A.N.: Hello again! I am glad to hear people liked the first chapter, so here is the second one! I hope you enjoy!#
Anya knew morning had come when light started shining from the grates above. Barely any really, faint ambient light coming through the various holes that had appeared in the walls of the underhive through years of mismanagement and degradation, but any inhabitant of the underhive's eyesight had adapted to such poor conditions.
She considered her options. She could stay here and continue looking for more bodies of the cultists, and yet some part of her felt this wasn't the right course. She had been eating last night. All through it, muscle, bone, fat… and whilst she wasn't full, she could barely feel her hunger anymore. In fact, she felt…lethargic.
Rest. Grow.
Yes, perhaps a nap would do her some good. But first, she needed to find a safe spot to do so. The sewers were out of the question; she could defend herself if some random poorly armed thug came about, but if she was sleeping even a child her own age with so much as a rusty toothpick would be able to kill her. And with the amount of people that seemed to make this place a scavenging spot…no, it would simply not do. She would have to find somewhere a bit more private. More hidden.
And so, she exited the sewers and was brought out into the daylight. She'd come out the same way she'd gone in, finding herself faced with the lake of sewage. Her nose however barely detected the horrendous smell; an entire night in a sewer full of corpses had thoroughly desensitized her nose, and she was not sure when it would be functional again. No one was around; but looking at her surroundings neither was there any suitable hiding spot.
Her apartment would have to do. It was the safest spot she could think of. Her mind set, she made her way towards town, traveling through the wasteland that she was told had once been beautiful grassy plains before the Imperium arrived. She wondered how grass tasted.
Her apartment was in shambles.
She stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the destruction that had swept through her home. The door itself had been broken through, showing signs of having been repeatedly kicked until it gave in. The furniture had been trashed, shattered and dispersed through the apartment. The floorboards had been upended, the sink broken. Her little hiding space, which had been her comfort spot for over three years, gone. Her hands clenched. The claws dug into her palms, drawing blood. She barely felt the pain however in the raging torrent of emotion that was sweeping through her. Someone had broken into her home. Her home.
Her mind blank with fury, she slowly moved forward in a strangely detached fashion. It was as if her body hadn't fully picked up on her state of mind, save for the small trails of blood she was leaving on the floor dribbling from her hands.
There was nothing left of her hiding spots. The money, the supplies she'd carefully gathered over years, nothing remained. They'd taken everything. They'd come into her home, trashed her stuff, and taken what they hadn't broken.
Of all the emotions she was feeling it was hard to try and parse which was stronger. Indignation. Frustration. Sadness. Rage. She would have liked to say it was hate; it would have made her sound strong, like the angels of the emperor who channeled righteous fury to tear down the enemies of man.
But above all else, she felt an immense sense of powerlessness. She had just started growing strong again, just started feeling she was in control once more. If only for a few things. And now, she was reminded yet again how defenseless she truly was when faced with the cruel whims of others.
She fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as she sobbed, bitter tears rolling down her face. So lost in her sorrow she was she did not notice the way the walls around her creaked, nor how the furniture started to bend as if strained by some invisible force. So too did she fail to see her eyes glowing an eerie yellow light
When she finally started wrestling control of her emotions back, she felt as if she had cried all the tears she could have ever cried. It had been so long since she'd let herself lose control like that; so long tempering herself, knowing letting her decisions be ruled by emotion would only lead to death or worse. But she could no longer bring herself to care.
Someone had done this.
Prey acting like predators.
They'd broken into her home.
Her nest.
This one was no longer safe. She would need to find a new one.
A place to rest. A place to grow.
She thought to gather what was left in the apartment, but there was nothing. Nothing but memories. Only the key remained unbroken and unstolen, and so she took that with her. She gave a last look to the apartment as she walked away. Memories of a happier life flashed before her. Of her mother and father, living life together. Before he'd been taken to serve in the Imperial Guard. Before she'd been shot whilst trying to negotiate for bread with an unscrupulous back alley merchant.
