Shadow of a Doubt

Chapter 16

"Set. Breach." The door was blown open in and stun grenades were thrown in, the dark grey cylindrical tubes detonating with ear shattering bangs and blinding all those inside with iris burning white light. Cyprus moved in quickly with his hellgun raised up, firing in rapid double taps while Troiey followed behind him with his assault shotgun loaded down with flechette shells firing in loud blasts of powder discharges while Silas followed behind them with a suppressed autopistol fitted with a collapse stock and a high capacity magazine. Soft coughs echoed behind the screeches of the hellgun and the loud blasts of the assault shotgun. The room of cultists were torn apart by their assault, bodies with rib cages blasted open by hell bolts or chest cavities torn apart by flechette shells. Here and there were cultists that were dead from the precise three tiny holes in their skulls and the like, the handiwork of the assassin. Scanning left and then right quickly, Cyprus raised the muzzle of the hellgun and gestured towards the back of the former store. Troiey nodded as he flipped his shotgun upside down and began loading more shells in attached to bandoliers at his chest. Silas yawned slightly as he moved towards the back of the store front, stopping at a door to his right that probably led into a storage room of some kind and opened the door quietly, shoving it in wards. The assassin crouched and leaned to look into the room, seeing foul symbols painted over the walls and grimaced a little bit, his normally feminine features distorted in disgust. "We'll need flamers here for sure." Troiey remarked as the assassin turned his head to face them with a disgusted pouting look. Cyprus sighed before closing the door and taking out a can of spray paint out of his assault pack, painted a big orange X over the door and they moved on. This time Troiey took point and headed upstairs with his shotgun raised. Moving slowly upstairs, he would just step over the top floor before noticing all the bodies butchered in the room. Detached limbs with cult tattoos and carvings littered the ground, while heads rested on the floor separated from torso. Unfired weapons were laid on the floor, resting where they were dropped as their former masters were cut apart by some unseen fury.

It was only then Troiey realised that his shotgun had been ripped out of his hands by a black figure. The assault shotgun was tossed aside casually while a lithe limb kicked into his chest denting his body armour. The former arbite was kicked down the stairs, Cyprus moving out of the way before blasting away with his hellgun, howling blasts stitching the upstairs as he advanced while shooting. The former droptrooper Sergeant snarled as he moved upstairs only to have the black figure duck underneath the barrel of his hellgun, the attacker locking their right leg through his left and striking the side of his right leg at a precise spot, causing his leg to numb. With a quick elbow swung into his gut, the attacker sent the Elysian onto his back, the Sergeant quickly skittering back and drawing his hellpistol only to have it sent out of his hand by a stiletto tossed by the black clad figure. The only thing Cyprus could see was the figures purple eyes. Flipping onto his feet, he drew his combat blade and a small back up snub nosed auto pistol from the left side of his waist and aimed the pistol at the figure, firing as the large calibre compact auto pistol roared. Almost in defiance of time itself, the figure tilted its head at the right moment to avoid the first two rounds before in its left hand a needle pistol was produced and then the Sergeant felt only blackness. As the Elysian's body fell backwards, Silas vaulted over the falling body with a flourished twist as he sprayed the auto pistol in his hands at the figure, emptying the fifty round magazine before dropping the pistol onto the ground. He knew that none of the rounds would have hit the figure, having seen the way the figure fought, he knew exactly what they were.

Drawing the razor sharp blade from his back, the curved edged blade glinted in the dark and swung down, his opponent easily blocking the first strike with a combat blade that suddenly appeared in its hands only for Silas to drop down to a crouch faster than an eye can keep track of before the blade appearing in his left hand would be jabbed forward towards his opponents legs. His opponent twisted its body and would stamp down on his hand, disarming him before grabbing his sword arm and pulling him forward with her own blade waiting. Silas grimaced before flipping back and jabbing one of his legs into his opponents chest, shoving it backward before charging again. This time he slid down low and swung his left hand with the combat blade towards the their leg while at the same time he tossed the blade like a spear towards where he figured his opponent most likely to dodge. Instead his opponent flipped themselves backwards and kicked the tossed blade out of the air before looking at him with purple eyes that held amusement. Silas blew a strand of his hair from the side of his lips with annoyance as the figure then bounded out of a window and disappeared onto the street. At this point, Cyprus and Troiey were both coming around, awaking from their forced naps.

