The ruins of Vael’Thalos swallowed sound like a grave.
Kael stood frozen, his breath steady but his body coiled, ready to strike. The woman before him remained motionless, the wind tugging at the edges of her dark cloak.
"You don’t know what you are, do you?" she had said.
The words echoed in his mind, gnawing at him. He didn’t know.
He didn’t know what the Mark had done to him, why the Imperium feared it so much, or why his body was no longer his own.
And now—this stranger.
His fingers twitched. He could still feel the raw strength pulsing beneath his skin, like a second heartbeat, a force waiting to be unleashed. If she was with the Imperium, he would kill her.
She must have sensed his hesitation. Slowly, she raised both hands.
"If I wanted to turn you in, you’d already be dead."
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Kael’s eyes flicked to her belt. No visible weapons. No armor. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice low.
The woman exhaled, as if deciding how much to say.
"A survivor," she said at last. "Like you."
Kael narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t an answer.
"You need to leave this place," she continued. "The Imperium is sending more than just soldiers after you. Do you think they’ll stop at Inquisitors?"
The hair on the back of Kael’s neck rose.
"What are they sending?" he demanded.
A long pause. Then—her voice dropped lower.
"Hounds."
A sharp chill ran through him.
The Hounds of the Imperium—they weren’t men. They weren’t even human.
"You have less than an hour," the woman said. "If you stay, you die."
Kael clenched his jaw. He wasn’t afraid of a fight. But this? He wasn’t ready for this.
He hated it—running, escaping like a fugitive. But what choice did he have?
Finally, he forced the words out. "Where do we go?"
The woman turned, her cloak shifting in the moonlight.
"Follow me."
Kael hesitated only a second longer. Then, without another word, he followed her into the shadows.
Behind them, in the farthest edges of the ruins, something stirred.
A deep, guttural growl.
The Hounds had arrived.