**Author's note: This chapter was attached to the previous chapter, but I have split it since it ran long**

A soft cloud of steam swirled before me as I sat chewing on my own personal failures in a sauna. Around me, I felt the Divine Retribution gently shifting and groaning as it landed on Nubua. The steam gently billowed through the air as I sat sweating, trying to force my mind to relax. Like most of the lights on this newly empowered vessel, there was a dim gold radiance spilling through this little horizontal space. Two broad benches of some kind of perpetually cool coppery metal stood facing one another in the small sauna, which was about three meters wide by four meters long with a frosted glass door to the outside. An elaborate ivory bas relief of cavorting cherubs danced gaudily across the ceiling. It was exceedingly impressive that this ship actually had a sauna, and I was thankful that it did so I could sit here and contemplate the erosion of my moral compass in peace.

What had I done? I killed all those people. I damned them. I never even tried to talk to them.

Too upset to even watch the ship as it landed from the bridge, I had taken a brief bath in my quarters with a chunk of that awful Mechanicus soap to scour myself of insect filth, and found that I had scrubbed my skin so roughly that it had turned red. I had even sent Wolfie to go back to the Warp, as I definitely needed to be alone. The reflective metal of the tub gave me a good view of how much of my hair had whitened. I now had two sections of pure white hair over each eye, all the way down to the root. The rest of my hair remained unchanged, and remained long, dark, and wild. My eyes were still gold, so aside from my hair, nothing else had changed.

After my bath, I donned my robe and asked the ship where the steam sauna was, and it helpfully illuminated track lights on the floor, leading the way. The sauna was located in a sort of crewmember area lined with different rooms, some singles and some doubles. This appeared that I had been somewhat correct in my estimate earlier. From what I could see here (or at least in this area), the Divine Retribution had comfortable space for 20-30 people as either crew or passengers. Four rooms aside from mine were larger and more comfortable than the common bedrooms, each with larger beds and a small sitting area. On my way to the sauna, I passed some of these open rooms, and spied Alberich laying dead asleep on a bed, beak open and snoring. In another room, I saw Lian's back as he kneeled in silent prayer. Null was probably in the engine room, which I had yet to find.

Close to the bedrooms, there was an absolutely luxurious bathing area that reminded me of an old Roman bathhouse. More ornate ivory bas reliefs that covered the metal walls here, illustrating the excessive wealth and care behind designing this ship. Six cubicle showers lined the walls, and a gold (currently empty) hot tub large enough for a primarch to comfortably soak sat in the center of a circular room lined with braziers. A more public gang shower lay in a separate area further down the hall, closed off by a metal door. Six toilets (all gold) stood in their own private rooms outside the bathroom area. I was honestly getting really sick of all the gold.

On the way to the sauna, 99-Z found and followed me, telling me that she was to serve me in any capacity I wished. The lady servitor had been assigned as a sort of personal servant to me by Null. When I stepped inside the sauna, she stood outside, mindlessly holding a towel for my eventual use. This got me ruminating on who that woman used to be, and where she had come from before becoming a lobotomized slave. It made me feel even worse. Had Null been the one to servitorize her?

I thought back to Levant. The local region had been completely depopulated beyond the Slaaneshi cultists, but the Necron pylon itself had been manned by plenty of servitors, and they had to come from somewhere. Null even readily admitted to me before that he had been actively modifying the population, likely telling me a half-truth to disguise what he was really up to. If any locals happened to escape the grip of the Cult of Amnaich, Null had turned them into servitors! This was on top of sabotaging his exploratory fleet a thousand years ago. Here I was having a hard time with Alberich being some random Nazi psyker while Null had sacrificed thousands of innocent people through his cold-blooded ambition!

The realization of this made my stomach drop. This whole universe was a monstrous perversion of a reality. Everything felt bad, and nothing felt good. I guess I should feel right at home, considering my own cruelty toward my fellow humans.

If I kept ruminating here in the sauna while isolating myself, I'd probably think myself into a panic attack, so I stood up to open the glass door. I was as relaxed as I was ever going to be. The lady servitor outside offered me my towel, and in two of her mechadendrites, she held psyker rations and a metal jug of water. This was good because I was likely upset enough to forget to eat.

