The next day, Leman accompanied Admu to the market district as he had promised. With an abundance of thrones, there wasn't much they couldn't afford. They perused boutiques and bazaars displaying all manner of goods from all across both sides of the Imperium, from holy water sourced from springs on Ophelia VII, to precious metals from Medusa, tanned leather from Chogoris, gemstones from Nocturne, and exotic, medicinal herbs from Catachan. Admu was drawn to the number of diverse styles of clothing and jewelry, although due to her large size she was unfortunately unable to try most of them on. As such, she settled for simply buying rolls of various exotic fabrics and textiles so she could tailor clothing that she herself could wear. Leman found himself surprised by just how many different types of alcohol were on sale. He saw bottles of Macraggian red wine from Illyrian vineyards, Vostroyan vodka, a deep gold-colored spirit from Tallarn, Jadeberry mead from Rynn's World, and an extremely expensive liquor from the world of Lax - priced so as the famed breadbasket of Ultramar had been recently virus-bombed by the forces of the Death Guard. There was even a sizable keg of Fenrisian ale on sale, though it had a bright red warning label warding off all but those with the strongest constitutions - an observation that made Leman chuckle. Leman purchased a few of the cheaper ales and liquors, ordering them to be delivered to his Stormbird along with Admu's tailoring materials. He also made sure to stock up on whatever miscellaneous supplies he might need for the journey that they didn't already have. From this point on they would be deep in Imperium Nihilus, and if the stories he had been told were true, they would need to be as prepared as possible. While perusing the wares of the Market District, Leman also made sure to pepper in questions about the state of the galaxy, hoping to gather as much information as he could. Unfortunately, most people seemed about as clueless as he was about the Imperium's history before about a century or two ago, and even then, could only provide bits and pieces from whichever sector they originated. As frustrating as it was, it merely reinforced his need to reach Baal and hopefully find answers and refuge among the sons of Sanguinius. From there, he would try and arrange a meeting with his brother, Guilliman… and hopefully, they could continue their father's plan together.
"Enoch, look!" Admu said, tugging at his sleeve.
She was pointing at a small confectionery, serving frozen desserts that were advertised to have originated on Rogal Dorn's homeworld of Inwit. Leman couldn't possibly imagine why the denizens of a world almost entirely covered in ice would ever want to eat a frozen dessert, but he decided that the discrepancy wasn't worth pursuing. Admu pulled him inside, and they chose from a wide array of different menu items. Leman decided on a plain, chocolate-flavored ice bar. He never had that much of a sweet tooth, as the most saccharine thing he usually consumed was mead. However, some of the ration packs he used to eat while campaigning sometimes included a ration of chocolate stimulants, which he grew rather fond of. Admu on the other hand ordered a large cone with 3 different flavors, covered in sugary sprinkles.
"So let me get this straight…" Leman said, walking down the road alongside Fen and Admu. "You two were trying to take a detour to the Market District… through the underhive?"
Admu nodded vigorously, too busy lapping at her ice cream to speak.
"And along the way you happened to wander into an abandoned scrap yard, lose your footing, and fall even deeper into the underhive…" Leman said. "After which you wandered around in the sewers for a few hours until Fen found you."
"Don't forget the Genestealers!" Admu said.
"Right, the 'cave lobsters' as Fen put it." Leman said.
"...'Cave lobsters'?" Admu said.
That's what they tasted like. Fen said.
Admu looked at him quizzically, tilting her head and rubbing her chin in thought.
"I thought they tasted more like pork." Admu said, eliciting a disquieted look from Leman.
"Well, as long as you weren't identified then it doesn't really matter." Leman said.
"Ack!" Admu shouted, grabbing the side of her head in pain.
"What's the matter?" Leman said.
"My… head…" Admu muttered. "It's like… my skull is… filled with ice… I think… the Genestealers… are back!"
"I think… you simply ate too quickly." Leman said, nodding his head towards her mountainous dessert.