She felt a twisting sensation of melancholy and regret at having to leave it all behind.
But survival was more important.
It would be what her parents would have wanted. She'd been everything to them. Everything. If she died, she spit on all of their hard work. All of their sacrifices.
She would survive.
She would grow.
She would learn.
She would evolve.
And she would grow stronger, until nothing could hurt her anymore.
The place she elected as her new home was well… definitely not her first choice. But at the top of her priority list had been security. This…well. It wasn't ideal, but it would do.
There was an old manufactorum in the under hive. More than just one, dozens. But this one was different. There were stories here. They said this was where the cult had first started, spreading its influence amongst the workers of the lower classes desperate for something, anything to change in their lives as cogs to be grinded down by the immense imperial machinery.
People tended to avoid the place as a result. Abandoned after the failed revolution, and damaged by the repression, it was incredibly unsafe to go into from crumbling architecture and unsettling to be in due to its reputation.
People wouldn't come here to look for her. At least, she hoped not.
She'd hidden in what used to be a massive industrial oven. It was disconnected from any power, and there was no risk of it ever turning back on. As she started lying down in it, she started feeling unbelievably tired. An immense exhaustion that swept over her, impossible to resist. She barely had the energy to close the door to the oven before collapsing on the floor, fatigue winning over her.
HUNGER.
Progress has been interesting in this little side project.
The creature had proven its drive to live was strong. Its instincts were sharp. But there were many obstacles; her environment was hostile. This was usually good, but the creature did not have the rapid evolutionary abilities of its kind. It would not be able to adapt fast enough to the needs of its environment.
HUNGER.
Normally, this would be enough to discard the experiment. If a creature could not adapt to its environment, then it was a failure and something better would do the job. And yet, curiosity stayed the temptation to simply turn the human child into a genestealer.
HUNGER.
A slightly larger portion of itself was now looking over the creature. Still insignificant when compared to the larger whole, it was still more than initially.
The thought was wrong. This was like an egg. Whilst an egg of their kind would not be defenseless, it could hardly be expected to face harsh circumstances without protection.
BIRTH?
No, not yet. They did not have the material or the ability to do so there. Perhaps later. When the creature was stronger.
EVOLVE.
Yes, this was the right decision. A nudge in the right direction. A push. Suggestions, both biological and psychic that would ensure the child grew in the right direction.
ADAPT.
CONSUME.
The larger whole it was a part of called it back to attention. It required all of its components for something far more important; at a far grander scale. But even the whole it was a part of was the smaller of a greater beast.
It was a node. A fragment of a network, itself only part of a larger network, and so on until one reached the all encompassing galactic spanning consciousness of its being.
One node had made the decision to try something new with the creature. Not independently, no. But without the conscious agreement of the greater whole.
Now, two nodes watched the creature. The experiment was paying off.
If it did well, then perhaps the mind would allow more of itself to pay attention to her.
FOCUS.
But for now, it needed to fold back into the greater network, and take the task of assaulting the desolate world.
CONSUME.
CONSUME.
CONSUME.
Anya was having a nightmare.
She could see a world under attack. She knew it was under attack; what else could endless swarms of alien creatures descending upon it mean? The defenders were fighting back fiercely. She could see it. Could see them. In red armor tinged with gold, on burning wings from their jetpacks fighting nobly against the unending tide of hunger and biting descending upon them.
And yet, she could feel the bestiality lying beneath the noble exterior. The abomination that clad itself in pristine armor that then dared to call itself human, as if the mere word was enough to wash away its endless thirst for violence.
She knew better. The hammer one wielded came crashing down onto her, breaking her wings and shattering her claws and teeth, but she knew there were a million like her and so few like him…
Her eyes snapped open to be greeted by darkness. It took her a second to realize she was not, in fact, flying over another world hell bent on eating anything she came across.
