It was early in the morning, the sun was just rising.
After dropping Xalma at the Scholastica Psykana, I returned to the fortress monastery. Both trips were speedy, courtesy of Amael's gunship. A few of the Battle Sisters guarding the landing pad were visibly confused when they saw me coming down from my ride. As I walked away, my acute hearing caught them quietly asking one another whether anyone had noticed my earlier departure.
I entered my private suite that was yet to be breached by sunlight. The place lay in quiet stillness, and what was near pitch darkness to humans was rendered into a world of cold, night-vision greys by my transhuman eye sight. Not bothering to turn on the lights, I hung up the Cloak of Refraction before grabbing a fresh set of white robes and undergarments from my suitcase, then headed straight to the giant bathroom for a quick shower.
As the high pressure shower head turned on in the dark, unheated water pummeled my body with an odd sensation. What should have been freezing water instead just felt merely chilly to my physiology, but the abrupt change of temperature was enough to give me a mental jolt. I looked at the huge mirror and could not help but appreciate the reflection, even the faint silhouette that appeared in the twilight screamed inhuman perfection.
But why does a demi-goddess appear petite and frail when all her brothers were towering gods of war?
After my shower was done, I returned to the living quarters and with telekinesis flipped on the air conditioning units and a single table lamp in a far corner. The overdecorated gothic lamp lit up with a weak yellow glow, covering the place with a dim warm hue as the air cons hummed to life. Winding down, I sat on a sofa and brooded alone in my suite. Solace was absent, currently borrowed by the vault guardian Triax. A check on the ancient chronometer made me wonder if Tollian had reached his new employment by now.
Normally Welminah would have been awake and present around this time, but she probably had slept through the night due to exhaustion from the extended stay at the vault. As for me, despite having not slept for the past nights, even with all the excitement, I felt neither fatigue nor any hint of ill-effect.
That was to be expected; it was mentioned that the average Astartes could remain in active combat for a week straight without sleeping and still operate at near peak efficiency, so this was nothing to me. In my former life, I had reached an age where every lost hour of sleep demanded its full price, to miss a few hours of sleep would mean hardly being able to keep my eyes open after lunch the next day, so the contrast in experience was glaring.
While last night's adventures provided a good distraction, now that I was alone again the initial reasons that had pushed for my escapade silently rose to the forefront of my mind again, with the extra caveat that I now knew about that mental seal inside my head.
Despite my supposedly "imba" status, as a long time enthusiast of the grim dark universe I knew better of the limitations of my powers, I would wager any of the true top dogs could squash me like a bug in a straight fight. The more I thought about my circumstances, the more I had the sudden urge of ditching everything to run to "big brother" Primarch Roboute Guilliman who must have just awakened at this point. Unrivalled in military might, the Primarch of Ultramarines always had a legion's worth of Space Marines under his direct command. As for blessings, Guilliman was later proven to be under the protection of the God-Emperor, being canonically revived by Big-E Himself when the primarch fell in battle during the Plague War that happened in a near future. If we met up and Guilliman recognised me as a long lost sibling, staying under his protection might be the safest place in the Imperium.
If I run… My thoughts went to the people I would bring along and that immediately led to Xalma. In both my past and present lives, she was the first child whose well-being I somehow felt to be my responsibility. She didn't appear thrilled with the scholastica, that much was understandable given the nature of that place. Despite the special treatment she must have received from being directly associated with me, I couldn't help but keep thinking about her wellbeing.
It is how being a parent feels like?
After a brief moment of internal struggling, I decided to see her while testing my latest trick. Closing my eyes, I slumped down on the sofa while invoking the projection psykana. My consciousness detached from my body and flew towards the scholastica in one fluid motion.
The morning cityscape flashed past below me with incredible speed and before long the Scholastica Psykana came into view. I slowed down and floated around first. It didn't take long to pinpoint Xalma's whereabouts inside the massive complex, the glare of her unique soulfire was amongst the brightest in the place.
Now for the self-taught trick I had been practicing during my downtime after that embarrassing incident. The idea was inspired by Malcador the Sigillite, the legendary uncle figure to many of the Primarchs. An immensely powerful psyker in his own right, Malcador served as the right hand of the Emperor of Mankind during the Imperium's golden age, effectively running the empire whenever Big-E was occupied elsewhere. It was said that Malcador could shift his consciousness across vast distances with a method that was described as extending a "mind's eye", subtly observing everything.
