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The Prassium Series - 14. Sun

By Spammmo

‘It takes time to heal. There is no way to speed it up. I don’t think I’ve finished healing yet.’

‘Looking out across this broken cityscape makes it hard to believe but this world will heal given time. These broken walls and crumbled roads are overgrown by grasses, leaves and trees. The plants will die and their spent stalks will lay across the damaged stone and fertilise this land anew. It’s not something a generation might notice. Not something several generations would feel either, but most don’t live as long as I.’

‘I have wandered these damaged roads for an age. I watched the vines and weeds working their way into cracks and holes. Each grew tall and died as its time came. The land bustles with dense jungle. Unchecked by man, alien or machine: the world thrived. Well, as much as I tell myself I am no machine, many would call me that. Machine. Abomination. Escapee. Daughter. I think all of the names I have been given are in some part true. Each tells of a time when others were afraid of me. When I did things that terrified. That scarred. That broke and killed those I had called friends and enemies alike.’

‘Narro.’

‘Not a common name but not one of significance either. Though, it is mine.’

Narro ran her black metallic hand across a tall tree’s trunk as she wandered the overgrown roadways through the thick forest.

She strode slowly on long legs, below her knee were blades, backwards facing and sleekly designed. They allowed her to navigate uneven ground remarkably well. Each step was agile and poised, she gracefully ambled across a fallen branch and over a dusty river bed. She glanced down into the slow running water and looked into her own lifeless eyes.

‘Blank. Still my visage haunts me. Blank and unmoving. Is this why none tried to help? Why no one would listen? None could think this beauty. None.’

Narro quickly sprang across the remainder of the temporary bridge and broke into a run. She scaled the embankment, knotted with roots and age old stone, and came to rest at its crest. She looked out once more across the lush world.

‘A prisoner. A prisoner on what most would call paradise. Self imprisoned. To make things that much more bittersweet. It is a cruel fate.’

She looked up into the sky and a single midday sun beat down onto her. The dark hooded cloak she wore around her shoulders flapped in the warm wind. Down its back cream coloured stripes ran. Each covered in brownish dirt and purple stains. She held out her arms by her side. Her figure was shaped in the female form, her face that of a beautiful young woman. Though her face never moved. It’s blank black mask without eyes or smile. It was both perfect and horrific.

As she stood motionless, her arm raised up toward the sky, her cloak the only noise as it trailed behind her, small shapes appeared across her body. The dense black metal that covered her appeared to split and revealed dark yellow etchings. Some slowly turned and shrank in size then reappeared brighter. Some shone with a dim amber and became dazzling beacons of golden light. She allowed all of the hundreds of thousands of yellow markings to become bright, then she let her arms down by her sides. Her head sagged and the markings faded. Some went out like light switches. Some slowly dissolved akin to dying fire.

‘If only one day they would let me go. If the sun stopped shining for a year or these stones didn’t yearn for their fill of energy, I could go in peace and leave this world to continue on by itself.’

She pulled the cloak across her once more and picked her way down the embankment toward what looked to be a stone building. She neared the entrance and deftly cut her hand’s edge through a stray vine that hung across the doorway. All across the building the trees and plants had been cut away. Narro had made sure none obscured the outer walls and none would enter her prison’s home.

‘If only one would reach out like you.’

She spoke to the vine she had cut and continued on inside her hovel. She let her cloak free from her shoulders and hung it upon a hook by the door. The metallic door stood open and she took a last glance at the setting sun outside. Narro carefully closed the door and, in a moment, her body’s markings came back. They glowed, dimly illuminating the room. She had no chair, nor bed, as one might expect but a long standing workbench. Upon the scuffed surface lay pieces of metal, wiring and electronics. Most were piled at one end of the bench and Narro stood at its centre holding a small egg-shaped device.

‘I have to wait for you.’

She placed the device back down and walked across the room. The floor was clean and free from the outside vegetation. Upon the wall lay three weapons: a pair of large pistols and a sword. Each pistol was identical and would likely be unwieldable by one of human size and strength. They were sleek, cast in black, and with silver filigree etched across each handle and barrel. Narro picked both up and, as she touched them l, the filigree melted like molten gold into a yellow glow. She placed each on her outer thigh and they stayed in position with some form of internal magnetics. She looked up toward the sword and took it from its roost. With one hand on its blade and one on its hilt she lowered it. It was a long straight blade, it housed no pommel or cross-guard and, with an almost flat ninety degree tip, it seemed like a thin iron bar from a distance. Down the black blade’s length and around the handle the silver etching mirrored the pistols and burned a deep amber as Narro held her sword in front of her. A deft flick of her thumb and the blade retracted into the hilt. The swiftness of it made a whip-crack of metal on metal that echoed in the small room. She placed the blade at the small of her back and it clamped into place without holster or clip.

‘And now for the night. Another day done and another without contact. But soon. Soon.’ She eyed the device on her bench and strode out of the building, locking the metal door.

#

‘Priestess Talia. You wished to speak with me?’

‘Yes Magos Krondax. I wished to ask a favour of sorts.’ Talia asked, nervous yet sure of her self. She was an adept of the Mechanicus and Magos Krondax had notoriety throughout the local Imperial forces for impatience and cruelty.

‘A favour? Within the Lucius Mechanicus and here on my Ark Dimitte we deal in absolutes. Either you ask of me or you do not. Which is it?’ Krondax’s voice hammered at Talia through a mesh grille placed roughly where a mouth might sit on a human face. Though the Magos’ appearance was more a bionic and electronic amalgamation than human. ‘Speak, Priestess.’

Talia took a second to weight her options and calculated, within her own cogitators, a slim chance of success. She continued.

‘Magos, I wish to travel to the surface with your exploratory team. I feel I have a better sense for finding any archeotech we seek there than any adept on your team.’ Talia made sure her tone was level. Most of the Mechanicus adepts spoke through electronic speech units yet Talia still had her natural human form for the most part. Her bionics were housed within her body and her left eye was very obviously augmented, it glowed with a rich yellow light.

‘You feel? Either you are better qualified or you aren’t Priestess. Give me a moment to double check you credentials against my current Archeotech Exploration Team.’ The Magos turned his hulking form to one side and pulled up several data slates with his tangled mess of mechandrites, appendages and metallic tendrils that protruded his red and cream coloured robes.

He perused the information within thousands of data packs, reports and internal files in a few seconds and returned his deep red stare at Talia who stood timidly waiting below him.

‘It seems you are more qualified and have retrieved more Archeotech than any other in this specific system. You will replace Adept Si-88. Report to the Exploration Craft A-XI in two hundred and forty seven minutes.’ The Magos immediately turned away and continued his never ending work.

‘Glory to the Omnissiah.’ Talia bowed her head and walked back to her quarters. She smiled.

#

‘What did he say?’

‘Magos Krondax said I could go. But before you get excited Henrik, we need to ask Narro.’ Talia took a moment and made sure her husband understood.

‘Yes of course. But come on, you must be excited?’ Henrik stood from the table he was eating at and put his hand onto his wife’s waist. ‘Just a little bit?’ He smiled and Talia smirked.

‘Yes.’ She kissed his cheek and then took his hand as she walked by him. They headed down to their small quarter’s bedroom. ‘Of course I am. But I am not going unless she thinks it is fine.’

Talia led Henrik into the family’s bedroom; a little girl sat on the floor. She had a handful of coloured pencils and was drawing on scrap paper with her legs crossed.

‘What are you drawing Sunshine?’ Talia asked her daughter and Narro’s face lit up. She sprang up and ran to her mother.

‘You were gone for so long!’ Narro said and hugged her mother.

‘Yes, sorry little one but I had to see the Magos.’ Talia let Narro go and sat with Henrik on the foot of the bed. ‘We need to ask you a few things. Come. Sit here and listen.’

Talia made space between herself and Henrik. Narro bounded over and dove between them.

‘Your mother has been given the chance to go down to the surface. Down into the old cities and look for treasure. You see the Magos needs your mother’s help because she is just so good at finding treasure that he asked for her especially.’ Henrik spoke and glanced to Talia to continue.

‘Yes, and I said I could help him but I have to ask my best friend first.’ Talia raised her eyebrow and waited to see if Narro understood.

‘Well, I’m your best friend and I think we should all go! I want to see the cities too! I want to see more than this big ship and it’s smelly metal.’ Narro laughed to herself and both Talia and Henrik smiled but knew the next few minutes would be tough for their daughter.

‘You see, we can’t all go.’ Talia started.

‘Yes, we can’t go because your mother has special parts you see.’ Henrik tried to smile and nod.

Talia gestured to her chest’s internal rebreathers and replaced organs. Narro frowned.

‘Yes, I have the special parts that we talked about and it means I can breathe down there. You and your father would get sick and we don’t want that, do we?’ Talia put her hand onto Narro’s back and rubbed it. ‘I want you nice and safe here so I can tell you all about it when I get back.’

‘It’s not fair.’ Narro was frustrated and on a path to tears.

Henrik added his hand onto Talia’s and looked into her eyes.

‘I know Narro. I know.’ Henrik spoke softly and Talia felt his fear of what might happen to her, down in the forgotten cities, through his sorrowful stare.

‘But she has to go.’ Henrik said and slid down off the bed onto his knees so he could look into Narro’s eyes. ‘One day you might be an explorer just like her.’

#

Narro sensed something close. The sound of a broken branch and the rustle of leaves against thick skin. There were more of them. More every year.

She slid through a narrow break in an immense tree’s trunk growing up from a ruined outpost structure. Her stride wasn’t broken by root or stone as she kept pace with the beasts. For too long now she had hunted the great canids that shared her prison. She could sense them. Almost feel their primitive minds deciding which way to flee from her.

