Waiting beside the railway as the guards of Lorthanx went through her biometrics, Mable would be told by the local planetary defense trooper that it wasn't strange that a girl from the lower hive didn't have any identification. Seeming more than thrilled in getting another menial laborer, the trooper tasked to guard her told her how lucky she was, as, were she just a year younger, she likely wouldn't be given any attention at all.

Asking what that was supposed to mean, and then being told that individuals below the age of thirteen weren't legally allowed to attend a 'pre-schola-program' that the planetary defense forces could introduce volunteers for, as most planets tithed soldiers via conscription rather than searching for volunteers, Mable would just nod her head in confusion, not knowing what any of those words meant. Guessing the men thought she was wanting to sign up with the Imperial Guard after she had stated she was wanting to find employment in the spire, Mable would just nod along, and then be told that a medicae wanted to see her by a returning trooper.

Getting her head shaven, a chemical bath, and given genuine clothing, Mable felt quite confused as the female medicae warned her to drop the heirloom in a locker if she wanted to keep it. Guessing the woman meant the artefact, Mable would just nod along – not having any intention of doing so as Mister Orb remained static under scrutiny of this medical specialist. Feeling quite pained as she was injected twelve times in the arm, Mable would look at the medicae's small office – and then land her eyes on the brown uniform that had been folded and brought inside.

Told then that if she did well, then when she joined the 'Astra Militarum' she may get a support role rather than a combat one, Mable would be given the uniform, told to dress, and then leave with the trooper that escorted her into the office. Explaining she didn't know exactly what that meant, Mable was instructed on how to put on the uniform – her old rags and clothing being put into a canvas bag to be burned for later.

Leaving the medicae whose name hadn't even been given, Mable would start her new life as a cadet in a time period she wasn't even supposed to be alive.

She, along with around seven thousand other youths her age, were all assigned board within the lowest part of the spire of Lorthanx – the tallest structure in the lower hive, which protected the main railway into the middle hive. Spending most of their days cleaning, doing menial labor, and being taught how to read, Mable would truly enjoy the orderly and comradery focused lifestyle. Getting a single three hours a week on how to use the planetary defense's weaponry as well, Mable got to shoot a smaller version of the las-rifle that had once been pointed in her face – which was quite an interesting experience as Mister Orb slithered up to her arm from her sleeve and connected with the battery pack that immediately drained at its interference.

Unsure what to say as the drill instructor asked her what her malfunction was, Mable just showed off the dead battery pack, and then, as punishment, would be forced to shout 'bang, bang, bang,' instead of actually firing the weapon. More confused than embarrassed by the situation, Mable was then given introduction to a group of other female cadets who had thought the drill instructor's humiliation was hilarious. Only stating that she had done as asked, and she hadn't known why the battery hadn't worked, Mable would be told not to worry about it as her new 'friends' joined her for cleaning in their after-practice duties.

It was weird, having friends. Having never had anyone her own age to be around before – as the orphanage only had children in their infancy aside from her – Mable felt quite awkward when it came to conversating with people who tried to befriend her. Used to her older siblings and parents yelling at her, or ordering her to do things, Mable found that the instructors of the cadet program were far easier to deal with than her fellow cadets – and although she never ignored them, their conversations were hard to follow. They spoke easily, and had lives she couldn't relate to, some of the cadets being from families who were in the luxurious Administratum. Being asked questions about her own background, Mable was unsure what to really say, other than she was the daughter of a miner who had abandoned her… which was a story that gained her many sad looks, but none other in the cadet program could relate to. She wondered then, in that moment, what had brought youths into this spire if not for desperation… and when she would be told they were only doing this to qualify for future officer programs in the institute known as the Schola Progenium, Mable realized she wasn't exactly where she thought she'd be.

Having assumed she would just be a serf for the planetary defense forces, Mable was apparently put into a program to be a genuine soldier… and although she hadn't asked to be one, nor had any inclination in becoming one, Mable would think back to how afraid she had been while running for her life, and that… perhaps learning how to be combat-capable wasn't the worst thing in the world.