First I looked inwards and started peeling away the mental impression of having a body. My sensation of self shrank until it became a single, quiet point. There was a mental stillness required to the process, like sinking beneath cold water without making a ripple. I then compressed my psychic presence onto itself, smoothing rough edges, trimming emotional residue, until what remained was barely more than intent, a pinprick of awareness. I became a drifting dot of awareness, like a pale spark riding the currents between realities, barely a sliver of psychic blip.
That done, I moved effortlessly towards Xalma's unique psychic resonance, slipping through multiple physical walls, skimming over crude defensive wards and drifting past sentries like dust without alerting anyone. Eventually I entered one of the rooms and found the child being held alone inside, her weariness and unease palpable. After confirming she was only under basic surveillance, I drifted closer and settled lightly onto her shoulder before trying to communicate. In my current limited form, however, I wondered if my telepathy would be little more than a faint murmur in her mind.
+Hello, it is me. Just nod if you can hear me.+
After momentarily being surprised, Xalma lightly nodded but whispered her doubts. 'Syrine? How do I know if it is really you?'
+That tall and handsome Amael is not my boyfriend.+
That almost made the child laugh out loud with a burst of emotions, but in a show of remarkable restraint she managed to hold it in and only let out a silent giggle.
+I know it is not easy. Be strong, I will be checking on you from time to time.+ I assured her, and she smiled before nodding again.
I left the room, and after getting my bearings, headed towards the resonance of another familiar soul—Gideyn, the boy who once ran to me for help. While drifting there, I almost crossed paths with a few psykers. Leading the group was Lady Dracinah, the current head of the facility. I immediately floated upwards. According to what was popularised by super heroes comics, unless given a reason humans by default tended not to look up. Just as I reached the ceiling, Dracinah and her group passed below me while having a discussion.
'If our latest star aspirant goes on a rampage, will the wards hold?' Dracinah asked, apparently talking about Xalma.
'While that shouldn't be an issue, further reinforcement is highly recommended,' one of her advisors replied.
'Agreed,' said another person, 'she's barely contained as it is, going forward her strength would only increase.'
'Then the order is given,' Dracinah said, 'I want everything around her lodging reinforced, and have Agent Z relocate to a closer vicinity for extra security…'
After the group went away, I continued my journey and soon reached the destination. Alone in his holding cell, I found Gideyn eating breakfast. Still under probation with extra restraints, the chains on his wrists clanked softly with every movement as he wolfed down what appeared to be a bowl of nutrient porridge.
I took a closer look at the unappetising food and remembered Fulton's words. The catering here could indeed use some upgrade, but otherwise the boy appeared to be fine. With the purpose of my visit done I drifted for the exit. As soon as I was outside, the recall of my consciousness was triggered. Like a fully extended, super-sized measuring tape snapping back into its casing, my awareness recoiled and retracted into my body in a heartbeat, just in time for me to register approaching footsteps.
From the sounds of it I could tell it was Welminah, the sonic resonance along the corridor fitting the profile of her mass and usual footwear, additionally the quick rhythmic footfalls hinted at some nervousness. The Sister probably woke up to a report delivered to her secured data-slate by Herlindya. I imagined her running in half-panic straight over here after being updated.
Welminah would soon reach the main door of my suite, and to my irritation I realized I could not open the door with Solace in the usual manner. Not feeling like getting up, I decided to cheat. Before the Sister could knock, I reached out with telekinesis and opened the door for her.
'Come in,' I called out.
Welminah stepped into my place. 'Good morning, my lady.'
'Morning.'
Welminah gingerly approached and appeared to have difficulty seeing me. I was wondering what was going on before recalling the unconventional lighting of my room might be too much for her standard human eyesight.
'Kindly turn on the lights,' I said, and Welminah obliged and went to switch on the primary illuminations of my place. After the lights came on, the Sister blinked a few times before giving me a bow.
'My lady, Cardinal Paudinith has returned. He will probably summon you very soon. Canoness Diadinah and the others are on their way here for a quick discussion.'
'I see.'
Welminah then held up her data-slate. On it was a classified report about yesterday night, I even saw a self-deleting timer counting down on the corner. The Sister pointed at the screen of her device and asked, 'in the meantime, might I inquire if all this really happened yesterday night?'
'Yes.'
Welminah's usual stoic expression cracked a little. 'My lady, why would you leave the monastery in the middle of the night to go to the city alone?'
Because—I almost started to explain myself but stopped, the issue was too complicated. Instead I chose to be vague. 'Sorry, I have my reasons which I won't disclose.'
A hint of realisation flashed across Welminah's face, and she bowed deeply again. The Sister's next words were spoken in an almost shaky voice. 'My deepest apologies for speaking out of line, and not being present last night.'
While I was wondering on how to respond to her abrupt apology, my super human hearing picked up on more visitors approaching. I waved my hand at the apologetic Sister. 'I place no blame on you. The others are almost here, please answer the door.'