One broke from the cover of the shrubbery ahead of Narro. Her arm raised, she let fly a flash of yellow-white energy from her pistol. The charge flowed from her core, out and down her right arm, finding its release at the pistol’s barrel. The slavering dog-thing took the shot through the shoulder, splattering half its head into the greenery. Narro slowed her pace and came up beside the twitching corpse. She magnetised her pistol to her hip and pulled free her square-tipped blade.

‘It seems, one day, your kind will be a match for me.’ Narro spoke aloud. She sliced the wolf-like beast in two. ‘Not this day.’

Purple blood oozed across the dirt trail and steam began to rise from the corpse. Narro pulled back in disgust. She pulsed energy through her sword and the oily ichor cooked off of the blade leaving it a clean, glossy black. Narro sensed the rustling of stones nearby. Likely more of the foul creatures close to what was left of the outer wall. She set off into a sprint, placing her sword onto her back and pulling free both pistols.

‘Onward.’

#

‘Goodbye little one.’ Talia said.

She knew her daughter wouldn't hear her. She could still see Narro and Henrik’s outline at the hangar’s edge as her transport turned and made for the planet below.

‘I’ll be back soon.’ She whispered.

The transport was quiet. Most were when crewed by the adepts of the Mechanicus. Each of the Skitarii aboard stood rigid, likely going over tactical data and info bursts given out by their Marshal. Marshal Gox. He stood at their head and slightly inclined his head at Talia’s glance. She returned the gesture but, in truth, Talia had no care for her team’s security. It was their mission that she cared for. It was those details she ran through in her overclocked mind. She had poured over maps of the planet, pinpointing possible areas that could house archeotech. Adustus it had been named. The planet had once been a supply node to the Adeptus Astartes stationed there in the Great Crusade. Talia’s forgeworld, and home-world, of Lucius had been the supplier of the great war machines of old. This planet had seen field tests and training programs conducted with Lucius demonstrating to the sixth legion their weapons of war. Leman Russ’ wolves had made sure to protect the world from outsiders. It had been struck from record more than once to keep its secrets safe. Beneath its small cityscape and lush forests lay forgotten places. Talia daydreamed. Adustus was likely home to hidden vaults, equipment caches and miles of cargo tunnels.

All of it unexplored.

It might have been her favourite word. From the mere utterance of it within her cogitator implants her human brain ran wild with speculation, imagination and hope. She forgot her family slowly drifting further and further away, she forgot the danger lurking ahead and the small army she would be accompanied by. She thought of the possibilities. Of things that were new. Of progress. She knew it was wrong. The Mechanicus had chastised her too many times for her lust for new knowledge. But it was in her blood. Her curiosity was part of her as much as the lung implants and bone grafts. She couldn’t help it. She had to learn, she had to find, she had to explore.

#

Narro twisted to her left, narrowly avoiding a mouthful of teeth snapping at her torso. She ducked below the beast and ran the drooling, panting dog through with her blade. It kicked itself free then spasmed and died on the stone floor. The gurgling sound of its gasps for breath and the blood caught in its throat disgusted her. Narro spun and let fly three blasts from her pistol, killing a further two canids as they made to leap from the ruined building’s roof. She was ready to give chase when she noticed the sun blink its first rays over the horizon. She heard the beasts scurrying into the deep forest. They wouldn’t be back till dark.

She sat down on the roof’s edge and let her bladed legs dangle. She noticed her tattered cloak had the dried purple blood of the dog-creatures spattered across it and pulled it free from her body. She had worn the rag for so long she hadn’t noticed the build up of stains and grime across it. She held it up and let it go. The wind took the cloak up and it sailed out high above the tree-line below.

Narro felt the sun’s light kiss her black metallic body. The skin broke and the yellow warmth within shone once more. It drank in the energy from the star and she felt its power fill her. She stood and gazed over her prison world.

‘Is this all there is?’ Narro asked herself.

#

Talia strode free from the transport ramp. The landing area had been made safe by three teams of Skitarii rangers. Lucius’ forgeworld colours of red and cream surrounded her. She struggled to see through the gaps in the Skitarii ranks as she tried to peer into the thick forest that had overgrown the ruined city on Adustus. She lit her dataslate. Talia had ensured her exploration power pack was installed on the journey to Adustus by the servitors that were now exiting the transport craft beside her. The thin single servo arm protruded from the pack’s top and held her dataslate comfortably in front of her. It always felt like a third arm to her, as able and dexterous as her own human hand. She used the dataslate to scan the surrounding area.

‘Priestess Talia.’ A low thudding voice boomed. ‘Do not waste your computations on plotting a course. You will follow me, as Magos Krondax intended it to be.’

Talia turned to see the exploratory team’s leader thump down the transport craft’s exit ramp. Archeotech expert and self-proclaimed ‘Hunter of Relics’, Technoarcheologist Darnes II. Talia detested him. She had sent him a salute as she entered the transport craft via the shared internal communications noosphere and promptly ignored him the entire trip thereafter. She barley nodded at his order now. Talia turned back to her dataslate, quickly pulled up the scanning program in progress and filed it deep within her cogitator's subroutines. Talia placed her dataslate back within her power pack and allowed Darnes to stride ahead of her.

‘Skitarii form on me. We head east-south-east.’ Darnes proclaimed.

Talia eyed Marshal Gox, leader of the Skitarii. The towering Marshal was formidable to behold, his rich red robes covered blackened Lucian-metal armour plating and master-grade bionics. Gox gripped his control stave that little bit harder at Darnes’ order to his soldiers. Talia smiled and followed in behind the Marshal. A score of servitors strode behind the Skitarii vanguard carrying various equipment for drilling, digging and cutting anything and everything protecting the treasures the exploratory team craved.

‘Talia.’ Boomed Darnes. ‘We head for the last known training grounds of the sixth legion here on Adustus. See to it that all Skitarii have updated layout schematics.’

‘Yes, Darnes.’ Talia responded.

The job was one for a data servitor. It was far beneath her but she did as she was asked. It was not the time to test Darnes’ leadership.

The Mechanicus exploration team marched on through the city ruins. A few hours passed without much more to see than wild forest. The sun shone bright above, yet it was only seen in flickers through the canopy. The forest had began to creep through broken stone and cover doorways and windows with branches and leaves. Talia noticed scorch marks across walls and metal floors. Signs of weapons fire.

‘We must be close to the testing grounds.’ Talia posted in binaric to the local communication noosphere.

‘Marshal Gox. See to it you soldiers do not contaminate any potential artefacts as we proceed.’ Darnes ordered.

‘Of course. Though, the dense shrubbery may be difficult to leave untouched if we wish to pass through.’ Gox countered.

‘You will follow my orders, Marshal.’ Darnes commanded without looking to Gox for a moment.

‘Yes, Lord.’ Gox dipped his head and moved on to lead his Skitarii Ranger team in establishing a perimeter.

The Marshal gritted his steel teeth as he went.

#

Narro wandered aimlessly over a metallic floor, her thin spiked legs made a tapping sound that echoed against the nearby walls. She ran her hand across the age-old scorch marks that covered the stone.

‘How will I know when it is time?’ Narro voiced.

She moved her blackened hand across the wall and onto the vines and branches covering the doorway. She pulled them free and stepped inside the broken building. Her body shone and the room lit a dull amber. She had to stoop down to fit inside and she picked her way across the room toward a tall stack of databanks. Of the twelve screens covering the vast wall of switches and electronics, only one was intact. Narro saw the blank features of her face reflected in the dead screen. She made a fist to break the glass in frustration.

Yet she paused.

At the screen’s lower right corner a faint red circle blinked.

Narro forced herself to blink herself, then realised she possessed no eyes.

‘It cannot be..’ Narro whispered.

She burst into a sprint. Her body moved with the speed and precision of a hunting feline, her lithe form slipped between branch and stone until she reached her prison’s home.

‘Is today the day?’ She thought.

She flung open the metallic door and took the small egg-shaped device sitting atop the workbench, as if patiently waiting for her. At once she spun and darted across the handful of kilometres back to the scorched room. All sense of time fell away as she leaped over broken fences and boulders. She pulled free her sword, flicking her thumb to extend the blade out, then sliced a thick tangle of vines ahead of her. She burst through and found purchase on a weighted tree branch overhanging an age old roadway. She kept going. Her mind raced as her legs raced beneath her.

‘Am I ready?’ The thought shot into her mind and it took her by surprise.

She tripped.

After a loose rock broke under her weight, she fell and landed hard against the root-covered roadway. The device spilled from her fingertips and met with the ruined city’s stonework ground. The sound seemed louder than any Narro had ever heard. The metallic device seemed to ring for a long time time at the impact. Narro pleaded internally to any higher being that was listening, to grant her fortune in that moment. She slowly rose from the ground, brushing free the dust and dirt from her chest and arms. She shook her head slowly as she walked to the device lay on the ground. She made to hold her breath but realised she had no breath to hold. She picked up the device and inspected it. A dent lay across the curved metallic cover holding the three internal circuit boards together. As she turned the small egg-shaped object over in her hands, peering at each component in turn, she raged at her overeagerness. It seemed like superficial damage. Though there was no way to know without activating it. She set off at a careful yet blistering pace. Narro realised after dropping the device that she wanted it to work more than anything in her life.

‘I am ready.’

#

‘The honoured Astartes of Leman Russ once roamed these paths.’ Darnes spoke aloud. He inspected a broken metal door handle through the eight lenses within his pale green bionic eye. ‘It is off-record what happened here to make them abandon this place.’

‘That was thousands of years ago.’ Talia countered and immediately chided herself. She knew that to acknowledge Darnes’ constant talk was to invite much more of it.

‘Of course child, yes.’ Darnes replied and started to head toward Talia. ‘But knowing why they left could give us an inkling into where to begin our search.’

