When the Black Templar had said walk with him, Mable hadn't thought he meant literally. Walking down the railway towards the lower hive she had escaped from three months ago and now to the sea of flesh the aliens were, Mable would tighten her grip on the blade of Sergeant Lakay. Seeing six isolated Termagants spring up from their hiding places to challenge them, Mable felt a dull anger as she stared at the creatures.
"Kill them." The space marine had ordered, and as his five brothers stayed stationary, Mable would realize that this order was directed at her. Looking for a ranged weapon, the voice of the space marine would question her. "Are you looking for a weapon while a blade is in hand?"
"They… have bug shooters." Mable pointed out, and was immediately countered.
"The Emperor Protects."
Realizing that she was being tested, or was expecting to get gunned down by the monsters, Mable would stare at the space marine as the Termagants continued to yelp, hiss, and screech at them over thirty meters away… and as she inhaled through her rebreather, she would nod her head. Moving from the defunct railway onto the clearer walkway where the first Termagant was trying to stand over the waiting Space Marines upon, Mable tested the power-button of the energy blade, seeing it crackle to life briefly, before she would begin to run forward towards the Termagants beginning to group together.
Predictably shooting at her, Mable would dodge the first shot of living beetles that would soon die on their own. Getting within twenty meters of the creatures as she continued to sprint, Mable watched as the silvered liquid deployed and created a bulwark in front of her. Running and seeing in her periphery the beetles fall to her sides as she ran, Mable didn't get the opportunity to study the process of what the artefact was doing to the projectiles to cease their function, but was glad it had known to protect her in this moment.
Getting close to the man-sized Tyranids, their claws would raise and teeth would gnash as the shield fractured into tendrils of sharpened blades. Cutting out with the power-sword, the energy crackling and making easy work against their chitinous hides, Mable would slay the six creatures within just a few moments of effort. Not even winded as she cut down two while the artefact slew the other four, Mable would slowly turn towards the space marines that were still staring at her… the artefact quickly forming into a shield around most of her body, and shifting on its own as the space marines continued to silently look at her.
"That's enough." The original space marine spoke… and then, taking off his helmet with his gauntleted hand, not seeming to care about the poisonous fumes the Tyranids were releasing into the hive, Mable would be approached by the… unexpectedly human face of the short, black-haired, blue-eyed man. Having three metal studs implanted just over his right eye, the giant would continue to approach… and as he did so, the silver liquid barrier would retreat back to her sleeve. Inspecting her for a time, and then glancing down the railway which the xeno monsters had tried to protect, Mable jumped as she was spoken down to by the unaltered voice of the Angel of Death. "I am Sword Brother Ulvos, who serves under Castellan Malcevisor, in the Malcevisor Crusade. I am to use all the tools the Emperor has given me to protect this hive city, until a relief fleet can be created to destroy this tendril of Hive Fleet Leviathan. You, whether Living Saint or not, shall assist me."
"Okay." Mable stated, not having a reason to deny the Angel of Death.
"Your wristband. It is from the Inquisition, and heralds the name Priam. Is that your family name?" Mable asked… and as she looked down at her wrist, she would look up to the man that continued to question her. "Or the inquisitor that has discovered you?"
"Priam… was a researcher. I took this off him, to escape their facility."
"Facility?" She was questioned… and as a click was emitted from the helmet he held, Ulvos would turn towards a brother that held a black cross upon his white shoulder.
"If she is marked by the Inquisition, should we not speak with their representative? Will they not be angered that we have stolen a… thing, of theirs?"
"We do not see to politics when the enemy is at the gates, Brother Sindarion." The Sword Brother stated, looking back to her. "Mable, are you an inquisitorial agent?"
"N-no." Mable truthfully stated… never once having met them. Thinking briefly for a moment, she would speak up. "Priam… told me to find an Inquisitor Redmane, if I had the chance, though."
"Inquisitor Redmane? Of what order?" The man asked… and as she shrugged, she would repeat the only one she knew.
"Ordo Chronos, maybe? That was the only one I heard of."