After three months of doing what she was told, Mable found herself suddenly friendless as her 'grades' were made public with every other cadet. Having been tested, and having managed to score 'perfectly' by the standards of their instructors through simply doing as she was told, Mable was accused of cheating by those who now used her background as an orphan of convenience to humiliate her and discredit her scores. Unsure what had changed in her friend group's dynamic to get to this point, and more oblivious to the meaning of her apparent success, Mable would try to explain that she had just done as she was told – and wondered how she could have cheated if she had.

It was easy to listen to orders. The instructors gave her a list of instructions – which she was instructed by. Going down lists of 'objectives' and completing them as best she could, Mable cleaned everything to the standards her mother would be proud of, completed all of her reading and writing assignments, and during firing drills, she just aimed down the sights and fired. It was super easy stuff – so she didn't understand why her fellow cadets were so mad at her for succeeding. Bringing this up to them directly, she would be yelled at, booed, and even struck by those who, only a few weeks ago, called her friend.

Wishing she had known people would change at success they didn't even seem to care about, Mable, perhaps in a moment of weakness, would wonder how things were going in her time… and, in the free time between classes, Mable would duck into the rarely visited gap between armory and spire entrance, and speak to the artefact at her wrist.

With an alien jolt coursing through her, Mable blinked and winced as the scent of acrid smoke filled her nostrils. Immediately regretting her request, Mable covered her mouth and nose with an arm, and stepped out of the alley.

Filled with more regrets as she watched a squad of non-planetary-guard soldiers clad in green and brown shoot las-rifles at a horde of jumping, cutting aliens, Mable would feel horrified as she watched what could only be described as a battle. Watching as soldiers fought over the rail-way entrance she had taken just a few months ago into the spire, Mable felt confusion as other platoons began to set up heavier weapons towards the entrance of the barracks and armory she had been trained within… and, catching the eyes of a masked trooper, Mable would be yelled at behind the muffling leather.

"WHERE IS YOUR MASK?!"

Blinking at the woman, Mable would be grabbed – and feeling the artefact slide further up her arm, Mable was hoisted up and into the armory doors. Sealing the door behind her, the masked soldier would continue to shout at her, grabbing what appeared to be one of the anti-chemical rebreathers Mable had only seen in passing, and then told to put it on as it was thrown to her. Coughing out as she did so, Mable inhaled deeply as the mask was put onto her face – the rubbery straps tugging at her hair as she looked up to the trooper that now handed her a las-carbine.

"Come on, white-shield! Go!" She was yelled at, and in the forty-seconds she was given reprieve in the armory, Mable would be ejected by the soldier's arm – and carried out into the battle-zone that was just increasing in intensity.

Joining the squad of 'Cadians' who had been deployed to the spire, Mable would use what little firing experience she had to join the guardsmen who did not even question what a thirteen-year-old was doing on the battlefield. Shooting at the xeno aliens she had completely forgotten about after three months of peaceful living, the sound of hundreds of las-rifles being muted by the screams of aliens that rushed towards them over the rail-line, Mable would feel great confusion as the small creatures died in droves. Hearing the whistle and then explosion of what were called 'mortars' detonating out of sight, as well as the sound of heavy-bolter crews firing from higher positions of the spire's lower balconies, Mable would go through an hour of sitting behind neck-high metal barriers, standing up when told, firing when told, and then watching as her las-bolts seemingly did nothing until the aliens collapsed as their bodies burst.

Only when six three-meter-tall giants clad in black armor descended with promethium flamethrowers, would the aliens retreat. Watching as the red-eyed lensed super-soldiers – the Emperor's Angels of Death – descended on roaring jetpacks, spewing forth liquid fire that clung and melted the xeno just as much as it did the railway, Mable would hear a mass of cheering as the guardsmen declared their victory over the alien monsters. Rubbing her eyes with her dirty sleeve, having ignored the irritants that came with the discharge of las-batteries, Mable stood up… and looked to the trooper that had dragged her into the armory and kept her in the fight. Staring at the helmed and goggled soldier, Mable would be looked at in return… and then be yelled at by a person she had only seen in her periphery during the fighting.