Talia didn’t even reply. She watched the Skitarii patrolling the building’s perimeter. Two of them were inspecting a small creature no taller than the soldiers’ knees. It seemed like some form of canid and the two Skitarii shooed the creature back into the brush with the butts of their galvanic rifles. Talia wandered across the outer wall and stopped. She stooped down and was inspecting what seemed to be a vent pipe sitting close by the wall when Darnes noticed her sudden change in attention. He began to follow loosely behind her. The pipe stuck out from the ground and bent up into a long curve with the open end pointing outward. She ran her hand across it and tapped it lightly with her palm.

‘I think..’ Talia began.

‘A ventilation exhaust. This can only mean an underground network must be close by.’ Darnes interrupted. ‘Gox.’

Gox fell into speaking distance swiftly.

‘Have your rangers find the entrance way. I have found this ventilation pipe that must lead to underground rooms and facilities.’ Darnes ordered.

Gox nodded and relayed the information to his warriors in a blurt of binary. Talia shook her head as Darnes walked away. She let her anger dissipate at her discovery being co-opted.

They had something to explore.

#

Narro burst into the scorched room. She knelt in front of the screen and made sure the red light still blinked.

It did.

She still couldn’t believe it.

‘Am I doing this?’ She asked herself.

She pulled free the metallic covering around the screen and gently began taking the casing and cabling apart so as to get closer to the screen’s internal electronics. She found the mass of cables connected to the thin display screen. She followed them. Down into the floor. She stripped back the metal plates then broke free the stones the cables passed under. The cables ended at a small junction box at the edge of the room. She opened it and saw that below the metal cover sat a battery.

She almost wept.

All she needed was a small power source and her device could function. After many failed attempts at channelling her own internal power, frying carefully crafted circuit boards from the rare components she found across the ruined city, she had deduced she needed another power source. A year of creating a generator resulted in nothing but wasted materials and time. She had no knowledge to draw from. She knew nothing more of electronics than basic circuit theory. The device wasn’t made by her. She had found it deep within a ravine. It was inside a tattered emergency satchel bag with a used flare and medical kit. As for the human skeleton beside it, it looked to be extremely old.

Narro held the device in one hand and carefully pulled free the battery from the junction box. She twisted some spare cabling around the positive and negative poles and gingerly attached them to the device’s marked input pins. The device made no sound and showed no signs of life. She thumbed an activation switch and tried to close her eyes, though she could not.

A faint humming.

Then a click.

A green light.

Narro could cry and scream all at once. But she remembered the battery could only have a moment of charge. She twisted the emergency release dial, as per the instructions she had read everyday for the past half century printed on the inner casing of the device. She hoped. A single beep broke the five seconds of silence and the light turned red. Narro re-read the instructions she already knew by memory, hoping she had missed something. There was nothing more written after the twist of the dial.

‘What is red? What does that mean?!’ Narro screamed.

She was infuriated. Did it work? There was no way to tell. The light could mean failure or the damned thing could be completely broken. She thought on her carelessness at dropping the device in her rush and chided herself. She screamed out in anger. Narro hammered her fist in the stone wall leaving broken rubble to fall to the ground. She shook her head and wished she could take a long deep breath.

She gathered up some of the intact cabling, small components and the screen into a ragged tarpaulin sheet strewn in the corner of the room. She hoisted the load over her shoulder and onto her back and set out of the scorched room. She paced toward her shelter holding the emergency device in her hand.

It was still red.

#

‘Hold on Gox.’ Talia asked. ‘There.’

She pointed to a data spike above the doorway. The doorway had been slowly unearthed from the ground with the help of the digging servitors. It seemed sealed with large-scale vault doors. Darnes had ordered the breaching servitors to shear through the door with an arc-torch but nothing scratched the door’s surface. Talia, and the whole team, knew that meant something.

‘I shall interface with the door’s system.’ Darnes proclaimed and made his way down the muddy tunnel dug out by the servitors.

‘Darnes, let me try.’ Talia asked.

‘No, priestess. You mustn’t…’ Darnes began.

Talia didn’t hesitate. She let her servo arm rotate its claw into the data tether housed within it. She plugged into the doorway’s data spike and felt a rush of binary.

It was like a howling wind forcing her out. It rushed to meet her and forcibly pushed her probing mind back. She held firm. The gale never let up as she positioned her mind to view the security system’s origin. A hard torrent of code lashed and pushed back against her scrutiny but she managed to gleam the sixth legion’s markings. Those of forgeworld Lucius too. She pushed further. As if walking into a tornado, she created a mesh of code around her as she intruded further. The mesh allowed the small jibes and unfriendly binary to pass by her, but the core program was caught just long enough for her to read, copy and store in her memory. The wind picked up. It lashed across her woven net, breaking the seams and spilling its contents. The gale forced Talia out with a surge of power.

She pulled free the tether and dropped to a knee. Gox helped her up and rested his arm across her shoulders.

‘Are you all right, Talia?’ Gox asked reassuringly.

‘Never mind that! Do not disobey! What did you learn?’ Darnes blurted and rushed forward with his arm outstretched, ready to grip Talia’s face.

Gox grabbed Darnes’ wrist and yanked his arm down. The metal bent under the stress and a couple of inner wires frayed at Darnes’ mechanical shoulder joint. Darnes furrowed what brow his metallic face had left and cocked his head toward Gox. Gox made no attempt to avert his gaze and stared down the Technoarcheologist.

He tightened his grip.

Though Darnes technically outranked Gox on this mission, Gox was in the field in unknown lands. This put him on edge. It was no time to be pulling rank and Darnes knew it. Gox had decades more experience than Darnes and his martial prowess was leagues ahead. Darnes took a step back and Gox let his crumpled arm go.

‘Excuse me, Priestess. Gather yourself and then please, let us know what you learnt.’ Darnes said in as much of an apologetic tone as his metallic grille-mouth would allow.

Talia thought for a moment whilst dusting off the mud from her cream coloured field trousers. She might have an idea.

‘It is sixth legion. Space Wolves. But it bears signifiers of Lucius too.’ Talia addressed the nearby servitors, Skitarii, Gox and Darnes. ‘We, as children of Lucius, should be able to open the doorway if we use high authority signifiers. Magos Krondax’s signifiers.’

Darnes took this information in. His mind ran dozens of scenarios and he responded with his results:

‘The Magos will not come here, Talia.’ Darnes spoke as if he knew this as fact. ‘What you’re suggesting shows your absolute inexperience as a Technoarcheologist.’

Talia glared at Darnes. Gox gritted his metal teeth.

‘Of course you aren’t one. And well, I am.’ Darnes said dismissively. ‘Allow me to access the data spike. Move aside.’

‘It’s a vault.’ Talia said quickly.

‘Of course it is child, now move aside.’ Darnes ordered. He pulled free his archeotech pistol. It was a casual movement and Talia did not notice. Gox did. The Marshal let his hand wander to his own radium serpenta holstered at his hip.

‘It is a vault. Free from any foundation here. A solid metal container no bigger than a single room. Buried. We can excavate the whole thing and take it up to the Magos.’ Talia explained. ‘Interface with that door again and I assure you, it will not open for anyone ever again.’

Darnes eyed the young Priestess. Gox waited for Darnes to make a move. Talia did not move, nor blink her eye.

‘Very well.’ Darnes said after a long, tense pause. ‘Gox, supervise the digging crew while Talia tends to the lifter crew bringing their equipment here from the transport.’

With that Darnes turned and briskly walked out from the tunnel without a word. Talia raised her eyebrow to Gox and he shook his head and blurted a hushed binaric of disbelief. Talia couldn’t help but laugh.

#

A few days passed and Narro noticed no change in the device. She plugged in the battery every few hours and the red light blinked on. The dial and activation rune did nothing when pressed. It was as if the device was stuck.

‘It has to be broken.’ Narro said to herself.

She stood beside her workbench and was going through the other electronics she had taken from the scorched room.

‘There is no way to know if it worked.’ Narro thought. ‘Well, except that.’

She walked outside. It was growing dark and the sun was close to the horizon. She looked up to the stars just beginning to shine through the dusk. She sat down on a ledge and rested her back against the side of her hovel. A few stars blinked and she watched some shine brighter than others. She felt a yearning to be out there. So much time had passed and yet nothing had changed. She believed after the first few years that she had died. That her purgatory was here on this planet, and she was cursed to be here alone for eternity. Now she didn’t know what to think. Maybe she could leave. Maybe the device would work and her emergency signal would be received by someone. She wouldn’t know until it happened. Narro picked herself up and took down her pistols once more from the inner wall.

There was no use sitting around when the wolves still roamed her planet.

#

‘In eight-hundred minutes to be precise, Lord..’ Darnes spoke in his most elegant tongue. ‘…very well Magos. Praise be the Omnissiah.’

Talia watched Darnes finish his private long range signal communique with Magos Krondax, who was stationed far ahead aboard the Dimitte, then turned her attention back to more pressing matters.

The vault.

The transport ship’s cargo hold had been cleared of all equipment to make space for the excavated vault. It was only ten paces square and the height of Marshal Gox. The readings Talia’s scans gave of the materials housed within were the real mystery. It seemed something unrecognisable, by Mechanicus labels, lay inside. An element or compound of sorts unknown. This is what had Talia intrigued. Marshal Gox paced around the cargo bay’s walls with a handful of Skitarii on high alert. Anything could be inside and Gox was not about to allow it any chance of jeopardising the exploratory team’s mission. Darnes continued hailing the Ark Dimitte’s hangar crew and setting up meetings and viewings of the vault with the highest ranking Adepts he could muster.

‘Does he care what’s inside?’ Talia asked Gox as he patrolled, nodding toward where Darnes stood mid conversation.

‘I don’t believe so.’ Gox replied.

‘He is more bothered what this find does for his status. Of what Magos Krondax might gift him in return.’ Talia surmised.

‘I agree. Yet there is nothing you can do Talia. You have done your part.’ Gox spoke and turned to continue patrolling.

