my own actions, I climbed over the parapet. Time slowed down, the human side of me screamed internally while the other unfamiliar side was indifferent about the fall. Then visions of Syrine’s daredevil stunts beneath the imperial palace flashed before my mind and the internal conflict was resolved.

Yeah, this is nothing.

I landed without a hitch and felt no more impact than jumping off a chair. The little landing noise I made attracted the attention of a battle sister from a patrolling squad, but she quickly lost interest after seeing no one was around.

After my quick recovery from a brief moment of feeling stupor, I looked back at the multiple storeys high parapet and immediately gave up on the idea of going back the same way.

No response. Well, that was worth a try.

My anxiety was starting to rise at this point, this walk had been going on for far too long. I tried looking for a way back into the monastery but instead felt a sense of suffocating oppression just by looking at the formidable structure. Meanwhile, on the other side of that fence lies that mysterious thing I saw from the parapet plus my last fleeting chance for a taste of false freedom.

Finally I made up my mind and promised to myself: I will get back right after seeing what was on the other side. Using my shroud and darkness as cover, I continued my journey through a field and eventually reached the outermost perimeter. Through the ornamented fence I saw a huge crowd of pilgrims. The obvious way to get outside was through the main gatehouse guarded by squads of sisters. I avoided that and checked on the perimeter fences.

Looking at the height of the fence, I had a hunch that this was probably not enough of an obstacle for me. But just in case, [Simulatio] Activated- In my mind’s eye I ran at the fence and jumped. Propelled by my superhuman limbs I easily leaped right over the fence, even doing a flip while mid air. I can do this. I exited the simulation and performed the feat, landed on the other side.

Keeping my shadow walk active, I moved into the crowd of pilgrims, finding myself having to constantly avoid the random people who would be walking straight into me due to my pseudo invisibility. The familiar scent of incense again filled the air but this time mixed with the musk of humanity, these people had been here for some time already.

I soon reached the centre of the crowd and my mouth dropped. No doubt about it, standing close to two metres tall with thousands of candles burning beneath it and lighting it up like a gigantic cake in predawn darkness was a statue of my likeness. I gulped while looking at the details. This statue, while slightly crude with hints of being a rushed job, matched my clothing and pose from when I did that cringy solo performance. The most noteworthy feature of it was the glowing halo behind the head which was made up of illuminating devices.

Around the statue were many erected banners, most had the typical message of “The Emperor protects” or “Faith is Our Shield” written on them, and the largest of them all read “Pray for Our Saint”.

How long was I out cold? When was I a saint?

I stood there, invisible to the crowd and having a hard time keeping my mouth closed while taking the ridiculous sight in. By then the sky was starting to brighten up. Dawn was coming. I let out a sigh and decided it was time to end the walk.

I turned and was about to go back when a disturbance caught my attention. A few people were arguing around the corner of the statue and their voices rose steadily. I walked over for a closer look, just in time to witness the start of a fight. A few guys were pummeling an old man while the crowd, including a man who looked like an officer in carapace armour, simply stood by and watched.

Attacked by multiple people, the elder man was having a hard time defending himself from getting punched and kicked from all sides. The old man soon lost his footing and fell to the ground, his possessions scattered around. His assailants did not relent though and kept up their attack. I winced at the barbaric display and wondered why no one intervened.

Are the people here this cold? No matter, not my problem .

I turned and decided to return to the monastery, but found my steps heavy. Behind me the beating continued. Not my problem . The old man started begging for mercy. NOT MY - the begging continued, now with a blood gurgling voice. I quickly turned around, upon witnessing blood flowing down from the old man’s mouth, I snapped.

‘What are you people doing? STOP IT!’

The assault abruptly stopped as I had hoped, but there was a new problem: everyone was looking at me. Oops , there goes my shadow walk. All around me people went quiet. My sudden appearance, together with my matching appearance with their fabled saint, must have bewildered them. There was no going back now, might as well do what I blew my cover for. I started walking towards the bullies while glaring at them. They got the message and stepped back from their victim.

I reached the wounded old man and squatted down to check on him. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I…’ the old man started to answer weakly as he looked up. When he saw me his expression turned from despair to shock. ‘It is fine now,’ I assured him, surely the sister hospitallers back in the monastery can do something about his injuries.

The crowd around started murmuring and my transhuman hearing heard them all. ‘Is that…?’ ‘Where did she come from?’ ‘I swear no one was there just now…’ ‘No way…’ This could get messy, I needed to get back as soon as possible.

‘Can you stand? I can get you some help.’ I offered the old man my hand. Still shocked, he took it and stood back up shakily. Just as we were about to leave, our path was blocked by the man in carapace armour with his palm raised, signalling us to stop.

Being this close, I finally recognised his armour and half mask to be the standard issue wargear of the Adeptus Arbites, the imperial law enforcers of Imperium. While the Arbites were quite a major faction in the lore, they were more “brutal central bureau police department” than a military force, as a result they were never a complete playable army by themselves and I was not familiar with them.

The officer first looked me up and down, then talked into his comm, telling his unit he was investigating a possible case of “thrill seeker” before finally turning to me. With an authoritative voice he asked, ‘Mamzel, are you alone?’

Mamzel? Just as I was starting to get used to being called a lady he had to hit me with that cringe again. Feeling slightly offended aside, together with the man’s inaction when the assault happened right in front of him, I had a very low opinion of this officer at this point. Still, I had to answer to avoid further troubles, ‘yes.’

The man nodded before dropping his bombshell statement. ‘Do you have a written permission from any Ministorum representative to dress up like that? Impersonating a saint or a potential saint candidate without proper authorisation is a criminal offence under the local code of Lex Imperialis.’

Wait, what? Is he serious? The lore did mention about Arbites not caring much about petty crimes instead focusing on central imperial laws, kind of like how the FBI will not bat an eye if you litter in front of them. Even so, assault was considered a petty crime for them?

‘No, I do not have written permission.’ I answered truthfully.

‘Then I will have to arrest you. Show me your identity.’

Whoa? Experiencing the brunt imperial law for the first time, I was taken aback. Seeing that I did not respond, the officer drew his baton menacingly and barked his order, ‘mamzel, I am not going to repeat that order again.’

‘But I am not impersonating anyone.’ I said without thinking. In hindsight, it was obviously the wrong answer for him. The officer’s chin under the half mask visibly tensed up, I could even read what was on his mind: You little twat! I bet you usually have things your way with that pretty face.

Wait… I can read minds now?

‘Final warning. Give me your identity.’ He said with a voice so dangerous it snapped me back and made all the people around, including the wounded old man, step further back.

‘Like an ID card or something? I… I am sorry, I don’t have one.’ As soon as I uttered my answer, his thought came through again: That’s it. I will teach you a lesson .

Shockingly in the next instance he actually swung his baton at me, someone with the appearance of an unarmed girl. The crowd gasped at the sudden attack, but what was supposedly a very tense moment quickly became weird. I watched in disbelief as the weapon came at me at a snail’s pace and dodged it easily by stepping aside.

Surprised, the officer quickly collected himself and tried for the second time. Again the baton moved sluggishly through the air, this time I took a step back and observed the tip of the baton gliding right in front of me at a laughable speed.

Is he even trying? I risked a glance at my assailant, the man’s expression was far too serious to be fooling around. I even saw a cloud of angry emotions hanging over him, his intention to beat me up was real but he was just too slow.

Wait, is he slow or… am I fast?

The officer swung for the third time, again attacking with the same lethargic speed. I was no longer nervous and glanced around to confirm my hunch. To my amazement, from the crowd’s movement to the flowing of banners, everything seemed to be moving at less than half speed from my point of view. I was possibly in my peak form for the first time, the mere tightening of my focus seemed to make everything go slower, so there was no need to fire up thought acceleration.

The officer was not slow, I am way too fast for him .

Confident in the difference of our physical capability, I reached out and grabbed hold of the baton mid-swing, easily yanking it off his hand like taking candy from a baby. Not realising he was disarmed, the man continued his clumsy strike and was fully exposed for counter attack. I felt a strange new sensation and in the blink of an eye, saw a myriad of ways to end his life.

A hand chop to the neck would fatally crush his throat. A direct elbow smash into the back of his head should result in a lethal concussion even with that helmet. A knee jab into his chest would break enough rib cage for the bones to puncture his own lungs, drowning him on land. A quick grab and twist would break his neck, and an extra twist could probably decapitate him with my strength. I had so many options to end him now.

He is so fragile.

Even wearing that full body armour, to me he looked no more than a defenceless sand castle on the beach . While I looked at him with a newfound perspective, the man finally regained his stance and our eyes met. I have no idea what he saw, but in the next instance he recoiled in horror and took multiple steps back.

The crowd around us was getting thicker at this point and I figured it would be better to deescalate the situation. ‘Please, stop.’ I said while flipping the baton and offered the handle to him. The man blinked at the baton, finally noticed his empty hand and looked totally dumbfounded. He panicked, took a few steps back, quickly called into his comms for backup. That done, he drew a pistol, pointed it at me while yelling in a shaky tone, ‘stop resisting!’

I was flabbergasted. Despite all my attempts to resolve this situation peacefully it still ended up like this. The human side of me flinched at the sight of a gun, but another part of me seemed to be nonchalant about it as it was merely an autopistol.

“Merely” a pistol?

Surprised by my own thoughts, I stood still just as two more individuals wearing the same uniform appeared from the crowd with their weapons pointing at me while shouting conflicting orders. One of them was asking me to raise my hands while another was telling me to get down on my knees; the first man was chiming in, asking me to drop the baton that I had offered to him.

Such a nuisance. This reminded me of all the horrible incidents made by the less than ideal law enforcement personnel back on my mundane earth. A wrong move here and a normal person would be dead. But I was anything but normal now.

A myriad of options flashed before my mind. First I could unleash my halo to intimidate them, but that might create a bigger scene with all the pilgrims around. Otherwise fleeing was also an option, with my speed I could get out of dodge easily but that would risk the life of bystanders should these guys simply start shooting indiscriminately.

Lastly there was the option of going fully on the offensive. If I activated thought acceleration and went all out, taking down all three of them within seconds before leaving the scene was a given. They were just humans after all.

“Just” humans?

Upon seeing the arrival of a furious sister, the three officers complied and lowered their weapons. After staring down the Arbites, Welminah turned to me. Glad to finally see a familiar face but not expecting to meet up with her under such circ*mstances, I dropped the baton, smiled to cover the awkwardness and said the only thing that came to my mind.

‘Good morning, Welminah.’

It was then I had a proper look at the scholar, she seemed to have exerted herself coming here, the sweat on her forehead shone like diamonds reflecting the early sunlight. Welminah struggled to control her ragged breathing, and she had a somewhat stupefied expression while staring straight at me with her lips trembling slightly. On one of her hands was a communication device with a voice calling out from it. ‘Sister Welminah? Say again, have you located the Holy Daughter?’

‘Affirmative, I found her.’ Welminah said, but in her haste to reply she had forgotten her laud hailer was still switched on, so that message was blasted all around us. We both winced at the accident, while she hurriedly turned off her laud hailer, a message appeared in my vision.

[Combat detected]

Chapter 42: V2 CH.5 MEETING AGAIN

Chapter Text

[Combat detected]
[Cogitatio Acceleratio auto activated]
[Auspex auto activated]

My powers activated in response to dangers that I was not even aware of. As the thought acceleration effect took over, the world around me froze in time as my sensor net expanded outwards.

I was being attacked? Who? How?

I looked around and quickly located some suspicious individuals. First target, one o’clock, three metres behind the first officer, a pilgrim with a gun drawn. Second target, ten o’clock, five metres behind the third officer, another man with his weapon out. Their posture, the position of their weapons, the way they were looking straight at me, no mistake about it, they were targeting me.

While the assassins’ threat against me was very low, Welminah was caught between the firing arc from both of them. As an unaugmented human, the risk of her being fatally shot from the cross fire was quite high. Unacceptable. Calculating solutions, calculating…

As the time dilation effect wore off, I cranked my concentration to the maximum and executed my plan. Time marked. I kicked a grape-sized pebble next to my right foot and sent it flying at the first assassin. That done, I then snapped the same foot down onto the baton on the ground, launching it upwards and grabbing it with my right hand.

Before Welminah could fully express her surprise, I grabbed her shoulder with my left hand and pulled her into an embrace. I spun around to switch our positions, and halfway during the spin the baton was flung at the second assassin. Time since marked start: below two seconds.

The kicked pebble flew straight into the face of the first assassin with astonishing speed, knocking him out. The baton also hit its mark but the second assassin barely blocked it with his gun. The impact knocked the weapon out of his hand, but not before firing a single shot into the air, sending the crowd around into a panic and gaining the attention of the other two officers.

Just as the situation was about to get under control, the officer who had called me a mamzel pointed his gun right at me, and in a split second I could tell he was about to shoot.

I flinched, had no choice but to push Welminah down and covered her with my body knowing full well my transhuman physiology would definitely survive small arms fire. The officer fired twice, people screamed, I expected bullet impacts. Instead bright flashes together with loud cracking sounds erupted twice in quick succession near me.

The reinforced refractor field from my pendant did its work and stopped the bullets. A quick mental note on the trajectory of the bullets told me the officer's shots were avoiding Welminah while another part of my mind analysed the whole situation. The kicked pebble flew right past the officer, he must have confused it as an attack .

To avoid further escalation and possible fatal accidents, I reluctantly decided to play the halo card. I stood back up for the halo light show, but felt a strange, sudden surge of power when I tapped into the ability. Wait, what is going on?

Instead of the expected result, my halo was unleashed with blinding intensity. I was dumbfounded by the unexpected spectacle and the chaotic scene that was on the verge of losing further control went quiet.

The brief silence was broken by one of the pilgrims crying out loud, ‘by the Emperor! It… it is the real saint!’ As soon as those words were exclaimed the crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer. The tangible surge of emotional energy from the ecstatic pilgrims seemed to fuel my already over-charged halo further, and new phenomena manifested. Spectral doves of pure light appeared, the angelic birds flying in and out of existence at the edges of my halo, leaving delicate feathers that slowly melted to the air in their wake. The extraordinary sight only served to elevate the pilgrims’ exaltation further, and many started religious hymns and knelt down to pray to me.

Despite being amazed by the scene, I looked up to assess the situation. Most pilgrims were down on their knees, two of the officers were halfway apprehending the second assassin while the guy who shot me stood still, looking totally shocked. I then heard a shaking voice behind me struggling to overcome the crowds’ chorus, it was Welminah talking frantically into her vox. ‘The Holy Daughter was shot! Send emergency first aid and a suppression force to my coordinates!’

‘Welminah?’

‘You were shot!’ After dropping a quick death-glare at the officer, she stood up, looked at me with unconcealed worriedness. ‘Where did they hit?’ she asked, her tone bordering on hysterical.

‘I am fine, look at me. I am fine.’ I assured her.

Under the full illumination of the risen sun and my halo, Welminah appeared a bit dishevelled and rough around the edges. She just stood there and looked at me without blinking, her eyes slightly too red to be natural. She had been crying? Not really knowing what to do, we just stood there exchanging stares, I felt her mind unfold to me like an open book. Underneath that charming face struggling to stay neutral were boiling emotions of disbelief, relief and veneration.

Veneration?

It was at this moment the monastery erupted with high pitched sirens, the sounds of war from the megastructure instantly chased away any last semblance of morning tranquillity. Accompanying the sirens was a message that was broadcasted over the whole field, ordering everyone to stay put. Up in the skies I noticed many flyers quickly appearing and the air itself was filled with vox transmissions. Much further away I heard the sound of the gates opening, followed by the distinct trembling of tracked vehicles rumbling forward.

Soon a few flyers zoomed past high above us. I looked up and saw many shiny things dropping down. Reflecting the morning light and shining like silver angels, the armoured form of many Sororitas seraphims descended from the heavens.

To the awe of everyone present the seraphims dropped down at breakneck speed before expertly firing up their jump packs’ retro boosters at the very last minute, the white livery under their silver-coloured power armour fluttering gloriously to the roar of jump packs as they gracefully descended all around us.

A seraphim superior skillfully touched down right in front of us just seconds before a whole squad of the elite sisters landed to form a protective circle around me and Welminah. Many more seraphims descended around the pilgrims with weapons drawn. As if on cue a few immolator tanks entered the area, their massive twin heavy bolter turrets turning menacingly while their laud haulers repeated the order of telling everyone to stay still.

Yeah, my out-for-a-walk stunt definitely went too far. Internally I was sweating bullets at how the events had escalated. Externally, thanks to [Regalis], I looked calm and was cool as a cucumber.

Despite the arrival of a whole detachment of battle sisters, Welminah was still sobbing away on my shoulder. The seraphim superior eyed me up and down, after seemingly satisfied with my unscathed condition she knelt down to me. ‘Holy Daughter.’ Her voice was distorted by the decorated helmet, but still recognisable.

I gently pried the crying scholar away from me and said softly, ‘Welminah, Sister Superior Zharphia is here.’ Zharphia stood up, sent a brief report on her vox before taking off her helmet and tucking it under her right arm. She gave Welminah an incredulous stare before saying, ‘Sister Dialogus, I was around the area and rushed over after receiving news of an emergency. But never in a million years I would have guessed it was one of our own who is assaulting Lady Syrine.’

While I was utterly amazed by how the stern-looking Zharphia could deliver such a joke with a straight face, her jest worked as Welminah quickly retorted with her still jerking voice, ‘that was not funny! There was an ambush and Lady Syrine was protecting me when she got shot twice by that Arbites over there.’ She then pointed accusatorily at the now hapless-looking officer and in response a few seraphims immediately pointed their weapons preemptively at the man.

While I snickered internally at the officer’s expression through his half mask, two hovering open-topped speeders similar to the ones utilised by the space marines entered the scene. This was new to me as the Sororitas did not employ such units in my knowledge. The colour scheme and emblems on the speeders indicated they were ambulances. Hovering easily across all obstacles, the speeders soon reached us. On the leading speeder were a few familiar faces.

Alicya, Veritta and Kira with a skull probe orbiting her got off from their speeder just as squads of battle sisters freshly disembarked from the immolator tanks joined in. The place was now filled with the familiar low humming of power armour backpacks.

The skull probe floated over and communication was established with a familiar voice speaking in my head. <My princess. I see your lengthy reboot is completed.>

<Krypto.>

<While my initial scans revealed you to be in perfect health, are you still suffering from any malfunctions? >

<Hmmm, you once told me my brainwave had changed. Any further changes this time? >

<A moment please… This is interesting. From my records the deviance of your brainwave has dropped from 70.865% to 49.734%. So did you regain further memories?>

< Some really ancient memories did came back to me, but none of it shed more information on my original plan here.>

<I see. We should stop our conversation here and continue after a final vetting by the inquisitor, I believe he will be with you soon.>

While I was having a quick chat with Kryptorer, Veritta and Kira were checking on my condition while Alicya started securing the area. Being the highest ranking Sororitas in the field, Alicya gave a quick glance at the situation and started giving out orders. She was efficient and clear-cut, her no-nonsense demeanour with an air of militaristic authority were completely at odds with her appearance of a young lady who was just slightly over half my mental age.

Alicya had always been cordial when interacting with me, and the fact that she was a palatine of the Sororitas, an elite military Order in a universe always at war, had not properly registered on my mind until this point. This was the first time I saw her in this light and it made me grimace inside.

What the hell was I doing with my life when I was her age?

When Alicya was done she turned to me, looking stunning in her polished silver war plate and practically glowing in the morning sun. When our eyes met, an almost unperceivable smile formed on her face and she bowed respectfully. Her unconcealed thought came through to me, thank the Emperor you are finally back .

I winced inside at the incoming headaches. A quick peek at the non-reaction of Alicya and Dominae told me they could not help me with this. The Ecclesiarchy was supposedly the “civilian” organisation their Order served after all.

Chapter 43: V2 CH.6 EXAMINATIONS

Chapter Text

It sounded like a war was raging on the other side.

‘Thank the Emperor! It fills my heart with a new level of zeal just to hear you speak again!’ Canoness Diadinah’s voice came through, the distinct sounds of mass bolter rounds cracking in the background did little to douse her enthusiasm. She was currently leading a sizable Sororitas force directly hitting the uncovered heretical cults following the investigation leads recovered from the ritual site.

‘I am fine, it is good to hear from you.’ I replied to the vox unit, just in time for my enhanced hearing to pick up the half muted roars of flamers accompanied by the screams of death. I recoiled from the carnage, but the canoness spoke again with a total disregard of what was happening around her, ‘I should be back as soon as these sectors are done. I have to go now, there are heretics to be purged.’

‘Hope to see you soon, please take care.’

I ended the call and turned my attention to those around me. A few sister hospitallers were wrapping up my final medical examination, strangely the whole procedure was done under the supervision of a Mechanicus tech-priest.

<Marvellous, simply marvellous.> Magos Balpradus, the tech-priest who I just met, was canting in binary to himself. Like many of his kind who were heavily augmented, his current post-human form was completely devoid of facial features. Instead of having a face, a pair of large lenses glowed with blue lights in the magos’ hooded head, illuminating an explosion of cables dangling from where his mouth would be.

Despite maintaining the basic human form the Magos was completely immune to the art of body language reading, but somehow a distinct feeling of happiness could be perceived from the cold exterior of the tech-priest.

<Such fine, amazing and delicate work. While already mentioned in my previous logs, it is worthy to emphasise again that the subject is beyond any specimen I have ever come across. Even the most advanced transhumanism exhibited by the Astartes pales in comparison. Just by observing her has allowed me to catch rare glimpses of the magnificence of true primarchs.>

Balpradus was rapidly pacing around while his two servo-skulls orbited me. One moment he looked like a seasoned connoisseur appraising a piece of fine art, the next instance he reminded me of a palaeontologist studying a supposedly extinct species, constantly switching his attention between observing me, reading instruments and making record logs.

<To behold the complexity of the subject’s physiology functioning in her awakened state is truly a fascinating sight.>

‘Fascinating?’

<Fascinating indeed… eh?>

Balpradus stopped his pacing, turned to look straight at me and asked, <excuse me, do you understand binary?>

< Yes, I can communicate in binary too. > I canted back via my connection with one of his own servo-skulls. The tech-priest remained motionless for a moment before asking, <did you just utilise one of my servo-skulls?>

Eh? I had been doing that all the time with Kryptorer’s stuff for a while now and got used to it. Now that Balpradus mentioned it, accessing functions on his drone without consent did seem to be quite rude. I quickly apologised for my transgression. < Oh… that. I should have asked for your permission first, I am sorry. >

<When thou desire to discourse purely, use binary. It pleases and surprises me that you can converse in our holy code. But how did you gain access to my drone without me granting you user privilege?>

< I … have no idea. Again I am very sorry for that. >

<Inconceivable. Did I accidentally deactivate the security protocol?> Balpradus then started checking on one of his many dataslates. <Settings verified. Kindly attempt accessing my drone again.> < Like this? > I moved my finger up and down and commanded both his drones to climb and dive, mirroring my motion.

<By the Machine God! It is like my thrice blessed barrier is not even there. I see now why Dominus Cykell called you the Omnissian princess…> The tech-priest then went quiet, I next felt what could only be described as a sense of primal fear flashed for the briefest of moments in his mind.

Fear? Why Fear? Wait… if I could so easily hijack his drone, that also meant I could technically take over his senses and even his body function, like that of a cyborg body snatcher in those cyberpunk stories? The notion of being a weapon jumped at me again, but the very idea of taking over someone’s body sent revulsion down my spine.

Before I could sort out my thoughts Balpradus canted again. <Oh glorious Omnissiah, this one have again underestimated thine boundless capabilities.> Then to the amazement of everyone present, he bowed down and prostrated to me before starting to speak in his heavily augmented synthetic voice.

‘My deepest apologies, I have been rude and forgot my position.’

‘Please stop, I don’t mind. Are you working under Dominus Cykell?’ I asked while gesturing for him to stand.

Somewhat assured, he stood back up and answered, ‘I happen to have the dubious title of the most achieved Magos Biologis on Nusquam, the field of transhumanism is one of my areas of expertise. I was summoned by the dominus to help treat your injuries.’

‘I see. For that I thank you.’

‘I am not worthy of gratitude from one such as you. For all my knowledge I could do little but nudge the healing process in the correct direction, the miracle of Omnissiah’s grand design did the rest.’

If I recall correctly, Magos Biologis are something of a distinct breed of tech-priests since one of the Adeptus Mechanicus’ main creed being “the flesh is weak”, specialising in biology of all things was more than often looked down upon by their ranks. Curiosity got the better of me and I asked, ‘as a biologis, do you suffer any prejudice from your peers for specialising in this field?’

He seemed surprised by my question but answered, ‘while it is unfortunate some of my colleagues treat biology as a subject beneath their attention, all knowledge is equal before the Omnissiah.’ Balpradus then paused slightly before continuing, ‘that said, may I ask how are you aware of such information?’

Oh, it was written in the lore webpage - I almost said it out loud before stopping myself. ‘Just a hunch, with the common Mechanicus saying “the flesh is weak” and all that.’ I answered.

‘Oh yes. There is no truth in flesh, only betrayal. There is no strength in flesh, only weakness. There is no constancy in flesh, only decay. There is no certainty in flesh but death. So say the Credo Omnissiah.’ Balpradus chanted almost reflexively to the uneasy expressions of the sister hospitallers nearby, but he seemed either totally unaware of it or paid them no heed.

‘That said,’ he continued, ‘in you, I witness the level of perfection attainable only in machines derived from the divine source. How you could achieve cybernetic attunement without any implant is beyond me. Tell me, can you access the noospheric network?’

‘Noosphere?’ Now that was a really obscure piece of lore, supposedly an information and communication technology system developed during the closing years of the Great Crusade. I was quite sure no way Syrine could … a line appeared in my vision.

[Activate Noosphere connection? YES / NO]
Eh?

Dumbfounded, I selected yes from the options and in the next instance a never seen before interface appeared in my vision.

Ehhh~!!!??

* * *

I sat alone in a room, aware of the stringent security arrangements just outside the door. They were not taking any chances of me going missing again. After my examinations, I was brought here to wait for Inquisitor Thaberus and had the time to reflect on various matters.

In front of me were many noospheric information windows, floating in augmented reality only visible to me. I was at a total loss on how this technology worked, in essence it was an information network without the need of infrastructure. The network was utilised almost exclusively by the Mechanicus, to me it looked like a strange internet without any advertisem*nt. If that was not weird enough, somehow I was able to access it without having any cybernetic implant.

You are a weapon for a different era that never arrived.

That statement from Big-E struck me again as I pondered its implications. The main question for me was, what type of weapon?

Definitely not a warlord like the actual primarchs, otherwise I would be another Giga Chad of uber stature. Instead I was slightly vertically challenged compared to even the common folks here, that and my own reflections reminded me of those social media models with their carefully crafted pictures. Say, Syrine can definitely make a killing as a media influencer back on earth .

So, an era where the great crusade had successfully concluded then? If… if the Emperor’s initial plan had worked as intended, peace and order would be achieved in the entire Milky Way by the might of the primarchs and their legions. Running low on tangible enemies that could directly threaten the Imperium, the Emperor should then turn his energy to his other biggest hobby - science.

Unshackled by dogmas and superstitions, scientific research will march with such speed the armies of Imperium would continue to advance until they reach or surpass even the fabled Age of Technology. Then the critical Webway Project would have been finished, the Imperium could then in theory move its inexhaustible, hyper-advanced armies anywhere at any time around the whole milky way.

In this new era, humanity would flourish and reach new heights. Instead of spending endless amounts of resources grinding on the eternal wars, we would have terraformed many more worlds, increasing our population in the countless trillions.

In return the number of armies we could raise would reach an unfathomable quantity. By then, the Imperium would be so resource rich and technologically advanced that your average guardsman would be equipped with power armour, whereas the current rare resources like terminator plate and artificer armour would become standard issue for all Astartes and other elite troops. In theory humanity would be able to deploy what would now be considered arcane grade weaponry like phosphex, vortex ordinances and others in unimaginable numbers.

The Imperium would become so powerful that nothing in the galaxy, not Orks, not Necrons, not Tyranids, not even all of them combined could stand in our way. Given time we would Dyson up all the suns in our galaxy and attain powers rivalling that even the fabled old gods.

As I was daydreaming about the glory of an enlightened Imperium, something tagged at my attention.

What is this peculiar feeling …?

I had a distinct feeling that someone, or something was trying to contact me psychically. The source of this calling was weak, or weaker than me. I could easily refuse the communication like turning down an unsolicited phone call, but something about it felt familiar. I took a moment to measure it, tasting its meagre power. A distinct texture of apprehensiveness mixed with a sense of urgency was seeping over and a figure popped into my mind: Astropath Arradus.

I weighed the possibility of it being a masked psychic attack but decided the odds of that were very unlikely. Taking the risk, I steeled myself and accepted the communication.

+Hello?+

+My… my lady!+

Yup, it was the astropath. I could even picture him clearly being half soaked with perspiration from the level of anxiety of his voice. +Arradus, it has been a while.+

+I … I heard the news. After sensing your active powers I could not help but attempt contacting you.+

+It is good to hear from you again. How is my favourite astropath doing?+ I replied, somehow naturally talking to him like bantering with one of my old pals.

+Please, my lady, I am beneath your praise. Anyway, you are not in any trouble are you? The inquisitor had collected that scary old lady a while ago and is probably heading your way.+
Scary old lady?

+No idea who you are talking about and no, I am not in any sort of trouble at the moment.+ I replied.

+Good to hear that.+ Arradus then hesitated for a moment before almost whispering the rest of his message in a hushed tone, +And… erm, while it might be not my place to say this, but please, be careful of the cardinal. He is rushing back from off world.+

His words reminded me of the archdeacon who mentioned an astropathic message in that hallway. Being officially the sole astropath on the planet, all astropathic messages had to go through Arradus, that meant…

+Arradus, aren’t you breaking the rule or taking a risk by telling me this?+ I asked.

He hesitated again for a while before replying, +well… sort of, maybe. But between a to-be canonised living saint and a known corrupted priest, it is easy for one such as me to place my loyalty for the Throne.+

The current cardinal has such a bad reputation?

I sighed internally on the foreshadowing of more troubles ahead before sending back. +Thank you, Arradus. Your advice is appreciated, but please do not risk yourself unnecessarily in the future.+

+Will do. That’s it from me for now. The Emperor protects.+ He sent and ended the psychic communication. That left me alone to ponder upon the revelation, so this cardinal’s reputation was terrible enough it preceded him. While I was not sure of the extent of influence he had on the planet, with the current backing of two dependable power brokers in the form of the Inquisition and the Mechanicus, in theory I should be fine.

After a short while, I could tell Thaberus had arrived at the monastery by the increase of highly encrypted vox messages in the air and the presence of psykers. Some more waiting later, the door finally opened and the inquisitor stepped in with his retinue of six people. Niandra and the psychic duo aside, there were three new faces.

Among the newcomers there was an old lady who wore round shades and a psychic hood. The psychic might radiating from her was on another level above the psychic duo. She was probably the same person Arradus was referring to as the scary old lady .

Then came a bald elderly man whose physique seemed too muscular with his supposed age. On his scarred and weathered face was a bush of greying beard, above that was a big nose accompanied by a pair of green eyes that looked at me with a steely gaze. A dark brown priestly robe together with a huge ministorum emblem hanging down from the man’s neck completed his stereotypical holy man look. The only thing that looked out of place for him was the massive eviscerator on his back.

The final addition was the strangest of all, a little boy with light orange hair looking no older than six years old. The boy was in front of the group and eyeing me curiously. Appearance wise he seemed totally unremarkable if not for the huge Inquisition emblem displayed on his simple grey tunic.

Niandra was as cold and pretty as I remembered, looking a bit tired yet somehow giving off the impression of a loaded spring, standing beside the inquisitor. Fulton and Tsalieh were in the back row, trying to appear chill but I couldn't help but notice they looked somewhat nervous. There was this uneasiness in the air which was beyond my grasp. I tilted my head a bit, activated thought acceleration to analyse the situation and soon figured out the gist of it.

This is a test.

Thaberus was being careful, just in case I was tainted and became twisted by the warp with my close encounter with the greater daemon.

What if I was really compromised? Do we start a deathmatch here and now?

While that notion gave me the chills, it must be nerve wrecking for them. These new people must be some previously hidden big guns. Here was a more powerful, probably primaris grade psyker while the pious-looking old man must be a hierophant who specialised in daemonic threats. It reminded me of what I read in an old book titled Codex: Witch Hunters . Then there was this weird case of a little boy who looked kind of emotionless as the vanguard.

Why would Thaberus bring a child? Unless…

Curious about the small kid and having nothing to hide, I smiled and walked towards my final test. Thaberus bowed slightly while pulling down his fedora with his left hand, then drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly while his right hand hovered discreetly close to an inferno pistol before addressing me.

‘Syrine.’

‘Inquisitor. I appreciate that you are still honouring my request. So, who are these new people? And why is this kid here?’ A peculiar new feeling hit me as I got closer to my visitors. I noticed the slight increase of gravity drag and the feeling that something was being drained away from me. The weird sensation increased in its intensity the closer I got to the unsmiling boy.

What is happening? Is he a…

Resorting to a familiar skill, I ran [Analytica] on the little boy but no text appeared. I knew it . Being this close to the boy, I became aware some of my powers were being drained away, however the replenishment rate seemed to outpace the stripping.

In the tugging between energies, a familiar and nostalgic feeling emerged: the sense of normality. Every time when psychic energy was pulled away from me, for a microsecond it felt as if I was a normal person again, feeling the mortal mundaneness and a stronger pull of gravity on my body.

I found myself captivated by the sheer nostalgia of it and reached my hand out to the boy, savouring the familiar feeling. Upon seeing my action the boy hesitated and stepped back with fear in his eyes, but I distinctly felt he was afraid of hurting me, not the other way around.

‘What is your name?’ I asked.

He seemed surprised, raised his head and stammered. ‘I am Zaki.’ ‘Zaki, nice to meet you. I am Syrine. Tell me, are you … a carrier of the pariah gene?’ The boy’s eyes widened, he then looked down and slowly nodded. It kind of broke my heart. Poor kid must have had it hard, all his life being repulsed by the people around him due the anti psychic field generated by his rare genetics, making everybody around him uneasy and practically a walking bane to all psykers and warp entities.

Judging by the fact that the trio of psykers were still functioning this close to the boy probably meant his pariah’s nullifying effect range should be quite small and weak, he was still a small boy after all. That said, to me for the moment, Zaki was a precious gateway for a brief taste of normalcy. I reached out and lightly touched the boy’s hand. That was an action that would have been painful for a typical psyker, but I only felt an increase in the false sense of mortality.

While my action surprised everyone present, the boy practically looked stunned. Then it dawned on me this might be the first time in a really long while since someone had actively sought out to touch him. That probably explained why the kid looked perpetually sad. His life so far probably consisted of mostly social isolation and episodes of being shunned by other people. Humans are social creature after all, growing up like that would be mental torture.

You poor thing.

‘Zaki, let’s be friends.’ Not waiting for a response, I knelt down and pulled the cute little boy into an embrace to comfort him, while simultaneously enjoying the nostalgic illusion of being a mortal human again. The trio of psykers practically flinched at my action but I couldn’t care less. This feeling of normality, it has been too long.

For a moment I was my old self again, being that geek back on earth with my normal self, a mortal, a nobody in society. Someone who would leave no trace on the history, utterly mundane but human. Emotionally I was hit so hard a familiar message appeared in my vision. [Regalis] Action override-

I welcomed it, for it had blocked tears from flowing.

‘It is alright, it is alright. Everything is fine.’ I said softly, more to myself than Zaki. The little boy tensed up at first, gradually he relaxed and finally embraced me back before starting to cry while hugging me tighter. Already I could feel my powers had completely neutralised Zaki’s pariah effect.

Like the flow of a river being temporarily obstructed, my suppressed psychic might push through the obstacles, triggering [Psykana Activa] . Powering up, a sensory world unique to psykers opened up to me. I no longer had the illusion of being a mortal human, but was grateful to Zaki for the brief experience.

Nearby, three psychic resonances flared into existence, two of which I was familiar with while the third, despite being the strongest of the three, flickered unstably as if in fear. I looked up at my visitors and wondered for a moment why the old lady was shaking uncontrollably before remembering this was the first time she witnessed my active state. Ignoring the trembling primaris psyker, I held the crying boy up, pinched his chubby cheek slightly while turning to the inquisitorial gang.

‘It is alright, Zaki. Tell me, did any of these people bully you by calling you soulless?’

The trio of psykers were unable to hide their grimaces at the sight of me holding up the boy. I imagined if they were to do it the experience would probably be akin to hugging a molten stone. Zaki stopped weeping and answered in his childish voice, ‘no, but no one ever played with me.’

Niandra slightly raised an eyebrow while the elderly man visibly relaxed and formed the sign of aquila. Thaberus sighed softly, his right hand pulled away from the holster to reach into his trench coat and pulled out a flask. Ignoring Niandra’s full glare, the inquisitor took a big gulp from the flask and said his greetings.

‘Good to see you up and well again, princess.’

Chapter 44: V2 CH.7 OVERVIEW

Chapter Text

‘WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?’

Thaberus snarled at me, the inquisitor’s displeasure at my antics written all over his face. ‘The whole planet, nay, the whole sub sector might be turned upside down should you get yourself hurt or killed out there! Lest you forget, there is a psychic beacon that might be tied to your wellbeing!’

Thaberus looked more ragged than before, he must have been overworked during the days when I was in a coma. Utterly clueless on how to appease him, I resorted to cheating by expressing my regrets with a signature move only performable by girls – casting my sight down, holding both my hands up and extending only my index fingers so they touched each other.

‘I am very sorry.’ I mumbled.

Thaberus continued to glare at me for a while before sitting back down, silently conceding there was not much he could do to punish me. There was a short moment of awkward silence before I spoke. ‘It was just outside the monastery, I had no idea it could be dangerous.’

He scoffed and replied. ‘A lot has happened. After the heretical cults on the planet were exposed, all imperial forces were mobilised to hunt them down, and in return the heretics retaliated where they could.’

‘Why were the heretics near the monastery gate?’ I asked.

‘Nusquam is crawling with a sizable number of these previously hidden heretics, those you met near the gate were the loose agents of these cults. As for what they have been doing here is a long story. Tell me first, how did you get out of the monastery without anyone noticing?’ He asked.

I looked down again while replying, ‘I had a dream, regained some memories and abilities that helped me to get out unnoticed but would rather not share them.’

He cast me a side glance. ‘Keeping secrets now?’

‘So say the man who visited with a psyker, a hierophant and a null who I never met before.’ Still feeling slightly betrayed by him showing up with hidden aces for my final clearance, I retorted for the sake of it but kept the spite out of my tone.

‘Fair point.’ Surprisingly, Thaberus conceded with a nod. He then took down his capotain, placed it on the table next to a delicate tea set before saying, ‘both the psyker and hierophant were semi-retired while the boy was a recent addition. I would not have deployed them if there were other options. Sorry but we had to be sure.’

‘I understand.’ I said with a nod.

‘So what happened? How and why were you outside?’ He asked.

I offered a half truth. ‘I woke up surrounded by monitoring devices with no one around. It was so strange I decided to take a walk and look around.’

It was only natural he did not fully buy my words. Thaberus shot me a wary look before saying, ‘the reason you were left alone was because of an incident. Do you have any recollection?’

I stared blankly at him in response. He let out a sigh before continuing, ‘when we tried to contact your mind via psychic means for the second time, a manifestation of the Emperor appeared.’

‘Say what? What happened?’ I asked, shocked.

Thaberus did a double take on my reaction before continuing. ‘According to testimonies, when my psykers failed to make any progress on contacting your mind, they attempted brute force and that triggered a psychic feedback. A misty form of the Emperor manifested, shimmering in holy light and all. It was just for a very short time, but He gave a warning about messing with you.’

Pausing only to verify my expression, the inquisitor continued with a whisper. ‘This happened right in the heart of a Sororitas monastery and was witnessed by a palatine and a whole squad of celestian sisters who later testified, swearing by the sanctity of their souls. You could only imagine, pardon my expression, the sh*t storm that soon followed.’

‘What exactly did He say?’ I asked with all the seriousness I could muster.

‘Care to take a guess?’ Thaberus asked back.

A traumatic scene flashed before my mind, heightening my pulse. ‘Was it…“your presence here is not authorised” ?’ His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and he nodded grimly before looking into my eyes. ‘My agents confided to me it was probably a protective measure or residual memory rather than a true manifestation, was it though?’

I gulped, betting on [Regalis] to hide my true feelings. No one must find out I might be a runaway from home . I returned his gaze without flinching and said, ‘no comment. Please ask no further on this.’

Thaberus held his gaze for a while longer before looking away. ‘Anyway, the incident resulted in fierce debates that raged for a full day. In the end, the sisters accepted no arguments. Doing what they thought was their best to follow His decree, they evicted most of Kryptopher’s personnel from the monastery and even severely restricted the presence of their own people around you except for routine inspections. Hence why you woke up alone.’

