“Strictly speaking, she’s what you might call a ‘chaste person,’” Randall began thoughtfully. “She es from the Sisters of Battle, after all. But I’ve tested her ily with words, and she doesn’t seem entirely opposed to the ideas of our Xanthism fa. She doesn’t agree with us—at least, not yet—but I see potential in her. With time, I believe we could bring her into our fold.”

  “Do you think it’s necessary?” Edward raised a hand, and the dot he held ignited in a quiet, trolled fme. Elizabeth’s meticulously writte buro ashes in moments. “The priority is keeping this report a secret. The fewer people who know about it, the better. We ’t afford to let this information spread. If it does, those fanatical puritans will cmor for the Chapter Master’s execution. I don’t o hear their arguments to kly what they’d say.”

  Edward’s tone grew colder as he tinued. “We must protect him and observe him carefully. I’ll make tact with him myself and learn what I . Chapter Master Kayvaan represents an unpreted opportunity. I believe he could teach us how to use Chaos power safely—a way to harhe ’s potential without succumbing to its corruption.”

  Randall hesitated. “And Elizabeth? What should we do about her?” He made a subtle gesture, a quick motion of his hand across his neck.

  Edward’s expression hardened. “Elizabeth isn’t the problem. If you believe she keep this secret, then there’s o act against her. But this situation is critical. We ’t afford any mistakes.” Edward turoward the door, his bck robes trailing behind him. “I’ll leave for the Ferrum immediately. You’re responsible for ensuring this secret stays buried.”

  Randall watched as Edward disappeared through the door, leaving him alone in the office. He sighed, sitting heavily in his chair. His mind was a whirlwind of flig thoughts. On his desk y two mission files. One was marked A+, a challenging but achievable assig. Elizabeth could ha, and it would keep her occupied while minimizing risk.

  The other file bore the designation SSS—a mission of near-impossible difficulty. The assig was so perilous that even the cve’s legendary inquisitor hesitated to uake it. Randall had never seriously sidered deploying this mission. But now, with Edward’s words ringing in his ears, the stakes felt different. Edward was right. The situation demanded absolute secrecy. A single mistake could jeopardize not just a few lives but the stability of the entire Imperium.

  Chapter Master Kayvaan represented somethiraordinary—a vergence of Chaos, psychic strength, and an unbroken will. Before his mutation, Kayvaan hadn’t been a psyker. But when a daemon possessed him, something miraculous happehe Eldar, through their enigmatic methods, maniputed the situation, enabling Kayvaan to suppress the daemon while retaining his humanity.

  In essence, Chapter Master Kayvaan had imprisoned a daemon within himself. It sounded simple on the surface, but for the Xanthism, this feat bordered on the miraculous. Imprisoning a daemon within one’s body while retaining sciousness aing corruption was thought to be impossible. Yet, Kayvaan had do.

  For turies, the Xanthism had pursued this dream. They studied daemon ons, analyzed the ws of heretical rituals, aiculously destructed the beliefs and practices of Chaos cultists. They sought to strip away the veil of terror surrounding daemons, to uand their true nature and uhe secrets hiddeh their monstrous forms.

  The research was dangerous. Humanity’s uanding of daemons was rudimentary at best. Engaging with such forces was akin to a novice handling unstable explosives. More often than not, such attempts ended in disaster. But the Xanthism were uerred. To them, every failure was a step forward, every sacrifice a building block for future knowledge. They believed that if enough sacrifices were made, humanity would one day uhe mysteries of Chaos, redug daemons to mere tools—no more fearsome than the fmes of a hearth used to warm a home.

  It was an ambitious dream, even a dangerous one. Yet it wasn’t without pret. Ione Age, humans had tamed wolves into loyal panions. If primitive humans could achieve such a feat, why couldn’t the Imperium, uhe God-Emperuidaame the denizens of the ?

  Yes, the process was fraught with peril. But ce in the face of danger had always been the hallmark of humanity’s greatest achievements. If the savages of prehistory could learn to dah wolves, then why couldn’t the inquisitors of the Imperium learn to use the daemons?

  Randall sighed, rubbing his temples as the weight of his choices bore down on him. Somewhere, in the depths of the Imperium, the delicate bance of power shifted once more. Meanwhile Edward had never imagihat in the Far Easteror, beyond the distant edges of the Imperium, there existed a pce as breathtaking as this. It was as if the Reach system had been plucked straight from the fables of an untouched Eden.

  The p's ecosystem ristine, a harmonious bance of flora and fauna. The air ure, untainted by the acrid stench of war or the corrupting miasma of Chaos. Overhead, the sky stretched an unmarred azure, mirrored by the gentle ebb and flow of the ceruleahe beaches shimmered with soft, white sand that felt soothing under bare feet, warmed by the golden sunlight. Reach’s untouched beauty was striking, a stark trast to the ravaged worlds Edward had known. For nine millennia, this p had remained unspoiled by rge-scale flio xenos invasions, no monstrous incursions, no civil wars scarring its surface. The peace here was intoxig, a fleeting taste of something Edward had rarely entered—a serenity he knew was all tile.

  Peace—a word so often longed for, yet so elusive. Though Edward reized its tra nature, he couldn’t help but be drawn to it, cherishing the illusion while it sted. Acheron Reach system housed the Knights Tempr's special sele camp. The camp was modest in its design, with a cluster of bamboo buildings led he shore. Beyond them stretched rows of funal, spartan barracks. At the camp's heart was a rge training ground, anchored by a t fgpole bearing the regimental standard of the Knights Tempr.

  Edward took a final, wistful g the o before heading toward the camp. Three days had passed since his arrival, and his first moments on Reach had been anything but uful. Spies had immediately taken note of him—unsurprising, given the rare influx of strangers at the spaceport. Most travelers were locals, and new arrivals were a rare curiosity. Rather than avoid their notice, Edward had directly fronted one of the spies. Before the man could react, Edward seized him by the throat, extrag the information he sought with ruthless efficy.

  Within hours, Kayvaan was alerted to Edward’s presehe leader of Reach had learned of an Inquisitor’s arrival, and though the meeting was not officially doted, Edward had made it clear that he sought a private audience.