– Past –

– One of Maria's secret study –

Elena shivered as one of the adults coldly pushed her forward the odd-looking capsule. It reminded her of a sarcophagus.

" Time to go", said one of them, adorning the vestment and symbols of the Ordo Malleus.

The young woman slipped obediently into the capsule. It was filled with a bath of ice and cold water. Sensory deprivation. She stared unblinking as the glass panel closed and darkness enclosed her whole. She floated over the salted icy bath, not hearing a sound in the world.

Elena knew what she had to do. Her hand reached to the metallic collar and she put it on. Elena felt a painful sensation, like something rattling into her bones, when the augments of her implants connected to the collar. Two needles pierced into her neck, injecting her a cocktail of drugs. She felt her consciousness waver.

" The theory is simple, " Mistress Maria had told her when she had shown her the machinery for the first time. " Psykers gifted with divination and most specifically oneiromancy can be induced into a semi-conscious state wherein their minds can gather some features of probable futures. Some xenos that call themselves the Farseers have developed their abilities at divination far beyond what the human psyker can achieve. We cannot let the Enemy of Humanity keep that advance on us. As an experienced mentor of many young psykers in Scholastia Psykana, I have made it my duty to train you and others in service of the Imperium. Through my years of experiments and trials with my subjects, I have found ways to enhance one's precognition. This is one of my results. The oneiro-pod combines simple techniques of sensory deprivation with a cocktail of hallucinogenic drugs. It is not without danger ; some of your precessors have failed to maintain the sanity of their minds. This is why it is provided with a simple switch to kill off the subject, should they fail to honor the training of their sanctioning. You will help me enhance it. I trust you, dear child. I have done everything I can to make you the key for that peculiar lock. "

" Your role in this, my dear pup, " had continued Maria " is very simple. I will show you things - picts, audio captures, files, information about people or places. Your job is…to sleep and dream. That's all. "

Elena thought about her words when the panel closed over her again, insulating her completely from the outside world. In the secret study, Maria's apprentices were calculating things over a cogitator, studying her brain waves and checking her signals. She tested the solidity of the collar she wore. It would explode on command if she gave way to the lure of the warp during the process. She was aware that, not too far away from here, Sister Silence stood watch - the whole aisle of the palace was on lockdown, guarded with more psy-stifles and soldiers than one could imagine. She presumed that not all of Maria's experiments went well. Maybe, at this exact moment, many other young diviners such as her were being immersed into oneiro-pods for Maria's grand design - how many of them would make it out with a sane mind ? How many of them believed they were special in Maria's eyes ?

It was not important. Elena had to believe that she was alone. That she was unique. That Maria had chosen her. That someone in the world cared for her. She would have to succeed and endure the trial.

– Present –

– Dargonus, Elena's secret study –

Janris Danrok fidgeted uncomfortably as the servants connected the last cable to the main cogitator. The strange machinery in the center of the room seemed pretty inoffensive enough from here. The water inside the capsule, reflected by the dimming lights, glowed and shimmered almost peacefully.

When she was alive, Theodora had asked him for strange provisions at times. He had delivered her slaves, drugs, xenos weaponry, and questionable artifacts. But never before had a Rogue Trader asked him to build a secret psy-machine. The idea that Lady von Valancius would dive into that bothered him. He had seen the temperature scanning and could not fathom how anyone could survive more than a few minutes in that. Of course, psykers were not everyone. But he didn't want to find out what would happen should Her Ladyship reach her mental limits.

Elena stood by his side, watching the room come to life. Keeping this project a secret had been hazardous. For the moment, Heinrix still hadn't barged into the room - which meant that, for once, his numerous bugs and the eavesdropping ear of Achilleas had failed to pick up on that. Only Janris knew - the High Factotum probably resented this situation but had complied all the same. Abelard…was on to something, but she hadn't shared the exact details with him.

" Pardon me for overstepping, my Lady, but are you sure this is safe ?" Janris inquired in a preoccupied tone.