I kept my eyes down as I made my way back to my room, following the track lights that the Divine Retribution illuminated for me. Around me, I felt the humming ship shift and move into its familiar standing rest position as I finally reached my captain's quarters. 99-Z followed me, and as I walked inside my room, I noticed that the two black screens on the walls here were now displaying a planetary system map. An eagle icon with spread wings stood on top of the planet named "Nubua". I studied the display built into the wall adjacent to the table with two metal chairs, and took a seat. This planetary system had eleven planets, and they orbited around an aging orange star. This system was unique in that it appeared to have multiple comets, dwarf planets with wide elliptical orbits, and three asteroid belts. It appeared very chaotic and messy.

Along with needing a Space Ikea and a Space Costco, I was going to also need to get some Space therapy, I thought, sitting at the table and taking the two psyker food packets from 99-Z. She produced a metal cup and poured me some water from a metal jug. "I wonder who you were..." I mused, looking at the nearly-mindless slave. 99-Z did not respond, and her large black goggles remained expressionless.

"I used to be alive," I heard a familiar male voice respond to me in my suite. I nearly dropped my water cup mid-sip in surprise. On the other side of the suite, there was a familiar figure wearing fine grey robes, and slouching sadly while seated on one of the ruined sofas near the old coffee table. "I've been told that I died," he added. The robed man turned to me, his sad hazel eyes constricted with emotion.

"99-Z, please wait outside," I instructed the servitor, who bowed in acknowledgement. She left the water jug on the table for me.

Virgil had appeared in my room. Unlike when I had seen him before, he was not partially insubstantial, nor shimmering in a strange cast of gold. Aside from the occasional ripple over his form, he appeared to be 100% alive. "Virgil?" I asked.

"My apologies for barging into your quarters like this. Scion, but I have spoken with Archmagos Nemo, and he says I need to make a request of you. Many things have changed, and I just wish to confirm them as well. Ogun Nemo calls himself 'Null' now, I have been told. He tells me that I have been dead for a thousand years, and that I never woke up from my last projection, that my heart burst within my chest. He tells me that our fleet is lost, and that Levant is gone. Please tell me, are these things true?" Virgil asked, looking away.

I nodded, and saw a single tear fall from the dead astropath's face. "Yes. I'm sorry, but I think you died when we were projecting inside this ship. You stood over the throne on the bridge, and you... died. Null told me that he worked with a psyker who had expired while investigating this vessel a thousand years ago, and named you."

Seeing Virgil in full substantial color for the first time, I was able to see that he was fair-skinned, and only a couple inches taller than me with a thin build. The astropath's eyes were hazel, and were currently bloodshot, likely from crying, and his hair was a sandy light brown that stood up straight on his head. His dark grey robes were of a fine quality, and were embroidered with various stylized eyes in a dark red thread. The elaborate metal collar that I had seen him wear before was gone.

The astropath clenched his knees nervously, shaking his head. "So, I really was the ghost during our meeting after all?" he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. Virgil placed his hands up to cover his face, displaying his anguish as he bent over in despair. "It is incredible to think that a thousand years have passed. It feel as if I only just saw you hours ago. I witnessed a blinding light, and then I beheld you sitting on the throne. No passage of time. It is all very confusing. My research has led me to strange places, it seems. My own afterlife included." He kept shaking his head, took a breath that he didn't need to take, and steeled himself, sitting up straight. "Null says that I am but a reflection of myself, a fault of mismanaged life energy, and that I might be unstable. My time may be limited here. I may vanish after the ship fully regenerates and restabilizes. Null has told me to find you, and petition you to prevent the Divine Retribution from consuming me."

"Will that make you alive again?" I asked, pouring myself another cup of water. Normally, this would have upset me, but I was too run down for that. A ghost was now haunting my Warhammer 40k spaceship? Alright, that's okay.

"No. Not in a proper sense. I believe I would exist as myself here within the Divine Retribution, but perhaps as a shade or a memory of what I used to be. But, it remains a form of existence for me, and I am, or, was, a psyker of good training when I was alive. Null can attest to my character. If you need help in this universe, I can help you with counsel. The laws of our universe are likely quite different than the laws of where you came from, Scion."

