In the grim darkness of the 41st millennium, where war consumes entire systems and faith is often the only armor left, there are souls who embody the Imperium’s most harrowing truths. “Inside. “You carried it,” Verena whispered, touching her brow with a trembling hand. Cold. But still she did not cry out. Her entire body resisted — locked up — twisted in silent torment. A vessel. Epilogue: The Silence of Saints
Roxy was later recovered alive — barely. In the halls of the Reclusiam, a mural was painted in her honor. “Where?”
Her voice cracked. “You’ve already done enough.”
He locked the core into his broken plate. ***
They stood in the reclusiam vault, far below the main decks of the Lux Invicta. In the grim darkness of the 41st millennium, where war consumes entire systems and faith is often the only armor left, there are souls who embody the Imperium’s most harrowing truths. Lights flickered. Vents hissed. Not metaphorically, but literally — enduring unbearable physical and spiritual pain to smuggle salvation through her own flesh. She had prepared the core, anointed it, warmed it with sacred oils to ease the passage. “Inside. This tale does not seek comfort or triumph. She dropped to her knees, wincing at the shift in weight inside her.