Slowly, the workers left the room, one by one. They all had one thing in common : a loved one imprisoned on Vheabos. Janris had blackmailed them into keeping their work a secret - and promised them a kinder inclination of the penitentiary administration towards their family in exchange.

" Perfectly so", said Elena. " I have been waiting for this for a long time now. Thank you, Janris, for making this come true."

Janris gazed dubiously at the machine. When Elena started unclasing the buckle of her armor, he blushed and turned his back to her. " Your Ladyship !" he said.

Sadly, Elena had to have someone watch over her - if only to wake her up if she went sleeping for too long.

You see, there is something everybody knows about diviners, and it is that they tend to go insane. This is why no one likes a diviner. Before you know it, they'll be up writing weird things over your wall, babbling incoherently about parallel dimensions and alternate universes, and playing Regicide with their mind on multiple timelines - while putting their socks backwards over their ears. Soon you'll find them obsessed about things like "a grand design", "red suns eclipsing the Calixis Sector", "finding the chosen ones" and stuff like that. Then - poof ! - one day they disappear, if they were not killed before that, and for all you know they become instruments of the Ruinous Powers, or the crazy ones that fight them in the fringes of the Imperium.

Then those that ever cared about them would wonder : when did it all begin ? What did I miss ? Why did they fall ? No one ever started that way. It just sort of happened along the way.

Elena did not know this, but when she shed away from her current affairs to isolate herself in a warp-filled dream, in search of a way to save her protectorate from certain demise - that's when she took the step that would doom her in the end.

The cold water burnt her to the core as she immersed herself into the capsule. Soon there was no sound, no light, no resistance, no smell. Nothing, but sleep.

– The future –

– Undetermined time and location –

Elena looks in the eyes of Abelard Werserian as he opens, with a trembling hand, a package soaked with blood. She already knows what is within - the head of Astartia Werserian, killed by Marazai.

What she didn't expect was for the head to turn towards her. The dead eyes, almost melted with decomposition, manage to pinpoint her in the aether, and a horrible grimace twitches the flaccid pale flesh around Astartia's mouth. She opens her mouth to talk - a black fly erupts from it.

" Elena," it says. For some reason, it speaks with Kunrad's voice. " You can't escape it."

Elena's attention gravitates towards the horrible severed head, its supernatural glow. Abelard is washed with greys as he crumbles to the floor, howling like a wounded wolf.

" What are you ? " askes Elena, mesmerized by the dead head's cruel smile.

" The inexorable. The certainty. All that your fickle lives lack. All that hope dies. I am everyone you know, I am what lurks under your skin. I am the end of fate. "

" Death", whispers Elena.

This is the thing all diviners know deep down.

Death.

It's what lies in everyone's future.

Elena blinks. She does not remember moving, but the scene has changed around her. Astartia's head rolls with a wicked laugh. She stands in a room - there is a banquet.

She feels a sense of weakness overwhelms her. She is not there, not truly there. This is just a possibility. Yet she feels in her flesh the shock of the syringe filled with psy-inhibitors at it hit her throat. Her shadow falls over the ground. Confusion twists her mind. When is she ? What is it ? She scans the agitated scene and recognizes Calligos on her left ; the man is seated in a wheelchair and barely has time to defend himself before black gloved hands twist his neck around.

" Von Valancius !"

" Elena !"

Argenta's voice ? A silhouette dressed in white robe, flaming alight, throws herself over her frame, to protect her. Someone else - a woman - Incendia ! - takes position and aims at the elusive assassin.

Elena catches sight of the murderer, coming for her, coming for them all. Clad in synskin body glove, green tubes pumping juice and drugs into his system, an executioner pistol in his hand. A skull shaped helmet hides the face of the man away. A sense of fear fills her as she understands that the man in front of her is an Eversor, the most terrifying assassin that the Imperium can send after its opponents.

Then why are Argenta and Incendia trying to defend her from it ? Or are they trying…to defend themselves as well ?