"So, what do I have to do?"

Virgil appeared confused, and his form washed like water over a shallow pond. "Simply will it so, of course. Certainly you have full control over this vessel, unless I am mistaken. I do owe you an apology as well. I have recently been told that your honorific in this universe is Scion, and not Empress. My apologies for any impropriety, Scion. My resurrection has left me somewhat confused, but I will adapt. I would surely serve you well, and without question to the best of my ability. As a sanctioned psyker who formerly officially served the Imperium of Mankind, I know much. Even if you decide to consume me once again to strengthen this grand vessel, I would accept my fate. It was my life's dream to meet one of your kind, so I am at peace with whatever option you so choose."

I didn't immediately answer. In response, Virgil stood up, and prostrated himself on the floor below me. "I swear to serve under the most holy of-"

"Hold on, just let me figure it out. Get up," I said to the astropath, who sprung quickly back up and sat back down on the ancient sofa. Alright, Null said I didn't have to be hooked up to the throne for everything. Maybe this would work? "Divine Retribution?" I immediately felt the ship acknowledge me. "This ghost that is before me, this shade. Do you see him?"

A pause.

"Faulted consumption of life energy. Repairing error. Reabsorption will commence in 5...4...3..."

"No, stop. Don't do that. Do not absorb," I said. Virgil's eyes went wide with shock, his shade glitching and momentarily losing all color. "Is it possible to keep this life form stable and independent? I would like to keep him around, like, as a hologram or something. Is that something you can do?"

"Affirmative. Reabsorption aborted. Subject to remain independent holographic representation of thoughtform?"

"Yeah, sure, let him stay." I began to rummage about in my pack on the floor, looking for my silver scissors. I finally realized that I was hungry and I needed to eat. Need more sugar brain calories, yeah.

"Action confirmed. Name of subject-thoughtform?"

I looked across the room at Virgil, and gave him a nod.

"Uh, my name is Virgil Allegrii, noble machine spirit," the astropath said, his voice cracking.

Virgil's form briefly flickered before becoming solid once again.

"Addition of independent subject-thoughtform designation Virgil Allegrii confirmed," the Divine Retribution replied as the astropath immediately began to weep in relief, standing up once again and bowing over and over in gratitude. I snipped open my food packet, and swallowed a mouthful. Today's paste teased the palette like a toddler's feast, and resembled cotton candy, strawberry milk, and play dough. This was the best tasting ration yet, I thought with a wince.

The screen on the wall switched away from the planetary system, and I now saw Null standing before me in the engine room. "Out of the bath? Requesting permission to disembark," the tech-priest asked.

"You didn't ask me permission to walk around outside when we were on Kolch," I said, choking my paste down. After thinking about all the awful things Null had done, I was not feeling friendly toward him. Maybe I would bully him more like I had done to Lian to make sure the tech-priest didn't randomly decide to experiment on me. That's what gets results in this universe, right?

Null didn't notice that I was seething, and curtly replied, "You were unconscious then. The machine spirit here recognizes its crew and the trust you have in us, so it will respond to some of our requests if you are unable to give orders. I thought it prudent to ask this time around, as you are the captain of this vessel and captains typically give orders on when to disembark."

"Do you need me outside?"

"No. For this, I only require a helper, and I wish to venture outside to do a more thorough atmospheric reading and cursory examination of any visible damage on the hull. From what I see here from the Divine Retribution's sensors, you would need air filtration if you would wish to walk off ship, and depending if a storm is passing through the upper atmosphere, a pressure suit."

"Alright, go outside when you're ready, then."

"Null?" Virgil asked the screen as he stood up and stood beside me. "I'm being kept on. The ship will not consume me. In this form, I also seem to have my conventional sight returned to me. I can see again, my friend. Great news, huh?"

The tech-priest's eyes shifted from blue green, and up to pink as they approximated an expression of relief as he exhaled heavily. Null then averted his eyes from us. "Good, good..."

"You still haven't apologized," Virgil said, angling his chin upward.