"I see. I shall look into that, if a moment of peace can be found. Come, Mable. For now, you are a saint… and so long as you stand, you fight for the Emperor." Ulvos stated… and then hurried her as the Tyranids behind them began to mass for another assault. "Let us give the Cadians a breather, brothers. Come, Mable. Show me again how you slay the enemies of mankind."
Putting on his helmet, fixing his flamer to his hip while drawing a power-sword twice as long as she was tall, Ulvos would step forward… and although he had given her such instructions, Mable wouldn't get the chance to kill anything as the Angels of Death showed that they had earned their titles long before they had met her.
After returning to Spire Lorthanx's rail station, Mable had been returned to Corporal Erithi, and then left with Brother Sindarion who would stay and watch her now that Tyranid Warriors had begun to assail them in greater number. Expected to challenge the beasts that normally required concentrated anti-armor fire to bring down, the space marine was a much-needed edition to the infantry platoon that inhabited the spire that was still waiting for armored support – if any at all could be spared from where they already were elsewhere in the hive.
Feeling awkward as Erithi proudly stated that she had volunteered to stay with her as she already had done, having not been the first 'Living Saint' the corporal had seen, Mable would be asked to bring the last rites to the few dying guardsmen who would be given the 'Emperor's Mercy.' Agreeing to do it without question under the spectating gaze of Sindarion, not knowing what such a thing even was, Mable would soon regret her decision.
Told to say prayers she hadn't heard before, which she did unflinchingly, Mable would be startled as a gun was given to her. Blinking at the corporal who seemed more than happy to have her execute the wounded men who were crying in pain, having their guts be torn open by the ripping beetles fired from Termagant weapons, Mable would horrifyingly be begged by the dying to have her kill them – as she was apparently touched by the Emperor. Feeling true fear in that moment as her hands began to nervously twitch, holding onto the terrified man as she felt judged by the dying, the corporal, and the spectating space marine that was watching her every move, Mable… would slowly, and tearfully try to aim where it would be the most lethal… but as she shakily prayed, Mable would find a different thing answering her prayers.
For when she said 'Emperor help me,' the artefact would answer, snaking down her arm, forming into a blade the size of a needle, and then injecting itself into the neck, jaw, and then brain of the man she had first visited. Surprised at the sudden peace that came to the dying's face, Mable slowly put down the las-pistol… and was quietly cheered by corporal who thanked her for using her miracle to send the man off to the Emperor's side.
She wanted to vomit, as she gave the Emperor's Mercy to twelve more soldiers. Mauled by gargoyles, faces partially melted by acid, or having their lower intestines ripped open by the claws of Hormagaunts, Mable visited each and every one of the few that could not be saved… and had the artefact bring them peace. Truly feeling sick as she was given water to wash her bloodless hands and dirty face, Mable cried in solitude as she was afforded some privacy as a fighting female of humanity from the male space marine who waited outside of her room… listening to her guilty lamentation for the dead she hadn't wanted to create.
With the thought that she could just leave now, and never return to this time… Mable would stare at the doorway where she was being listened to… and then, pretending to pray, she would speak with the artefact for the first time in what felt like months.
"Mister… Orb-peror. Are you listening?"
High, long-drawn-out, hum. A questioning affirmation.
"Can… we return, to a more peaceful time?"
A high, long-drawn-out, whir. A confirmation that was… just as questioning as the hum. Blinking for a moment, surprised they were not already leaving, Mable… would question the entity that was slithering to her wrist, becoming visible to her eye.
"Why… don't we?"
Low-hum. High-hum. Low, long-drawn-out, whir. Consideration… then rejection.
Did… it not want to leave?
"Why not?"
Whomp.
Blinking at the noise that sounded like a bloated fart, Mable would blink… and then stare at the liquid metal… that had given her some of its rage during the battle against the warrior. Blinking at the reflectionless silver that clung onto her wrist, Mable… clarified the artefact's goal.
"You want me to be here?"
High-hum, then high-whir. What? What did that mean?
"For… any reason in particular?"
Low-hum. It wasn't sure.
"Do… you not know?"
Silence.
Thinking that it would remain silent, the artefact would surprise her greatly as it physically shifted, and coiled upwards into the air in front of her face. Blinking as it shifted, shone, and turned into a series of blades, Mable would… sense that the artefact had found a purpose for its existence… and didn't want her to return to the peaceful age she had lived within for three months.