I was speechless. After a short while, the inquisitor started to make himself a hot drink. ‘You want one?’ He asked casually.

‘Yes, please.’ I accepted his offer, figuring it might be unwise to refuse the gesture twice. While Thaberus started on the drinks, I looked at his capotain on the table and noticed scorch marks that were not on it before.

‘What happened?’ I asked while pointing at it.

‘Those?’ Thaberus answered while continuing to prepare our drinks. ‘I was in the northern region and managed to locate some of the people who were partially responsible for ambushing us onboard the Flameraven a while back. They were… less than cooperative upon confrontation.’

I watched as the inquisitor distributed meticulously measured portions of brown decaf powder into two delicate ceramic tea cups. He then poured boiling hot water from a space age kettle into them before continuing his story. ‘Naturally, we liquidated them. Do you want one or two servings of sugar?’

‘I… trust your judgement.’

‘One it is. Cream?’

‘Yes, please.’

As Thaberus continued to make our drinks, I could not help but notice his every action seemed so purposeful and precise. What is going on in the mind of such a person? Curious, I attempted to read his mind discreetly but nothing was forthcoming. Either I was still new at this or he was trained and protected by the serious mental fortitude that inquisitors were famous for. Alternatively, some protective measures might be present.

‘What happened to the war?’ I asked away.

‘About that, while the rebel army was defeated, their leader Kaithan escaped and returned to his stronghold in the north, taking shelter behind fortresses and his people.’ Thaberus said while passing me a steaming drink on a saucer. ‘Careful, it is still hot.’

‘Thank you.’

I reflexively touched the cup with my index finger to test its temperature, but the feeling came off weird. While I could tell the cup was very hot, the spiking flash of pain that should have occurred on contact did not occur. Feeling curious, I put my whole palm on the cup and was rewarded only with a more intense version of the sensation.

This temperature would have hurt for a human .

While I mused over another newly discovered transhuman oddity, Thaberus continued. ‘A direct attack would lead to another drawn-out bloody affair with many forces involved, something we wanted to avoid with the threat of cults and renegade Astartes still present.’

Thaberus then paused and took a sip from his drink, prompting me to do the same. It tasted like premium instant coffee with a twist. This might be the first time I properly consumed a drink after coming to this world. While my mind dwelled on such triviality the inquisitor continued his tale.

‘Meanwhile, despite our best efforts to control information, tales and pict-feeds of your… performance were soon leaked and transmitted around the whole planet.’

Woa? So much for wanting to keep as low profile to the public as possible. Wait, hold on . What was I thinking? They had already built a statue of me! I suddenly had a bad feeling of where this was going as Thaberus spoke again.

‘Obviously, the initial plan of keeping your presence a secret from the public was no longer feasible. Since the Holy Daughter prophecy had long been propagated on Nasquam, everyone quickly connected the dots. After some discussion, we decided to use the situation to our advantage by openly admitting that the prophecy had come to pass. As per our agreement, please remember your current status now.’

Oh yeah, that agreement .

It had been a pivotal point of discussion back then at the fortress, to announce my true identity to the world or not. After a lengthy discussion between the pros and cons, it was decided to leave it in ambiguity.

As Thaberus put it, the weight of my status meant I could not afford being looked upon in a dodgy light by the higher powers, as that would bring unwanted complications in future. On the other hand, to brandish my status as a mini primarch without proper powers to back it up would be utterly foolish, bordering suicidal. All that was even before considering the extra layer of muddy issue of “my personal relationship” with the Emperor. So personally, I would like to delay this becoming a public knowledge as long as possible.

In the light of that it was decided that if I became widely known to the populace during the war, our side would cover up my true identity with the declaration of an emerging imperial saint.

Well, that solo live performance of mine just sealed that deal for good . Thinking about that, I pushed down the urge to facepalm.

So, to the people in the upper echelons in the know, I am the Emperor’s daughter. To the commoners, I would be the Holy Daughter, the prophesied imperial saint. That was the setup which hopefully bought us enough time to gain a proper footing.

‘Luckily for us this incident also provided the best cover up story for your loss of memory, blame it on the coma. Please remember that going forward. By the way, I only know this after the battle, but do you know how many versions of your prophecy are out there on Nusquam?’ He asked.

Stumped, I shook my head.

Thaberus continued, ‘there are about half a dozen versions of these prophecies on the planet. And guess what? As far as I can tell, none of them are true and not even the Ecclesiarchy knows the extent of the full story.’

Huh?

Dumbfounded, I asked to confirm, ‘wait, you are telling me the Church did not know the full details?’

Thaberus took another sip from his drink before answering. ‘From what Canoness Diadinah had revealed to me, only the highest ranking Sororitas of the local Order and the designated dialogus lore keeper were aware of the true prophecy.’

‘So even the Church was kept out? Is that even possible?’

Thaberus shrugged. ‘Think about it, the whole Adepta Sororitas was founded upon the hubris of a single delusional man who almost destroyed the Imperium from within by hijacking religion. So despite serving as its military arm, the Church itself rarely earned the sisters’ full trust.’

Oh yeah, it did appear that way in the lore. In fact most imperial factions were more often than not portrayed as mired with internal power struggles and double crossings all the time.

‘So as far as most folks are concerned, legend has it there will come a time when this world and its region would face calamities beyond reckoning. In its darkest hour a Holy Daughter of the Emperor, probably a living saint with connections to the Sororitas, will appear to turn the tide of darkness. Other than that, all details are vague except for contradicting theories of origin. Huh, bloody convenient if you asked me.’ He said and paused for a while before continuing.

‘Anyway, since the northern region of Nusquam has a more conservative and religious population, we devised a narrative that worked against Kaithan. A quick propaganda campaign was launched, blaming the ritual and breach incident on Kaithan. We accused him of being used as a proxy by the Great Enemy, subsequently nearly damning the whole planet and grievously wounding their saint.’

‘With countless pict-feeds and testimonies from troops on both sides, the narrative successfully turned most of the people against Kaithan, severely eroding his local support until he was all but abandoned by his people. Even the previously silent Ecclesiarchy had come out to formally condemn Kaithan while acknowledging your status as a saint candidate.’

‘Cornered, Kaithan holed up in the most secured part of his personal fortress. By the time our strike force breached the final defence, he was found dead in an apparent suicide. The rest of his faction unconditionally surrendered soon after.’ Thaberus said before taking another swig from his cup.

The images of Kaithan’s profile pictures surfaced in my mind. He was a handsome man with an air of aristocratic grace that would charm most ladies, hardly the type people would associate with an upstart planetary lord with a grisly end.

‘With that the uprising came to an abrupt end. We turned our focus on cleaning up and going after the hidden cults while your Magos friend busied himself with treasure digging. The cults of course would not take this lying down, their agents retaliated where they could against exposed high priority targets.’ He said while glaring at me again, I smiled awkwardly in return.

‘So the civil war has ended. If you are interested in the final numbers of casualties, I have a report here,’ Thaberus concluded while handing me a data-slate. I took the device and glimpsed at the report, feeling a sense of numbness at the numbers.

‘Why the long face?’

Thaberus’ words made me look up from the report. How did he…? The poker face provided by [Regalis] should have been perfect.

‘You can tell?’ I needed to know.

The inquisitor rewarded himself with another half smirk. ‘No, you took too long to read.’

I felt like doing another facepalm for giving that much away, internally I lamented at my inexperience in dealing with a true professional. A sense of uneasiness informed me if I continued to operate carelessly and carried on like this he might eventually figure out I was but a useless civilian on the inside. The thought of that gave me chills as I passed the device back to him.

‘If your primary aim was to cut down casualties, it was a massive success.’ He said while putting the data-slate away, ‘put it this way, you managed to turn what should have been hundreds of thousands of casualties into… localised episodes of tragedies. By the Throne, I have seen industrial accidents resulting in more deaths.’

‘You are correct, I just… dislike these unnecessary loss of human lives.’ I confessed with a nod. He gave me another glance before asking, ‘can you elaborate on that?’

I was stunned by his question and silently cursed myself for slipping my tongue. Am I supposed to explain twenty first century humanitarian ethics to an imperial inquisitor? No, I need to repackage my reason. After organising my thoughts, I gave him an answer. ‘This is a wanton waste of trained personnel, I despise wastage of precious resources.’

Thaberus said nothing, but maintained his steely gaze on me for a moment before looking away and commenting, ‘for your information, more than half of the casualties were caused by either friendly fire, field accidents or belated medical attention. So, that concludes the uprising.’ Done with the war report, Thaberus finished his drink with a large gulp, prompting me to catch up with my own drink.

While I drank in silence, Thaberus switched topics. ‘So, about what you did today at the monastery and the gate, you knew?’

About what? Taken totally out of my depth, I played the only card in hand – strategic ambiguity and replied vaguely, ‘which exact part were you referring to?’

‘Either about the state of Ecclesiarchy on this planet or the implications of helping that man near the gate.’ He said with another shrug.

Wait, implications?

‘Let us start with the Ecclesiarchy, you might have picked it up already but I need you to be informed on this.’ Thaberus said, somehow sounding more serious than before. I gulped, readied myself for whatever was to be revealed.

‘For now, be wary of the Church. Especially the cardinal.’ He whispered, going full conspiracy mode.

Huh, but that was kinda expected . As an atheist in heart who had witnessed countless deeds of misguided religious folks, people who proclaimed to be representing an almighty enigmatic being with a straight face were not exactly on my most trustworthy list.

As that thought crossed my mind the inquisitor whispered again. ‘He might have something to do with the uprising, covert investigations are underway.’

Eh? This sounds even more serious.

‘Can you tell me more?’ I asked.

‘The details are sketchy, but Kaithan might have received secret blessings from the cardinal to take over the planet. Now, the real question of whether he was compromised by Chaos cults is not clear at this point; the sisters were wise to keep their distance from the Church during this ordeal.’ This was not the first time I heard bad stuff about this cardinal.

‘Understood. Then what about the man I helped at the gate?’ I switched topics. Thaberus took out his data-slate again and conjured a report. ‘Citizen Rutibor Sermard, just discharged from the monastery infirmary. A retired general of the planetary defence force, his children are listed in the surrendered ranks. For days he had been petitioning in front of the monastery for an official pardon for his children and the others. Due to his ranking before retirement he had become a sort of de facto spokesperson for people in the same situation.’

‘Why here?’

‘It became the focal point once everyone knew you were being treated here. That statue outside? It was rushed out and delivered to the spot within a day by the devotees.’

The mere mention of that statue made me involuntarily cringe again while he continued. ‘Tensions have been brewing between kin of the surrendered rebels like Rutibor and the others who could not forgive their actions. They insisted every person who participated in the uprising be punished with the harshest sentence possible for the daemonic incursion and getting their prophesied saint, you, hurt- ’ Thaberus suddenly paused at the beeping of a vox call.

‘Speaking of getting you hurt, you should hear this.’ He said while putting a small device on the table and switched it on.

‘Lord Thaberus?’ A deep and strong man’s voice burst forth.

‘Speaking, marshal.’

‘My Lord, I just heard about the incident. On behalf of all the Arbites, I formally apologise for the actions of my subordinates. Is the… saint candidate hurt in any way?’

‘By the Emperor’s grace, not at all. It might have gotten ugly otherwise. There were a few hundred devotees at the scene plus a whole detachment of battle sisters that arrived soon after. For their own safety, your subordinates are temporarily being held inside the monastery.’

‘Thank the Throne! Lord Thaberus, please let me know of your decision on how to deal with this. Kindly convey our deepest regret to the saint candidate.’

‘Very well, I will contact you later.’ Thaberus said and ended the conversation. ‘That was the top Arbites here, Marshal Gallianor Svendul. You heard him, so what to do with the Arbites trooper who shot you?’ He asked casually.

I was hit with a sudden implication that with but a word from me, someone could disappear forever, and that the old saying of “everyone being equal before the law” was forever a pipe dream.

Thinking back on what happened, while at times that Arbites sure felt like an arsehole, I was not sure if that warranted final judgement. Not liking the idea of deciding someone else’s fate due to an interaction gone awry, I made up my mind.

‘Please let the Marshal decide on his punishment.’

‘Is that so?’ Thaberus said, despite his flat tone he seemed a bit surprised I was not asking for anything heavier.

‘Yes. By the way, what were the Arbites doing during the civil war?’ I asked, seriously curious. Thaberus started to make himself more comfortable on the chair before replying. ‘They were completely caught off guard by the whole event and were about to launch a series of suicidal operations to apprehend Kaithan when I arrived. Since then, they had been operating under my directive, using their fortress as the main staging point.’

Fortress? I was about to ask before realising the obvious, it was Fortress Endurance Sigma. The fact that I had stayed inside a supersized Arbites precinct-fortress without realising it made me facepalm internally again.

The inquisitor continued, ‘back to the topic of Citizen Rutibor, your timely aid might be viewed upon as a direct stance to pardon the surrendered troops. I am sure the word is spreading on the street right now. I am also sure your actions have further tarnished the Church’s dubious local reputation, considering your first appearance was with the devotees rather than the representatives of the Church.’

The sudden realisation that everything I do might carry some symbolic weight dawned on me. I definitely went overboard with my stunt and have to be really careful about my actions in future .

Thaberus concluded, ‘now that you are being updated of the recent events, I would like to inform you that my promise to you was kept and it is time for you to fulfil yours.’

My mind played back my conversation with him on that fateful day when I promised him to look for a solution. ‘It is about what to do with the soldiers that got too close to the daemon?’

‘Yes, all twenty thousand of them. Currently kept in a temporary tent city.’

20,000??

Thaberus waited a bit before asking. ‘Am I supposed to be worried when the Holy Daughter is giving me a thousand yard stare?’ I replied to his taunt with a heavy-lidded stare, and he laughed.

‘So, it is time for the newly anointed saint candidate to work on her third miracle.’ Thaberus said with another smirk.

‘Third?’

‘Not keeping score? First was your song that stopped the war, the banishment of the daemon being the second.’ He replied without batting an eye and continued, ‘the third would be on sorting out the troops who might be compromised by the breach. Twenty thousand people might be a small number in the grand scheme of things, but the political implications would be huge.’

He paused a bit before concluding. ‘Should you succeed in this arduous task, it should put enough pressure on the Church to expedite their process and formally canonise you as a living saint, giving you the much needed public political legitimacy to do a lot of things. I would appreciate it if you could look into this quickly, a hunch is telling me complications might arise if this is not resolved soon.’

‘Let’s go then,’ I stood up and declared.

Thaberus was startled for a second before regaining his composure, ‘while I appreciate your enthusiasm, you are not going anywhere. Stay put here for at least a day or two for observation. In my professional opinion, dragging the Holy Daughter around after she just woke up from days of coma will result in the whole Adepta Sororitas revolting against me.’

Oh, right . My shoulders slumped.

The inquisitor continued, ‘besides, do you know anything about the vetting process against warp taint? I will arrange the psykers to brief you as part of their break. They are currently overworked as it is.’

I realised I would have to savour a short, precious breather before being swamped by whatever was thrown my way again.

‘One last thing, about the insidious heretical cults,’ Thaberus spoke again just as I thought we were done here. ‘From what we uncovered, I believed they all hail to a single leader at the very top. This person, an arch-heretic with vast forbidden knowledge, should have been at the ritual site during the breach and might have survived.’

‘Didn’t you mention only finding dead people at the site?’ I asked while recalling what was mentioned.

‘Yes, more like chunks and debris of dead people,’ Thaberus nodded, ‘we later found a fresh set of footprints leading out of the site and disappearing into the wilderness. Since we could not find anything of significance on other human remains, I suspect this single survivor might be the arch-heretic.’

Chapter 45: V2 CH.8 CANDIDATE

Chapter Text

‘Sister Preacher Maylin. That song again?’

Maylin turned and saw a young man who wore a similar preacher’s outfit like her own walking over.

‘Brother Preacher Xavier. How are things on your side?’

Like herself, Xavier was one of many newly sanctioned preachers hastily recruited as part of a massive faith validation endeavour for the surrendered masses.

‘It surprised me, but the people here exhibit more faith than I expected.’ Xavier said with a satisfying nod.

‘I have the same observation, the emergence of a living saint must have rekindled their faith in the Emperor.’

‘She is still a saint candidate at the moment right?’

‘For the moment that is true. But in my opinion, considering what we have witnessed it would be outrageous if she doesn’t qualify for her contributions.’

‘Agreed.’ Xavier said before asking, ‘so any new development on her condition?’

‘Nothing.’ Maylin said with a sigh before switching topics, ‘on other news, some linguistics experts have been cracking at the lyrics of that song. Most now agree that it was made up of multiple ancient Terran languages.’

‘Really?’

‘For real, the current most trending topic was guessing its title. From what little they had translated, “It’s Only Love” and “Beautiful World” are leading the poll.’

Xavier smiled, ‘I can always count on you for any latest news on our mysterious saviour. Another sermon session is coming up for me. I’ll see you around.’

Maylin watched as Xavier left, leaving her alone with that song in the air. That song, that mysterious song in ancient human tongues that stopped the war. The very song that was credited by many for saving their lives, and later that of the whole planet after the heretical scheme came to light.
Everything felt so surreal.

There was an old saying, “there are centuries where nothing happens; and there are weeks where centuries happen”. Maylin was definitely living on that latter part as the centuries old stability enjoyed by her world disappeared with the recent happenings.

The Holy Daughter prophecy, a local legend with many variants that even Maylin herself had deemed silly, had actually come to pass. Prompted by the recent earth shattering events, Maylin started doing her own research on the legend’s history whenever she had time to spare.

From what she was able to discover, records mentioning the Holy Daughter prophecy started appearing about a thousand years ago, coinciding with the time the local minor Sororitas Order was established on the planet.

Digging further, for the first time Maylin noted the Adeptus Ministorum, commonly known as the Ecclesiarchy, or simply the Church, seemed to have a standing policy of localising its teachings and subverting any local legends to become its own. When the Church encountered the Holy Daughter prophecy, it simply took it under its wings to be listed amongst the countless other imperial legends and prophecies. In a galaxy mired with endless war, unrest and despair, no one paid heed to another story that provided a glimmer of hope.

Then it actually came to pass, a mysterious girl arrived and saved the planet from the brink of disaster. If the news was to be believed, she ended the largest battle of the civil war while preventing massive casualties, narrowly averted Nusquam’s damnation and possibly martyred herself to stop a rampaging daemon.

It all sounded so outlandish. Nusquam had not seen a major war in three hundred years, let alone witnessing a daemonic incursion. Personally for Maylin, the notion that a living saint could have emerged and passed away before anyone noticed in this backwater imperial world was more outrageous than all the ridiculous events combined. It even made the young preacher wonder for a moment if her homeworld was abandoned by the God-Emperor, to have their saint taken away so quickly.

Triggered with a sense of melancholy, Maylin took out her data-slate and conjured a picture on its display. It was a picture she had viewed countless times, but still struck her with a sense of awe whenever she laid her eyes on it.

It was a picture of a Sororitas Rhino armoured transport tank, and sticking out of its opened hatch was the breathtaking sight of a regal-looking girl glowing with a blinding halo. Illuminating a backdrop of a darkened rainy sky, the glowing girl held a sword in one hand, pointed forwards.

Maylin recognised the sword to be the priceless relic of the local Sororitas Order; she had only seen it once in person from a distance. In the picture the relic sword was covered in bright blue flames and appeared slightly too large on the outstretched arm of its petite user.

They said the picture was taken before the entire army in the frontlines confronted a towering monstrosity that shook off enough firepower to level a city. Details on what happened was sketchy, but supposedly in the end the warp entity was banished and the girl greatly injured in the process.

As the news spread, it soon became a point of public contention and an embarrassment for the Church. People could not get over the fact that the Church was silent and unaware that the Holy Daughter prophecy had come to pass while its cardinal was off world on yet another dubious pilgrimage.

The Church generally had a standard approach for power struggles between the nobility for planetary governorship; any such local disputes were tolerable as long as the winner maintained their loyalty to the Imperium and the God-Emperor. However, recent events with the dark ritual and daemonic incursion had led many to suspect that the uprising was being instigated by agents of the Great Enemy, leading the Church to finally speak up.

Breaking their silence, the Ecclesiarchy quickly started a series of propaganda campaigns with their signature self-righteousness, demanding the harshest punishment possible by executing all the surrendered troops. However their blunt proposal was rejected by the Planetary Governor Khatalina von Klaeus, and her stance was backed by the various powerful imperial factions that secured the victory.

Even the Church’s own military arm, Order of The Shining Beacon of the Adepta Sororitas, which contributed a lot to the victory, objected to the proposal as the Holy Daughter herself had promised leniency for the surrendered troops.

Then there was the Inquisition that appeared out of nowhere, the all powerful branch of the Imperium took control of the situation and quoted in a statement saying, “this world can ill afford such a senseless loss of trained personnel in these trying times. Such actions could potentially aid the hidden enemy”.

Behind the scenes, the Ecclesiarchy also suffered severe backlash from the pious population in the north who had a lot of family members within the surrendered ranks. Holding little true power in the local political landscape, the Church’s demands went nowhere. It was then the Inquisition reached out and requested aid for validating the integrity of faith for the surrendered troops.

Desperate to prove its worth, the Ecclesiarchy recruited many preachers for the task. Employed as part of the massive effort, Maylin had been working tirelessly on her assigned tasks for the past days. Between the sermons she was giving, Maylin had been doing intensive interview sessions with random individuals, looking for the slightest trace of heresy.

The overall results had surprised her. Instead of the typical Nusquamese laid back attitude towards religion, most of the interviewees exhibited a renewed sense of faith.

‘The Emperor gave us a second chance. I felt reborn and have no intention of wasting it this time,’ one said.

‘We had all been fooled, can’t wait to get back at the heretics!’ Declared a soldier fuming with righteous fury.

‘I caught a far away glimpse of the daemon and need no further convincing. The Emperor is the only reason humanity still exists in this world,’ an officer confessed with a thousand yard stare.

‘I saw the light of the saint with my own eyes, preacher. She was at the forefront of the forces that came to vanquish the daemon, the sight alone was worth a thousand sermons. I wish you were there to see it yourself, viewing it from a blurry pict-feed did it no justice,’ a young trooper said to her.

To witness a living saint doing the God-Emperor’s work in her lifetime… Oh what she would do to witness such a sight . Maylin began daydreaming as she walked back to work when a cultured voice called out from behind, breaking her thoughts.

‘Preacher Maylin?’

‘Yes?’ Maylin looked back and was surprised to see an individual she never expected to meet in this place. There at a short distance away was a man wearing the distinct garment of an Ecclesiarchy deacon, flanked by two robed crusaders.

Maylin blinked. The exquisite details on the deacon’s garment, together with the glittering of his many magnificent Ecclesiastical trinkets, informed her she was not seeing things.

Why was a deacon directly addressing a lowly preacher?

Then to Maylin’s shock, instead of asking her to come forwards, the deacon with his bodyguards made a beeline for her. As they approached, the crusaders’ sheer intimidating presence along with their towering storm shields kept everyone else at a respectable distance, scattering the crowd in their way.

Having no idea what she had done to attract the personal attention of such a high ranking individual, an ominous feeling descended on Maylin. Making the matter worse, she struggled to recall the name of the deacon in front of her. Maylin had never fancied her chance of meeting the few active deacons due to her lowly status, and thus never committed their details to memory.

‘Esteemed deacon, it is such an honour. I did not expect to meet you in a place like this.’ Maylin formed the aquila sign while bowing, silently praying for the man to not notice her skipping his name.

Luckily for her, formality seemed to be the last thing on the man’s mind. ‘We go wherever the Emperor’s work demands,’ replied the deacon with a politician’s smile before revealing the purpose of his visit. ‘Maylin Hadmayer, you have been summoned.’

‘Pardon? Summoned?’

‘Yes, you are to drop everything and come with me now.’

‘But my work here…’

‘Pay it no heed, arrangements have been made.’

‘May I enquire who exactly had summoned me?’ Maylin asked, her mind a messy blank with the sudden development. She looked at the deacon, begging for an answer. A hint of frustration flashed on the man’s face for an instant before he indulged her curiosity.

‘You are being summoned by the archdeacon himself.’

And so, Maylin soon found herself inside the Ministorum grand cathedral. After walking through many heavy doors leading to the second highest tower, Maylin entered an office with a mind-bogglingly luxurious interior.

In the centre of the office was a huge desk cut from a single slab of marble, its delicately carved surfaces decorated with many golden and platinum elements. Behind said desk sat the second most powerful religious figure on the planet, Archdeacon Ricene Venarrin himself.

Maylin remembered the man to be nearing a hundred years old, yet he looked barely fifty and was still quite handsome with all the deaging treatments.

The archdeacon appeared to be deep in thought and merely nodded to acknowledge his visitors before signalling the others to leave with a wave. After her escorts bowed and left, Maylin quickly performed her greeting to the archdeacon and knelt.

It took a while before Ricene broke the silence. ‘Preacher Maylin, welcome and please rise. Tell me, have you dedicated your further studies to any of the orthodox creeds yet?’

Upon hearing his words, Maylin rose but kept her head bowed respectfully. ‘Venerable archdeacon. To answer your question, I have yet to master my fundamental studies to decide on my dedication to a particular creed.’

The man behind the huge desk nodded before asking, ‘do you know why you were summoned?’

‘Pardon my ignorance, your grace, I have no idea.’

Ricene stayed silent for a moment before saying, ‘as of this morning, the saint candidate has awakened and seemed healthy. She even showed the Emperor’s light at the gate of the Sororitas monastery fortress in front of hundreds of devotees. The news has been suppressed for now, but not for long.’

Upon hearing the shocking development, Maylin involuntarily gasped and looked up. ‘Venerable archdeacon, that… that is marvellous news! The Throne be praised! Did you get to speak to her?’ It took a second before the overly excited young preacher realised she had interrupted the archdeacon, so she quickly lowered her head again.

To her relief, Ricene did not appear to be offended, instead he answered with a hint of excitement. ‘Yes, while it was unfortunately short, I spoke with her.’

‘May I ask what was your impression of the saint candidate?’ Maylin asked, unable to contain her excitement.

‘By the Throne, she had an otherworldly spiritual presence that is difficult to define…’ Ricene replied before trailing off, lost in memory. It took a moment before he spoke again with a tone of wonder. ‘How do I put it… she radiates warmth and calmness, but what really captivated me was her quiet confidence. Combining those qualities with her unearthly beauty, she reminded me of everything wonderful in this world. When she is around I find it hard to take my attention off her. You will understand the moment you meet her in person.’

Maylin was slightly taken aback by the excessive statement, surely the archdeacon did not just confess to gawking at the saint candidate? And why was she here again?

‘Venerable archdeacon. While that was most enlightening and I thank you for your insight, may I inquire about the purpose of my visit?’ Maylin asked.

Realising he might have gone overboard, Ricene awkwardly cleared his throat. ‘Ah… yes, the Ecclesiarchy needs a representative operating beside the saint candidate immediately. Due to the past few… unfortunate blunders, we cannot afford to be excluded from her future actions. Since his holiness is off-world, the task of selecting a representative falls to me.’

‘But alas, this is no simple matter. Naturally almost everybody wants to work beside a saint candidate and get the chance to witness the God-Emperor’s miracles up close. The choice however is far from simple. Give any senior clergyman the position and all his rival peers would scream favouritism, plus it will be viewed as patronage to the individual’s particular creed.’ Ricene explained with a sigh.

Maylin stayed silent, not sure why she was hearing the archdeacon complaining about the difficulties of his position.

‘So for the sanity and stability of the Church, the representative in question needs to be freed from such burdens and preferably a female due to obvious reasons of propriety.’ When the archdeacon finally finished his rambling, he gave Maylin a long thoughtful look before coming to a decision.

‘This is where you come in, Preacher Maylin. Do you know that due to the presence of the Sororitas Order, there are but a handful of preachers in this world deemed suitable for this honour I am about to bestow onto you. Rejoice, you are very lucky.’

Maylin did not believe what she was hearing and felt her head going numb just by thinking about the conclusion of that logic train. She could not help but look up to see Archdeacon Ricene smiling somewhat self-deprecatingly as he slowly walked over to her.

‘If I were any younger and in a suitable position, I would do anything for this. Junior Preacher Maylin Hadmayer, heed your new duty,’ the archdeacon said while handing her a delicate letter with an official Adeptus Ministorum seal.

‘I, Ricene Venarrin, Archdeacon of the Adeptus Ministorum on Nusquam, hereby officially assign you as the representative of the Ecclesiarchy to the saint candidate. Praise the Lord; praise the God-Emperor, our saviour!’

* * *

Somewhere on Nusquam, a man awakened from his restless slumber and groaned. He found himself inside a shadowy room, his pitch black surroundings broken only by the flickering of multiple monitor displays nearby.

Every so often, the flickering streams on the displays temporarily lit up the room, illuminating a man with an impressive physique yet looking absolutely miserable. A long, unkempt beard hung from a face etched with lines of exhaustion. His skin was rough and weathered while his once piercing eyes constantly darted around wearily, as if searching for something.

After failing to locate whatever horrors haunted his dreams, he put up a hand to shield his eyes from the flickering lights. Calming down slightly, the man groaned again as painful memories of his life’s work burning flooded back to him.

Everything had fallen apart.

While he knew his supposed masters were fickle beings, he could not fathom what had transpired. He was close, so close to becoming one of them. The muffled pain on his head grew more pronounced, as it did everytime the idea of losing his shot for ascendency crossed his mind.

Just days ago, his many decades of scheming and meticulous planning was coming to fruition. Even with the surprise activation of a psychic beacon that came out of nowhere, everything was on track. He was but a step away from his ascension, this close to achieving immortality and made eternal. His masters on the other side had promised, they even marked him out as one of their favoured servants.

The man had all he needed to reach the apex of existence. By his design the dimwitted imperials were tricked into fighting amongst themselves, and their deaths would be the sacrifice to fuel his ritual. From a hidden site secured with careful use of his vast resources, he and his followers created a breach in reality, opening up the planet for a daemonic invasion. According to his plan, the summoned daemons would assault the populace, further fueling the ritual to allow even more daemons into reality, from there the cascading nature should do the rest.

But then things started to go awry. The ongoing civil war between the governor and her half brother was strangely not providing enough casualties to feed his ritual.

Just as doubts began sinking in, something in the Sea of Souls answered his calls, something huge and powerful. It was so enormous that the breach expanded as it tore through the opening in spacetime and wriggled itself into reality. The thing he summoned, or the thing that had summoned itself, was beyond his understanding. Unlike any known servants of the Holy Great Four, what came through from the breach was at first a huge lump of shadow.

Everyone was puzzled until it started to solidify, its shadowy form materialising into bones, sinews, muscles and more until eventually a towering black winged daemon rose into reality. A greater daemon. They had summoned a greater daemon on their first attempt. Seeing the magnificence of their success, everyone cheered.

The man was ecstatic to say the least. While many questions lingered, like why the possession offerings were not taken and no one recognised what type of daemon it was, the fact that it did not immediately attack meant the ritual worked as intended. With this magnificent being leading the charge, the downfall of this world was all but assured.

While the cultists were ecstatic, the newly formed monstrosity that barely fit in the massive underground storage hall paid no attention to the puny mortals around it. It raised its muscular hand and observed it, as if tasting and experiencing its new existence.

The man approached the imposing warp spawn to initiate communication. ‘Greetings, great one. I am Grigerii Morvich, the one in charge of this congregation that brings forth your blessed existence. May I ask which of the Holy Great Four do thou hail from?’

The thing slowly turned its head to face the cult leader, surprising everyone as it communicated via telepathy. +The Holy Great Four? Take a guess then. Which of the Holy Four?+ It asked.

Suddenly feeling pressured, Grigerii blinked and managed a response. ‘I… I am totally lost, great one. My apologies but my studies seemed totally inadequate.’

+Take a guess.+ It insisted with a non-negotiable tone, the malicious bale lights in its eyes glowed with increasing intensity. Cornered, Grigerii thought for a moment before deciding this was a trick question. He gulped, betting it all on his intuition. ‘My answer is that thou do not hail from any of the Great Four.’

There was a short moment of silence before the warp monstrosity started to laugh, or it tried to; what came out was a poor imitation of laughter, a terrible bestial sound that was out of this world. Despite its eldritch nature, the inhuman sound was clearly laced with malevolence and mockery. The daemon then silently raised its hand to the air where a colossal axe materialised. After grabbing the weapon, it announced.

+Correct. For your reward, you shall be the last person I kill in this world.+

Then the massacre began.

Grigerii found himself at the door of one of his many hideouts some time later. He had no recollection of how he arrived covered in bruises and wounds, but he remembered losing everything.

That thing. That cursed thing he summoned disregarded his status as a marked one and took all from him. His many devout followers slaughtered, his precious artifact taken and worst of all, his powers were stripped away. It had somehow denied him the connection to the Ether and made him a normal man.

Confused and scared out of his wits, Grigerii had been hiding in the hideout ever since. While he was keeping a tab on the outside world via the news feed, emotionally he was utterly devastated, barely coping with his fall from the peak of existence straight down to the gutters.

Anyone else with a lesser mental fortitude would have gone insane, Grigerii was sure of that. The fact that he was still alive proved he was made of sterner stuff.

Slightly reassured, Grigerii turned on his bed and his hand touched something wet. Jolting to his senses he quickly switched on the lights and what he saw petrified him. On top of the pillows of his massive bed was a mess of blood and organic matter. It looked like a crime scene where someone’s brain was blown off. Wait…

Grigerii suddenly recalled what had really happened. He was not as stern as he imagined. Faced with an impossible scenario, after days of soul-shattering despair, in a moment of weakness he finally put a gun to his own head.

Or did he imagine his suicide?

Grigerii turned around and saw the used pistol on the bedside. Slowly he picked up the weapon and checked its ammunition count. Upon finding out a single shot was missing, he felt every strand of hair on him standing on their end.

But how? Grigerii was about to give into insanity when an inhuman voice sounded in his head.

+The Ether is much bigger than you think.+

It was that thing.

Realising what was residing in him, Grigerii screamed, something he had not done for more than a century. Before he could do anything else his body froze, then a searing headache hit him as his memories were read by the entity.

After a while, the thing inside him came to a conclusion.

+My splinter and the target annihilated each other? Hmmm… So be it.+ It said while slowly holding up the pistol and pointed it at Grigerii’s own head, seemingly about to finish what he had attempted once.

‘NO! WAIT!’ Grigerii screamed desperately but was unable to control his body.

+I had kept my promise and made you whole once.+

‘Please! I beseech thee! I offer thee everything!’ Grigerii begged as tears rolled down uncontrollably and he wetted himself. While he knew better than anyone about the futility of appeasing to such an entity, he had to try.

Just when Grigerii believed he would die for real this time, his gaze became fixated on something. There on one of the many flickering monitors was a news update with bold letterings: SAINT CANDIDATE AWAKENED.

The news flash was accompanied by a series of pictures, one of which depicted a glowing girl on top of a Rhino tank hatch, her arm stretched out, holding a flaming blue sword that pointed forward.

The thing inside Grigerii went quiet, and then he felt a series of intense emotions bubbling over him. It started with flashes of anger mixed with amusem*nt and then, fascination. The thing pondered for a moment before finally deciding on a course of action.

+Grigerii Morvich. I will make you an offer.+

Some time later in another hidden location, a group of people were whispering their worries in a meeting room. It was a gloomy event, the sombre atmosphere of the gathering amplified by the news featured on the wall mounted main display.

‘So, she has awakened.’

‘But our master is still missing.’

‘We need effective leadership now! Our brothers and sisters are being hunted on all fronts.’

‘Shouldn’t we be appointing a new leader at this point?’

‘Who should it be? Surely not you?’

‘Careful of your tone. I, Stellar Clamour, second in command to the master until his unfortunate disappearance, am the most qualified around here to lead.’

‘You wish to lead us? Over my dead body.’

As the meeting was heating up, there was a commotion at the door and a runner came in without knocking. Panting, the runner made an exciting announcement.

‘Everyone! The… the master is back!’

‘What?!’

‘Where is he?’

Before anyone could get a proper answer, a figure barged into the meeting room uninvited, a figure everyone here knew well. It was the missing leader Grigerii himself, looking sharp and alert.

‘Master!’

‘Rejoice, my disciples. The wait is over.’ Grigerii said.

‘What happened?’

‘Where were you this whole time, master?’

Grigerii raised a palm to calm the gathering and said. ‘There were setbacks, but I have returned.’

‘Master, what happened to you?’ Asked Stellar, the person who had suggested electing a new leader just then.

‘Brother Stellar, why such a question?’ Grigerii asked.

‘You feel… different. I can no longer sense your powers.’

The room of acolytes quieted down upon hearing one of them utter such a question. Grigerii however did not immediately answer, instead his attention became fixated on the main display on the wall where another news about the saint candidate was streaming. It became so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

Eventually Stellar broke the silence. ‘Master?’

‘Oh… excuse me. But to answer you, yes I still have my powers.’ Grigerii turned his attention back to the gathering. ‘In fact, I am stronger than ever. Allow me to demonstrate.’ He smiled then gestured with his hand as if forming a fist.

In the next instance Stellar screamed as his head was slowly crushed by an invisible force. He grabbed his aching cranium with both hands, wailed and fell over, rolling on the ground. Then Grigerii’s hand closed into a fist and Stellar’s head popped, spilling blood and brain matter everywhere.

While the rest of his acolytes became petrified, Grigerii asked casually, ‘anyone else wishes to usurp my position?’

None dared to reply.

‘Good. Listen to what I have to say carefully.’ Grigerii said, the smile disappearing from his face. ‘We have encountered setbacks but the path forward is still open to us.’ Grigerii proclaimed, his eyes brimming with unnatural powers.

‘Didn’t my prediction of the Astronomican’s light fading come to pass? I have since received further revelations from the Ether. I tell you all now, no slaves of the corpse god, no governor, no Inquisition, not even that upstart false saint can deny us our destiny! Gather our people, heed my instructions and we shall take back what is rightfully ours. To the promised world!’ The cult leader concluded with his fist held high.

‘The master is back! To the promised world!’ His followers cried out enthusiastically.

‘Promised world!’

‘Promised world!’

‘PROMISED WORLD!’

Chapter 46: V2 CH.9 A NEW DAY

Chapter Text

A twin of Terra in the middle of nowhere.

Legend has it the planet was discovered during the height of the Great Crusade, when legions of Astartes were claiming much of the galaxy for the Imperium of Man, a fabled era when the Emperor still walked among mortals. By then the Imperial Expeditionary Forces had claimed so many planets they only bothered to name the significant ones and simply tagged the rest with denominations.

As an unassuming planet orbiting a far off, non-strategic star system, this then newly discovered world would have been assigned a generic label and fated for obscurity if not for a discovery; that its basic parameters were uncannily similar to the throne world. The planet was of similar size to Terra with almost equal amount of gravity and revolution length around its sun, and it even came with a single relatively large moon of similar size to Luna.

In an administrative council meeting whose official records had long been lost, a member of the attendees had playfully proclaimed the lost twin of Terra had been found. That unusual statement prompted others to do a double take and ask, ‘where?’

‘Nusquam.’ Someone replied.

‘Planet Nusquam? Oh, wait…’

Literally meaning nowhere in high gothic, the incident provoked a rare round of haughty laughter in an otherwise routinely dull meeting and the name stayed till this day.

* * *

It was early morning in the Nusquamese capital city of Acieslux and I was entranced by its sight. On a busy street of the megapolis I stood as an observer as a tsunami of people flowed like human waves around me.

Many thousands of light years away from the cradle of humanity, people made up of ethnicities I neither knew nor recognised flourished under an alien sky.

Over many thousand years of additional continuous evolution had subtly changed humanity in ways I could not properly pinpoint, every face around me seemed more defined and sharpened in features than the crowd from old Earth. Despite the slight difference in appearance, like their ancestors these people busied themselves with the hustling and bustling of daily life beneath the shadows of super skyscrapers, a scene I was familiar with.

While the cityscape of Acieslux would put every modern city I knew to shame, it was considered underdeveloped compared to the notoriously ridiculous hive cities of the Imperium where each literally housed billions of people.

The rowdy city centre at the ground level was crawling with endless streams of mundane vehicles, while the rich and powerful zipped around on levitating speeders overhead. The streets were dotted with countless business establishments, each filled to the brim with their patrons. Holographic sponsored messages looped endlessly at prime locations while floating advertising contraptions of all kinds dominated the overhead air space. Every usable space was either an advertisem*nt or an imperial propaganda message, and I was dazzled by the whole ultra metropolitical sight.

In a way, I felt like a mediaeval person who was suddenly introduced to a modern twentieth century city. Yet in this overwhelming spectacle I found myself attracted to a particular scene. In the sea of flowing humanity was a little girl who wore a bright jacket piggybacking on the shoulders of her supposed father. My attention was glued to her carefree smile until the pair disappeared around a corner. Then it dawned on me that my old self would never care for such a scene. Just who was looking at that, me or…?

It is me, or you. It is complicated.