Null's eyes shifted toward grey, and he glanced at me before returning his attention toward Virgil again. "We will talk later, you and I. For now, you exist again, and for that, I am very grateful. We have work to do once again, old friend," the tech-priest said. There seemed to be something bothering him, but he wasn't telling us. I wasn't in the mood for drama right now, so I just continued slurping my ration while staring into space. "As you just heard, I am going outside for a short time. I would advise you to begin learning what limits your new reconstituted energy form has. It is also obvious to me that the Scion is quite drained from her taking us over four thousand light years away from Kolch, so my suggestion to you is to leave her be for now. Trouble her not with any problems right now."

"Of course, Archmag- I mean, Null," Virgil said as the screen flickered before returning to the map of the system again. It felt like these two had an unfinished conflict from that exchange. The astropath turned to me and bowed again, "Thank you for allowing me continued existence, Scion. I must express my greatest happiness in being able to serve you in any capacity, even if I am dead. I will not disappoint."

With a static-y crackle of electricity, Virgil dissolved into a smear of pixelated gold light, and I was left alone in my room again. We had another new crewmember, it seemed.

Still feeling very negative, I searched for a distraction, and began to investigate the model of the planetary system we were visiting on the screen. At the bottom right corner of the screen, the numbers 02:59/32:00 were visible, and as I watched, it ticked over to 03:00/32:00. It looked like a clock, and I assumed that the "32:00" number displayed how many hours were in a day on this planet. It was probably nighttime outside. Also displayed were a few lines of information that displayed basic snippets of information concerning where we presently were.

Planet: Nubua

Location: Valley of the Sun

Coordinates: 21.42664, 39.82563

Temperature: 23°

Barometric pressure: 710mb

Conditions: Haze

Wind: 10kmph wnw

Visibility: .25km

A few of the planets were decorated with other notes that designated size, class, rotational period, and other bland statistics. I noticed that Nubua itself had an extra icon that said "notes".

Curious, I reached toward the screen, touching it. A circle with an "X" marked "restricted" appeared, but with another touch of my finger, it unlocked with a "captain override permitted". A few pages of what resembled brief journal entries appeared. It appeared the previous captain had been here before.

++ Captain's personal log: Independent Empires of Nubua's Cradle, 009.555M25. Captain (REDACTED), Divine Intervention ++

Oh, this was super interesting. From this date I see that it was definitely a very old ship. I knew that Trazyn had been familiar with it before, as he had also called it the Divine Intervention. I also knew that it had been buried on Levant for ten millennia, but this date marked this ship at least four thousand years earlier than that. It had been active during the Dark Age of Technology! Why the captain's name had been redacted was a mystery.

++001, Day 1, 09:55 local: We arrived on request of the Prophet King, Nabopolassar, and landed with great fanfare outside the Nubuan planetary capitol of Byrblan. They assure me that the cease fire remains, but I do not trust them. The children came out of their shelters and threw flowers at our feet. This is something I am still not used to. I do not like it. Today, we are meeting with the local officials, and we will be given a tour of the capitol. They tell me that Byrblan is the oldest and most sacred city in the entire congregation of Independent Empires.++

I reached over and picked up the second food packet, slicing it open with my scissors. I was quite interested in this. The lore that existed about the Dark Age of Technology was very minimal, so it was neat to read about a lost civilization from that time. I wondered if there had been any Men of Iron on Nubua. The second paste packet tasted like eating a handful of Skittles washed down with orange juice. It was particularly nasty. With a swipe of my finger on the screen, I kept reading. A brief power fluctuation on the Divine Retribution caused the lights to flicker and scrambled the letters on the entries before it returned to normal. The ship was probably still settling down.

++002, Day 1, 25:40 local: The people of Byrblan are a strained, nervous type. It is obvious that they were informed of our visitation, and told to be on their best behavior. We were taken to their best schools, and shook hands with some of their most promising future leaders. I didn't know what sort of advice to give these people aside from the generic "study hard" and "be excellent to each other", that sort of thing. I think they were disappointed. They are taking us to visit the Heart of Empires in the Museum of Prophecy tomorrow, their most sacred place. Tonight, we are to dine with some of Nubua's leaders at another banquet prepared for us. Even during a war they afford us luxuries even kings can scarcely afford, watching as we take each bite of their finest foods with slavish admiration, and writing down each of our movements in great detail on long scrolls. An honour such as this has never been given to an offworlder on this sacred world, they assure me. Malachi tells me that I bring hope to this populace, and that I am to simply entertain them for now. As long as it keeps them from blowing themselves up out here, I'm happy.++

