On Kamino, the laboratories hummed at a frantic pace, their icy, perfect efficiency dedicated to a single project. The chief Kaminoan greeted Julius and his group, its long neck bowing with procedural courtesy.
Julius indicated Lor'ala, silent and erect at his side. "Take her DNA. Verify if you can multiply it, perfect it."
The Kaminoans set to work. Meanwhile, Julius connected to the System. "System, provide me with sufficient quantities of vibranium and adamantium."
Then he turned to Professor Stetmann, who was already excitedly fiddling with a DNA sample. "Egon, you have the Interceptor javelin blueprints. Modify the leg structure for a natural human morphology, but retain all the agility and power. They will wear a base suit of vibranium weave for shock absorption and stealth, and the external armor will be adamantium for absolute protection."
---
Six Months Later.
The observation room overlooked a vast creche. Standing before the transparisteel viewport, Lor'ala watched. Below her, more than three thousand young women, perfect in body and face, trained with a disturbing grace and silence. Each bore Lor'ala's magnificent visage, but rejuvenated, idealized. They were her daughters. The Daughters of Silence of the Braveheart Legion.
To preserve their mystery and collective identity, they would wear personalized helmets, erasing all individuality behind the uniformity of the void they embodied.
Their starting abilities, inspired by the Interceptor but adapted to their nature, were terrifying:
· Double-Bladed Daggers: A lethal melee ability, perfect for psychic nulls operating at close quarters.
· Seeker Glaive: An intelligent projectile that automatically hunts the nearest Warp presence.
· Acid Bomb: A grenade that liquefies flesh and corrupts even daemonic energies.
· Cryo Glaive: A cryogenic attack capable of freezing up to two targets, leaving them vulnerable.
· Cluster Mine: A volley of mines sensitive to immaterial presence, trapping areas against pursuers.
· Spark Dash: An electrical rush leaving a wake of energy disruptive to the Warp.
Their mere presence, combined with these weapons, expanded and reinforced their aura of void, creating bubbles of psychic nullity where sorcery sputtered out and daemons disintegrated.
Lor'ala turned to Julius. In her gaze, he saw a new determination. She was no longer the dying survivor. She was the Mother Superior of this new legion. She pointed to four of her daughters, who stepped forward. They were identical to the others, but their posture radiated an even more pronounced aura of power and serenity.
"They are yours," Lor'ala communicated through a simple sign, a language she had developed with Julius. A gift. An offering of supreme loyalty.
Julius was visibly shocked, a rare moment of discomposure on his usually controlled face. "To accept your daughters as a gift..." he murmured, blushing slightly despite himself.
Lor'ala inclined her head, confirming her intent. It was an ancient tradition, a gift of blood and service that irrevocably bound their fates.
He accepted.
The four women were breathtakingly beautiful, their allure heightened by their null nature. Their armor, of a deep midnight blue, was forged not from standard adamantium, but from beskar, the indestructible metal, treated to produce no resonance in the Warp. They wore long cloaks of vibranium weave that absorbed any energy directed against them. At their hips were finely crafted beskar swords. Their only personal touch: short hair, cut in a martial style and dyed a brilliant silver that contrasted with their cold eyes and pale skin.
Their planet of origin, their mother's tomb, was renamed. Mnemos-7 would no longer be a place of death, but the cradle and fortress of the Legion of the Void. A new power was born in the shadows, a silent blade forged to slit the throats of the gods themselves.