It was late in the lunch hour and Maylin was conversing with a random group of battle sisters she had met in the mess hall. At first the Sororitas were guarded against an outsider, but the preacher’s bubbly personality and apparent devotion towards Syrine soon relaxed and won them over.
They were chatting amicably when the preacher took the chance to state what was on her mind. ‘Rejoice sisters, we are all truly blessed! Just yesterday like many of you I was lucky enough to see the divine doves with my own eyes. By His will, together we should soon witness the canonization of a living saint. I was wondering if anyone has any interesting stories about the Holy Daughter to share?’
‘What is this about?’ A sister asked, a hint of wariness in her tone.
‘It is part of my duty to chronicle an emerging living saint’s many manifested miracles and deeds for posterity.’ Maylin spoke with a sense of purpose but her keenness was met with silence.
It was a short while before a battle sister spoke up. ‘Well, now that I think about it, I believe the Holy Daughter saved my life.’ The sudden confession surprised everyone around the table.
‘Sister, I would very much like to hear your story!’ Maylin responded quickly, her eyes sparkling with the enthusiasm found only on a true fan.
‘Sister Ephrien, I do not recall you ever having a direct interaction with the Holy Daughter,’ warned the sister superior at the table. ‘If this is an act of self-indulgence and your story turns out to be nothing but fabrication, you'll be confined to the cabin of solitude and made to copy the full Litany of Repentance three hundred times as penance!’
‘I am not saying she personally pulled me away from danger or anything like that, but hear me out,’ Sister Ephrien said calmly. ‘It happened yesterday when the heretics clashed with us. During the thickest fighting, two hostiles were suddenly registered to be very close to my position. I immediately turned my bolter in that direction but found myself pointing at a short wall obscured by some foliage.’
‘Damn targeter, I swear they are always glitching in the worst of times,’ laughed one of the sisters.
Ephrien shrugged and continued her tale. ‘That was my initial thought too. Just as I was about to move on, two heretics showed their heads and peeked over from that wall, exactly where I saw them to be and right into my iron sight.’
‘How convenient.’
‘Hey, I wasn’t going to question my blessings. Firing my bolter, I blew the head off from the first heretic and shot the other through the flimsy wall, then… BANG! Huge explosion.’
‘Throne’s blood!’
‘I think I heard that one, far left flank in the courtyard, right?’
‘Yes, I was at the left flank. Even with the main impact cushioned by the wall, I was thrown off my feet. Turns out the scums had krak grenades on them. If those bastards had managed to sneak up to me with those, I surely would be at His side right now.’
‘While I am glad you came out fine, what has this got to do with the Holy Daughter?’ Maylin asked, confused by the story.
‘You don’t get it, preacher,’ Sister Ephrien explained, ‘the targeting system in our helmet doesn’t work over solid objects. The fact that I saw those heretics before their ambush must have been a miracle. I had heard a few stories like this before experiencing it myself, it seemed to only happen when the Holy Daughter was around.’
‘Now that you mentioned it,’ another battle sister chimed in, ‘several times in the midst of battle, the heretics’ positions suddenly became astonishingly vivid in the readout. I avoided a few risky situations because of that.’
‘Wait, you experienced that too?’
Maylin watched in astonishment as the sisters around the table started sharing their strangely similar tales. Sister Ephrien thought for a moment before slowly untangling the prayer beads with a miniature symbol of the Ministorum that was tied to her glove.
The battle sister then held the symbol up with her hands, gave it a light kiss before looking at Maylin with fierce conviction. ‘Preacher, I stand by my account and swear by the Throne it contains no falsehood. As of now I truly believe it to be one of the Holy Daughter’s more… subtle blessings. It will be your duty to verify these claims.’
Maylin’s jaw dropped, she had been there when it all went down but had never contemplated on the possibility of missing out on miracles manifested right before her eyes.
* * *
I was having fun and did not realise lunchtime had arrived until I felt the pang of hunger on Welminah’s mind. Alicya on the other hand fared much better for being a battle sister.
Regardless I insisted the girls go take a quick lunch before we move on with further training. Since I was not feeling hungry at all and was still on a once per day meal arrangement, I didn’t join them. Usually this would be my library time, but there was little point in doing that anymore, plus it felt strange reading books while wearing power armour. In the end I decided to just go back to my room.
After returning to my not-so-humble lodging, I sat down and noticed the sturdiness of the furniture. The gothic chair was delicate-looking yet it handled the extra weight of my power armour without a squawk of protest.
I took off my helmet, putting it aside before pulling the back of my hair out from my bodyglove. My eyes were looking around and settled on one of the mirrors where a heavenly girl stared back, the sight of her silky platinum hair cascading down onto her colour matching dull silver armour was such a vision of other-worldly grace it took my breath away.