"You want to kill them?"
The blades hovered… a high-pitched whir in her head being felt, more so than created.
"Okay… you wouldn't happen to be able to do more than turn into a really sharp knife, then?"
Low-high-low-high-hum?
Was it mocking her, as if she was pestering it?
"N-no, I just meant… I don't know, they think I'm a living saint. Can you do any stuff like they can?"
Long – incredibly long – drawn out high hum.
Was it… looking for suggestions?
Blinking for a moment, and then standing up, Mable would slap at the blade that had lingered weightlessly in the air, which quickly retracted back onto her wrist as she went to the door. Seeming to sense her approach, or perhaps just listening to her through the door, Brother Sindarion would stare at her through his red lenses… and then, speak down at her.
"What?"
"I need to speak with Corporal Erithi. Will you accompany me, Mister Angel of Death?"
Being stationary for a moment, and then stepping further into the hall he had been guarding, Mable would be allowed to search for the woman who had apparently seen a living saint before.
Being told that Saint Celestine had been present at the Fall of Cadia – which still apparently stood somehow – Mable was painted a mental image of this mythical entity. Telling her that Celestine had flown on golden wings with a blazing halo, used a flaming sword, grew to be bigger than the size of a space-marine, and then smote daemons with the power of the Emperor, this… all seemed exceptionally grand, and outright unbelievable. Erithi, having spectated the entire thing before evacuating when a Black Stone Fortress began to fall on the planet, long before her original regiment – the Ninety-Ninth Cadian Mobile Infantry Regiment merged with the Fifty-Ninth Mechanized Infantry Regiment – told her that what she spoke to was the truth. Mable, completely unsure what to do with the very brief history lesson the corporal gave her, would pause in consideration.
Truly feeling lost, Mable would be surprised by Sindarion, who spoke of a different living saint that had apparently existed during the Sabbat Worlds crusades. Telling of a black-haired woman who reincarnated herself in a local girl, Saint Sabbot was apparently a tactician and inspiring force on the battlefield nearly five-hundred years ago. Erithi, apparently wanting to confirm this story, told that Saint Celestine was similar – and wondered aloud if they could have been the same, and they just got the hair-color and name wrong.
Sindarion had said nothing to such a question, but confirmed that her powers had been described similarly as what the guardswoman told. Erithi feeling vindicated, would look to her expectedly… and, in that moment, Mable would question the woman.
"Why did you think I was a saint, then? I don't have wings, I don't lead, and I'm not smiting daemons with my mind!" Mable all but shouted in annoyance, the space marine witnessing this conversation shifting awkwardly as she all but denied her title that allowed her to not be called a heretic – and kept her from being publicly executed. "Why would you tell everyone that?!"
"You might not have had wings, a halo, or a flaming sword, but… what else could it have been? You were shining with a… strange, light, which reminded me of a white-dwarf star. When you charged the Tyranid Warrior, you were as angry as Saint Celestine had been when she charged the forces of the Despoiler. Sure, your blade isn't radiating the golden flames of the Emperor's light, but it flashed forward at a blinding speed – and cut so quickly that not even those mindless beasts could react to it! It was inspiring to say the least, and I wasn't the only one who followed you to the service tunnels, Mable. The fact that you leapt after the Hormagaunts, and that you showed up… miraculously, in our most dire moments? I even heard a choir of angels when you screamed at them, so… if you created so many miraculous moments, you had to have been saint."
The woman's logic was incredibly stupid, but Mable couldn't deny the woman's conjured assessment. Not having an explanation of where she had come from, for she truly didn't know the mechanism that allowed the artefact to move through time, Mable scratched her face in consideration and thought, and then stood up as a warning klaxon reverberated through the barracks floors of the spire.
"Where are you going?" Erithi asked, having been awoken from her resting period while others held the railway outside.
"I don't want anyone else to die." Mable stated flatly… but in truth, she just wanted fewer wounded to have to kill now that she was considered a saint, and somehow connected to the Emperor. Looking to the space marine who checked his bolter and began to head towards the exit with or without her, Mable would look to the corporal who would begin to get up from her bed, until she spoke her down. "Rest, Erithi. I'll see you later."
