Lilith’s vision snapped back into focus, the oppressive silence of the void shattering as the chaotic sounds of war rushed in. The cacophony of bolter fire, Ork roars, and the screams of the dying assaulted her senses, disorienting her. She gasped, gulping the smoky, acrid air of the battlefield as her heart raced.

The blood-soaked mud clung to her boots as she stumbled forward, her legs unsteady beneath her. Her lasgun, once gripped tightly in her hands, lay discarded somewhere in the chaos. Around her, the few remaining Guardsmen of the Armageddon Steel Legion fought on, grim and determined, though it was clear that their last stand was nearly over. The massive Ork horde surged like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf what little remained of their defense.

It was carnage. The once orderly ranks of the Imperial Guard were broken, scattered like debris from a storm. Bodies littered the ground, a grotesque patchwork of human and Ork remains. The scent of burning flesh, charred metal, and promethium filled the air, choking Lilith’s lungs. She struggled to catch her breath, but it felt as though the battlefield itself was pressing down on her, smothering her under its weight.

In the midst of this maelstrom, something else stirred within her; something foreign and yet, paradoxically, deeply familiar. A sensation like fire flowed through her veins, coiling around her spine, threatening to consume her from the inside out. It was her psychic power, barely restrained and now unleashed for the first time in the crucible of battle.

Lilith's hands trembled but not from fear, but from the searing intensity of the energy she could feel building inside her. Her thoughts raced as she tried to comprehend what was happening. The power she had felt in her confrontation with the Ork Nob was no fluke; it was real, and it was hers. It was something from the Warp, a dangerous and unpredictable force, flowed through her, responding to her emotions, to her very will.

But it was too much. The weight of it bore down on her, and she felt the pulse of the Immaterium threatening to overwhelm her, like a dam straining to hold back a flood. Her skin tingled, her muscles twitched, and a low, dull throb began to build behind her eyes.

This is what Eve meant, Lilith thought, her mind racing. This power… it’s real. But it could destroy me.

The dying screams of a Guardsman nearby snapped her focus back to the battlefield. The young soldier; a boy, really, no older than eighteen was dragged from the barricade by a hulking Ork Nob, its crude axe cleaving through flesh and bone with terrifying ease. The Guardsman’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground in a heap of blood and broken armor, and the Ork bellowed a triumphant roar, raising its weapon for the next kill.

Without thinking, Lilith raised her hand, and the Warp answered.

The air around her crackled with energy as an invisible force shot out from her fingertips, coiling like serpents around the Ork Nob’s limbs. The greenskin beast froze mid-swing, its tusked maw curling into a confused snarl as it tried to move. But the psychic chains held firm, tightening with every beat of Lilith’s heart. She could feel the immense strain of holding the creature in place, every ounce of her will focused on the task.

Her mind screamed in protest, her body aching from the sheer effort of controlling the power surging through her. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pounding in her skull, the warmth of blood trickling from her nose. But even as her vision blurred and her head swam, she didn’t release her grip. She couldn’t.

With a sudden twist of her wrist, she willed the psychic chains to tighten, and the Ork’s bones snapped with sickening cracks. Its howl of pain was cut short as Lilith clenched her hand into a fist, the psychic energy constricting the creature’s throat until its eyes bulged. Then, with a final, brutal twist of her mind, she crushed its windpipe.

The Ork’s body fell to the ground, lifeless.

For a moment, the battlefield seemed to freeze. The few remaining Guardsmen, those still capable of fighting, stared at Lilith in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief and horror. They had seen what she had done. They had witnessed her wielding powers that no mortal should possess. And worse, so had the Commissar.

Commissar Voss, his dark greatcoat stained with mud and blood, approached with heavy, deliberate steps. His expression was unreadable beneath the brim of his cap, but his eyes burned with cold fury. The bolt pistol in his hand gleamed in the flickering light of the battlefield, and the sound of the safety being disengaged cut through the noise like a blade.

“Witch,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. His words carried above the roar of the battle, a death sentence. “You dare to use your vile sorcery on this battlefield? You defile the Emperor’s holy ground with your heresy?”

Lilith’s mouth went dry. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she opened her mouth to speak, to plead her case, but the words wouldn’t come. The power inside her, that terrifying, uncontrollable force, was still roiling beneath the surface, and she was afraid. Afraid of what she might do, afraid of what she had already done. The Commissar’s eyes locked onto hers, cold and pitiless, and she knew what was coming.

There would be no mercy here. Not for a psyker.