Is it because of the power armour or I am looking more and more like a living saint? As I sat there simply staring at my reflection, the disturbing vision from last night when my face was a featureless blur jumped at me, jolting my mind.
What was my face like back on Earth?
Strangely, even with my photographic memory I was having difficulty recalling my old face, all I could picture was a demi-goddess. It was still less than a month since I “took over”, but with the many things that happened since then, it felt like a few lifetimes had passed. Absentmindedly, I ran [Analytica] on myself. A familiar line of text appeared in my vision.
Name: Syrine, primarch minoris, psyker-passive mode, abnormal existence.
With bated breath I ran [Analytica] specifically on the abnormal existence, and like many attempts before this, my vision went blurry for a fraction of a second and all the text disappeared.
It will break you. I almost heard her words again.
I let out a soft sigh and settled down, then tried but failed to relax as my mind ran wild assessing the current situation. Being a person with a sedentary lifestyle in my past life, the notion of me actively pursuing physically demanding activities felt strange at first but I soon got used to and even learned to enjoy it.
That, and all of it felt necessary. A gut feeling had been constantly nibbling at the back of my mind, telling me another storm was brewing. Between the active Chaos cults with its leader on the move, the notorious Cardinal returning, the still missing mysterious Space Marines, and the hint of a daemonic grudge…there was no shortage of troubles in the near future.
The threats I knew about were bad enough. Yet, my experience from decades of stumbling through reality whispered another chilling truth: in this vast, unforgiving world, the most lethal threats usually lurked in the depths of unknown shadows, unseen and looming in places I wouldn’t even imagine exist.
From what was known to me from common lore, the abundant availability of options for tactical insertion in this era like drop pod assaults and teleporting strike forces was a thing. The ability for resourceful enemies to send elite super soldiers wearing armour as thick as a battle tank directly to your face was a reality, rendering the concept of “safe behind the frontline” an antiquated point. Primarch minoris or not I would be as good as dead if I was ever cornered by such attacks without the means to confront them, hence the need to quickly learn up on martial skills.
This was the grim dark universe after all, a place where direct and brutal confrontation was inevitable and rival battlefield commanders had an uncanny chance of settling their differences in a final “glorious melee combat”. I certainly would not fancy being caught up in such a scenario without having the skills and tools to deal with them.
I had for now learned to shoot and put on power armour. While having power armour was good for increasing the odds of surviving a battlefield, having the ability to fly would be much better for hightailing out of any danger, so getting jump pack training was another high priority for me. Besides, who didn’t dream of flying around by putting rockets on one’s back as a kid? On that note, anyone familiar with the grim dark universe will instantly recognise the Sororitas Seraphims from a glance. Power armoured ladies with jump packs that were shaped into angelic wings. What is not to like about them?
However, upon closer examination of what it took to create the Seraphims, the absurdity of it becomes glaringly apparent. In fact, the very concept of Seraphims teetered on the edge of pure insanity.
The Ecclesiarchy, or the Church, with the blessings of the Imperium, essentially chose the finest examples of ambidextrous individuals from the childbearing gender of our species for this role. The selected girls then underwent special forces-level training from a young age while being constantly indoctrinated with religious faith. Those who survived the brutal process were equipped with power armour and jump packs on their back, and then these girls were launched directly into battle to engage all manners of galactic monstrosities in close-quarters, pistol-range combat.
And that was essentially one of the most highly trained human military units a galactic spanning empire of humanity could offer. To meet the basic requirements for becoming a Seraphim, one must possess the dexterity of a ballerina and the base body strength of a weightlifter, adding being ambidextrous on top of that, it was simply well beyond the capabilities of an average human.
As I contemplated on the subject, the master records for past Seraphim trainees from the monastery’s library solidified in my mind, the convenience of it was a welcomed surprise. With the information available in my mental space, I went through with it and noted the chillingly substantial training injuries and dropout rate.
There was however no denying the winged ladies’ effectiveness, nor how glorious they looked on the field. The few times I personally witnessed them with their mastery of flight always left me with a sense of awe. Every single one of them was a man-sized lethal combination of fire power with proper protection and notable mobility.
As I daydreamed, my super human level senses picked up on approaching footsteps and their vibrations, a small crowd had come to visit. I sent Solace to open the door, and my visitors turned out to be Canoness Diadinah with all four of her palatines, Markeylla, Welminah and strangely, Balpradus again. Notably, everyone here knew my true identity as Daughter of the Emperor.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Upon seeing me in power armour, Diadinah’s usual icy facade melted and she smiled proudly. After the canoness bowed to me with the group, she moved in for a closer inspection, eyeing me up and down while beaming with a sort of motherly pride.
‘My lady, you look truly magnificent,’ Diadinah praised and the palatines nodded in agreement, with a few of them silently wondering why my armour was so plain-looking. Speaking of mind reading, I sensed a subtle tension, revealing that this wasn’t just a casual visit.