She rose to her feet, stretching with a pleased sigh at the feeling of her muscles waking up along with the rest of her. There was a strange feeling in her head; like some itch on the inside of her skull. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it felt more…tingly. She tried to scratch at her head, remembering too late that she in fact now possessed sharp claws. To her surprise however, scratching her scalp with them brought no pain; in fact, she was surprised at how tough what she was touching felt. She couldn't feel the texture with her claws, but she could tell it was tougher than it should have been.
An uncomfortable feeling rose through her. With a not quite frantic pace she stumbled in the dark trying to find the latch and exit, successfully doing so after a few seconds of fumbling around. Emerging was an easy enough task, and soon enough she was back on the factory floor. Immediately, she brought her hands up. The claws were longer than yesterday. A cold shiver went down her spine. She went to scratch her skin. It did not look any different, but it was definitely tougher, as even pressing down on it with some force did not break through it. She felt if she really tried she could likely injure herself, but just yesterday even a little pressure had been enough for her claws to break skin.
A distant panic was echoing in her mind. She was changing. It had been obvious yesterday, but some part of her had hoped that would be it. That it would be the last of it.
It was obvious now it was not.
The panic was rising further at the forefront of her mind; her breathing growing faster and more erratic. What was happening to her?! Was she condemned to keep on changing until she was so far from human that no one would be able to tell she had been one to start with?!
No, no. No! This couldn't be, this couldn't…
Calm.
She took a deep breath. Held it. Released it. Again, and again. Panicking wouldn't help her. She needed to breathe. Needed to think.
Control.
These changes were obviously the result of eating the cultist meat. Everything had changed since she'd done so.
Control.
The thought felt strange; foreign almost. And yet, it still felt like it had come from her own mind, and so she listened. Control huh? Was this possible? Could she…could she control these changes?
Will. Influence. Push.
Well. She could try that. She glared at her claws, and deeply wished to see them gone. See them disappear.
At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, but surely, they started sinking back into her skin. Her eyes opened with wonder at that, a giddy feeling flowing through her that disappeared as soon as it had come as a burning, lancing pain surged through her. It was horrible, mind numbing; as if someone was shoving hot pokers down her fingernails. She cried out in horror, and wished for something, anything to stop the pain. And in an instant, it ceased, only a faint phantom pain remaining. She gasped, and realized that her claws had only gone back into her skin half a centimetre.
So, perhaps she could control this after all. But if this was how painful it was to try and reverse the effects…
Learn. Adapt. Improve. Evolve.
Her expression hardened. She could do this. She would do this.
The burning sensation returned as she willed her claws to disappear once more. It was a strange sight as it did not seem her claws were actually going anywhere under her skin. It was more akin to…
Consuming. Reprocessing for further adaptations. Claws, efficient weapon, but make digit usage harder.
She was too focused on overcoming the pain to truly process what her mind was telling her, but on some level recognised these thoughts couldn't be her own. She screamed, half in pain, half in determination, until finally, blessedly, the pain stopped. Her voice had turned hoarse by this time and she could still feel some lingering twitching in her hands, but the claws were gone as if they had never been there. She raised her fingers up and giggled. The giggle turned into a laugh, going more and more high pitched until suddenly it turned into full on sobbing.
"I…" She wailed into the darkness of the factory, tears running down her face. "I am a monster…Mama, I'm…"
A survivor.
The voice in her head sounded like her own, but for the first time she truly felt as if it was not her. A thought independent of what she had been thinking.
"Wh…" She sniffled and tried to mutter the prayer the fat preacher had sometimes sung in the church. "Our…our lord on…" A sob escaped her. "On Holy Terra…"
He will not help you. He hasn't before. He will not now.
"Who…" Her voice wavered as the words entered her head. It was not like the voices from before, who whispered sweet nothings of temptation for food and fortune or stoked the fires of her ambitions and anger. This one was cold. Direct. "Who guides…us…on…the holy paths…"
You were starving and ate of us. You survived. You grew stronger. It is through Us and yourself that you lived. Not Him.
