“I carry the fire,” she whispered. It may break you.”
Roxy, pale and resolute, nodded. ***
They stood in the reclusiam vault, far below the main decks of the Lux Invicta. The belt muffled it only slightly as the edges of the capsule stretched her farther than she thought possible. A member of the Adepta Sororitas, Roxy once stood tall in power armor, her voice rising in hymn as bolter fire thundered in righteous fury. She had prepared the core, anointed it, warmed it with sacred oils to ease the passage. Only two souls breathed in that silent chamber: Sister Roxy, stripped of everything but faith — and Priestess Verena, whose hands trembled despite decades of ritual calm. But it is holy. Each movement brought fresh waves of agony. Caelen stood over her, full height restored. Cold. Cold. Her body was already tense.
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