"There's another assassin here?" The Inquisitor asked pensively. Silas nodded with an annoyed pout on his face while her other two acolytes stood beside the table shamefully rubbing bruises and the like on their torsos. Cyprus had been hit with a sleep toxin instead of a murderous one while Troiey had been knocked out by his fall down the stairs. "Well they are definitely an assassin; the bodies were cut apart quite skillfully and the attack was of utter surprise. It doesn't even seem like the cultists were able to fire off a single shot." Silas answered as he lounged on a couch at the side of the room while Cyprus and Troiey both looked at each other. The message was clear, they were no match for an assassin. "Which temple, were you able to recognize it?" "Callidus without a doubt darling." The shameless assassin replied as he stretched himself out. The Inquisitor bit her lips and looked over at her two more militant acolytes. "I'm surprised Cyprus, you and Troiey both taken out rapidly. I didn't think there would be a match in the galaxy for you two short of an Astartes." Cyprus looked at her sheepishly and shrugged while her Interrogator pretended he didn't hear her. "This proves interesting. Someone else is here, and I intend to find out who it is." There were still cults being stamped out around the capital city bit by bit, but it would return to Imperial control soon enough. When the Inquisitor had asked Kyreg who the new Governor should be, he shrugged casually and waved an armoured hand at her. She got the feeling that the Legionnaire Commander cared little about mortal governance as long as they were loyal to the Throne.

The PDF was being rebuilt bit by bit, this time those in the country side had been offered positions in them and many took up arms gladly to prevent a tragedy such as this from ever being renacted again. This time, the PDF was to be based out of the capital, the only major city on the planet. Barracks were being constructed while armouries and forges were being created, the Adeptus Mechanicus being coaxed back from their underground lairs having hidden away from the chaos above ground to create weapons for the PDF. Of course an Inquisitorial Rosette helped in convincing them of the importance of such a task. Yet the governor's position remained open even while the other aspects of the government were being rebuilt. She had interviewed countless candidates, the nobles having all perished by the direction of the XX Legionnaires who had decreed that the nobles were the first to fall and thus had them executed. It was a brutal act that sent a message to the entire planet, but it had also made her job much easier. So far the only one who seemed to be fit for the job was a man named Francis Dewalker, a former Imperial Guard officer that had retired from a regiment of the 116th Armageddon that had settled onto the planet. The inquisitor examined the papers and stamped her Inquisitorial seal on it and sighed, before one of the Administratum came in and bowed to her, picking up the signed paper work and would inform the newly stated governor. An inquisitorial assent was one of the highest backings available to a planetary governor but also it did not need to be said that failure would be punished by the Inquisition itself.

Can you sense it Farseer? The warp opens again. The Aeldari corsair ship the Lillith Moon was in orbit itself, cloaked by technology far more advanced than anything Imperial. At the same time they detected only the now lifeless wreck of the Chaos vessel that had been only weeks ago operational. Lillithfeon looked at the dead vessel and frowned slightly. She nodded in answer to the psychic words of Exarch Yiliea, the leader of the Dire Avengers on board. The Corsairs had treated them quite well on the journey, although she knew that after this was over, the price of the bargain would be paid. She had prepared herself for this, knowing what the Prince's intent was. A farseer was a powerful sign of validity on board a corsair ship, and the prince hoped to give himself legitimacy. So be it, it is a small price to be paid in order to recover the hundreds of soul stones that had been lost. Farseer. My men and I shall proceed onto the planet with you. The webway gates will be activated soon. Speaking of the Prince, she acknowledged his thought message and would send a psychic acknowledgement back towards him. His arrogance was truly disgusting but he offered assistance when she had needed it most. For that she will tolerate him for now.

The warp indeed opened up and through flew an Imperial cruiser with the large stylized 'I' of the Inquisition. The Aeldari vessel was cloaked from its sensors but they kept their distance regardless. The Inquisitional Cruiser hovered in orbit as it began to deploy its Thunderhawks, sending five of them down to the planet. Lillithfeon looked at the Imperial vessel and closed her eyes for a moment in thought. Prince. We must deploy then. Soon there will be too many mon'keigh on the planet for us to fulfil our plans. The reply came quickly. Very well Farseer, I shall see you in the webway deployment area.