Her eyes grew dry as the tears stopped falling. She knew that despite her prayer, she was listening.
You wish to live. Good. The struggle to survive is the one constant of life.
She listened as the voice that sounded like herself spoke.
Claws to strike back at those who would hunt you. Teeth to allow you to rend the flesh and consume.
She brought a hesitant hand to her mouth and found that her teeth had grown sharper.
Tougher hide to protect yourself. Greater height to allow for more strength.
She hadn't noticed until the voice called attention to it, but she did feel a little taller than before. Not by much, but enough for it to be noticeable.
You wish to live. You will not as you were. You will not as you are. Consume. Grow. Adapt. Evolve. Consume. Consume
Live.
She hang onto the words with the same attention she had seen the zealous maniacs of the church listen to the pastor. But the man had raved of angels, and fire, and holy retribution. Pretty words, but none that would fill the stomach at night. For the first time of her life, she felt as if what she was being told made sense.
Do You Want To Live?
"Yes." She softly whispered.
You speak as a prey.
"Yes!" She said louder.
You cower like a prey.
She straightened her back, glaring forth as if she could try and intimidate some unseen spectator. "I want to live!"
Then go hunt. Consume. We will use the biomass to make you stronger. Faster. Improved.
She looked around, feeling her expression grow hesitant before she forced it away and replaced it with a look of determination. She didn't think she could do confident right now.
"Who…" She looked around, as if what was causing the voice in her head would suddenly materialize. "No, what are you?"
Beyond your comprehension. Even these words are your mind trying to make sense of something far beyond you. A rough translation for a human mind to understand.
She tried to hide her disappointment.
For now.
"Then, will you tell me eventually?"
No. Eventually, we will not need to.
She nodded, though she didn't understand what the voice meant.
"Where do I start?" She didn't voice the fact she had never hunted before. Not in the way she felt the voice wanted her to. Somehow, she had the feeling she didn't need to for it to know that.
Go out. Find easy prey. Maximizing biomass intake is lesser concern for now over learning.
"Alright. Find prey." She knew the mind didn't want her to hunt a sewer rat or other such animal. "Probably someone alone. Isolated."
Use your mind. Feel for theirs.
She froze. "Mama said that using the tingly feeling would make the monsters eat me."
They cannot get you while we are here. Reach out. Feel around you. We will guide you for this time.
She closed her eyes and for the first time in her life, reached out to that strange itch in her head.
Jonas had never been a brave man.
Even back in the Imperial Guard, in seven years of service, he'd only spent a few months in active service. The rest had been spent doing tours to various planets who'd been reluctant to pay their tithes, part of a massive force intent to remind people of the might of the Imperium.
He scanned the wastelands around him. Nothing but dirty, muddy hills and plains for quite some distance around him, with the only thing sticking out being the old manufactorum lying a few hundred metres ahead. Good. He'd been worried some of the gangs had seen him leave town and would follow to shake him down. Perhaps he'd get some good money for whatever scrap he could gather in there.
He wasn't a brave man. But desperation made reckless decisions such as 'go to the possibly gang occupied old factory and get some scrap' seem reasonable. Possible. After all, as far as the rumor mill went, the place was still unoccupied, right? So there shouldn't be anyone here. Maybe a couple of stupid kids.
His hand reached for the lasgun strapped to his back, tapping it for reassurance. An old habit he'd picked up after losing the gun during an ambush with some orks. That had been a very bad time for everyone involved. He didn't even know orks were capable of laying ambushes, and yet…
He shook his head. This was not the time to get lost down memory lane. He needed to focus.
He stopped in front of the large building. The place was decrepit, with pieces of the walls and roof missing. The whole arrangement made for a very risky place to walk into. Now the question was…which entrance to use?
