The enter had been uedly did. Edward revealed everything, leaving ail cealed. "In the Imperium, any e to Chaos is viewed with absolute suspi," Edward had said. "Psykers are tightly trolled, the Navigator Houses are leashed, and even the faiouch of Chaos knowledge or artifacts leads to accusations of heresy. For most, your existence would be nothing more than an opportunity to burn another heretic, celebrating the fmes as a victainst Chaos. But such as are shhted, a testament to the ignorance rampant within the Imperium. The truth is, Chaos is entwined with our reality. Without it, the Imperium would colpse. travel is essential, and uanding Chaos is crucial if we are to overe it."You are unique, Kayvaan. To some, you are a heretic marked by Chaos. But to our fa, the Xanthism, your existence is invaluable. You represent an opportunity to deepen our uanding of Chaos while avoiding the blind dogma that hihe Imperium. Others might seek to burn you, but under our prote, you’ll avoid the stake. We ask only for your cooperation, and iurn, we will safeguard your existence."

  Kayvaan’s response was calm, a quiet acceptahat intrigued Edward. There was ion or fear—just a sense of resolve. Edward’s task was clear: observe Kayvaan for three months, shadowing him like a sed shadow. Every a, every word would be recorded and scrutio determihe truth behind the enigmatic leader.

  Kayvaan had agreed without hesitation. Now, on Edward’s third day, he found himself filled with anticipation. The opening of the Knights Tempr sele camp promised a neter in his observations. The campgrounds bustled with activity, the gathered soldiers exuding discipline and pride.

  As Edward rouhe er of the bamboo structure, he heard Kayvaan’s anding voice resonate across the training ground. “You!” Kayvaan called out, standih the regimental banner with a fervor that was almost tangible. “You e from all ers of Reach! From remote vilges, bustling towns, and even across the void from aar! You are the fihe Reach sector has to offer—warriors among warriors, champions amoo staoday proves you are the elite, the best this gaxy has to give!”

  “I am the stro! I am the stro!” The soldiers shouted in unison, their voices filled with fervor as they respoo Kayvaan’s praise.

  “But that’s not enough,” Kayvaan tinued, his tone firm and anding. “You may already be great, but not great enough. You may already be strong, but not strong enough. Look around—there are five hundred of you standioday. When this elimination camp ends, only one hundred will remain. Four-fifths of you will be ruthlessly eliminated. And if you’re among those elimihere’s only one reason: the others were strohan you. So, tell me, do you have the fideo stay? Do you have the resolve to joiro and most honorable ranks?”

  “I am the stro! I am the stro!” The warriors’ cries grew louder, their collective energy shaking the very air around them.

  “I hope your fides,” Kayvaan said, pag the grounds with deliberate steps. “Soon, you will experierue hell. You will groan in pain, you will curse your very existence, and some of you may even despise your own mothers fing you into this world. I would say you’ll be pushed to the limit of human endurance, but that would be a lie. Reag the limits of humanity won’t be enough. Only by surpassing those limits—by relying on your willpower, your intellect, and the bonds with your rades— you hope to succeed. You must unite, overe every obstacle, and make the impossible possible. Only then will you earn the right to stay. Those who remain will join the Knights Tempr, being warriors who walk among the stars, guardians of humanity, living legends.”

  Kayvaan’s eyes swept across the sea of faces. “Who will fall? And who will rise?”

  The response came in a thunderous wave: “Me! Me! Me!”

  “Good!” Kayvaan nodded, his voiing with approval. “Your fidence is endable. But before we begin, there is something you o uand.” He gestured toward the rge bronze bell positioned he field. “Do you see this bell?”

  Kayvaan walked over and grasped the rope hangih it, pulling it sharply. The bell’s clear, resonant chime filled the air. “This is no ordinary bell,” he expined. “For you, it represents a choice. Training will be brutal. If at any point you feel you ’t tinue, you e here, ring this bell, and walk away. No one will mock you for it. What awaits you is unbearable pain, and for most people, choosing to leave would be the rational decision. But I’m not asking you to be rational or ordinary. What are you here to bee?”

  “Astartes!” the soldiers roared.

  “Louder! I ’t hear you!” Kayvaan bellowed.

  “Astartes!” they screamed, their voices raw with determination.

  “Now you’re starting to sound like soldiers!” Kayvaan said with a grin. “The first phase of the Tempr Elimination Camp begins now. Instructors, take them to their aodations and begiraining. Don’t waste a sed!”

  As the soldiers marched away in disciplined lihe instructors preparing to subject them to grueling drills, Edward approached Kayvaan, a faint smile on his face. “That was quite the speech,” Edward said. “Even I felt inspired, and I wasn’t even standing in formation.”

  Kayvaan chuckled. “Shall we tihis versation in my office?”***

  “Have a seat,” Kayvaan said, opening a small refrigerator stocked with an array of drinks. “Want something to drink?”

  “I don’t drink,” Edward replied.

  “Well, then you’ll have to try this.” Kayvaan pulled out a of soda, setting it in front of Edward. “It’s not poisoe being bd fizzy.”

  Edward hesitated, then opehe , taking a tentative sip. “It’s sweet... Not bad.”

  Kayvaan grabbed a beer for himself, popping it open with practiced ease. “So, what do you want to talk about? Or is this one of your observation sessions?”

  Edward shook his head. “It’s not an interrogation. I’m here to observe, yes, but today is more about getting to know you—casually. Think of it as two friends sharing a drink.”

  Kayvaan ughed, leaning ba his chair. “A casual chat with an Inquisitor who could sentence me to death? Sure, that’s totally rexing.”

  “Alcohol dulls the senses,” Edward said, his tone suddenly serious. “Are you sure it’s wise to drink?”

  “That’s the way it is,” Kayvaan expined, swirling the beer bottle casually in his hand. “Drunkenness is essentially mild alcohol poisoning. When blood alcohol levels rise too high, it causes symptoms like dizziness and vomiting—your body’s way of saying you’ve overdo. But for most Space Marihat’s impossible. Our physiology is resistant to toxins. We drink poison, swallow live creatures, and endure enviros that would kill ordinary humans. That resilience is fual to our survival.”

  Edward tilted his head. “So drinking doesn’t affect you?”

  “Oh, it , but only if I let it. I adjust my metabolism to achieve a... well, let’s call it a tipsy state. It’s the sweet spot drinkers seek—the buzz without the sequences. For me, it’s one of the few simple pleasures I still enjoy. Thankfully, I’ve never let it get in the way of my duties.”

  Edward hen shifted the versation. “You mentioned earlier that you gd with me ing here. What did you mean by that?”