Admu rubbed her head, and after a few seconds the pain had dissipated.
"Oh, I guess you were right." Admu said, pausing for a moment before beginning to devour the frozen dessert again.
They continued walking through the busy marketplace until they finished their treats, simply observing their surroundings and perusing the multitude of storefronts rather than searching for anything in particular. One store window caught Admu's eye, or rather specifically the item that was sitting on its windowsill. She read the label affixed to it, and her eyes lit up with recognition. Without a word, she rushed inside to purchase it with a determined expression.
Later that day, a tired, disheveled woman trudged through the streets of the underhive. She passed underneath the buzzing, artificial lights, her feet scuffing against the damp, grungy pavement, as her soot and oil covered clothes hung from her slumped shoulders like the felt wings of a dead moth. Her face was sullen, and her eyes were dark from days of sleepless nights, her hair still tied in a tight bun to prevent it from interfering with her work. She walked the familiar roads and paths she had taken so many times, navigating the labyrinthine shanties and shacks of the lower hivesprawl to get back home. She passed through the artificial garden she had fashioned for her anniversary, back during happier times. Her hand gripped the doorknob, and after a moment of hesitation and a deep breath, she pushed it open.
"Joshua, Cassandra, I'm home!" the woman shouted. "I'm very sorry I was late, the foreman made me stay overnight at the manufactorum again to pay for-"
She turned around, frozen solid by what she saw standing before her.
"You look tired, Mirabelle. Come have a rest." David said.
She didn't believe her eyes, thinking that too many sleepless nights and overnight shifts had made her begin to see things. Her mind told her that what was in front of her wasn't possible. Yet, no matter how many times she blinked, her husband was still standing there, his face full of life and vigor. Tears welled up in her eyes as her lip began to quiver uncontrollably. Her breathing quickened and words escaped her.
"D-david?" she said, her voice creaking with emotion.
"Mother!" Two voices shouted, as Joshua and Cassandra rushed into the room to embrace their mother.
"Did you see? Father's been healed" Joshua said.
"It's a miracle!" Cassandra said.
Mirabelle simply stood in place, tears streaming down her face as she looked upon her husband's face with an entranced expression. He approached her, his eyes full and radiating a serene calm. She slowly raised her hand and touched his face, only days ago pallid and clammy with a deathly sickness.
"Is… is it really… are you…?" Mirabelle stammered, her words struggling to escape her lips.
"Everything's going to be alright, Mirabelle." David said, running his warm, strong hand through her soot-choked hair and gently caressing her cheek.
Mirabelle struggled to smile as her emotions overwhelmed her, burying her face into her husband's chest as she wept and sobbed uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around him, and his arms wrapped around her. The family stood there for a long, tender moment, simply basking in each other's company. After managing to compose herself, Mirabelle mustered the ability to speak again.
"How… how is this possible? You were so ill… I feared that… that I would lose you." Mirabelle said.
"You know, it's a funny story-" David said, before his sentence was interrupted by a knocking at the door.
"I'll get it!" Cassandra shouted, rushing to the entrance.
She opened the door, her eyebrows furrowing as she didn't see anyone there. She craned her neck to the left and right, looking down each end of the street, and still there was not a single person in sight. With a puzzled expression on her face, she looked down, and immediately her eyes lit up like saucers. She made an audible gasp, reaching down to pick up what was left on the porch.
"What was it?" Mirabelle said, still clearing tears from her eyes.
Cassandra spun around with a joyous expression, holding a golden package in her hands.
"Honey-cakes!" Cassandra shouted.
David simply closed his eyes, a knowing smile painted across his face.