‘It’s just not right.’ Talia shook her head and couldn’t shake the feeling she was going to do something reckless in the near future.

#

Narro hadn’t felt this feeling in a long while. She was being chased. She wasn’t scared, yet she wasn’t in control.

The canids seemed to have gathered together. A group of four she put down had lead her to another six. Yet after meeting them head on in a clearing of broken branches and toppled wall rocks, a half dozen more boxed her in from behind. They didn’t run. She had sliced her way out, made it to the easier trails she knew she could run on and now sprinted at full speed. They kept up. She had counted ten but it sounded as if more had joined the hunt. The hunt for her.

Narro slid under a fallen tree trunk and leapt up to her feet. It was a second lost. She heard the panting and teeth chattering only a few paces behind her. She spun and let free two blasts from her pistols, tagging the lead wolf in the shoulder. It barrelled on.

‘Damn wolves.’ Narro muttered.

She ducked past a steel column and broke right, into an open doorway. The close confines did her no favours as she collided with the low ceiling. She turned and held her pistols up. She took three steps back and felt the press of flat stone against her back. A dead end.

The first canid burst in after her and she put it down with a single shot. The next barged past the first corpse and met with Narro’s second pistol blast. A third wolf peeked inside and Narro shot off a blast at the entranceway, the creature pulled back and held its ground. She could hear the creatures patrolling outside the doorway, the low guttural growls undermined Narro’s confidence. She felt fear for the first time in years.

The beasts paced and waited. It was unlikely they would leave till the sun rose, yet Narro didn’t know for sure. They had gotten the best of her. Maybe it was the device finally having being sent that was clouding her judgement but it seemed she had been played. She saw one creature lay its paw against the dead wolf at the doorway. The beast seemed to whimper. It stroked its paw across the fallen creature’s back. It almost seemed it was mourning the loss of its kin.

‘Stay sharp.’ Narro reminded herself.

She fired a warning blast and burst the dead beast into chunks of warm flesh.

The suddenness of the overkill sent the mourning wolf into a frenzy. It burst into the room and Narro blasted the creature with two shots into the beast’s ribs. The red gaping holes did nothing to slow the wolf and it came on into the room at full speed. It howled and barked as it tore across the stone floor.

Narro dropped her pistol and pulled free her blade, thumbing the activation rune as she lifted the sword up to meet the crazed creature.

She was too slow.

#

'Magos Krondax!' Darnes greeted. 'We are blessed by your presence.'

Darnes bowed and made the sign of the cog while sending flattering binaric toward his leader. Talia rolled her one eye. She watched as the Magos was led from the end of the corridor toward the vault.

‘My Lord,’ Darnes continued, his voice oily with reverence, ‘it is a rare honour to have you here. I ensured the vault’s transport to the Ark Dimitte personally and saw to it that no unworthy eyes have glimpsed its secrets.’

Krondax did not respond, his augmented gaze fixed on the vault ahead. His metallic limbs moved with a precision that spoke of countless years of refinement. He paid Darnes’ sycophantic gestures no heed, his focus singular as they approached the cargo bay. The massive doors to the vault slid open with a hiss, revealing the cold, darkened chamber within. The outer walls of the vault were lined with esoteric markings, runes that had long been lost to time. Krondax’s mechadendrites extended, scanning the inscriptions with unblinking lenses. His voice, a cold, metallic whisper, finally broke the silence.

‘The machine spirits speak of old worlds,’ Krondax intoned, his voice vibrating with layered frequencies. ‘There is power here, Darnes, power that predates even our most ancient repositories of knowledge.’

Darnes swelled with pride, though he did nothing to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘Indeed, Magos. It was my team that discovered this relic, deep beneath the surface. I personally ensured its preservation for your inspection.’

Krondax said nothing, his mechadendrites already interfacing with the vault’s central data mechanism. Talia watched from the shadows, her unease growing with each passing moment. The Magos’s presence seemed to draw the very air from the room, leaving only the cold, sterile scent of machinery and oil. With a sharp click, the ancient mechanism yielded to Krondax’s touch. Talia had been right. The vault responded to one of a high rank within Lucius Forgeworld. The vault began to hum, a low, resonant frequency that vibrated through the walls and into the bones of those present. Talia’s unease deepened, her instincts telling her something was terribly wrong. She could see it in Gox’s tense posture, in the way the Skitarii gripped their weapons a little tighter.

The vault’s door shuddered open, revealing a darkened chamber within. At its centre lay a casket, surrounded by strange devices that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly light. The technology within was ancient, far beyond anything even the Mechanicus had catalogued. The casket itself was made of a material that seemed to absorb the light around it, a darkness so deep it seemed to consume all hope of illumination.

Krondax’s lenses whirred and adjusted as he scanned the casket. ‘It is a sarcophagus,’ he murmured, almost to himself. ‘A relic from a time before… perhaps even a weapon.’

Darnes, eager to seize the moment, stepped forward. ‘A most remarkable find, Magos. Imagine what we could learn from this. The power it could—’

But his words were cut off as Krondax raised a hand, silencing him. The Magos’s attention was wholly on the casket. He reached out with a mechadendrite, interfacing with the controls at its base. The room fell silent as everyone held their breath. With a soft hiss, the casket’s lid began to slide open. Inside, there was nothing. An empty void where something—or someone—had once lain. The devices surrounding it flickered, their ancient circuits struggling to maintain power. Whatever had been inside the casket was long gone.

Krondax’s lenses narrowed, and his voice took on a darker tone. ‘This is not what it seems. The presence of such technology, and yet… an empty vessel. It is a harbinger.’

Without another word, Krondax sent a flurry of binaric commands through the room. The Skitarii snapped to attention, moving with mechanical precision to encircle the vault. The Magos had made his decision.

‘This area is now restricted. No one is to enter without my express authorization. Marshal Gox, you will oversee the perimeter security until further notice.’

Talia was walked out by the Skitarii and watched as the room was swiftly cordoned off. The door was closed and the small window upon it was blocked by Marshal Gox’s blank face. It became a sealed tomb, its secrets buried once more within the bowels of the Ark Dimitte.

#

Henrik moved swiftly through the narrow corridors of the ship, his brow furrowed with concern. He had been searching for Narro for nearly an hour, and there was still no sign of her. The child had a knack for vanishing, slipping away like a shadow whenever it suited her. Henrik knew where she was most likely to be, but the thought did little to ease his worry. He paused at an intersection, glancing down the length of the maintenance corridor. The low hum of the Ark Dimitte’s engines filled the silence, a constant reminder of the vessel’s endless journey through the void. Narro had always been drawn to the deeper parts of the ship, places where the crew rarely ventured. Henrik had found her more than once clambering through the ventilation shafts, her small form barely visible as she squeezed through tight spaces meant for repairs, not for wandering children.

She was always listening, always watching. Henrik had seen the way her eyes would light up when she overheard something of interest, her curiosity insatiable. He sighed, knowing full well that no matter how often he told her to stay in the safer areas, Narro would always find her way back to the shadows, back to those hidden passages that criss-crossed the ship like a web. He took a deep breath and moved to the nearest access panel, crouching down to inspect it. Sure enough, the bolts had been loosened—evidence of Narro’s handiwork. Henrik shook his head with a mix of frustration and admiration. She was resourceful, just like her mother.

Henrik pulled open the panel and peered into the darkness beyond. 'Narro,' he called, his voice echoing through the metal shaft.

There was no response, only the faint sound of distant machinery. He knew she was in there somewhere.

Meanwhile, Narro crawled on her hands and knees through the dimly lit vent, the metallic walls cool against her skin. The confined space felt oddly comforting, a small world she could navigate by touch and memory. She had overheard plenty of conversations while exploring these passages—secret plans, quiet arguments, and the occasional tale of adventure. It was how she learned about the world outside the ship, a world she had never seen with her own eyes.

Today, though, she wanted to be brave. She wanted to explore like her mother had done, down on the surface of Adustus. Narro’s mother was a legend in her eyes, a figure of strength and courage who had ventured into the unknown without hesitation. Narro wanted to be like that—bold, unafraid. She pressed forward, deeper into the ventilation system, determined to reach the parts of the ship she had never dared explore before.

The further she went, the quieter the ship became. The usual hum of voices and footsteps faded, replaced by the rhythmic pulse of the Ark Dimitte’s engines far below. She felt a thrill of excitement, mixed with a tinge of fear. The shadows seemed thicker here, the air colder. Dust, mildew and metal shards littered the inside of the shaft beside loose bolts, acorns and rusty joints. Narro’s heart raced as she crawled on, her small hands gripping the metal edges to steady herself.

She had to be brave, just like her mother.

The vent suddenly widened into a larger shaft, one she had never seen before. She hesitated for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. This was further than she had ever gone, deeper into the ship than she had ever imagined. The unknown lay before her, vast and silent.

But instead of turning back, Narro took a deep breath and moved forward into the darkness, her resolve unshaken.

#

Talia moved with purpose through the dimly lit corridors of the Ark Dimitte, her boots clanging softly against the metal floor. The air was thick with the smell of machine oil and incense, the scent of the Omnissiah’s blessings. She had waited patiently for this moment, watching as Darnes entertained the other high-ranking Magi in his quarters, prattling on about his previous discoveries. The man was too absorbed in his own grandeur to notice her slip away.

She approached the vault’s entrance where Marshal Gox stood guard, his massive frame looming like a statue. He turned towards her as she approached.

‘Marshal, the Magos has given me permission to examine the vault. He said it would be beneficial for my research.’ Her voice was steady, confident. She knew Gox well enough to understand he trusted her; they had worked together many times.

Gox paused, his head tilted slightly as if considering. Then he nodded, stepping aside without question. ‘Go ahead, Priestess Talia.’