"What the fuck is a cadet doing here?!" The Cadian sergeant bellowed through the leather of his mask, looking as if he was going to come to blows with the soldier that had kept her alive through the fight. Holding an energy sword and las-pistol in what was clearly an excited grip, the man would shout at his subordinate through the rebreather that wrapped around his lower face. "Pee-Dee-Eff was supposed to have abandoned this post days ago! Why is this one here, corporal?!"

"Fuck if I know, sir!" The voice of the trooper that had called her a 'white-shield' saluted, slinging her rifle and then coming to attention as they explained their situation. "I found her next to the armory, looking lost!"

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, cadet?!" Mable realized the sergeant was yelling at her now, and as she immediately copied the stance of the soldier, she would carefully sling the carbine she had been given, and salute the one who was likely higher ranked than her previous instructors.

"Nothing, sir!"

"By the Throne of Terra – that has got to be the smartest thing I've ever fucking heard!" The sergeant bellowed beyond his mask, and then yelled at her a clarifying question. "Where the fuck is your unit?!"

"I don't know, sir!" Mable cried loudly, never having been given a unit – as she had just been one of several thousand children inducted into the cadet program in the time she had come from.

"Where the hell is the commissar?!" The sergeant yelled, and was yelled at in return by someone she had only seen in the firing line.

"Dead sir! Alien bug-shooter got him! Ripped right through his hat! I think they're targeting our leaders!"

"Fuck!" The sergeant yelled, and then let out a groan of annoyance as he sheathed his blade. Quieter now, the guardsman would turn to her and stare daggers towards her. "What's your name, cadet?"

"Mable, sir!" Mable still shouted, the excitement of being yelled at being more nerve-wracking than the actual fighting she had joined.

"Mable, I don't know where you've been hiding, but Lorthanx's planetary guard were moved to the reserves and upper hab-spires days ago. You're supposed to be guarding civilians, not the exterior spires from the Tyranids."

"Tyranids?" Mable muttered to herself, never having heard of the alien's names said aloud before. Looked at in confusion, Mable would be struck on the back of her head by the corporal who punished her for speaking out of turn… and casting her head in shame, she would apologize. "S-sorry, sir."

"Well… nothing for it now." The man muttered, and then looked away from her to the rest of the spectating soldiers. "Who's in charge?"

"Lieutenant Axel." Another voice called out, much to the sergeant's confusion.

"What happened to Captain Balizar?"

"Gargoyle bit his head off."

"Fuck, Scoti, I think you might be right." The sergeant said, letting out a dry laugh through his mask. "I think they are targeting our leaders."

"Sir, what about the girl?" The corporal at Mable's side asked… and as the sergeant stared at her for a long moment… he would look to the space marines pursuing the alien horde down the railway.

"I don't think the Angels of Death would be willing to take a cadet to rejoin her unit. Mable, until we leave Lorthanx, you're a white-shield. Someone find her a spare flak jacket!"

Not saying anything to her new position, nor knowing if she should go back to the more peaceful era now when she had just learned about the aliens, Mable… would just wordlessly nod her head as the corporal left her stance, and the sergeant left to go meet with someone else.

Following the corporal around Spire Lorthanx, heading into the towers and seeing beyond the fortified wall to the section of the hive where the orphanage and her family had come from, Mable… felt terror, seeing an ocean of aliens queuing up in semi-organized hordes. No longer paying attention to the woman that was taking her helmet off as they entered the sealed barracks, Mable would be properly introduced to the corporal who she was now assigned to 'shadow.' Noticing the woman was being quite casual, despite the entire ground floor of their city seemingly having been replaced with aliens, Mable would shake herself as she turned away from the many monsters below.

