It was ten minutes after the Sororitas battle convoy had embarked from their monastery to the scholastica, and Welminah was swaying to the motion of a Rhino armoured transport as it thundered towards the combat zone.

As a non-combatant, Welminah was given one of the innermost seats, just beside the entrance to the driver’s compartment. Sitting across her was a grim-faced Maylin who they picked up just before leaving.

Moments earlier Maylin had shown up last minute at the staging area, somehow catching wind of the situation. The preacher had quickly kicked up a fuss as she demanded to come along. Dominae had considered leaving the Ministorum representative behind, and the palatine had even quietly consulted with Welminah about the possible repercussions for such an action that bordered on outright insubordination against the Church.

In a decision that Welminah herself was unsure of being pragmatic or sympathetic for Maylin, she advised against it. Silently Welminah suspected it came down to the fact she could not imagine herself being left out of something like this.

So the scholar and the priest eventually shared the same ride together with Dominae and her retinue of Celestian squad. The stern-faced elite sisters paid little heed to the pair of non-combatants, their dull silver power armour and cold optics flickering in the dim interior light, cold metals clicking as they checked and rechecked their many sanctified weapons.

Palatine Dominae was seated furthest away from Welminah, just beside the rear access ramp as per the Sororitas tradition of being the first to step into a battlefield as the leader. Eyes closed and arms crossed, Dominae was motionless while her vox unit buzzed constantly with tactical updates.

Just as Welminah had started to drift off, Dominae’s eyes suddenly snapped open and she started speaking into her vox. Too far away to hear the palatine’s conversation, Welminah’s mind nevertheless started darting around, imagining the worst scenarios.

Is she getting some bad news? Did anything happen to Lady Syrine? No, no, that’s not possible, she’s…a miniature primarch after all! It is not like those damned heretics can be more dangerous than a greater daemon. Dominae looks so serious though, but then again, she always looks serious…

‘Sister Welminah, Preacher Maylin.’ Being suddenly addressed by Dominae jolted Welminah to attention, and what the palatine said next surprised her further.

‘Would any of you like to join a forward strike force? The inquisition is kind enough to divert their gunship for us to deliver a team straight into the scholastica. I am commanding the convoy so I won’t be going. If you are keen…’

‘I am going!’ Maylin raised her hands in response before Dominae finished her words.

Somehow the idea that the preacher was more devoted than herself irritated Welminah. Raising her hand, she responded the only way possible.

‘I am going too!’

* * *

The world around me descended into utter mayhem after I dropped my “holy flashbang” grenade attack.

What was intended to be a brief distraction ended up a hell lot more effective than I anticipated. Whether they were wounded by my grenades or not, almost all the cultists in my vicinity were shrieking in agony. I read intense emotions of terror, confusion and regret from their minds, and any semblance of military discipline they had previously displayed had vanished without a trace.

In the midst of the pandemonium Mokitarr screamed and swung at me with his shotgun, using it as an improvised club. Things slowed down as I focused on the cultist captain, he was not incapacitated like the others despite receiving my psychic blast at point blank range, proving himself to be made of sterner stuff.

Still it was clear that he was severely affected as blood was streaming down from his nose and his eyes were closed. I easily avoided his desperate attack, then retaliated by smashing his right arm just below the shoulder pad, something broke with a gruesome snap. Mokitarr let out a muted screech and dropped his massive shotgun.

I reached out before the weapon even hit the floor, grabbed the heretic leader by his throat and almost instantly regretted it. Not only was his skin rough and sweaty to the touch, it came with an odd sensation that felt off.

Eww.

Despite being still in shock, Mokitarr displayed impressive reflexes by immediately pulling out a serrated combat knife with his left hand and slashed out. His movements flowed so seamlessly that I could easily envision them honed through a lifetime of deadly bouts, the sinister-looking weapon was even coated with a thin layer of unknown liquid. Poisoned blade? This guy is a real nasty piece of work.

Unfortunately for the heretic captain, while he was remarkably fast for a human, his opponent was a mini godling and in my view his knife was moving at a snail’s pace. I casually intercepted the attack with a right hand chop onto his wrist, breaking more bones and causing him to let out a muffled scream of pain before dropping the knife.

After losing both weapons Mokitarr finally overcame his temporary blindness and got a good look at me, his eyes widened with disbelief as he uttered, ‘the false saint?’

Huh, so they even have a nickname for me.

While our clash took only a few seconds, a few nearby cultists turned shakily to me with weapons raised.

Too slow.

I quickly lifted Mokitarr up despite his protests, and swung him like a living club to smash the nearest combatants away, probably breaking something else in the process as he fainted after that.