Commissar Voss raised his bolt pistol, the barrel trained directly on Lilith’s head. The metallic clink of the hammer being pulled back echoed in her ears, louder than the war cries of the Orks or the screams of the dying. There was only one punishment for heresy, and the Commissar was the Emperor’s executioner.

“By His will,” Voss intoned, his voice steady and unyielding, “you are condemned.”

The remaining Guardsmen around her, those still loyal to the Emperor, did nothing. They simply stared, their faces pale, their bodies too exhausted or too fearful to intervene. They knew the law as well as Lilith did. A psyker, unregistered and uncontrolled, was a danger to them all. To the Imperium itself. She had become a threat, and threats had to be eliminated.

Lilith’s mind raced. Her body trembled with the strain of holding back the power that still surged within her, begging to be unleashed. She could feel the warp at the edge of her consciousness, its whispers growing louder, urging her to act. To fight back. To survive.

But at what cost?

The Commissar’s finger tightened on the trigger. Lilith felt time slow, the seconds stretching out like hours. Her breath caught in her throat. There was no escape. No salvation. She could unleash her powers, but that would only confirm her heresy, her damnation. She would be hunted, destroyed, by the Inquisition if she wasn’t consumed by the warp first.

The weight of her life, her existence, pressed down on her. She thought of her time in the orphanage, of Sister Mercy’s kind face, of the friends she had lost. She thought of Eve, the voice in her mind, the soul that had once occupied this body. And she thought of the Emperor, the distant, silent figure she had prayed to all her life.

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Was this His will? Was this how her story would end?

“Do it,” Lilith whispered, her voice barely audible. Her body sagged, the strain of holding the warp at bay becoming unbearable. She could feel her strength failing, her control slipping. “Kill me if that’s the Emperor’s will.”

For a moment, just a moment, the Commissar hesitated. His steely gaze flickered, as if a spark of doubt had pierced the iron walls of his resolve. It was only the briefest of pauses, a heartbeat in the midst of battle, but Lilith saw it. She saw the crack in his certainty, the moment where he questioned.

But it passed as quickly as it had come, and the Commissar’s face hardened once more. His grip on the bolt pistol tightened, and his eyes turned cold again, the unyielding gaze of an Imperial enforcer.

“For the Emperor,” Voss said, his voice low and final.

Lilith closed her eyes but deep down, her emotions are all over the place. Deep down she doesn’t want to die just yet and starts to unconsciously draws out more psychic power.

The crack of the bolt pistol echoed through the battlefield, louder than the roar of Ork engines, louder than the cries of the dying. The ground trembled beneath Lilith’s feet, and she felt the psychic energy surge within her one last time, a final, desperate burst of power.

Everything went white.

___________

As the white light faded from her vision, the battlefield rushed back in, sharper and more vivid than before. But something was wrong. The Commissar stood before her, his bolt pistol still smoking, yet Lilith was not dead. She felt no pain, no impact, only the familiar heat of psychic energy pulsing through her body.

Voss’s face twisted in confusion, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. His weapon had fired, yet here she stood. Alive.

Lilith’s breath came in ragged gasps, her entire body trembling as the power within her continued to surge. She hadn’t meant to do it but whatever it was, something had reacted on its own. Her survival instinct had kicked in, and that something had shielded her from the Commissar's wrath. She blinked, her vision clearing as she realized the Commissar's bolt round had never touched her. The air between them shimmered faintly, as if the fabric of reality itself had bent to her will.

Commissar Voss's eyes widened in a mix of fury and disbelief. His fingers tightened around his bolt pistol, and he quickly chambered another round. His lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with contempt.

"You think you can cheat death with your foul sorcery, witch? You think the Emperor’s justice can be denied?" His voice cut through the chaotic din of battle. "I will burn you myself if I have to!"

Lilith staggered backward, her heart racing. The warp's presence inside her mind pulsed with each breath, reacting to her fear, her desperation but somehow, it’s not fully unbearable. She could feel it bubbling up again, threatening to break free, but this time she fought to suppress it. She had to. She couldn’t risk losing control; not here, not now. The Commissar was right in his own way. She was a danger.

The battlefield around them continued to rage, oblivious to the personal war between the two figures. Orks screamed as they charged the last remnants of the Steel Legion, their crude weapons hacking through flesh and armor. The sound of lasgun fire, too few and too sporadic now, signaled the Guardsmen's imminent collapse. But despite it all, Lilith’s entire focus remained on the Commissar standing before her.

