About three hundred years ago, a convent of the Order of the Martyred Lady of the Adepta Sororitas mysteriously vanished on a mission of unspecified details. Then, about three centuries later, the Order detected a signal identified as that of the Lost Order. A contingent of Battle Sisters was dispatched to investigate. A year later, a distress signal was received which came from the Battle Sisters' ship. It was traced back to the planet Parnis in the Yarokin Veil. Another contingent was dispatched to search and rescue. They arrived at the planet, but found only one survivor with no memory of the previous incidents... This is her story...
I: WITCH
I never dreamt that my life would end like this...I think I'd laugh...If my lungs weren't full of blood...Everyone dies - the Emperor himself stands astride the threshold of life and death...
Convent Prioris, Terra
The surface of Holy Terra was bustling with life. Aircars buzzes above the towering spires and groundcars bustle to and fro on the ground below. Amongst the towers dotting the surface is the Convent Prioris, home of the Sisters of the Adepta Sororitas, the most zealous of the Divine Emperor's warriors. It also serves as their Chapel-Barracks, training grounds...and dungeon.
On one of the Spire balconies, the Convent's Prioress, the leader of the Terran convent stood. Old age had taken its toll on her but the Rejuvenat treatment kept her from succumbing to it. One eye was scarred for life, a relic from her former days as Battle Sister, now hid behind an eye patch. She held the symbol staff of authority that the Adeptus Ministorum had given her as they are indeed the Ecclesiarchy's army. A report of the lone survivor's situation had reached her, a Sister from a lost contingent sent to Parnis four years ago. Rumours spread of Chaotic Corruption, and the Sister's parent Order, the Order of the Martyred Lady was taking the brunt of it all.
Metallic footsteps were heard from behind her, accompanied by the whining of Servos. It stopped behind her but she didn't turn around to look at the person.
''Prioress...''A woman' voice said. The woman was clad in a black Power Armour curved at the waistline to accommodate a female body, with red loincloth and sleeves, with the distinguishable skulled ankh, icon of the Order of the Martyred Lady. Her armour was lined with Purity Seals, skull motifs and the Fleur de Lys, along with the scrapes, scratches and dents that she wore with pride. She bowed her head and made the sign of the Aquila by pressing both palms on the chest to form a two-headed eagle.
''Canoness Ramientes...''The Prioress greeted.
''How much longer, Prioress? Our Order is shamed...''
''Quiet, Sister...You need not remind me of our vows.''
''But four years? All this time she has uttered heresies and defiled the very walls of our convent with her blasphemies! There is talk...''
''I am aware of the rumours. But whatever your fears, we have no evidence of corruption. We know almost nothing of what had befallen her.''
The Canoness just sighed in disappointment and approval, no objection escaping from her mouth.
''I will not tolerate any more speculation on her nature'', the Prioress continued. ''I am promised that an Inquisitor is finally en route to assess her. Be content that she is held securely. Where she can't do no harm...And where no harm can come to her.''
I do not fear the ending of this life, for we have always believed that death is simply another beginning - an entrance to a new existence.
Deep in the convent's dungeons, Techpriest magi held data slates and punching runes on data lecterns, overworking their augmented brains out-just another day at work in a Techpriest's life. This day however, they were monitoring a Sister accused of Chaotic corruption, staring at their lecterns as the Cogitator-driven pict-captor did its job. The lecterns showed a dirty woman in sackcloth, crouched and scribbling words and symbols on the rockcrete walls while muttering to herself.
''...The skins of the fathers shall be handed down and the seventh generation...''
Anyone would ignore the scribbles on the wall, as if they would mean anything, coming from a lunatic. But the symbols are another story. Drawn large enough to be seen are chaotic symbols, and one symbol stood out: the symbol of Slaanesh, the chaos god of excess.
''...Red in the eye that shall open, black is the sky where it hurts...''
Outside the room where she was being held, three souls were talking under the dim light of the Promethium-fuelled braziers.