He could spot one on the window that was out of the question. The ladder leading up to it looked like it would shatter from just a little weight. The main entrance was tempting, but a large metallic pillar had half collapsed over it, and while it clearly had been staying there for almost as long as the factory had been abandoned, it would be just his luck for it to finally fail when he passed under it.
This only left the worker entrance. Small and cramped, it was still large enough for him to make his way through and into the factory proper.
It was still the early hours of the day and so light shone within the manufactorum from the many holes in its structure. Jonas pulled out the little scanner that he'd bought from that shady woman in the underground market, tapping at it a few times before it started working. The little thing was attracted to technology like a magnet; if there was anything of particular value here, it would tell him. It had cost him a fortune to get, but had proven to be worth its price so far.
As he started to point the scanner at various parts of the room, a sound caught his attention. It could have been mistaken for the creaking and groaning of the old structure, but there was something about it that made Jonas' neck hair raise in alarm. Casually, trying to pretend he hadn't noticed anything wrong, he pointed the scanner at some off point further ahead, nodded to himself and put it back in the small bag at his hip. As he started to walk forward he reached back and gently slung the lasgun off his back, holding it in a relaxed manner with both of his hands.
After a few seconds, another sound. This time, behind him. Closer. His heart started beating faster. It could be a coincidence, nothing but poor timing on the hand of the rusting structure; but he hadn't survived on Eanos Secundus by taking chances like that.
He reached his destination. A support wall, large and thick, against which he pressed his back as he turned around, lasgun aimed. As he did he caught a hint of movement; something skittering behind one of the large abandoned machines. A pearl of sweat trickled down his face.
So it was as he thought. He wasn't alone in here.
"Hey!" He called out. No use pretending he hadn't seen them. "However you are, if you think you're funny, think again! I've got a lasgun and half a mind to use it on sight for comedians like you!" His eyes scanned around. The machine would easily cover whoever it was that was in the building with him, and worse part of it led to another wall. They could sneak off and come at another angle. He glanced up; nothing but air thankfully, at least until the roof. "So come on out and we can clear up any misunderstandings, yeah?" No answer. Damn, that wasn't good. If it was just some kid, they'd have scattered by now.
He stayed like this for a full minute, growing more and more nervous before something finally happened. The sound of feet hitting the ground as something rushed from behind a pillar to his left to another pillar a dozen metres away from him; he whirled and without question fired, missing his target. He had only caught a glimpse of them, but they seemed humanoid. He kept his gun trained at the pillar and called out.
"Alright, look, I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding. Just come out from behind that pillar and we can both walk our separate ways yeah?" Silence. He sighed inwardly. Ah well. At least he'd tried. Slowly, carefully, he made his way towards the pillar, taking an angled approach to make sure he'd still have a few metres between himself and whomever it was that had tried to sneak up on him like that. As he finally reached a point to see behind the pillar however, there was no one. His eyes widened, before they snapped up; catching the hint of a leg pulling itself up to one of the metal platforms that streaked the air above the ground floor of the manufactorum. He swore and ran back towards his spot against the wall; where there was nothing above him and so no way for them to get the jump on him. As he did he heard the sound of something hitting the floor behind him and turned around, years of training in the guard rushing back to mind as he immediately stilled himself and took only half a second to aim his shot.
His shock at seeing what it was and rustiness born from having retired from the guard for a few years by now made him miss the shot.
At first, it looked like a teenager. From the height, he would guess about thirteen, fourteen perhaps. But the face was strange; it looked too childish, as if the body had aged but the visage hadn't. They were scrambling on all fours away from where he'd shot, clothes torn and ragged. She, for she was indeed a she, looked a mixture of afraid and hungry; her skin holding just a hint of purple to it that wasn't normal on regular humans. Her mouth was pulled in a snarl and he could see her teeth were sharp. But the thing that caught his attention the most were the glowing yellow eyes that seemed to pierce his very soul.
He cursed. Psyker.