I took a drink of water as I continued to read, remembering all the different shapes I had seen inside the Retribution when I had been taken into the past by Virgil on Levant. This vessel was truly very old, and I wondered on the origins of the last captain. It very much felt like this ship was typically piloted by Travelers, and Tzeentch himself said that there were definitely other people who crossed over into this dimension, and not just from my time or universe. Alberich, who had been a Nazi in his former life, was proof of that. Could it pull people from fictional universes? Maybe the last captain had been Luke Skywalker or something? I continued eating my gross food paste, and began to read again.

++003 Day 2, 12:01 local: Instead of the Museum of Prophecy, my presence has been requested at an emergency diplomatic conference between the warring factions of this civilization. There is a temporary cease fire right now, but tensions are still very high. I'm not sure what they expect me to do. I don't have any military or political experience. I'm just some guy with a bloody eagle ship, and I don't like pretending. Mal and Leah had to convince me to go along with these people and cooperate. Easy for them, they're not the ones getting forced into being some kind of figurehead.++

"'Bloody', huh?" I said aloud. Sounds like the last captain was a British guy. Maybe he was from the Doctor Who universe? Or maybe he was the Doctor himself? I immediately shot that thought down, as this guy sounded way too self-conscious and humble to be the Doctor. He was probably just some random guy that Tzeentch had capriciously yanked out of his home reality for fun, like me. Poor guy. He probably wasn't around anymore since it had been thousands of years since someone had piloted this ship. I hoped that he had eventually found his way back home.

++004 Day 2, 28:14 local: We sat with the leaders of the differing nations all day. Some were using holograms to attend, unable to be there in person. Their history is complicated, and everyone remains tense. Witches have been popping up everywhere, but at least there aren't any rogue machines killing people like that last world. What a bloody mess. This reminds me of the Cold War, but a thousand times worse. Each civilization has enough weapons to blast their neighbours to slag, and talks keep breaking down. Nubua is their civilization's seat, and has traditionally acted as a neutral place for each nation to meet and talk, almost like a space Switzerland. Right now, and for the last thousand years, the nation of Azyra has controlled this planet, but others have been making overtures that this planet is a part of their "cultural heritage", so they want to claim it for themselves. I guess people remain people no matter what age they live in.++

Seeing Switzerland and the Cold War referenced suggested to me that this guy was from a world and time that was at least similar to mine. It didn't make much sense that these people had immediately invited him into their highest government meetings for peace talks, but maybe seeing a giant psychic eagle spaceship land on your world would trigger some superstitious thoughts about who flew it. I wondered again what I would do once we hit more crowded Imperial space. The Divine Retribution was very distinctive. Maybe there was a way to somehow camouflage it?

++005 Day 2, 31:01 local: I have just discovered that the governors of Azyra have been preventing emissaries from Barann, Lydia, and Medina from attending in person, and that's why they were using holograms to attend the meetings instead. No wonder that last meeting was tense. Better than nothing, I guess. After the meetings, the crew and I had tea on the Divine Intervention. Leah suggested again that I use my Corona during tomorrow's meeting in order to pull them off the brink, but that would be an affront to free will. Just because she's used to using her skills to mess with people like that doesn't mean that I should. People have to come to peace on their own, not under the subjugating influence of what they assume is an angel or a prophet. I can't stay here. The Wizard said I have a responsibility, but I can't just stay on Nubua and force these people into a peace.++

What a "Corona" was seemed to be a mystery, but from all this it sounded like this Traveler guy was also a psyker, and he had an ability to dominate people. At least one of his other crewmembers was a psyker too, and a woman. Maybe it was similar to my ability to scare people into submission like I had with Lian? I could see why the previous captain wouldn't want to use that ability to force people into signing peace treaties.

