In the dead of night, Reyna sat in her quarters, outlining her plan to three crew members. From how they would ostensibly leave the Talon system, only to return and infiltrate unnoticed, to how they would evade the drones patrolling Hiveworld, every detail was meticulously covered.
The sole objective of this elaborate scheme: the assassination of the so-called Lord of Talon.
Reyna spoke with grim resolve, though the sight of her explaining a plot to kill the ruler of an entire star system to a trio of sailors was faintly absurd. Yet, the three crew members listened without fear or doubt, their expressions cold and focused, absorbing every step of the plan and every hard-earned insight Reyna had gathered over time.
"Thankfully, I have a team of professional killers on my side. Otherwise, I wouldn't know where to start."
"Thank you."
With those words, Reyna rose and offered the Eagle Salute to the crew. It was unusual for someone like her, an informal Inquisitor, to salute a group of sailors, but Reyna knew their true identity—members of the Assassinorum.
About a month ago, they'd approached her, seeking an alliance, though their reasons remained unclear.
"Ma'am, I have a question."
One of the crew members, a portly middle-aged man with a thick beard, raised his hand, but the voice that came from his mouth was unmistakably feminine.
Reyna immediately recognized it as the voice of the first assassin who had contacted her—a Callidus Assassin capable of shifting between male and female forms. The return of her female voice was likely meant to emphasize the gravity of her query.
"Ask away," Reyna responded without hesitation.
"Do you believe the Governor of the Talon system is an unregistered psyker?"
"Yes," Reyna nodded. "If others had acknowledged it, we could have indicted the entire system for harboring a rogue psyker!"
The assassin nodded thoughtfully, seeming to turn something over in her mind. After a brief pause, she posed a second question.
"And why are you so certain the Governor is a heretic?"
"Intuition. My instincts have always been remarkably accurate."
"Very well." The assassin nodded slowly, then issued a warning: "This situation is far more intricate than we initially thought. We're about to embark on a covert mission, and if it fails, I need your assurance that you won't expose us."
"I can make no such promise," Reyna replied firmly. "All I can ask is that, should the mission fail, you ensure my death. It's that simple."
This candid response satisfied the assassin. She glanced at her colleagues, then back at Reyna, giving a final nod of approval.
"For the God-Emperor!"
"For the Imperium!"
"For the survival of mankind across the galaxy!"
Reyna's voice surged with fervor as she addressed the three assassins.
"I will stop at nothing, risk everything, to accomplish what others fear to attempt—to eliminate the enemies others dare not confront!"
"We..."
The assassin raised her hand, cutting Reyna off mid-speech. "Apologies, we need more time to prepare. But your words are inspiring."
Unfazed by the interruption, Reyna nodded. "Let's focus on what's more important. The assassination begins in three days!"
The three assassins agreed, nodding in unison, before vanishing from Reyna's sight.
...
Two hours later, Reyna knelt in her chamber, carefully anointing her weapon with the fat of a fallen Ecclesiarch.
The priest, a battle-brother from over a century ago, had fought by her side with unwavering loyalty and honor. This fat, a token of his devotion, was his final parting gift, and now it coated the blade of her power sword, a weapon capable of slicing through armor as though it were nothing.
As Reyna prepared, fleeting visions and voices began to flash through her mind—images of skeletal remains scattered across Hiveworld, malevolent symbols carved in bone, and blasphemous rituals performed in secret.
"He...he...he is a threat...to all of mankind...you must...you must...end him!"
The distorted voice echoed in her ears, accompanied by flashes of the heretical ceremonies. This was why Reyna was certain of her mission—to kill Qin Mo. She believed she had received a divine premonition, possibly from her predecessors in the Inquisition, or perhaps even the God-Emperor himself.
It was an order she could not defy, a mission she was destined to fulfill.
"Three more days of rituals, and I'll be ready to sever that heretic's head in a single strike." Reyna examined the gleaming blade of her power sword, gifted to her by her mentor. It had always seen her through, cutting down enemies and helping her escape from the most perilous situations.
Satisfied with her preparations, Reyna moved to her desk, retrieving a small diamond-shaped box and placing it gently on the surface. Another gift from her mentor, it was a psyker-based recording device, capable of establishing a mental link and capturing thoughts, even across great distances.
She wasn't sure if the upcoming mission would succeed, but she wanted to leave something behind, something that would ensure her legacy if she failed, so another could complete the mission.
After configuring the box, Reyna's work for the day was done. She poured herself a drink, then turned and collapsed onto her bed, drifting into a deep sleep.
Reyna dreamt a vivid dream that night.
She saw herself standing victorious, the severed head of the heretic held aloft as she marched through every district of Hiveworld, proclaiming his blasphemous deeds for all to hear. The commoners bowed their heads in silence, the nobility applauded, and the planetary defense forces escorted her through the streets like an honored guest.
The dream filled Reyna with exhilaration, and she woke briefly, her body drenched in sweat. After a moment, she rolled over and fell back asleep, where another dream awaited her.
In this second dream, Reyna found herself in an unfamiliar place. When she opened her eyes and looked around, she saw an enormous metallic hall, vast and imposing.
The hall did not appear to be on any planet's surface, as when Reyna glanced through the windows, there were no moons or skies visible outside. Yet, it was not dark within the palace, and in the dim light, she could make out every object around her.
Towering iron columns stood throughout the hall, each adorned with photographs and holographic displays, all depicting acts of heroism.
Among these images was a young man, not conventionally handsome, with a square jaw and a determined expression. In some pictures, he stood at the center of a group of soldiers; in others, he fought side by side with them.