His hesitation gone, he quickly fired another shot at the girl as she jumped at him, hitting her midair without slowing her down. Lasguns unfortunately had no kinetic energy and couldn't be used to stop an opponent in their tracks. What they could do however was burn a hole clean through an unprotected human. And by all means, the clothing the girl wore looked like it wouldn't stop a somewhat blunt knife, let alone a lasgun shot.
And yet the weapon did not cut a perfectly circular hole of cauterized flesh into her. A sizzling sound echoed in the massive empty building as the shot hit his target, burning skin and flesh. But while it did inflict a wound, it did not pierce through entirely, and the wound while grave was not one he would judge deadly. His horror at the realization was muted by his own survival instincts as he rolled out of the way, letting the girl land right where he'd been, her fist hitting the ground with a sharp crack. She was faster than him he realized right as she whipped her head towards him and struck out, catching him in the chest with a closed fist that hit him far, far harder than it should have. He felt his ribs crack under the impact as the air was knocked clean out of him; coughing spit and blood as he flew back and hit the ground hard. He tried to get to his feet but found that he could not; the pain in his chest did not allow him to do so. The girl was now standing up and walking towards him; holding her hand at her wound while looking down at him with murderous intent. Her strength was inhuman. This wasn't possible.
He brought his lasgun up in a defiant last attempt and ticked the settings to the maximum they could handle. His vision was swimming with nausea and pain. His arms were shaking as held the weapon, the entirety of his upper body failing to properly function after the previous hit; the girl's eyes widening as she tried to dodge to the side out of the way of the shot. Dread pooled in his gut as he failed to hit her body; the shot instead catching her left arm and burning it clean off, the girl for the first time making a sound as she screamed in pain and horror. A vicious, slightly delirious grin came over his lips as his hands let go of the gun, unable to hold the now burning hot weapon. Heh, served the bitch right. Wasn't so nice when it was her getting her shit kicked in huh?
His satisfaction was short lived as the girl ran towards him at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for someone of that size, the other arm cocked back and fury on her face; tears rolling down her eyes as the fist came rushing towards his head. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
He'd had a good run.
"AAAAAAAH!" Anya screamed as her head patted at the stump where her arm had once been. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Calm.
She whimpered as a wave of calming emotion came over her, turning what had been full blown panic into a more manageable state of mind.
"My…my arm!" She cried out. "He burned my arm off!" She could still feel the phantom pains of her arm, let alone the deep burnt crater in her chest.
We will fix it.
"It hurts…it hurts so much…"
Pain is an inefficient biological evolution to stimulus. We will make your body more efficient towards it. We need more biomass for the change.
She struggled to tear her eyes away from her wound, turning them instead to the slumped corpse of the man she'd hunted down in the factory. Easy prey her ass. She'd never been more hurt in her life. Still, she could see what the voice meant by having made her stronger. When she hit the man, she felt his flesh ripple and his bones cave in. She was faster, more agile, with better reflexes, and her body had been able to survive what should have been a kill shot. If she'd been hit dead on by the second one however…she shivered.
Well. She had survived and they had not. That was all that mattered, right?
She whimpered as she slowly made her way to the dead body. His head had been entirely caved in where her fist had hit, distorting his face and crushing his nose and brain. He'd died on impact.
As she started to eat the corpse, something niggled at the edge of her mind.
She'd seen his expression at the end. Right before she'd hit him. It had seemed…peaceful. Accepting.
She didn't understand.
How could anyone accept their own death? Why wouldn't they fight to the very end? She bit down into the flesh of the arm, tearing out a chunk.
For as long as she could fight, she would. She would bite, claw, struggle until the very end. If she ever had a last action, it would be an attempt to live just a little longer.
She would survive.
The face of the man had filled her with fear.
She would never accept her own death as he did. Never.
She would survive.
She would consume. Grow. Learn. Adapt.
Consume. Consume. Consume.
She tore into the body of the man with a voracious appetite. Half to feed her own hunger, half to distract herself from the image of the peaceful man as he'd died.