''That witch makes my skin crawl...the way she looks right through you'', a novitiate with a shaved head told two people before her, a Battle Sister and a Sister Hospitalizer, in disgust. She had just cleaned the room and meeting the two outside, still holding the basin. ''I hate cleaning up after her...she makes me feel sick!''
''It is the stench of Chaos...''The Battle Sister spoke, frowning. ''It sickens us all, sister.'' Her next action surprised the two.
''Oh my!'' The novitiate gasped while the Hospitalizer just looked on alarmed, when the Battle Sister unslung her Bolt pistol.
''...and I'm not prepared to wait for the Inquisition any longer...''The Battle Sister continued as she strode past the two towards the metal door. ''It is written - where chaos lies. Ours is the hand that must strike...For the way of Chaos is death. '' A mischievous grin drew upon her face.
The woman in the room turned towards the door as the sound of it unlocking reached her ears, glaring at the Sister who stepped boldly inside, Bolter in hand.
''What in Omnissiah's...''a Techpriest noticed the door being unlocked. ''Why is that Sister inside the-'', alarm drew across his face, if it can be seen in that augmented face of his. ''Omnissiah's cog! She's got a Bolter; she's going to kill the girl!
''Notify the guards immediately!'' The head Magus ordered. He looked back to the lectern and saw the Sister raised her weapon. ''Oh my...''
Inside the room, the woman continued to murmur while glaring at the Sister.
''...all is chaos and unreason...The absence of faith...''
The Sister's face contorted with hatred and raised her weapon. But the woman leapt in mid-air towards her in mere seconds, her former position peppered by Bolter rounds. Like a feline animal of ancient Terra would ambush its prey, the woman lunged at her would-be murderer, mounting and disarming her in seconds. The Sister squirmed under her but found it impossible, even with the help of her Power Armour.
''The absence of faith...''The woman raised her fist, and fear registered in the Sister's eyes.
''...is the mark of damnation!'' With that she brought down her fist into the Sister's chest, piercing through Ceramite and rib cage like nail to paper. The Sister let out screams of pain that died out when the woman pulled something out from her chest.
The sound of running armored feet filled the hallway and then the room as they filed in, a Battle Sister squad. They automatically pointed their weapons to the woman, who had just pulled out something from the Sister's corpse. The sight of the mutilated remains of one of their own can provoke them to punish the killer no matter what reasons were presented.
''Halt!'', their Sister Superior stayed their hands, as she glimpsed what the woman was holding in horror. The bloody thing was not a heart, as anyone would have thought, but a head-a Daemon's head. It has horns above eyes wide open with shock, a hanging jaw filled with sharp teeth, long red tongue dangling and its neck was literally torn from its body. The others saw this as well, making the sign of the Aquila and praying
''There is Chaos here. The hand of Slaanesh...''The woman tossed the grisly trophy aside and stood up back to the walls. She met the Superior's eyes, the Superior noting calm determination in her eyes. ''Burn everything...''
The Superior turned to the Hospitalizer behind her and beckoned. ''Take her-no, take our Sister to the Medical Ward. She needs to be treated. ''The Hospitalizer hesitated at first, slowly gathered her courage and led the woman to the ward. The Superior watched them walk down the dim hallway for some time, then nodded to the others. ''Burn it all.''
The other Sisters brought their Promethium-based flamers and doused the whole room with holy flames. She watched as the flames blackened the walls, incinerated the remains of their fallen Sister and most of all, erased the foul symbol of Chaos...
3 days later…
The gears squeaked as unoiled parts strained against each other as the great gates of the Convent opened. Sunlight crept inside, illuminating the walls depicting all the Life of Him on Earth.
The gates opened fully and revealed a group of people, dressed in hooded robes with sinister aura, walked into the Convent, carrying banners bearing the symbols and icons of authority that strikes fear into the hearts of people-the Inquisition.
''Hail Sisters! Your troubles are ended.'' A short priest by the name of Fazael, who acts as the front man, greeted. ''The Inquisition has arrived.''