Talia offered him a curt nod of thanks before stepping into the vault’s chamber. The heavy door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss, sealing her inside the room. The space was dimly lit, the walls lined with arcane circuitry and cogitator panels humming softly. But her focus was on the object in the centre of the room—the vault and within: the casket.

It was larger than she had remembered, its surface etched with symbols and runes that seemed to pulse faintly with an inner amber light. Talia approached it cautiously, her mechanical eye whirring softly as it adjusted to the low light. The casket’s lid lay open on its hinges, revealing the interior.

What she saw took her breath away.

The inside was lined with strange, dark material, smooth to the touch yet radiating an eerie golden energy. The shape of the casket was unmistakable—it was designed to house something, or someone. Her systems began running diagnostics automatically, analysing the material and the odd etchings within the lid. There, near the upper edge, she noticed a small hexagonal button, glowing a faint amber. It seemed almost out of place, nestled among the ancient engravings on the inside of the casket lid. She reached out, her fingers hovering over it. The markings on the lid were intricate, but they told a story of their own. This was no mere container—it seemed like armour, or at least some form of it.

Her systems fed her data as they processed the findings. The alloy used in the casket’s construction was unlike anything she had encountered in standard records. But then, a fragment of data surfaced—a connection to Lucius, once known for its secretive and often dangerous experiments. It was an alloy that had been developed ages ago, off the record, deemed too unstable, too dangerous for practical use. Yet here it was, embedded within this ancient device.

Talia’s fingers traced the inner edge of the casket, where she found what she had suspected—tiny sunstones imprinted along the surface, their faint glow unmistakable. Lucius sunstones, the key to many of her forgeworld’s most potent technologies. She felt a thrill run through her—this was something extraordinary, something that should never have existed.

Her thoughts raced as she considered the implications. This armour, if it could still be activated, could be a relic of unimaginable power. The amber button seemed to beckon her, daring her to press it, to see what would happen. But she hesitated, knowing the risks, the unknown dangers that could be unleashed.

The sound of the vault door opening snapped her out of her thoughts.

She spun around, her heart racing, only to find herself face to face with Magos Krondax. His red robes billowed slightly as he stepped into the room, his bionic eyes fixed on her with a cold, calculating gaze.

‘Talia,’ Krondax’s voice was a mechanical whisper, amplified through a vox-grille. ‘I see you have taken a keen interest in our find.’

Talia felt her breath catch, the weight of his presence suffocating. She had been caught, and there was no telling what the Magos would do now that he had found her here, with secrets she was never meant to uncover.

#

Narro limped through the under-brush, each step sending sharp jolts of pain through her battered body. She held the gashes across her ribs as the deep bite marks on her shoulder throbbed with every step. The wolves had taken their toll, but she had survived. The forest around her was quiet, eerily so, as if even the wind had decided to leave her in peace. Narro hardly noticed. Her focus was solely on the path ahead, the worn trail that would lead her back to her hovel. Her sanctuary.

She stumbled on her blade-like legs, catching herself against a tree. The world tilted for a moment, her vision blurring as she fought to stay upright. She couldn't afford to collapse, not out here. She had to make it back, had to tend to her wounds. But with every step, the distance seemed to stretch further, as if her home was retreating from her.

Narro tried to grit her teeth, but she had no teeth to grit, forcing herself to keep moving. The pain was a constant companion, gnawing at her resolve, but she pushed it aside. She had lived through worse. She would live through this.

The path began to climb, the ground beneath her turning rocky as she neared the ridge. The exertion sent fresh waves of agony through her ribs, but she welcomed the pain. It kept her awake, kept her moving. She couldn’t afford to rest. As she reached the top of the ridge, she paused, leaning heavily on her good arm. Her hovel was just beyond the next rise, she knew. A few more steps and she would be safe.

Something caught her eye, something that didn’t belong.

She tried to blink, but she had no eyes to blink. And then she saw it.

High above, cutting through the heavens like a blade, was a massive ship. Its silhouette was dark against the blinding light of the sun, the edges sharp and menacing. It hung in orbit, impossibly large, dominating the sky with its presence.

Narro’s pain was momentarily forgotten as she stared up at the ship. It was real. She wasn’t imagining it. For the first time in over fifty years, something had broken the monotony of her existence on this forsaken planet. And it was impossible. No one came here. Not for all the years she had been alone.

That damn beacon worked.

She took a step forward, then another, until she stood atop the grassy hill, the world falling away beneath her. The ship remained, unmoving, a silent sentinel in the sky. Narro could hardly believe it. Her legs trembled, not from exhaustion, but from something she hadn’t felt in so long she had forgotten how it felt.

Hope.

For a long moment, Narro just stood there, staring up at the ship as the wind whispered through the grass. The world around her seemed to stand with her, waiting. And for the first time in years, Narro allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, her time on this planet was coming to an end.

#

Narro crawled through the narrow vent, her small hands and knees aching from the cold metal beneath her. The ventilation shaft had always been her refuge, a place where she could explore unnoticed, where the adults' secrets were laid bare for her to hear. But today, the familiar comfort of the dark, winding tunnels was gone, replaced by a gnawing dread that twisted in her stomach.

She had heard Darnes speaking with the Magos, his voice low and conspiratorial, echoing through the vents. At first, she hadn’t paid much attention, his words slipping past her like so many others had before. But then he mentioned her mother.

'Talia is imprisoned,' Darnes had said, his tone almost smug. 'The Magos will see to it that she is removed from the exploration teams. Perhaps even... terminated. It’s for the best. She’s become a liability.'

Narro had frozen, her breath catching in her throat.

Imprisoned? Killed? Her mother was back on the ship, and no one had told her. The realization was like ice water poured over her, shocking her into motion. She had to find her mother. She had to get her out.

She moved quickly, her heart pounding in her chest, as she navigated the twists and turns of the ventilation system. She had overheard talk of the prison cells before, how they were guarded by servitors, how no one ever escaped. But Narro wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t afford to be. She was her mother’s daughter, after all, and Talia had always been brave.

Finally, she reached the grate that overlooked the cells. Peering down, she saw the dull grey walls and dank red-metal floor. A servitor stood guard, its mechanical limbs twitching as it mindlessly patrolled the corridor. Narro’s eyes darted to the cells, and there, in the furthest one, she saw her mother.

Talia was sitting on the edge of a narrow cot, her head bowed, her hands resting on her knees. She looked tired, more tired than Narro had ever seen her. But there was a fire in her eye, a stubborn defiance that had always been there, even when Narro was a baby.

Narro knew she had to act fast.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small metal ball, a makeshift distraction device she had made during one of her many adventures in the ship’s bowels. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and dropped it down the shaft.

The ball clattered to the floor with a sharp metallic sound, rolling away into the darkness. The servitor’s head snapped toward the noise, its sensors whirring as it lumbered after the sound, leaving the cell unguarded. Narro didn’t waste a second. She pried open the grate and dropped down into the corridor, landing with a soft thud. She winced as her feet hit the cold floor but pushed the pain aside, rushing toward her mother’s cell.

Talia looked up, her eyes widening in shock as she saw Narro standing there. 'What are you doing here?' she hissed, her voice low and urgent. 'You shouldn’t be here!'

But Narro was already working on the lock, her fingers moving with a practised ease she had learned from countless hours of tinkering. The door clicked open, and she pushed it wide, her heart racing with a mix of fear and determination.

'We need to leave,' Narro said, her voice shaking but firm. 'The Magos is going to kill you. We have to find Dad and get out of here.'

Talia hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching Narro’s face. Then, with a nod, she stood up, the fire in her eye burning brighter. 'Alright,' she said, her voice softening. 'But we need to move quickly. This ship is no longer safe for either of us.'

Together, they slipped out of the cell, Narro’s small hand gripping her mother’s tightly. The Ark Dimitte was vast and dangerous, but Narro didn’t care. She had her mother back, and they would find her father. They would get out. No matter what it took.

#

Narro stumbled through the under-brush, each step sending sharp pains shooting through her side where the wolves had left their mark. She forced herself to keep moving, the distant silhouette of her prison-home guiding her through the pain. When she finally reached the small, weathered structure, Narro nearly collapsed against the rough door. She took a moment then pushed inside, her hand clutching her side as she stumbled over to the window.

Outside, the horizon was bathed in the dying light of day, but it was what she saw in the distance that made her freeze. Far off, almost on the edge of her vision, she could see them—transport ships, their forms dark against the crimson sky. They were unmistakable, their massive shapes cutting through the clouds like knives. But it wasn’t just their presence that sent a chill through her. It was the symbols emblazoned on their hulls, stark and unmistakable even at this distance. The mark of Lucius

They were coming for her.

Narro’s gaze shifted to the workbench where the egg-shaped device lay, silent and unassuming. For days, it had done nothing, leaving her in a state of anxious anticipation. Now, it seemed, it had finally done its job. And the wrong people had answered.

Her instincts screamed at her to destroy it, to grab the device and smash it to pieces before they could get to her. But she knew it was too late for that. They would arrive soon, and when they did, they would scour the area until they found what they were looking for. If they found her…

Narro shook her head, clearing the thought. She couldn’t stay here. The transport ships were still far off, but it wouldn’t be long before they reached the device’s coordinates. She couldn’t afford to be anywhere near this place when they did.

With a grimace, she turned away from the device, the adrenaline of the moment overpowering the pain in her side. She could feel the darkness closing in, the weight of it pressing against her as the sun sank lower and lower.

She needed to move, and fast.

Without a second glance at the device, Narro stepped out into the fading light. The forest loomed before her, a dark, twisting maze of trees and undergrowth that would soon become an impenetrable wall of blackness. She didn’t have much time. She cast one last look at the distant ships, watching as they grew against the horizon, heading for the exact spot where she had hoped her salvation might come. A bitter taste filled her mouth as she turned away and plunged into the forest, the trees swallowing her whole. The darkness deepened as she ran, the light slipping away until all that remained was the sound of her ragged breathing and the crunch of leaves underfoot. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to get as far away from them as possible. The forest would be her refuge now, its familiar paths her only hope of escape.