The next few days passed relatively uneventfully, with both Leman and Admu managing to stay out of trouble. Leman would have preferred if Admu had simply stayed inside their admittedly spacious and well-kempt lodgings in the upper slice of Hyperia, however the girl often found excuses to get out once or twice a day, usually to get some air or see the sights of the expansive hivesprawl. Of course, she would inevitably end up sneaking back into another part of the underhive, seeking out public clinics and apothecaries to surreptitiously heal the sick and wounded. She was careful to never visit the same place twice so as to not attract a crowd, content to see the fruits of her effort from afar in the form of elated shouting and tears of joy. Eventually the rumors of a saint that would heal the poor and downtrodden of Hyperia spread, its seeds planted on that first day she had performed her miraculous labors within that family home.
Leman, for his part, spent the rest of his days on Vigilus doing everything he could to prepare for the journey ahead. He stocked up on as many supplies as they could carry with them, charting out their planned stops and changeovers to pack accordingly. Leman found that trying to plan such an indirect route to Baal was rather infuriating, as so much was left to chance and unknown variables. By his estimations, the trip could take them anywhere from a few months to over 3 years, if not more. It was simply impossible to account for the sluggish and unreliable rates of travel and communication in Imperium Nihilus. Most of the faster and more direct routes were directly controlled and exclusive to high-priority Imperial traffic: mostly Astartes and the Inquisition, both of which he sought to avoid as much as possible. The Inquisition worried him the most, as everything he had heard about them spelled trouble. He had even heard rumors that a single Inquisitor had nearly driven an entire chapter of Space Marines to extinction simply because they accused him of dishonorable conduct.
Once I have my legion back, I'll take care of those vermin. Leman thought.
For now, though, he would have to be patient. Speaking of patience, Fen was content to wait within Leman's gauntlet while he took care of the boring matters. He would emerge once again when there was more action, and more things to kill.
The sun began to set upon the final day of Leman and Admu's sojourn on the world of Vigilus, their gateway into the twisted labyrinth of Imperium Nihilus. Before them was a long and winding trail that led deep into the unknown… though, they were both strangely filled with a renewed sense of purpose, perhaps even a faint glimmer of hope. Observing - and meddling in - the lives of the men and women on Vigilus had shown Leman that, in spite of how far the Imperium had fallen, how tight the grasp the Dark Gods had upon the galaxy had become, so many still lived out ordinary lives, driven by a need to protect and care for their loved ones, finding small pieces of joy and happiness to hold onto in a dark and tumultuous universe. It was a reminder of what the Imperium once aspired to be, what Humanity stood for, and what the final defeat of the Dark Gods would truly mean. Leman thought back to his time in the realm of the Pure Gods, how its denizens lived such full and consummate lives, how the 'better halves' of the Gods treated their subjects with such love and care. Perhaps, one day, everyone in the Imperium could experience this. Leman was determined to do everything in his power to make it happen, no matter who or what stood in his way.
Leman and Admu boarded the transport back to Megaborealis, the grand starliner Miriam Celeste awaiting them in the sub-orbital spaceport. It was a retrofitted passenger cruiser, modified to also ferry much-needed supplies throughout the logistically starved Imperium Nihilus. As such, it still functioned as a passenger vessel in spite of its expanded duties. It was due to leave first thing tomorrow morning, and Leman and Admu had reserved seats. They passed through the steam-choked metal jungle of the Mechanicus district, passing through the same streets they had when they arrived. Once they had ascended the spaceport, they reached the deck where the Miriam Celeste was docked. Leman had already parked their Stormbird in the starliner's hangar, so all that was left was for them to each punch their tickets and come aboard. There were several other ships docked on this main section of the spaceport, namely a Battlebarge called the Threshold of Morkai and a Strike Cruiser dubbed the Intractable. Tucked away in a corner of the spaceport was a dingy, slightly run-down looking building with a large, flickering sign that read "Betcher's Gland". It was a bar, and a fairly unique one at that - as it had the unique distinction of serving Astartes as a good portion of its clientele. Most Space Marines chose not to partake in the time-honored ritual of intoxication, however some did - namely Space Wolves and, curiously, Imperial Fists. Why Imperial Fists? Well, if the sons of Dorn are known for anything, it was never backing down from a challenge… and if the sons of Russ are known for anything, it's challenging other Astartes to drinking contests. Upon this particular day, a certain band of Bloodclaws were celebrating their successful tour of duty upon Vigilus, awaiting reassignment alongside their incoming replacements - a squad of Crimson Fist neophytes. The two groups were competing to see how quickly they could overwhelm their Preomnor organs with all manner of industrial-grade alcohols.