Smiling at her, and then faithfully returning to the cot she had claimed, Erithi did as ordered… and as Mable silently left the darkened room she had found the woman in, the space marine's surprisingly quiet steps would hound her, until his voice was emitted from his helmet.
"If it becomes apparent that you are not a saint, I will be sure to execute you quickly."
"Thanks." Mable muttered breathlessly… and then let out a sigh as she saw the queue of soldiers preparing to sally out of the barracks and fire upon the enemy of mankind split so that they could pass.
News broke that a Living Saint had manifested fast within the hive city, it seemed. Her new title seemingly propagated to motivate the defenders of the city, Mable would be visited by several members of armored ecclesiarch forces – which helped the Cadian defenders greatly as the Adeptus Sororitas escorted priests and their servants into Spire Lorthanx. Using promethium flamers to clear the tunnels, and melta-weapons to shred Tyranid Warriors, the entire alien tactics would shift from waves of close-combat creatures to long-ranged bombardment cannons when the 'Sisters of Battle' deployed in the garrison spire.
Damaging the towering structure with flying creatures on the many balconies of the spire, as well as creating breaches in the spire itself in the following assaults, the Tyranids were strangely the least bothersome creatures in the spire for her at the moment. Mable, greatly annoyed as members of the Ecclesiarchy came to investigate her apparently 'Emperor-given powers,' would now be forced to descend and ascend rapidly as the warning klaxon no longer necessitated an assault from the ground floor of the spire.
At first unimpressed by her appearance, asking her where her wings and halo were, the priests would mock her as their white-haired, black-power-armored escorts muzzle-flashed her with anti-tank weapons and flamethrowers. Chased by women who wanted to see her fight, who were forced to make way by the 'Astartes' that was tasked with always keeping her in his view, Mable and Brother Sindarion would often kill the Tyranid breachers long before they could be witnessed in combat – and with the gargoyles able to jump out and fly from the breaches they had made, chasing to prove herself wasn't really an option.
All in all, she was greatly annoyed – but as the space marine attested to the seeming tirelessness that she was nearly certain was because of the artefact, Mable was spared immediate execution by the Sisters of Battle. Stating that if they doubted his words, then he would be honor-bound to defend his statements, Brother Sindarion would provide her much needed cover from political murder as she continued to run up and down staircases to get to the next breach.
Seventy-hours later, truly feeling tired as she rested on a staircase's wall, Mable would awaken as a high-pitched scream of a whir awoke her.
Blinking awake, turning to the wall as the warning reverberated in her head, Mable would grip her temple as the battle-brother Sindarion turned to face her – perhaps in confusion at her suddenly painful reaction. Wincing at the mental scream, Mable would feel a shudder within the entire spire as the power flickered out… and as she blinked, the pale light would emit from around her.
"Something is happening." Mable stated the obvious as she stood, pulling herself up with help from the handrail. Leaving the hallway as a secondary shake occurred, Mable began to hear people from all over the spire start to shout what the klaxon could no longer alert them of.
"Trygon! Ground floor! They've sapped the entire rail-line, and created a ramp to the spire's entrance!" The soldier coming to warn them shouted, and then looked deeper into the spire as Mable and her six escorts went to alert, shouting into the building at a message he was relaying "What?!"
"By the Throne." A sister of battle muttered as she began to descend the staircase, intent to see for herself what new abomination they were dealing with was.
"Raveners are in the spire!" The man finished, and then bolted from the door to rejoin his squad.
"What's a Ravener?" Mable asked the space marine, who did not help explain the situation as he freed his chainsword and bolt-pistol.
"A smaller Trygon."
"What's a Trygon?" Mable asked, and perhaps prophetically, felt another shockwave run through the building.
"That." The space marine humorlessly stated… and, following her without question as they continued to descend, Mable glanced to the Battle Sisters who were clearly wanting to ascend, rather than join her.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to." Mable told those that had the option to flee… or perhaps didn't, as their leader, a canoness, spoke.
"A daughter of the Emperor going without escort would blemish our entire order, sister. Go, and we shall follow into hell itself."