"Commander. Inquisitional cruiser just showed up. Time to go to ground." Centurion Maygis would intone to the Commander, Xythos having returned to the planet but Gungnir still had not. "Sergeant. Inquisitional forces approach. Go to ground brother." Rythor would nod before sending out a vox message to the G 6-7 team leaders. Soon all of the 8th assets would pull out of the city and made their way back to the Outpost where it would be secured. Sentry teams deployed however all around the Outpost in order to maintain surveillance. As well, stealth cloaked servo skulls would be deployed to maintain a wide field of view around the Outpost as well as around the Lorhenge itself. Rythor was glad that for the duration of the battle, they had only shown their true colours in front of the Inquisitors themselves as well as the Theta Grenadiers. As far as everyone else had seen, they had worn the black armour of an unknown Astartes Chapter. Regardless, the Inquisitor would be something that they would have to watch for.

The five Thunderhawks would land in front of the Governors palace, an honour guard of PDF soldiers already waiting their arrival. The Governor himself, Francis Dewalker would be there in a plain dark blue adepts robe. Beside him stood Inquisitor Laneth along with her body guard the Watchmaster and her acolytes. As the ramps moved down and opened, a power armoured figure would walk down the steps followed by a younger man in a long dark grey trench coat. Behind him marched a series of Priests who flung holy water every step they walked. The Governor would step up and bowed deeply. "Inquisitor, I am Governor Francis Dewalker, I hope I may be of service to you Lord." The Inquisitor nodded and looked over at Laneth. "Inquisitor Rendalvel, Ordo Hereticus." The man in power armour nodded and smiled. "I am Inquisitor Gregori Heinzman and this is my acolyte Mikhail Sanova. We are responding to a distress call on the planet that my ship picked up, a report of a rebellion? I see that as you are Inquisitor, I sincerely hope that the issue has been dealt with?" The Governor nodded. "Yes my Lord. We are still hunting down the remains of the chaos cult here but the assistance here provided by the Inquisitor has been extremely helpful." Gregori smiled with a set of pure white teeth. "Excellent Governor. In that case then Governor, I must then request your hospitality. My ship requires re-supply you see, I have just come from battle against renegades and I am pitifully low on ammunition as well as supplies on board." The governor smiled and nodded. "Of course Lord, I am sure that our adepts can confer and figure out the best solution." The Inquisitor nodded and turned to look around at the city. "Emperors blood Inquisitor Laneth, what happened here?" Laneth laughed with fatigue in her voice and shrugged slightly. "Oh typical chaos. Not happy just trying to kill everyone, they must ruin the only proper living quarters here as well. Not that the Astartes who helped us gave much concern either." Gregori raised an eyebrow with a smile. "Astartes? Have they already left then?" Laneth nodded as did the Governor. "Yes, they were a passing cruiser of the Storm Warriors who assisted us. The dead chaos cruiser in orbit was their doing of course as was many.. of these destroyed structures."

"Excellent, excellent then. I had feared that I must expend the remainder of my ammunition stocks in order to put this planet back into the Emperors light again. Well in that case, I shall not trouble you all anymore and will instead try to find satisfactory quarters in the city then. Any suggestions?" Laneth grinned a little bit and would point over to the west. "If you wish for convenience, the Ibris Nautica is still standing somehow. It's a drinking hall with rooms upstairs. If you wish for comfort, then you would have to leave the city and journey to the country side where the battles have not been as intense." Inquisitor Gregori nodded and smiled in thanks and before heading over to the west of the city, followed by his Interrogator who bowed to Laneth before departing as well as the small entourage of priests. "I don't like the looks of him." Silas muttered softly under his breath while Cyprus raised an eyebrow at the assassin. "Truly? You? Not liking the look of someone in pompous gilded armour?" Silas shrugged slightly. "He looks too pompous to be someone who just fought a battle against heretics." Troiey would chime in as well this time. "I agree, his Thunderhawks are far too well maintained to have just come back from a battle somewhere."

"They are hiding something." Interrogator Mikhail stated while Gregori nodded a little. "Of course they are. They are Inquisitors. All of us have our own secrets." Mikhail nodded in agreement. Of course some secrets were darker than others.

