Elsewhere:

Brother Orias of Fort Pykman's Deathwatch Fortress Monastery was nervous this evening as he set about his patrol. The feeling crawled like lictor venom through his fearless veins, and danced through his hearts like a spike of ceramite. It was unusual and uncomfortable. He had awoken to his duties this morning with the unusual mortal feeling settling in him. Speaking to the Chaplain brought no immediate relief, and a quick exam turned up nothing foul.

He was just nervous, they said. Sometimes, mortal emotions can sneak their way even into the bravest of hearts. He had been instructed to pray, and was given the meditative duty of watch patrol along the outer walls of the Monastery. The pacing did help to ameliorate his uncomfortable feelings, and the Chaplain had assured him that these things would pass, but not to tell his brothers about it.

He was counting his steps as he paced down the long hall, the light of the stars a witness to his shame of his crawling anxiety, as it was a mortal emotion, one that he was supposed to be rid of.

Nine hundred eighty eight, nine hundred eighty nine... the marine counted each pace to himself, willing his thoughts to still, and to kill the worm that gnawed within him. He reached the end of the hall, and turned around once again, beginning his march anew, keeping his attention to the starry sky outside. This patrol was more symbolic than anything, as the many sensors in the blessed machines that guarded the Monastery would capture any sort of hostile intrusion here long before his sharp eyes detected anything out in the void, be it Chaos, alien, or even an errant piece of space junk crashing into them. This was good for the mind, he conceded.

Nine hundred ninety, nine hundred ninety one, nine hundred ninety two...

Ahead of him, he saw his Brother-Chaplain Vael, walking quickly with purpose down the hall on the opposite side of where Orias strode on an unknown errand. As Vael passed him, Orias spied that his severe features seemed drawn and tense. Vael was nearing his fifth century, and had seen much, so it was also likely that Orias was misreading his Brother's deep lines as appearing disquieted. Space Marines, especially those veterans in the Deathwatch, knew no fear, so it could not have been that. Without comment, the Chaplain passed Orias, and he heard a door slam behind him as he continued his patrol.

Nine hundred ninety three, nine hundred ninety four...

This patrol truly was a good idea, he thought. It was good to get the excess energy out of his limbs. He was an angel of the Emperor, and lived to kill the enemies of mankind. It had been awhile since he had been on assignment, so he imagined he had a touch of cabin fever since returning from exterminating the Genestealer Cult on Ramience Prime two weeks ago. It was a shot from his boltgun that had crippled the mighty Patriarch, enabling his Captain to remove its bulbous head.

Nine hundred ninety five, nine hundred ninety six, nine hundred ninety...

Brother Orias's keen senses brought his attention to the window. It had been a bright flicker of something in the sky, something that wasn't a star. He paused for a moment, searching for its origin outside. Meteorites were rare, as were errant shots by clumsy brothers practicing outside, but they still happened. No alarm rose, and everything remained normal. Behind him, he distantly heard arguing through the dense ceramite doors of the fortress. This wasn't his concern, so he ignored it. Orias began walking again, keeping his eye on the window.

Nine hundred ninety seven, nine hundred ninety eight, nine hundred ninety nine...

At the very moment he counted his nine hundred ninety ninth stride, another thing flashed in the starry sky. Brother Orias stopped immediately, and looked outside the window.

It appeared to be a brightly moving star, flickering in and out of existence along its path straight across the sky. As he studied the strange light, he heard the door open at the end of the hall, but did not turn. Was this light one of theirs? Perhaps a tracer round sent through the void to study trajectory? How odd that it had a gold tint to it, he contemplated. He observed the tiny light as it flitted in and out of existence. When he tried to look closer, the hair on the back of his neck stood up as an image seared into his mind.

It was of an eagle of gold, wings spread and wreathed in fire, and cloaked with the power of godlike fury. The image in his mind became so vivid that his brewing anxiety swiftly turned to fright, and he stumbled with a yell. Before he could right himself, Brother Orias felt something sting his neck, and as he lost consciousness, he whispered out "divine retribution."