Blinking at the thought of doing that, Mable glanced to the space marine that she preferred – if only because he had a jetpack that could pursue the enemy outside.
"Alright, well… hopefully it won't come to that."
"This way." The space marine ordered as they reached a side door far above the first floor, and seeming to know what to do, Mable chased after Sindarion who, in the darkness the artefact illuminated, shot blindly down a corridor – creating a scream from a terrible alien throat as his bolt pistol continued to fire.
Moving forward with her sword out as they looked for a balcony, Mable was greatly surprised as the floor below them began to shake, shudder, and partially break – the long, snake-like bodies of the Raveners appearing with each reverberation. With six-arms, each bladed like the Tyranid Warriors, and with a pyramid shaped head that was armored by chitin – the six-eyed beasts quickly descended upon the humans trapped in the hallways they ambushed them on, digging through the weaker parts of the rockcrete spire with their larger blades and carapaced heads. Shot and felled like any Tyranid Warrior, these creatures would be cut down by chainsword, silver-blades, and disintegrated by the super-heated melta weaponry that Mable still wasn't yet understanding the mechanical operation of. Incredibly mobile, these Raveners would die and curl into the floor, allowing more room for the next wave to attack their killers, but much like the Warriors-strain, were fewer in number to deal with.
Hoping that the Trygon that these creatures were apparently lesser-size variants of wasn't that big, Mable was shown the error of her hopes as the gargantuan beast became visible to her – not from the balcony she had been rushing towards, but because it tore open the spire wall they had been fighting behind. Using a claw that was generating a visible electrical current through its pink carapace, the Trygon struck through the fortified stone with a talon that was as big as a rail-way-car. Knocked to the floor in the reveal of just a limb of its body, Mable swallowed hard as she stood up, now separated from the canoness and all but one of the battle-sisters who had been crushed to death, the devoted warriors she had just spoken to becoming pieces of power-armor on the floors and walls of the spire hallway she now rushed away from.
Entering the side of the hole to view down at the beast that was clawing its way up the spire, Mable felt a bitter rage for the monstrosity as the space marine grabbed her arm, and then stepped outside of the hole the Trygon had made in its ascent. Hating the creature for killing those who had stated their intent to protect her without notice, as it was clearly fixated on the bridge that connected the spire to the rest of the city, Mable focused on maintaining her sight as she was lifted into the powered arms of the Angel of Death. Deafened by the air and the engine of the space marine's jetpack, Sindarion fearlessly flying and swinging his chainsword into the Trygon's accompanying gargoyles, Mable saw in her periphery the artefact act in a protective capacity of not just her, but the battle-brother who was carrying her.
Soon catching up with the gargantuan snake that was stabbing its claws into the spire that it dug its way up, Mable would soon realize that there was too much of the beast to cut while they were behind it, and quickly shouted at Sindarion.
"GET TO ITS HEAD!"
Slamming against the spire wall, Sindarion would wait, slide down, fall, and then kick off as the engine of the jetpack roared with greater rancor. Gritting her teeth as she slammed into the armored torso of the space marine, Mable's request would be granted as they shot past the Trygon, and began to descend towards its train-sized head. Looking upon the armored carapace covered in rubble-breaking spikes that were discharging a bioelectrical current, Mable realized the moment they made contact, she'd be electrocuted and crushed. Trying to think of how to slay the creature that was just too big, the total length of the monster being several dozen meters long, Mable would feel the artefact's hum… and, coming up with an idea, she bravely spoke to the artefact before the space marine.
"You said we can't jump if something is in the way… but does that including living stuff?"
"What?" Sindarion asked her as they continued to keep distance from the creature, unsure what she meant as she had a conversation without him.
High-whir. Yes. So, if there was any object in the way, she wouldn't be able to jump back in time.
"Sindarion, keep ascending! When I drop, get ready to catch me if I miss!" Mable shouted at the marine who carried her, and then reoriented herself against the angel's chest before she redirected her question to the artefact. "What if we're inside of it?"
High-hum. It was possible to jump back if there was space.
"Okay, well, you better have a way of detecting that!" Mable shouted, slapping the space marine's arm, and ordering Sindarion. "Let me go!"