A surge of guilt twisted in her gut. The Emperor’s holy Imperium demanded obedience, loyalty, and purity, all traits she had tried to embody since the orphanage. Yet here she was, a psyker and a heretic in the eyes of the very soldiers she had fought beside. But this was not a curse she had chosen. It was part of her, a twisted fate she had been born into. Even now, she wondered if Eve’s presence inside her had shaped her powers in some way. Had it always been there, waiting to awaken? Or was this the price for survival in a galaxy that demanded only sacrifice?

Commissar Voss leveled his bolt pistol again, his eyes filled with cold certainty. "You are an abomination, an affront to the Emperor's will. And as his servant, I will end you. Now, die."

Lilith’s knees buckled slightly under the weight of the moment. She could feel the psychic power rising inside her again, an uncontrollable force seeking release. The air around her vibrated with invisible energy. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breath, her body, and her mind. But even as she fought to control it, her psychic energy slipped through her grasp like a wild beast.

The Commissar fired again.

In that split second, instinct took over. The psychic energy flared inside her, a blinding, searing burst of energy that exploded outward. The bolt round never reached her. Instead, the psychic shield she had unconsciously summoned absorbed the round mid-flight. It fizzled out of existence, dissolving into the very fabric of the Immaterium.

Lilith’s eyes widened in horror, but she didn’t have time to process it. Her power, unchecked and unbridled, continued to surge. The battlefield around her began to warp and bend. Reality itself twisted under the force of her psychic eruption. She could hear the screams of the Guardsmen, their terror palpable as they witnessed something no mortal should ever see.

"NO!" Lilith screamed, clutching her head, trying to rein in the power. "Stop!"

But it continued.

The Commissar staggered back, his expression shifting from fury to outright terror. "What... what are you?" he muttered, almost to himself. His pistol trembled in his grip, the ironclad faith he once had now crumbling under the weight of the impossible.

Lilith felt the energy build to a peak. It was too much, too vast to control. She could feel the warp tugging at her, threatening to pull her into its endless void. Her body was wracked with pain, her muscles seizing as the raw psychic power surged through her but somehow, there was something else that she couldn’t point out. She couldn’t stop it.

Her vision blurred again, and for a moment, she thought she could see Eve; No, feel Eve’s whispers in the depths of her mind, her voice calm amidst the storm.

“Let go, Lilith,” Eve's voice murmured. “Let me help you.”

Lilith hesitated. She had no choice. She was drowning in the warp, and without help, she would lose herself to it completely.

Fine, she thought. Help me.

Eve’s presence surged forward in her mind, and suddenly the psychic maelstrom began to stabilize. The overwhelming force that had threatened to tear her apart began to ebb, and the chaotic energy surrounding her slowly retracted, folding back into the depths of her psyche.

The air calmed down. The battlefield returned to focus.

Lilith stood there, panting, her body trembling with exhaustion. She could still feel the power inside her, simmering just below the surface, but it was under control thanks to Eve.

The Commissar stood frozen, his bolt pistol still in hand, but he didn’t fire. His face had gone pale, his eyes wide with disbelief. “How did you…” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with a mixture of awe and revulsion. “You… control it?”

Lilith shook her head, her breath still shaky. "I don’t... I can’t control it. It’s not something I want."

Voss’s expression twisted into something darker. “It doesn’t matter. No one, not even the Emperor’s chosen, should wield such power. You are a danger to us all.”

Lilith’s heart sank. She had saved herself, but she had also revealed her secret. There was no going back now. She had crossed a line that couldn’t be undone. The Commissar would never let her live. She was marked and damned.

Before she could respond, a fresh wave of Orks crashed into the remaining barricades. The greenskins were relentless, tearing through the last defenses with brutal force. The cries of dying men filled the air once more, and the tide of battle surged back into focus.

For a brief moment, Commissar Voss hesitated. His cold eyes flicked between Lilith and the advancing horde of Orks. He was weighing his options, considering whether to kill her now or to let her fight, a pawn in this final, desperate stand.

Lilith, sensing his hesitation, steeled herself. "I can help," she said, her voice hoarse but determined. "Let me help."

Voss’s eyes narrowed. The cruelty in his gaze had not softened, but he was a Commissar above all else, loyal to victory, even if it meant using a heretic to achieve it.

For a moment, Lilith thought he might agree, might give her the chance to fight alongside the Guardsmen one last time. But then his expression hardened again, and she saw the decision flash in his eyes.

"There can be no peace with the likes of you," Voss growled. He raised his bolt pistol again, and this time, there was no hesitation.

Lilith’s heart stopped as the cold barrel leveled with her face.