The Inquisitor opened his eyes and glanced around the desert around him. He smelled only the acrid scent of battle, the air was filled with the ion scent of plasma discharges. The sweet scent of propellant and even worse, the ozone scent of planetary level lances. He would walk past the ruins of structures that could have once been called beautiful, with symbols of the Emperors worship cast onto the ground and razed. Everywhere he walked, he could see shell casings from bolt guns as well as see the scorches of energy weapon discharges over walls and the remainders of such. He would reach down and found himself unarmed, his bolter pistol no longer holstered at his side nor his power maul in its sheath at his belt. He would try his vox a few times, hearing only blanket static leaving moving forward the only available option to him. He kept walking into the center of the destroyed city, where he could see corpses still smouldering, and blood still liquid on the ground. Standing in the middle was an Astarte, armoured in full black from head to toe. The Astarte looked at him and placed a single finger in front of his vox grill, signing for him to be quiet and then waved the Inquisitor over. Gregori trudged over and the Astarte nodded as if in approval, a phobos pattern bolter held in his hands and began walking forward. The armour was old, a relic armour by all rights. Mark III power armour, it made him wonder where he was. He followed the Astarte who moved forward with a purpose, leading him through various alleyways and streets until he could see out into the plains.

Gregori woke up with a loud gasp, the sound prompting his Interrogator to barge in with an auto pistol scanning the room. Gregori waved slightly as he got up from his bed, his body sweat drenched as he gratefully accepted a thin bottle of water from Mikhail who looked at him curiously. "An odd dream, that is all." His Interrogator nodded as Gregori drained the entire bottle of water in a series of thirsty gulps. "Have they been happening more often?" Mikhail had holstered the auto pistol now, the young man having been raised from a black ship under Gregori's tutelage from a very young age. The Inquisitor nodded and sighed gently as he set the empty bottle down. "This time I saw an Astarte. In all black power armour, and he seemed to be leading somewhere. It is odd though, the Astarte… he was in ancient power armour. Very ancient. I have not seen another example of the one he wore except for the ones from the First Founding Chapters. Even then those suits of armour were worn by chosen veterans, not simply just distributed out."

Mikhail nodded and quickly grabbed another bottle of water from a small bar at the side of the room and placed it beside the Inquisitor, who nodded gratefully. With a bow, he exited the room and would go back to the couch where he slept, covering himself with a large comforter before laying back down. Gregori however laid awake and thought about what he had seen before closing his eyes again to try and get more rest.

"I hope you had a good night's sleep Inquisitor. I know that our accommodations are lack luster in comparison to many other worlds but I hope you'll make allowances due to the conflict we just had." Governor Francis bowed as the Inquisitor entered his office, the Rosette holding much more influence than a simple appointment book. The purple eyed receptionist had just bowed when the Inquisitor had entered and asked to see the Governor, gesturing them forward without a word. It was something that Gregori had gotten used to over many decades of service. "I slept well Governor, do not fear. I am quite grateful for your hospitality, and even more grateful that you have deigned to see me on such short notice." When the Inquisitor had entered, the Governor was just looking over reports with a fresh mug of recaff and a pastry on a plate in front of him. Seeing the Inquisitor, he had quickly ordered another mug and another pastry for his new guest. Gregori bit into the crispy skinned soft pastry, noting with surprise that it seemed to have a rather delicate citrus cream filling. "These are excellent Governor, truly. Can I perhaps be persuaded to have the recipe for these?" The Governor chuckled nervously and wrote an address on a small piece of paper before handing it to the Inquisitor. "I'm afraid I do not possess such a thing, but we do order them from a small bakery here. Their production is quite slow at the moment as they are rebuilding as well but I am sure they will not disappoint you my Lord."