"Name's Corporal Erithi. Cadian Five-Nine-Nine. We've found it easier to have false strong-points outside and then react to the Tyranid's attacks rather than have static defenses, since we can't dig through rockcrete, and they just jump over sandbags. It's better for us too, since the local PDF stations were prepared for chemical attacks prior to the invasion." Erithi stated, slapping the heavy glass Mable had stared out of, unable to count the number of monsters hunting through the towers of the lower hive, and… even flying in swarms above.

"Invasion? I… thought it was just an uprising."

"Uprising?" Mable was questioned, the guardswoman staring at her for a time as she removed her rebreather. "Maybe like, four months ago, it was an uprising… but the gene-stealer cult brought a tendril of the greater devourer here. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the PDF here wouldn't know, for morale and what not… but didn't you wonder where all the aliens came from? Have you even looked outside of the hive?"

"No." Mable truthfully stated, having never gotten to the exterior layer of the hive to do so.

"Well… now's your chance, I guess." Mable was told as she was brought to a different window of the spire, and as she looked out of the glass, passing a wounded sentry standing on an impromptu crutch, Mable would glance outwards… knowing that Lorthanx was still well within the hive-city, and wasn't…

Was that really the outside of the hive? A barren wasteland, filled with… weird, greenish-reddish spines, releasing a cloud of… whatever it was she was looking at? Staring out of the large hole that had been punched out of hundreds of meters of rockcrete and what had been another spire, Mable… would turn to the corporal who seemed to know much more about what was going on than she ever had.

"I… I don't really remember anything, except when the lower hive was lost – filled with neurotoxins."

"Headwound?" Mable was asked… and as she nodded, not having a better explanation, her words would be addressed. "Well, I don't know about any neuro-toxin, but my regiment deployed after the lower hives were lost, and before the fleet had to pull back. Now we're just buying time with the Black Templars until the relief fleet comes."

"Buying… time?" Mable repeated, getting a careless nod from the woman.

"Yeah, the Tyranids are already eating the planet, but as long as there is a unified resistance, they can't just do whatever they want. Currently, we're holding the line from the lower-hive breach while the void-shields are still stopping aerial bombardment – but gargoyles and smaller flying units are threatening the upper hive by flying under it, where all these small one are coming from. Since the PDF isn't capable of holding out against a concentrated Tyranid assault, they've been moved to the upper hives to ward off against the gargoyles that are aiming for the civilian populace."

"Oh… I see." Was all Mable could muster… and then asked a personal question. "What… what about the civilians? I have family, and… I lost touch of them, when the uprising happened."

"Ah… well, I'm not sure what to tell you. There were nearly sixteen billion civilians who called this hive home before the invasion. Another ten, in Hive Secundus and Tertius." Corporal Erithi told her… and as Mable just nodded her head, liking her family's chances then, she would refocus herself as she looked away from the window.

"How can I help?"

Staring at her with appreciation, the woman would let out a scoff, and then speak bluntly as she picked up the green and beige flak jacket off the chair next to the sentry who was stepping back to the window. Having the fabric slap her chest, Mable would hold onto the colors of a different regiment, and then look up to the woman who seemed to like her response.

"Put that on, white-shield."

The attacks on Spire Lorthanx were nearly bi-hourly. First, the aliens would probe with smaller creatures known as Rippers – half-meter long snake-like creatures made of teeth and fury – that could sneak from the railway, or from a service exit that led to the currently abandoned tunnel network that led deeper into the hive. Hard to detect, these Rippers would slither forward with 'smaller' Tyranids called Hormagaunts – man-sized creatures made of biting teeth and claws – that would try to rush any unprepared defenders. Soon chased by Termagants – similar to Hormagaunts, but instead of just claws, also had a ranged weapon made of flesh that fired out creatures known as 'borer-beetles' – these creatures would push in trying to create enough space in the two most obvious attack routes so that their broods could reinforce them.

