“Inside. Power returned with a low, reverent hum. The pain was white, all-consuming. With no secure means of delivery, a vital power core was to be transported in the most covert and unthinkable way: hidden within the body of an unarmed Sister. The pressure was overwhelming. She simply rolled onto her side and wept — not from shame, but from the knowledge that her body was no longer hers. She dropped to her knees, wincing at the shift in weight inside her. They threw her into a cell of rot and rust, where Brother-Sergeant Caelen hung in chains. What she had become. When it begins.”
Roxy took it in her teeth and lay down. Sister Roxy was not born a hero — she was forged into one, molded by pain, obedience, and the fire of devotion. It was done. They never suspected that deep within her, past layers of bruised and trembling muscle, pulsed the one thing that could awaken a Space Marine’s broken armor and turn him into a weapon again.
