Elizabeth nodded, her expression grim. “Agreed.”

  Kayvaan turo Hilsa. “Set up sehe team will rest for two hours before we assault the Daemon s in the ter. Elizabeth, have you reached the Eldar? What’s their status?”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes, her breathing steadying as she entered a trance-like state. For a fleeting sed, Kayvaa as though he glimpsed a fragment of another reality—a pce beyond mortal prehension. A faint fsh of light passed through her body, and then she opened her eyes. Only a sed had passed.

  “The e is stable,” she reported. “unication is clear. The Eldar are fag the same issue we are. The Daemons have hidden their altar as well, and they ’t determine which is real. Like us, they have no choice but to attack eae in turn.”

  “So that’s it,” Kayvaan said, his voice heavy with resignation. “We push through one by ohe enemy’s trated, prepared. We charge in, kill everything, aroy whatever they’re proteg. Then move to the . Rinse a.” He csped his trembling hands together and shook his head. “What a stupid pn.”

  Elizabeth caught the slight tremor. “You’re shaking. Are you afraid?” she asked, her tone ced with doubt.

  Kayvaa out a dry ugh. “Afraid? Me? Astartes know no fear,” he replied, f a grin. “No, I’m not scared—I’m excited. This will be my first battle against Daemons since… well, since my st ohat fight was where I fell. Back then, we didn’t uand these creatures. We didn’t bother to. We were invincible—or so we thought. We believed that if we didn’t falter, not even the Chaos Gods themselves could defeat us. “But Daemons…” His voice darkened. “They’re different. You ’t block them with armor alohe fight isn’t just physical—it’s spiritual, mental. If I could choose, I’d face them on a battlefield I uand. A csh of steel and fire. I want to see how their blood sptters when we finally take them down. Instead, we’re forced to do this—rushing in blind, hag through whatever stands in our way. It’s crude, it’s reckless, and it’s stupid. But,” he added with a faint smirk, “it’s also effective.”

  Elizabeth’s gaze sharpened. “You’d do well to guard your thoughts,” she said coldly. “We don’t fight for eai. We fight for duty—to fulfill the Emperor’s will.”

  Kayvaan ughed—a deep, genuine ugh that echoed through the room. “Don’t worry, Inquisitor. I haven’t lost my mind to bloodlust. This is just who I am. In the past, we spread faith through sughter. Now, we sing hymns to the Emperor with the blood of our eimes have ged, but the battlefield hasn’t. We came, we killed, we quered—and that will never ge.”

  Elizabeth frowned but said nothing. Kayvaan's words were flippant, but she knew better than to take them at face value. His true belief was simpler, harsher. For him, fighting wasn’t a means to spread truth lorify the Emperor—it was an end in itself. Victory was all that mattered. There were no prayers, no fiery sermons, no stirring speeches. Only the drive to fight and an unshakable faith in victory. And somehow, when Kayvaan spoke, it was impossible not to believe him. His presence alone seemed to make triumph iable.

  Kayvaan turo Hilsa. “I’ll take first watch. Let the others rest. This pce isn’t kind to anyone, especially Elizabeth. Make sure she’s ready for what’s ing. She’ll need all her strength soon.” Elizabeth smiled faintly, for once holding back her sharp tongue. She sank into a chair, exhaustion finally catg up to her. The room fell silent as the team settled in.

  This wasn’t a se one could find in an interrogation room or written in the crisp pages of a field report. In times of peace, soldiers cloak themselves with courtesy, smiles, and yers of pretense—hiding the harsh reality of what they are to avoid harming others unnecessarily. But here, on the cusp of battle, all illusions were stripped away. Kayvaan stood bare, his polished exterior shredded by the grindih of his unspoken ferocity. In this moment, Elizabeth had a peculiar thought. ‘This man’, she mused, ‘was born for the battlefield. There, amidst chaos and age, he was most at ease.’ His every word, every movement reflected an authenticity she rarely saw. Here, Kayvaan wasn’t a ander or a soldier; he was simply himself—a predator in his natural habitat.

  Oddly, this version of Kayvaan exuded trust. The eerie spiral staircase, the oppressive atmosphere, the unknowable tension of fag Serapheas—all seemed to dissipate in the warmth of his hearty smile. It wasn’t his physique—Kayvaahe broad chest or chiseled features of a stereotypical warrior. It was his demeanor: calm, , and reassuring, like the world after a sing summer rain.

  Elizabeth couldn’t help but accept his offer of rest. She shed her armor, ed herself in her cloak, and y down on the worn sofa. Within moments, her exhaustion took over, and she drifted into a deep sleep. Kayvaan, stepped out of the room. Gently closing the door, he began his patrol.

  Ihe room, Elizabeth slept soundly, her breathing steady. Yet the rest she sought eluded her entirely. As her mind drifted, her defenses slipped, allowing old nightmares to creep in. Perhaps it was the unnatural tension of this pce, or the release of stress after stant vigince. Whatever the cause, her subscious betrayed her, dragging her back to the in of her fears. She dreamed of the sea, its waves reg to reveal a breathtaking uer world. For a fleeting moment, she felt wonder—but then the waves returned, crashing down with violent ferocity, sweeping her away.

  The nightmare engulfed her. She was no longer in the room but back at the beginning, where it all started. It was early m. The sunlight filtered through half-drawn curtains, dang lightly on Elizabeth’s shes. The world was unnervingly silent. No footsteps echoed oreets. No engines roared, no birds chirped, no dogs barked. It was a silence so absolute that it pressed against her ears, oppressive and suffog.

  But amidst the silewo sounds reached her. The first was chewi, visceral, and unnervingly loud. It was the sound of bones crag, flesh tearing, and blood pooling. The sed was faint g, carried by the wind. A mother and her daughter, sobbing quietly in despair. Elizabeth wao open her eyes to see. ‘Don’t open your eyes!’ a voice screamed in her mind, panicked and insistent. ‘Don’t look!’ But the Elizabeth of the dream didn’t hear. Her curiosity g her, and her eyelids fluttered open.