That done, it was time to go and face the second biggest hurdle of my plan - the question of whether my shroud would work while carrying an extra person. While having no idea on the limitations of this ability, I was cautiously optimistic and consigned this to a fifty fifty chance of luck. In gaming terms, it was a roll of 4+ out of a 6 sided dice.

I lifted the motionless Mokitarr and placed him unceremoniously over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then dismissed my halo to activate shadow walk. The odd sensation of something off hit me again and… nothing happened. No shadow walk.

Come on! For the love of -

Half panicking, I looked around and noted the cultists were slowly recovering from their shock. Shroud or not it was time to move. Since I would be running back without shadow walk, my allies needed to be notified incase of friendly fire.

With a flick of my mind, I connected myself to our open channel and spoke into the comms. ‘Sisters! Be advised, I am coming back…’

‘Lady Syrine? Where did you go?’ Alicya cut in, sounding uncharacteristically anxious.

‘Location tracker shows you are somehow in the front,’ Thaberus interrupted with a flabbergasted tone, ‘don’t tell me you just went in and apprehended the leader?’

Location tracker? I was puzzled for a split second before noticing a faint signal emanating from my new earpiece, a built-in feature.

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‘Yes, I am returning with a prisoner. Don’t shoot.’ I cut the link and started my journey back. Silently praying my prisoner would survive the short trip, I readied myself for the gauntlet and sent out [Auspex] to check the situation in the long corridor.

What I saw shocked me.

The Sororitas were charging over, heedless of the overwatch fire about to be laid down by the entrenched enemy rear guards. Fortunately most of these guys were still distracted by the unusual commotion behind them and were slow to react, but by now they had finally noticed the sisters and hurriedly started shooting.

Oh no you don’t!

With Mokitarr still over my shoulder I dashed through the corridor, covering a huge distance in two quick leaps and crashing at full speed into a two men heavy weapons team camping at the very end. I landed with a solid kick on an individual who had just fired a few shots of his heavy stubber at the oncoming sisters. The man’s life ended with a sickening crunch and the momentum sent his body over the barricade.

His companion cursed and came at me with a bayonet. In my heightened state I saw the blade coming at a snail’s pace and noted his speed, or the severe lack of it.

You have no chance.

With my free hand I backhanded my attacker’s face before his bayonet travelled half the distance needed to reach me, and an appalling sensation from my hand informed me that more than teeth were sent flying. The impact violently rotated the man’s head well beyond the turning limit of his neck, and he was already dead before hitting the ground.

Sorry not sorry for showing no mercy.

All around me the cultists had started cracking their weapons at the rushing sisters and rounds could be seen bouncing off their power armour. Desperate to stop them from shooting my girls, I looked around before landing my sights on the heavy stubber mounted in front of me.

Just need to aim and pull the trigger, right?

I dropped Mokitarr and quickly picked up the massive gun from its mount. A stubber was similar to a .50 calibre heavy machine gun, and while normally it would be unfeasible for a single person to wield the weapon unmounted, I had my transhuman strength to make it work.

Pointing the weapon at the nearest cultists, I pulled the trigger of a real firearm for the first time in my life. The stubber roared to life as the recoil started kicking into my hands, my shots landed close but did not hit any targets.

My disappointing first salvo however had spooked the cultists, and immediately a few of them turned to point their guns at me. While the odds of me dying to small arms fire was slim to none, the sheer desperation of the moment was catching on to me.

In time dilated slow motion I saw an impending disaster; the sisters were still rushing over as most of the cultists were lining up their shots behind heavy cover, and terrible mental images of Alicya and the sisters being killed due to my inability flashed before my mind.

Pressured, something in me snapped.

Like in a trance I aimed to shoot again, but this time my body automatically adjusted to compensate for the recoil observed earlier. My aim went downwards, I took a proper stance, held a tighter grip, my breathing stopped to reduce movement and - headshot.

The head of a cultist closest to pulling his trigger on me exploded like an abused watermelon, and the splattering of brain matter stunned his nearby comrades.

What the-

Before I realised what just happened my aim had already moved onto the next imminent threats, my finger lightly pressing the trigger each time I felt a lock on my target.

Headshot, headshot and headshot.

I watched in equal parts fascination and horror as the heads of my enemies started exploding one after another, like some after party balloons popping ritual in one of those many annual dinners from a lifetime ago. Gun blazing with hit after hit, I seemed to instinctively know where my bullets would land like it was the surest thing.

Is this how Ballistic Skill 2+ feels like in real life?

An instant later I was shooting my weapon like an action hero from a classic blockbuster movie, firing a ridiculously large gun at full auto but somehow consistently hitting my marks.

