The capsule slid in by degrees. She dropped to her knees, wincing at the shift in weight inside her. Roxy lay still, her body exhausted, her purpose fulfilled. The weight seated fully. Just a kneeling woman, lit by a single beam of light, her hands on her belly, eyes raised in prayer. But it is holy. Her journey is one of devotion beyond pride, of suffering beyond honor. After long, hellish moments, the weight slid free. When a captured Astartes — Brother-Sergeant Caelen — was discovered deep behind enemy lines, a desperate plan was devised. Her hands clawed at the stone floor, her legs trembling violently. When it begins.”
Roxy took it in her teeth and lay down. “We need to remove it.”
“Quietly,” she said. But when Verena pressed her gloved hand to Roxy’s thigh and began the process — careful, slow, unforgiving — all pretense shattered. Between them lay the object: a power core encased in sanctified adamantium, roughly the size of a gauntleted fist.