Gregori chuckled and handed the piece of paper to Mikhail, who looked at the address and would make a note to send staff to pick some up. "I'm sure I will not be. I must confess Governor, I have a weakness for pastries. I do not drink, nor do I smoke. But a well-made pastry, well I hope the Emperor pardons me my only vice." Governor Francis looked at him unsure whether or not it was a joke or not. Even planetary Governors did not laugh at Inquisitors lightly. "Onto business however. I must give commendations to your Adepts, Governor. The issue of my lowly stocked magazines seemed to have been rectified and even as we speak, there are workers moving crates upon crates of ammunition on board my Thunderhawks. I hope that you will be sure to send me the bill, an Inquisitorial expense account is rather vast you see." Francis smiled and nodded before bowing his head. "Thank you Lord. I am glad to be of service." Gregori nodded and stood up, walking to the windows and looking outside. "Ah yes, the newly reformed PDF. Tell me Governor, what steps are being taken to ensure their loyalty? I have read the reports from my colleague which stated that the heresy itself started from the Governor and the PDF." Now Francis looked really nervous. "Well Lord, that is something that the Lady Inquisitor and I have been discussing. Do I ask for Commissars to be attached to them? I do not even know quite frankly whether or not Segmentum Command will even allow such a thing. I came from the Guard sir, but I must confess I have never seen a PDF with Commissars attached." Gregori nodded at the man's answer. It was an honest one, and that is something the Inquisitor appreciated. "I am in agreement Governor. Such information is one that escapes me as well. I believe however that steps should be taken. Even if you are to establish your very own Commissariat. That is something that does not lack precedence after all." The Governor nodded as well and would place a few sheaths of reports on the desk from a large file folder. "That is what was suggested to me by the Lady Inquisitor. Her advice of course is something that I do take rather seriously.." It went unsaid that replacing Imperial Governors seemed to be at least half of what the Inquisition seemed to do. "Excellent. I'm glad to hear of it. In that case I will not take up any more of your time." The Governor stood up and saw him off to the front door, the receptionist standing up and bowing as well while the Inquisitor and the Interrogator walked past.

"What do you make of the Governor Mikhail?" Gregori would ask once they had exited the governors palace. "Inexperienced. And I'm sure scared absolutely shitless of Inquisitor Laneth who seems to be monitoring him quite closely." The young Interrogator answered. The Inquisitor has not asked for any escorts, only his personal driver and a staff car. Mikhail opened the door for his master, and got in after him. "Driver, please make a detour. There is a pastry shop that my Lord wishes to patronage."

"Sometimes sir, I truly wonder if you're here to seek heretics or if you're here to seek out new pastries." Mikhail looked over disapprovingly at Gregori who had forgone the power armour he had arrived in, choosing instead to wear a rather much more discreet businessman outfit with inlaid ceramic body armour in the form of a more formal vest over his shirt. Currently, the Inquisitor had a box of the small cream horn pastries and was currently enjoying one of them while getting powdered sugar over the expensive leather interior. "Mikhail, you will learn this as you get older. Throughout all that you have seen and that you will see, you must find some solace and joy in at least one thing in the galaxy because every other aspect of your life will be filled with terrible things that you can never forget." The Interrogator sitting beside him nodded slightly as the car began turning towards the main street in order to get back to the drinking hall they currently resided in. It was then that the driver would blanch at the display in the car and pulled it off to the side. "Sorry Lord, it appears we have a flat." The Inquisitor nodded nonchalantly as he sipped from a paper cup filled with a rather deliciously fragrant recaff while Mikhail would sulk slightly, sipping from a paper cup filled with hot cocoa. The weather here was not terribly cold but it was not warm either. Being technically underground, it seemed to be in a perpetual state of autumn rather than any true winter or summers. Gregori smiled a little, it seemed that it would be a long time before he truly got through to Mikhail. The young man was devoted to his job, without any singular hobbies aside from the job. He had seen this many times before and it always lead to one thing at the end; corruption. Eventually he will become the very thing that he seeks to stop. That is exactly how it happens, how respected Inquisitors are driven over the edge.

The sudden howl of a las discharge could be heard, the Inquisitor and Mikhail both looking up as the driver was knocked down by a las bolt straight through the head. Then as one, both sides of doors had their locking mechanisms struck, the las bolts melting the circuitry controlling the lock and unlock of the rear doors. Mikhail quickly dropped his cup and drew his auto pistol and flicked the safety off while the Inquisitor would sigh and gently placed his cup down on a cup holder while drawing his bolt pistol. For a few moments, nothing happened. "We're trapped in here Inquisitor. We have no way of getting out." The man grimaced and considered firing into the window but decided that if the shot ricocheted, it was going to kill one of the men inside. Then from the various alleyways exited black uniformed men with full gas masks that covered their features, with Cadian pattern las guns that were common enough it provided no information as to their origins. Their leader looked at a time piece and waited simply. That's when the Inquisitor realised that perhaps they had been drugged and in a few seconds, both men collapsed onto each other as the toxins in their beverages finally took a hold of them.