Canoness Ramientes strode forward flanked by two of her Superiors to greet the new arrivals. She eyed the group with caution, especially the man behind the Priest. The Inquisitor, which her Superiors also thinks. Behind him is his retinue, consisting of warrior, assassin, chiurgeon, savant and others. She smiled as the group drew closer, arms wide open in a welcoming gesture.
''Inquisitor Hand, we have been awaiting your arrival most eagerly. Perhaps we might show you the Convent Sanctorum before your work begins?''
The Inquisitor just passed past her without speaking, not a surprise though. Inquisitors can be smug if they want to.
''Inquisitor Hand has no time for such pleasantries'', Fazael spoke for him. ''Chaos is abroad within your holy walls. It must be destroyed!''
Before the Canoness could react, her Superiors-displeased with the Inquisitor's lack of respect-confronted him.
''You are in the Convent Prioris now, Inquisitor. Within these walls, you have no authority.''
''Ugh...''Ramientes groaned, slapping her forehead.
''Canoness Ramientes'', Inquisitor Hand turned to her. ''You have my apologies for any breach of convent protocol, but this place is infected by Chaos' taint... And where such infection lies, I have all the authority I needed.''
''My apologies, Inquisitor.''
''I must examine the remains of the Daemon, and its Sororita host. ''He turned and walked past the Superiors.
''Yes, of course. Whatever you wish.''
I have no memory of childhood. Not one of growing up, not one of learning. I recall only entering this world fully formed, steeped in the blood of my Sisters, the screaming of human souls and the vibrant roar of Chaos...
The Canoness watched as the Inquisitor's Chiurgeon worked on the corpse of their fallen Sister, carving, slicing, and peeling. She's been curious as to why one of their own fell to chaotic corruption. They are in the Convent Mortuary, where the Daemon's remains - its head - now floats in a transparent tank full of fluids. Inquisitor Hand stood silently besides Ramientes, thoughts in mind.
''I don't know what you hope to find'', she started.
''The nature of Chaos is deceit'', he began explaining in a hard tone. ''Unless one looks past surface impressions, one can never hope to divine the purpose of the enemy.''
''Sir?'' The Chiurgeon interrupted from the operating table. ''I think you should see this.''
Both paced to the table to see the corpse bared of skin. The Chiurgeon did his work well, having skinned the corpse's head and exposing all details needed to be seen. Engraved on the skull's forehead, as clear as day, is the unmistakable symbol of Slaanesh.
''The mark of Slaanesh...''Hand murmured. ''As the witch said.''
''And we also found this on the cadaver...''The Chiurgeon raised a bloody necklace. It depicts a winged eye with a dagger pointing down. ''A token of forbidden affection perhaps?''
Ramientes frowned. ''The Navis Nobilite?''
''That is the nature of Slaanesh-temptation and seduction, pleasure and perversion. There will be others, ''Hand said. ''Many are the faces of the enemy, and many are the hands which do its work. I trust no one and spare no effort until I am satisfied that all of Chaos' servants are purged from this place...''
It begins in madness. And in pain...
The room was dark. It stinks with the tears, spittle, sweat, piss and blood, and not even the noisy exhaust fan can cleanse the stench completely. Many prisoners - witches - were taken here, tortured, broken to nothing, and then summarily executed. Now, the very aura of death crawls under the skins of anyone unlucky enough to enter. Save for one...
In the middle of the room, the 'witch' hangs from her shackles, head hung in silent contemplation. The sound of the door opening made her raise her head, fierce eyes staring at the figure walking towards her, the corrupted skull in hand. Hand stopped before her and their eyes met.
''I would know what you are, girl!' 'Hand growled.
''You are the Inquisition. I am whatever you say I am'', the woman replied sternly, never breaking eye contact.
''What manner of creature are you? Be you a Daemon, a Heretic or Saint? I would have the truth!''
''I am Ephrael Stern, a Sister of Battle.''