Syrine’s words rang again in my head, I felt a sense of nausea just thinking about that and recalled my psychic projection from the city centre to a place closer to my body.

The ground below me shifted and the crowd changed from workers rushing to work, to pilgrims gathered near the Sororitas monastery’s gate. I walked around and saw a bandaged Rutibor giving a speech to a huge crowd beneath my statue. A squad of battle sisters provided basic security nearby. I stayed for a while and listened to his story, about how my random act of kindness had validated his actions, but soon decided to end the surveillance session after experiencing embarrassment from hearing his overexaggerated praises.

The sensation of having a body returned and I opened my eyes to my current lodging, a nice room attached with a small living quarters inside the monastery cathedral located at one of the top towers.

*Beep*

A servo-skull floated over. My own personal servo-skull, a gift from Kryptorer passed to me by Kira. I was given the choice between a brand new, fully synthetic drone or one made with a real human skull, whose cranium was said to be retrieved from a favourite valet of his who had “died gloriously in service to the Omnissiah”. No prize for guessing my choice here, I named it Solace, the synthetic skull probe side kick.

With a flick of my mind, I connected to Solace and was updated on all the headlines of the major news channels. As the old saying goes, truth is the first casualty of war, and here was a world enslaved to a regime that was at war for ten thousand years.

I was not even sure what I expected but the truth spoke for itself; there were multiple major news channels and information portals but none was telling the full or real story. The Imperium’s information control machine was way ahead and in full control of the narrative, misdirecting and compartmentalising events while dropping smoke screens over crucial details. There was no mention of the missing Astronomicon light nor the appearance of a new psychic beacon anywhere, despite the fact a huge silver beam on the horizon could be perceived whenever I went psychically active.

Next I turned my attention to Kryptorer’s excavation progress updates. The process had turned out to be more difficult than he anticipated. From the report it seemed like it would need another few days for his teams to reach the buried entrance of the hidden vault. Progress had been severely hampered by complications of moving heavy breaching drills into position while complying to the demands of the Sororitas on working on their sacred ground in the inner sanctum, the place that started it all.

While I was very curious about the contents of the vault myself, deep down another part of me was dead worried of what we would, or would not find inside. I had tried to send my astral projection over, but this skill was still very new to me and the site proved too far for my amateurish control. In the end I could only wait for the result.

Would Kryptorer withdraw his support for me if we found little to nothing useful inside? How should I navigate this messy and potentially cut throat imperial politics now that the immediate threat was no more? You could say I am a worrywart but my mind could not help but wonder about the future.

It was still early in the morning so I redid a mental recap of what happened yesterday. I became acquainted with the senior primaris psyker Yehai Mei. The way she sort of freaked out when I imitated the psychic duo by bowing and calling her Mei “Jie” or elder sister Mei was low-key hilarious.

We got along fine and I learned about her story of almost dying to a sudden surge of psychic powers after arriving here. She was saved by a medically induced coma and the help of having Zaki, the null boy, being nearby to stabilise her symptoms. I never knew you could use a pariah like that. After that the rest of the day was spent on learning about the Chaos taint vetting and purification processes. It was a mixture of theories, practices, rituals and pseudo science, which I was able to distil into a simpler, more efficient process with insights that came to me naturally.

At the end of the day I was confident enough to request for trial runs. If everything went smoothly on the backend I should be able to put my theories to the test later today.

Feeling restless, I sat up from my bed and looked at the mirror on the wall. With my enhanced eyesight, the dim light of the room did little to obscure the reflection of a breathtaking girl staring back. My sight was locked onto the enchanting scene but I soon felt like being judged by a demigoddess and had to look away.

The Sororitas had provided me with the best stuff in their powers, everything from accommodations to food was top quality. But truth be told, my life since waking up has been a total mess.

Knowing neither hunger, thirst nor fatigue in the human sense, my daily life’s rhythm went totally out of whack. Baseline, fundamental questions like should I eat and drink normally was a mystery. I was also dead worried about the nonexistent need to frequently visit a toilet. The necessity to examine all these mundane issues closely made me feel like a newborn with an incredible sense of uneasiness.

I got up from my bed and walked towards my only possessions in the room, a collection of huge luggages in a corner which was brought over from the Fortress. I had since been taking stock of their contents in order to find out more information about myself. As far as I could tell, simple looking white robes were the most abundant item in the collection, more than enough for me to wear daily on a washing rotation. Guess these would be my default attire, like the black turtle neck sweatshirts for a certain infamous billionaire in my time.

There was a set of god tier quality self grooming tools that was identified by [Analytica] to be made of adamantium alloy, one of the strongest substances known to the Imperium and typically used to produce high grade military gear like the space marine terminator plates. I reckoned these tools might outlast some unfortunate empires. Then there were some tubes of ultra concentrated food that looked like toothpaste, some space age toiletries, bottles of perfumes, random trinkets and pairs of footwear.

As I was going through my stuff a familiar sensation crept up, it was the feeling of an acquainted psyker trying to contact me via telepathy. I accepted the request to converse.

+Morning, Lady Syrine.+

+Good morning, Tsalieh.+

+My Lady, sorry to disturb you this early in the morning but Throne Agent Herlindya will like to see you shortly for an urgent briefing. ETA forty minutes.+

+Noted, thank you.+

Herlindya Winsen, the quiet and nice looking brunette who more or less functioned like a secretary to Inquisitor Thaberus, would be arriving soon. While she always looked professional and reserved, I remembered seeing her go batsh*t crazy when Interrogator Amael got killed in a vision. It got me curious as I was not sure how far one could trust information glimpsed from a simulated scenario.

I hurriedly washed up and prepared myself, which admittedly was little to no work thanks to the passive ability of [Regalis]. Even with my superhuman perception I struggled to find minute flaws from my reflection in the washroom mirror.

Herlindya arrived soon after, looking tactical yet elegant in her dark inquisitorial attire. She was flanked by two people, one was a professional looking gunman armed with a lasgun while the other a hooded scribe. The scribe held up a device and did some scanning around before nodding to Herlindya. She nodded back, left her escorts behind and walked into my room, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor.

‘Lady Syrine, morning.’ Herlindya smiled and bowed, as she did so a pleasant and uplifting scent drifted over. Perfume? As I wondered about it a flurry of information appeared in my mind. Scent Analysis: Aldehydes, Neroli, Bergamot, Lemon, Iris, Jasmine, Rosa, Orris Root, Lily, Civet, Sandalwood, Musk, Amber, Vetiver, Vanilla, Patchouli, Ethanol, Androstenone…

Just when I thought that was way too much information, further details were still coming in. Wait, was that… the scent of a man hidden beneath all the layers? Is she really having a relationship with the Interrogator as suggested by the vision?

‘Morning, Herlindya.’ I said while doing a double take on the pretty throne agent and she eyed me back curiously. While I normally would never busy myself with the personal life of others, in this case I yearned to learn if the vision was correct.

I decided to probe and casually asked, ‘by the way, where is Interrogator Amael?’ Caught off guard, Herlindya’s thoughts leaked for a fraction of a second and I caught glimpses of her memories about the passionate session she had with Amael from yesterday night. It was so abrupt I almost broke character but was saved by an old friend.

[Regalis] Action override-

From my deadpan surface reaction, it took an instance for Herlindya to dismiss the notion that I had any interest in her lover. She put her professional smile back on and said, ‘the interrogator is on another mission to root out the cults. Why the sudden interest in his whereabouts?’
My dear, I am so, so, so sorry about the privacy intrusion. Let me make it up to you by making your day.

I shook my head and smiled. ‘Nothing in particular, I had an epiphany because you looked extra charming today. It just dawned on me that you and the interrogator would make a nice looking couple together.’

Herlindya looked shocked for a second before breaking into a hearty giggle. ‘Lady Syrine, I never knew you could be such a sweet talker. Unfortunately time is scarce and we have to get down to business. By the inquisitor’s order I am here to quickly brief you on the latest developments.’

I nodded and she started her briefing.

‘Your request for the test candidates for purification trials have been expedited. For security purposes, we had prioritised those who are exhibiting extreme withdrawal symptoms after their metaphysical exposure. They will be arriving here later today.’

‘Can you tell me more about these symptoms?’

‘While individual reactions with sudden exposure to warp entities in close proximity vary a lot from one another, these are the individuals who practically became vegetables due to extreme shock. Such patients will usually just wither away if left alone but more often than not be administered with the Emperor’s peace to prevent possession risks.’

The Emperor’s peace is a fancy term for euthanasia.

‘So basically they are just people waiting to die.’ I nodded, somewhat relieved by a selfish notion that I could do no worse for them.

‘We have the means and methods to treat cases like these, just not the capacity to handle this many people.’ Herlindya clarified. ‘I was briefed on the method yesterday.’ I nodded in reply.

On paper the inquisition had three psykers versus the workload of 20,000 people, that was even before considering the slow and archaic procedures involved if we do it by the book. Even a humanist like me had to admit mass execution looked like a logical solution for such a hopeless looking scenario.

There might be a way out of this, but I had to test my theory first.

‘Up next, the Church is sending their representative over.’ Herlindya said while passing me her data-slate. ‘Junior Preacher Maylin Hadmayer, a local citizen of twenty Terran standard years old, recently sanctioned as a preacher. We had gone through her background and found little notes of interest.’

‘A new preacher?’ I looked at the profile picture on the device. Defying my expectation, she was surprisingly decent looking.

‘It appears so, her family was of average standing without powerful connections. You could say the Church had sent over a nobody, which is unexpected considering this is a very sought after position.’

‘Why do you think that is the case?’

‘We had gone through various theories. In conclusion, either the Church wanted to avoid heavy infighting or they are sending over a sacrificial pawn. Due to the extremely high profile nature of your case it should be the first.’ Internally I shivered at the unspoken implications on the latter.

‘What will happen if I decline their representative?’ I asked while handing back Herlindya her data-slate. She shrugged, ‘they probably will just elect a new person.’

Huh, I got a hunch if I refused this candidate, they might fall back to their usual demographic of grumpy or saintly old men.

‘By the way Governor Khatalina will be visiting shortly. May I act as your assistant in the meantime?’ Herlindya asked. It felt strange and I was still very new to being a big deal. But obviously I needed all the help when it came to real imperial politics so I nodded. ‘Much obliged. Please take care of me.’

Khatalina arrived soon after, the impeccable timing solidified my impression that all the VIPs on the planet were under tight inquisitorial surveillance.

I was seated in a meeting room when Khatalina stepped through the door. The governor was led in by Welminah and flanked by multiple advisors of her own, looking immaculate in her highly ornate and decorative formal outfit.

Khatalina wore a mainly purple regalia made from the finest looking materials, lined with golden embroidery and embellished with precious metals and gems; a golden sash on her body acted as place holder for various medals. Highly tailored, the regalia fit her perfectly.

Meanwhile I was back on my comfortable simple-looking sleeved white robe and the contrast between our attire stuck up like a sore thumb. Not sure about protocols, I simply stood up as she entered the room.

I really need the help of an etiquette expert.

‘My Lady.’ The governor greeted, her eyes widened upon seeing me after all these days. She looked a bit pale and I sensed a mix of intense emotions bubbling beneath her controlled visage.

‘Governor, how are you doing?’ I asked.

‘By the Throne’s blessings I am doing great. Pardon me, what I am about to request is against standard protocol but may I have a private moment with you?’

Totally at a loss of what would be appropriate, I glanced over at Herlindya and she returned a “do as you see fit” look. Well at least Khatalina was not considered to be a threat to me by the inquisition.

‘Very well, please give us some space.’

Everyone else complied, soon it was only the two of us left inside the meeting room.

‘So, Khatalina?’

Instead of replying, to my surprise Khatalina knelt down before me before stating what was on her mind. ‘By His blessings and your holy work, my world, my home and the homes of countless Nusquamese were saved from the brink of damnation. No words can convey my gratitude and the gratitude of my people to the Throne and you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’ Khatalina said, her voice cracking with raw emotions.

Before I could say anything she continued, ‘and finally thank you for being alive and well, it worried me to death that you may never wake up from your injuries.’ Then she started crying.

While Khatalina looked like a fine lady in her prime, I knew she was well over seventy years old and could not push the mental image of a crying grandmother out of my mind.

This is … embarrassing.

On the other hand I was reminded of the fact my actions did save a whole world, a fact that I seemed to be trying to forget for some reasons. Then I sensed her thoughts on how she viewed me.

Saviour.

The governor was viewing me like she was a desperate damsel in distress, hanging from the edge of a failing skyscraper and looking at a superhero flying in. Being a ruler of a planet and all, I guessed it was very rare for her to come face to face with any peers, let alone a person who could potentially solve her problems.

I let her cry for a while before leaning down to hold her hands. On skin contact more of her emotions ran through me. I sensed her anxiety about the future, her shame on losing the control of her domain and the pain of losing family members. Was she ever close to Kaithan?

‘Khatalina, please rise.’

‘My Lady, before that, can I ask some questions?’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Why has the Emperor’s light ceased reaching us? What was that psychic beacon you lit and what will happen to my world?’ Khatalina asked, by now her tears were running like waters burst forth from a failed dam, I felt the shivering of her smooth hands. This was a person who stood at the apex of an imperial world, almost losing everything twice and now faced a future of uncertainties.

‘I can’t answer all your questions and have no plans to do any changes beyond the necessary.’ In truth I had no plans at all, but that was beside the point.

‘So what comes next for Nusquam?’ She asked again.

For a moment I considered telling her about my memory loss but decided against burdening her with more reasons to be anxious.

‘As for what comes next, I guess it depends on what we will find inside the vault.’

‘Vault?’

‘Well, I can’t tell you much but …’ After that we continued to talk and chatted away. Well it ended up with her talking most of the time while I avoided giving out any critical information. The topics changed from the state of the planet to seemingly random personal stuff. It felt like a mix between a friendly chat between friends and a therapeutic session for her.

Eventually we stopped and Khatalina freshened up her makeup and expressed her gratitude again before leaving. As soon as the governor left the room, Herlindya joined me again. She eyed me inquisitively and I shrugged. ‘Seemed like she needed someone to talk to. I told her about the vault, was that wise?’

‘Hmm… considering the governor will know about that sooner or later, it is fine. Please consult us beforehand on revealing important information to anyone in the future.’

It was then Herlindya’s comm bead beeped and she answered it, through my transhuman hearings I heard the conversation.

‘Herlindya.’ It was Tsalieh the psyker.

‘Yes?’

‘That new preacher from the Ecclesiarchy is here. I lightly probed her mind, no issues found.’ ‘Affirmative.’

Herlindya turned to me. ‘That preacher is here.’

‘Should I meet her?’ I asked.

‘It is up to you. If you do please remember to keep confidential information from her.’

I remembered Herlindya mentioning that rejecting Maylin here might result in the Ecclesiarchy replacing her with a random old man. Bad cardinal or not, even when Roboute Guilliman became the lord commander of the Imperium with all his legit powers and legions of space marines, he also had to entertain and keep the Church around. Guess I had little choice in this matter unless I prefer to swap the new lady priest with an old man.

‘Send her in.’ I nodded.

A while later Welminah led a young lady in preacher attire into the meeting room, she matched the profile I saw earlier. The newcomer’s face lit up the moment she saw me, I effortlessly picked up her thoughts that were broadcasting like an open air concert.

SO BEAUTIFUL!

Maylin’s mind screamed while she froze still, eyes locked onto me. Welminah waited for the young preacher to introduce herself, and when it was not forthcoming she lightly cleared her throat, snapping Maylin out of it.

‘Blessings of the Throne upon you, I am Maylin Hadmayer, designated representative of the Adeptus Ministorum.’ She said nervously, formed her aquila sign with her hands and bowed.

Did the Ecclesiarchy really just send a total noob over?

Chapter 47: V2 CH.10 PURIFICATION

Chapter Text

‘Amnesia from injury!?’

Maylin exclaimed her outrage, raw emotions of surprise and shock boiling over from her loud mind. Not even a few minutes into our first meeting and the new Adeptus Ministorum representative was already showing herself to be an unorthodox candidate.

‘By the Throne, is that true, sister?’ Breaking what I suspected to be standard etiquette, the young preacher stood up and directly eyed Welminah while demanding validation of my condition.

‘Yes, that much is true.’ The scholar replied reluctantly with her eyes downcast. I sensed Welminah’s mind leaking sentiments of guilt and shame for the Sororitas’ apparent shortcomings. In truth it was not their fault, the sisters were taking one for me to conceal my great secret, one that I could never share with anyone.

As for me, I was keeping my mouth shut. The less I talked the less holes there would be in our story. As far as the matter was concerned, Maylin as the representative of the Church was on a need to know basis and we did not even tell her my supposed memory loss was from a previous “injury”.

Maylin turned to me, her expression a mix of pity and mortification. Then she slowly walked towards me - which should be another breach of etiquette - before reaching out to grab onto my hands. Now this was definitely a breach of etiquette as I noticed Herlindya raising an eyebrow.

‘This will not stand! I will notify the Church and we will find the best treatment to rectify this!’ Maylin proclaimed, emotions of righteous protectiveness pouring out like an erupted volcano. In her eyes I had become a victim of tragic circ*mstances.

‘We have sought the best treatment available and there have been improvements to her condition.’ Welminah replied defensively.

‘But Lady Syrine still has not regained her memories, right? I want, nay, I demand a detailed report on how it all happened. If it was due to the negligence of the Adepta, I will petition to move the saint candidate into our care due to incompetence on your side!’ Maylin released my hands to point an accusatory finger at Welminah.

That statement hit a spot and the two of them soon got into a heated argument. I watched helplessly from the sidelines as the verbal warfare escalated, then Herlindya who was reading her data-slate leaned over and whispered, ‘the test candidates have arrived, Palatine Alicya is handling the transfer.’

Just in time! I looked at the quarrelling ladies and decided it was better to just get on with my plans for today. ‘Thank you. Let’s go.’ I said and stood up, surprising the spatting pair.

‘My lady, where are you going?’ Welminah asked.

‘To test if my theory could work to save some people. The test candidates we mentioned before have arrived.’ I answered.

On that fateful day, Trooper Ignatham’s worldview collapsed on the battlefield.

The trooper first saw the supposed invincibility of the mighty Northern Grand Army he belonged to getting totally humiliated, then after a day of twists and turns he witnessed Supreme Commander Lord General Luthor turned into a mist of blood and gore by a gargantuan creature from out of this world.

Ignatham was in the front row seats when it all went down. The trooper saw the nightmarish warp spawn up close, like a prehistoric man who suddenly encountered a legendary apex predator; it was an overwhelmingly shocking experience.

Being a trooper, Ignatham was conditioned for combat shock, but this time the threat he perceived had extended to his entire species and it proved too much. As a resident of a fringe civilised world far away from most of the galactic horrors, daemons were but vague concepts to him until that very moment.

The daemons are real.

Ignatham’s terrified mind was taken to the edge, all training failing him. While the gigantic daemon never showed him the slightest attention, for a microsecond Ignatham saw its eyes and it shook his soul. The sheer level of hatred and malice pouring forth from those glowing orbs convinced him they needed supernatural help.

Ignatham did not raise his trusted lasgun nor did he attempt to flee. What was the point? Throne preserves us, this foe is beyond us. His mind searched frantically for any possible solution, silly but plausible notions flashed before his mind, looking for a way out.

The God-Emperor was too far away on Holy Terra and confined to his golden throne, his angels of death were not around.

Hold on, if daemons are real, then those stories about saints must be real too. Maybe if they had an anointed saint blessed with His power … wait, was that singing lady a saint? But she was on the other side and might not extend a helping hand.

We are doomed. Ignatham’s jumbled mind concluded. He lost his mental strength, dropped to his knees and began laughing uncontrollably as the pandemonium of madness continued around him. That was where his conscious memory ended that day.

For a while now, the young trooper could not remember anything nor focus his mind. His name, his life, his aspirations and everything else about him felt like a barely perceivable whisper in the air.

Everything was hazy, in his alternated state of mind he found himself floating in space. At first numberless unblinking stars surrounded him, but soon they started disappearing, leaving an unsettling dark void. Surrounded by total darkness he came to the realisation he was not alone, there in the lightless depths a feeling of something truly colossal stirred.

The trooper’s terrified consciousness was sinking towards the darkness, deeper and deeper his mind dove until it was hanging at the very edge of the abyss. An eternal void was staring at him and he sensed a disturbing resonance coming from an unimaginable distance away. When he listened hard enough, it sounded a lot like cruel laughter.

Feeling trapped in the worst case of sleep paralysis, he wanted to scream, to wake up from this living nightmare. His consciousness hung helplessly at the edge of sanity while staring at the beckoning void. After holding on for an indeterminable amount of time, he felt the final reserves of his inner strength dissipating, his feeble mental fortitude unable to hold against the darkness forever.

Finally, his last ounce of strength left him, and he screamed in his mind as he was about to drop into the proverbial cosmic abyss. He felt the prospect of facing an eternity of damnation. A lifetime of conditioning kicked in and he instinctively cried out to the one and only entity in the galaxy who could offer salvation.

Throne! Emperor! Have mercy on my soul!

The void replied in silence as he cried in despair. Just as the young trooper was about to totally lose it, a bright light burst into existence. He watched in bewilderment as the surrounding darkness was chased away by a warm golden light.

‘Ignatham.’ Someone called from a distance.

Ignatham? That sounded so familiar… Wait, that’s my name, I am Ignatham. Suddenly the heavy mental fog was lifted and he remembered everything. Stunned and surrounded by the bright light, he sensed a presence nearby and turned to it.

Ignatham could not believe his eyes as a girl emerged from the brilliance. She wore a robe of the purest white, her face obscured by a blinding halo of divine radiance.

‘Ignatham?’

The girl called his name again, her soft and gentle voice seemed to echo to eternity in this strange space. Ignatham struggled to pick out facial features as her impression shifted every time he focused on it. For a fleeting moment he caught glimpses of his long deceased mother, but she looked so young and beautiful here.

Ignatham felt no fear, a feeling from the bottom of his heart informed him the shining figure meant no harm. So this is the afterlife? Ignatham was sure of it, he started crying and reached out with his hand.

It was working.

I felt a deep sense of relief as what seemed to be warp taint residue was burnt away from the patient by my halo’s intensity in close proximity. While I was still totally clueless on how any of this worked there was no arguing with the result.

The patient, a young trooper from the rebel faction, was seated across me with our faces less than two feet apart. My halo was on full blast, the psychic energy holding a hint of the Emperor’s unique version of divinity driving away the corruption.

Welminah, Herlindya, Maylin, Tsalieh, Alicya and a small squad of sisters were watching attentively nearby. Earlier when Maylin saw my halo in person for the first time she lost her composure and was moved to tears. This… this light is so divine! Her mind screamed while the Sororitas only emitted deep silent reverence.

Why is her mind so loud? I wondered for a second before deciding to focus on finishing the task at hand.

‘Ignatham.’ I called his name.

The trooper started moaning softly like a person waking from a deep sleep. His once totally off focus eyes started training on me, a hint of comprehension showed on his face as tears started flowing down his cheek. He was coming around.

‘Ignatham?’ I called again.

Instead of answering me, he feebly raised his right hand.

‘Trooper Ignatham.’

Still no reply, but someone had definitely come back home in that previously listless body. His hand slowly started to reach out as if trying to caress my face. From my perspective his speed might as well be a bean sprouting so I ignored it.

The majority of my attention was spent closely observing the retreating darkness in his body. My theory and method needed to be confirmed, thousands of lives were riding on this. I looked closer, engrossed in the incredible sight of the miniscule warp residue inside him dissolving like dew meeting the afternoon sun.

The sound of a solid strike rang out in the room as Ignatham’s face was hammered by the back end of a bolter, the trooper was still falling back from his chair when two battle sisters rushed over to him. In the next second Alicya had stepped in front of me while the poor trooper was about to be pummelled further.

That was close. It was partly my fault, I did not realise how serious the Sororitas were about my protection. They must have taken the trooper’s attempt to touch me as a form of assault.

‘Sisters, please stand down. Thank you. Alicya, it is fine.’ I gently pushed away the palatine who was blocking my path and walked over to the downed trooper. He was in shock, holding up his hands to block further blows while breathing heavily from a bruised face. If it was not for me subtly pushing him at the last second to avoid maximum impact he would have suffered at least a few broken teeth on top of that.

I turned my halo off and squatted down for a better look at the trooper. He was glancing around nervously, looking confused. Imagine waking up from the worst hangover ever to a bunch of angry battle sisters gunbutting you . A part of me wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of his situation but I kept my straight face and asked, ‘have you awakened, trooper?’

He nodded quickly.

‘Kindly introduce yourself.’ I asked for confirmation.

He hesitated for a second before starting to talk, his voice weak and dry with insufficient hydration. ‘Trooper first class Ignatham Harrin of Squad Gerhartte, Second Platoon, First Battalion of the Northern Great Army, reporting for duty. Ma’am!’ He said with a forced gusto before forming the Aquila sign while on the ground.

‘He seems fine now, please check on him.’ I said.

‘Well, we happen to have an expert here.’ Herlindya said before turning to Maylin. ‘Preacher, you were involved in the faith validation process, correct? Could you do a preliminary check on this trooper?’

Maylin, who was still in a kind of trance upon witnessing what happened, snapped to attention after being addressed by an agent of the Inquisition. ‘Right, pass me his information and I can do that.’

As Maylin started working, I went on a discussion with the others.

‘So how was that?’ I asked.

‘Splendidly done my lady, it would not have worked without your level of powers.’ Tsalieh commented.

‘It this sustainable? Are you feeling drained?’ Herlindya asked.

‘I think I can do it all day.’ I said after testing my reserves.

‘That is frankly absurd.’ Tsalieh remarked pensively, making me wonder about my own psyker level.

‘If we are going to continue, I would suggest tying up the rest to prevent them from attempting anything.’ Alicya chipped in, looking fiercely protective.

A while later Maylin reported that aside from feeling confused about his situation, everything seemed fine with the first test candidate. We went ahead with the rest and tied them up beforehand as Alicya suggested.

With our faces about one feet apart, my halo was practically engulfing him as I observed his condition. The last bit of warp residue retreated further but still did not dissolve, and just when I decided to move even closer to finish the job, the trooper suddenly lashed out with a blood-curdling scream and came biting at me with extraordinary speed.

Time slowed down just enough for me to get a proper look at everything, including the young man’s eyes. In the windows to his soul I saw an abyss, nothing but madness glinted in his iris.

Startled and propelled by self preservation, I reacted by jerking back while delivering a hand chop with maximum force at his throat. While the man seemed deadly fast in his altered state, I proved to be faster and my attack connected first despite striking out later.

In slow motion I saw my hand sink into his neck and cut right through, pushing through layers of elastic skin, flesh, nerves, arteries and bones. I experienced each layer’s distinct texture and density as my hand crushed into them until a jumbled up organic mess formed and stopped me from decapitating him outright.

The brutal momentum flung the crazed trooper like a rag doll to the side, splattering the room with a shower of crimson blood before he dropped to the floor in a literal bloody mess.

In the next moment Alicya was shielding in front of me again, shouting orders while another sister dragged me back, away to supposed safety. While I could have easily freed myself from the feeble human restraint, mentally I was in a shock and just went with the flow. Already two more sisters had stepped forward, their bolters trained at the fallen man.

But the trooper remained motionless, the only movement was the spreading of his blood on the floor and the dripping of the same blood from my hand. Alerted by the commotion, Maylin who was working next door appeared, her expression turned to horror upon witnessing the gruesome scene.

For some reason the only thing on my mind was my first encounter with the grimdark universe as a classic computer game I picked up. On the back of its box was a quote printed in a large and thick font stating: THOU SHALT KILL.

While my mind became a numbing mess, the expected adrenaline rush from such an event did not occur. Instead the sense of utter calmness I felt, as if I just swatted an annoying insect, shocked me.

The dripping of warm blood from my hand eventually refocused my jittering attention. I held up my hand for a closer look, found it covered in blood but otherwise unscathed despite cutting through a man’s neck.

‘I am sorry for the mess. Please excuse me while I go clean up.’ Not waiting for a response, I departed and headed towards the nearest washroom that was registered in my memory.

Luckily for me, hand sanitising liquid was still a common enough feature in the grim darkness of the far future. Alone in a water closet, I stood and watched like a zombie as the last traces of blood on my hand was washed away by running tap water.

I just killed someone with my hand .

Yes, I killed people before. In the final battle of the civil war, some of my actions had directly led to the demise of rebel personnels. But those kills had been done remotely, using machines from far far away. This was my first melee kill, up close and personal.

Thanks to my primarch-level memory retention, I could still clearly recall how my dainty hand went through the man’s muscular neck as if human flesh had the consistency of tofu while neck bones were little more than brittle, hollowed out twigs. For some reason I also could not help but notice that despite the massive spillage of blood, not a single drop of the sanguine liquid managed to cling onto my robe. Just what sort of cloth is this?

I ran [Analytica] on my own robe. The reading came back, Material: Superior eternal silk. Totally no idea what material was that.

After washing my hand for the third time, I rinsed it dry and muttered a silent curse as the faint smell of blood still lingered. Then I realised that probably only transhumans could detect such low levels of the scent, it was like that time when I … no, not me , Syrine escaped from beneath the imperial palace.

What did she do back then to get rid of scent trails when cornered by the custodes? I raised my hand for a closer inspection while recalling the memory, then almost reflexively my psychic energies flexed for the briefest moment and a miniscule amount of power was discharged onto my hand. In the next moment invisible warp fire fluttered and burned through the surface of my hand, ionising everything on top of the skin and obliterating any last hint of the blood. I was stunned by the immediate result, it seemed I just discovered another weird application of my powers.

As I left the water closet and opened the door to the outside, two battle sisters guarding nearby snapped to attention. It took a moment for me to comprehend that even just for going to the sink to wash my hands I had elite bodyguards armed with bolters looking over me.

When I returned to the room, it was filled with people doing some sort of crime scene investigation. Everyone turned to me as I stepped in and the atmosphere felt extremely tense. Some of the people’s surface thoughts even came through to me.

Throne, this is bad. One of them was thinking.

Heads might roll for this. Another person echoed mentally.

That made me nervous. Technically I just committed murder in front of everyone despite the fact that the man attacked first.

As I pondered on the situation, Alicya approached me with a grave face. That felt extra strange as she seldom displayed such an expression towards me. That alone and the grim resolve I felt emanating from her made me even more nervous. Wait, really? Am I in trouble for this?

Just as I was contemplating what to say, to my surprise Alicya knelt down in front and started apologising. ‘Holy Daughter, we are extremely sorry for our inefficient vetting process that let a heretic get so close and attack you. I will be personally taking responsibility for this transgression.’ The palatine said softly, and despite her neutral tone I could feel the intense emotions of regret and shame she was keeping a tight leash on.

Heretic? The sight of Alicya, a well-mannered, pretty and extremely capable girl deep in remorse kneeling in front of me broke my male-centric heart. I reached down, held onto her shoulders and said, ‘don’t say that. Show me what you have discovered.’

She obliged and walked me to the mess I had created, the small crowd parting before us. There, in a pool of dried blood, was the almost decapitated corpse, his head turned to the side on the floor, eyes lifeless and mouth opened wide by a squating sister hospitaller next to him.

At first I was not sure what was being shown to me but then my spine chilled upon seeing what Alicya had meant. Inside the right cheek of the dead man was a sizable scar of sorts that formed the shape of eight arrows in a radial pattern.

It was the mark of Chaos, symbol of the Great Enemy.

This was the first time I saw this symbol in this universe and it occurred in such a gruesome manner. Back in my world the symbol of chaos served little more than a mark of rebellion or the dedication to a fandom. Here, it looked like it had a life of its own, with real tangible powers.

It took a moment before I deduced stopping our work here was akin to conceding to the enemy. I turned to the throne agent, ‘Herlindya, how many more candidates to go?’

‘Seven.’

Continuing on character portraits series.

Digital Portrait: Palatine Alicya Sabatith

Chapter 48: V2 CH.11 INTERROGATION

Chapter Text

So the Chaos cult had infiltrated the local military.

Energised by the incident, we proceeded with the rest of the test candidates quickly with more stringent measures, like tying them down to heavy chairs during the procedures and checking their inner cheeks.

Nothing extraordinary happened with the rest of them, and by the time we were done I was informed by Herlindya that Thaberus had arrived and wished to meet me at the crime scene. Through some persuasion I managed to drop all the girls to meet the inquisitor alone.

Niandra was guarding the sealed off room when I arrived. I nodded while passing and she bowed. Like her boss I noted the assassin’s surface thoughts were totally unreadable.

Inside the room the inquisitor was studying the remains of my victim while squatting down, looking every bit like an overworked homicide detective.

‘Syrine.’ He nodded.

‘Inquisitor.’

‘I see you made a mess of this heretic.’

‘Sorry, I reacted with too much force. Should have kept him alive for information gathering.’

‘I believe we aren’t missing much.’ He shook his head. ‘Remember the gunmen at the gate? As expected, nothing much came up during their interrogation. The insidious cult we are dealing with are too careful for such amateurish mistakes.’

A professionally operated Chaos cult? My own impression of such cults was that they were usually just loud and semi unorganised, but this insidious version seemed a lot more dangerous.

‘I have ordered all of the detained rebel troops to be double checked for this. The cult’s infiltration was way worse than anticipated,’ Thaberus said while standing up before dropping a surprising praise. ‘Your rapid pace of work is truly commendable.’

‘You didn’t come all the way just to compliment me, right?’ I asked jokingly. He returned a side stare and scoffed. ‘Of course not. My interest in the result of your work aside, there is a person I would like you to meet.’

‘Who?’

‘You have seen him before, he has been a guest here since the day we met.’ He said cryptically. It took a moment before I realised who he was referring to.

‘You meant the space marine?’

‘Correct.’

Accompanied by Niandra, I followed Thaberus’ lead and we headed downstairs. So the Sororitas monastery had fortified underground levels where they housed their dungeons. I lamented my decision of not exploring the place yesterday night with my projection. Back then, after learning to project for the first time, my instinct was to fly towards the shining city on the horizon instead of checking out what was literally beneath me.

The deeper we went, the grimmer the atmosphere became. Most of the walls were carved out from solid, obsidian rock, and the passages were barely lit by flickering torches and some eerily glowing illumination technology. The air was thick with the scent of decay and despair, and the only sounds were the echoes of our footsteps.

Eventually we reached a heavy gate leading to the actual dungeon. You could tell they were not fooling around as it was guarded by sisters armed with storm bolters. These ridiculous things were double-barrelled version of the standard bolter, usually found mounted on top of Rhino armoured transports, or wielded by elite Astartes terminators.

As we entered the final door to a reinforced prison chamber I smelled the Astartes way before he came into view. I remembered reading in a novel about some humans complaining about the body odour of space marines in real life. That was sort of expected, as gigantic genetically altered muscular humans, they were already more beast than baseline human in terms of body mass, and that was before considering their usual routine of wearing fully sealed power armour for extended periods of time.

But all things considered the stink was not too bad. I could tell the scent was similar to that of normal humans, just a lot more intense and complex. My mind was filled with such triviality when the massive figure we came to visit came into view, he was imprisoned in the last cell of the chamber.

The marine was not alone. Two figures who I recognised, Sister Hospitaller Veritta and Magos Balpradus, stood beside the subdued transhuman. Both bowed as we entered.

As for the marine, he was stripped of his armour and missing all his limbs like I remembered. Secured with heavy chains, he was pinned onto the wall in a crucified pose. A myriad of tubes of unknown functions were inserted into his body in various places, his eyes were closed and a half mask was placed over his mouth, probably to prevent more acid spitting attacks.

The marine was in a bad shape. Illuminated by the harsh artificial lights inside the cell, countless scars could be seen running like angry centipedes on his hyper muscular body.

‘Inquisitor. We inspected the prisoner as requested, everything was within expected parameters.’ Balpradus reported.

‘Thank you, magos.’ Thaberus said.

‘Is he… sleeping?’ I asked, curious.

‘The prisoner is in a self-induced deep meditative state, one of the standard Astartes approaches to conserve energy while being imprisoned. It can also be used to ignore standard physical torture during interrogations.’ Balpradus explained.

The magos’ words made me do a double take on the marines’ condition. Now that I got a closer look, it became clear some of the wounds on him were quite fresh and I winced internally at the implication of recent tortures.

Eager to get this over with, I turned to Thaberus. ‘What do you need me to do?’

‘I was hoping with your powers you could double check if he was compromised by Chaos corruption. We need to know how big a threat he and his kin are to this world.’ The inquisitor said softly, but his explanation only raised many more questions.

‘May I ask why are you asking me to do it? Shouldn’t this be better handled by seasoned professionals like your psykers?’ I asked bluntly.

‘We have already tried it.’

‘And…?’ That got me more curious.

‘The results were inconclusive. While my psykers being overworked might have been a contributing factor, we suspect this individual was trained to resist psychic interrogation. That could only be achieved if they have psyker in their rank.’ Thaberus remarked grimly.

A rogue librarian or a sorcerer? That sounded troubling indeed.

‘All right, what do I need to do?’ I conceded.

‘Try reading his mind for their objectives here and check for any signs of Chaos corruption.’ Thaberus instructed.

Huh? I never told anyone about my ability to read minds yet.

‘Who said I could read minds?’ I asked, testing the water.

He shrugged, ‘I thought it should be natural for a psyker of your calibre. Do what you can to gather any information.’
Is this another test?

I could do nothing but to proceed with his request. Standing this close to a real Astartes, the human side of me experienced for the first time the full impact of what it meant to come face to face with an absolute physical superior of your species.

Being this close, the marine looked much bigger and imposing from my point of view. Even while seemingly totally incapacitated, I felt the raw power residing in his overexaggerated chiselled form, and it filled me with a deep sense of uneasiness. It was akin to being in close proximity with a huge predator. The human part of my mind went hyperactive and kept nagging me about the present danger.

But… I am the bigger threat here, right?

I quieted down my mind and considered what I had learned so far. My interaction with Khathalina seemed to imply that skin contact amplified my mind reading ability. I decided on my approach, raised my hand up to reach for the marine’s gigantic bald head before realising I had severely underestimated the difference of our stature.

Slightly flustered, I pointed to a readily available tool to remedy the situation. ‘Pass me the chair, please.’ No one commented about my vertically challenged status and Veritta moved to help.

Soon I was standing on top of a chair, and my hand finally reached the Astartes’ smooth cranium and touched the skin of his forehead. It felt surprisingly smooth but cold.

I willed myself to read his surface thoughts but sensed resistance. Not only was I unable to read the marine’s mind, his mental wall was actively repelling my attempts. Going nowhere, I closed my eyes and upped my game.

[Psykana Activa] activated-

Instinctively I synced my breathing with the marine while my powers engulfed him. At first the resistance of his mind held, but as I started pumping more and more power it began to wane.

Come on, let me see your mind. Come on, come on, come on…

[Simulatio] activated- Huh?

Suddenly I entered an altered state and found myself in a void. Immediately I came to an innate understanding; my mind was syncing with the marine and this vision was a placeholder for us to meet.

At first there was nothing, then slowly I heard some voices and saw a figure illuminated by dim lights in the distance. As I moved towards the light, the surroundings changed and morphed into a grassy field with a starry night sky.

I moved closer to the figure and sure enough it was the marine. Here he was whole again with all his limbs intact. For some reason, in this vision he wore a set of scout armour instead of power armour. Seated on the ground in a meditative posture, he was chanting away while a small campfire, the source of illumination I saw earlier, flickered in front of him.

‘Hello.’ I greeted the marine but he just continued his chanting, which turned up to be some space marine mantra.

‘In the furnace of war we are forged,
We are HIS finest warriors,
We give ourselves to HIS will,
We are HIS bulwark against the Terror,
We are the tip of HIS spear, the edge of HIS sword,
We are defenders of humanity and we shall know no fear…’

On and on he murmured with practised ease. I looked at his solemn expression and listened to his words for a while before coming to a conclusion. The only way he could be a traitor was that he was an Alpha Legion operative, an unlikely scenario.

‘Greetings, space marine.’ I said, but he just continued to ignore me while chanting.

I thought for a moment on what could break the ice and said. ‘I would like to talk to you about your brothers on the Shadow Talon.’ It was the name of the Thunderhawk gunship I glimpsed with my very brief interaction with its machine spirit. After hearing the gunship’s name, he finally stopped chanting and slowly opened his eyes.

Just when I thought we could start a conversation, he just checked on his hands and refused to look at me. While I had no idea on how any of this worked, in the real world he no longer had his hands so I just let him have his moment.

After a while he finally spoke. ‘Witch. This vision is your doing?’ The marine asked with an accusatory tone, he had a deep and powerful voice yet there was a hint of unmistakable youthfulness.

Not keen on being labelled by that term, I replied with a question. ‘I am a psyker, not a witch. Would you call the Emperor a witch?’ His massive body twitched almost unperceivably after hearing my words, but he remained silent after that.

Seeing the window to talk was rapidly closing again, I tried to stir up conversation. ‘For real, I have no idea why you are made whole here. You might be just… missing your limbs.’ I stated the truth, being quite a bad liar all my life, I had decided to be truthful whenever possible as a standard policy.

