Kayvaan adjusted the single-lens goggles on his forehead and sed the dark streets outside with infrared and thermal optiothing moved—not an enemy, not even a stray animal. The world beyond the window was eerily still, the silence pressing down like a weight.

  Satisfied with his iion, Kayvaan walked into a room where the Sisters had made camp. The nuns had sged and burned old furniture to light a bonfire in the ter of the room. The fmes cast flickering shadows on the cracked walls, giving the space a sembnce of warmth. Elizabeth sat alone by the fire, staring into the fmes. “You’re wasting your energy on unnecessary tasks again,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, her gaze never leaving the fire. “My Sisters are pletely reliable.”

  “They’re exhausted,” Kayvaan replied. “I was just doing a routine check. It doesn’t mean I distrust them.”

  “As long as they live, they’re trustworthy,” she said, her tone even. “These are Sisters of Battle, warriors of faith. You should know that by now.”

  Kayvaan waved off the remark. “It’s just habit. Let’s drop it. How’s the Eldar’s progress?”

  Elizabeth gave him a sidelong gnce. “What oute are you hoping for? That they succeed easily, or that they struggle like us?”

  “It’s plicated,” Kayvaan admitted. “Of course, I want them to succeed. But if they breeze through this, it’ll be trouble for us in the long run. daemons don’t give up easily.”

  Elizabeth’s expression didn’t ge, but her tone greer. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know they’re struggling. Their progress matches ours. They’re preparing for their final battle, just like we are.”

  Kayvaan caught her meaning immediately. The Eldar, masters of stealth and subterfuge, should have made faster progress. Their rangers could vanish in broad daylight, let alone uhe cover of darkness. For their paatch his team’s, it meant their battles had been far more intense. “So, the final battle approaches,” Kayvaan said with a small grin. “Feels like a gamble now. Who gets the grand prize?”

  Elizabeth didn’t share his amusement. “The Eldar don’t see it that way. They’re divided over their approach. Some think we should unch a probing attack to see if Rosina is among the altar’s guardians. If she’s there, they’ll support us. If not, we’re to disengage and regroup for a coordirike oarget.”

  Kayvaan shook his head, a grim smile on his lips. “That’s not strategy. That’s gambling, and the house always wins. Rosina could manipute the situation, leading us to attack the wrong target or spread our forces too thin. daemons are masters of deception. Even the vaunted Eldar have fools among them, it seems.”

  Elizabeth’s voice turned cold. “Their hesitation stems from fear—fear of Rosina and the Chaos God she serves. I se in their psychiergy; it trembles like a fme in the wind.”

  Kayvaan's expression softehough his words were blunt. “Fear, huh? That’s aion I envy.”

  Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look. “Why envy fear?”

  Kayvaan leaned back, his voiusually reflective. “Space Marines are engio be fearless. Everyohinks that’s a blessing, but it’s not. Without fear, there’s no bravery. True ce is standing against ahat terrifies you, quering the dread in your heart, and fighting anyway. That’s what makes a warrior admirable—not their ability to kill, but their ability to overe themselves. But for Astartes, fear is chemically stripped away. Our bravery isn’t ge’s artificial, the product of geigineering and ditioning. There’s nothing noble about it. We perform acts of valor, but we’re not truly brave.”

  Elizabeth stared into the fire, her expression bnk as the golden fmes dahe flickering light reflected across the room, creating a rhythmic py of light and shadow. Yet, Kayvaan's sharp eyes caught the silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Large droplets fell one by one, glistening as they hit the ground.

  Kayvaan froze. Panic crept into him—not the kind he faced in bat, but a different, unfamiliar kind. He wasn’t afraid of Elizabeth as a psychic-powered Inquisitor. Even in life-or-death situations, he could steel himself against her. If it came to blows, he trusted his own skills implicitly. But this? Fag a woman, even one as formidable as Elizabeth, quietly g? He had no idea what to do.

  Her beauty plicated things, though he couldn’t say if it truly mattered in this moment. The sheer helplessness of the situation overwhelmed him. What was he supposed to say? Why was she g? Was it something he said? He didn’t know.

  Faced with this uncharted battlefield, Kayvaan would have gdly taken an enraged Elizabeth swinging a sword at him. At least he could hahat. “Uh... Did I say something too harsh earlier?” Kayvaan asked awkwardly, his voice stiff.

  Elizabeth didn’t respond. She tiaring at the fire, tears falling silently. The sileretched, being unbearable. After a moment’s hesitation, Kayvaan decided to do the only thing he could think of: apologize. It didn’t matter if it was his fault or not. “Look, if I said something out of line, I’m sorry. I—”

  “It’s not your fault,” Elizabeth interrupted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me. This pce… it’s stra’s been gnawing at my defenses, poking at things I thought I’d buried. Normally, I suppress it all—memories, doubts, emotions. But here… they keep surfag. And I ’t stop it.”

  She paused, her voice trembling as she tinued. “You were right. I failed o a critical moment. It wasn’t the daemon that defeated me—it was my own fear. I was terrified. I froze. I wao run. And that failure…” She covered her face with her hands, her voice breaking. “I feel so ashamed. So… ashamed.” Her shoulders trembled as she cried openly now, her usual posure utterly shattered.

  Kayvaan remained silent, unsure of how to respond. He simply stared into the fire, letting her vent her emotions in peace. After some time, Elizabeth wiped her tears with the back of her hand and chuckled bitterly. “You must think so little of me,” she said, her voice returning to its usual cold, detached tone.

  For the first time in what felt like ay, Kayvaan found her familiar demeanor f. “I don’t,” Kayvaan said pinly.

  Elizabeth blinked, caught off guard by his answer. “What is this? Cheap sympathy?”

  “I don’t do sympathy,” Kayvaan replied bluntly. “If I thought less of you, I’d say it. But I don’t. How you feel, what you struggle with—it’s not my business. Our retionship starts and ends otlefield. Ohis is over, I hope o cross paths with you again. You’re an Inquisitor. I’m sure you’re used to that se.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, I am. her the Inquisition nor the Sisters care about such opinions.”

  Kayvaan's tone remained brutally ho. “If you face the battlefield with a death wish, it only helps me. You’d fight harder, recklessly even, and that would increase our ces of victory. And if you fall, it wouldn’t matter to me. I don’t waste words on fort, and I don’t care to make you feel better. I’m just telling the truth.”

  “Do you have to be so ho?” Elizabeth asked, exasperated.