But these Tyranids, despite their great numbers, could do little in natural chokepoints except die against the defender's superior position. Unable to ascend from the tunnels in great enough number to create enough space for their 'bigger' species to arrive, these smaller Tyranids died in droves against heavy bolter, mortar, and las-shot… but when they did decide to attack, it would always come with casualties on the guard's side as well. Apparently targeting their Major first, who had been making an inspection of their defenses when originally taking command of Spire Lorthanx – the Tyranids had managed to slay the unprepared man in a salvo of living munition that tore at him and his command squad, in a suicidal attack.

Then, most recently, they had targeted not just one, but two commissars, as well as the captain that had been next in line for commanding this portion of the Cadian Five-Nine-Nine regiment. Standing their ground regardless of who was in command, the Cadians held rank and discipline as their officers were assassinated by the attacking waves – which would always immediately retreat if an Angel of Death arrived.

Always jumping in on screaming jetpack, these warriors of the Emperor would create a trail of burning death so spectacular that they immediately brought fear to the alien, and invigorated the guards who watched their death-dealing. Setting fire to swarms with flamer, these warriors would push back the alien, giving the guard space to recover and set up a new series of limited outward defenses. Occasionally meeting with the officers in command to give them an update on how far back the aliens had been shoved, and then reminded to alter their defensive positions from any bombardments that could happen via currently unseen 'venom-cannons' Mable would watch from a distance as these super-warriors soon flew off to another position that was in need of their help.

The sense of urgency and belonging Mable personally felt as she ran ammunition or joined a firing squad was great, if not equal to the terror she felt when she saw the aliens. Feeling tireless as she accompanied Corporal Erithi on behalf of her squad's sergeant, being introduced as a 'missing white-shield,' which must have meant something to the Cadians who would either let out a laugh or be insulted by the title she was given, Mable would repeat the words that Erithi had taught her to inspire the fighting men and women of the Five-Nine-Nine.

"Cadia stands."

Even the meanest scowl would fade as she repeated the words of the Cadians. Some looking truly pained as she said the phrase of greeting, some being moved to poorly concealed tears from behind their goggles and masks, the royal-eyed Cadians would nod at her and, perhaps begrudgingly, accept her as she spoke the two-word phrase… often hearing it muttered in return as she would leave onto a different task.

Wondering if it was too late to ask what 'Cadia' even was, Mable would continue to support the Five-Nine-Nine she had been adopted by. Mostly running freshly-charged las-packs to the forward positions that were deployed outside of the barracks and armory on the ground floor of the spire, or joining Erithi's squad near the railway as she fired at aliens, Mable would spend a tireless two days doing as she was told… and honestly never feel the need to sleep.

Unsure if the artefact was empowering her, or if the three months of work and rest she had in the other time had been a dream that had allowed her to stay up without feeling the need to lay down – even as the Corporal passed out near the barrack's entrance several times during their deployment – Mable never once felt fatigue. Eventually acting on her own instead of resting, Mable would continue to cycle weapons to the front, help the wounded back into the barracks, pass out food and water to those resting, and run messages up to the squads deployed on the large balconies of the spire – the upper highway being where the current head-quarters were located in Spire Lorthanx. Never having even known that there was a massive bridge that connected the garrison-spire to other parts of the city, which luckily could only be attacked by small flying units of the Tyranids at the moment, Mable introduced herself to 'Lieutenant Axel' who was currently in command of the Five-Nine-Nine platoons inhabiting the old garrison spire.

With a wrinkled forehead that reminded her of a leather boot, the goggled and masked Axel would stare at her for a time, before taking the written message and throwing a pin on her borrowed jacket. The single chevron turning her into an active private, Mable would salute the man as she had seen the Cadians do, tell him that Cadia still stood, and then leave for her next task. Unsure if she was now officially accepted, or that battlefield circumstances allowed for her to be recognized for helping these past two days, Mable pretended to rest, ran, and then fought with the Fine-Nine-Nine as a normal trooper.

