Epilogue: The Silence of Saints
Roxy was later recovered alive — barely. The heretics believed she was a captured missionary — a discarded Sister cast off by the Ecclesiarchy. They never suspected that deep within her, past layers of bruised and trembling muscle, pulsed the one thing that could awaken a Space Marine’s broken armor and turn him into a weapon again. Only two souls breathed in that silent chamber: Sister Roxy, stripped of everything but faith — and Priestess Verena, whose hands trembled despite decades of ritual calm. She didn’t have to. Her journey is one of devotion beyond pride, of suffering beyond honor. The alarms began to scream across the compound. But worse than pain was the silence she had to hold. Verena whispered prayers as she worked — half to comfort Roxy, half to steel herself. Cold. Her legs shaked. But worse than pain was the silence she had to hold. A member of the Adepta Sororitas, Roxy once stood tall in power armor, her voice rising in hymn as bolter fire thundered in righteous fury.