As the last traces of daylight vanished, leaving her in the pitch-black night, Narro knew something far worse than the wolves was hunting her now.

#

Talia’s grip on Narro's hand tightened as they moved quickly through the dim corridors of the Ark Dimitte, their quarters now only a short distance away. Narro’s heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and confusion swirling within her as she clung to her mother’s side.

They rounded the last corner, and Talia froze, pulling Narro back against the wall. Narro peered around her mother, and her breath caught in her throat. In the narrow corridor leading to their quarters, Magos Krondax and Marshal Gox were escorting Narro’s father, his arms bound behind his back, flanked by two Skitarii. Henrik’s head was down, his face a mask of resignation.

‘Dad…’ Narro whispered, the word barely escaping her lips.

Talia’s eye darkened with a fierce determination, but she held her daughter close, urging her to stay silent. They watched as the Magos and his entourage moved past their quarters, heading toward the vault’s chambers deeper within the ship. Talia’s mind raced, searching for a plan, for anything that could save them. Without thinking, they began to follow, keeping to the shadows as they trailed the group. Narro’s small feet moved as quietly as they could, her heart thudding so loudly she feared the others would hear it. As they neared the entrance to the vault, Narro’s foot caught on a loose piece of metal grating. She stumbled, catching herself, but the clang echoed down the corridor like a symphony of misfortune.

The Magos turned, his mechanical eyes locking onto the shadows where they hid. ‘We are not alone,’ he intoned, his voice a low, metallic growl. Marshal Gox snapped to attention, his hand already signalling the Skitarii. The soldiers turned, their weapons raised.

‘Run!’ Talia hissed, pulling Narro with her as they bolted down the corridor.

They ran as fast as they could, the heavy footsteps of their pursuers closing in behind them. The entrance to the vault chamber loomed ahead, the door already open, spilling harsh light into the hallway. Narro’s legs burned, but she pushed on, the fear driving her forward.

They burst into the vault room, Darnes standing beside the open casket, his eyes widening in surprise as Talia and Narro skidded to a halt before him. His surprise quickly turned to a sneer as he stepped forward, blocking their escape.

‘Talia,’ he sneered, ‘what a pleasant surprise. And you brought the girl. How convenient.’

Talia stepped in front of Narro, her body a shield. ‘Narro,’ she said softly, her voice strained but steady, ‘listen to me. I need you to get into the casket.’

‘But—’ Narro managed.

‘Do as I say, Narro. Now!’ Talia’s voice brooked no argument.

Narro hesitated for only a moment before she turned and ran to the casket, the open lid gaping like a mouth waiting to swallow her whole. She climbed inside, the interior cold and unwelcoming against her skin. The lid’s strange etchings glowed a faint yellow across her body.

Darnes moved toward them, his face twisted with triumph. ‘You won’t be escaping now, Talia. The Magos will see to that.’

But Talia wasn’t listening. She spun around and, with every ounce of strength she had left, drove her fist into Darnes’ face. There was a sickening crunch as her hand connected with metal, sending shock-waves of pain up her arm. Darnes staggered back, clutching his face out of reflex and shock.

‘Stay down!’ Talia screamed to Narro, her voice laced with fury and pain.

Narro curled up in the casket, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to scream, to help her mother, but Talia’s voice echoed in her mind, urging her to stay still, to trust her. Tears welled in Narro’s eyes as she watched from the casket’s open lid. Talia stumbled back toward the casket, her broken hand cradled against her chest. She leaned down, her face coming into view, a forced, reassuring smile on her lips.

‘You’ll be safe in here, Narro,’ she whispered, her voice trembling. ‘You have to be brave, like I know you are.’

Narro reached out, her small hand brushing against her mother’s arm. ‘Don’t leave me…’

Talia’s eye shone with unshed tears, but she shook her head. ‘I’ll always be with you, Narro. Just stay inside. You’ll be safe.’

The last thing Narro saw before Talia closed the casket’s lid was her mother’s tearful smile. The casket sealed with a soft hiss, locking her inside. Darkness enveloped her, and in that moment, Narro knew the world outside would never be the same again.

#

Narro crouched in the dense under-brush, her breaths shallow and controlled as she watched the ship’s massive hull descend through the thickening twilight. The ground shook as the landing gears touched down with a thud, displacing the earth and sending a wave of sound echoing through the forest. She kept her eyes fixed on the Skitarii as they deployed, moving in their eerily precise formations, fanning out in squads that began to systematically comb the forest floor. The last traces of daylight faded, swallowed by the encroaching night. Narro slipped deeper into the cover of the trees, her movements silent and calculated. She had lived in this forest long enough to know its every sound, every rustle of leaf and snap of twig. She knew when not to step on ancient stone and how to hide within the old cities overgrown buildings. She knew how to move like the wind, unseen, unheard.

The Skitarii moved with mechanical efficiency, very much seen and very much heard, their red optics scanning the surroundings with cold detachment. Narro could see the sigils of the Lucius Forgeworld glowing dimly on their armour as they passed through patches of moonlight that barely pierced the thick canopy. They were methodical, their search patterns designed to leave no stone unturned, no tree unexamined.

She crept closer to the edge of the forest, her eyes fixed on the nearest squad as they advanced through the undergrowth. She had climbed up a sturdy tree, its thick branches offering a perfect vantage point. From here, she could see the Skitarii sweeping through the overgrown city, their numbers too great to count in the dim light. The mechanical warriors moved beneath her, oblivious to her presence above. Narro’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her blade, feeling the familiar weight of it. She waited. She knew she had to be patient, to strike only when the time was right.

The squad moved past her tree, their Princeps halting to scan the area more thoroughly. Narro’s eyes narrowed as she assessed the distance between them. With a silent leap, she dropped down from the branch, landing in a crouch behind the last Skitarii in the line. Her blade whispered as it sliced through the air, severing the connection between the warrior’s head and torso. The Skitarii crumpled without a sound, its systems failing instantly. Narro moved swiftly, her motions fluid and precise. She was already behind the second Skitarii before it could register its comrade’s fall. Her blade found the gap in its armour, sliding effortlessly between the plates and cutting through the internal circuitry with lethal precision. The Skitarii twitched once, then collapsed into the under-brush, its red optics flickering before going dark.

She paused, listening for any sign that the others had noticed, but the forest remained deathly silent. The Skitarii were many, but she was one with the forest, and she knew how to use it to her advantage.

Narro glanced up through the dark canopy. She had to keep moving. The night was her ally, but it wouldn’t protect her forever. She melted back into the shadows, the bodies of the Skitarii lying cold and motionless behind her.

#

The lid of the casket hissed shut, the amber and gold stones casting a warm, pulsating light that danced across Narro’s face. The sigils etched into the lid glowed brighter, shifting and spinning in intricate patterns that she couldn’t understand. Her heart pounded in her chest, a rapid staccato that echoed within the confines of the casket. She felt the cold press of the metal against her skin, the sides of the casket seeming to close in, holding her in place. Narro’s breath quickened as the lid clicked, the sound resonating with a finality that sent a spike of fear through her. The lid was coming down, closing tighter, too tight. She struggled, her small hands pushing against the unyielding metal, but there was no space to move, no way to escape the encroaching walls. Panic surged through her as she realized what was happening—the casket was going to crush her.

Her screams filled the confined space, echoing back at her, growing louder and more frantic. The yellow, amber hexagonal button embedded in the lid pressed down against her chest, cold and unrelenting. The pressure increased, and Narro’s screams turned to raw, unbridled terror as the lid continued its inexorable descent.

Then came the burning.

It started as a warmth that spread across her skin, but within seconds, it intensified, becoming a searing, unbearable heat that felt like it was flaying the flesh from her bones. Narro’s screams tore from her throat, raw and desperate, as her body convulsed in agony. The heat grew and grew until it was blinding, all-consuming—like she was being burned alive by the very sun itself.

She tried to scream again, but no sound came out. The burning was everywhere, within her, without her. Her mind screamed, but her body was no longer her own. It was all fire, all pain, all heat. She felt her bones turning to liquid, her very essence melting away under the merciless assault. And then, everything went black.

Narro awoke to silence. Her first instinct was to breathe, but there was nothing—no air, no lungs, no body that she recognized. Panic gripped her again, but it was distant, muted, as though it came from another place, another time. She tried to blink, to clear her vision, but she had no eyes.

But she was still here. Somehow, she was still here.

Without thinking, she pushed against the lid of the casket with her hands—not her hands, but something else, something harder, stronger. The metal bent under her touch, and with a sudden burst of strength, she ripped the lid from its hinges, flinging it across the vault.

She rose from the casket, her movements fluid and silent. Her body felt light, impossibly so, and when she looked down, she saw the thin, pointed blades that now served as her feet. Blackened metallic limbs moved at her command, her form alien and terrifying.

The vault door opened, responding to her presence, and Narro stepped out into the room beyond.

The first thing she saw was her father, Henrik, falling to the ground as the Magos withdrew a blood-stained metallic claw from his chest.

No.

Narro’s mind froze in shock, the world narrowing to the sight of her mother, crumpled to the floor, her screams of grief piercing the air.

Darnes stood over Talia, his serpenta pistol aimed at her skull. Marshal Gox was there too, standing closest to the vault door, his eyes downcast, unable to watch the horror unfolding before him.

Time slowed to a crawl. Narro felt a cold rage rising within her, something primal and fierce. Without hesitation, she moved, her new body responding to her will with lethal precision. She sprinted forward, her blackened metallic hands cutting through the air like blades. Gox barely had time to look up before Narro slammed into him, her strength more than enough to break him in two. The Marshal’s body crumpled, torn apart by the force of her strike, blood and metal scattering across the floor.