"Tell us again how the pretty Ogryn lady saved all of your arses from a couple'a bugs!" one of the Crimson fists shouted, laughing and banging the table alongside his comrades.
"No, no no no…" Cassius said, pausing to take another swig of Fenrisian ale. "You got it all wrong! We all did our part… mostly me, of course, but the others deserve a mention, too."
"How many Genestealers are you gonna say you killed this time?" Jax said. "A thousand?"
"Well… I, uh…" Cassius said, stumbling over his words. "Well, it was close to that!"
The other Astartes roared in laughter.
"Alright, alright. I'll tell the whole story. Nothing but the truth, Leman Russ come and strike me down if I'm lyin'." Cassius said, placing his hand above one of his hearts.
The marines grew quiet in anticipation.
"So, there we were, knee-deep in a horde of the biggest, ugliest Genestealers you've ever seen. Teeth like chainblades, talons sharp as powerclaws, hides as thick as terminator armor! Old man Yngvi struck down, leaving only the four of us to stop the swarm from takin' over the whole hivesprawl. Now, the Huscarl hands me his Frostblade… says that it's up to me to avenge him. So, I take the sword from my dear old mentor, raise it in my hands, and rush to confront the 2 Broodlords that had just bested hi-"
"Now there's 2 of 'em!" Garrick shouted, nearly spitting his drink out laughing.
As the marines roared with laughter, Cassius looked out the window with a curious expression. Wordlessly, he got up from his seat and walked to the bar's entrance, pushing the door open and looking out into the near-empty spaceport. The other marines, confused by his actions, fell silent.
"...what's the matter?" Ulfric said.
Cassius was quiet for a moment, simply staring out into the empty space.
"Oh? Oh, nothing… I just… thought I saw someone I recognized for a second." Cassius said, returning to his seat. "Anyways, where was I? Ah, that's right. So, there I am, Frostblade in hand, starin' down 3 Broodlords-"
While the Astartes were causing a monstrous ruckus on one end of the establishment, a far more depressing, almost pathetic scene was unfolding at the far side. Hunched over the bar, wearing a drab, black tunic and surrounded by an array of empty shot glasses, was a sad, crumpled husk of a battle sister.
"Anudder" Ophelia drunkenly slurred, holding up an empty glass.
The bartender simply gave her a look of uncomfortable pity, placed a bottle of grain alcohol on the bar in front of her, and pointed towards the exit. The woman gave him a pained glare, mascara dripping down her face from the dried tears. She forcefully swiped the bottle, stumbling off of the stool and trudging out of the building. She wasn't due to ship out for another 3 days but had chosen to spend the rest of her time on Vigilus drinking herself into an inebriated stupor.
Ophelia had been assigned remedial indoctrination courses as a result of her 'severe lapse in judgment' as Bellatrix had put it, due to be shipped back to the Schola Progenium like a delinquent school child forced to retake a semester of education. Only, in her case, this re-education could take decades… and even then, it would never be able to wipe clean the dark stain left on her reputation by such a humiliating incident. She was, in truth, lucky to have gotten off with such a lenient punishment for being associated with someone tainted by the mark of Chaos… though, at times, she almost wished he had been executed instead. The Cardinal was her beacon of light, a role-model she aspired to be like in faith and righteousness. His unveiling before the people of Hyperia was like a dagger through her heart, shattering everything she had known. In spite of everything speaking against it, deep down, Ophelia still believed in the Cardinal's innocence, in his righteousness, in his unyielding faith. If his faith was a lie, if his righteousness a facade, what did that say about her? Was her belief no more than an empty falsehood? No, that couldn't be. She was a warrior of the Adepta Sororitas. A daughter of the Emperor. The sword and shield of the Ecclesiarchy. It had to have been that strange man, who could seemingly disappear into thin air. The one with unnatural strength and agility, who bested her unparalleled skill with a blade using only his bare hands. Ophelia slumped down on a bench, taking a long swig of the bottle in her hand before sinking down even further.