The marine seemed surprised by my answer and finally looked at me. While we exchanged stares, I finally had a good look at his face.

Is he … still a kid?

Superficial Astartes features aside, his face, his posture, his eyes, everything about him made me feel like I was dealing with a youngster who was barely twenty years old.

‘Now that I have answered your question, it is only fair that you answer one of mine.’ I said, wanting to make him talk before he walled up again, ‘tell me, why did your brothers on the Shadow Talon spare my life when they had the chance to eliminate me?’

He looked at me in disbelief and I pressed my advantage. ‘They had their chance with the Turbolaser destructor. I was fighting a greater daemon, your brothers shot the daemon, not me.’ His eyes widened further but still his lips were sealed.

I waited for an answer that never came and even sensed he was withdrawing again. Seemed like expecting straight answers just like that was asking too much, I needed to take a step back.

‘Alright, if you do not wish to talk about your brothers, what about just telling me where this place is?’ I asked, looking at the eerily quiet alien landscape around me with its unfamiliar vegetation. Three small moons were in the night sky and the star constellations were totally different from Earth’s.

‘This is my home world.’ Surprisingly, he talked.

‘It is really different from mine.’ I remarked.

‘Show me yours?’ He asked.

Since this vision was created by my power, it should be within my ability to change it. I started envisioning a beautiful summer night on old Earth, my primarch level of cognitive ability constructed the overall setting before rendering the finer details in my head. Satisfied with the vision, I then willed what was in my mind into existence and our surroundings suddenly changed.

This is so cool, like playing as a virtual director in real life.

The three small moons were no more, replaced by a single large moon on the night sky while the star constellations became familiar. A nice breeze brushed against my face, making my hair flow while carrying the sound of crickets chirping in the distance. Instead of the previous quietness, the air became filled with the gentle hum of nature, and then a sea of fireflies appeared.

I sat down on the soft patch of grass across the marine and watched in amazement as the fireflies began their mesmerising dance. Their tiny lights flickered in the darkness, creating soft glows that illuminated the surrounding foliage as they moved gracefully around each other, forming intricate patterns and shapes in the night sky.

I gazed up at the constellations above and was struck by their sheer beauty. For reasons unknown I recognised the constellations from old Earth even though I was never a star gazer. The Orion constellation was definitely the most recognizable, that other one was Canis Major with Sirius, the brightest star in the sky; then there was the Ursa Major, often used as a navigational tool before the global positioning system became common.

Were they in my memory from the countless documentaries I watched or…? Regardless, I had never seen stars this clearly before. Primarch grade senses together with psychic sorcery had brought the constellations to life in this vision, and they twinkled and shone like diamonds in the sky.

I sat quietly in the idyllic setting and was reminded that back on my Earth the light pollution had made it almost impossible to pick out the stars from the night sky. Then there was my severe case of myopia; many decades of excessive gaming and questionable lifestyle had deteriorated my eyesight significantly in my old self. Such a sight was out of the question in my old life.

Surrounded by the magical scenery, warm glow of the fireflies with the soft chirping of the crickets as soothing ambience, I lost myself in the simulated tranquillity.

‘Well, you are certainly enjoying yourself.’ The marine brought my focus back to him, a hint of frustration in his deep voice.

I looked at him and smiled. ‘It is not as if you are talking much. This looks amazing, no?’

He looked around and finally nodded. ‘Where is this?’

I thought of the current state of humanity’s cradle where the oceans were long gone and sighed in response. ‘The place looks a lot different now, this scene exists only in memory.’

‘Is that so?’ He replied flatly. We stayed silent for a while, just enjoying the relaxing atmosphere with the soft crackling of his campfire. Looking into the fire I noticed an unusual item. ‘What is that?’ I asked, pointing at the thing in the flames. To me it seemed to be a personalised inquisition rosette, a stylised “I” held by dragon claws.

When the marine saw the rosette his previously impassive face flashed with anger and disgust for a microsecond before he closed his eyes, refusing to interact further.

‘Hello?’ I asked but he remained silent like a statue. I considered my options and realised in this false world my powers had fully engulfed him. A brute force approach to accessing his memories was possible, leaving him at my mercy.

‘I don’t want to do this, cooperate or you will leave me with no choice.’ I warned him, hoping he would play nice but received silence. Reluctantly I powered up and began pushing into his mind, he resisted. While his willpower was as strong as steel, as I gradually increased my output it became clear he would not last forever.

Soon he was sweating profusely under intense pressure, I could tell it was only a matter of time before his mind or something else would break. As the marine suffered in silence, I noticed the campfire that had been burning brightly only moments before had dimmed considerably. I looked at the strange fire and felt its connection with the marine.

This fire is a representation of his life force?

Curious to see what would happen, I reduced my output and observed the campfire brightening up as if it was responding to the release of pressure. To further test my theory, I eased up further and was validated in the next moment as it flared up immediately. Looking at the intensity of the fire, I came to a grim conclusion.

He would have died if I had pressed on.

I looked at the marine again. He carried no signs of corruption and was ready to die for his brothers. He never relented and I did not want to kill him. We had reached an impasse.

I released my power over him and immediately found myself back in the cell again, my hand still on the marine’s head. Unlike before, the marine’s forehead was warm like he was having a fever, and he was sweating heavily just like in the vision.

Feeling disorientated, I looked around and found Veritta behind me, ready to catch me in case I fell off the chair.

‘How long did I close my eyes?’

‘About half a minute.’ Thaberus replied.

‘Twenty eight point three seconds to be exact.’ Balpradus remarked.

What the hell, time dilation? I had read about scenarios like this in the novels, characters experiencing lengthy otherworldly visions only to return to their reality where not much actual time had passed.

‘How was it?’ Thaberus asked.

‘I … could push through his mental barrier, but he might die.’

‘Let’s talk outside.’
We left the cell, went to a secured room next door and sat down to talk. A while later I finished my story, ‘...I found no trace of Chaos corruption on him. Lastly he seems to have a distinct distaste for the inquisition.’

‘Please elaborate.’

‘Before that, could you tell me what you know about this marine and his chapter?’
Thaberus took a long look at me before offering his opinion, ‘no offence, but I think it is unwise to involve you in such matters at this moment.’

Unconvinced, I was about to argue with the inquisitor before realising my own shortcomings. Despite having some amazing abilities and the baseline of a demigoddess, I was still hopelessly dependent on the people around me to navigate this world.

I had no access to money, no concept of the norms of daily life inside the Imperium nor do I possess any basic life skills like operating mundane vehicles in this world. Heck, I did not even understand the basics of my body and could not even properly control my own physical strength.

Wait… am I currently close to being a “useless goddess” level of meme existence like Aqua the Water Goddess in Konosuba? Mentally pummelled by a series of sudden critical self reflections, I was just looking down at the ground and lost in my thoughts when Thaberus broke my stupor.

‘Psychic exertion catching up? I think that is enough power usage for you today. I have a few places to visit and will be going soon. Please give a more detailed report on the interrogation session to Herlindya.’ He said with a hint of concern.

I thought for a moment before asking, ‘are you going anywhere dangerous today?’ ‘Why?’ Thaberus looked up with a glint in his eyes, no doubt second guessing my motive.

Pointing to the wall where my senses easily detected the presence of Niandra, I smiled and replied, ‘if it is possible, I would like to borrow her for half a day.’

‘Again, why?’

After listening to my reasons, Thaberus consented to my request but only agreed to lend me the imperial assassin for a few hours. He made the arrangements and soon left, leaving me alone to deal with his most deadly operative.

Looking lethal as ever, Niandra approached me with the grace of a prowling predator, she knelt down respectfully and said, ‘Lady Syrine, you need my service?’

‘Niandra, I heard from the others that it was you who carried me to the Blackstar from that muddy field. For that you have my thanks. As for now, I have a request.’

Being the only transhuman I could talk to, you could say she might be the most relatable person I had in this world at this moment. Niandra looked up from her kneeling position, her expression telling me to go on.

‘Teach me how to access my transhuman strength and on top of that, some basic fighting skills.’ I said. Upon hearing my request, a subtle expression of hesitation flashed on her ice cold pretty face but she didn’t reply immediately, so I pressed on. ‘You are free to withhold any technique you do not wish to share. I just need the basics.’

‘As you command.’ She relented.

‘There is also this thing I need to ask you. My apologies to you in advance, it is quite an intimate question.’ I bent down, putting a hand up to whisper my question. Niandra looked confused for a second before she leaned over. I had many questions to ask, but decided to go with the very fundamental issues first.

‘How many times do you need to go to the washroom a day?’

Chapter 49: V2 CH.12 TRAINING

Chapter Text

The seemingly simple subject I asked ended up being an in depth topic of its own right.

Between genetically engineered organs with a more efficient digestive and waste management system, there were many factors that could muddle the frequency of a transhuman’s need to visit the bathroom.

From Niandra’s limited knowledge on the subject matter, a few standard Terran days of not needing to visit the loo was normal for most transhumans. On the extreme end of example, the Vindicare assassins of the Officio Assassinorum, the ultra elite snipers who trained their art of marksmanship to near-perfection, were known to stay still for many days in a single position just to get a chance to eliminate their quarry with a single gunshot.

Another issue to consider were the extra layers of cybernetic enhancements and built in waste management plus recycling systems in advanced suits. For example the Astartes’ power armour had built in systems that could sustain a marine’s metabolism without needing to stop to eat or drink while taking care of waste management. No one had ever heard of a space marine looking for a washroom in the middle of a warzone, and they were known to be confined in their power armour for months in brutal void warfare where taking one’s suit off for a leak was out of the question.

Then there was my case where my physiology was practically state secret. ‘I really have no idea.’ Niandra said while shaking her head, her long ponytail swinging from side to side.

‘The level of engineered organs aside, I have heard of rumours about psykers who can alter bodily functions with the deeper mastery of their powers. When it comes to you, both aspects are of unknown quantifiers.’ She looked dead serious when delivering her conclusion.

We returned to the upper floor just as our conversation wrapped up and was received by Herlindya and the rest.

‘Preacher Maylin has gone through all the remaining test candidates and the initial results are promising.’ Herlindya reported. While that was certainly good news, the sample size was too small and the progress too slow for what we needed.

‘Very well. Kindly arrange a fresh batch for tomorrow, add some variety and increase the number of candidates by half. Please look into methods that can increase the efficiency of the whole process.’ I said.

‘My lady, you are doing this again tomorrow? We have to show it to the world!’ Maylin exclaimed, hardly able to contain her excitement. ‘I am sure the archdeacon and the rest of the senior clergy would be honoured to witness you performing the Emperor’s miracle, may I invite them over?’

Bringing the high hat fella and his gang to watch me work?

I had mixed feelings about Maylin’s suggestion, the notion of turning my work into religious propaganda just did not sit right with me. But as an outsider I had to concede due to my limited knowledge of the local politics, the pros and cons of such an action was beyond me.

It was time to consult the professionals.

I looked at Herlindya with puppy eyes, she quickly got the hint and dropped the conditions for Maylin’s request. ‘Esteemed members of Adeptus Ministorum are welcome to witness Lady Syrine performing her work, but due to special circ*mstances every visitor had to be vetted by the Inquisition beforehand and no recordings will be allowed.’

Against my expectation, Maylin did not protest about the imposed conditions, instead she quickly sorted out the details with Herlindya and promptly excused herself to inform the Church. I had Niandra talk to Alicya on the arrangements needed for our little training session later and before I knew it, lunch time had arrived.

Non-militant members of Adepta Sororitas usually eat two meals a day, lunch around noon and dinner in the evening. Not feeling hungry at all, I declined the offer of lunch and ended up killing time at the library inside the monastery with Welminah by my side while waiting for Niandra to get ready.

Like almost everything in the Imperium, the monastery library was huge, imposing and a sight to behold. Made up of two floors, the library was housed in a grand ornate chamber complete with high ceilings, wall murals, intricate carvings and stained-glass windows that cast a natural glow on the many shelves of manuscripts and heavy tomes.

The air inside was cool and thick with the scent of aged parchment and leather bindings, sounds of rustling pages mixed with cogitator stations’ muted beeps and whispered conversations created a serene, scholarly atmosphere. Well, it would have been perfectly serene if not for the presence of many cherubs.

God damned creepy cherubs.

These things were … basically undead and genderless babies with decorative feathery wings. Their primary means of movement was by floating around with their built in anti-grav generators, the same principle utilised by servo-skulls.

Despite knowing the existence of these bio-sculpted homunculi beforehand, I had severely underestimated their grotesqueness in real life. With my typical civilian worldview from the twenty-first century, coming face to face with these constructs proved to be deeply disturbing, like witnessing a Halloween joke that went too far. Whoever thought of having these things hovering around in a place of study was a good idea really possessed a skewed sense of morbid aesthetics.

It took me a while to get used to and ignore the many creepy cybernetic undead infants that were randomly floating about. A glance of the shelves informed me most of the books here were about topics of religious, historical and cultural significance. In essence, none of them looked interesting to me. But since I was already here, I might as well make my time productive.

I reached out, retrieved a tome titled “Chronicles of Nusquam” and started flipping. To my surprise, I was able to thoroughly read and comprehend the contents just by casually glancing at the pages while turning them. Amazed, I continued to flip through the pages thinking this incredible instant information absorption would stop at some point, but I was sorely mistaken.

It just went on and on, page after page of text was fully read and comprehended at a supernatural speed until I freaked out and slammed the thick book shut. My sudden action made Welminah, who had been following me around like a lost puppy, look over with curiosity in her eyes. Did I read half the book just like that?

Time to put that strange notion to the test, I passed the tome to her. ‘Help me test something. Try reading any line in this book before page hundred and fifty.’

Welminah obliged, she opened the book to a random page and started reading. ‘The discovery of Nusquam as an exo-planet with Holy Terra’s almost exact specifications is nothing short of a miraculous occurrence…’

‘That is on page ten, first paragraph. Am I correct?’

‘Let me see… you are correct!’

‘Try another page.’

‘Please hold on. Alright, here we go. May we always remember the miracle of this discovery that founded our home and marvel at the… ’

I held up a hand stopping her before continuing where she let off on the page, ‘... the divine plan laid down by the God-Emperor that guides us all. Praise be to the Master of Mankind. Page eighty three, fifth paragraph.’

‘Correct again. Wait, did you memorise all that just by flipping through it?’ Welminah asked, astonished.

A primarch’s base line abilities are IMBA as hell.

‘Something on your mind?’ I asked, sounding my best to be casual.

‘Well, Maylin had passed some questionnaires to me and wished that you could answer them as soon as possible, for her to report to the Church.’ Welminah answered timidly while taking out her data-slate. Speaking of Maylin, I believed she just entered the library, her recognisable footstep was approaching fast from the other end.

‘Alright. I think Maylin is here. Let’s answer them when she arrives.’ I said.

At that moment a floating cherub got too close for my comfort. Annoyed, in my mind I asked the cyborg baby to bugger off. Shockingly, the cherub turned its head and looked at me before sending me a binaric prompt.

<++Administrative level directive received, please clarify the distance or destination for this unit to relocate.++>

Surprised, I simply pointed to the far end of the library, ‘just … move along.’ Instead of floating away immediately, the cherub landed onto the floor before giving me a deep bow.

<++Acknowledged, administrator.++>

After completing its flamboyant gesture, it started running towards the spot I pointed with the grace of a three year old and ran past Maylin like a playful child, giggling creepily all the way. So just like that I discovered the cherubs here, like most servo-skulls, responded to my thought commands unquestioningly.

Both the scholar and the preacher had their eyes glued onto the running homunculus, then Maylin turned to me with a puzzled face and a question. ‘Lady Syrine, how did you get a cherub to obey you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I had visited this library multiple times, they never obey anyone except for the librarians and the tech-priests.’

Oops.

As I was wondering how to talk my way out of this, Welminah stepped in and explained with a straight face. ‘As the Holy Daughter, Lady Syrine’s divinity is recognised even by the cherubs residing here.’

‘Is that so?’ Maylin gasped, ‘can you kindly demonstrate again? I need to verify such claims to the Church.’

‘That should not be a problem. Am I correct, my lady?’ Welminah smiled and gave me a quick wink. I could even read what was on her mind, this is nothing compared to Baneblade tanks .

As one of the inner circle people in the know, Welminah was present all the way from the planning through the execution of the final civil war battle and witnessed it all. Since this was my screw up, I might as well put up a small show to complete the white lie.

‘Very well.’ I said and mentally ordered another nearby cherub to come over while doing a beckoning gesture to complete the act. The cherub I targeted immediately dropped its routine, hovered over and landed in front of me.

‘Do a proper greeting.’ I commanded.

It complied, to the delight of both girls and some random sisters peeking from the corners of the library, the cherub formed the Aquila hand sign to the best of its ability and bowed.

‘Have a seat.’ I ordered again and it did as commanded, dropping its tiny back on the floor while looking at us with its unnerving eyes.

Activating thought acceleration, I first analysed the rough movements of the dancing baby in the video inside my mind. That done, I imprinted the movement sequence to the cherub via my connection to it and let its internal system sort out the details.

<Movement sequence achievable?> I prompted it.

<++Affirmative.++> It replied.

‘Alright little fella, what is the best dance routine you’ve hidden from the world? Show them what you got.’ I said to the cherub, which was a purely theatrical display for my audience, then dropped my mental command.

<Execute movement sequence .>

<++Complying.++> The cherub stood up and started the whimsical dance sequence. Just like the viral video, it was soon swinging its arms back and forth with its head bobbing up and down. Moving to the beat of an unheard music, it also bounced up and down on its toes, occasionally taking a step or two to the side while rotating on the spot.

The chubby little bugger spun and twirled, dipped and bounced with all the unbridled enthusiasm a homunculus could muster. For a moment the dancing cherub had become a tornado of motion on the library floor. Completing the package were the cherub’s uncanny facial expressions, its eyes were wide open with artificial excitement, its mouth opened in a toothless grin while it repeated the dancing sequence on the spot again and again to the uproar of everyone present.

‘That was amazing!’ Maylin exclaimed and the others agreed. Some random sisters even went up to the cherub, teasing it to dance again to no avail. The atmosphere was getting lively here.

‘Won’t the librarian get angry if we made too much noise?’ I asked while looking around.

‘A librarian is right here.’ Said a sister, pointing at Welminah.

Eh? I looked at Welminah, she returned my inquisitive stare with an apologetic smile. ‘All members of the Orders Dialogous shares a responsibility in maintaining the monastery library.’

She then bent down to the cherub and talked to it like speaking to an old friend. ‘Eta-55, resume standard routine.’ The cyborg baby nodded, stood back up and floated away, ending our little show.

Huh, sisters of the Dialogous Order maintaining huge monastery libraries. How did I miss something so obvious?

*Buzz* Just as the small crowd started to disperse. Welminah’s communicator sounded. ‘Speaking. Yes she is with me. Very well.’ Welminah turned to me. ‘Your training session venue is ready, would you like to go now?’

‘Yes please.’

‘Please follow me.’

Upon knowing I was attending a private training session, Maylin could not hide her disappointment of being unable to attend and observe.

Soon, in a small training hall where only three people were present, my training with the imperial assassin started under the supervision of Veritta. Strangely on a table beside us were two egg trays, one was empty while the other had a dozen eggs on it.

Niandra was demonstrating what she could do with her strength by bending an extra thick metallic rod into a “U” shape. She made it look so easy, without knowing better one would think the rod in question was a piece of modelling clay. She then straightened the rod back effortlessly before passing it to me. ‘Here, you try it.’

I held on to the metal rod, felt its significant gravity pull and was suddenly unsure if I could do it. Holding each of the rod’s ends with my hands, I imitated her stance and pressed hard. The rod bent but did not go all the way. I pressed and pressed but the piece of stupid rod stubbornly refused to bend further.

Hold on a second, where did my strength go? Didn’t I just cut through human flesh with a hand chop?

Niandra co*cked her head and crossed her arms, silently observing my helplessness for a while before commenting, ‘you … have to go all the way.’

All the way?

I breathed deep, increased my strength output and pressed again. The rod bent slightly further, but far from forming a “U” shape.

‘More.’ Niandra said flatly. Flustered, I summoned more power and in my frustration, crossed an unseen line. A scary level of strength I normally had no access to poured forth and the metal rod gave way. It was so sudden my hands almost hit each other and the rod was bent into a teardrop shape.

‘Good, remember how that feels. Now bend it back.’ Niandra said.

‘Won’t it eventually break from metal fatigue?’ I was curious.

‘Not for this material.’

I did as told but was conscious of my crossing of the human threshold this time, the rod was easily stretched back to its straightened form and Veritta gave a small applause.

‘Very good, now do this to see how much control you have over your strength.’ Niandra said while taking back the rod and started demonstrating a new sequence.

First she bent the rod again, as soon as it became “U” shape she put the rod aside and moved an egg from one container to the next. Then she unbent the rod and proceeded to move another egg. ‘Now you try.’

I bent the rod as easily as before but when I touched an egg it popped the moment my hand touched it. Wow?

‘Be always conscious of the amount of strength you are exerting.’ Niandra lectured. ‘Without proper control you might accidentally kill someone if you mixed up different strength usages,’ she explained without further elaborating but I was already imagining a possible gruesome scenario. One moment I might be lifting something super heavy when a random person got too close, forgetting my current strength output I moved a hand to push the person away and … that’s how you get human goo .

I wiped my hand on a prepared towel and went at it again, popping two more eggs before succeeding with the rest. Niandra nodded in approval. ‘Excellent control, do this training again in the future whenever you need a refresher. That was faster than expected, we still have some time left, what do you want to do next?’

I looked at the imperial assassin, remembering from the games I knew their combat prowess supposedly rivalled if not surpassing even most space marine captains. While I was never into real fighting, would I be able to beat her in mock combat with my raw baseline stats alone?

‘Can we do hand to hand combat duels?’ I asked.

‘Nothing that risks injuries, please.’ Veritta chipped in quickly.

Niandra just looked at me with a hint of interest until an almost impossible to perceive smirk appeared on her face. She then nodded, held up a few fingers while starting to lay down ground rules. ‘You heard the sister. We have to make it a safe and civilised affair. First, no usage of strength above the human threshold, something you just mastered. Second, certain techniques are off limits. No striking to the back of the head or spine, no eye-gouging, no fish-hooking, no biting, no hair-pulling, no groin strikes…’

And that was how I got my first chance to test myself against a real deal. I was excited, this was the ultimate theory test of nature versus nurture. Pitting raw demigod statlines against a seasoned and hardened Assassinorum operative would be interesting, right? Even with the low odds I got a chance at winning this, right?

Under the supervision of a worried-looking Veritta, I adopted a stance dug out from memories of my internet trawling days, raising my hands up before me as I crouched on solidly-planted feet. Niandra in contrast relaxed herself, standing casually with her hands hanging loosely.

We exchanged silent stares for a few seconds before I decided to move. I launched my body onwards, covering the distance between us in a blink of an eye. My right arm locked back, chambered and ready to whip out once I got close enough.

As fast as I was with my transhuman abilities, Niandra was just as fast, if not faster. My feet barely touched the ground again when she took a step towards me and raised a hand that greeted my hurtling body. My sternum ran into her fist with a loud crack and I was sent crashing into the ground.

While I reflexively winced for the impact, defying my mortal expectation both the hit and the harsh landing did not hurt much at all. Since this body could withstand jumping from a few floors and land with contemptuous ease, this level of impact was literally nothing.

Standing up, I tried again by leaping to the left to flank Niandra. The assassin replied by dashing past me and lashing her leg out. Her shin caught the back of my knees and in the next instant I was tumbling face first to meet my new friend, the ground, again.

Thinking fast, I rolled into the fall, my face only briefly smashing into the floor before I pushed myself up on my feet. Before I could even regain my bearings, Niandra was suddenly right in front of me.

I barely twisted away from a jab to my face, just in time to register a protest from Veritta but that only left me exposed to a rising knee into my guts. Instinctively, my hands came out to try and catch the attack, but Niandra then took the opportunity to slam her forehead into mine, soliciting another loud objection from the sister hospitaller. Once more I fell, and I was grateful that my body did not feel pain so keenly.

‘Nian! No hitting on the face!’ Veritta berated her colleague.

‘Relax, these levels of attacks won’t leave any marks,’ Niandra replied calmly. ‘Even if it did, with her physiology she would heal in no time.’

After catching my breath, I decided to refine my attack. I lunged straight at her for the third time, my senses tuned to the max for this focused attack. Things slowed down, in time dilation I saw how Niandra moved and could not stop myself from marvelling at the sheer fluidity of her movements. Like a ghost she once more slipped past my effective fighting range, but I was ready for her.

Or I thought I was.

I sent a readied punch to intercept her approach, but she simply ducked under it and replied with a quick jab into the armpit of my swinging arm. Powering through the numbing impact, I used my other arm to deliver an uppercut into her body that was sure to hit.

Niandra batted aside the strike with such force that I was spun about, and then I was struggling as her arms were suddenly wrapped around my neck in a tight chokehold. I futilely tried to struggle free or hit her in an effort to break her grip, but all that got me was a slow descent into the embrace of my old friend, the ground. With Niandra’s legs wrapped around my arm and body, I tapped out.

After being released, I voiced my objection. ‘No fair, why am I always doing the attacking. Let me try defending for a change.’

Niandra almost smirked again. ‘That can be arranged.’

Ouch. I got trashed.

The imperial assassin displayed no fixed discernable fighting style, her moves reminded me of various martial arts; a hint of Kung Fu here, a bit of Karate there, flashes of Judo, hints of Krav Maga and dashes of Muay Thai. The only real emphasis of all her moves was brutal efficiency and effectiveness, the whole package delivered with lightning fast precision strikes.

The fights, if you could call them that, were brief affairs that ended so fast I did not even have time to work out a sweat. The later sessions of our mock battles had become so one sided I became frustrated and was forcing a slight resemblance of a win to no avail.

My little tricks and thought acceleration proved to be little help. Niandra was always a few steps ahead, whereas momentary time freezing was just like pressing the pause button in a losing game to look around, providing little but a slight delay to the inevitable. In this ultra tight close quarter melee, speed and strength with precision triumphs everything. It ended with me being body slammed onto the floor, prompting Veritta to call out in protest against possible injuries.

Aware that Niandra’s time with me was running out and yielding to her prowess, I stayed on the floor as Veritta hurried over to check on me. Silly girl, such level of body slamming can’t hurt an apex transhuman.

‘I am fine, only my self confidence is hurt.’ I whimpered as Niandra entered my view with her usual unreadable expression.

‘That was bad, huh?’ I lamented.

‘You telegraphed your moves too much. Your movements were fast but rigid and slightly restrained by your attire.’ She said matter-of-factly.

‘Can I have more sessions like this with you?’

‘We will see.’

Throne be damned, I hated the idea of being in a state comparable to a useless goddess so much. Starting from now, I will do whatever I can to gain daily life proficiencies and combat prowess.

=========================

Digital Portrait: Niandra

Chapter 50: V2 CH.13 FIRST COMMUNION

Chapter Text

After thoroughly trashing me, Niandra left soon after.

Accompanied by Veritta, I was on my way returning to the library when Herlindya intercepted us before we got onto the lift.

‘I heard Maylin had prepared questionnaires for you,’ the throne agent said to me and then she turned to Veritta. ‘I am taking over and joining the session, just in case.’ Veritta nodded and so I returned to the library with Herlindya.

We found Welminah and Maylin having a discussion in a corner. Both girls stood up the moment they saw me and I was soon dragged over to answer their questionnaires. I provided little information about myself other than arriving via a Mechanicus ship on a divine mission, forsaking all other details using the excuse of memory loss, and just went with the flow under the supervision of Herlindya. Unable to gain much on my personal nor important information, to my annoyance Maylin started asking about the details of my song.

‘What is the title of the song? Is it true that its lyrics are in ancient Terran languages?’ Maylin asked with an unhealthy level of enthusiasm without noticing Welminah giving her a quick side eye. The scholar’s surface thought was clear to me; Of course it is, I worked on the translation for days, then verified it with multiple other experts .

Wow, Welminah could understand English and Japanese. I had totally forgotten that sisters of the Order Dialogous were usually linguistic experts.

‘Do you remember your singing on Miracle Day? Hold on, I have it here…’ Maylin said and reached for her data-slate.

‘No need.’ I stopped her. No way was I going to let her repeat that painful memory. ‘I had seen the recordings and knew the song, but Miracle Day?’

‘That’s the unofficial name people had started using for the day when Nusquam narrowly escaped damnation,’ Welminah chipped in.

‘Then can you please confirm its title? People have been guessing for a while now,’ Maylin said excitedly and handed me her data-slate. On it was a news article discussing my solo performance and a number of speculated titles to go along with it.

I looked through the article and the proposed title list, caught a glimpse at the accredited translators names and saw Welminah Maeyer was listed as one of the primary contributors. I then read into the details, gasping internally at how close they came to guessing and before finding “Beautiful World” amongst the top contenders for proposed title, they had nailed it.

I pointed with a finger at it. ‘Yes, it is in ancient Terran languages. Whoever did the translation and guessing of its title did a great job. This is the correct title.’

‘I knew it! ’ Maylin exclaimed while Welminah’s face lit up upon receiving my indirect praise for her hard work. Looking at the happy preacher and scholar, I thought for a moment before deciding to properly honour the song’s creator.

‘It is not my song though, I have no idea why I remember this but, I knew for a fact the original artist is from Holy Terra a real long time ago.’ Maylin’s eyes widened upon hearing my explanation.

‘How long?’ She asked.

Should I give a proper date? Nah.

I thought for a moment before giving her a vague but truthful response. ‘When Holy Terra was still known as Earth and the seven oceans were still around,’ I answered and watched as her expression went from ecstatic to blank, unsure of what to make of my comment.

Ignoring a speechless Maylin, I activated the notepad function of her data-slate and wrote down the name, Hikaru Utada , before passing the device back to her.

‘Please properly attribute credit to the real artist.’ It was the least I could do for cross dimensional piracy.

It was near the evening when they booted Maylin out of the monastery with the excuse of visitors’ hours being over and they could not provide accommodation on such short notice. In truth I knew the Sororitas were just messing with the new preacher.

I was having another round of checkup done by Veritta, supervised by Magos Balpradus and oddly just another senior looking sister hospitaller who I had seen a few times. Usually there were more of them around, I remembered seeing a few of them during my previous sessions.

‘Just you two today?’ I asked Veritta, trying to jump start a conversation in the silence.
‘From now on, probably so.’ Veritta replied. ‘All the others except Sister Juliah here had voluntarily submitted themselves to partial memory wipe.’

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Thaberus’ words echoed in my mind as I stood still, contemplating the impact on the lives of people around me with my existence alone. What I didn’t anticipate was the effect of my response, in front of me both sister hospitallers had knelt down while the Magos had become completely motionless like a statue. From the reflection of his lens I saw myself, icy face and eyes gleaming with power.

I was angry. It showed, and people got scared. I could see while Veritta who knew me better was still relatively calm, the senior hospitaller was trembling slightly.

Did this guy just do a runabout version of “sasuga” boot licking?

Nonetheless, the magos did provide me with a nice exit ramp, so I nodded in acknowledgment. ‘I am sorry for my emotional display, but it was upsetting. Personally I view all personal memories as sacred.’ No one had any further comment so I then turned to the senior hospitaller, ‘Sister Juliah, we have met but never been introduced.’

We concluded the checkup and Balpradus gave me the report. ‘While I am far from able to divine the grand design created by the Omnissiah, but even with my limited knowledge it is my belief that you are as healthy as can be. Daily checkups would not be necessary from this point.’
Finally it was official, I was fit for duty.

Later that day, I received news that Canoness Diadinah had delayed her scheduled return, chasing after more heretic nests.

It was around dinner time when I noticed some news about the heretic hunts. Due to newly uncovered leads, hundreds of people had been arrested and many more executed. I wondered if that had anything to do with what happened today as my eventful second day of living in the monastery was coming to an end.

Dinner was a dull solo “I don’t feel like eating the nice food in front of me” affair. I had Solace, my servo-skull, scan the food for poison and toxin beforehand, a procedure Veritta had insisted that I should make into a habit. Speaking of dinner, I just realised having eggs around meant that chicken, our poultry friends back from Earth, had made it to the stars with us. I wondered if they were still considered the most abused domesticated species around at this time.

Soon after dinner Herlindya visited to get a detailed report of the psychic interrogation on the space marine. She was also staying at the monastery for the time being. I was half-way narrating my story when it occurred to me. C an I fully trust the inquisition? As much as my natural inclination to just leave everything to people like Thaberus and Herlindya, something was bugging me.

The way the inquisitor had asked me not to dig too much into their business was a dead give away that I was not fully trusted by them either. Then that vision of an inquisition rosette held by dragon claws burning in a fire flashed before my mind and I decided on my course of action.

I need to look into this myself.

I skipped the most crucial parts, finished the report and was left alone after that. Finally free, I was going to sort out my gift for Welminah when a scene outside the window caught my attention. My room had some large curtained windows directly overlooking the gated entry of the monastery compound, where a crowd much bigger than the one I saw had gathered.

Religious fanatics . I shivered and closed the curtains.

I then took the time to pick an outfit as the promised gift. Totally clueless on fashion, I selected a ceremonial gown which looked formal enough for most occasions. I remembered Welminah did pause for a second longer when she came across this particular piece the last time. Fingers crossed that she really did like it.

Talking about fashion, I was wondering where to get a sample of the mundane life on this planet when the television unit in the room caught my sight. Huh, why didn’t I think of that?

After some fumbling with the remote control, I managed to operate the ultra high resolution TV and spent some time watching their programs.

‘Something to discuss? Just come to my place.’

Welminah arrived soon after, I recognised her footsteps and unlocked the door remotely as she reached the entrance, then Solace welcomed her into my living quarters.

It was far easier to read the mind of others when the other party was willing and wanted to share. Even before Welminah was seated, I was already receiving information by casually skimming her surface thoughts.

Tomorrow, important Ecclesiarchy big shots are visiting… archdeacon, deacons, prominent priests and preachers. Seemed like the whole elite high-hat gang would be coming.

‘We have some very important guests from the Church coming tomorrow, yes?’ I asked preemptively, not wanting to waste time nor make her job difficult.

‘Oh, yes!’ Welminah answered happily, truly glad that I opened the topic for her. ‘His Grace Archdeacon Ricene will head a prominent delegation for a visit tomorrow.’ Then I sensed multiple worries that hung heavily on her mind; presentation and arrangements .

I played along. ‘Thank you for handling all the red tape and formalities. Should I wear something more formal for the occasion? Would you like to pick an outfit for me again?’

‘That would be great.’ Welminah bowed and smiled from the bottom of her heart as almost all her hurdles were immediately solved. We dug into my luggage again and went through the collection quickly, eventually settling on an outfit. I tried it on and the scholar sister nodded approvingly, satisfied that I looked formal enough for the important guests tomorrow.

‘Speaking of outfit, I believe I still owe you a gift.’ I said while taking out the folded ceremonial gown. Welminah went pale upon seeing her gift, and she raised a hand to cover her mouth.

‘I am sorry it is overdue, please accept it.’ I pushed it to her.

Welminah grabbed hold onto the garment respectfully with both hands, her dizzied mind eventually blossomed into a spring of gratitude and she finally said, ‘I will treasure this greatly.’ She even lowered her head slightly to hide her teary eyes.

Awww .

Anyway I should use this opportunity to ask questions about some issues that were bugging me.

‘Welminah, I was informed that some of the sister hospitallers who oversaw my recovery had their memories wiped. Who exactly in the Sororitas currently knows of my true identity?'

‘About that… as far as I know, beside me and all the palatines, only the canoness and her retinue, plus Sister Hospitaller Juliah, knows the whole truth.’

‘Not even Zharphia?’

‘Well, technically she won’t be in the list. But I am not sure if Canoness Diadinah had kept up with the code of secrecy with key figures like Sister Zharphia.’

‘Why?’

‘The true prophecy foretold the danger about proclaiming your identity to the world and we had kept the number of people in the loop as low as possible. However it is not beyond the canonness to disclose such information to trusted individuals to boost morale. At times I could tell she couldn’t wait to inform the whole world that the Emperor had sent his hidden daughter here for something truly massive.’

I winced internally, silently praying whatever was in that vault would be worthy of such high expectations.

‘Tell me about the Cardinal.’ I switched topics, hoping to know more about this infamous individual from a local. Welminah’s expression became visibly grimmer with the mention of the cardinal; she gave off the impression of talking about a black sheep in the family. ‘Well, His Holiness Paudinith IV might be too ambitious for his own good as the Cardinal of Nusquam.’

‘Why is that?’

‘You see…’

It was a fascinating story. In essence, a “nearby” shrine world, Sanctitas Primus, was the primary religious hub of the sub sector. A long time ago, after a particularly savage power struggle for the Cardinal throne on Sanctitas Primus, the losing faction who were on friendly ties with the nobles of Nusquam fled to the planet with the victors high on their tails.

Caught in the middle, the Nusquamese leadership then made a deal with the Church. It was agreed that Nusquam would remain a secular world permanently, forever keeping the Church out of its central political power structure to prevent the rise of a competing shrine world. And thus the exiles were allowed to live the rest of their lives in peace and a unique political structure was born.

‘Paudinith IV is a man who has great interest in power but is stuck in the impossible local political landscape to expand his influence.’ Welminah explained, ‘so at times he vented his frustration in an… unruly fashion.’

‘I see…’

We went quiet after that, in the ensuing silence I felt something slowly building up in Welminah’s mind. A while later she finally built enough resolve to ask her question.

‘Please, can you… tell me about the God-Emperor?’

Surprised, I took a closer look at Welminah. The Dialogous sister exchanged stares with me without flinching, but her pupils had dilated from the sheer mental pressure she must have experienced just to bring out the question.

She really did want to know.

As for me, for the briefest of moments, I felt like a person who just discovered my new best friend was way more interested in my “celebrity dad” than myself.

Not very cool, but totally understandable.

‘What do you want to know?’ I finally asked after a while.

‘Anything and everything.’

‘Hmm… I am sorry, my only memory of Him is beyond words…’ I started saying and sensed Welminah’s mood dipped sharply upon hearing my words, but she did a good job on keeping a neutral face.

What was I supposed to tell her? That for a psyker the Emperor looked like a sentient sun and His current mind was too shattered to hold a simple conversation? I only had second hand memory about seeing the actual Big E and it was quite a traumatic experience. It would be so much easier to show than to tell.

Hold on, this could be done just like that psychic interrogation, right? I can do that!

I became excited by the idea, it felt like discovering a new world. In theory I just needed to create a virtual vision and guide her synapses into my simulation. It should be a much easier process since she was a totally willing subject in comparison to the space marine.

The very notion of being able to give visions to others was utterly intriguing to me, so I decided to give it a chance.

‘There might be a way. Would you like to try?’

‘To do what exactly?’

‘For you to see Him yourself.’

Welminah’s face tightened up just by my mere suggestion but she nodded eagerly and consented. ‘I do not understand, but if it can deepen my connection with the God-Emperor, I am willing.’

Well, in that case I need to prepare the scene first.

‘Allright, give me a moment.’

[Psykana Activa] activated-
[Cogitatio Acceleratio] activated-
[Simulatio] activated-

Gathering my powers, I closed my eyes and began the massive internal calculations on recreating the mind-blowing psychic impression of the Emperor inside my mind. The work was not easy, to do this I had to push into the deep recesses of my memory which were heavily entangled with emotions. From there I painstakingly reconstructed my impression of the Emperor in that fateful reunion.

Running thought acceleration on overdrive, I tweaked and adjusted, then modified and improved the scene thousands of times inside my head. It was a doubly difficult process as most of the involved elements were not even physical in nature.

Nevertheless I persevered with brute computation strength and pushed forward many adjustments until finally, a satisfactory level of closeness of what I remembered was achieved in vivid three dimensional information.

Then it occurred to me I did not catch a glimpse of the actual golden throne in Syrine’s memory. That darn throne was so prevalent in all the lore, an Emperor sighting experience would be incomplete without it.

‘No promises but I will do my best. Hold onto my hand.’

* * *

What am I doing?

Asking the Emperor’s daughter to provide glimpses of the Master of Mankind? Is this not an act of sacrilege and an abuse of position of the highest order?

Welminah had been asking herself such questions a lot in the past minutes. Her pulse quickened just by reviewing her own actions, surely this was bordering on blasphemy.

But this might be the only chance she will ever have, plus Lady Syrine has been so kind and accommodating. Welminah had an idea of what was coming in the near future, this rare event of being alone with the Emperor’s daughter probably might never happen again.

So when she finally built up her courage and made her request, Welminah watched in mortification as Syrine abruptly went silent. Just as the sister believed a grave mistake had been made, to her surprise Syrine had turned around and agreed to her selfish petition.

More shockingly Syrine even spoke of a way to let her see the Master of Mankind. Not knowing what to expect but obviously unwilling to miss out on this, Welminah eagerly agreed to whatever Syrine had in store. Syrine then spoke of having to prepare for the experience and closed her eyes while the sister waited with bated breath.