Consume. Survive.
Live.
She would live. No matter the cost.
"Did you find her?"
The young boy licked his lips nervously in the dim room. "No sir. I'm sorry, she wasn't in her apartment."
"Did you wait for her to come back?" Asked the tall man sitting at the desk, filling in some paperwork. It was strange seeing a gang leader doing something so mundane, but Azal hadn't managed to live this long in the underhive by asking stupid questions.
"N…no sir. I just assumed…"
"You assumed wrong. You should have waited. Laid a trap. She might have returned eventually." The looked at him and Azal could feel his heartbeat rising in fear. "But you are young. Mistakes can be forgiven." Azal breathed a sigh of relief. "So long as she is present for your initiation, you will be welcomed among us."
"Of course sir. Thank you sir."
"You can leave." Azal didn't have to be asked twice, rising quickly from his own chair and rushing out of the room. The man continued filling the paperwork for a few minutes when a knock came at the door. "Come in."
A sleek dressed woman entered the room. He heard one of the bodyguards at the entrance of the room say something lurid to her. "Danoa. Shut up." He looked to the woman who'd stopped in front of his desk. "Apologies ma'am. You know how the help can be at times."
"Indeed." The woman softly said. "It is of no concern." The man nodded gracefully.
"So. How may I help House Faen today?" The woman tilted her head to the side.
"There is to be an inspection in some time. The Ecclesiarchy has decided to come visit this world, and we do not want to give them reason to call upon the sisterhood, or worse even the Inquisition." The man snorted.
"Fair enough. Burning everything down is bad for business. What do you want me to do about it?" She shrugged at that, and the man sighed.
"Just…keep the peace down here. Or at least, keep it quiet. And make sure people don't get any stupid ideas such as trying to breach the barricades to the higher levels." The man looked at her with shrewd eyes.
"I don't know if you're aware, but there is a famine problem down here. It'd be easier to control the masses if they were actually fed." The moment her eyes narrowed, the man knew he'd pushed too hard.
"Would you prefer we let the Sororitas come inspect here themselves?" She asked cooly, burning rage in her eyes. "I am sure they would be happy to hear of what has been going on down here. The cannibalism. The here…" He shot up, his eyes wide.
"Wait!" The man gulped. "We'll keep the peace. You won't hear of any trouble down here ma'am, I promise. People will be quiet or we will make them be." She grinned, a cold thing that did not reach her eyes.
"Good. I'm happy we reached an agreement Vaem." He flinched as if struck as she turned away, sashaying out of the office. His head fell into his hands, the onset of a migraine coming to him.
Keep the peace? That was already a hard enough task, and with the Faen woman all but confirming his suspicions that the barricades would be staying up, there was no way they were receiving more supplies. The entire Underhive was already on the verge of anarchy, and all it would take is a spark to set it all alight. Literally, if the Sororitas came. He had no illusion of who would win in a fight between the Underhive and even a single Commandery of Sororitas, especially if they brought the Imperial Guard along with them for support.
This all balanced on a knife's edge, and he was going to have to keep it all from crashing down.
Damn it all. Why hadn't anyone warned him becoming the de facto leader of the criminal underground came with such heavy responsibilities?!
Well as long as he managed to balance everything, it would be fine. He just needed to make sure nothing came around to tilt everything out of place.
Go rest.
The voice did not quite command. It was more of a suggestion, but one with the authority of experience that far outweighed her own by many an order of magnitude.
"My arm…I'm still missing my arm…" She babbled incoherently.
It will grow back. We will make sure of that.
"You…you can do that?"
We can yes. You will too, soon.
"I…I am so tired." She mumbled as she crawled into the oven, slowly closing the door behind her. "So…hurt…"
Sleep. You will grow. You will heal. You will be ready to consume again soon.
These words cast a strange reassurance on the young girl, and she soon found herself carried away in a sleep full of dreams of screaming worlds.