"It'dsh all *hic* hish fauld." Ophelia said, drunkenly muttering to herself. "If nod for him… evurything wud haf been sho… mucsh… bedder."
She was about to take another drink but was stopped by a sudden sensation that grabbed her attention. It was as if someone was speaking… but she couldn't hear them. Almost as if the words were… inside of her mind. She looked down at the alcohol and worried for a second that she was about to die of alcohol poisoning, before feeling the words in her head once again. She turned to where she felt they were coming from, seeing two people and a large dog in the distance. She hid behind the bench to avoid being seen.
"For the last time, Fen, I'm not going to let you run loose in the cabins to hunt 'rodents'. I don't even know if this starliner allows 'pets'." Leman said.
Then ask. I have spent 10,000 years trapped in limbo, the least you could do is entertain my desire for stimulation. Fen said.
W-what? Ophelia thought. I-is that dog… talking?
Ophelia couldn't believe her ears… or rather, her mind. She attempted to focus as her head was spinning and vision blurring, but through the drunkenness she began to recognize the man that the dog was with.
It can't be. Ophelia thought.
He looked different. Different clothes, perhaps even a different face. Yet, somehow, Ophelia knew it was him.
"Maybe we could let him out at night, when everyone's asleep?" Admu said.
"It's space. There is no 'night'." Leman said.
"Oh…" Admu said dejectedly.
That woman he's with… there's something strange about her. Ophelia thought.
Indeed, the woman was abnormally tall… even taller than the already tall man she was standing next to, and the abnormally large dog that followed them. In fact, the closer Ophelia looked at her…
Are those… horns? Ophelia thought, just barely able to faintly see the outline of two monstrous horns jutting from the woman's head through her drunken vision.
This was it. She had finally figured it out. He was the man who had framed the Cardinal, who had ruined her life. He was an agent of Chaos, a consorter of daemons, maybe even a daemon himself. This was the proof she needed! The proof that would exonerate her beloved Cardinal and prove her right! She just had to-
In the process of trying to get up, in her drunken state she immediately face-planted into the pavement. Leman glanced over in her direction and, seeing only a strange woman sleeping on the ground next to a bottle of alcohol, decided to ignore the unsightly situation entirely. He and Admu stepped up to the ticketing booth and submitted their paperwork.
"Everything looks in order, mister… Enoch, and missus… Tia." The official said. "Enjoy your passage to… uh, Sepheris Secundus…? Not sure why you'd want to go there…"
"We didn't have much of a choice." Leman said, taking their tickets and leaving.
"Well, uh, bon voyage!" the official said.
Several minutes later, Ophelia returned to consciousness. She quickly stumbled over to the ticket kiosk, spooking the official with her disheveled appearance and erratic behavior.
"Uh, can I help yo-"
"Tell me where they went." Ophelia said. "Those three that were just here."
"...Three? What are you-"
"Just tell me where they went!" Ophelia shouted.
"You, uh, must be talking about those two folks who passed by a few minutes ago… they just boarded the Miriam Celeste to Sepheris Secundus." The official said.
"How can I get tickets?" Ophelia said.
"I'm sorry, but the seats are all-"
"Emperor damn it, I'll find my own way on board!" Ophelia shouted, storming off to find a way to sneak on board the ship.
"Hey wait a minute!" The official shouted. "...ehh, whatever. Not like it's gonna matter. Every ship that's gone to Sepheris Secundus since last year's never come back."