The cultists panicked and cowered for their lives but there were little places to hide from my terrifying barrage. The barrel of my gun flashed repeatedly, spent bullet casing rained one after another from my stubber as I rapidly switched between targets, landing most if not all my shots like an aimbot cheater on the hapless heretics.

By the time the sisters and the inquisitor reached me, I had spent almost all the ammunition in my massive gun and single handedly took out the entire rear guards, leaving them dead or dying on the floor.

‘My Lady!’ Alicya was the first to reach, she flipped her helmet visor and hurriedly checked on me, anxiety written plainly over her beautiful face. My hearts were pounding, more for being in a heightened state than physical exertion.

‘I am… fine,’ I forced a half smile, my mind still reeling from what had just happened. For a second I considered reprimanding Alicya for her decision on simply rushing over, but then I recalled how during the great crusade era Astartes of the old legions seemed to have the same habit of disregarding everything else when it came to safety issues concerning their father primarchs.

I… need to consider this tendency of theirs in future events.

Seeing that everyone had their eyes on me, I dropped the heavy stubber which had become warm to the touch and picked up Mokitarr from the ground.

‘I got the heretic captain right here,’ I announced with a tone way calmer than what I was experiencing inside. The inquisitor and the sisters looked at my prisoner and my handy work, stunned for words. From their minds I could tell most of them were quite confused as to what just happened.

‘And you said you don’t know how to use a gun,’ Thaberus finally remarked as he surveyed the freshly created slaughterhouse around us. Looking at the scene of butchery that was of my own creation, I felt a deep chill as the Emperor’s cold words rang in my head again.

You are a weap- No, no, you back the hell off.

I pushed that uneasy notion out of my mind and answered Thaberus. ‘That was the first time in my memory I fired a gun.’ My comment simply earned another subtle “for real?” look from the silent inquisitor.

Feeling a bit sick of excessive real life violence at this point, I turned to Alicya while motioning to the far end, ‘I am leaving the rest of them to you.’

The palatine snapped to attention and gave her command. ‘Sororitas, forward!’ With that the sisters continued pushing forwards to do what they do best.

‘Try leaving one or two alive,’ Thaberus reminded as the sisters moved past. I watched them go and heaved a sigh of relief.

Just as I felt like finally patting my own back for a job well done, a strange sensation came over from my captive. I turned to Mokitarr and found him conscious but shivering with more blood trickling down from his mouth and nose.

Despite looking exceedingly unwell, Mokitarr was staring at me with an inhuman amount of hatred. Even without mind reading, his eyes told me what he was thinking.

You will never get anything from me.

‘Something is wrong.’ I turned to Thaberus who was already on the task. The inquisitor quickly removed the heretic’s helmet and checked on him.

After a brief examination Thaberus dropped his expert opinion. ‘Suicide pill. Probably a unique cocktail stored in a false tooth and just activated. He will expire soon, there is not much we can do.’

‘So he is already a dead man?’ Feeling let down by the sudden development, I wanted to be sure.

‘Pretty much,’ Thaberus nodded, ‘I suggest you probe his mind as extensively as possible with his remaining time.’ His statement sounded doubly grim as weapons started cracking again in the background.

‘Very well, I will see what we can learn,’ I said while powering up. Again the nearby psychic souls flared up but I ignored them, my focus was on this important task at hand. It would be like the mental interrogation I did with the space marine, but this time with no consideration of the subject’s well-being.

I put the dying heretic captain in a sitting position with his back on a barricade before squatting down to touch his forehead. It felt strange, for a man who was at death’s door, there was a lot more resistance than expected. Intrigued, I observed the flow of my energy through him and soon discovered the reason.

Moving quickly, I took off the metallic Chaos symbol that was hanging around the heretic’s neck and tossed it aside. That emblem was more than just a trinket, it was providing a level of protection from psychic activity. Which made sense, he was assaulting an imperial psyker institution after all. It might be the reason why my shadow walk did not work just now.

I attempted mind reading by touching Mokitarr’s forehead again, and this time there was little resistance.

+Hello again,+ I said directly in the heretic leader’s mind and his eyes widened upon hearing my voice in his head. Mokitarr seemed to understand my intentions and tried to struggle, but by this point the lethal poison had taken its toll and he was too weak to resist.

I looked at him closely, in his eyes my own reflection was staring back, eyes gleaming with golden shine and looking a lot less friendly than usual.

+You brought this upon yourself,+ I informed Mokitarr before tapping into my powers for an aggressive mind dive.

The world went white as I slipped into his synapses.