The background is scorched with melta-bombs. The weakness she feels is overwhelming as she is deprived of her psykana senses and abilities. But in her acute state, she feels something - a familiarity, perhaps, an intuition.

She knows this man.

She sees the barrel of the pistol as it aligns with her forehead.

" Orlon, pl -"

Death.

It is certainty. It is the end of change. It is the purpose of fate.

Deep down, we all know how we're going to die.

Don't you have that fleeting dream sometimes, that inner sense of déjà-vu, of what your death would be like ?

" You dare want to know about the future ?" snarls Astartia's head with Kunrad's voice, as Elena lays motionless on the ground. She is unable to move.

She has been killed. Again. And again. And again. Like some vectorial arts, her death echoes in a kaleidoscopic tunnel, playing back and forth. Different realities, different timelines. Sometimes she isn't even herself. So many incarnations, so many blank spaces to fill.

von Valancius. That such a role would be so major in acting out over the scene of the Expanse is almost ironic. Elena's mind nearly fractures and gives in to madness as the trillions lives of the von Valancius heir play around.

But she is a trained diviner. She underwent Scholastia Psykana. She knows when not to look. With effort, feeling like her head is filled with lead, she turns her face towards her weird vision-guide., ignoring the call of curiosity inside her.

Astartia's head is flying above her, with no eyes now. Kunrad's voice echoes :

" You dare wish to save them from their fates ?"

" Let me see. Let me see what is to come. I have to protect them", insists Elena. " I have to do this !"

Another wicked laugh. From up so close, the foul breath of death makes Elena gag. A black tongue emerges from the head's lips, slithers over hers. The wicked things force her lips open, entangle with her tongue, tasting of rot and worms. The maggots fill her mouth, asphyxiating her.

Worms. She hates worms. They crawl through her throat, her skull, her brain.

" That's what awaits you in the future, " Astatia's head says grimly.

As Elena vomits the maggots, the scene changes once again, in a rapid flow of flashes that make her head turn and ache.

– Eyes open. Heinrix is dressed in the vestment of a Lord Inquisitor. He is fighting away assassins carrying xeno-weaponry…-

" Heinrix ! " gasps Elena, trying to make sense of what she saw, to stop the running vision. But as she tries to exercise her willpower over it, it changes once more, and now it's an acolyte that stabs the old man in the back.

– Jae. Eyes marred with tears, she places a barrel between her tongue, cursing von Valancius… –

The Betrayer of Humanity —-

– Pasqal. Gone. All traces of him gone, replaced by something else. –

Nomos. What is it ? The man in red knows.

– Yrliet. Struck down in a war. Her green eyes shine as she gazes over Elena, even in death. –

The masked one will help…for now.

– Argenta. Falling in battle, failing in her faith. –

Everyone deserves a shot at redemption.

– Cassia. An empty shell for Tisiphone to live in. –

The curse lies in the gift.

– Idira. Her monstrous, multiple heads turn to you, cackling madly. She sees you in the warp. She sees you wherever and whenever she is. She kills Abelard in the end. She, she is everywhere, everytime, all at once - No, no, this cannot be… it speaks : -

" I see you're lost, Elena. Careful, careful where you play ; or this tapestry of fate might be the noose that breaks your neck."

" Idira ! How can you…how can it…"

Elena never had experienced anything like this before. Usually precognitions and psychometries show symbolic things. They overload her senses. But they are passive, untrue, fickle. They don't call back.

Idira's apparition is…different. She feels the daemonic power that fuels the entity, a ferocious thing of the warp that makes her recoil in fear. And yet, even like this…something remains of her companion.

" All that is life is born in an incident ;

Yet yours is entwined to where one's tomb lay.

A puppet's strings plunge you deep in torment ;

But only in pain can one get away. "

Elena stares. " Rhymes ? Really, Idira ? What in the void -"

" See," says Idira, cackling. " See for yourself what is to come." The maniac laugh gains a vile component. " Feel it in your flesh and in your bones. Try to save them if you can. But wonder : who will save you, Elena dear ?"