A while later when the Holy Daughter opened her eyes again, her once depthless silver pupils glowed gold with divine light. Welminah had seen this phenomena a few times now, however this was the first time she was witnessing it up close. In the next instance Syrine extended a hand to her and Welminah took it without hesitation.

There was an explosion of light, and suddenly, Welminah found herself in a strange place. It was foggy all around, like a scene in a dream but her senses were vivid. As she battled with the incongruity, a child-like voice called out to her.

‘Welminah?’

Startled, the sister looked up and saw a small figure appearing from the dense fog. To her relief, it was Syrine, except strangely, she was a child here. Both her appearance and attire were the same, just that she had shrunk and looked to be no more than five years of age in this impossible place.

‘Can you hear me?’ The little Syrine asked as she approached, her tone and mannerism was as Welminah remembered, full of warmth and friendliness.

Relieved, she bowed and answered. ‘Yes, my lady. Where is this and why are you… a child?’ The little Syrine smiled and looked kind of embarrassed about her situation, patting her own head while dropping a statement. ‘Sorry, I am new to this vision thing and might have overlooked certain issues.’

Vision. So this is one of the many divine visions Welminah had read about, to think she was experiencing it herself and the idea that she was about to receive divine revelation shocked the sister.

Hold on, I just wanted to know more about the Emperor-

‘Anyway, let’s proceed.’ Oblivious to her inner struggles, Syrine pushed forward before she could protest.

Suddenly an explosion of light burst into existence as Welminah felt like a sun had materialised behind her. Accompanying the intense illumination was the rising heat on her back and an overwhelming presence indescribable with words.

IS THAT…?

Welminah had a hunch of who had appeared behind her and started to shake uncontrollably. Wanting to confirm with her own eyes, she was about to turn around but found her legs unable to move. Confused, she tried again but found her shaking body refusing any directive.

Feeling helpless, she turned to Syrine, only to see the latter glowing like an adorable little angel under the intense light, though she was no longer smiling.

Slowly the little Syrine started walking forward, her sight locked into the far distance behind Welminah. With every step Syrine took, the suffocating pressure from the unknown presence intensified. Up and up the pressure climbed until eventually it became difficult for Welminah to even breath. She was about to cry out for help when Syrine spoke again.

‘Welminah, turn around.’

That broke the petrifying spell and Welminah found herself able to move again, but only barely. Trembling, the sister started to turn, feeling the intense heat climbing onto her face as she did so. With a final colossal effort, Welminah spun around to face what was behind her.

The scene awaiting the sister was beyond her imagination and Welminah struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. At an indeterminable distance away was a pyramid shimmering in golden light, it was huge, clearly occupying a space far away yet it stretched and swelled to fully occupy her vision.

On top of the pyramid was a colossal throne covered with impressions of golden filigree that weaved through intricate circuitries, pulsating with a subtle energy hinting at the immense psychic forces that swirled within. Countless banners with powerful symbols and glyphs hung from the heavens atop of the throne.

While the overall scene was out of this world, it all paled in comparison to the illuminating figure that was seated in the middle of it all. Welminah’s mind went into overdrive, she simultaneously could not get enough of looking at everything, yet at the same time she found herself lacking the courage to look directly at the shining entity who she believed to be the Master of Mankind.

But this was what she had asked for, and Welminah resolved to not let this miracle go to waste. Under suffocating pressure, she steeled herself and forced her eyes to focus upon the figure that dominated the entire space, the source of all the intense lights in this strange place.

And finally, she saw HIM.

Seated atop the Golden Throne was an awe-inspiring glowing figure that transcended her mortal comprehension. Fully clad in an ornate golden armour that was embellished with intricate patterns, was a vision of divine majesty that radiated an impossibly regal aura. Obscured by the radiance of a titanic halo that was many times larger than the ones Syrine ever manifested, the figure’s facial features were impossible to define, yet paradoxically a distinct mixture of sternness and compassion could be felt with the weight of a million lifetimes.

Surrounding the figure was an ethereal storm of divine energy that danced in spellbinding patterns. The very air itself crackled with raw power, casting an otherworldly glow upon the entire space. As the sister’s eyes darted all over the unfathomable sight, she traced where the outgoing lights were heading and noticed for the first time the vast darkness surrounding Him.

The entire scene felt like a glimpse into the unimaginable scale of the Emperor’s existence, a testament to His sacrifice for humanity, a monument to His psychic might that protected all His people from the malevolent forces, and a symbol of defiance against the encroaching darkness that threatened to consume all.

Witnessing the whole divine spectacle, Welminah could not nor dare not move, her heart hammered like silent thunder, even the act of breathing felt like a sacrilege.

Then the little Syrine who Welminah had all but forgotten until now uttered a single word.

‘Father.’

Welminah felt every fine hair on her stood on their end as her God in the distance seemed to turn to the calling, and she herself was in the spot where His attention would land.

A feeling of an all-knowing, all-powerful force settled on her and the pressure Welminah had been feeling until now intensified many times over. Utterly petrified and having nowhere to hide, she stared back, and felt herself immolating from the sheer intensity.

His divinity… it burns.

Welminah wanted to scream, just as she opened her mouth a sensation that could not be anything else but being struck by lightning hit her and -

* * *

I screwed up.

Except for the unforeseen situation of me turning into a child in the vision due to the impression from Syrine’s memory, my little experiment was going smoothly and everything was working as intended when disaster struck.

The simulated vision was so realistic, without realising it I uttered “father” like how the Horus Heresy audiobooks always played with the word, only for me to witness Welminah dropping like a sack of potatoes moments later in the vision. Our little sightseeing psychic tour had flopped hard as Welminah suddenly fainted from shock.

After I hurriedly ended the simulation, I found a fainted Welminah back in real life. It was my fault, I should have anticipated this.

While for me it was like a fun virtual tour, for the sister it must have felt like the ultimate communion with her god. I even did some on the fly adjustments to let her experience the sheer presence Big E exuded and it proved too much.

Just as I was about to bite the bitter pill and summon medical assistance, to my relief Welminah finally opened her eyes.

‘Welminah. I… I am really sorry. Are you feeling alright?’ I asked, sensing the jitters on her mind which could mean that I might have caused some unknown damage. Welminah turned her eyes on me as she struggled to speak. At first it was all gibberish but eventually her words came through.

‘I saw Him,’ she said, sniffling as tears started streaming down from her eyes, but smiling as she repeated her statement softly.

‘I saw Him.’

=====================

Digital Portrait: Sister Dialogous Welminah Maeyer

Digital Portrait: Syrine

Chapter 51: V2 CH.14 CONFESSIONS

Chapter Text

It was late into the night when Welminah finally calmed down, promised to keep our little psychic adventure between us, and left. Thankfully she appeared to have suffered little lasting damage done from her “communion”.

Oh, right. I killed someone with my bare hands.

Strangely, I did not feel much regret, but that was probably due to my victim being lost to Chaos. Looking back, those flashes of lethal inspirations I witnessed when that Arbites trooper charged me two days ago were no fluke. I could have easily killed the officer with the same contemptuous ease of smashing up some tofu pieces.

After moving past the unsettling vast difference in the happenings of this life compared to my old self, my focus quickly zoomed onto reviewing the sparring I had with Niandra.

No fair . For the first time after coming to this world I was finally having some fun, but it was so short lived. The way I could move with this body was an unattainable dream in my old self as an unathletic couch potato. In my mind I replayed the melee sequence again and again, reliving those intense moments with my vivid recall while reviewing all my actions and mistakes.

I realised that while my body could replicate every martial arts movement with ease, there was no way for me to directly compete with the imperial assassin; the gap between our skills, lethal instinct and actual combat experience was simply too vast to be immediately bridged by any amount of raw talent. It was like having a running contest between a super toddler who just barely learned to walk against the reigning Olympic champion.

After many sessions of reviewing our fights, I eventually came up with multiple different ways to improve my odds for future matches. As I was simulating melee bouts inside my head late into the night, I sensed an increase of activity outside and got up to have a look. Peeking through one of the windows, I saw a convoy of vehicles entering the monastery compound.

Curious, I laid back down on my bed and closed my eyes. A moment later, I successfully sent out my projection to have a closer look. With my consciousness floating above many parked armoured vehicles, I witnessed many prisoners being rushed into the lower levels of the monastery, under heavy security provided by groups of battle sisters.

For a moment I contemplated on following the stream of prisoners to further investigate before remembering the unpleasant dungeon located in the area. In the end I decided against probing any further for my own mental health. This relentless transition from a normie who once lived an oblivious civilian life to a position of always looking at secret governmental activities proved a bit too much for my sanity.

I returned to my body, feeling the incoherent sensation of being in peak physical condition, but mentally exhausted. I pulled the blanket over my head and wished morning would come faster.

Eventually, morning did arrive. After washing up I went through the news updates and saw more reports of imperial forces led by the Sororitas doing their thing. Apparently Canoness Diadinah and her girls had been kicking arses, busted a major cultist hive.

The powers that be on the planet seemed eager to lift the spirits of its people after the near calamity by capitalising on the success of the heretic hunts, as the raids enjoyed major coverage. Sanctioned reporters were on site providing every bit of detail and one of them even briefly interviewed Diadinah herself. Flanked by her retinue, the canoness looked lively, praising the God-Emperor and dedicating her new victories to the recently awakened Holy Daughter.

Wait, that’s me.

Hey! Stop shovelling attention here!

I lamented internally, suddenly desperately missing my old days of having little to no drag on the world around me. Outside of my room, the world continued to grind on and through Solace I was constantly being updated on the preparation status of today’s events. After Welminah called to confirm both the second batch of test candidates and that the guests had arrived at the expected time, I put on the outfit selected by the sister and checked myself in front of the mirror.

Time to go to work.

I exited my quarters with Solace, then started walking down a long corridor to a common area where a secured elevator was located. All around me were high rising walls adorned with intricate religious gothic carvings and delicate arches that reached toward the high ceiling. The floor was paved with polished marble tiles inlaid with exquisite designs that resonated with gentle echo with every step I took.

In front of me, the corridor was illuminated by a soft radiance of an ethereal glow. Rays of golden morning sunlight pierced through the richly coloured stained glass towering above, casting a kaleidoscope of hues upon the marble floor where shades of vibrant colours competed for attention.

Solace the servo-skull cruised ahead in the air a few steps in front of me, scattering the minute dust particles that were floating lazily in the light, adding a touch of serenity to the scene. For a moment I had the illusion of being inside a six-star hotel of sorts, that I was on a long vacation on Earth visiting a holy site of a far away land.

Walking down the corridor, I was captivated by the interplay of light and shadow that casted dramatic silhouettes on the marble floor. Each step I took revealed new details on the towering stained glass windows, each of them depicting important local historical scenes and many imperial saints in vivid, jewel-toned hues.

At the end of this short but magnificent journey stood Welminah. Illuminated, she glowed with a shimmering sense of spirituality. I could not help but do a double take on the scholarly sister. Something seemed different about her today, something profound but so elusive that even my super human senses could not properly pinpoint.

Welminah bowed deeply. ‘Good morning, Lady Syrine.’

‘Morning, how are you?’ I asked, still feeling a bit worried about the incident yesterday.

She smiled before answering in a completely calm voice. ‘Never been better.’

We took the lift down and as we approached the meeting level, I detected Yehai’s presence even while being psychically passive. The senior psyker was using her formidable powers and the psychic resonance reached me even while she was quite a distance away.

[Psykana Activa] activated-

As my senses opened to the beyond I saw what was happening: Yehai was probing the minds of the delegates. As soon as Yehai sensed my powers, she greeted me with subtle telepathy, like a light nod to a friend that cut through physical barriers, knowable only between psykers. Mimicking her mannerism, I greeted the elder psyker back and then turned off my active state.

Turning around, I noticed Welminah eyeing me.

‘Yes?’ I smiled and asked.

‘I am sorry!’ She quickly bowed and explained, ‘it could be nothing, but… did my lady use your powers just now?’

Huh?

‘How did you know?’
‘I… felt something.’ The scholar said sheepishly.
Hey, hey, this got nothing to do with yesterday’s accident, right?

As I wondered about the issue, the elevator door opened to reveal Herlindya who was waiting for us. ‘Lady Syrine, sister, morning.’ The throne agent bowed, looking professional as always but with a distinctive note of, strangely enough, happiness this time.

‘Morning, Herlindya. You look extra sunny today.’ I said, dropping a probing statement.

The throne agent smiled before saying, ‘thanks to you, a somewhat troublesome situation has been painlessly solved.’

While her words revealed nothing, I was able to glimpse what was on her mind. Praise from Thaberus: Good job on getting the upper echelons of the Ecclesiarchy to voluntarily submit for mind probes.

‘I have laid the ground rules for the Church’s guests.’ Herlindya said cheerfully, ‘I told them you are under the direct protection of the Holy Inquisition. It is forbidden to ask questions about your background or anything related to the active psychic beacon.’

They knew about the psychic beacon?

I was about to raise that question before remembering that the cardinal was currently rushing back from offworld, probably with the guide of the very beacon, and he had been keeping in contact with his underlings via astropathic messages. Of course the Church knew.

Besides, there must be other sanctioned psykers active on the planet. There was no hiding the beacon from the rich and powerful, it was just not public knowledge for the commoners.

‘Holy Daughter,’ said a familiar, uniquely pitched voice arriving along with the approach of armoured foot steps. Looking behind Herlindya I saw the owner of that voice, Palatine Dominae Zeal, walking up to me.

Unlike Alicya, Dominae’s attire as a full fledge palatine was more decorated; her power armour was edged with silver highlights, a sizable iron halo rose from the top of the power pack on her back while many solid-looking religious trinkets hung together with a sheathed power sword on her waist. The flowing white tabard under her power armour was subtly emblazoned with many repeating symbols of both the Sororitas and the Ecclesiarchy, adding a hint of ranking to her appearance.

Dominae did not wear a helmet, her exposed face was a vision of youthful determination decorated with a few blemishes and scars that spoke of her martial lifestyle, but did little to diminish her overall charm. Spotting a modified version of the classic battle sister haircut with her dark blonde hair, she exuded a serene confidence despite looking to be in her late twenties. Her pair of bright green eyes shimmered with the lights of intelligence and zeal, hinting at the potent blend of compassion and righteous fury unique to the Sororitas.

‘Hello, Dominae.’ I replied, purposely skipping her title like I did with Alicya and silently hoping she would not treat me like a divine doll. Despite being one of few ranking sisters who knew my real identity, I never had the chance to know her better.

‘Greetings, I will be in charge of overseeing your events for today.’ Dominae said as she greeted me with the full compliments of an aquila hand sign and a deep bow.

Huh? Where is Alicya? She is supposed to be here today.

‘Is this prearranged? Why is Alicya not present?’ I decided to ask, but kept my voice as neutral as possible.

‘Alicya… is currently repenting in the cabin of solitude as punishment from her dereliction of duty for letting a heretic get close to you. She will be present in the afternoon.’ Dominae answered with a hint of nervousness.

What happened yesterday was not - I almost protested out loud before remembering something about how people in power should never display obvious favouritism. Despite how much I like Alicya as a person, my protest might actually hurt her standing in the Order. So instead I simply nodded. ‘I see, I will be in your care.’

Seeing I did not react negatively, Dominae smiled, brimming with enthusiasm as she answered. ‘I am honoured.’

Together we walked towards the meeting area where Maylin was waiting outside. Her presence pulled my wandering mind back to reality. I was about to meet the Ecclesiarchy dignitaries. That notion made me somewhat nervous and I breathed in deeply, drawing in the cool air that carried with it a faint scent of incense.

I must confess, meeting with the elite high hat gang was not as horrible as I had imagined.

With but a few exceptions, the colourful collection of influential clergy members adorned in their various Ecclesiastical vestments were mostly elderly men. Maylin stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of greying elders and late middle-aged individuals, being the only young person in the Church’s contingent.

As the official representative assigned to me, Maylin also had the honour of introducing the most respected spiritual leaders on Nusquam, making her stand out even more.

Starting from Archdeacon Ricene Venarrin who I had met briefly before, I was introduced to Deacon Octavius Mortimer, Deacon Maximal Voros, Deacon Lucirius Dornan, Deacon Celestia Veradis, High Confessor Malachi Dravien, High Confessor Caius Valerius, High Abbot Marcus Aurelius, Abbot Ignatius Cromwell, Abbot Benedictus Simeon, High Abbess Seraphina Valerius, Reverend Mother Octavia Sinclair and Lady Amaris Ravencroft.

I met their gazes and nodded as each name was announced. Judging by the trepidation and awe etched on their faces, my guess was that I was as unsettled as them while we traded first impressions.

These were the… elite of the elite the Church had to offer. They certainly looked the part, every individual was a living image of a monolithic priesthood, though some members were clearly better fed than the others with their pristine silky robes and pricey-looking trinkets.

I whispered silent, grateful thanks for my photographic memory, for I knew my old mortal self would have forgotten most of their names by the time the introduction was done.

Unlike them, my true feelings were masked away by [Regalis] while all their expressions were plain to read, and their unguarded thoughts flashed like roadside billboards before my mind.

So breathtaking.
She is like… a living doll.
Absolutely stunning.
Unbelievable presence!

On the other side of the hall were the new batch of candidates in vegetative states, all neatly seated and tied down, ready for the proven procedure from yesterday.

With little else to say to everyone present, I conjured my halo to start my work. As the divine radiance filled the hall for the first time today, the Ecclesiastical guests’ eyes widened in awe and disbelief, their mouths agape as they witnessed the tangible manifestation of their God’s power for the first time in their lives.

No tricks. No illusion.

From the corner of my sight I caught glimpses of their reaction. After overcoming the initial shock, some of the dignitaries bowed their heads, their lips moving soundlessly in silent prayer. Others were overcome by the weight of the moment, their hands trembling as tears streamed down from their weathered faces.

The archdeacon, while rendered speechless, was still able to keep a dignified demeanour, but his trembling mind was leaking loud thoughts which I picked up easily: Throne on Terra! This light… if we show this to the masses, we would instantly restore the Church’s reputation and the number of faithful will explode!

Ignoring the Church’s elite, I started working with the now familiar motion by stopping briefly in front of every candidate and blasting them with my powers, scrubbing away any trace of residual warp taint.

Repeating the results from yesterday, one by one I released the candidates from their vegetative state. Behind me, hushed whispers rippled through the assembly as the guests, each trying to comprehend the significance of the moment.

In front of me, the recurring theme of reactions repeated themselves with many of the candidates looking around nervously after being freed from their condition. A few recognised me and asked to confirm if I was the one singing on the battlefield. The cured were then taken away to be further inspected by the people under the Ecclesiarchy stationed next door for final verification.

As the process continued, I felt an increasing amount of frantic thoughts from some of the dignitaries behind me. Even without trying, many of their thoughts effortlessly leaked through.

One was questioning what he was seeing. What in the name of Throne… this is real?

A living saint is here. Another mind echoed, full of sudden existential crisis. A LIVING SAINT! In this inconsequential backwater world? Why? WHY?

I ignored them and continued on with my work. The process went on until one of the candidates, a trooper just like many others, started panicking and asked questions after regaining consciousness. ‘Did… did we lose? What will happen to me?’ His voice was weak and cracking.

‘That depends, are you still loyal and faithful to the Emperor?’ I asked and received only blank stares in response. I tried to read his mind but only detected a confused mess. This fella looked suspicious as hell and his silence was deafening. It got awkward and I took note of the closest battle sister tightening the grip on her bolter ever so slightly.

I got a feeling a world of hurt was coming towards this confused individual if this was not resolved immediately. Thinking fast, it occurred to me that this might be a good time to test a technique I learned from yesterday.

Flexing my powers, I quickly flashed the mental image of a stern-faced Emperor in His full psychic glory into the man’s mind while demanding a response.

‘Answer me.’

Echoes of my question rang out in the hall, only to be answered by a commotion behind me. I turned around and saw a plump middle aged clergyman, who I recognised to be Abbot Benedictus, stumbling on the floor, his high hat on the ground. Did he trip?

As everyone’s attention fell on the fallen Abbot, the chubby man suddenly started wailing in distress as tears started streaming from his eyes. In the next moment he was shouting towards heaven.

‘God-Emperor! Lord! I… I confess! I have sinned!’

What the hell?

‘Abbot, what in the Throne’s name are you doing?’ Archdeacon Ricene called out, his usual sagely bearing disappeared, taken over by an outrage triggered by the sudden shameful display of his subordinate.

‘My Lord! My Light! I beg for your forgiveness and mercy!’ Ignoring his superior, with everyone watching in disbelief, the weeping abbot continued to blubber out unbelievable words. More alarmingly, he started crawling towards me like a landed seal, his face an unhealthy shade of red and contorted with duress.

‘Stop! Come no closer.’ Palatine Dominae ordered and placed herself between me and the crawling clergyman, her bolt pistol drawn. She then raised a fist, and immediately a few nearby battle sisters formed a small protective circle around me while switching off the safety on their bolters with practised ease.

Seeing the sudden escalation, I activated thought acceleration and blasted out [Auspex] to check around for safety concerns . I quickly determined none of the Ecclesiarchy guests, including the one on the floor, were armed, nor carried anything resembling explosives. The sisters got jumpy because of what happened yesterday.

‘It is fine, he is not armed.’ I whispered to Dominae and turned to the Abbot on the floor. ‘Dear father, I wasn’t addressing you.’ The sorry looking clergyman on the floor froze, then behind him came more commotions as two more guests dropped to their knees.

The hall went into an uproar, and in the chaos Archdeacon Ricene lost all his composure and started ordering the sisters to remove the three clergy members prostrating on the floor.

Looking around, I noticed Maylin covering her mouth with a hand, pure shock and disbelief on her face while most of the sisters, including Welminah, were silently observing the scene with cold disdain.

I turned my attention to the three people on the floor and saw what was going on inside their minds. They were afraid. Deathly afraid. You would think as the top peddlers of institutionalised religion, they would have unshakable faith and would be elated to see any sort of Emperor’s miracle for themselves, instead I distinctly felt they were shaken to their core. Why? If it is not as if they were tainted by chaos…

Thinking my halo had somehow caused these people to act out, I turned it off and felt the charged state of the hall immediately went down by a notch. High Confessor Malachi, one of the individuals who knelt down earlier, shakily got back on his feet. Clearly unstable, he pointed a trembling finger at me and shouted with an emotionally charged voice. ‘What was that? Who exactly are you? As the high confessor of the Ministorum I demand you to provide irrefutable proof that you are blessed by the God-Emperor himself!’

Most people gasped, a lot more cringed at the high confessor’s clearly deranged action. Even the archdeacon looked totally stunned by the development. It was at this moment Welminah silently walked over to the confessor. I could tell she was furious, an angry cloud of emotion floating over her head.

As she stopped in front of the confessor, the elderly clergyman looked at her, confusion on his face. With everyone looking, Welminah delivered a swift hefty slap on the confessor’s cheek, the resounding fleshy clap resonated loudly in the hall.

Oh my god.

Everyone went quiet, and Welminah spoke in a frighteningly calm voice. ‘How dare you talk to Lady Syrine with such insolence. Her actions saved countless Nusquamese and she has saved our world from damnation by facing down a greater daemon. Even now she is saving more of our people, where were you during those trying times?’

Recovering from the shock of being slapped in front of the whole crowd, Malachi angrily pointed an accusatory finger at Welminah and continued his tirade. ‘You dare to hit me? Assault! She committed assault! Sisters! Abide your duties as members of our chamber militant, arrest this woman for striking a senior member of the Church!’ He looked frantically at the surrounding battle sisters, urging them to take action, but nobody moved.

‘That’s enough!’

An elegant voice called out with an authoritative tone, ceasing the frantic standoff. Pulling all the attention in the hall, Herlindya appeared with a wolfish grin on her pretty face, psyker Yehai by her side and a squad of inquisitorial stormtroopers behind her back.

Tactical boots clicking sharply on the marble floor, the throne agent walked slowly towards the centre of the hall as she made an announcement. ‘Throne on Terra as our witness, everyone here including our saint candidate, sisters of Sororitas and esteemed members of the Church all witnessed what just happened.’

Herlindya then paused, letting black cladded stormtroopers fan out behind her as she raised a small inquisitorial rosette. ‘As the ranking agent of the Holy Inquisition present, I find the behaviour of these individuals to be highly suspicious. With the authority conferred to me by Inquisitor Thaberus Thorn of the Ordo Hereticus, I hereby order an immediate arrest on these three individuals for further investigation.’

She then turned to the archdeacon. ‘Your grace, do you object to this?’ Archdeacon Ricene had no reply, he was busy facepalming himself with a hand and was looking down at the floor. The other clergy members exchanged glances with grim faces, a shared understanding passing between them on the pending fallout that would follow.

What a mess, all this because I misfired my powers? I thought as my attention turned back to the initial target of my test, the young man who was still tied to the chair. He looked to be in some sort of shock and had tears forming around his eyes. He was whimpering so softly that probably only I could hear his words.

‘I am loyal… I am loyal… I am loyal.’

I got a feeling this was going to be a long day.

Chapter 52: V2 CH.15 DISTURBANCE

Chapter Text

Two days after the incident with the Ecclesiarchy delegates, we were finally done with a sizable test batch of people. All that was left to do was to wait for the relevant authorities to verify the results.

It was lunchtime, and I was reading instead of eating. In my old life I was a creature of habit, holding onto the same job longer than my contemporaries would advise, and content on eating the same food in predictable cycles.

Just like in my previous life, I began adopting new habits in this new world. For now, the main routine I established was to skip lunch and use that time to flip through books in the monastery library, hastily building my knowledge of this world.

Abusing my recently discovered ability to process parallel thoughts, I pondered on the recent events even as another part of my mind simultaneously absorbed information from the flipping pages.

On the first day things had gone smoothly after the three disgraced guests were taken away. We proceeded to conduct the cleansing procedure until we ran out of people who were stuck in vegetative state.

We then went on to process candidates who were still conscious and functional. Things got a bit messy as many new procedures were adjusted or created on the fly to let my cleansing halo go through the rotating crowd safely and smoothly.

In between each cleansing session, I was being dragged around to meet and have small talks with the visiting Ecclesiarchy big shots. Most of the time it was Welminah who handled the interactions, with Maylin acting as intermediary as I talked as little as possible.

In contrast to my poker face game, the other parties usually could hardly conceal their awe, it was awkward and suffocating for a not so social person like me. Fortunately from what I was able to glimpse from their mind, most of them bought my semi-divine status.

I had expected the Church to be more cautious about their contact with me after what happened, but instead on the second day the new batch of Ecclesiarchy delegation almost doubled in number, as if the incident on the previous day did not happen at all.

In a short span of time I had seen enough people reacting to my halo in various unique ways to last a lifetime. Judging from the observed details, I highly suspected the reaction of each individual was directly proportional to their beliefs and devotion to the Emperor. In short, the halo might only be good for unnerving people who believed in the God-Emperor’s divinity. So in theory if an Ork charge towards me, blasting my halo should do little to stop the alien since it never gave a flying f*ck about humanity’s biggest boss in the first place.

We also took the chance to disclose my “amnesia” to the attending dignitaries of the Church. The disclosure genuinely shocked most people and garnered a lot of sympathy points for myself. It also provided the perfect cover for my eccentricity, an aspect which was unavoidable during my interaction with the dignitaries since I was not from this universe in the first place.

Meanwhile, progress on the vault excavation was steady but slower than expected as Kryptorer ran into more complications. I could almost feel the frustration in the archmagos’ voice despite his totally flat tone while reporting his status.

Outside the monastery, even with a supposed gag order in place, news of my activities seemed to have been leaked. Rumours about the awakened saint candidate having started performing miracles inside the Sororitas monastery was going around and was even discussed in the mainstream news networks. Since neither the Inquisition nor the Church seemed to kick up a fuss over it, I assumed that the leak was done on purpose, part of the imperial propaganda campaign.

In other news, Canoness Diadinah and her strike force were finally scheduled to return later today after an extended period of heretic hunting. Silently, I hoped that the return of many battle sisters could disperse the ever increasing amount of pilgrims gathering at the monastery gate.

That was how the two days went by in a blur with zero progress in my martial training goal.

As for now, back in the library, Solace had temporarily joined the cherubs on their eternal air patrol while I continued my quest on devouring knowledge. Exploiting my transhuman ability, I was going through the books with astonishing speed, reading one after another like clockwork. Every time I was almost done with my current book, I would mentally order a random cherub to fetch the next predetermined tome as a replacement to continue the flow.

People were watching. To the curious onlookers, I must have looked the part of a supernatural scholar, flipping through one book after another while the cherubs kept bringing over new copies and placing back the finished ones. In truth I was playing catch up, gathering information as fast as possible, hastily building my knowledge reservoir of this world and beyond to face the many challenges ahead.

I was enjoying the serenity of the moment when sounds of a rumbling stomach shattered my peace. I peeled my eyes from the pages and looked to the source of hunger: Welminah, who was sitting across from me, her face a deep shade of red. She had been shadowing me for the past days, even forgoing her own lunch just to stay by my side, but she was clearly reaching her limit.

‘You should go eat.’ I suggested.

‘But…’

‘There is no point in torturing yourself. Besides…’ I whispered, ‘you know that I am different.’

Welminah did not refute my point, yet she stubbornly refused to move and was beginning to look every bit like a child in a not-eating-her-vegetables rebellion.

I almost heaved a sigh at her silliness when the faint echoes of a pair of heavy boots marching across the marble floor tugged at my mind. My attention shifted, super human level senses automatically filtering out all the miscellaneous sounds to focus on the incoming footsteps. They were familiar to me, stern and purposeful, repeated at almost precise intervals. Even by the rhythm alone I knew who was coming.

‘Welminah.’ I said with a neutral tone, ‘Inquisitor Thorn will be here soon, go have your lunch.’

The sister scholar flinched before she bolted upright from her chair and started to turn around, just in time to catch the sight of Thaberus entering from the far end of the library. Flanked by Herlindya and Niandra, the inquisitor with his signature trench coat continued his stride without slowing, making a beeline towards my position.

‘Go, or he might invoke insufficient clearance to get you going anyway,’ I pushed. For a moment Welminah wanted to say something, but eventually she gave me a deep bow before leaving. Right on cue, as soon as the sister turned a corner, the inquisitor arrived with Herlindya. No sign of Niandra, she had slipped into the shadow somewhere.

‘Syrine.’

‘Inquisitor.’

‘Sorry to interrupt your reading session, you are looking mighty casual today.’ The usually stern Thaberus dropped an unusual comment before walking over and sat down on the chair Welminah had vacated a moment earlier.

Casual? For a split second I wondered whether he was referring to my attire or activity.

I was in my default white robe again since there were no more Church people to impress today. The look had been growing on me. I appreciated its simple yet timeless appeal, plus it suited my laziness of not needing to think about what to wear everyday.

If this was back in the twenty-first century, casual wear probably implied a tank top and hot pants. Wait, wait, wait… I could never live with that. It was a line my inner guy soul simply would not cross.

Hold on, what am I doing? An inquisitor is waiting for me!

Not wanting to keep Thaberus waiting any longer, I quickly flipped through the last few pages of my book before passing it to a waiting cherub nearby.

The cyborg baby received the book respectfully before bowing and took off, carrying the hefty tome with an exaggerated struggle towards its designated shelf space. Thaberus watched the cherub go before reaching into his trench coat and took out a scroll, without a word he passed it to me.

I used to think the omnipresence and usage of mediaeval-looking scrolls were a ridiculous notion in a futuristic galactic empire. Not any more. Unlike data-slates, these things required no batteries, were totally unhackable and more often than not, made of durable materials that would survive most rough handling.

I received the space age parchment while examining Thaberus’ expression for any clues of his unusual action. As always, beside the slight hint of amusem*nt at how serious I must have looked, he was mostly inscrutable and his mind remained an impenetrable fortress.

I gingerly opened the scroll and quickly saw that it was a report. A very serious report. The document was prefaced by an Inquisitorial logo with all its disclaimers, starting with huge letters stating FOR YOUR EYES ONLY. I glimpsed through its contents and was updated on some of the events that were going behind the scenes.

Firstly, preliminary results of my halo cleansing were excellent with all the candidates passing their purity inspection tests. While detecting minute warp taint was not an exact science mastered by the Imperium, it was reported for the first time in a long while not one test candidate woke up screaming during their sleep after receiving my cleansing light.

Huh, some good news.

Technically that would push my public miracles count to three and fully qualify me for the title of living saint.

Next, fresh off the press on a very recent report, about an hour ago, a huge Church congress attended by the many important religious figures from around the globe was concluded. Quite possibly why Maylin was not around today.

Sources indicated a sizable number of Church representatives wanted to immediately formalise my sainthood in their eagerness to boost the Church’s local reputation. But that notion was opposed by the major faction belonging to the cardinal, citing that such an important declaration should only be made by the cardinal himself.

After fierce debates were held and some punches were thrown, in the end the motion was successfully delayed, and they would wait for the cardinal’s return. Besides, the main bulk of the 20,000 troopers were still waiting for the cleansing procedure.

Following that, the Inquisition had concluded their initial investigations of the three suspicious individuals from two days ago. Apparently the three of them were known proxies of the cardinal and had been providing specialised whitewashing services to cover the Church’s shady activities for many years.

As for their reactions that day, I suspected it was due to them being affected more than the rest by my misfired power due to, hopefully, a sense of guilt. The Inquisition was now moving onto interrogating the three individuals to dig up more dirt on the local Church.

The next point in the report stated that the cardinal had been sending many astropathic messages to his subordinates while en route to Nusquam. These contain encrypted instructions.

Since the only available official astropath on the planet was still under the direct access of the inquisition, they helped themselves with the suspicious messages and had since cracked the hidden code.

It seemed like in anticipation of formalising my status as living saint, the cardinal had ordered his underlings to kick-start and promote multiple cults in my name. Thaberus’ people had theorised that the fellow might have planned to use these cults to gather more political power for himself.

My guess was that he would be claiming my emergence as a sign of more incoming apocalyptic events and that the only hope for salvation was to obey the Church, aka himself, or face the typical damnation and eternal suffering, blah blah. I would not be surprised if his end game was to convert Nusquam into a shrine world that rivalled, if not outright surpassed, Sanctitas Primus as the primary religious hub of the sub sector with him as its first pope.

This shrewd fellow is already counting on cashing me in.

The final point, and to me the most surprising part, of the report stated that the people at the sub sector’s capital world had managed the titanic feat of rerouting most of the warp travelling in the region. Using the psychic beacon I lit up as a fixed reference point in warp space, they had mobilised an untold amount of resources and successfully created a workable system for the imperial starships in the region to navigate the local warp space.

Most of the starships that were heading towards Nusquam had since been redirected to their original destinations or other more developed imperial worlds nearby. Being a relatively backwater world, Nusquam had neither the infrastructure nor the capacity to handle the influx of starships, so it was for the best. A few starships did end up here and the Nusquamese, with the help of the Inquisition, had been trying to recruit offworld astropaths. While this was done to remedy our desperate lack of such specialists, whether such recruitment process was done voluntarily or otherwise I had no idea.

On the appendix, it was mentioned that talks were underway to mobilise resources from nearby forgeworlds to urgently upgrade Nusquam’s dingy starport and related facilities.

Done with the scroll, I took my eyes off it and asked the inquisitor, ‘your reason for showing me this?’

‘I heard about your incredible reading ability,’ he said. ‘Rather than spending so much time briefing you verbally this would be more efficient.’

No arguing with that.
I pointed to the word “cardinal” on the scroll. ‘Any update on his investigation?’

‘We found something,’ he nodded, ‘and thanks to you, we managed to dig out more from the three. However, they were mostly typical cases of corruption, embezzlement, exploitation of the faithful, manipulation of religious texts, cults creation plus many rumours of …deplorable vices. Terrible as it seems, there was nothing nefarious enough to be on the level of damnation yet.’

‘Deplorable vices?’ I asked, noting his pause before the statement.

He shrugged and replied simply, ‘bad stuff. But since these are mostly unsubstantiated at this point, I will elaborate no further.’

The more I heard about this cardinal, the more it felt like he was a cookie cutter type of bad guy. To make matters worse, his appearance did not help either. From all the pictures I could find of him, the cardinal looked every bit like a comically overweight villain. He even mirrored Baron Vladimir Harkonnen from the Dune movie in body size, just not as muscular. Could such a caricature exist in real life?

While lost in thought, I was suddenly hit by a peculiar sensation of unexplainable unease. Something was in the air, something that felt wrong.

My transhuman heart rate quickened ever so slightly while my fingertips vibrated with micro shivers even though I was positive about sensing no immediate threats around me. It felt as though the fabric of reality itself had been disturbed, like the placid surface of a still lake rippling by flying sand.

Without warning I saw flashes of people who I did not recognise suffering, their flickering faces laced with desperation and I felt their pain almost physically. The episode felt like the glimpses of inner thoughts I read from random people around me, but a lot more intense.

Totally new to this, I struggled to pinpoint the source of this unknown upheaval, but it eluded me. All I could be certain of was that it originated from the direction somewhere behind Thaberus. Unaware of my experience, the inquisitor started speaking again. ‘That said, recently there is another more disturbing rumour going around…’

Receiving no response, he looked at me and quickly picked up that something had gone awry. ‘What?’ He asked, his tone turning serious.

‘I am not sure. I felt a disturbance… a distance away.’ I pointed past him in an approximate direction, after forcing myself not to utter the famous phrase to avoid a cliche no one here would even know about.

Thaberus took my words seriously. ‘Can you elaborate?’ Before he even finished his sentence, a beep sounded from the inquisitor’s ear piece at the same time a notification ping chimed from Herlindya’s data-slate.

I watched as both Thaberus listened to a report and Herlindya consulted her data-slate with serious expressions and knew that this was no coincidence. Something big must have happened.

‘Understood, Thaberus out.’ After a while the inquisitor finally ended his conversation with an unknown party, by now going into his full serious mode.

‘Sir, the Scholastica Psykana-’ Herlindya said urgently but was interrupted by Thaberus with a wave of his hand.

‘I know, under attack by armed cultists as we speak.’

Scholastica Psykana? Psyker school?

‘What do we have for quick response assets?’ Thaberus demanded with a low and dangerous voice.

Herlindya referred to data she conjured on her slate and replied without skipping a bit. ‘Arbites and local law enforcement units are en route, but they might be outgunned. Currently there are no idle flyers available for immediate aerial insertions except for Flameraven . Estimated time for any units from here to reach the Scholastica via roads is about forty-five minutes, if traffic conditions are ideal.’

‘Zaki is at that place, talk about bad timing,’ said Niandra who appeared like a manifesting ghost. Her sudden appearance did not surprise me for a part of my mind had been tracking her whereabouts since she got close, but her words shocked me.

‘Zaki is at the Scholastica Psykana at this moment?’ I asked, not bothering to conceal my concern.

‘Probably just plain bad luck, he was there to retrofit his null dampener. Speaking of which, the Scholastica is roughly where you pointed just now,’ Thaberus said while looking behind him, revealing his remarkable sense of direction. He then said grimly, ‘forty-five minutes is too slow. To think they would strike at a time like this, just when most of our flyers were out to retrieve Diadinah’s forces… this timing couldn’t be a coincidence.’

‘Sir, I just logged into the security system of the Scholastica,’ said Herlindya as she passed over a data-slate to Thaberus. The inquisitor viewed it with a stern expression before putting it down on the table for all to see. On the slate’s screen were many split displays showing what I assumed was live footage from the security cameras of the facility.

On some of the tiny divided screens, panicked people could be seen running for their lives. On other displays, armed assailants were giving chase, their assault weapons blazing. Many bodies, of both adults and children alike, could be seen lying bleeding and motionless on the floor. As the gunmen pushed forward, they shot and destroyed all the security cameras they encountered. One by one the pict-feeds were killed off, leaving most of the mini split screens in blazing static.

I watched, petrified as the atrocity unfolded. A numbed sense of incongruity took hold as the carnage before me overlapped with my memory of meeting Zaki, the little null boy with the cutest smile. Now he is somewhere inside there, in that place where this is happening.

At this point, Thaberus had contacted the active palatine on duty and started discussing sending an elite strike force into the fray with Flameraven .

I remained seated and mentally stunned while listening to the inquisitor putting up a plan, but soon felt my own anger rising. It was strange, the truth was I didn’t get to know Zaki well as we only met briefly once. That brief moment we had together was short but sweet, our joyful encounter a distinct contrast from most of the grotesque and horrible things crawling in this world.

And now that kid was in mortal danger, it felt like what little I had cherished was being ruthlessly trampled and stepped over.

Slowly at first but like a flame sparked on a dried grassy field, the anger within me took over. As my fury grew, another part of my mind was coldly calculating the odds. From the brief glimpses I counted, no less than thirty armed cultists present in the assault.

What if it was myself there facing these people?

I was sure we all did something like this before, imagining ourselves as the people who were caught in terrible events that appeared on a news flash, and wondered if we could beat the odds in their shoes. Only this time I was not looking at the situation as a human, but from the perspective of a semi-awakened godling.