Brother-Chaplain Vael was standing at the end of the hall with an Apothecary, who lowered a specialized dart gun.

"Orias saw it too," Vael said grimly. "Bring him in for processing. The memory must be removed." The Chaplain frowned at the unconscious marine. This was serious. It was serious enough that he needed to tell the others. As the Apothecary collected Orias, dragging him down the hallway, Brother-Chaplain Vael activated his com bead, "Hail Watch Fortress Erioch. Codename, Phoenix."

The Chaplain stood watching the stars outside for a few moments, feeling the primal chill that brought fear to those who did not, nor could not fear.

Elsewhere:

"Look, I'm telling you to do your fucking job, Grigori. You were hired here as my personal advisor, not to wake me up whenever you had a fucking nightmare," the young petulant lord said, sitting up in his massive bed of silken sheets. Two beautiful women startled awake next to him, and the lord didn't like the stupid noises they made, so he slapped them quiet.

Grigori ignored this, and stood over the lordling's bed. "It is my duty to inform you when I feel a shift in the Sea of Souls, and as the hands of fate move. I had a vision, just now, one of-"

"Have you been drinking again?" The lord barked over the cowering beautiful women. "You come into my fucking room in the middle of the night to warn me of a scary dream? Look, talk about it tomorrow. We'll get you a therapist or something. Get the fuck out of my room, Grigori. I can't even enjoy these whores now because they're depressing. I'm docking it from your pay."

Grigori nodded plaintively, and turned softly back to his quarters, closing the door behind him. He decided then and there to leave certain bits of information out of what he had just witnessed in his meditations. Fate can be cruel to those who mock it, and fate was definitely cruel to those who dared to ignore the words of a prophet. In all affairs of state, he was definitely a man to please, since he had the power of sight. Heading to his quarters, he made a mental note to have the northeast wing of the palace cleaned and tidied for a feminine guest of power.

Elsewhere:

Fillja and Illryli were starwatching through a crystal telescope on the roof of their tree house. They had snuck out past bedtime, and were being quite naughty tonight. It was night where they were, in the forests of the Exodite world of Quilan, but the blessed World Spirit that protected them was restless, so the twins decided to watch the stars instead. Father had gone away on some kind of visit to personally meet with some of the elders, and mother was traveling with the scary clowns. This wasn't such a big deal, since father could easily check in remotely using his abilities to see far, so the twins stayed with their extended family.

"Let me see! My turn!" Fillja complained to her brother, who was hogging the scope. "I'll tell father!"

Illryli was transfixed at something, and didn't seem to hear her. Out of the corner of her keen Aeldari senses, she felt her father was greatly worried, and was running far away somewhere. The twins were children of one of Quilan's elders, so the ability came naturally to them. As soon as Fillja thought of her father, his wise blue-eyed face appeared in her mind. He seemed very worried. Tears stained his cheeks.

Listen to me, my darling children, I have to see to something, it is an emergency. Very soon, an injury will occur in the Sea of Souls, and our World Spirit will cry out in pain, as she does already. I will return when I can. I love you very much. Father was now speeding along inside of the green and blue wraithbone spacecrafts that they rarely used to observe the stars from high up. It actually felt like he was outside the planet, along with a handful of others in their little spaceships. Why was father running off so quickly?

I am sorry I could not take you with me. Forgive me for this, beloved children. Please know that I love you and will always love you.

The tone of his psychic words and sudden departure put little Fillja on edge, so she took a deep breath, and shook Illryi's shoulder to get his attention. He still wasn't moving, so she said, "Illryli this is serious. Did you hear what father said?"

The young aeldari child fell over dead, his ears bleeding as he had seen the rupture of the rift on Levant, and as Fillja screamed, so did the world spirit of Quilan, and so did her father, light years away already with devoted Warlocks by his side. He had seen the Eagle, and with that, everything would change.