Elena deftly looks for Astartia's head, but finds it nowhere. Instead, she is thrown back over a table - attached, bound. Something spidery deploys above her - and she feels a deep sense of fear as a pain she has never felt before starts to overwhelm every thought of her.

– Present –

Dargonus -

Abelard's point of view-

" Seneschal, it's about the Rogue Trader…please come ! We're at the inner study…"

The Seneschal did not waste any second. He covered the vox-bead with his hand so as to hide away the message.

Abelard left the audience he was attending to, speeding up as he went, ignoring the looks over Drivestem's face as he did. He reached Theo- Elena's office - and, from there, maneuvered his way into the secret study that Theodora built for herself years prior.

He blinked as he laid eyes upon the strange mechanical structure now in the center of the room. A blue glow danced over the capsule, wherein Elena laid. He was not quite sure what happened - but he heard her screams.

Janris was busy pushing down buttons, sweating profusely, his cheeks red. " Your Ladyship ! " whined the High Factotum. " Wake up, Your Ladyship, I beg of you !"

" What's happening ?" asked Abelard, trying to understand the situation.

" The Rogue Trader has asked me to wake her up from the experiment she wished to conduct…but she is not responding and I don't know what to do !" Janris turned to Abelard. " She started screaming a few minutes ago…I don't know why. She is in distress ! "

Abelard looked at Elena's pale shape in the pod. In distress ? Not a qualificative he would have ever used for Elena, but her screams did sound raw and frightened - broken.

Abelard cursed. He knew Janris was thinking it as well : What if she is losing it ? What if she is turning into a portal for the warp ? Psykers were always ticking bombs. Was it the day Elena blew up in their faces ?

Well, this wasn't the day Abelard Werserian would fail to be at the Rogue Trader's side !

Abelard reached for the handle of his thunder hammer and, without hesitation, brought it down over the panel of the capsule. He was surprised by the resilience of the thing and gave it another blow, then another and another - until it finally yielded, giving way to cold water that splashed his uniform and boots. He cursed from the shock of temperature. Elena's body nearly sank to the ground but Abelard caught her right before she fell. She wore something around her neck, a sort of collar - but Janris swiftly brought a key to it and opened the collar, releasing Elena from the machine.

" Lord Captain ! " he shook her lightly, trying to get a reaction. Her body trembled and she convulsed - Abelard was forced to lay her on the ground, placing his coat under her head and trying to control her spasms. At least exiting the capsule-thing had made her screaming stop.

Her eyes were white, rolled up in their orbits. Whatever things her soul was gazing upon, it was certainly terrible.

Stay with me, Elena, thought Abelard. Stay with us. I'm not losing you any time soon.

" What is it with von Valancius and their need to poke their noses around things they really shouldn't be messing with ? Janris ! Are you out of your damn mind, staying here doing nothing ? Find me a medikit ! I thought that was your job as High Factotum : provide useful logistics ! "

Janris quivered in embarrassment and straightened, snapping out of his panic. His eyes were fixated on Elena. He really cares for her, understood Abelard. Janris ran into the office, rummaging through the coffers for medical components.

Abelard steadied Elena, who seemed to be calming down. Through her teeth, she was whimpering a string of incomprehensible things. Something about…spiders, dark spires. Cages. Maybe she was reminiscing something about the Black Ship ? Her voice sounded hollow and afraid - Abelard had only seen her in such a state once, when upon Rykad Minoris. He checked for any injury but found none.

" Lord Captain. Elena ! " called Abelard, resorting for once to the first name basis out of frustration. But even this lapse of formality did not wake her up from whatever vision she was having.

Abelard checked that Janris was out of the room - and, in a low voice, started singing a lullaby to Elena that he used to sing to his son Kerian when he was a babe.

" …the wolf is howling in the middle of the night,

Howling out of hunger and moaning,

Wolf, don't you come here,

I will never let you take my children."

For some obscure reason, his singing seemed to soothe Elena down, until her convulsions stopped. Abelard stopped singing immediately as a spark of consciousness lightened over her face, hoping that she didn't catch any of that.