++006 Day 3, 29:27 local: Peace talks broke down disastrously today. The emissary from Lydia was not of the belief that I was the chosen one to save them, and was staunch in his conviction. Secretly, I agreed with him, but I didn't say anything. After the derailment, the meeting dissolved into all these kings and philosophers arguing about religious doctrine. During his holographic shouting that I was "no better than any man", we saw the shadow of an assassin reach as he slit the holographic emissary's throat mid-sentence, dying as we heard shots ring out. This was used as proof by the people of Medina that I was a false herald, and that peace would never happen, that the prophecies of Nubua were false. Shortly thereafter, we were rushed out of the building. Bomb threat. I can't do this anymore.++

Things were looking pretty grim as I read that last entry. Sadly, I remembered that this area was named the "Deadly Desert", so this visit probably didn't have a happy ending.

++007 Day 4, 11:11 local: All is safe. An overnight diplomatic save prevented Lydia and Medina from going to war again. We don't know who sent the assassin. The kingdom of Barann was conspicuously absent from this morning's meeting, which concerns me. This afternoon's meeting has been adjourned for a visit to that Prophecy Museum instead. I'm not looking forward to it. Again, the children are sent out to throw flowers at our feet. The children don't smile. I feel the Warp behind these worlds churning. I can almost hear the Changer laughing at me...

I was relieved to see this entry, but I still felt bad for the people who used to live here. In the last fifteen thousand years, something had happened to completely destroy this civilization, so eventually, war won out. I swiped to the next page in the journal.

008: (REDACTED)

Just as I was getting really into reading these entries, the lights on the Divine Retribution flickered again, and the words on the ninth entry and beyond glitched into unrecognizable glyphs. I swallowed a mouthful of my sickeningly sweet food packet, and swiped back out on the screen so that it displayed the system of Nubua again. I noticed that this time, some of the names of the planets had partially glitched out as well. This was probably Null's department. Did the Divine Retribution need a software update?

"Null, you still there? What's going on? I thought you were going outside," I said to the screen, hoping that my words would carry without requiring me to blast them through the entire ship. The screen switched to display the tech-priest's back as he tinkered with something, his mechadendrites reaching over and around him. He appeared to be at a desk, and I could see random bits of metal spread out ahead of him. "Null?"

The tech-priest appeared surprised and whirled around to face me. "Scion! You gave me a fright!"

"What's going on with the ship? The lights are flickering and some of the words on my display screen are messed up."

"Oh, my apologies, Scion. I was working on some minor self repair and recharging before I venture outside. I wish to be in full working order before I go out. Must have crossed a few wires here." One of Null's mechadendrites reach offscreen to something, and appear to tug. Immediately, the lights glimmered again. "Better?"

"Sure," I replied, wondering what he was up to, but not really caring. It was probably something shady, knowing him. "So, when are you going out?"

"I will be outside within a few minutes," he answered quickly.

"Okay. Let me know how it is out there." I yawned, realizing that I was now starting to crash, despite my overwhelming self-loathing and anxiety. Not being aware for a little while sounded like a good idea. "Actually, look, I'm going to take a rest. Wake me up when you're done outside. Tell me what you see."

Null nodded, "Understood. I'll figure out what sort of hull damage we suffered in the Warp. The ship has regenerative properties, so it may just be that we need to wait a little while, but I still need to investigate."

I finished my Skittles paste packet, and said, "I get it. Be safe out there." Null cut off his side of the transmission, and I was left looking at the system map again. The letters were still glitched, but I didn't feel like reading anymore. I was tired, and in need of a rest after being a terrible person. On the table next to my water cup, I saw the psychic-nullifying chain that the tech-priest had given me. This was actually Virgil's, but I doubted that a hologram could use something like this, so I took it in hand.

Almost immediately, my blood pressure fell, and I felt calmer. This chain definitely relaxed me, but I still knew that I was a mess and I have to do better. I couldn't let myself get carried away like I had earlier when plugged into the Divine Retribution, or else it would consume me. And getting lured out of my body and hanging out that Lord of Change in the Warp was a major failure on my behalf; I really needed to work on my discipline. If Tzeentch hadn't liked me so much, I probably would've come back fully insane or inside out instead of just burnt at the edges. Curled up in a ball, I held the chain in my left hand, running my thumb over its wide links. Despite my nerves, I quickly fell dead asleep without even turning off the lights.