The Magos looked up, his expression unreadable beneath his mechanical visage, but there was no mistaking the command that followed. His voice was cold, devoid of emotion.

‘Kill her,’ he ordered Darnes.

#

Narro sprinted through the dense forest, she pushed herself harder, faster. The ground was uneven, treacherous with roots and rocks that threatened to trip her at every step, but she kept going. Behind her, the sharp crack of Skitarii gunfire split the night, the bright flashes of energy weapons lighting up the shadows.

She couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop.

She darted through a narrow gap between two trees, her body moving instinctively, her senses heightened. The Skitarii were relentless, their metallic feet pounding the earth in pursuit. They were closer now, too close. The forest echoed with their mechanical voices, cold and emotionless as they called out orders to flank her, to cut off her escape.

And then, from the darkness, another sound joined the cacophony—the low, guttural growls of wolves. Narro’s heart skipped a beat as she realized they had found her again, the pack that had nearly killed her before. She could hear them, their heavy breaths and snapping jaws closing in from all sides, drawn by the chaos of the chase.

She pushed forward, her wounds from the last encounter with the wolves screaming in protest. She could feel the the deep gashes on her ribs and shoulder still raw and painful. But she couldn’t let that slow her down. She had to keep moving. The wolves were faster than the Skitarii, their lean bodies weaving through the trees with predatory grace. Narro could hear them snapping at her heels, their growls mixing with the hiss of energy bolts as the Skitarii fired into the darkness.

The wolves didn’t care. They were hunters, driven by instinct and hunger, and right now, she was their prey.

Narro veered left, hoping to lose them in the thicker under-brush. She heard a sharp yelp behind her as one of the wolves leaped into the path of a Skitarii, the beast’s momentum carrying it into the cold, hard body of the machine. The gunfire faltered for a moment as the Skitarii turned to fend off the pack, the wolves attacking them with the same ferocity they had shown her.

Yet, there was no relief in that. The forest was alive with the sounds of battle—growls, weapons fire, the crunch of metal and bone. It was only a matter of time before they caught up to her. Narro could feel her strength waning.

She was about to push herself into another sprint when something struck her—a sudden, searing pain that blossomed in her chest, unlike anything she had ever felt before. It wasn’t a physical impact, not exactly. It was more like a wave of energy, a pulse that radiated through her body, locking her in an instant. Narro stumbled, her pointed legs giving out beneath her as the world tilted sideways. She hit the ground hard, her hands instinctively clutching at her chest where the blast had struck. But she couldn’t feel anything. Her fingers wouldn’t respond, her limbs frozen in place as if paralysed.

Panic surged through her, but it was distant, muted, just like everything else. Her vision darkened, the sounds of the forest fading away, until there was nothing left but a deep, overwhelming silence. Narro tried to move, to scream, to do anything, but she was trapped in her own body, held down by an invisible force that she couldn’t fight.

Time froze as everything went black.

#

Talia’s servo arm lashed out with sudden precision, the crack of metal against metal reverberating through the chamber as it struck Darnes squarely on the wrist. The weakened joint, already compromised by Gox's earlier blows, gave way with a sickening crunch. Darnes howled, his severed hand clattering to the floor, the serpenta slipping from his grasp. Talia wasted no time, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and desperation as she launched herself at him.

Narro, her vision still hazy with the remnants of the transformation, saw her mother struggling against Darnes. The sight of her father’s lifeless body sprawled on the cold metal floor ignited something deep within her—a raw, unbridled rage. The Magos, sensing the shift in the air, turned his arc blaster toward Talia, its barrel glowing with lethal energy.

Narro was faster.

She moved with a speed that felt unnatural, her new form a blur of blackened metal and sharpened edges. Her hand, now a weapon unto itself, swiped the arc blaster from the Magos’s grip with a force that sent the device skidding across the room. The Magos barely had time to register the loss before Narro was upon him. Her hands tore into the Magos’s chest. She felt the resistance of his augmented flesh and the crunch of metallic bone beneath her fingers, but she didn’t stop. The world around her was a haze of red, her vision tunnelled on the face of the man who had taken everything from her. With a guttural scream that echoed through the vault, Narro drove her hands deeper, ripping through Magos Krondax with a savagery that left nothing but ruin in her wake.

Krondax gurgled, a spray of blood misting the air through his grille mouth, as his body convulsed. Narro tore her hands free, the weight of her rage lifting only slightly as the Magos crumpled to the floor, his red eyes blinking out.

There was no time to revel in the victory.

Narro barely registered the sight of Darnes, still alive and scrambling for his fallen serpenta, before Talia shoved Narro back toward the vault room’s entrance. Talia’s movements were desperate, fuelled by a mother’s instinct to protect, and before Narro could react, the heavy metal doors slammed shut between them.

Narro’s fists pounded against the reinforced door, her new strength leaving dents in the metal. Through the small window, she saw her mother’s face, pale but resolute. Talia placed a trembling hand against the glass, her eyes locking with Narro’s.

'Run,' Talia mouthed, her voice inaudible through the thick barrier, but the command was clear.

Narro hesitated, torn between the instinct to stay and fight and the desperate need to obey her mother’s final plea. Behind her, she could hear the Skitarii advancing, their heavy footsteps echoing through the corridor, getting closer. Through the window, Narro’s eyes widened as she saw Darnes rise, his serpenta back in his remaining hand. Before she could react, Talia was thrown across the room by a powerful strike from Darnes, her body slamming into the far wall with a sickening thud.

The Skitarii burst into the corridor behind her, their galvanic rifles raised. A barrage of weapons fire erupted, the blasts sparking off the walls as Narro ducked and bolted down the hallway, her feet pounding against the cold metal floors. As she ran, the last sound she heard from the vault’s room was a single, muffled shot from Darnes’s serpenta. It echoed through the halls.

Through her mind.

Narro’s sprinted through the maze of corridors, but no tears came. She tried to cry, to release the unbearable pain that clawed at her insides, but there was nothing. The new metal shell that encased her had stolen that, too.

She could only run. Grief and rage had caught her already but she still had to run.

#

Narro didn’t remember much of what happened after her mother died. The memories blurred together, a whirlwind of terror and rage that twisted into a suffocating void. The sounds of battle and the echo of that final serpenta shot had merged into a single, continuous scream in her mind. She remembered running—running until her legs gave out and her new, metal hands scratched deep furrows into the cold floors of the Ark Dimitte.

She remembered the bodies. Dead Skitarii scattered through the ship like broken toys, their galvanic rifles clutched in lifeless hands. Narro had torn through them in a blind fury, each kill blurring into the next. It wasn’t until later, when the bloodlust faded, that the cold dread settled in. She had become something else—something monstrous.

In the quiet moments between the killing, Narro hid. Her once-small form now filled with a new, dreadful power, yet it was a power she couldn’t fully control. She skulked through the shadows of the Ark Dimitte, haunted by the ghost of her mother and the weight of her own guilt. She found the hilt of her sword at her back and, as she touched the blackened handle, the long blade extended. She was as confused and frustrated when finding her pistols clamped to her thighs too.

She avoided the ship’s security systems, evading capture. Each step she took was filled with a desperate need to survive, though she no longer knew why. Narro didn’t know how long she skulked through the Ark Dimitte, though it felt like an age.

It was in one of those rare, quiet moments that she found her mother’s ship. It was tucked away in a forgotten hangar, the sleek lines of its hull still familiar despite the years that had passed. Narro knew it was her only way out. She had clambered aboard, her hands trembling as she activated the ancient controls. Her mother’s ship, it once meant adventure, now felt like a tomb.

Narro punched in whatever coordinates were keyed into the navigation system. She didn’t care where it took her—only that it was far away from the Ark Dimitte and the horrors it held. The ship’s engines roared to life, and Narro was flung into the void, the stars blurring into streaks of light as she fled. She tried to cry, to release the grief that gnawed at her like a beast, but her new face—cold and unfeeling—could no longer express the pain inside. She was trapped, not just in her twisted body, but in the endless spiral of her memories.

Now, Narro awoke again. She tried to move, but her body refused to respond. The paralysis held her in a grip as tight as the fear that had once consumed her. In the darkness, her mind replayed the scenes of her past, each one sharper, more vivid than the last. Her mother’s face, contorted in pain, her father’s lifeless eyes, the feeling of her own hands, slick with blood. The memories consumed her, dragging her deeper into the void.

She was dimly aware of being hauled onto a transport craft, her body jostling with each step as unseen hands secured her. She could hear the low, mechanical murmurs of the Skitarii standing guard beside her, their voices stripped of all emotion.

’Everything is ready,’ one of the Skitarii confirmed to another, its voice a metallic rasp. ’We can begin our journey to the Ark Dimitte.’

Narro’s mind screamed in protest, but her body remained unresponsive. She felt the cold bite of despair, sharper than any blade, as the world faded to black once more.

#

Narro awoke to the dim glow of amber lights, her senses slowly pulling her from the depths of unconsciousness. The first thing she noticed was the sound—a low, thrumming hum that resonated through the floor and into her bones. She recognized it instantly, a sound that had been imprinted into her very soul.

It was the hum of the vault.

She lay on a gurney, her body strangely weightless as she tried to process where she was. The vault stretched out before her; it’s ancient machinery silent and still. The casket, the one that had transformed her all those years ago, lay open beside her, its lid restored, its surface glowing with a soft, eerie light. Power flowed through it, bringing life to the strange etchings that adorned its edges.

Narro stared at it, disbelief washing over her. It felt like a dream—one of those fevered visions she had while trapped in the darkness of her memories.

How many times had she relived the horror of that day? How many times had she wished it would end differently?