Elena looked at him with perplexed eyes. She opened her mouth to say something - but, as she did, she was overwhelmed by physical distress and slithered out of his arms to vomit over the ground.

" Lord Captain ! By the Throne…what happened ? Are you all right ?" asked Abelard, brushing Elena's hair out of her face.

She was paler than usual, her features distorted with pain. Yet clarity was already dawning in her dark eyes as she lifted her head towards him.

" I'm fine", she lied. He knew that because she was still shaking from the cold and the fear. He'd seen soldiers in such traumatic states before. It was disconcerting to take care of someone acting like they've been gravely wounded - yet showing no sign of injuries. Her movements were strange, jerky, as if she was recoiling from her own body.

Even Elena seemed to realize that her bullshit was difficult to buy. She whispered, looking away : " Or I'll be just fine in the near future. No need to worry. "

" Lord Captain", sighed Abelard, trying not to let his annoyance and preoccupation show. " What even…is this ?" he gestured to the broken panel.

Janris came back from the study, a pile of medikits in his arms, and clumsily tended them over to Abelard. The Seneschal took them without a thanks, glaring daggers at the High Factotum.

" A sensory-deprivation capsule enhanced with warp-containment and drugs-injectors. It induces half-comatose state. It's called an oneiro-pod."

Abelard looked back and forth to the machine. Elena took the time to stand up, mustering as much dignity elegance one can when cold to the core, wet, and stained with vomit. Her legs were shaking and she stood awkwardly.

" It is a highly secretive project, Seneschal. And that panel costed our dear High Factotum a fortune. Please make sure to repair it as shortly as possible", she said neutrally, recovering her impassive expression.

Janris opened his mouth. " Your Ladyship, are y - of course. It shall be done. " The look in his eyes was telling enough of how imprudent he thought that was.

" Then you have some urgent matters to attend to, Danrok", said Abelard. The man took the hint and bowed respectfully before leaving the room.

Elena closed her eyes and shivered. " Thank you. I wasn't going to hold on for long."

" I know, " sighed Abelard as Elena finally fell unconscious in his arms. He secured her. He knew how she hated to show her weaknesses to her servants. That she let him see that in her was…worrisome.

He pressed on his vox-bead. " Vigdis, send the Chief Medic to the Lord Captain's chamber. Discreetly." He hesitated as his eyes lingered over the form of the machine. Psyker things probably needed psykers to deal with them. " And tell Tlass to come over as well. "

" Of course, First Officer. "

Abelard carried Elena over to her room and installed her inside her bed. He hesitated for a second, seeing her tremble - and, half closing his eyes all the while, helped her out of her wet body globe before rolling her over the blankets of the bed. Elena was both running hot and cold, babbling feverish nonsense.

Well, at least she hasn't sprouted out tentacles or extra-teeth, so she mostly should be okay.

Abelard ordered some maid servant to come with hot beverages and light up the chimney. As the quivering maid slithered out, and while waiting for the Chief Medic, he sat by the side of the bed, watching over the Rogue Trader.

" Abelard," she called with a faint voice. " The song…"

" Is not important," cut Abelard.

A feverish Rogue Trader looked back at him from the amount of blankets. " But it is. I feel it in its aura."

A feverish, drugged up diviner Rogue Trader. Abelard gazed away, feeling the chill of the Immaterium upon him. But he never let Tlass down when she was in trouble, and she could be worse than that. So he would not let the Lord Captain down either, even if it meant putting with her weirdness.

" It is," he admitted, feeling the grief weighing his heart down. " It was the song my late wife used to sing to our first-born boy. " He paused, as memories of his earlier life bloomed in his mind.

" Tell me his story. It helps me focus. " Elena closed her eyes, faint. " I need a foci right now, and your song was the first one I heard from this timeline. "

Abelard cleared his throat. " Lord-Captain, I can't pretend to understand all these complicated psykana stuff you're throwing at me…and I can't say these are happy memories. But - if it helps you…my first son was named Kerian. He was born with my eyes, but had his mother's hair. We were very happy. Alas, he was born with a defective sickness…something in his blood. He died of fever when he was six. It was…it was a terrible trial, Lord Captain. "

" What did he like ? " asked Elena.

