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Chapter 51 – The Chief Steward

  Williameus , his chief steward, stepped in, a crisply maintained biform. With a subtle gesture, he dismissed the other attendants. Ohe door clicked shut, he approached and spoke with respectful calm. “My lord, everything is prepared. Please follow me.”

  Kayvaan nodded, unsurprised. He set his cup down, rose, and followed Williameus . The Governor’s Mansion was a vast maze of gothic corridors and chambers. Though Kayvaan had dwelled there for days, its sprawling expanse could still fuse even the sharpest mind. Williameus led him down silent hallways before stopping at a study. The butler pushed against an a bookcase, revealing a passage hidden in the wall.

  They desded a staircase of cold stohe air growing heavier with each step. The journey tihrough dim corridors until they reached aor. It shuddered faintly as they began to desd, the hum reverberating through the shaft for what felt like ay. When the doors finally opehey were greeted by shadows.

  Williameus stepped out first, activating a lumen. The faint beam flickered as the sileretched. A loud click rang out, and rows of overhead lights buzzed to life, illuminating an underground cavern rge enough to house an Imperial cathedral. Kayvaan’s eyes fell uporucture dominating the ter—a massive, armored train, its hull lined with orhic detailing. “A subterraransit system?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Williameus said, bowing slightly. “This leads to the fovernor. He waits for you beyond.” With reverence, he stepped to the side, opening the carriage door. “Please, my lord.”

  Kayvaan boarded without hesitation. The interior was vish, a striking trast to the stark maery outside. Plush seating, a stocked amasec et, and shelves of leather-bound tomes made the carriage feel more like a noble’s private louhan a military transport.

  Walking to the et, Kayvaaed a bottle of aged amasec. He poured a gss and sampled it with an appreciative hum before drifting toward the bookcase. Pulling a tome at random, he settled into the velvet couch, stretg his legs as the train door hissed shut.

  The train jolted softly, gliding into the depths of the tunnel. It was a solitary journey. Not even Williameus apanied him, and the low hum of the engine was the only sound in the abyss. The train burrowed ever deeper beh Reach, the distance beyond measure.

  Kayvaan, uurbed, savored the silence. Fear had no hold on him. Though he no longer bore the title of Astartes, the instincts of a warrior endured. Instead of uhe journey calmed him. He sipped his drink, let the book occupy his mind, aually dozed off to the gentle sway of the train.

  When he awoke, hours or mier, the train had halted. The door stood open, and beyond it, a dimly lit ptform awaited him. Kayvaan stepped off the ptform and stood before a massive golden arch t above him. Its grandeur shimmered with a faint, inviting glow. Without hesitation, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside.

  The space beyond was vast—se it could easily fit a Thunderhawk gunship. Half the room was dominated by an enormous mae, its structure intricate and overwhelming. Thick, bck cables coiled around the maery like veins, pulsing with dim, crimson fshes of light. The faint, rhythmic sound of steam hissing added an eerie pulse to the room’s atmosphere.

  “Kayvaan, you’re finally here.” A voice echoed from every er, deep and resonant. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like ay. Time has drifted us, but I always believed we’d meet again. You’ve never beeo break a promise. Still… it’s been so long. Long enough for me tet so much.”

  Kayvaan narrowed his eyes and sed the dimly lit room. The giant mae cast plex shadows, creating tless pces for someone—or something—to hide. His voice was steady but edged with curiosity. “Where are you? Why don’t you show yourself?”

  “I’m right in front of you.”

  “Oh?” Kayvaan's gaze sharpened, flig between the gaps in the cables and adamantium framework. “Then why ’t I see you?”

  “You’ve already seen me. You just haven’t realized it yet.” The voice surrounded him again, a stereo-like presehat seemed to e from the very walls.

  Before Kayvaan could reply, the enormous mae roared to life. Steam vents hissed violently, filling the room with a dense, white fog. Metallic groans reverberated as the maery shifted and moved. Cables twisted like serpents, and meical arms emerged from the mae’s depths, log onto the floor or embedding themselves into the walls. Sparks flew from exposed joints, dang like tiny fireflies in the mist.

  The meical chaos slowly subsided, and the crimson fshes faded. In their pce, white lumen strips flickered on, illuminating the room with a cold brilliance. As the steam cleared, Kayvaan's eyes locked onto something that made him freeze—a face.

  It wasn’t human. A metallic visage emerged from the heart of the mae, its surface gleaming uhe lumen light. Crimson, glowing eyes peered back at him, their gaze unyielding. The face, although meical, had features eerily remi of a womah it, there was no body—no neo torso. Instead, a chaotietwork of tubes and cables extended from where the neck should have been, embedding the head into the massive mae.

  “Hello, Kayvaan Shrike,” the metallic face greeted him. Its voice carried a strange mix of familiarity and artificial resohe ers of its mouth twitched upward, f what could only be described as a meical smile.

  Kayvaan stared in disbelief, his brows knitting into a frown. “Who… who are you?”

  “I’m human,” the meical face replied, its tone heavy with something almost like sorrow. “At least, I used to be. Now? I’m not so sure anymore. Oh, Kayvaan, you were always so fortunate—blessed with the gift of the Astartes, a body unyielding against time. Time doesn’t leave scars on you. But me? I was mortal. I had a name, a legacy, perhaps a little more ce and wit than most. But what did that matter in the shadow of eternity? This is what remains.”

  Kayvaan's eyes narrowed as his twis began to race. “Who exactly are you?”

  “You don’t reize me?” The meical voice held a faint note of amusement. “I suppose that’s fair. Ten thousand years is a long time. But I remember you, Kayvaan. I’ve always remembered. It’s me. Valyra.”

  Kayvaan’s breath caught in his throat. “Va… Valyra?!” His voice cracked as he staggered back, uncharacteristically shaken. Panic surged through him like aric shock.

  Even in the face of war—against Ork WAAAGHs, t Titans, or the deadliest of Traitions—Kayvaan had always remained calm. He’d stood unfling before death itself, his spirit unyielding. But now? Now, he felt something fn and terrifying: fear. “This ’t be,” he stammered, his voice tremblie his effort to trol it. “Valyra Shrike? That’s impossible. It’s beehousand years! You ’t still be alive!”

  “But I am. Though ‘alive’ might not be the right word for what this is. I’m here, Kayvaan. My body is gone, but what remains of me persists.”

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