Chapter 2: The Watchful Angels
The first thing she learned about humans was hunger.
It gnawed at her constantly, a dull, demanding ache that never ceased. Her body—this accursed, heavy thing—required sustenance in ways she had never known before. It needed sleep. It tired. It ached.
The second thing she learned was pain.
The Aeldari knew pain, but it was fleeting, distant—a warning, not a prison. This body knew nothing but limitation. Every motion was crude. Every breath felt like an effort.
The third thing she learned was fear.
Not the sharp, instinctive fear of an Aeldari warrior, but the creeping, gnawing paranoia of a creature weaker than those around it.
She learned this lesson when the Dark Angels found her.
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She had wandered, disoriented, through the ruined cityscape. The Warp had spat her out on a corpse-littered battlefield, her body clad in scavenged armor, her presence an enigma. Then came the gunfire. The armored giants. The black-clad figures who moved with purpose and paranoia.
She had barely fought back. How could she? Her own body betrayed her, sluggish and uncoordinated. They took her down in seconds.
Now, she was a prisoner.
The chamber was dark, the walls adorned with gothic inscriptions. Chains bound her wrists, heavy and unrelenting. Across from her, a towering figure in obsidian armor loomed, his helm removed to reveal a stern, scarred face.
An Interrogator-Chaplain.
His gaze was not cruel. Not filled with the madness she had seen in the Blood Angels. No, his was something far more dangerous.
Cold. Calculating. Searching.
"You are not what you seem," he murmured, his voice edged with suspicion. "You bear the marks of a warrior, yet you are…wrong."
She remained silent, her mind racing.
The Imperium hated psykers. They feared them. If they suspected the truth—that she was something beyond human—they would destroy her.
Yet, if she played the part of a lost, confused soul…
She let her shoulders sag, let exhaustion slip into her features. "I don't know," she rasped, voice hoarse. "I… woke up in the ruins. I don't remember."
A lie. One she hated telling. But survival demanded it.
The Chaplain studied her for a long moment before rising. "You will be watched," he stated. "You will prove yourself. Or you will die."
As the door sealed shut, she exhaled.
Her first test had begun.
And if she was to survive in this cruel Imperium, she would need to do what no Aeldari had ever done before.
She would need to become one of them.