"That's suicide!"
"The Emperor protects, dumb-fuck!" Mable shouted in rage, punching the marine's vox-caster and being released. Looking downwards, Mable pressed her arms and legs close together as she fell, the gut sinking feeling she felt hopefully being transferrable onto the monster she intended to kill. Waiting to shout her order to the artefact that was either going to let her die and kill the creature itself, or do as she asked, Mable waited until just before she hit the creature's head before screaming out: "NOW!"
Not feeling anything at first, Mable closed her eyes, and then… for a flash, she would feel electricity course through her spine.
Opening her eyes as the jolt faded, Mable looked at the hive walls that had once stood, shielding Spire Lorthanx from the outside world. Staring at the moving rail-car that ran to the lower hive, a city of billions of people, Mable fell downwards towards the assembled planetary defense forces she had briefly met… and then, closing her eyes again, she would feel herself transition once more.
Her movement was ended as she felt something around her wrap, constrict, and crush her. Feeling the muscles of the Trygon, Mable thumbed the activation button on Sergeant Lakay's energy sword, and silently cut into the creature she was in the throat, or intestines of. Unable to do much else as the light of the artefact illuminated her current position, Mable felt more than saw the flesh of the creature begin to be torn apart – the joyful whir of the humming entity at her wrist creating a drill of blades that tore inside the creature. Feeling the exterior motion of the creature pause, and then begin to twist and constrict as a terrible wail reverberated outside of herself, Mable tried to focus on breathing through the rebreather as she kicked, pushed, and shoved herself upwards, cutting in tandem with the active, thoughtful blades that had a meat-canvas it painted its wrath upon.
Feeling other jolts as the electrical currents of the beast ran through its flesh, the Trygon perhaps electrocuting itself to kill the bodily infiltrators that were tearing it apart from the inside, Mable continued to push herself upwards as the artefact created a meat-chute for her to work up. Finding some kind of organ that burst out a piping hot liquid that scalded her, Mable heard what she hoped was the death-scream of the Trygon – as they soon began to fall.
Hoping that they would survive the fall, Mable winced as the body outside absorbed most of the impact of hitting the ground… and then, realizing she was going to be crushed by the body they had bored out, Mable realized that it would be better to transition now, and appear nearby rather than carve herself free and deal with whatever Tyranids would hear them coming.
Jolting her into consciousness prior to slapping her head on the rockcrete, Mable blinked through the alien blood that had been carried with her into the past. Groaning as she stood, putting the sword of Lakay onto her knee as she landed, Mable blinked through the gore as humans in brown uniforms stared at her. Having perhaps interrupted some kind of formation exercise, Mable looked to her fellow cadets that were practicing their marching… and, realizing that her appearance had stunned these humans into baffled stillness, Mable had the chance to wipe her sweaty, alien-blood-covered face free of reddish-brown liquid, and then stand up to the nearest instructor she saw who possessed a firearm.
"Cadet… Mable?" She was asked, and as she nodded to the instructor who recognized her, the man not realizing that she wasn't coming to him for help, but requiring a firearm for the hordes of Hormagaunts that were likely rushing into the spire that stood above them in the clean air, Mable would be yelled at. "Where have you been?! You've been listed as a-wall."
"That's stupid. Haven't you heard?" Mable asked, wiping the Tyranid blood on the man's waist as she managed to get his gun, and stand up. Looking at the man's fearful eyes as he stared into her own, Mable would nod her head. "I'm not a wall. I'm a saint."
Highest whir she had ever heard.
There was something in the way.
"For fuck's sake!" Mable shouted, and then jumped up, lifting her legs as far into the air as she could as her spine jolted with electricity.
When she opened her eyes, she had crashed landed onto a Hormagaunt's neck. Having investigated the Trygon's body, the last thing the clawed monster expected was a human to land on its shoulders, who shot it in the head several times as she swung out with her blade against the horde around her. Expanding itself, the artefact's liquid metal cut, sliced, and shielded her from the seemingly thousand-strong army of Tyranids, and as the roaring engine of a jetpack came to join her, Mable would see las-weaponry turn on the horde from every balcony now that the Trygon had fallen.