Working with thought acceleration, I took my transhuman baseline together with my pseudo invisibility into the equation and quickly ran some combat simulations. I wanted to see how far I could push my advantage when it came to mortal combat with this crowd.

Before long, I believed, no, I KNEW I could do it .

By going all out and using the environment with zero reservations in the application of lethal force - not as if any of those bastards deserved mercy in the first place - even with my current limited capabilities and combat experience, I was confident in taking down the entire chaos strike team by myself. All of them. Every single one of those heretical terrorist sc*ms.

After all, they were just… humans with assault rifles.

Between my impressive strength and reflexes, projectile protection from a reinforced refractor field and having an apex level transhuman physiology for being a discount primarch, nothing short of serious anti-tank weaponry would pose a real threat to my life and wellbeing.

Even so, realistically speaking between the inquisition and the sisters, I imagined no one would ever allow me to charge in like a Khorne berserker. I was simply too precious for the establishments to take risks like that. At any rate, I was not going to stand idle in the face of such atrocities.

My mind was made up.

I stood up, immediately becoming the focal point of everyone around as I firmly declared my intention to Thaberus.

‘Palatine Alicya is gathering twenty battle sisters as we speak, the strike force is leaving in five minutes. You have two minutes to convince me why I should let you tag along.’

Chapter 53: V2 CH.16 STRIKE FORCE

Chapter Text

Not for the first time I stepped into the Inquisitorial gunshipFlameraven,but I had never used its side door before.

Upon entering the familiar gunship with Thaberus, Niandra closed the door behind us as I was instantly connected to the gunship’s machine spirit.

<++ Authority level administrator connected. ++>
<Flameraven, you doing well?> I asked reflexively.
<++ Fully operational and ready to serve, Authority. ++>

On my right I was greeted by the sight of Alicya standing in her full plate, her face visible thanks to the helmet’s visor being pulled up. Our eyes met and she looked surprised, which was confirmed a split second later from what I glimpsed from the palatine and her sisters’ minds.

Lady Syrine is joining the mission?
Throne be praised, she is with us on this.
The Holy Daughter is here!

Behind Alicya were two full rows of seated battle sisters, their dull silver armour glinting in the darkened gunship’s interior. There was that familiar low humming sound from all the active power backpacks, singing in unison with the low howling of the gunship’s engine.

‘Sororitas, salute!’ Alicya suddenly called out, and all the sisters formed the sign of Aquila with such synchrony I surely would have flinched as a mortal, it was an impressive display of martial discipline. Thaberus merely nodded and started to speak.

‘Sisters! The heretics are assaulting an imperial installation in broad daylight as we speak. This open challenge will not go unanswered. We have little time to prepare but the mission is simple, purge all heretics at the Scholastica! Once we are airborne it will take about ten minutes to reach the site. In the meantime familiarise yourself with the layout of the mission area as much as you can. That is all!’ He then turned to me. ‘To the co*ckpit.’

We went through the hatched door and came face to face with the lady pilot Tahsya, who was looking back from her seat. She was as I remembered, looking chill and sporting her cool shades.

‘Lady Syrine, it has been a while,’ Tahsya greeted me.

‘Hello Tahsya, long time no see,’ I returned her greetings and went to my designated seat from last time. As I was properly strapping myself in, Tahsya’s thought came through:Gosh, she still behaves like a model citizen, I better thank her for saving my life with my chance now.

Saving her life? When was…

I was startled for a heartbeat before remembering the trick I pulled to avoidFlameravenbeing crushed by a giant boulder thrown by that huge daemon in that fateful fight.

Why are such details always escaping my mind?

‘Let’s go.’ Thaberus dropped his order before Tahsya could say her thanks. The pilot nodded and took her attention off me, thenFlameravenlifted before roaring into the purple sky with its mighty engines. Despite having done this multiple times already, the geek inside me was still awed by its sheer awesomeness.

Once the gunship levelled again, Thaberus turned and passed something small to me. ‘This is made for you, a microbead with built-in Inquisitorial level access. You know how to use it?’ He asked.

I accepted the small unassuming-looking earpiece and was surprised to find it gene-locked to me. Reacting to my touch the earpiece activated. Unlike a standard user who had to go through the learning curve, the technological marvel that resided in my physiology seamlessly connected myself to all its functions.

Looks like I don’t need a manual with this cheat.

‘Yes, I know how to use it.’ I replied.

‘Good, Keep it on for the duration of the mission,’ Thaberus said while handing me a data-slate. ‘Here’s the layout of the Scholastica.’

I accepted the device and went through the data within it, finding the location of the Scholastica within the city and a detailed three dimensional map of the place but nothing else.

Suddenly there was a familiar buzz, Thaberus looked at me and pointed to his ear before saying. ‘Join in. Yes Herlindya, go ahead.’ I got what he meant and tuned in with my new earpiece.

Due to the lack of seats and the need of an Inquisitorial coordinator for all the imperial forces mobilising for the mission, Herlindya had stayed behind. From my high-end earpiece the throne agent’s voice came through clear via the vox network. ‘Sir, reports are coming in. The outer perimeter of the Scholastica is guarded by multiple squads of heretics. The whole attack force is possibly in company strength, and they have heavy weapons. They even have a few heavy weapon teams positioned on top of the building overlooking the whole place.’

‘Any idea if they are proficient with those heavy weapons?’ Thaberus asked.

‘Hold on… we just lost an Arbites rhino carrier at the gate to rocket launchers. Yes it appears they are proficient.’ Herlindya replied.

‘Darn. We might be heading for a hot drop.’ Thaberus cursed.

The professional cultists are at it again by being one step ahead. Now it is up to who shoots first unless…I suddenly had an idea.

Closing my eyes, I forced myself into a trance. While initially I was not sure if this could be pulled off under duress, a moment later my consciousness successfully slipped out from my body. Unbounded by any physical barrier, my projection dashed towards the Scholastica with astonishing speed, way faster than the gunship.

I released a long breath before saying out loud, ‘I saw them and their positions, four weapon teams on the roof. If we can drop from height and approach without them knowing, I should be able to take them out with our heavy bolter sponsons before they notice.’

Thaberus, Niandra and Tahsya all turned and looked at me, but no one commented. It was Tahsya who broke the silence a moment later. ‘We are reaching soon, if we are doing that it has to be done now. Sir?’

‘Do as she says.’ Thaberus consented.

‘Affirmative.’ Tahsya replied before speaking into the intercom. ‘Sisters be advised, hold on tight. We are going in for an attack run.’

TheFlameraventurned and climbed continuously before diving down like a giant raptor on the hunt. I ignored the sudden increase of G-forces and mentally took over the controls of the heavy bolter turrets as individual targeting screens appeared in my vision.

‘I am taking over the turrets, please maintain our approach,’ I said as the hunting started for the enemy teams on the roof.

As we dropped towards the building, the crosshairs before me zoomed in rapidly until all four fire teams on the roof were located and marked as tiny pixels on the same spots I saw earlier. Confident of the firing solution appearing in my mind, I triggered the firing mechanism of the heavy bolters and sent streams of mass reactive shells towards the unsuspecting targets. The cultists didn’t even know what hit them, all were blasted into smithereens and ended up as ugly patches of pixels on my vision in mere seconds.

‘Rooftop cleared of hostiles,’ I reported and disconnected myself from the targeting system.

‘Roger that.’ Tahsya replied and engaged the hovering system, bringing the gunship from a dive into horizontal approach for a swift landing on the roof.

Going in hot, the side and back doors ofFlameravenopened up even before we fully landed. As soon as the gunship touched down, the battle sisters stormed out and secured the landing zone. Following Thaberus and Niandra, I exited the gunship right behind Alicya who was waiting on the side door. We stepped onto the roof and were instantly greeted by the smell of blood and a scene of utter carnage.

Hitting humans with heavy bolters that fired solid-fuel rocket propellant and mass-reactive fuse rounds the size of small cans generated extremely messy results, as evidenced by the chunky organic remains and destroyed wargear that splattered across the whole roof.

As soon as everyone got out from the gunship,Flameravenpulled away with a roar and dove towards the outer perimeter wall of the Scholastica. There the gunship unloaded another salvo of carnage onto the entrenched enemies before speeding away to pick up reinforcements, not giving the heretics any chance of retaliation.

After watching the awesome display of firepower ofFlameravenand it speeding away, I charged up my power and fired a huge[Auspex]sensor wave, spreading it wide to cover the whole building.

Except for the areas shielded by unknown materials, I saw everything. What I did not anticipate was the presence of so many psykers. In the brief moment when my powers were activated to blast out the wave, a few dozen souls with psychic resonance lit up, registering like heat signatures on a thermal sensor. They were all hiding and cowering from the cultists.

I saw all of them and in turn… all of them saw me. In an instance I tasted all their desperation, their fear, and their awe of my power.

Compared to me, they were like tiny embers looking at a blazing bonfire. A lot of them flinched, most of them were stunned. Some were faster than others and realised I might be their salvation. They turned to me in slow motion but before they could ask for help, my connection with the psychic world was abruptly cut off.

Still, the experience startled me.

Wait, wait, wait, wait… I can’t help everyone immediately.

I steadied myself and went through on what I saw. Mixed within the influx of psychic emotions was the solid information I glimpsed from inside the building. I saw dead bodies littered throughout the place, the main entrance on the ground floor was guarded by a few teams of armed cultists, while the majority of them were congregating in the lowest levels of the building where a fierce firefight was raging.

That was when I realised my total newness to all these things. So much information, such urgency, and so little time to explain.Leading a counter terrorism close quarter assault mission? What the hell was I thinking by coming here?

I looked at Alicya, she returned my gaze with hot anticipation. I suddenly felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders.

Oh throne, what should I do?

Without thinking I raised my right hand, before belatedly realising no one would answer my many immediate questions. Thinking fast, an idea came to me and I reached over to the waiting palatine.

‘Your hand please.’ I said.

Alicya did as ordered and extended her gloved hand. I rested my palm on it, sensing her total open acceptance. Through manipulation of my powers, I attempted my best effort to imprint what I saw onto her mind while hoping feverishly this would work, otherwise we would be in for an awkward session of briefing.

The process took but a heartbeat. Alicya fidgeted slightly and her eyes lost focus, and my hearts jumped at that.

Did I screw up again?

Fortunately a renewed focus soon returned to Alicya’s eyes. She steadied herself and a single thought solidified in her mind:This needs to be brought onto the field command’s tactical interface.

I immediately understood what she meant and fired up thought acceleration for the work. In the span of another heartbeat I connected with the field command system that was built into her helmet. With the built-in access I had over most imperial systems, I set myself up as admin and marked the known location of every cultist on the tactical interface. This felt like that time with the podium of cables I used in the last battle against the rebel army, but on a much smaller scale.

Alicya gasped in surprise as she witnessed the locations of enemies popped up over the tactical display of her helmet. That was as far as an amateur like me could give in terms of giving solid support for now, it was time to leave the rest of it to the professionals.

‘Please commence the operation.’ I said.

Alicya bowed deeply. ‘Acknowledged, Holy Daughter.’ She then turned to the inquisitor. ‘Lord Thaberus, kindly look after Lady Syrine while we do the Emperor’s work.’

After receiving a nod from Thaberus, the palatine spoke to her sisters through the vox. ‘The Holy Daughter has revealed the enemies’ location to us! Most of the heretics are at the lower levels, with a small number of them guarding the ground entrance. Double speed to the ground floor entrance and hold position. Move out!’

Amidst the acknowledgements the battle sisters moved as one, their armoured boots echoing sharply as they charged full speed down the stairs with all their gear, having total faith on what was revealed.

Quick and precise to the point. Watch and learn, watch and learn.I mumbled to myself upon seeing the example set by Alicya and hurried after the sisters.

Thaberus appeared beside me, keeping his pace easily despite being a man of his age, with Niandra shadowing a pace behind him. While running, the inquisitor took a look at his data-slate which was updated with the position of the enemies since it was connected to the field command system.

‘What did you do just now?’ He asked.

‘I…’Quick and precise to the point.‘I scouted the area with my ability and mentally transferred what I saw to the tactical system.’

‘Now that’s convenient. So the heretics are concentrated on the lower levels?’ Thaberus asked.

‘That is what I saw, why?’ I replied while we chased after the mass of armoured women running in front.

‘There is a plasma power generator beneath the building for self usage in case of power cuts.’ Thaberus remarked grimly.

‘Then we better hurry up.’ I answered, the unspoken implication of it added to the urgency of the situation.

We soon reached the end of the staircase on the ground floor where the sisters were holding their position. Mirroring the information I glimpsed, no one was around here except for a few fallen victims nearby.

‘It is as you predicted.’ Thaberus remarked with a hint of being impressed before dropping a crucial question. ‘While highly unlikely, do you sense any powerful individual nearby?’

I was startled for a moment before realising the inquisitor was referring to the arch-heretic, the supposed cult leader who most probably was a potent warp craft user. I quickly checked my memory and concluded there was no presence of that sort in my brief glimpse of the psychic world.

‘Nothing. I will keep an eye for it.’ I said.

‘Please do. So, how do we proceed from here?’ Thaberus replied.

Hey, you are the pro here -

I almost snapped at him before noticing the subtle look on his face.The bugger is testing me. Well, all primarchs were known to be natural born generals, so maybe he was expecting the same from me despite being a discounted version?

Still, he has a point as the sisters would naturally look to me for leadership. Between an inquisitor and a semi-sanctioned living saint, it was kind of obvious who bore the greater command authority for the Sororitas.

Luckily for me, with thought acceleration I had a lot of time to slow down and take stock of the situation, essentially turning a real time strategy game into a turn-based command phase.

I checked the sisters in the strike force closely and for the first time had a proper look at them. With my connection to the tactical interface, I became aware that virtual name tags could be summoned at will to display each sister’s name over their heads like a typical first person shooter game.

There were the two Dominion squads of five women each led by Sister Superiors Serais and Miriah, all armed with their massive storm bolters that was the standard armament for space marine terminators. I remembered this as a typical power gaming setup in one of the many editions of the table game, so to see it in person was a bit both nostalgic and horrifying at the same time.No human will fancy being on the receiving end of their barrage.

Then there was a four-women squad of elite Celestians led by Sister Superior Lethica, acting as a command squad for Alicya. These ladies were armed with all types of lethal weapons, sporting a few combi-weapons and a heavy bolter carried by a bulky looking Sister Lysandra.Let the big girl carry the big gun.

Lastly a five-women squad of standard battle sisters led by Sister Veryan with one of them carrying the other heavy bolter. After having a good look at our people and the current tactical situation, my gamer sense kicked in.

‘The enemies outnumber us, but they are split up between the lower levels and outer perimeter while we have the advantage of surprise and fire power. We should move forward to stop whatever they are up to while leaving a squad to cover our back, in case the other half of the enemies on the outside fall back and get us pincered.’ I offered.

Both Alicya and Thaberus nodded, giving my gamer instinct a passing grade. ‘Squad Veryan, hold this choke point while we move forward. Fall back to us if you are overwhelmed.’ Alicya ordered, putting her least lethal squad on covering duty.

Suddenly Herlindya’s voice cut in from my ear piece, this time she sounded choppy from a weak connection. ‘Sir, Sororitas convoy reports ETA in roughly twenty minutes.’

‘Roger that. We are about to make contact and should soon lose connection with you. Thaberus out.’ The inquisitor said.

‘Why the sudden loss of connection?’ I asked.

Thaberus looked at me with amusem*nt before saying, ‘comm beads range is only good for about ten kilometres. We had been boosted byFlameraven’son board systems that allowed direct communication with Herlindya back at the monastery. With the gunship getting further away and interference from inside this building, she won’t even be able to reach us just now if not for our cutting-edge gear.’

Oh, my noobness is showing again.

Thaberus then looked to Niandra and dropped his own directive. ‘Locate and eliminate the commanders of the outer group, then aid our reinforcements in.’

The assassin nodded and dashed away like a ghost, producing little to no sound as she disappeared down the corridor. Wordlessly Thaberus took out an ornamental looking bolt pistol from one of his holsters. I noted the huge inquisitorial emblem on the side of what must be a master-crafted weapon. He then squatted down to pull up another small arm from one of his boots and passed its handle to me. I recognised the weapon to be a shredder autopistol.

Tempted as I was to pick up and use the cool looking gun, there was the problem that I had never used a firearm before in my life.

‘I… currently have no idea of how to use a gun,’ I reported truthfully. Thaberus had a “for real?” look on his face for a fraction of a second before seemingly coming to the conclusion that a single autopistol would not make much difference in terms of our current firepower.

The inquisitor nodded, put back the weapon and stood up. Turning off the safety of his bolt pistol, he exuded the air of a man who was about to do a routine which he had done thousands of times before and asked casually, ‘ready?’

It was finally time to fight the cultists head on.

Chapter 54: V2 CH.17 INTO THE GUNFIGHT

Chapter Text

Thirty minutes before the Sororitas made their first contact with the heretics inside the scholastica, it was still bustling at the mess hall as lunch time was coming to a close.

Welminah was just about to dig in when someone sat down across the table. While the place was of a communal setup and table sharing was the norm, the fact that there were plenty of empty seats around made Welminah look up from her tray of food. She relaxed upon recognising who had come to share her table.

‘Hey, if it isn’t the scholar thrice blessed by the Throne. How are you doing?’ teased the newcomer, a young brunette in power armour with a friendly smile, a rare expression to be found on a battle sister.

‘Mireya. It has been a while,’ Welminah said to her old friend.

‘Indeed. Look at you, who could have guessed the meekest girl in the dorm back then could one day be slapping a high confessor?’ Mireya said teasingly, putting her standard issue Sabbat pattern helmet down on the table before asking another question.

‘So, what made you so bold?’

‘I…’ Welminah stumbled for a second, finding it hard to explain herself. ‘I was caught up in the moment, after witnessing the events up close it was hard not to get angry.’

‘Really?’ Mireya asked.

‘I swear by the Throne.’

‘Huh, it does feel like you have somehow changed.’

‘Surely you are just pulling my leg again,’ Welminah scoffed, but found the tease not unwelcoming. Being bunkmates back at the old novitiate days meant that Mireya was one of the few associates she could comfortably lessen formalities with.

Mireya’s smile broadened before she bent over to whisper her next question. ‘So, how many miracles have you personally witnessed? And how was it?’Witnessed miracles?The questions triggered Welminah’s recent memories of the vision. As the visage of the Master of Mankind abruptly flashed before her mind, Welminah found herself overwhelmed by intense emotions.

So divine, SUCH GLORY! I have seen-

Welminah so very much wanted to tell her friend and the rest of the world of what she saw before sharply remembering her promise to keep it a secret. Lost in memory of the Emperor’s divine grandeur, it took a while before she finally replied, ‘it was… glorious.’

By then Welminah finally noticed the unusual quietness that had settled on the mess hall, more alarmingly Mireya was looking at her with a strange expression.

‘What?’ Welminah asked.

‘Is everything alright?’ Mireya asked with a hint of concern.
Welminah suddenly became aware that tears were running down from her eyes and everyone around was looking at her.

Embarrassed, she quickly wiped her tears off. Before their conversation could continue a siren sounded, at the same time vox messages crackled out from most of the helmets in the mess hall, shattering the brief tranquillity. Even without listening to the full messages, Welminah knew the battle sisters were being summoned.

‘Got to go. Catch up with you later,’ Mireya said before grabbing her helmet and hurriedly left. Welminah watched as her friend stormed out with the others, their armoured boots cracking sharply on the monastery’s marble floor before fading into the distance.

Sensing the unusually tense atmosphere, Welminah’s gut told her that this was not a drill before a pang of hunger reminded her why she was in the mess hall.

Turning her attention back to her food, Welminah had just started drinking her soup when she was again interrupted by a buzz. Annoyed, the scholar took out her communicator and looked at the caller’s identity. Upon seeing the displayed name, she quickly accepted the call.

‘Welminah speaking.’

‘Sister Welminah,’ Palatine Dominae’s voice came through with her signature pitch. ‘Join us immediately at the primary staging area, we have an emergency mission and will be moving out soon.’

‘Huh? But my duty…’

‘Sister, listen to me,’ the normally courteous Dominae interrupted, hinting at the seriousness of the situation, ‘your “charge” left a moment ago on a gunship. We will be heading to the same area.’

We finally made contact with the hostiles.

The enemy combatants were armed men in flak armour covered by makeshift combat fatigues, and their movements suggested having received a decent amount of military training.

Unfortunately for these guys, their standard issue armour offered little to no protection against bolt rounds, they might as well have been naked when pitted against the Sororitas and their bolters.

The sisters on the other hand had more than proven their status as elite shock troops. As an avid gamer who had spent thousands of hours on first person shooters, I was confident from the start that our advantage was overwhelming in a standard shootout. The sisters had bigger guns, power armour, better training, nerves of steel, and best of all, were provided with literal “wall hacks” by my abilities.

How these advantages panned out in real life though far exceeded my expectations. Superior in almost every metric against our opponents, the sisters gunned our way through the grim corridors of the scholastica, barely breaking stride as we proceeded towards the thickest concentration of enemies in the lower levels.
We soon established a routine: I would hear random heretics approaching from a distance away and drop a warning, and after confirming their positions with short bursts of my detection waves, I instantly updated the tactical system and the sisters would handle the rest. It was brutal, like watching a group of seasoned diamond league elite players mercilessly steamrolling newbies in a shooter game’s team deathmatch.

More than once some random armed heretics would turn a corner only to have their brains and innards splattered on the walls, and the rest of their comrades hardly had the time to react before being overwhelmed by the Sororitas.

I witnessed first hand how the battle sisters fully exploited their advantage by walking straight in, bolters blazing at near point blank range, shouting praises to the God-Emperor. The surprised cultists usually returned few if any shots, and those lucky enough to hit bounced harmlessly off the sisters’ power armour.

Watching the Sororitas doing their work from a relatively safe distance behind, I almost pitied the cultists. The sisters on the other hand relished in their systematic destruction of the heretics and were seemingly joyous when dishing out their lethal retributions.

The two leading Dominion squads with their expert usage of storm bolters especially impressed me. The sights and sounds of them rapidly laying down massive amounts of bolt rounds with such accuracy was horrifying to behold, equally terrifying was the mess they left behind. Their gruesome work painted the drab interiors of the place with blood, human remains and miniature craters. Through it all, Alicya was exemplary as a field commander, leading from the front while dropping sharp and clear instructions to her sisters.

With the Sororitas doing a great job with sanctioned violence, Thaberus rarely used his weapon. Though I noted that every time the inquisitor fired his master crafted bolt pistol, a random head would burst on the other side. His fighting style was as cold and meticulous as his personality.

I was walking past another pile of dead cultists when my shoe almost stepped into a rapidly forming pool of blood. Like breaking from a trance, for the first time a realisation came to me about how knee deep I was in this bloody business of homicide.

No sir. This is not a video game.

People did not turn into a loot box or disappear after they got taken out. Dying cultists twitched and squirmed on the floor, lying in a puddle of their own blood, piss and innards while desperately holding on to their fading life.

Looking at the sheer savagery of violence on display, a part of me who was still a pacifist normie was starting to freak out. In stark contrast Thaberus and the Sororitas spared no extra glance on the fallen after making sure they were no longer a threat.

I feel…out of place.

But there was no going back now, I asked for this after all. Recalling my reason being here, I steeled my resolve and pressed forwards.

Halfway through the motion, my attention was pulled towards a particular transmission in the air and automatically tuned into it with my earpiece. After a brief wash of static, voices started popping in my ear.

‘Captain Mokitarr, can you hear me?’ asked a man, his voice harsh and hard. A heartbeat later an even harsher voice replied amidst background sounds of fierce firefights.

‘I hear you, go ahead.’

‘A gunship did a strafing run on our position a moment ago. Contact seems to have been lost with the topside overwatch teams.’

‘What? How long ago was that and why are you only informing me now?’ Mokitarr asked.

‘My apologies, it was a few minutes ago. The main vox operator and some people were killed, we held firm and are still now pushing back the imperial dogs. I have sent people to check on the top side and we will know what happened soon.’ The first voice replied.

There were a few deep breaths before Mokitarr spoke again. ‘Did you get a good look at what type of gunship it was? Am I to assume the corpse worshippers had inserted troops from the top of the building?’

Corpse worshippers was a standard derogatory term used by followers of Chaos for the imperials, due to the Emperor of Mankind being a literal corpse since the end of Horus heresy. I had come across the term many times in stories about this universe, to hear it in real life with such a hateful tone added a layer of indescribable context.

‘No idea of the gunship model, it went by too fast to be identified,’ the first voice responded.

Judging from the two samples here, having a harsh deep voice that made you sound like a typical B-movies bad guy might be a prerequisite to climb the heretical leadership ladder. That said, this Mokitarr guy was really quick on the uptake.

They will soon know we are here.

With a flick of my mind, I jammed the channel with static noise like it was the most natural thing. A bit stumped by my own reflexive action,I turned to Thaberus and tried to pick up signs if he noticed what just transpired, only to receive a questioning look from the inquisitor.

I spoke into the command channel that connected me, Thaberus and Alicya. ‘The heretic commander outside just contacted their main leader in the building. They are aware of our possible insertion.’ The palatine paused slightly upon hearing what I said but quickly resumed her stride.

‘What did they say?’ Thaberus asked. I noted the inquisitor did not even bother to inquire about how the information was acquired.

‘They are sending people to check on their roof teams, so our advantage of surprise should expire soon. I have jammed their channel for now.’ I answered just as another transmission flared up, prompting me to join in automatically again .

‘My captain, can you hear me?’ The first voice came through again, instinctively I knew this was a different channel, probably a backup. My mind turned and I realised a lot more could be done.

I first jammed the new channel before unjamming the previous channel, in the process connecting myself to Mokitarr. Activating thought acceleration, I synthesised the voice of the first heretic in my head before playing the result on the other side.

‘My captain, can you hear me?’ I even used the same line.

‘You broke off for a while, speak!’ Mokitarr who had stayed on the first channel replied, sounding impatient with echoes of a heavy gun battle still raging around him.

Thinking fast, I started to bullsh*t Mokitarr. ‘My men have reached the roof, the topside teams are badly mauled by the gunship but there are survivors. They reported no troop insertion. I repeat, no troops…’ then I trailed off, jammed the channel again and left it at that.

Ending the call, the absurdity of me pranking a cultist leader almost made me laugh out loud despite the fact I just witnessed some highly unpleasant and gruesome events up close.

Is this a coping mechanism?

I noticed Thaberus was giving me his “what’s up?” look. I shrugged and said, ‘I bought us some time, but it won’t be long.’ Just as that statement was made, my mind picked up yet another transmission flaring up on a new and different channel.

Bastards are persistent, too bad I will just jam it again.

‘Can anyone hear me?’ Against my expectation, a new voice came through. Similar to the heretic leader, sounds of gunshots were cracking in the background of this newcomer.

‘Thorn here, I hear you.’ To my surprise, Thaberus responded to it.

‘He lit the way forward for humanity,’ the new voice said without any context.

‘Without Him, we are damned and will be lost in eternal darkness.’ The inquisitor replied without skipping a beat.

What the? Thaberus has contacts inside this place?

‘By the Throne! Thorn, is that really you?’ the voice asked with barely concealed emotion.

‘Yes Kael, I am close. The cavalry is on its way. What happened and what is your situation?’

‘These heretics appeared suddenly out of nowhere! We are currently barricaded in the reinforced section before the plasma generators. How close are you?’ Asked Kael, whoever this person was.

‘Very close. How long can you hold?’

There was another round of intense exchange of gunfire before Kael’s voice came through again. ‘Not for long, we are pinned hard.’

‘Hold on just a little longer, help is on the way. Thorn out.’ Thaberus finished his conversation before speaking into the command channel, ‘move faster, we have people in dire need of our aid.’

Before long we reached a junction where constant gunshots could be heard and I sensed a lot of people in front. It was the main event. I ordered the team to hold before sending out a wide detection wave to scan the area.

Immediately a detailed three dimensional image of the area solidified in my mind and enemy positions lit up like angry rashes on an infected skin. There were more than four dozen heretics between us and the besieged imperials. The way forward was narrowed down into a long corridor about fifty metres in length leading into another wider area.

The corridor was guarded by two small squads of cultists, rear guards to watch their backs. Mokitarr was not taking any chances despite my attempts at misdirection. As I updated the tactical information and shared it to my team, the opposition’s numerical advantage made even Thaberus pause.

‘So many, we need a plan.’ The inquisitor whispered.

‘You got any suggestions?’ I asked.

‘It would be nice if we could have a few grenades exploding in their midst.’ Thaberus said almost jokingly before asking, ‘do you still intend to attempt capturing the leader in this situation?’

Earlier that day to make my case to tag along, I had reasoned with Thaberus that it would be quite safe as the enemies would not expect me to show up.

While the inquisitor conceded on that point, he still saw no reason for me to take the risk. Needing a push, I upped the ante and offered to attempt capturing the enemy leader alive with my unconventional abilities if permitted to go.

That notion of being able to retrieve valuable information greatly tempted Thaberus, and in response he threw an inquisitive side glance at Niandra. The imperial assassin was silent for a while before shrugging and dropped her verdict, ‘if she is serious, there might be no better qualified person on this planet for the task. Looking at the enemy composition, it would be a low risk combat experience for her.’

With Niandra vouching for me, Thaberus finally conceded to let me join the mission. Now it was time to prove the value of my words. Activating thought acceleration, everything around me slowed down as I studied the situation in greater detail.

There were a myriad of dead bodies scattered across the area, hinting at the intensity of battle that had been raging for a while now. What caught my attention was some unusual figures with distinctive, sinister looking armour amongst the fallen.

Who are these? Chaos elite troopers?

At a loss of what I was seeing, my attention shifted back to the situation at hand. Currently the heretic main force was focusing on the entrenched imperials with two small squads watching their back.

Now that I think about it, since our opponents were all unaugmented humans, Thaberus’ casual mention of grenades attack was not a bad idea. Grenades being a standard wargear for the well armed Sororitas, I could get a few from them, then go in shrouded for the attack. Crude but effective.

With the idea in place, I double checked my readings on the individuals guarding the corridor, carefully examined each and every one of them for advanced optics or eye implants that might spoil my plan.

I found nothing that seemed capable of bypassing my stealth field. This could work. Now I just needed to locate and capture Mokitarr alive to complete all my objectives.

Looking at my readings, I noticed an individual in the middle of the main heretic ranks that might be the leader. Unlike his comrades, this person wore a proper set of carapace armour complete with shoulder pads decorated with extra spikes.

Going by my meta knowledge regarding the forces of Chaos, being extra spiky was definitely a mark of status. My gut feelings informed me this was Mokitarr, but I had to be sure. I sent out a short sensor wave targeting this individual before connecting myself to the first channel the heretics had used.

‘Captain, do you read me?’ I masqueraded as his subordinate again. In real time, I witnessed the prime suspect touching his earpiece before a familiar harsh voice came through on my side. ‘Speak!’

Bingo.That’s the heretic captain right here. I dropped and jammed the channel again, it was time to execute my plan.

‘Alicya.’ I called out, beckoning her.

‘Yes?’ The palatine came over respectfully.

‘Two frag grenades please.’ I requested with my hands out.

Alicya hesitated for a half a second before dutifully taking off two of those deadly devices from her pouch and offered them to me. The grenades felt cold and hard to the touch. For a second I was about to remark about them being surprisingly light-weight before remembering my transhuman strength.

‘What is the fuse time and the effective ranges for these?’ I asked, needing the details to plan my attack.

‘Four to five seconds after the safety pin is removed. Resulting blast is lethal within a radius of five metres, incapacitating up to about fifteen metres for standard humans.’ Alicya answered smoothly.

While I expected an informative answer, until this moment it never crossed my mind that a pretty young lady like her could be so well versed on details for such horrible stuff. It felt… wrong.

That aside, there was still a final hurdle that proved to be a headache: how was I supposed to pull this off without exposing my stealth ability?

I was still confirming with Alicya about how to properly pull grenade pins when Thaberus who was watching from the side voiced his concerns. ‘For real? And how do you plan to deliver these?’ Before I could say anything there was a sudden loud explosion in the front.

As everyone instinctively turned to look, in slow motion I realised this was my chance. Pushing thought acceleration to the max, I activated my shadow walk ability and dashed out with all my strength. In the blink of an eye, I passed by the sisters in front of us. None reacted.
No one saw I ran out.

My hearts were racing, for I was about to do something that would either be very awesome or very stupid. It was the moment of truth as I rushed into the corridor with a grenade in each hand. My hearts pumped faster as I was half expecting rounds to be cracking at me by this point.

No shots came.

In the long corridor some of the heretic rear guards were looking back at their main force, checking on the commotion. As for the others who were still watching the corridor, none reacted to my entry. It worked!

Exerting myself, I crossed over fifty metres of the enemy defensive line in less than three seconds. While dashing over many dead bodies I got a good look at the unusual figures from earlier, their armour was jet black and looked even more sinister up close, but weirdly these did not feel like they belonged to the enemy.

Still totally clueless of these mysterious figures, I pushed them out of my head and focused back on the mission. Uncontested, I reached the end of the corridor and slipped into the main heretic crowd.

This was by far the most horrible place of what I had seen in the scholastica. The air was dusty with a persistent smell of gunpowder, sweat, blood and bodily waste. Debris, dead bodies and countless spent bullet casings littered the whole place while angry men with desperate energy were moving about, shooting and cursing.

Making a beeline towards my target, I avoided colliding with a few random heretics due to my pseudo invisibility and soon found myself standing beside the heretic leader.

Mokitarr was an intimidating figure. Tall and muscular, he had the face of a seasoned fighter that hinted of crawling out from some ghetto hellhole to become its champion. Standing close to six feet tall, he radiated an exceedingly cruel aura, the type of person that would make past life me flinch by his mere attention.

The heretic leader’s imposing quality was further amplified by his choice of fashion; he wore a set of dark carapace armour, both his helmet and his shoulder pads were decorated with sharp looking large spikes. A huge Chaos symbol was painted proudly in blood red over his chest piece while another metallic emblem of Chaos hung from his neck, as if anyone could misidentify his allegiance.

Marking Mokitarr’s individualism further, he was carrying a large decorated combat shotgun instead of an autogun like the rest. The whole fearsome appearance was completed with some freshly cut human ears hanging on his belt, trophies that were still dripping blood.

Not pleasant at all.

While Mokitarr barked orders to his underlings, I surveyed the area and soon identified two prime spots for maximum carnage. After running a few quick simulations inside my head on grenades throwing to ensure accuracy, it was time for action.

Still shrouded, I pulled the safety pins off my grenades, and then counted two seconds before tossing one to each side. As the primed grenades bounced into their respective positions with deadly precision, I dismissed my shroud and dropped my greetings.

‘Hello, Mokitarr.’

My abrupt appearance made all the cultists turn to me in shock. Even the heretic leader himself flinched at the sudden development, but it was too late for them to react.

Going psychically active, I unleashed my power like that misfiring incident at the monastery, but this time done on purpose. My halo blasted out in blinding radiance with a powerful psychic message: REPENT!

And then the grenades exploded.

Chapter 55: V2 CH.18 SCHOLASTICA

Chapter Text

It was ten minutes after the Sororitas battle convoy had embarked from their monastery to the scholastica, and Welminah was swaying to the motion of a Rhino armoured transport as it thundered towards the combat zone.

As a non-combatant, Welminah was given one of the innermost seats, just beside the entrance to the driver’s compartment. Sitting across her was a grim-faced Maylin who they picked up just before leaving.

Moments earlier Maylin had shown up last minute at the staging area, somehow catching wind of the situation. The preacher had quickly kicked up a fuss as she demanded to come along. Dominae had considered leaving the Ministorum representative behind, and the palatine had even quietly consulted with Welminah about the possible repercussions for such an action that bordered on outright insubordination against the Church.

In a decision that Welminah herself was unsure of being pragmatic or sympathetic for Maylin, she advised against it. Silently Welminah suspected it came down to the fact she could not imagine herself being left out of something like this.

So the scholar and the priest eventually shared the same ride together with Dominae and her retinue of Celestian squad. The stern-faced elite sisters paid little heed to the pair of non-combatants, their dull silver power armour and cold optics flickering in the dim interior light, cold metals clicking as they checked and rechecked their many sanctified weapons.

Palatine Dominae was seated furthest away from Welminah, just beside the rear access ramp as per the Sororitas tradition of being the first to step into a battlefield as the leader. Eyes closed and arms crossed, Dominae was motionless while her vox unit buzzed constantly with tactical updates.

Just as Welminah had started to drift off, Dominae’s eyes suddenly snapped open and she started speaking into her vox. Too far away to hear the palatine’s conversation, Welminah’s mind nevertheless started darting around, imagining the worst scenarios.

Is she getting some bad news? Did anything happen to Lady Syrine? No, no, that’s not possible, she’s…a miniature primarch after all! It is not like those damned heretics can be more dangerous than a greater daemon. Dominae looks so serious though, but then again, she always looks serious…

‘Sister Welminah, Preacher Maylin.’ Being suddenly addressed by Dominae jolted Welminah to attention, and what the palatine said next surprised her further.

‘Would any of you like to join a forward strike force? The inquisition is kind enough to divert their gunship for us to deliver a team straight into the scholastica. I am commanding the convoy so I won’t be going. If you are keen…’

‘I am going!’ Maylin raised her hands in response before Dominae finished her words.

Somehow the idea that the preacher was more devoted than herself irritated Welminah. Raising her hand, she responded the only way possible.

‘I am going too!’

The world around me descended into utter mayhem after I dropped my “holy flashbang” grenade attack.

What was intended to be a brief distraction ended up a hell lot more effective than I anticipated. Whether they were wounded by my grenades or not, almost all the cultists in my vicinity were shrieking in agony. I read intense emotions of terror, confusion and regret from their minds, and any semblance of military discipline they had previously displayed had vanished without a trace.

In the midst of the pandemonium Mokitarr screamed and swung at me with his shotgun, using it as an improvised club. Things slowed down as I focused on the cultist captain, he was not incapacitated like the others despite receiving my psychic blast at point blank range, proving himself to be made of sterner stuff.

Still it was clear that he was severely affected as blood was streaming down from his nose and his eyes were closed. I easily avoided his desperate attack, then retaliated by smashing his right arm just below the shoulder pad, something broke with a gruesome snap. Mokitarr let out a muted screech and dropped his massive shotgun.

I reached out before the weapon even hit the floor, grabbed the heretic leader by his throat and almost instantly regretted it. Not only was his skin rough and sweaty to the touch, it came with an odd sensation that felt off.

Eww.

Despite being still in shock, Mokitarr displayed impressive reflexes by immediately pulling out a serrated combat knife with his left hand and slashed out. His movements flowed so seamlessly that I could easily envision them honed through a lifetime of deadly bouts, the sinister-looking weapon was even coated with a thin layer of unknown liquid.Poisoned blade? This guy is a real nasty piece of work.

Unfortunately for the heretic captain, while he was remarkably fast for a human, his opponent was a mini godling and in my view his knife was moving at a snail’s pace. I casually intercepted the attack with a right hand chop onto his wrist, breaking more bones and causing him to let out a muffled scream of pain before dropping the knife.

After losing both weapons Mokitarr finally overcame his temporary blindness and got a good look at me, his eyes widened with disbelief as he uttered, ‘the false saint?’

Huh, so they even have a nickname for me.

While our clash took only a few seconds, a few nearby cultists turned shakily to me with weapons raised.

Too slow.

I quickly lifted Mokitarr up despite his protests, and swung him like a living club to smash the nearest combatants away, probably breaking something else in the process as he fainted after that.

That done, it was time to go and face the second biggest hurdle of my plan - the question of whether my shroud would work while carrying an extra person. While having no idea on the limitations of this ability, I was cautiously optimistic and consigned this to a fifty fifty chance of luck. In gaming terms, it was a roll of 4+ out of a 6 sided dice.

I lifted the motionless Mokitarr and placed him unceremoniously over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then dismissed my halo to activate shadow walk. The odd sensation of something off hit me again and… nothing happened. No shadow walk.

Come on! For the love of -

Half panicking, I looked around and noted the cultists were slowly recovering from their shock. Shroud or not it was time to move. Since I would be running back without shadow walk, my allies needed to be notified incase of friendly fire.

With a flick of my mind, I connected myself to our open channel and spoke into the comms. ‘Sisters! Be advised, I am coming back…’

‘Lady Syrine? Where did you go?’ Alicya cut in, sounding uncharacteristically anxious.

‘Location tracker shows you are somehow in the front,’ Thaberus interrupted with a flabbergasted tone, ‘don’t tell me you just went in and apprehended the leader?’

Location tracker?I was puzzled for a split second before noticing a faint signal emanating from my new earpiece, a built-in feature.

‘Yes, I am returning with a prisoner. Don’t shoot.’ I cut the link and started my journey back. Silently praying my prisoner would survive the short trip, I readied myself for the gauntlet and sent out[Auspex]to check the situation in the long corridor.

What I saw shocked me.