Seeing the two men collapsed inside, lascutters were brought forward and the doors were carefully cut out and the two men were removed and thrown into the back of four vehicles that drove into the street. The armed men boarded the vehicles before they took off, leaving the dead driver and the cut apart staff car there on the street. The vehicles would speed through the streets, heading south and taking the occasional turn into an alleyway before finally the small convoy would turn down a main street and enter an underground parking lot that had existed from before the war. However anyone that followed into the underground parking lot would not find a single trace of the black vehicles that had taken the Inquisitor away.

He opened his eyes and saw sand again. The desert around him still there as he took a deep breathe in of the acrid air. He looked around only to see the black armoured Astarte standing there, as if waiting for him. The Astarte would repeat the gestures again, a single armoured finger in front of his vox grill and then a wave, gesturing for him to follow. He would follow the Astarte again through the mazes of the destroyed city until he would see the plain again. A large open plain with massive Stormbirds as well as Thunderhawks alike. He could see the golden coloured crafts of the Legios Custodes, as well as a bright golden figure that stood out in his mind above all. He was about to speak when the Astarte would place an armoured finger in front of the Inquisitors face this time and shook his head. The message was clear, do not speak. Dumbfounded, he obeyed and continued to look. Behind the Emperor stood Astartes, Astartes that he recognized. Ultramarines. They stood in a long line that seemed to stretch for miles while golden armoured Custodians stood behind the Emperor. Almost as if someone was lifting a mist from his eyes, he saw them as well. Dusk blue armoured Astartes cradling sniper rifles covered with cameoline cloaks. Dust was smeared on their armour, rendering them almost invisible but for some reason, he could see them all. And then standing in front of the Emperor was a figure in a beautifully crafted suit of power armour. Behind him were tens of thousands, no, more than one hundred thousand Astartes in gilded grey power armour. It could be seen however that a few thousand here and there wore dark red. Those he didn't recognize but he soon uttered a cry of pain as his psychic senses were overwhelmed and he was forced onto his knees. As he looked up, he saw that every single one of the silver armoured Astartes was on their knees, as well as the much taller figure that stood in front of the Emperor. The black clad Astarte it seemed, was not affected.

"My son, why do you defy me still? Why? In my campaign to unite all of Earth, I burned every church on the planet that sought to entreat with deities. Every icon of religion has been cast down as my crusade reaches the stars and beyond. Why then still, must you disobey me?" The voice could only have been that of the Emperors, the voice radiating infinite power. It was a voice that humbled those that heard it but yet had a sense of command to it that he could not explain. As if the voice itself was the paragon of all that mankind could be, and it would be recognized by all of humanity as their true ruler. He looked at the scene in front of him, struck dumb and mute by the sheer majestic qualities of the Emperor. "Tell me Lorgar. Did you give me your loyalty, your fealty on Colchis? Your brother Magnus was there as witness. So tell me my son, why do you still defy my edict on religion? There is only the Imperial Truth and I tire of your inefficiencies. You spend months converting a planet while your brothers have moved on to bring more glory to mankind."

"Father, I only seek to show people your rightful role.. I only sought to give you the worship which must be demanded!" Lorgar spoke in reply to the Emperor, his voice holding not even a candle up to the potency that was the Emperor yet it still had an overwhelmingly rich quality to it. "Enough! This is your last chance Lorgar. Will you serve me as a loyal son or will you continue to defy my edicts?" Lorgar bowed his head in submission and the Emperor nodded. As one, the dusk blue armoured Astartes would withdraw from their position, moving silently past the black armoured Astarte and Gregori almost as if they were not truly there. In minutes, the Legionnaire snipers had disappeared into the dusty terrains.

The Emperor seemed to nod in satisfaction as Lorgar continued. "I will serve Father. I will serve you the way you have commanded." The rightful ruler of mankind nodded once more before departing. Only when the Emperor and his Custodians had entered back into a golden Stormbird and taken off towards orbit did the Ultramarines do the same. They left the XVII legion there in the dust. As Lorgar stood up, his shoulders were hunched, no longer containing the passion which had characterized him. He commanded his Legion to stand as well and he made for his craft while his advisors followed him. The rest of the Legion seemed to just wander into small groups and make for their own transport crafts but they seemed.. lost. The Imperial Truth? The Inquisitor thought to himself before his black armoured guide gently shook his shoulders to get his attention. The Astarte looked at him as if to ask if he understood now. He nodded once, his mind in disarray as he tried to process what he had just seen. The Emperor despised religion. The Emperor despised worship of him. What then would the Emperor think now of the Churches in his name and the worship of Him by the Imperium?