She hesitated, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch the edge of the casket. It was warm beneath her fingers, the metal thrumming with a faint energy. She half-expected to feel the searing pain again, the sensation of her body being burned and remade into something monstrous. But there was no pain this time—only a strange, comforting warmth. She sat up slowly, her movements sluggish as though she was still caught between the waking world and the dream. The room seemed to spin around her, she tried to close her eyes, willing herself to wake up from this impossible reality. But she had no eyes to close. She looked down at the casket then back up.

She she saw her mother.

Talia stepped into the vault, her presence so sudden and surreal that Narro almost couldn’t believe it. Her heart would have skipped a beat, and for a moment, she wouldn’t have been able to breathe.

Her mother had changed—she was more machine than human now, her body encased in red and cream robes, the kind worn by the highest-ranking Magi. Half of her head was a gleaming mass of metal and circuitry, both her eyes glowing with a soft, artificial light. She carried an enormous Omnissian axe in one hand, its edge crackling with barely contained energy.

Narro tried to blink, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. She had dreamt of this moment countless times, but it had never felt this real, this vivid.

’Mother?’ Narro’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. ’Is this... Is this a dream?’

Talia’s gaze softened, the harsh lines of her mechanical face almost appearing human in the dim light. She set the axe down, leaning it against the vault wall as she stepped closer. Without a word, she reached out and pulled Narro into a tight embrace, the metal of her arms cool against Narro’s blackened skin. Narro could feel the mechanical parts of her mother’s body, could hear the faint whirr of servos and the gentle hum of cybernetic components. But beneath it all, she could still sense the warmth, the unmistakable presence of the woman who had raised her, who had loved her.

’You’re awake,’ Talia whispered, her voice soft yet tinged with that familiar strength. ’My Narro...’

Narro wished she could cry. She wished she could smile. But her face, her body, no longer knew how to express those emotions. Instead, she simply held onto her mother, feeling a wave of love and calm wash over her—a feeling she hadn’t known in what felt like a lifetime. It was overwhelming, this sudden surge of emotion after years of numbness. For the first time in so long, she felt... safe.

’I...’ Narro’s voice cracked, ’How... how are you here? You... you died... I saw you...’

’No, I didn’t die,’ Talia replied, pulling back just enough to look Narro in the eyes. ’I survived, barely. Magos Krondax had plans—dark, twisted plans that would have sold the vault’s technology to the highest bidder. He didn’t care about the Imperium, or any of us. He just wanted power.’

Narro’s heart ached at the thought, memories of the Magos’s betrayal flooding back. She remembered the cold, metallic claw that had ended her father’s life, the look in Darnes’s eyes as he pressed the serpenta to her mother’s head. And yet, here she stood—alive, transformed, but alive.

’But... I saw… I heard you die,’ Narro repeated, her voice trembling. ’The shot... I heard the shot...’

Talia’s mechanical eye flickered slightly, a sign of the emotion still buried within her. ’I thought I was dead, too,’ she admitted. ’but you heard the shot that ended Darnes’s life. I barely remember what happened after that, but I survived. They made me a Magos after years of study and hard work. My crimes... they were forgiven when they realized what he was trying to do.’

Narro listened, absorbing each word with a mixture of disbelief and wonder. It was too much to take in all at once, yet she felt an odd sense of peace washing over her. She was with her mother, and that was all that mattered.

’Look how much you’ve grown,’ Talia said, her voice tinged with pride. ’You’ve become so strong, Narro. I looked for you for years, hoping... praying that you were still alive. But after so long, I feared the worst. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.’

Narro shook her head, unable to find the words. All the anger, all the pain she had carried with her for so long—it began to melt away in the presence of her mother. She was no longer alone.

’You don’t need to apologize,’ Narro said finally, her voice thick with emotion. ’You found me. That’s all that matters.’

They both laughed, a sound that felt so foreign to Narro after all these years. It was a small, tentative laugh, but it was genuine.

’You know,’ Talia said, her tone shifting slightly, ’I’ve learned a lot about the casket and what it did to you. If you wish, we could try to remove the Helios Mantle, your bound armour. It’s linked to you now, to your very DNA. It’s a part of you, but... if you want to be free of it, there’s a way.’

Narro looked down at herself, at the blackened, metallic form she had become. The armour had been both her curse and her salvation, a constant reminder of the day she lost everything. And yet, it had also kept her alive, given her strength when she had none. The idea of being free of it was tempting—so tempting. But at the same time, she wasn’t sure if she could let it go.

’It’s your choice, Narro. Always your choice. But know that I’m here for you, whatever you decide.’ Talia said reassuringly.

Narro felt a warmth spreading through her—a warmth that had nothing to do with the armour or the vault. It was the warmth of family, of belonging. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she felt whole.

She looked around the vault, at the ancient machinery that had changed the course of her life.

’I have an idea,’ Narro said, her voice steady and filled with a newfound excitement.

Talia raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in her mechanical eye.

#

The wind howled across the frozen wasteland, its icy fingers clawing at the exposed flesh of anyone foolish enough to stand against it. Narro stood at the edge of the ridge, overlooking the desolate expanse of snow and ice that stretched as far as the eye could see. The cold was biting, but she felt it keenly—a reminder that she was, at last, human again. Her white hair fluttered in the wind, and she could taste the sharp tang of frost on her lips. For a moment, she closed her eyes and simply felt the chill seep into her bones, grounding her in the present.

Beside her, the Lucius Skitarii kill team stood motionless, their crimson and cream armour stark against the white landscape. They were a deadly, silent force, waiting for her command. Among them, Marshal Gox loomed, his rebuilt form towering over the others. His presence was a constant, a reminder of the past she could never fully escape. Yet there was a certain comfort in it now—knowing that even after everything, some things remained.

Narro glanced at Gox, the memory of their first encounter flashing through her mind.

‘If I may ask, Archeotech Hunter Narro, are you certain the suits are here, on this frozen wasteland?’ Gox asked, breaking the silence.

Narro’s smiled as she looked back out at the endless ice. ‘Yes, Gox. Two suits, crafted by the Lucius forgeworld for Perturabo, intended for Leman Russ during the Great Crusade. My mother’s ancient intel is almost always right. They’re here.’

Gox remained silent, but Narro could feel his focus shift, his systems recalibrating for the mission ahead. She understood him better now—his actions aboard the Ark Dimitte, his cold adherence to orders, even when it had cost her family everything. He was a tool of the Omnissiah, hard-programmed to follow commands from his superiors. But Talia had seen something more in him, something worth remaking. Perhaps, in a way, they had both been remade.

Narro adjusted the red collar of her off-white coat, the wind biting at the exposed skin of her neck. The cold felt good—it reminded her of who she was, who she had become. Not just the black-armored terror of her past, but Narro, a hunter, an explorer, a daughter. The thought brought a warmth to her chest that even the biting cold couldn’t extinguish.

She gave the signal, and the kill team began their descent into the snowy forest below. The trees were tall and ancient, their branches heavy with snow. Narro moved with purpose, her breath visible in the frigid air. Every step was careful, calculated—there was something wrong here, something that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

The ground beneath them began to shift.

Snow fell away as white-armored figures emerged, their forms tall and skeletal, their eyes glowing with an eerie, blue light.

Necrons.

Narro’s heart quickened, the adrenaline already coursing through her veins. She had faced these machines before, their relentless march, their unwavering pursuit of death. But these were different—their armour was pristine, their movements precise. And at their centre stood a towering figure, some form of Necron Noble, its glowing staff held high as it surveyed the battlefield.

The tall Necron leader raised its staff, the energy coalescing at its tip into a brilliant, blinding azure light. Narro didn’t hesitate. She rolled to the side, feeling the heat of the blast as it seared the air where she had stood just a moment before. As she moved, she felt the shift.

The Helios Mantle materialised around her, encasing her in its blackened, lethal embrace.

She looked down at her arm, where the yellow hexagon button from the casket’s lid was now embedded into her forearm, pulsing with power. The armour's sunstones began to glow, responding to the threat with a fierce, almost sentient energy. The sun, hidden behind the clouds, broke through the canopy, its rays catching the armour's surface and sending a cascade of light dancing across the snow. Narro’s twin pistols were in her hands before she had even realized it, the familiar weight comforting. The Necron leader’s eyes locked onto her, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Narro unleashed a volley of fire, the beams of energy cutting through the icy air. The Necron staggered, its staff flaring as it tried to deflect the attack, but Narro was relentless.

The final shot struck true, tearing through the Necron’s blue-lit chest and sending it crashing to the ground in a twisted heap of metal and circuitry. The snow around it hissed as the heat from its furnace melted it away, steam rising into the cold air.

Narro clamped her pistols away, feeling the weight of her sword’s hilt. She flicked her wrist, and her sword extended to its full length, the blade gleaming black with deadly intent. Around her, the Necron warriors were regrouping, their blue eyes glowing with cold, calculated fury. She turned to Gox, who was already in motion, his rebuilt form a blur of red and metal as he charged into the fray, wielding his cog-headed maul. His Skitarii followed, their galvanic rifles spitting death as they advanced. Narro joined them, her sword slicing through the air as she cut down the Necron warriors that dared to stand in her way.

The battle was fierce, the sun gleaming through the forest as Narro and her team fought with everything they had. But this time, Narro wasn’t just fighting for survival. She was fighting for something more—something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She was fighting for her future.

With a final, triumphant cry, Narro plunged her sword into the last of the Necron warriors, the blade sinking deep into its chest. The machine convulsed, its eyes flickering blue before the light faded, leaving only the silence of the frozen wasteland. Narro stood over the fallen Necron. The Helios Mantle vanishing as quickly as it came at her press of the hexagonal yellow button. Narro’s breath came in ragged gasps. The battlefield was quiet now, the only sound the soft crunch of snow beneath her boots. She looked up at the sun, still shining through the trees, and felt a warmth spread through her—something that went beyond the armour, beyond the battle.

It was peace.

She turned to Gox, who stood beside her, his heavy weapon still at the ready. For a moment, they simply looked at each other—as two survivors.

End