The Sororitas were charging over, heedless of the overwatch fire about to be laid down by the entrenched enemy rear guards. Fortunately most of these guys were still distracted by the unusual commotion behind them and were slow to react, but by now they had finally noticed the sisters and hurriedly started shooting.

Oh no you don’t!

With Mokitarr still over my shoulder I dashed through the corridor, covering a huge distance in two quick leaps and crashing at full speed into a two men heavy weapons team camping at the very end. I landed with a solid kick on an individual who had just fired a few shots of his heavy stubber at the oncoming sisters. The man’s life ended with a sickening crunch and the momentum sent his body over the barricade.

His companion cursed and came at me with a bayonet. In my heightened state I saw the blade coming at a snail’s pace and noted his speed, or the severe lack of it.

You have no chance.

With my free hand I backhanded my attacker’s face before his bayonet travelled half the distance needed to reach me, and an appalling sensation from my hand informed me that more than teeth were sent flying. The impact violently rotated the man’s head well beyond the turning limit of his neck, and he was already dead before hitting the ground.

Sorry not sorry for showing no mercy.

All around me the cultists had started cracking their weapons at the rushing sisters and rounds could be seen bouncing off their power armour. Desperate to stop them from shooting my girls, I looked around before landing my sights on the heavy stubber mounted in front of me.

Just need to aim and pull the trigger, right?

I dropped Mokitarr and quickly picked up the massive gun from its mount. A stubber was similar to a .50 calibre heavy machine gun, and while normally it would be unfeasible for a single person to wield the weapon unmounted, I had my transhuman strength to make it work.

Pointing the weapon at the nearest cultists, I pulled the trigger of a real firearm for the first time in my life. The stubber roared to life as the recoil started kicking into my hands, my shots landed close but did not hit any targets.

My disappointing first salvo however had spooked the cultists, and immediately a few of them turned to point their guns at me. While the odds of me dying to small arms fire was slim to none, the sheer desperation of the moment was catching on to me.

In time dilated slow motion I saw an impending disaster; the sisters were still rushing over as most of the cultists were lining up their shots behind heavy cover, and terrible mental images of Alicya and the sisters being killed due to my inability flashed before my mind.

Pressured, something in me snapped.

Like in a trance I aimed to shoot again, but this time my body automatically adjusted to compensate for the recoil observed earlier. My aim went downwards, I took a proper stance, held a tighter grip, my breathing stopped to reduce movement and - headshot.

The head of a cultist closest to pulling his trigger on me exploded like an abused watermelon, and the splattering of brain matter stunned his nearby comrades.

What the-

Before I realised what just happened my aim had already moved onto the next imminent threats, my finger lightly pressing the trigger each time I felt a lock on my target.

Headshot, headshot and headshot.

I watched in equal parts fascination and horror as the heads of my enemies started exploding one after another, like some after party balloons popping ritual in one of those many annual dinners from a lifetime ago. Gun blazing with hit after hit, I seemed to instinctively know where my bullets would land like it was the surest thing.

Is this how Ballistic Skill 2+ feels like in real life?

An instant later I was shooting my weapon like an action hero from a classic blockbuster movie, firing a ridiculously large gun at full auto but somehow consistently hitting my marks.

The cultists panicked and cowered for their lives but there were little places to hide from my terrifying barrage. The barrel of my gun flashed repeatedly, spent bullet casing rained one after another from my stubber as I rapidly switched between targets, landing most if not all my shots like an aimbot cheater on the hapless heretics.

By the time the sisters and the inquisitor reached me, I had spent almost all the ammunition in my massive gun and single handedly took out the entire rear guards, leaving them dead or dying on the floor.

‘My Lady!’ Alicya was the first to reach, she flipped her helmet visor and hurriedly checked on me, anxiety written plainly over her beautiful face. My hearts were pounding, more for being in a heightened state than physical exertion.

‘I am… fine,’ I forced a half smile, my mind still reeling from what had just happened. For a second I considered reprimanding Alicya for her decision on simply rushing over, but then I recalled how during the great crusade era Astartes of the old legions seemed to have the same habit of disregarding everything else when it came to safety issues concerning their father primarchs.

I… need to consider this tendency of theirs in future events.

Seeing that everyone had their eyes on me, I dropped the heavy stubber which had become warm to the touch and picked up Mokitarr from the ground.

‘I got the heretic captain right here,’ I announced with a tone way calmer than what I was experiencing inside. The inquisitor and the sisters looked at my prisoner and my handy work, stunned for words. From their minds I could tell most of them were quite confused as to what just happened.

‘And you said you don’t know how to use a gun,’ Thaberus finally remarked as he surveyed the freshly created slaughterhouse around us. Looking at the scene of butchery that was of my own creation, I felt a deep chill as the Emperor’s cold words rang in my head again.

You are a weap- No, no, you back the hell off.

I pushed that uneasy notion out of my mind and answered Thaberus. ‘That was the first time in my memory I fired a gun.’ My comment simply earned another subtle “for real?” look from the silent inquisitor.

Feeling a bit sick of excessive real life violence at this point, I turned to Alicya while motioning to the far end, ‘I am leaving the rest of them to you.’

The palatine snapped to attention and gave her command. ‘Sororitas, forward!’ With that the sisters continued pushing forwards to do what they do best.

‘Try leaving one or two alive,’ Thaberus reminded as the sisters moved past. I watched them go and heaved a sigh of relief.

Just as I felt like finally patting my own back for a job well done, a strange sensation came over from my captive. I turned to Mokitarr and found him conscious but shivering with more blood trickling down from his mouth and nose.

Despite looking exceedingly unwell, Mokitarr was staring at me with an inhuman amount of hatred. Even without mind reading, his eyes told me what he was thinking.

You will never get anything from me.

‘Something is wrong.’ I turned to Thaberus who was already on the task. The inquisitor quickly removed the heretic’s helmet and checked on him.

After a brief examination Thaberus dropped his expert opinion. ‘Suicide pill. Probably a unique co*cktail stored in a false tooth and just activated. He will expire soon, there is not much we can do.’

‘So he is already a dead man?’ Feeling let down by the sudden development, I wanted to be sure.

‘Pretty much,’ Thaberus nodded, ‘I suggest you probe his mind as extensively as possible with his remaining time.’ His statement sounded doubly grim as weapons started cracking again in the background.

‘Very well, I will see what we can learn,’ I said while powering up. Again the nearby psychic souls flared up but I ignored them, my focus was on this important task at hand. It would be like the mental interrogation I did with the space marine, but this time with no consideration of the subject’s well-being.

I put the dying heretic captain in a sitting position with his back on a barricade before squatting down to touch his forehead. It felt strange, for a man who was at death’s door, there was a lot more resistance than expected. Intrigued, I observed the flow of my energy through him and soon discovered the reason.

Moving quickly, I took off the metallic Chaos symbol that was hanging around the heretic’s neck and tossed it aside. That emblem was more than just a trinket, it was providing a level of protection from psychic activity. Which made sense, he was assaulting an imperial psyker institution after all. It might be the reason why my shadow walk did not work just now.

I attempted mind reading by touching Mokitarr’s forehead again, and this time there was little resistance.

+Hello again,+ I said directly in the heretic leader’s mind and his eyes widened upon hearing my voice in his head. Mokitarr seemed to understand my intentions and tried to struggle, but by this point the lethal poison had taken its toll and he was too weak to resist.
I looked at him closely, in his eyes my own reflection was staring back, eyes gleaming with golden shine and looking a lot less friendly than usual.

+You brought this upon yourself,+ I informed Mokitarr before tapping into my powers for an aggressive mind dive.

Chapter 56: V2 CH.19 GLIMPSE ON EVIL

Chapter Text

Information burst forth like water from a breached dam as the life of a dying Chaos worshipper flashed before me.

Born in the lower classes and being an immigrant, Mokitarr’s childhood was an unremarkable blur of drudgery. He spent his early youth constantly brawling in the rough neighbourhood and soon discovered he had a knack for fighting. The little supervised boy had no qualms using underhanded techniques to achieve victory.

Suddenly the vision began losing its focus, to compensate I increased my psychic power output. Refocused again, I saw a young Mokitarr joining the army after coming of age. With a talent and taste for fighting, he yearned for more in life and had high hopes.

Unfortunately for the future heretic, despite being a cut above the rest, entrenched hierarchies stifled his ascent. For years Mokitarr watched from the sidelines as privileged sons and daughters of aristocrats hogged most if not all the opportunities and promotions.

It wasn’t fair, not even close.

The experience left Mokitarr with resentment at the deep rooted establishment. For many years he festered his hatred in silence, the after taste of his emotions were red hot and bitter, like a lump of burning charcoal.

The vision suddenly lost its focus again as the heretic captain’s vitality took a nosedive. Alarmed, I steadily increased my power output, straining at what was left of the man’s synapses. But it didn’t go well, my connection to his collapsing mind had become jarring, the sensation was akin to trying to build a card house inside a decrepit manor during an earthquake.

While I could suppress the shaking of the foundation by pumping in more power, the whole place threatened to fall apart at any moment, and there was little time left.

Wait, what am I doing?I was supposed to search for critical information but instead got swept away by the man’s dying thoughts. Gritting my teeth, I increased my output further and started asking questions.

+How did you people get in here and why attack this place?+

Mokitarr struggled a bit before answers started to surface from his mind: They entered via tunnels to capture as many psykers as possible, an objective they had completed.

+What were you doing when we arrived?+

The heretic captain’s thought revealed a chilling plan of overloading the primary plasma generator to obliterate the whole place, leaving little to no evidence.

+Where are you taking the psykers and what are your plans with them?+

A feeling of confusion rose from Mokitarr’s delirious mind, I took it as he genuinely didn’t know.

+Show me your leader.+

The mere mention of this figure seemed to jolt his dying mind, and he resisted again. In response I simply overpowered his resistance with more psychically brute force. At first it felt like his mind was breaking for good, but surprisingly a vision eventually appeared.

Continuing his story, later in his life Mokitarr stumbled onto some forbidden knowledge. As he was secretly researching further into the subject, one night he was approached by an enigmatic figure.

With bated breath I prepared myself to witness this mysterious leader and was unnerved as an imposing person came into focus. It was a man looking of late middle age yet he had an energy level that surpassed any youth. Tall and muscular, he was brimming with unnatural power and had an aura as haunting as a moonless night.

The mysterious man’s hairstyle was a chaotic symphony of curls and waves that seemed to defy all attempts at containment. On his face was a beard as wild as the untamed wilderness, cascading in unruly tangles like the branches of ancient trees. The man’s eyes were pools of shadowed mystery that seemed to hold the secrets of ages past, gleaming with an unsettling intensity. Cloaked in mystic robes that billowed like an impending storm on the horizon, his whole appearance screamed “I am an evil cult leader”.

In the vision the figure started to speak. His voice, a deep resonance from the very depths of the earth, carried with it a hypnotic allure that dripped with honeyed venom. From the vision I could tell spells of persuasion were woven into his words, but they weren’t all deceptions.

The figure spoke of many things, he spoke of the imperial elites hoarding all the wealth and powers, about the hypocrisy and corruption of the Church. The man’s statements would warrant him an instant death sentence by any Imperium standard, and yet he spoke of these like that it was the most natural thing.

After finishing his speech about the ills of the human empire, the man then revealed the coming of a new era where the light of Astronomicon would cease to shine, and the sector would be plunged into chaos. From this chaos a new world would be built, a world liberated from the shackles of the Imperium.

In this new world the man promised freedom and fairness where capable people like Mokitarr would be needed, there would even be opportunities for power and glory that were unattainable for the less privileged within the current stifling, established order.

This guy sure knows how to package himself as a charismatic visionary, his sales pitch was excellent.

As for Mokitarr, from the resonance in his memory I could tell his long held disdain in life tipped the scales, and he easily embraced the heretical path by casting away his oaths to the Throne to march towards a new world, a promised world free from the tyranny of the Throne.

With that everything began to fade and Mokitarr was well and truly on his last legs. I held onto his collapsing synapses and threw in a last question. +What is your leader’s name?+

There was no reply, only another muted confusion.

+What do you call him?+

Another scene appeared, breaking and jittery. I could just barely make up Mokitarr swearing his new allegiance as he knelt before the man. ‘Master.’

I took a long look at the deceased heretic captain. Just a few minutes ago he seemed capable of taking on the whole world, and yet everything was gone from him in the blink of an eye.

Standing up, I let out a long breath before answering. ‘It was horrendous. The heretics entered via tunnels and were capturing psykers for some unknown plan. They also planned to overload the plasma generator to destroy any evidence. Most importantly, I saw their leader. He might be that arch heretic you mentioned.’

Thaberus’ eyes seemed to glint at my answer as he replied, ‘a while ago I was about to inform you that we received rumours that the cults’ supreme leader has recently been active again. This should provide us with some clues to hunt down this bastard.’

While that was the first time I saw the inquisitor being excited at something, my immediate concern was how the sisters were doing as the cracking of weapons could still be heard.

‘How is the fight going?’ I asked.

‘We have them, there is no way out. Let’s finish it quickly.’ Thaberus said and started moving towards the front, leaving me hurrying after him.

While walking towards the gun fight, I witnessed the whole situation. The sisters were laying down disciplined fire at the cultists’ critically exposed back line, every hit resulting in a gruesome death. Bolters and storm bolters barked relentlessly, with the heavy bolter carried by Sister Lysandra being the loudest of all.

Caught between the dug-in security force in the front and with battle sisters on their back, the cultists were being decimated. Shocked, leaderless and being sandwiched by our pincer attack, their raw emotions of fear and desperation were palpable even from my position, just like their victims not so long ago.

Suddenly my mind registered a new vox broadcasting from the enemies, a new voice was speaking with great urgency. ‘Brothers! Let’s take down as many corpse worshippers as we can! Prepare yourself!’

Seemed like someone had taken up the leadership role.As I was thinking that, smoke suddenly blossomed in the corridor, quickly obscuring the whole place. Then that same voice ordered with a tune of finality, ‘with me! For the promised world!’

Under the cover of smoke, an unknown number of combatants stormed out of their hiding places and charged down the corridor, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Startled by the cultists’ desperate attempt, I immediately activated thought acceleration before using[Auspex]to sweep the area, revealing the enemies’ locations. That done, I updated the tactical field overlay in a heartbeat, nullifying the smoke cover. The battle sisters however held their fire despite being updated with the tactical information, and instead simply let the heretics close in.

Just as I was wondering what the sisters were doing, in slow motion two of the Celestian sisters stood up from their cover, a combi-flamer in each of them with their pilot lights burning. It was then I realised the heretics had made a grave mistake - they were charging one of the most renowned flame users of the Imperium.

Time flow resumed just in time for me to witness searing blazes pour forth from the flamers, engulfing the corridor together with the charging cultists. The whole area was immediately filled with the burning scent of promethium.

Incredibly, a few cultists emerged from the inferno covered in fire, flailing and screaming as they continued to stumble forward. Looking unimpressed, the sisters swiftly blew them off with near point blank shots, upping the brutality of this hellish engagement.

Amidst screaming death cries, Thaberus and I joined up with the sisters. This fight was finally wrapping up with the cracking of weapons simmering down. I was relieved to see that none of the sisters sustained any major injuries before turning my attention to the aftermath, and what I saw made me wince.

In front of us, more than a dozen burnt cultists lay dead or dying on the floor. Amongst a corridor of exploded and charred bodies were a handful of individuals who I could not decide to either be very lucky or otherwise. These people were still alive and moaning painfully, half-cooked with hair and cloth burned off, their skin still sizzling with a sick fatty scent.

Further away, the clearing smoke revealed the decimated cultists’ main rank, many of them missing huge portions of their bodies that ended in nauseating gory messes, a very common occurrence from a direct bolter hit.

Bolter rounds and humans never mix well.

As I stood at the edge of the charnel house feeling apprehensive at the carnage, a vox message came through.

‘Thank the Throne. Thorn, is that you with the battle sisters out there?’ It was from Kael to Thaberus.

‘Affirmative. Hold your fire,’ Thaberus said.

‘We are coming out, don’t shoot.’

‘Alright, do it slowly,’ The inquisitor replied before switching his channel to contact all the sisters. ‘Friendlies approaching, hold fire but stay alert.’

Shortly after amongst the fading smoke I saw movement. Forewarned by Thaberus, the sisters held their weapons in check as the scholastica survivors left their defensive position. The crowd was moving cautiously, making sure the cultists along the way were neutralised as they crept towards us.

As the small crowd came into full view, Thaberus walked out to meet them. I was wondering if I should join the inquisitor when Alicya and her Celestians abruptly blocked my path, acting like a barrier between me and the newcomers. For a moment I was about to protest before deciding to allow them their vigilance.

The crowd was a mismatched bunch of people from administrators to security personnel. A late middle aged man who resembled Sir Sean Connery in his sixties was leading in the front, dressed in a dull imperial storm coat with some armour pieces. Like Thaberus, he was armed with a bolt pistol.

My hunch told me this person must be Kael, I could not help but imagine him to be quite handsome during his prime. Behind the bootleg Sean Connery came a plethora of colourful characters. There was a middle aged lady with a noble-looking attire right behind Kael, followed by a few individuals looking like personal aides, then two hooded tech-priests and finally an assortment of armed personnels.

Finally both sides met over a hall full of dead cultists, and for a moment no one spoke, only stares were exchanged. Just as it was starting to get awkward, Kael shattered the silence with a string of hearty laughter.

After having everyone’s attention, the man holstered his weapon, turned to his colleagues and spoke in a booming voice, ‘by the Throne! I bet none of you ever foreseen the day when you would be glad to see an Ordo Hereticus inquisitor visiting unannounced, huh?’

For a second I was surprised by Kael’s bold antics before recalling that he and Thaberus were acquaintances. I peeked at the inquisitor to find that he just seemed slightly amused.

While Kael’s greeting was unorthodox to say the least, his actions relaxed the tense atmosphere considerably. Just as I was assuming Kael was a goofy character by nature he suddenly turned all serious, properly formed the Aquila hand salute and said out loud, ‘all hail our saviour, Thaberus Thorn of the Holy Inquisition!’

Soon most of the people behind him followed his example and formed their Aquila signs. Thaberus nodded and returned the gesture.

‘By His will, we miraculously made it in time,’ the inquisitor said, ‘you lot have this other person to thank though, she contributed the most for your salvation. Before that, is my junior trainee Zaki here with you?’

‘The null boy?’ Kael turned to the lady behind him.

In response she looked to another one of her aides and ordered with a cultured voice, ‘kindly request Agent Z to come forward.’

Soon a familiar little boy appeared from the crowd, walking stiffly at first, unsure of himself. When the boy saw the grim inquisitor, his demeanour changed completely and he started running, calling out with joy. ‘Master Thaberus!’

The little guy stopped right in front of the looming inquisitor before properly bowing.

‘Good to see you, Zaki. I got your acquaintance here who insisted on coming along to see to your well being,’ Thaberus said while looking back. After locating me he gestured for me to come forward. I lightly pushed the somewhat reluctant sisters aside to join him in the front, and immediately my appearance created some confusion.

A young maid?
What is this girl doing here?

I sensed lots of questions from the people we just rescued, my attire was totally out of place within a force of battle sisters with power armour and a battle ready inquisitor after all.

A thing to note was that while pictures of me active during the last great civil war battle were quite widespread, the imperial machinery did a great job on censoring those which featured my face clearly from the public. On that note I was informed by many Ecclesiarchy dignitaries that meeting me in person was a totally different experience from looking at the pictures, and many of them expected me to be taller. So at this point me being unrecognisable by other people despite being the hottest topic in town was understandable.

However none of those questions were valid to Zaki, in the boy’s eyes he saw his only friend visiting. Visibly excited, the boy looked to Thaberus, and after receiving a nod he ran to me.

‘Syrine!’

Alicya and her Celestians flinched at the kid for directly addressing me without honorifics, but I couldn't care less. I had already gone before them to receive the little person.

‘Zaki,’ I greeted the boy before picking him up, secretly enjoying a fleeting moment of false normalcy like the first time we met. After what I went through to get here, this tiny reward was well deserved.

While the rest of the crowd looked on in confusion, Kael seemed to have figured out my identity, as his facial expression switched from neutral to one of utter surprise.

Just then Thaberus spoke again. ‘She is your true saviour for today. Without her contribution, things might have gone down very differently. I present to you the living saint candidate, Lady Syrine.’

After the inquisitor dropped his words immediately the whole place tensed up again. Kael was the first to bow deeply and many others quickly followed his example. Soon, almost the whole crowd was bowing before me.

Looking at the sudden development, Zaki had this dumb-founded look on his childish face. While scenes like this never failed to be equally mortifying and cringe-inducing for me, after playing the part of a saint candidate for two days straight at the monastery I was getting better at handling them.

I even developed a detached view of looking at it: These people weren’t bowing to me, they were paying respect to the powers I inherited and my place as a proxy of their God’s divinity. Nothing personal here, just nod and accept their show of homage.

Special thanks to[Regalis]for always sponsoring my perfect poker face, the real MVP life saver.

From the sisters I could sense both pride and slight annoyance; Pride for my “divinity” being acknowledged, annoyance at the two unmoving Mechanicus tech-priests who failed to show proper respect. As I understood, members of the Mars priesthood had a very different view on the Emperor’s divinity and they weren’t bound by common imperial laws and religious edicts.

‘Please be at ease and rise,’ I said to the crowd and could not help but notice the staggering contrast between the sense of serenity carried by my soothing feminine voice and our immediate surroundings of a hall of messy dead bodies.

As the crowd was straightening back up, from their back came a sudden clamour followed by a sharp burst of psychic resonance. Alarmed, I looked in that direction and saw an incredible sight.

A small orange figure bursting with psychic energy was moving with incredible speed. Right on its tail were four individuals clad in that same sinister-looking black armour I saw earlier.

The four black armoured figures were all armed with a spear-like weapon and even from a distance I could tell that they were not fooling around. Their every stab and jab was fully meant to kill but the little orange figure was too fast for them, always being a step or two ahead.

While Thaberus clicked his tongue at the unexpected event, from the surprised expressions of Kael and his companions I deduced this could be something serious.

‘Go to Thaberus,’ I said to Zaki, gently letting him down with a pat on his back. The boy gave me a quick nod before running to his boss. If this was a trap for either of us, the inquisitor could use a null to increase his odds of survival. Alicya and her Celestians were already forming around me, tensed with weapons raised.

It was then the small figure in the distance finally ditched its pursuers and suddenly headed straight… for me!

Just my luck,a daemonhost assassin?

No time to second guess. With self preservation instincts taking over, my thought acceleration instantly went to overdrive as I entered my psychically active state. Going into a defensive posture, I blasted out my halo at full strength in the faint hope of intimidating it. If we survived this, Thaberus would surely give me an ear full of “I told you so” on exposing myself to risks.

As the divine radiance filled the space between me and the oncoming blur, for the first time I got a good look at the small figure. It was not the expected horrible visage of a daemon-possessed individual, but that of a terrified normal-looking human boy.

The boy wore an orange jumpsuit that was not dissimilar to those of prison standard issue, and he was screaming via telepathy.

+HELP~~!+

His otherworldly plea was heard by none of the sisters surrounding me, and I could tell from their micro movements they were about to discharge their bolters.

Chapter 57: V2 CH.20 RAISING SAVIOUR

Chapter Text

Due to a series of unforeseen circ*mstances, a child psyker was about to be killed right in front of me.

Not if I can help it.

In a split second I decided on my actions.Still experiencing time dilation with my thought acceleration, I labelled the boy as an ally in the field command system; that should mark the boy as a friendly fire hazard sign for all the sisters to see on their helmets’ targeting sight.

I then prepared myself, calling out just as time flowed back to normal from my perspective, infusing power into my words.

‘STOP! DON’T SHOOT!’

Miraculously, the battle sisters managed to stop themselves from pulling their triggers by a hair’s breadth. The boy however flinched at the sight of my halo and the many guns pointing at him, and he slipped with a helpless yelp, falling to the ground.

By sheer momentum the kid skidded a few more feet and ended a small distance away from my position. The four black armoured pursuers however showed no intention of stopping their attack, they moved onto the fallen boy with weapons raised to kill.

Reacting with a swiftness surprising even myself, I leveraged the shoulders of Alicya and another Celestian sister to propel myself over. The sisters gasped in surprise as I passed over them with a quick somersault.

I landed right beside the boy, just in time to parry away two spear strikes that were aimed at him with my bare hands. I felt odd sensations from my brief contact with those black spears.

These are... anti psyker weapons?

Even facing me with my halo up close, these black armoured individuals showed no signs of being intimidated nor were their movements impeded. I could neither sense any emotion nor read their minds, though a quick use of[Analytica]on one of them did yield a result.

Human, augmented, black sentinel.

They must be some sort of special anti-psyker units of the Scholastica Psykana. Luckily, while they seemed to be above human average in speed and strength, they weren’t transhuman nor exceptionally strong. By now the sisters were rushing over and cursing the sentinels for their continuous attack despite my direct intervention.

A third spear strike came, again aimed at the boy. I snatched him away from certain death while parrying the spear away, my mind already tracking a fourth attack coming for me from an odd angle.

In truth I had been restraining myself to avoid injuring anyone. Just as I was contemplating on applying more strength to control the situation, a gunshot sounded with a very precise hit that deflected the final spear away.

‘Cease your insolence! I will kill all of you if you dare to strike at the saint candidate again!’ It was Thaberus, looking furious with a familiar auto-pistol in his hand. The inquisitor had fired a warning shot with the weapon he had offered me not long ago, the bolt pistol would have been overkill.

‘Sentinels, stand down!’ Kael added his voice at the same time to defuse the situation. With that the black sentinels finally stopped their attacks and I was immediately surrounded by sisters of battle with raised weapons.

The semi-relaxed atmosphere carefully cultivated by Kael was completely gone by now, replaced by something high-strung and dead serious. That lady with the noble attire, now revealed to be a psyker with her resonance, was even visibly shaking with fear.
Wait, why fear?

I looked around and found every visible face on the scholastica crowd was one of either utter shock or abject horror.

Why is everyone looking like their life is on the line?

I wondered for a moment before remembering my halo was still blasting in full intimidation mode, bathing the whole area with what must have been a suffocating pressure for normal people.

After mentally facepalming myself, I turned my halo off and spoke up to de-escalate the situation. ‘Sisters, lower your weapons. It was a misunderstanding.’

With that the tension in the air finally subsided and we moved away from the edge of starting another fight. Thaberus came over with an apprehensive-looking Zaki right behind him. The inquisitor took a look at the whimpering boy who was clinging onto me and asked, ‘what was that all about? Is he…?’

‘I sensed no taint in him,’ I said, ‘he risked his life to approach me and was asking for help.’

Kael also tried to approach but stopped when two sisters pointed their bolters at him. He quickly raised his hands and spoke in an apologetic tone. ‘My lady, I am so sorry about what just occurred…’

Thaberus waved him to stop and asked me, ‘do you need a moment?’

I nodded. The inquisitor turned to Kael, taking the man away to ask his own questions.

While they were walking away, Niandra voxed in to reveal she had located the other enemy commander in the mess outside. Currently the assassin was waiting for the Sororitas convoy to arrive before striking her quarry for maximum disruption.

Meanwhile, the rescued boy was still embracing one of my legs with all his might like a drowning person on life saving driftwood.

‘You are safe now, please let go,’ I asked nicely. The boy complied and stood back before staring at me with his puppy-like eyes.

‘So, why were you asking for help?’ I asked.

The boy started whimpering again but at the same time he communicated telepathically. +You… you must be that saint Cassey said everyone was talking about! Help me, I wanna go home!+

From my point of view he was both crying and talking at the same time, the experience was jarring.

I knelt down, pulled him closer while communicating back with his preferred method. +Calm down, what is your name? Tell me what is going on.+ While we conversed via telepathy, to an outsider it would look like I was just comforting a crying boy.

+I am Gideyn, six standard years old. You can read minds, right? Like Cassey you can see memories? Read my mind. You need to see everything, everything!+ The boy said and tried to guide my hand to his forehead, but it would not work without cooperation from my end.

I had no idea who this Cassey was and never met anyone so willing to share their mind, it felt like the boy was just trying to dump his life on me. Somehow I got a bad feeling about this, his sheer eagerness to share was unnerving.

Just what is he trying to show me?

+Calm down, Gideyn. Why do you need me to see your memories?+ I asked.

+They erased it before, but I got them back!+ He exclaimed with streams of tears running down his cheek. +You need to see where my home is to send me back. Will you help?+

While the kid was not making perfect sense, something about his story was sounding scarier by the moment, making me reluctant.

+See it! See it please!+ He insisted.
+Alright, I will take a quick peek.+

I touched the boy’s forehead apprehensively, allowing the process to take place - then I quickly recoiled and severed the connection. Apart from the boy’s mundane life, what I saw briefly cast a new light on this place and sent shivers down my spine.

This place was no school, it never was. The Scholastica Psykana was an institutional madhouse where untrained psykers were gathered to either go through the system, die trying or worse.

Suddenly sensing more eyes on me, I looked up at the far end and saw for the first time a host of minor psykers peeking over. The sorry bunch were being guarded by more black sentinels, some were so skinny their thin necks were showing up like sticks. Metallic collars could clearly be seen on some of them.

I looked down at Gideyn again and for the first time properly noticed just below his orange suit was the same metallic collar around his neck. I touched the device and realised it was a combination of location tracker and vital signs monitor, with an empty slot for explosives.

What about his mentioning of erased memories?

I checked on the boy again and found a tiny lump of anomalous energy on his head, looking like what could only be described as patches of faintly glowing strings from my otherworldly perspective. I studied the anomaly carefully and my instinct told me that this was put in place to disrupt certain functions of his mind.

Looking closer at the “seal”, I found it compromised with a few places subtly breached from the inside out. An understanding came to me: the boy must have overcome it with his power.

Now that I think about it, for a young boy of his age, he should be considered ridiculously powerful to exhibit a level of raw power close to that of a sanctioned battle psyker like Fulton.

Then everything clicked for me.

From what I remembered, the great warp storm Cicatrix Maledictum happening in this period brought forth many grave problems for the Imperium, one of which was the outbreak of new psykers and the sudden increase in power for many existing ones.

Gideyn must have experienced a sudden abnormal power growth that broke his mental seal, which explained how he regained his previously suppressed memories.

From what I saw from his memories, I knew the boy was terrified of this development and what would happen if people found out. His understanding was that psykers were like untamed monsters, which was the reason why they were treated as such. Another event that had shaken him recently was Zaki’s arrival. From Gideyn’s point of view, the null boy was a walking and talking “void person”, one of the most terrifying things he saw in his life.

Ironically, it was only after Gideyn saw me embracing Zaki did he wager everything to come forward. For his childish logic, someone who would befriend a monster surely would not mind helping another, and he just really wanted to go home. As I was contemplating on the influx of information, Gideyn interrupted my thoughts.

+So, can you get me home?+

I met the boy’s expecting gaze, a dozen of scenarios went through my mind but none could fulfil his wish. The only acceptable solution then came to my mind, and it was a disturbing one. I eyed the boy again and found myself unable to look at him directly.

But… this needs to be done.

+So you just want to go back to your parents?+ I asked.

Gideyn nodded eagerly with the fire of hope burning in his eyes.

+Close your eyes. I can bring you home.+

The boy had a puzzled look on his face but did as ordered. Using the same technique I used on Welminah, I used thought acceleration to quickly construct a virtual world with what was seen in his memories. That done, I guided his synapse into the fabricated reality.

He was eager, so the process was easy.

+We have arrived, look around.+

Gideyn gingerly opened his eyes and his jaw dropped upon witnessing his surroundings, it was the living quarter of his old home, the place looking exactly as he remembered.

+This is…?+ Trembling with disbelief, he looked to me for confirmation.

+See over there.+ I pointed to a corner of the living quarter where the boy’s parents were smiling warmly to him.

‘Mum! Dad!’ Gideyn called up and was just about to run over to his folks but stopped himself sharply. He turned to me again and asked for permission, ‘may I go?’

I smiled and nodded, he exploded with pure joy and ran to his parents, being either too excited or young to question everything. As Gideyn embraced his simulated parents, I gently overloaded his mind, putting him to sleep in the dreamscape. The boy slumped over, still hugging both psychic simulacrums.

Exiting the psychic simulation, I found myself holding the smiling but unconscious boy. I picked him up, somehow finding the boy heavier than the heavy stubber gun from earlier.

I am sorry, kid.

Silently I started walking towards Thaberus and Kael with the battle sisters maintaining their protective circle around me. The two men stopped their discussion when they saw me approaching.

‘The primary objective of their attack indeed seems to be capturing as many psykers as possible. The only ones they did not manage to get their hands on are the very young ones and recent arrivals.’ Thaberus informed me before turning his attention to the boy sleeping in my arms.

He asked with a tilt of his head. ‘What happened here?’

I thought for a moment before explaining the situation in layman’s terms. ‘His power had outgrown the mental seal placed on him. He remembered his life before here and wanted to go home…’

‘Regained memories?’ The lady who was standing a few steps behind Kael exclaimed in surprise, earning herself a look from everyone. She gulped at being the sudden centre of attention, bowed and expressed her regret. ‘Deepest apology for my sudden outburst, lords and ladies.’

While the scene was mortifyingly serious on the surface, it was low-key hilarious from my point of view. Here was a regal looking lady who was clearly in charge of a lot of things, her attire screamed nobility, her psyker augmetics at the back of her scalp were tastefully concealed, she dwarfed my boss from my past life in both air of authority and status, wielded significantly more power, yet at the moment she was bowing like a junior subordinate who had committed some fundamental mistakes.

It was however not my style to let people hang high and dry, so I quickly dropped some help. ‘Well met. I believe we haven’t been properly introduced yet, why don’t we start with that?’

Counterfeit Sir Sean Connery went first, he put a fist on his chest and introduced himself. ‘I am Kael Saigonn, inquisitorial overseer recently assigned to this installation. It is an honour.’

Alicya volunteered next, she formed the sign of Aquila smartly before removing her helmet and tucking it under arm. ‘Alicya Sabatith, probationary palatine of the Adepta Sororitas.’

Then it was the lady’s turn, she straightened up as if to regain some composure and did a quick curtsy before introducing herself. ‘I am Dracinah Creed, vice prefector.’

‘Where is the lord prefector?’ Thaberus asked, straight to the point as per his usual style.

‘No idea, we haven’t been able to contact him since the attack began.’ Kael said.

‘I am also unable to sense his presence.’ Dracinah remarked.

‘Is he a psyker?’ I asked, my mind already processing information of the place, trying to locate the man’s office.

‘Yes, Lord Prefector Arkansor specialised in divination with tarot cards.’ Dracinah replied.

‘It is a shame he did not foresee this attack coming.’ Thaberus remarked coldly.

‘That sounds like it.’ Kael said.

Silently I activated[Auspex]and sent a wide range detection wave in the direction of that room. Dracinah was startled upon witnessing my powers, I ignored her reaction. Then the readings came back, my spine chilled upon witnessing the content inside the office.

‘Does Lord Arkansor have a pair of mechanical legs and usually wears a hooded robe?’ I asked.

‘Yes… that sounds like a proper description of his lordship.’ Dracinah answered hesitantly, unsure of where I was going.

‘In that room is a corpse fitting that description, I believe Lord Arkansor is dead,’ I declared after double checking my readings. Dracinah gasped in horror, covering her mouth with a hand while Kael just silently nodded with a solemn expression.

‘Unfortunate, but we still have many issues on hand. Vice Prefector Dracinah, please explain your surprise from earlier.’ Thaberus said, eager to get things moving.

‘Of course.’ Dracinah gave a light bow again before explaining. ‘I am in charge of and have personally inspected the result of every such procedure that was performed here, and I can assure you with the dignity of my family that everything was done with the highest levels of standard and care. So I beg the pardon from you and the revered saint candidate here when I say her statement earlier on the boy being… unfortunately highly unlikely.’

Now that was a really roundabout way of saying I was wrong on the subject matter.

Thaberus being a non-psyker was totally out of depth on the subject and did not comment, but I got the boy right here. I approached Dracinah with the sleeping Gideyn. ‘While your frankness is appreciated, why not just look at him?’

With that Dracinah reluctantly inspected Gideyn and her expression soon changed from stoicness to one of surprise. ‘This… this can’t be…’ she muttered, eyes widened in shock.

As she began to panic, I found myself able to read her mind easily. From the lady vice prefector’s point of view, being proven wrong in front of an inquisitor and a saint candidate right after dropping boastful words was as close as it gets for a career suicide, with the honour of her family tagging along for the ride.

‘This unique situation is no fault of yours,’ I said, trying to give some assurance to Dracinah while receiving a side-eye from Thaberus. I could almost read the inquisitor’s mind:Stop simply helping people all the time!

Ignoring the hint, I asked Dracinah. ‘Can this be fixed?’

‘Well, no. We will have to apply the procedure again…’ The lady started to talk, her concerns were leaking as I caught glimpses of a few similar cases like this that ended badly with complications.

Wait, is the boy fated with a bad ending?

‘Let’s get back to the situation at hand,’ Thaberus diverted the subject and turned to me. ‘You mentioned the heretics arrived via tunnels, any idea where they are?’

I checked on my readings before replying. ‘They should be located at the northern section of this building, lower level three near the laundry area. There are also a few remnant cultists cowering throughout the building. I am updating their positions on the system.’

Thaberus nodded and announced his next course of action. ‘While the captured psykers should be long gone, I am taking the Dominions to check out the tunnels.’

The inquisitor then tapped on his data-slate as he gave orders. ‘Kael, I am sending you the coordinates. Take your people to apprehend the remaining cultists in these locations. Capturing them alive is preferred but not necessary.’

He turned back to me again. ‘The Sororitas convoy should be here soon enough. Don’t do anything rash.’ With that he led the Dominions and went looking for the tunnels while Kael led his armed men the other way, leaving me accompanied by Zaki, Alicya and her Celestians with the scholastica crowd.

More violence was coming, a stark contrast to the boy who was sleeping peacefully in my arms. Looking at him, I suddenly felt responsible over Gideyn. It was already beyond me to rescue him from his life, but I will be damned if I could at least give him a hand.

‘Back to the issue of this boy, rather than risking complications with multiple procedures, is it possible to just repair it?’ I asked Dracinah.

Dracinah was flinching a little as she replied. ‘While theoretically possible, it has never been performed. Such a feat requires a level of intense and precise application of psychic power that is beyond our capability.’ The lady was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the subject, both her expression and surface thoughts were silently begging me to let the issue slide.

‘Mind if I try?’ I persisted, determined to give the kid a better chance.

‘We… will be honoured with your assistance in this matter,’ Dracinah said but I could tell in her mind she had already written off Gideyn for whatever happened next.

I studied the “seal” again, and my gut feeling told me what I was about to attempt was doable. While I had no prior experience at all on this, it was easy for me to guess what an intact seal was supposed to be like. Manipulating my powers, I started repairing the broken seal by gently pushing all the tiny protruding pieces back to their original places. It took some effort, but it didn’t take long before everything was put back into place.

Satisfied with the result, it was time to show it to an expert.

‘Does this look right to you?’ I asked Dracinah, who looked at my work with disbelief before slowly nodding. After receiving confirmation, I reinforced the seal with my power, securing it in place.

‘That should do it, I am entrusting his care to you,’ I said while handing Gideyn to Dracinah. The lady vice prefector hesitated for a second before gingerly receiving the kid.

I looked at the crowd at the far end again and recognised Cassey this time, a skinny girl about the same age as Gideyn, his secret friend in this place. Our eyes met, I read her fear and trepidation as she quickly looked away, a far cry from the mischievous girl shown in the boy’s memory.

I then noticed the two Mechanicus tech-priests seemed to be doing something peculiar, it felt like they were discussing and looking at things unseen even by my psychic senses.Is that…?

[Noospheric Connection] activated-

I opened myself to the network and sure enough, there was an information node here. I logged into the network with my universal administrative credential and started browsing.

It was the database of the scholastica, containing everything from the mundane stuff to the classified. I was still glancing at the massive amount of information when my mind registeredFlameraven’sreturn, this time well aware of the gunship’s vox boosting capability.

By dipping my consciousness into the vox network, I could even eavesdrop into the various communications between imperial forces within its coverage.

I was soon listening to a vox call between Alicya and a Sister Superior Lucia who had arrived with Welminah, Maylin and three squads of Retributors. I was reminded of the pending battle for the outer perimeter. While there was little I could do for the psykers here, I could probably cut down our casualties for the incoming fight.

Save those I can save.

Deciding on my action, I logged off from the noospheric network and noticed the two tech-priests were looking straight at me. Both of them were motionless, still as statues.

Well, don’t mind me.

‘Lady Dracinah,’ I addressed the vice prefector to announce my intention. ‘It was nice meeting you, I am heading to the ground floor.’

After receiving a hasty nod from the lady, I turned to my little friend. ‘Zaki, I got to go.’

‘You are as busy as Master Thaberus,’ Zaki said and posed for a hug, a luxury for him. I obliged the little fella with a light hug and bid him farewell, ‘take care.’