Then, that joy of belonging she desperately craved changed as the Tyranids first 'Warrior Species' arrived.

"Warrior-class spotted! All guns reorient towards the tunnel-entrance!" Sergeant Lakay bellowed at them as they shot down the railway. Turning towards the rear of the pavilion, Mable being the fastest to do so, she would immediately see as the squad she had resupplied just an hour ago were torn to shreds by a giant larger than a space marine. With four arms, two of them being grafted into scythe-blades nearly as long and tall as the creature was, the 'Warrior' would turn towards their squad as its lesser kin bit into and stabbed at people she had just spoken with.

Having any thoughts or feelings beyond rage and wrath would have been a disgrace, Mable recognized as she wordlessly shot at the horde that was swarming from the tunnels. Unsure how the creature had even squeezed through those service tunnels in the first place, Mable fired mindlessly at the lesser creatures as the others in her squad turned, a mortar from a higher balcony detonating on top of the alien horde – scattering the smaller Hormagaunts – but being ignored by the warrior that began to walk, then charge towards them.

Feeling the liquid of the artefact loosen from its hiding spot on her sleeve as she stood up and fired, Mable would let out a scream of rage as the 'blade-armed-xeno-fuck' reached her squad's line, as pontificated by the sergeant challenging the beast. Shoving her carbine into the face of a Hormagaunt that had accompanied the warrior and blasting it point blank, Mable would hear the call for bayonets, but as she looked at the warrior that was charging straight towards the sergeant, who was bravely rushing to meet the creature capable of killing an entire ten-man squad on its own… Mable would feel a rage that was beyond her.

It was ancestral.

Or perhaps… prophetic.

As if she knew exactly what would occur if creatures like these were left to exist, Mable felt a preconscious thought enter her head, unified with her wrath of the moment, that if she let this warrior live, or any creature of such strength exist, all life in the galaxy would be extinguished. Breaking rank as the sergeant that had accepted her was felled – cut down through his flak armor and sent to the ground, Mable thoughtlessly ran forward to what was likely her death.

Compared to the creature, she was nothing. Not even able to reach its knee at her full height, she could be trampled and killed at the monster's leisure… and because of that, she was ignored. Because of its intellect, the first she had seen an individual Tyranid possess, and its mission in killing adult humans of higher rank first, it ignored the child with a small las-gun… allowing her closer so that one of its Hormagaunt subordinates could kill her in its mindless predation of her species. Making this crucial mistake, unknowing what it had let get so close to it, the warrior would soon find itself slapping face first against the rockcrete as its head was sheared from its carapaced body. The creature had been unable to tell what had happened as its body was severed and separated with a calculating, alien, efficiency. Unable to see the liquid blade of the artefact as it continued to slash into the Hormagaunts which could fight on after being slain, the warrior would die before it could even be confused.

As the warrior fell, a chorus of screams were created by the lesser Hormagaunts, allowing Mable to turn her las-carbine on the creatures too stupid to die, and too dumb to act without their leader's uniting will. Descending upon them as she fired, and then drawing her knife no one had expected her to use, Mable cut and stabbed in tandem with the artefact… her rage and its hatred unifying as they killed the xeno and turned away the horde.

Entering the tunnels, chasing after the retreating aliens, and culling them in the pale light of the artefact's blade, Mable felt more than tireless as the mindless beasts fled. In this moment, her vision being focused by the light of the artefact, Mable felt powerful, like one of the Angels of Death. Like… the Emperor's chosen space marines.

But as she slowly turned away, unable to keep up with the beasts as they fled into the tunnels, and returned to the forward positions, Mable would find herself alienated… with weapons pointed at her as she stared at the guard she had fought alongside. Feeling confusion as she felt her friends once again turn on her, those who she had protected dragging the avenged out of their murdered positions so that a bigger concave of guns could be created around her, Mable looked at the bayonet she was holding… and then to those who were clearly considering shooting her.