‘Thank you. Surely you all weren’t just here to see me in my armour?’ I asked, carefully keeping my tone friendly.
‘About that,’ Diadinah bowed again, and when she raised her head again her expression was grim. ‘Please enlighten us, are we to expect any major confrontations in the near future?’
Huh?
* * *
I found out an edict had just arrived from the Church. For the first time in four hundred years the Order of The Shining Beacon was formally ordered to expand and increase their ranks. That, coupled with my timing of “sudden interest” in martial training and putting on a power armour, had spooked the sisters. Naturally they speculated I had foreseen some serious troubles ahead.
While technically they were correct on that assumption, I was no Aeldari Farseer and had no prescience into the future. It was kind of awkward, after reconfirming with the sisters that I was preparing myself to avoid another weapon fumbling incident, everyone relaxed and the topic of discussion moved to my request for jump pack training. Due to the high risk nature of jump pack usage, while none had said it out loud the sisters were worried about the risks involved.
Imagine being held responsible for putting rockets on the back of the prophesied Holy Daughter, and sending her flying at literally breakneck speed into a cliff.
Magos Balpradus came in handy at this point and flexed his knowledge on the subject matter. ‘Omnissiah be my witness, I can guarantee that under standard atmospheric conditions on this planet, Lady Syrine’s hyper advanced biology could easily withstand terminal velocity impact with minimal ill effect. Such activities when done with the necessary precautions pose little threat to her well-being.’
What? In gaming terms, I am immune to fall damage?
While that sounded assuring coming from a tech-priest, I had no interest in ever trying that out myself. It also reminded me of an incident during the Horus Heresy where a traitor primarch survived multiple direct hits from Titan weaponry. Compared to that, the force of a relatively high speed collision did look puny in comparison.
‘Jump pack usage requires a thought control interface, will Lady Syrine be getting an augmentation?’ Sister Markeylla asked a surprising question. Now that she mentioned it, since well known “jump” units like Assault Space Marines and Sororitas Seraphims were usually depicted as carrying weapons with both hands, it was never really made clear how they controlled their jump pack.
‘Other than the demands of near instantaneous control and large-scale data transmission, that would not be necessary. A non-intrusive brain signal reader would suffice,’ Balpradus answered with the air of an expert before turning to me for confirmation. ‘That and unless my lady wishes to accept augmentations for maximum performance? I will gladly provide assistance if that is the case.’
Speaking of augmentations in this universe conjured the horrifying images of many primarchs and their warriors who embraced such body modifications during the crusade era. Those guys went all out on augmentics, basically retrofitting mechanical parts directly into their heads and bodies, then plugged in huge amounts of neural connectors and wires in the name of efficiency.
‘Not for now,’ I answered with a poker face. More like, not forever if I can help it.
The discussion then went to the vault, the Sororitas were somewhat excited since the final countdown to accessing it had begun. Being the typical devotees, the sisters had made a deal with Kryptorer on their rights to lay claim to anything of religious significance.
Welminah even took the chance and asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. ‘My lady, any idea on what we will find inside that vault?’
‘Sorry, there’s no improvement to my missing memory, so I really have no idea,’ I confessed with a shake of my head. ‘We will have to find out what’s inside together.’ Personally though I believed the odds of finding any religious treasures to be extremely low.
The impromptu meeting then ended with most of the visitors leaving. Alicya, Welminah, Sister Markeylla and Magos Balpradus had stayed behind to help with my next training program.
Surprisingly Markeylla once served as one of the winged ladies and qualified as a Seraphim trainee instructor. First thing we did was to test my compatibility with a brain decoder, a device that enabled jump packs to be controlled solely via brain signal, leaving the user’s hands free. I learned these came in many forms; it could be embedded in a hood, shaped into a headband, worn as a circlet, or built into the decorative iron halo that stood on the power pack.
To my relief the test revealed I had excellent compatibility with the device, rendering the heavy-handed approach of augmentics or implants unnecessary. Balpradus then left to personally procure and prepare my jump pack from the armoury, and I imagined Enginseer Hattie would not be too pleased with that.
We then followed Markeylla to a special large chamber where they had a lot of equipment specially used for the Seraphim training program. Arrangements were made so we had the place all to ourselves. Still in my power armour, I was put through the works, tested on body strength, grip strength, agility, sense of balance, general coordination, both aerobic and anaerobic endurance.
While the sisters made little comments on my tests, from what I read on their minds and the occasional awed facial expressions, I knew my scores were exceptional. Yours truly was not a human, after all.
The finale was a g-force tolerance test on a giant centrifuge. I was strapped to the contraption as it rotated at an ever increasing speed. After the seemingly terrifying maximum speed was reached, they had to stop the test for failing to determine my threshold for G-LOC, a point where the loss of consciousness occurred from excessive g-forces. With that done, I was deemed overqualified for the Seraphim programme.