With that done I turned to Alicya. ‘Let’s get back.’

‘As you command,’ the palatine replied reverently.

Turning my back on the scholastica crowd, I started walking. The truth was I simply wanted to leave this suffocating and sorry place as soon as possible.

‘Sisters, I am going to pick up my pace, please keep up.’ I increased my speed, my mind already working with many possible stratagems to be used in the upcoming fight. There were many things I could do to increase our advantage.

I could deploy the Retributors to form a kill zone before imitating Makitarr to issue a hasty order of retreat, luring all the cultists into a death trap.

I could coordinate with Niandra, making sure her target would scream and broadcast that moment to all the cultists as she struck. I could also just simulate Makitarr’s death scream and broadcast it to the cultists’ general vox channel, which would be mighty disruptive.

Or I could do all three.

Imagine hearing the death screams of both your highest ranking commanders as you retreat into a hail of heavy bolter fire with ranks of battle sisters sandwiching from the back.

In fact at this point I was pretty confident about just going in on my own, grabbing a gun and ending all of them personally, Matrix style.

They are just …humans with autoguns, they have no chance.

After conducting a strafing run to clear off some cultists on the scholastica rooftop,Flameravenagain landed with a new strike force.

Stepping off from the gunship, Welminah was reminded of the fact she was no frontliner and almost gagged at the sight and smell of the place. While she could tell Maylin was as uncomfortable as herself when confronted with messy human remains resulting from heavy bolter attacks, the same could not be said of Sister Superior Liana who was the leader of the new forward teams.

So the group went deeper into the building and came across many deceased cultists with bolter wounds. Welminah was relieved to never come across a martyred sister, while Maylin praised the holy work done in the name of righteous retribution.

Halfway through, the group suddenly received a vox from the Holy Daughter herself. ‘Sister Veryan, Welminah, Maylin. Be advised, we are heading towards your position.’

As the battle sisters held their position and weapons in check, Syrine appeared from the gloomy corridor and approached with astonishing speed. Behind her came Palatine Alicya and her Celestians, struggling to keep pace despite having the aid of motion amplifying power armour.

Stopping before the astonished group like she wasn’t dashing at a speed of more than fifty kilometres per hour just a moment ago, Syrine casually said, ‘we are done here, there are other cultists to deal with outside. Let’s go.’

While the Holy Daughter had looked and acted no different than usual, Welminah thought she detected a strange hint of melancholy from her mistress. That notion however was quickly forgotten by the scholar as she realised she would soon witness Syrine personally taking command of a battle for the first time to crush the heretics.

The news of the Chaos cult’s audacious attack would later send shockwaves through the capital city, but what stunned the citizens even more was the remarkable speed with which the large-scale assault was quelled by the authorities.

The decisive counter-strike operation was widely rumoured to be led by none other than the saint candidate herself and the Sororitas suffered not a single casualty that day.

Chapter 58: V2 CH.21 STRANGE NIGHT

Chapter Text

As for Thaberus’ pursuit, as predicted the inquisitor soon ran into literal dead ends and the collapsed tunnels would take time to be cleared. Eventually the place was swarming with hordes of imperial reinforcements. A sea of Magistratum officers supported by more Arbites arrived, then two companies of stormtroopers from the Planetary Defense Force belatedly showed up.

My presence had become more of a hindrance for the people around me to work so I had to leave. Thaberus held a small debriefing session with the sisters of the initial strike team, in which he dropped a strict gag order forbidding anyone from leaking information about my powers, before I returned to the monastery with Maylin, Welminah, Alicya and her retinue via Flameraven .

While on the way back, I observed Maylin switching on her personal communicator after receiving permission from Tahsya. The preacher was soon flooded with enquiries from important people of the Church. Welminah likewise was reporting to Canoness Diadinah. With my superhuman hearing I was picking up their hushed conversations even when it was not my intention to snoop on them.

‘Yes, she took command… it was flawless…’

‘It was miraculous, I will file a report as soon as…’

I forced myself to tune out their conversations and started watching the news channels with a random data-slate that was connected to the information network. There was already much news of the incident with “unconfirmed” reports about my involvement.

Everything I do publicly is headline worthy.

That notion was still quite hard for my mind to grasp even when it happened right before my eyes. After we returned to the monastery I spent some time working on the portrait of the cult leader, faithfully replicating the arch heretic’s visage before passing it to Herlindya. The throne agent was still being swamped with work coordinating various imperial agencies when I passed her the life-like digital portrait. I guessed a lot of people would be working overtime today.

In the evening Canoness Diadinah finally came back with a huge Sororitas force from her heretic purging campaign. After receiving Welminah’s consultation on matters of protocols, I joined the sisters to welcome the returning expeditionary force.

We waited at the bottom of the massive flight of marble stairs that led to the great doors of the fortress monastery. Before long an armada of Sororitas vehicles came into view, a familiar Rhino command tank leading at the forefront. The massive convoy scattered the pilgrims as they passed through the main gate into the monastery compound.

The canoness’ transport stopped right before me, and out stepped Diadinah, Markeylla and a squad of Celestian Sacresants with their signature large shields. It had been a while since I last saw the canoness and the celestian superior, both of them looking good despite having been through what must have been an exhausting campaign.

Our eyes met and Diadinah smiled. She stood still and waited for the hundreds of battle sisters to disembark. When most of the returned sisters had gotten off their ride, Diadinah moved until she was right in front of me.

Without a word the canoness knelt down, prompting the whole expeditionary force to do the same. I could do nothing but to graciously accept their homage. The crowd of pilgrims at the monastery perimeter fence erupted into thunderous cheers as Diadinah’s action had indirectly confirmed my identity. Despite the distance many of them had been camping for days in hope of catching a glimpse of me. It wasn’t all happy reunion and glory though as I noted the many caskets of martyred sisters that returned with the expeditionary force.

I remembered a popular joke in the wargaming circle about a mother walking into a hobby shop with her young son who wished to get into the wargaming hobby of the grim dark universe. After listening to the sales clerk who tried his best to explain the many factions involved, the mother asked the key question, ‘so who are the good guys?’

There were no real good guys here, just various levels of evil and corruption. In most cases the Imperium was as oppressive if not worse than many of the horrors lurking in this unforgiving world. Due to my special condition I was being treated well enough to develop a blind spot for that fact, but witnessing how the psykers were faring at the scholastica knocked some sense back into me.

Back to the wake, being the focus of attention and not knowing what to do, I had been sitting still throughout the whole session, only nodding and gesturing when necessary like a dignified VIP.

Staying totally motionless with this body was easy, transhuman like space marines were famously known for their unmoving honour guards who could stay as still as statues for many hours. I imagined this was quite a feat for a normal human, for if I had a mortal body the eventual creeping muscle cramps would have crippled me.

Throughout the session I also maintained a neutral face and kept my sight forwards despite noticing each and every peek from the crowd that came my way.

Though none had dared to directly make the request, it was on most of the sisters’ minds on their fervent wish to see the Emperor’s light again. Truth be told, by this point I was beginning to feel the exploitative nature of my halo and loathed the notion of spamming it. I was however not about to cheap out on paying a token of respect for the people who had paid the ultimate price for their belief.

The psychic light show cost me nothing after all.

Near the end of the wake session, I silently unleashed my halo at the height of the sisters’ prayer as a final tribute. As the divine golden light filled the praying hall, to everyone’s amazement, a host of astral doves manifested just like last time at the monastery gate.

The flock of angelic birds, pure white in colour and shimmering with a divine glow, gracefully flew a few laps around the edge of my halo before ascending towards the domed ceiling. Just as the birds were about to reach the many portraits of saints painted on the roof, they faded from reality and disappeared without a trace.

The whole short event was both enchantingly beautiful and haunting, almost directly implicating the sisters’ souls departing to a higher realm. Maylin and many of the sisters who were present were moved to tears, while many more were convinced it was a sign of approval from Big-E himself. Whatever the case, the phenomena baffled me, I certainly wasn’t controlling these avian apparitions.

Just what are these astral birds?

Thinking back, these mysterious avians seemed to appear when the crowd around me was in a high emotional state. The question now was could I reproduce the phenomenon on my own?

Unleashing my halo, I started experimenting. First I tried various intensities but no birds appeared. Something was missing, something emotional or intense in nature. Then an idea came to me. I tried again, but this time slowly released my powers, and then distorting it like pinching a running water hose to increase its pressure.

I stretched out a hand while mentally beckoning it. To my surprise, it seemed to understand my wordless request and flew over. As it settled on my hand, I could feel its ethereal weight, light yet substantial enough to be palpable.

I examined the unreal bird on my palm. Despite its intangible nature, the creature which seemingly was made entirely of light exuded a physical presence that was undeniable. Its beady eyes that seemed to hold a depth of understanding beyond mortal comprehension looked around with genuine curiosity.

After a brief scouting with astral projection to confirm that the path was clear, I proceeded to the library. With my superhuman level senses plus the shroud ability, avoiding people was easy-peasy. As for the few security pict-recorders at key locations, I simply set them looping on the empty hallways while passing through their fields of view. This ghosting business felt strangely familiar and natural, like I had done it all my life.

Soon I reached the closed library with its huge ornate doors barring my entry. A slight push on the unmoving door confirmed the place was locked up, and it was not a digital lock which I could easily bypass. Using short range [Auspex] I managed to get a clear three dimensional view on the intricate lock mechanism, then the transcended intelligence residing in me simply took over.

So, I just need to move these parts… Suddenly a well practised motion came out of nowhere as I discharged a miniscule amount of my power that moved the locking mechanism into the open position and unlocked the massive door.

What the… telekinesis?

Now that I think about it, written in one of the many rule books it was mentioned psyker in this universe were mostly using a few main branches of power disciplines.

What were they again?

Biomancy for warp lightning discharge and body strengthening. Divination to look into the future. Pyromancy for creating warp fire. Telekinesis for moving things, and Telepathy for distant communication.

Note to self, I gotta take further lessons from the psykers.

Right before opening the door I felt Solace’s presence due to close proximity. My servo-skull was left in the library in my haste to depart for the mission today. Just to make sure, I remotely accessed Solace’s sensors to confirm the coast was clear within the library. Through its eyes I saw not a single soul in sight and all the cherubs were at their resting stations.

Silently I opened the door and stepped inside, not bothering to switch on the light as my eyes could see just fine. Walking in the darkness like this somehow reminded me of the Night Lords, one of the original bad guy space marine legions infamous for their war crimes. Those notorious bastards liked to stick to the shadows because their homeworld was perpetually dark without a shining sun. I sat down at a spot before awakening my favourite cherub.

< Eta-55, bring me the next ten books on my list. >

<++Complying.++> The cyborg baby stirred and moved to work, flipping its non-functional wings to fetch my books on the list.

As the homunculus delivered my first book, it occurred to me to cover my tracks. < Eta-55, set timer countdown for six standard hours, upon finishing countdown erase all activity log since midnight. >

<++Acknowledged.++> It replied while flying away to get the next book. I started reading in the quiet darkness, the world appeared to me in a tranquil greyness, my transhuman eyesight easily picking up the words from the pages in the dim light.

You might think with superhuman reading one could easily chew through a whole library’s contents, but the truth was depressing. A casual calculation informed me that even if I could read an average of two thousand books a day, it would take three standard years to go through this collection.

Too slow, this was just too slow. I sighed internally while putting down my book. I remembered something about Syrine being designed to be an administrator for a region of the Imperium. Shouldn’t she have a built in ability for mass information assimilation? As I mused, a line of words appeared in my vision.

* * *

Chapter 59: V2 CH.22 SECURITY MEETING

Chapter Text

The serenity of early morning was broken by an extra number of gunships patrolling over the monastery.

A lot of important people had arrived for a meeting called by Thaberus. While the notion of holding a high level meeting about the planet’s security in a Sororitas monastery was kinda weird, my guess was that my presence had shifted the centre of power.

Escorted by Welminah towards the designated meeting room, I was feeling off despite having just bathed and put on a fresh set of white robes. I couldn’t sleep since returning from the library and just got off from a vox call with Thaberus.

The inquisitor sounded happy with my portrait work of the arch-heretic and asked a few questions about it. Unfortunately other than the man’s appearance, the way he sounded, plus the moniker of “Master”, I had little to offer.

On the side note, I was suffering from a light headache. It was noteworthy on its own since this body rarely if ever experienced illness; it appeared to be a consequence of using that power in the library.

I took a look at the grand meeting room and was jolted by the sheer prestige of the gathered crowd. Seated in the centre of the room was Thaberus, and judging by his extra ruggedness the inquisitor had not slept since yesterday. Primaris Psyker Yehai was standing on his left while to his right stood Interrogator Amael, Herlindya’s not-so-secret boyfriend who I had not seen for a while.

Seated beside the governor was Lord General Krueber, an elderly gentleman who was the current supreme commander of the Planetary Defense Force; the man looked to be quite the character with his uptight uniform decorated with rows of medals, and on his hawkish face was a finely groomed but greying imperial moustache.

Amael started his briefing, the holographic images changing as he gave a summary to all the VIPs. Yesterday more than a hundred armed cultists had taken part in the assault of the Scholastica Psykana at about lunch time.

Foul sorceries were attributed to how the Chaos worshippers were able to bypass the scholastica’s many defences that were both physical and psychic in nature, it also explained how they were able to dig their way in undetected.

By estimations it must have taken them days of digging to breach the place and the attack came as a complete surprise. Fortunately security of the facility had just been buffed up recently, but even so they barely held their ground, resulting in a sizable number of untrained psykers being captured, their current whereabouts unknown.

Lord Prefector Arkansor, master of the scholastica, was found dead inside his office with his head crushed. The cause of death was determined to be a powerful psychic attack, resulting in catastrophic cranial trauma. Arkansor’s time of death was pinpointed to be just before the assault began.

‘A logical question, Grand Magister Abenni,’ Amael replied. ‘If you are referring to the brightness of their souls that should be easy for our psykers to pick up, it would appear to be the case on paper.’

At this point I could see some of the attendees perking up on this topic, no doubt having the same question on their minds. Amael’s expression darkened as he continued. ‘Unfortunately there are ways the heretics can overcome this. Beside the method of using psychic dampening material to shield the prisoners, there are other more… unscrupulous and outright heretical methods to achieve the result.’

Now that he mentioned it, I had seen one of those methods in a comic. It involved utilising nulls like Zaki as living anti psychic field generators. Since the null in question just needed to be alive for the purpose, to cut down chances of complications it was not uncommon for the unlucky person to be either heavily drugged or outright comatosed, to be used like a living instrument.

In said comic, a null was comatosed with all limbs cut off before being embedded inside a cargo container with minimal life support to shield an important shipment’s psychic signature.

I suddenly had a horrible notion and wondered if that could be the fate awaiting Zaki if we did not intervene. Contemplating such a possibility made me wince, and my hands involuntarily clenched into fists. Amael did not elaborate further on the terrible subject and started providing numbers for the counter strike operation.

Diadinah responded courteously, ‘thank you, marshal. But I must attribute this incredible feat to both the God-Emperor’s blessing and Lady Syrine’s leadership, she was the one commanding in the front yesterday.’ Her statement turned the whole room’s attention to me, something I wasn’t too pleased about.

Thinking fast, I threw out counter compliments like a fighter jet throwing decoy flares to deflect the heat. ‘I might have contributed my part, this result would not be possible without the exceptional abilities of the battle sisters and the combined effort of other agencies like the Arbites and Magistratum.’

‘These two were the top heretic commanders on site, one chose to end his life by ingesting a lethal poison upon capture, while the other sustained injuries during action and is presently in critical condition. Alarmingly both men had served in the Planetary Defense Force, we are currently looking into their records to determine…’

‘The inquisition welcomes your declaration and will remember your promise, lord general,’ Amael answered politely before continuing. ‘Next, we have one major breakthrough in our efforts against these heretics.’ In the next instance my handy work, the three dimensional portrait of the mysterious arch-heretic, appeared on the holographic projection.

‘From information recently acquired, we believe this individual to be the supreme leader of all the Chaos cults operating in Nusquam,’ Amael dropped the bombshell flatly. The room went quiet and a curious change in the air could be perceived. Time slowed down as my senses tuned up, objects became sharper, colours appeared more vibrant and sounds became clearer.

It took a moment for me to realise my body had undergone a fight or flight response to a potential threat nearby. It was Niandra. While the imperial assassin didn’t move at all, I sensed her subtle readiness to pounce. It took another heartbeat for me to conclude she was not aiming at me but rather she was locking down her attention to all the people in the room.

Meanwhile, Yehai had silently increased her power circulation, the otherworldly throbbing of her psychic might was unmistakable. At the same time Thaberus had gone full sinister Gendo Ikari mode, he even completed the act with the infamous conspiratorial finger-tenting pose.

This is another one of his tests.

Eyes glinting like the inquisition emblem on top of his hat, the inquisitor silently surveyed everyone’s reactions, his gaze scanning for any delicate indicators of betrayals, looking for anyone who might unwittingly be caught off guard and reveal their true allegiance.

The reactions of the crowd was varied, most of the standing advisors were taken aback by the life-like portrait. Khatalina’s brow furrowed, her expression was one of surprise and disgust.

Lord General Krueber and Marshal Gallianor had quite similar reactions, both men remained stoic on the surface while sizing up the cult leader, looking for any perceived weakness and already planning on imaginary attacks.

Grand Magister Abenni’s expression switched from being taken aback to defiance in the blink of an eye. Then there was Magos Balpradus, the tech-priest simply remained motionless.

The tense moment suspended for a while, just as I was assuming it would pass without incident the inquisitor suddenly spoke up with his unnerving voice, spooking the room into attention.

‘Anyone recognises this pitiful excuse for a human?’

After a flurry of silent head shakes, the inquisitor continued. ‘While we have little solid information, our many investigations led us to believe this man had recently become active again after a short period of inactivity since the warp breach incident. We have no doubt this arch-heretic was the individual responsible for the near damnation of Nusquam, the recent Scholastica Psykana attack shows he has not given up on that objective.’

Thaberus paused, letting his words sink in before speaking again. ‘Make no mistake, until this person is exterminated, the very existence of this imperial world is in jeopardy. I would also like to take this opportunity to disclose that all attempts in making contact with the wider Imperium outside the sub-sector have yet to yield any results.’

The room was silent after that and I heard people gulping. After a while it was Khatalina who broke the silence. ‘Aside from hunting these heretics, any update on the whereabouts of those mysterious Astartes on my planet?’

Thaberus shook his head. ‘Nothing. Either they had departed or remained utterly still following the last battle of the civil war. We believe only a very small number of them have been present.’

The meeting continued for another short while before Thaberus left hurriedly, chasing a new lead. The elites stayed and mingled for a little longer, if anything I believed the face to face meeting promoted a closer collaboration between the people at the pinnacle of power. I spoke with a few of them, and Khatalina took the chance to initiate some small talks with me. I had this odd sensation of being a senpai who was approached by an admiring kohai. Eventually everyone departed.

As the last of them was leaving, Magos Balpradus approached and canted in binary bips. <My princess, Dominus Cykell wishes to inform you that the vault excavation is reaching the end phase.>

I responded with a nod. With binary we basically could converse privately in public. The magos continued, <kindly keep your schedule open and expect his summons to the site within the next few standard days. I will inform the other parties involved of this.>

Blam! Blam!

The shots rang out as two auto pistol rounds landed dead centre on the target dummy in a vacated small firing range. For the second time in my life I was handling real firearms. While the sensation of weight and cold steel in my hand was fresh, the act of shooting itself felt natural. After firing the first few rounds and getting used to the recoil, I instinctively know where my shots would land.

With me was Alicya and Welminah, the palatine and the scholar were both wearing protective goggles and earmuffs. Until I stepped into the firing range a moment ago it did not even occur to me hearing protection was a thing, I was spoiled rotten with the convenience of being a transhuman. We barred Maylin from joining to conceal my capabilities, the disgruntled preacher almost pouted openly when she was informed of that decision.

Under the watchful gaze of both girls I fired my pistol down range and consistently landed hit after hit, always dead centre on my targets. Before finishing my first magazine I already felt like a crack shot with the weapon. While happy with the result, I immediately ran into a problem when I wanted to reload.

I turned to my instructor for help. ‘Alicya, how do I …?’

‘Oh, here. You do this to release the magazine…’ Alicya broke from being transfixed by my performance and started demonstrating with an identical weapon while talking about the standard safety procedure of reloading.

‘Thank you,’ I said while carefully releasing and reloading a fresh magazine before aiming to fire again. This time I aimed for the furthest targets on the range and let loose, switching dummies every two shots, practising my double tap.

Again I was consistently hitting all the targets, even the fast moving ones. Being a literal living super calculator with hyper precise body control made this ballistic exercise a walk in the park. I put more rounds down the range and soon realised that as shooting was the easy part for me, I should improve on my speed.

Speeding up, I started shooting rapidly and found no drop in my accuracy. I then worked on my reload speed. First, making sure my weapon was pointed in a safe direction, I ejected the spent magazine with the release button while grabbing a fresh magazine. After sliding the new magazine into my pistol, I racked the slide, felt a round chambered and let loose again with my shootings.

I did the sequence one more time to master the reloading sequence and ejected the last spent magazine with a flick, it just felt faster. When all was done, I had emptied four magazines with a full hit rate.

‘Can we move on to the next gun?’ I turned to ask and found both girls standing still, looking speechless with awe on their faces.

After graduating from pistol, I was finally allowed to handle the venerable bolter. As I put my hands on a genuine bolter, feeling its weight and the cold of its gun metal, a distant geek inside me was awakened.

I was holding a bolter, a real freaking bolter!

This was more than a weapon, this was THE WEAPON, the signature imperial weapon that had become legendary in status and was synonymous with the Space Marines and Sororitas.

The bolter in my hands was of the Godwyn-De’az pattern, decorated with a golden fleur-de-lys near its muzzle, a scaled down version from the ones used by Space Marines for standard human usage. Even so, due to my unfortunate stature this “scaled down” version of bolter still appeared comically massive in my hands.

My subtle giddiness must be showing as Alicya simply stood back and let me have my moment with the gun. As I closely inspected every inch of it, I could tell this was an ancient but excellently maintained piece of heirloom of the Sororitas.

‘Lady Syrine, it humbles me to see you venerate the weapon with such sincerity.’ Welminah said after an unknown amount of time had passed, bringing me back to reality.

‘Well, this is the divine instrument sanctioned by the Emperor to bring His wrath to the enemies of Mankind, right?’ I said in a lame attempt to cover my tracks. Unexpectedly both girls nodded approvingly on that statement, I might have accidentally earned more veneration points from them.

I then listened to Alicya’s quick lecture and observed her demonstration on basic bolter handling before finally got to do what every fan of the universe could only dream of - firing a real bolter.

With everything set, I double checked my pose before gingerly aligned the bolter’s ironsight to a dummy and lightly squeezed the trigger. There was a surge of anticipation, a primal instinct screaming as the mechanism unleashed a potent round with lethal efficiency. With a loud roar a bolt round exited the chamber, accompanied by a jolt of fierce but controlled recoil that reverberated through my entire body.

In that split second between firing and impact, time seems to slow with a rush of adrenaline and a surge of euphoria as the bolt streaks through the air with deadly precision. I felt a sense of triumph as the target dummy was struck and torn asunder by the fury of the Emperor’s wrath in the form of explosive force.

Eager to experience the awesome sensation again I fired two more shoots in quick succession, obliterating two more dummies. I sped up, obliterated three more targets in the next instance before deciding to switch things up a bit.

Changing my pose, I held the massive weapon out with only one hand to test if my physiology could handle the strain of using a bolter like a pistol. A heart beat later two more exploding dummies answered my question, I was still dead accurate firing a bolter with just one hand.

Ah… true grit, my old friend. Wait, can I do it left handed?

I switched the bolter to my supposedly less dominant left hand before firing again, and was rewarded with more splintering dummies. Judging by the result, I could probably go full dakka by shooting two bolters simultaneously like a dual pistol wielding gangster without losing accuracy, I was ambidextrous without realising it.

Speaking of being ambidextrous, it reminded me of the list of skills to pick up for the sake of increasing my survival odds in this world. A quick glance at the full arsenal on display informed me that the gun lessons would not last long at my current pace.

‘Alicya, I would like to expand the scope of my training.’ I said.

‘Of course, what would you like to learn?’ The palatine asked, looking curious.

‘Well, there are the handlings of vehicles, sword fight and… mastery of power armour and jump pack usage.’

Chapter 60: V2 CH.23 ARMOURING UP

Chapter Text

Denied access to observe Syrine's training, Maylin was pouting slightly as she wandered alone in the monastery.

The preacher could not help but feel that either the Sororitas had something against her, or they were hiding something with all their lame excuses. Still, Maylin was extremely grateful for this assignment, thus far it had been nothing but a magnificent blessing.

Just yesterday she was in the front row seat as Syrine commanded the battle sisters to confront the heretic forces at the scholastica, and it was beyond glorious. That scene of the Holy Daughter steadily dropping one order after another to secure a flawless victory was more breathtaking than she could ever have imagined. To further amplify her shock, Maylin later learned that it was the first time Syrine had ever directly taken command of a battlefield.

While still being dazzled by what she saw, later on the same day, during the wake session for the sisters fallen in their campaign, Maylin witnessed the Holy Daughter summoning angelic birds. She had heard about it happening once before at the monastery gate, but never imagined witnessing it with her own eyes so soon.

Seeing the God-Emperor's miracles manifested one after another was an extremely rare privilege in itself, the position also propelled Maylin to a meteoric rise within the Ecclesiastical ranks. The young preacher suddenly found herself frequently interacting with many of the Church's influential figures, higher-ups who had once seemed distant and untouchable were now directly contacting her.

It wasn't far from saying that Maylin was living the dream, more than once the preacher found herself staring into the mirror and wondering if she deserved all this. Everything happened so fast, the whiplash of changed fortune left her feeling stunned.

Determined to make her time productive, Maylin thought for a while before deciding to interview some of the sisters about their experience with the Holy Daughter.

* * *

I blazed through training with all the guns available from the Sororitas armoury.

The comprehensive list includes an auto pistol, a bolter, a bolt pistol, a storm bolter, a condemnor boltgun, a plasma pistol, a meltagun, various combi-bolter variants, a hand flamer, a flamer and a relic inferno pistol. Of these the plasma pistol made the deepest impression as it literally fired miniature suns, it felt extra dangerous and even Alicya was looking more apprehensive when I practised a few shots with it. Still, my focus was on the operating and reloading procedure of the weapons as the shooting part was a no-brainer for me.

There were a few items which I was not encouraged to handle, namely the bigger versions of the famous Sororitas' holy trinity of weaponry: the heavy bolter, heavy flamer and multi-melta. Something to do with the tradition and the long held beliefs that it was beneath a commanding figure to operate heavy weapons.

After some persistence I was allowed to fire a single salvo from a heavy bolter. An ammo box was used since I was without a power armour to use the belt fed backpack. The bigger cousin of the bolter was much heavier and a rush to handle. It barked louder, kicked like a wild stallion, but was still manageable for me.

From my brief experience with the heavy bolter, I saw the reasons why it might be counter productive for a field commander to wield heavy weapons; these massive guns required a lot more attention to properly operate and its user could easily develop tunnel vision, an issue that could lead to dire circ*mstances on a dynamic battlefield.

Soon my ammunition was spent and the firing range was filled with splintered dummies, marking the end of my firearms crash course. It was time to move onto the next item on my to learn list: power armour.

After a short break while Welminah made a quick report of my progress, we proceeded to the primary armoury inside the monastery. The first thing I noticed about the place was the sheer frenzy of sounds. There was a constant clunking and clattering of material resonating throughout the whole space, a ceaseless hum of servomotors and hisses of pneumatic tools punctuating the air, all accompanied by the occasional sharp snap of power tools. The air was thick with the scent of machine oil, metal, ozone, mixed with the subtle tang of sweat.

At one of the walls rows of damaged Sororitas power armour stood at attention, their surfaces marred by the scars of battle, waiting to be repaired and maintained. Alicya moved swiftly, seemingly familiar with the place whereas Welminah fumbled along, like me her eyes were darting all over the place. Soon we reached the centre of this dizzying place where a typical looking tech-priest stood, the figure was hooded in crimson robe with a simple Omnissian axe in one hand.

As Alicya walked over to greet the figure, I activated my noospheric connection to look around. The tech-priest's digital signature was active and displayed a name: Hattie Ortaal.

'Enginseer Hattie.' Alicya greeted casually.

'Probationary palatine. I see you have esteemed guests with you.' The tech-priest responded in a synthetic voice that was definitely female, the only indication of gender since none was given away by her appearance.

'I would like you to meet Lady Syrine, the living saint candidate,' Alicya said excitedly. 'And have you met Sister Welminah before? She currently acts as Lady Syrine's personal assistant.'

'We have spoken a few times at the library,' Hattie exchanged a quick nod with Welminah before turning her optics to me.

'The fabled Holy Daughter, it is an honour. I am Enginseer Hattie Ortaal, overseer of this sanctified forge. May the Omnissiah bless thee.' The enginseer said, forming the sign of cog with her hands while looking at me while her glowing optics.

I smiled and nodded in response. 'Nice to meet you, Hattie.'

‘I apologise for the sudden request, but would it be possible for you to immediately prepare an operational power armour for Lady Syrine?’ Alicya asked, straight to the point.

'At this time when we are most pressed with repair rites from all the damaged wargear of the returned expeditionary forces?' Hattie gestured around us, hinting at the massive workload.

'Lady Syrine's request has priority.' Alicya said confidently.

'Very well, with me.' Hattie nodded and started walking, prompting an ancient-looking servo-skull to fall in behind her like a loyal pet. We followed her into another space that was treated with some sound insulation, muffling the frenzied cacophony of the forge. There were more Sororitas power armour here, but unlike the ones outside these appeared to be in pristine condition.

'I suppose we can start with a size S and tweak to optimise,' Hattie said after throwing me a quick glance, quoting at my less than formidable stature. The tech-priest then walked to a particular row of power armour that was slightly smaller than the rest. She pointed to those and said to me, 'please pick one and we can work from there.'

I looked at my options with complicated feelings. Back on Earth I had a hobby friend who openly declared it was his lifelong dream to put on a functioning power armour, to see and feel what it was like operating such a mythical piece of war gear. Back then his silly remark was backed by many in the hobby circle, like who could resist the notion of armouring up like a space marine?

And here I was, standing on the edge on realising that distant common dream but all my focus landed on an unfortunate detail on the power armours before me - those curvy breastplates tipped with an extra pair of decorative plating in the form of Sororitas fleur-de-lis symbol. I never gave it a second though seeing them on the sisters, in my mind they even looked kinda cool but the very idea of putting those on myself sent revulsion down my spine.

Oh Throne, why why why why…

Fortunately, some of the offered armours came without those embarrassing details. Going through the few acceptable options, I clung to the plainest-looking suit like a life raft in a rough sea and declared decisively, 'I will take this.'

This is not up for debate.

While both girls did not comment, from their thoughts I knew they did wonder about why I went for the most undecorated piece.Just when we were about to proceed further, I sensed some unusual resonance, something was approaching fast. As I turned to face the direction, an instance later two servo-skulls flew into the area.

Reacting to the unusual circ*mstances, Alicya swiftly placed herself between me and the drones, her bolt pistol drawn and ready. Welminah stiffened up, the scholar usually went unarmed inside the monastery so she just stuck closer to me.

One of the servo-skulls then approached Hattie and dropped a binary message. <By the decree of Magos Balpradus Aukank, cease your activity.>

'Relax, Alicya. I recognise these,' I said just as the magos himself walked in uninvited, prompting the palatine to move her aim to the tech-priest. Balpradus looked at the weapon pointing at him blankly and stopped his movement.

Opps, I left it in my room. Solace is kinda like my too-often misplaced handphone at the moment.

'What is this regarding?' Alicya demanded, not relaxing her aim.

'Palatine Alicya,' Balpradus turned to her and replied with his cold, flat synthetic voice. 'You should know as well as I do, everything concerning Lady Syrine is strictly confidential. Enginseer Hattie does not have enough security clearance for this operation.'

Alicya blinked and lowered her weapon. Seeing the battle sister had stood down, Balpradus canted to Hattie. <Enginseer, I will take over from here.>

<With all due respect, magos, this is my place, my forge. By whose authority are you ordering me?> Hattie asked, her dissatisfaction apparent.

<I carry the jurisdiction of Arch Tech-priest Dominus Kryptorer Cykell, you are to do as I say. You may voice your objection to him directly,> Balpradus replied as one of his servo-skulls canted a series of binary codes to Hattie, to which she eventually bowed her head.

The material itself shimmered with a subdued dark metallic blue and on the surface of all the fibres was an intricate web of micro-weave patterns, mimicking the natural striations of muscle tissue. Running along the limbs and torso were delicate lines of circuitry, hinting at the bodyglove's integration with a power armour system.

The armour pieces were mostly constructed from an advanced ceramite composite, famous for being almost impenetrable with small arms fire, the same type of material used on space marine power armour. Their interiors were lined with shock-absorbing paddings, providing further protection to its user. These plates also featured some ingenious interlocking system that was designed to provide maximum flexibility.

Even with my untrained eyes these things looked really expensive. I had a better understanding of the depth of technology and resources needed to construct these gear, and it became apparent why only the really powerful factions in the Imperium could employ power armoured troops.

After changing into the bodyglove, under the supervision of Balpradus I began putting on the armour with the help from Alicya and Welminah. This part of the process reminded me about cosplayers putting on their elaborate costumes, only in this case it was a real functioning piece of wargear.

Piece by piece the armour was affixed on to me and I noticed the expression of both girls brightening up. Alicya was excited to see me donning her Order's colour, whereas Welminah was thinking I made the perfect image of a cute novitiate suiting up for the first time.

Soon the final piece, the power backpack, was put in its place and I felt the full weight of my armour. It was… unexpectedly manageable but my sensation for weight was so skewed from a normal person I had no idea how heavy it would be for a standard human.

There was a slight hum as power was turned on, and as the systems came online I immediately felt the weight pulling on me lessened as the armour started to support itself with the activated fibro-muscle network. Intrigued, I moved and flexed my arms, testing my movement.

'My lady, try walking around. Please be careful,' Alicya advised and I started moving as suggested. At first it felt strange, the activated fibre bundles acted like extra muscles that automatically mimicked my movement while providing momentum and aided strength.

The power armour and its space age materials felt amazing, although not reaching the "second-skin" level described in a lot of space marines stories, it was surprisingly comfortable despite having all the extra layers of stuff added onto me.

I got used to it and was moving naturally in no time. While doing so I caught a glimpse of Alicya's mind as she briefly reminisced on her embarrassing incident of immediately tripping over while using power armour for the first time.

Balpradus who was silently observing all this time spoke up, 'my lady, please try moving your arm as quickly as possible for a stress test.'

'What do I need to do? Throw a punch?' I asked.

'That would do.' Balpradus nodded.

I did as instructed, throwing out a punch and felt my movement strangely impeded. 'Again.' Balpradus instructed. I threw a harder punch, it was faster this time but still definitely slower than if I was unarmoured.

'How did it feel?'

'Restrained. It feels like… the armour was slowing me down.' I answered honestly.

'As I predicted, it could not keep up with you.' Balpradus said with a contemplating gesture.

'What is happening, magos?' Asked Alicya.

'The armour's system is hardwired to human limitations, not meant for a user with my lady's magnificent level of physiology. I can adjust the internal settings to an extent, it will be serviceable but not optimal.' Balpradus said as he extended a mechadendrite, a thick mechanical wire extension that could move like a tentacle, and connected it to a hidden port on my armour.

The tech-priest then spent some time working on a data-slat before saying, 'I had tweaked some settings and just set the encryption level for biometric readout of your armour to the highest level. In addition, I added extra tweaks to mask your twin heart beats.'

The tech-priest's words stunned me and the girls for a second, that was definitely something we had overlooked. He then asked me to throw another punch. I did so and felt a huge difference, both sisters flinching as my armoured fist flew out with inhuman speed, the force amplified by the armoured mass.

'It is not a hundred percent, but a massive improvement,' I said, quite happy with the improvement.

'I am afraid this is as far as it can go, to fully compensate you will need at the very least Astartes grade system,' Balpradus said while nodding sagely to himself before continuing to explain, 'do note from this point onwards this armour is no longer suitable for unaugmented human usage, to do so risks severe user injuries.'

'Why is that?' Welminah asked, her scholarly curiosity intrigued.

Balpradus turned to look at her before answering. 'The motion feedback limiter had been set to minimum, effectively disabled. As a result, under extreme circ*mstances a standard human might experience muscle tear or even bone fracture with improper usage.'

As both girls turned pale on that horrifying notion, Balpradus turned to me and continued his lecture. 'My lady, if possible please refrain from excessive usage, else the armour's system might not hold. At any rate, I highly suggest having a custom set of master crafted power armour tailor made for your specifications.'

'You know anyone capable of doing that?' I asked while flexing my arms, still getting used to the sensation of being encased in a functioning power armour.

Balpradus bowed again. 'I know a few individuals capable of such a feat. With your permission, I will gladly undertake this project and make sure the final result is thrice blessed by the Omnissiah, befitting your status.'

The tech-priest left after receiving my consent to custom build my armour. What followed was crash courses about basic operational procedures and equipment familiarisation. The first thing I needed to do was to get familiar with putting on the armour by myself.

Chapter 61: V2 CH.24 MAIDEN SKYDIVING

Chapter Text

However, upon closer examination of what it took to create the Seraphims, the absurdity of it becomes glaringly apparent. In fact, the very concept of Seraphims teetered on the edge of pure insanity.

The Ecclesiarchy, or the Church, with the blessings of the Imperium, essentially chose the finest examples of ambidextrous individuals from the childbearing gender of our species for this role. The selected girls then underwent special forces-level training from a young age while being constantly indoctrinated with religious faith. Those who survived the brutal process were equipped with power armour and jump packs on their back, and then these girls were launched directly into battle to engage all manners of galactic monstrosities in close-quarters, pistol-range combat.

I found out an edict had just arrived from the Church. For the first time in four hundred years the Order of The Shining Beacon was formally ordered to expand and increase their ranks. That, coupled with my timing of “sudden interest” in martial training and putting on a power armour, had spooked the sisters. Naturally they speculated I had foreseen some serious troubles ahead.

While technically they were correct on that assumption, I was no Aeldari Farseer and had no prescience into the future. It was kind of awkward, after reconfirming with the sisters that I was preparing myself to avoid another weapon fumbling incident, everyone relaxed and the topic of discussion moved to my request for jump pack training. Due to the high risk nature of jump pack usage, while none had said it out loud the sisters were worried about the risks involved.

While that sounded assuring coming from a tech-priest, I had no interest in ever trying that out myself. It also reminded me of an incident during the Horus Heresy where a traitor primarch survived multiple direct hits from Titan weaponry. Compared to that, the force of a relatively high speed collision did look puny in comparison.

The discussion then went to the vault, the Sororitas were somewhat excited since the final countdown to accessing it had begun. Being the typical devotees, the sisters had made a deal with Kryptorer on their rights to lay claim to anything of religious significance.

Welminah even took the chance and asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. ‘My lady, any idea on what we will find inside that vault?’

‘Sorry, there’s no improvement to my missing memory, so I really have no idea,’ I confessed with a shake of my head. ‘We will have to find out what’s inside together.’ Personally though I believed the odds of finding any religious treasures to be extremely low.

The impromptu meeting then ended with most of the visitors leaving. Alicya, Welminah, Sister Markeylla and Magos Balpradus had stayed behind to help with my next training program.

Within the span of a heartbeat, Silvael’s many chronicled tips and tricks on her decades of expert jump pack usage flashed before my mind, prompting me to immediately try them out. I quickly went through a series of standard tricks like back flying, daffy and carving with no difficulties. Wanting a challenge, I decided to just test the limits of my body control by trying one of the hardest known diving moves mentioned in the book, a personalised version of the head down carving.

After rising to the top of the tunnel, I brought my head down and aligned my body vertically. The rush of air intensified with its muffled roar rising inside my helmet as my body became a streamlined missile that cut through the wind. The sensation was indescribable, a mix of sheer thrill and power.

Descending like an aerial predator, I initiated the carve dive with a slight tilt of my head and shoulders. Instantly, I felt the change in air flow, guiding me into a spiralling descent. My body rotated smoothly, and the ground beneath me started to spin, creating an exhilarating panorama where the horizon became a constantly shifting line, always tilting and spinning. I carved down the air column while imitating Sister Silvael’s signature pose shown in her book, with my arms close to my sides, hands flat and my legs slightly apart, toes pointed to top.

Feeling the delicate balance of aerodynamics, I adjusted my posture minutely, every movement precise and deliberate as I steered my dive in a spiralling motion of controlled chaos. It was understood from Silvael’s notes that with jump pack usage and proper practice this move could be performed to create an erratic flight path that was capable of avoiding incoming small arms fire.

‘My lady, was that Sister Silvael’s Spiral of Faith?’ Markeylla asked.