"Praise the Emperor." Mable heard muttered… and as she looked to Corporal Erithi who lowered her weapon, Mable would hear the woman cry out at their victory. "She's a Living Saint! Praise the Emperor!"

Blinking at the woman who raised her weapon into a one-handed grip and into the air, starting a chant, Mable would feel a sickening confusion as she was praised, not knowing what the men and women of the Five-Nine-Nine were doing as they cheered her and the Emperor of Mankind.

When the Black Templar had arrived, expecting to have to clear the fallen positions of the Cadians who called for assistance against the warrior creature, Mable would be hunted down next to Acting-Captain Axel, and the barely living, heavily injured Sergeant Lakay who attested to her saving his outflanked squad on what was going to be his deathbed. Sucking in air as the medicae around him worked… Mable held the man's hand that gripped her own tightly in a cold vice. Stared at by the red-lenses of the Emperor's Angels, Mable would feel great hesitation as they thoughtlessly stared down at her… the artefact at her wrist preparing to deploy as the words of the dying sergeant were aired before the holy warriors of the Adeptus Astartes.

"She's… good." Was the last compliment the sergeant gave her, as his hand's vice weakened, waned, and then slipped from her own. Holding the dead man's hand after, truly crying as he covered for her on his deathbed, Mable would look up at the Black Templar that appraised her… and, speaking through his exterior vox-caster, would bellow at her.

"You claim to be a saint, child of Hisperia?" The Angel asked… and as she looked to the acting captain who had made her an acting private just ten hours ago… she would shake her head. Her small head-motion noticed, she would be questioned further. "No? Yet you are spoken of, by those who witnessed your miraculous actions."

"I… don't know what a saint is." Mable whispered… and looked up at the masked helmet that many aliens had seen in their ends. "I'm… I'm just Mable."

"Well, 'Just Mable,' you are either a Saint, who has come to deliver this planet's end, or another heretic worshipping the aliens. Which is it?"

"Heretic?" Mable repeated, truly shocked by such an accusation. Knowing that heretics only wanted the destruction of mankind, the sisters of the temple having warned her that they would tell the arbiters she was one if she failed in her chores, Mable would protest such a title. "I'm not a heretic!"

"Prove it, then." She was told by the Space Marine… and as she hesitated, she would be given her chance. "Fight, and die with us."

"What?" Mable repeated… and then, placing the hand of Sergeant Lakay on his heart, she would stand in anger against the giant that was shorter than the warrior she had cut down. Feeling… inspired, perhaps, as she looked to the red-lensed face of the space marine, Mable would speak boldly… not yet wanting to die. "I will not die here."

"You fear the alien, then?"

"No!" Mable shouted in anger, a high-pitched hum tinging her words as she spoke. Feeling a terrible rage in her heart as she stared at the space marine, Mable… would begin to speak, and then… trail off in thought. "I hate them! They ruined everything! They…"

They hadn't ruined everything. If anything, the xeno uprising and cult had given her a new life. They had allowed her to meet the artefact, who had allowed her to visit the past of their world. Having given her a reprieve, and giving her a few months of weapons training that allowed her to blend in with the soldiers here, rather than as an evacuee, Mable… wasn't powerless, anymore. She wasn't hungry, or tired, or… afraid, as she stared at the Angel of Death. She didn't know what a saint was, but she wanted to help… especially if her family was still alive.

"My intention was always to fight." Mable stated, feeling calmer after thinking… and then, staring up at the Black Templar that leaned slightly backwards, as if to get a better view of her, Mable would make an oath that would have been unthinkable, just a few weeks ago. "But I will not die here. If I must, I will kill each alien myself."

"Then walk with me, Saint Mable of Hisperia. Let us see if you can replicate your witnessed miracles, and if you can make good of your promise." The Black Templar told her… and as he turned, Mable would glance to the dead Lakay… and then ask a question of the acting captain of this platoon.

"May I have his sword, Captain Axel?"