Welminah bowed again before going to the door, and it was only then did she realise Solace was nowhere to be seen. Her puzzled look about how the door had opened for her earlier was low key hilarious. As I contemplated how my entertainment seemed to have devolved to childish amusement with psychic pranks, Welminah came back with a small crowd in tow. Leading the group was Canoness Diadinah, who was flanked by Sister Markeylla and three Palatines including Alicya. Only Dominae, who was still outside, was absent.
Then there was Thaberus, the Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor entered my suite with the certainty of a man of absolute authority. Instead of his usual trench coat, today he wore a long coat of deep blue, tailored to a severe military line that fell just below the knee. The coat's structured shoulders and tapered waist lent him a controlled, menacing silhouette. Beneath the coat was a jet-black high-collared shirt of unknown material that lay immaculate against his muscular frame, fastened at the throat by a metal clasp engraved with the Inquisitorial "I". Dark, precisely cut trousers flowed cleanly into polished black leather boots that were subtly scarred from seasoned usage. Missing too was the signature hat, instead the man's exposed hair was slicked straight back from the forehead without a single stray strand.
Behind Thaberus stood Herlindya and Niandra. Other than the slight showing of dark eye circles for staying up the whole night, Herlindya looked immaculate in her semi-form fitting tactical outfit. Niandra looked the same as always and gave me an almost imperceivable nod when our eyes met for the briefest moment.
Finally there was Magos Balpradus and his servo-skulls as the sole representative from the Mechanicus.
After everyone occupied a place and bowed to me who sat on a sofa in the centre, Thaberus spoke first. 'My lady, do you mind enlightening us about your abrupt excursion last night?'
Meeting up to everyone's gaze, I thought for a moment before realising it was better to just let the smart guy cook. After giving the inquisitor a meaningful look, I kicked the ball back to him. 'I have my reasons, but surely you have an idea?'
Thaberus returned a stare before answering. 'I was informed the child psyker you rescued is amongst the most potent individuals the institute has seen. A catastrophe could have occurred if the situation had escalated given her level of power. Fortunately, that was avoided.'
Welminah seemed surprised by the inquisitor's statement. 'Was it that serious?'
Thaberus nodded. 'The worst-case scenario would have been the psyker becoming possessed, leading to a warp breach similar to the incident at Gatha Vault on Heliovar IX. I have no doubt that Lady Syrine's timely intervention may have saved tens of thousands of lives. That said, I believe we would all greatly appreciate prior notification before you resort to such… unorthodox methods.'
That's my exit ramp. I nodded in response. 'My apologies for not immediately involving you all in this. I wasn't sure how things would turn out.'
'My lady.' Diadinah bowed before speaking, 'I implore you to never hesitate in commandeering us, we are here to serve His will through your chosen course of actions.'
'As do we of the Mechanicus, my lady. You just have to say the word.' Balpradus voiced up with a bow.
One for faith, the other for STCs.
'Thank you, Diadinah, Balpradus. I will remember that,' I replied.
'At any rate, the crushing of that criminal organisation was a side bonus, interrogations are underway to apprehend the mastermind behind it,' Thaberus concluded.
There was a weak chime and that prompted Welminah to check on her data-slate. 'An instruction has arrived from the Church regarding your outfit for the meeting...' the Sister scholar said before she gasped with a hint of anger. Surprised by her reaction. I mentally connected to her data-slate with my ability and peeked at the instructions. This was my supposedly first appearance to the public, so I was interested as well to what sort of image the Church would want me to portray.
It was a long list of DON'Ts and a very short list of DOs. No regal outfit. No armor. No weapons. Off-white robe only, basically the whole "Marks of Humility" package. It was almost like preparing a photo op that aimed to remind people who was in charge. But hey, it was almost what I wore daily but off-white instead of white. Luckily there were a few off-white robes in Syrine's collection.
When Welminah showed the instructions to the rest, it was mostly met with silent disapproval.Thaberus gave me a long look before asking, 'are you agreeing with that?'
I shrugged. As a normie at heart, the art of higher levels politicking was totally beyond me. For the time being I also saw no point of clashing with the cardinal. There was another muted chime and this time it was Sister Markeylla who took out a data-slate and checked on it.
'Priority message for you, Canoness.' The Celestian Superior said as she respectfully handed the device over. Diadinah took the data-slate, looked at the screen and her expression stiffened.
'A contingent of Battle Sisters have returned with the cardinal.' Said the Canoness with a raised eyebrow. 'They are from our founding Order—the Order of Our Martyred Lady.'