Immediately starting my next phase of training, I was introduced to a gigantic indoor vertical wind tunnel that was used to simulate the free fall period during a jump pack operation. It was a huge thing, measuring 64 feet in width - large enough for a whole squad to practise free falling together - its main structure was made of a transparent material for easy viewing from the outside. While it looked like a dream playground for indoor skydivers, it was hellishly loud when turned on, to the point where normal humans would need to wear a helmet or hearing protection when practising inside it.
A non-operational Seraphim jump pack was then fitted onto the back of my power armour. Although made of relatively lightweight material, I felt a significant extra pull from the winged backpack. Markeylla also put on a mock jump pack for a live demonstration.
‘The aim of this exercise is to familiarise yourself with the air drag of having a jump pack on your back,’ Markeylla explained. ‘Try climbing with the air, and then diving, and repeat the process.’ She then put on her decorated helmet and dived into the huge column of rising air.
In the next moment she was ascending and descending seemingly at will by expertly controlling her pose. While being a total noob at the art of free falling, I nevertheless was able to quickly learn about its basics just by observing how she controlled her posture. The veteran sister continued her routine a few more times and performed a few tricks before dropping down to exit the wind tunnel.
‘Now you try, my lady,’ Markeylla said with a bow.
With my default mindset of being a couch potato still lingering at the back of my mind, I put on my helmet and stepped into the tunnel with trepidation. A huge gale of air pushed me from beneath. The roar of rushing air was audible through my helmet and suddenly my body was unshackled from the force of gravity, and I was floating.
It was a totally fresh yet familiar experience, similar to my “flight” during a psychic projection but with my consciousness staying in my physical body. It felt like… pure bliss.
I could not help but smile at the liberating sensation. Due to having a pair of wings fixed to my back, the odd aerodynamic profile of myself riding the rising air did take a short while to get used to. Eventually I got the hang of it and was able to climb up and down the column of air, albeit in a boring fashion.
As I floated around wondering what to do next, a book materialised in my mind, titled “Soaring on Wings of Faith and Fire”, a chronicle written by Sister Silvael who was one of the most prominent Seraphim during the Order’s long history. Her most notable feat was leading a descent from high altitude and intercepting a rebel bomber squadron. Such was her skill that she was able to drop near the lead flyer to deliver a fatal blow, breaking the squadron’s formation just before their bombing run.
Within the span of a heartbeat, Silvael’s many chronicled tips and tricks on her decades of expert jump pack usage flashed before my mind, prompting me to immediately try them out. I quickly went through a series of standard tricks like back flying, daffy and carving with no difficulties. Wanting a challenge, I decided to just test the limits of my body control by trying one of the hardest known diving moves mentioned in the book, a personalised version of the head down carving.
After rising to the top of the tunnel, I brought my head down and aligned my body vertically. The rush of air intensified with its muffled roar rising inside my helmet as my body became a streamlined missile that cut through the wind. The sensation was indescribable, a mix of sheer thrill and power.
Descending like an aerial predator, I initiated the carve dive with a slight tilt of my head and shoulders. Instantly, I felt the change in air flow, guiding me into a spiralling descent. My body rotated smoothly, and the ground beneath me started to spin, creating an exhilarating panorama where the horizon became a constantly shifting line, always tilting and spinning. I carved down the air column while imitating Sister Silvael’s signature pose shown in her book, with my arms close to my sides, hands flat and my legs slightly apart, toes pointed to top.
Feeling the delicate balance of aerodynamics, I adjusted my posture minutely, every movement precise and deliberate as I steered my dive in a spiralling motion of controlled chaos. It was understood from Silvael’s notes that with jump pack usage and proper practice this move could be performed to create an erratic flight path that was capable of avoiding incoming small arms fire.
The world below became a blur as my rotation sped up, and my vision morphed into a kaleidoscope of lights, colours and shapes. Between the rapid rotations, I caught glimpses of the sisters who were watching me.
The expression on their faces… a mixture of bewilderment and anxiety? Time to stop playing.
I brought my arms out to the sides for drag, and arched my back to slow down. The transition from head-down to belly-to-earth was smooth, and almost felt well-rehearsed for me despite this being my first attempt. The air resistance greatly increased as I controlled my posture to decelerate before landing and exited the tunnel. The sisters walked up to me as I took off my helmet.
‘How was that?’ I asked, being quite proud but still a bit unsure about my maiden dive performance.
‘My lady, was that Sister Silvael’s Spiral of Faith?’ Markeylla asked.
‘Yes. Was it close?’
‘Very much so, that’s a very …arduous manoeuvre barely mastered by half of the seasoned Seraphims in our Order.’ Markeylla answered, her stoic facade barely containing the awe in her mind.
Oops. I might have pushed all my cheats too hard to pull that off.