Fighting without thought as she was cut, and stabbed by weapons that couldn't be protected from by the overwhelming number of foes, Mable screamed out in pain as she swung and shot – until the crashing space marine grabbed her, roared with his chainsword, and then lifted her off the ground. Staring into the red lenses as the artefact's blades shifted into a large bowled shield to protect them from the flesh-eating beetles flying past them, Mable listened as the turbines of the jetpack roared again. The Astarte, carrying them into a hole the Trygon had made, crashed into the broken rockcrete ground. Upon landing, crying out in pain as she was lowered to the broken floor, Mable let out a terrified laugh that was filled with joy that she had survived.
Then looking down at her painful legs, arms, and stomach then, and seeing her blood seep into her clothes from where broken Hormagaunt blades still clung into her body… Mable's blurry vision focused to the Angel that had been tasked to spectate and judge her.
"Did I do good, Sindarion?"
"Yes."
"T-thanks." Mable whispered, holding onto the cool plating of the armored leg of the space marine… which felt nice, after nearly a week of nonstop combat.
Mable regained consciousness… not having expected to. Blinking several times as she stared at an unknown medicae of the Cadian Five-Nine-Nine, Mable slowly looked down to her torn body that was being worked on… most of her clothing having been removed as a black-armored surgeon of the Ecclesiarchy's bodyguards assisted in mending her body.
"Diagnost prognosis?" The surgeon asked the medicae.
"Severe lacerations. Too many. She's bleeding out. Sutures!"
"I'm…" Mable whispered, not being heard as the adults spoke over her.
"Injecting stimulants. Brain death is currently unlikely. We need blood donators, space marine."
"What is her type?" A new voice quietly asked… being much softer than she expected, were it from Brother Sindarion.
"Diagnost?" The surgeon asked, the medicae speaking quickly.
"Sanguinis Secundo Minor."
"In low gothic, please." The soft voice of Sindarion asked.
"B-Negative."
"I will be back. If she dies, I must witness it." The voice of the Angel of Death whispered, and as Mable felt annoyed at such a statement, she would slowly shift her gaze to the one who was stitching her up.
"I need a scalpel! There's a fucking fang or something here!" The medicae declared… and as she looked to her wrist as the man continued to shout to unseen fumbling assistants, Mable would silently ask it to help. "How do we not have a scalpel?! Surgeon, do…"
"By the Throne. Mable, are you awake?" The black-armored woman asked as a thin tendril of silver liquid began to form above her hand… and as it formed a thin blade that any surgeon would love, Mable decided it was best to say nothing as she breathed in the fresh air coming from an oxygen tank. Having her head held as she watched the medicae take the scalpel that began to stretch and be used on her, Mable felt herself smiling as she heard an anxious, or perhaps just pervasive hum that she couldn't tell was from the spire's ventilation system, or from the knife in her flesh.
"Don't worry… I'm not afraid." She whispered, remembering when she had met the orb below, and how it had been silent when she asked if it had wanted her to die. Perhaps misremembering, she would continue to speak to the thing that she had found in the dim light of her hive city, unafraid of whatever came next. "Even if I die, you'll find someone… to help you. I won't be scared, so… cut away, my friend."
She probably wasn't even airing her words, but she felt them. In her heart, in her lungs, and in her mind… and as she decided the hum she was hearing was from the alien device, she would tear up… doubting the artefact had the power to save her now. Knowing that it didn't matter where the object was from, even if it was a xeno-god as Priam had told her it was, Mable silently waited… glad to have met the artefact that had given her an extra… what? Nearly four months of life?
It had been fun. It had been exciting. Perhaps a little sad after her declaration of not dying to Ulvos, but Mable could proudly say that she hadn't died like her mother, pushed down a set of stairs. No one would be abandoned because of her. Everyone, surrounding her, were united now… thanks to her. She had kept her family safe… and although it pained her, Mable was proud of what she had done.
She had fought beside the Emperor's Angels of Death. She had walked with Sindarion, and had given hope to those she gave the Emperor's Mercy to. This death of hers wasn't the worst thing… even if she'd leave behind a few friends.
Her perhaps best friend acting as a scalpel in her chest, Mable humorously thought as the darkness took her.