" Dogs. Oranges. Ships miniatures. Spending time with his dad, I liked to believe, even though I was barely present at all. " Abelard shrugged. " When someone you love is ripped away from you, you always feel as if you missed the most important things about them. All unfolds as if you never truly knew them. "

" I am sure he loved you very much. "

" Ah - I…" his voice broke slightly but he recovered just as swiftly. " This is hardly appropriate talk, Lord Captain. I should not be bothering you with this personal family story. "

" Don't blame yourself. I have asked for it. And it's helping me gain my focus back."

Abelard awkwardly patted Elena's hands, praying to the God Emperor that she would forget the vulnerability of the moment when her fever healed. Alas, he forgot that he was adressing a psyker with eidetic memory, but one could hope.

She didn't scream at him for his lack of formality or incompetence. He would not tell her that he'd already seen Theodora in such states - he spent many hours guarding her sleep in the medbay or nursing her when she was wounded or sick.

" Lord Captain. I don't know what you were trying to experiment about, but please tell me you're not going to repeat that."

Something fierce sparked in Elena's eyes, an air of authority and stubbornness he knew all too well from Theodora. He sighed internally, already knowing the answer.

" But I have to ! " she snapped. " I have to. To find a way to avoid the wreck. To find a way through. I have to…"

For a second, it looked as if she was going to share whatever nightmarish vision had invaded her mind - Abelard leant in - but that was the exact second the Chief Medic and Tlass entered the room, ushered in by the maids.

Elena leant back, her head falling softly into the mattress, her hair spilled over her face. Her eyes widened, fixated on Idira. She fell silent.

" Hypothermia ", asserted Doctor Jane Valess in a quick scan. " I see you've already went through delivering first aid, Seneschal, but I am going to have to investigate Her Ladyship's state further to determine its gravity. "

Idira, ignoring the scene, was looking straight into the hidden study - even though Abelard had taken care of putting the secret wall back up. Like a moth looking at a flame, Idira's gaze were mesmerized by whatever her mind was picking up from the locked room.

" Miss Tlass," called Abelard, getting off the bed in order to let the Doctor work.

His voice drew her back to attention. Idira inhaled sharply. " I don't know what she's seen, old man, but it's not good. The voices…are mocking me. It's like I'm talking to myself right now." A nervous laugh. " It's stupid."

Abelard considered the psyker sternly, wondering what kind of things could rattle up two diviners in such a way. But Idira composed herself and turned her back on the hidden room, lost in thoughts.

" The Lord Captain has built herself something she called an "oneiro-pod" ," ventured Abelard as he briefed in Idira on the details. All the while, Doctor Jane Valess was busy examining Elena, who did not put up any fight and faintly accepted whatever injections and help her medic could provide.

" Strange," commented Valess, " Her Ladyship is perfectly healthy, but still shows traces of acute trauma and very high levels of stress. She suffers from hypothermia and mild tendonitis all over her body." There was time when it was better not to ask too many questions, and Doctor Jane Valess knew it was one of these times.

Idira looked at Abelard gently. " I'm going to take it from here," she offered. " You can go back to your audiences and meetings, old man. "

Abelard shook his head. He did not trust the two psykers together. " I'd rather stay here and make sure the Lord Captain is all right. "

Idira laughed. " You mean you'd rather not leave her with the unsanctioned psyker. But you can't stay. She won't talk to me if you're around. So, hush, hush, old man. Leave us girls be. "

" I certainly won't -"

To his surprise, Idira grabbed his arms and drew him out of the room, gesturing for the maids to see him out. She grabbed two mugs of tea on her way.

She stopped for a second, considering him with a strange look.

" She'll be fine, old man. Don't worry. "

Abelard frowned, wishing to express that he wasn't worried at all - but Idira closed the door to his face.