"Just passing by," Uthran said casually.
"Really?"
"Alright, fine. No, not really. I came to the Talon sector to handle some business."
Caught red-handed with no room for tricks, Uthran sighed and confessed the truth to Qin Mo and the Burner.
Facing the Burner's unyielding gaze, Uthran explained his purpose: west of the Talon Sector's core lies a system known in the Eldar tongue as the Refuge. Hidden within one of its planets' subterranean temples, a long-imprisoned ancient Eldar warrior awaited liberation. To unlock this temple, the crystal seer was the key.
"The warrior himself is not a significant threat to you," Uthran assured. "His sole purpose is to join the Death Guard and shield Yvraine from a mortal blow. Let us retrieve him. You may even send your kin to observe us, and if I am lying, they can incinerate us on the spot."
The Burner had long entertained thoughts of roasting Uthran, but a sense of pragmatism held it back. Ruthless though it was, it was no fool.
"Very well," Qin Mo agreed without hesitation.
Uthran blinked in disbelief. Was Qin Mo genuinely willing to allow this? Could Sahr's past aid and Yvraine's intervention have softened this Star God's notorious disdain for psychic entities?
"But there is a condition," Qin Mo added. "I have a warship lost in the Warp. You must find a way to retrieve it for me."
"Of course..." Uthran muttered, his fleeting optimism shattering.
Still, the terms were fair enough. Each party stood to gain something. Without hesitation, Uthran accepted, saying, "Tell me the details of your warship, and I'll locate it for you."
Relying on Eldar foretelling, Uthran surrounded himself with protective trinkets made of wraithbone, shielding his soul. From within the relative safety of the enclosed webway, his task did not seem especially hazardous.
"It's a cruiser called *Path of Glory,*" Qin Mo began. "The ship was thought to possess sentience. During the Battle of Cadia, even amidst catastrophic Warp energies, it failed to retreat. Its captain, Sain, eventually teleported it into Abaddon's *Vengeful Spirit,* detonating both in mutual destruction."
Uthran listened attentively, closing his eyes as he delved into the Sea of Souls.
Moments later, he opened his eyes with a frown. "The *Path of Glory* isn't in the Sea of Souls."
"Impossible," Qin Mo retorted firmly.
Shrugging, Uthran relayed what he had seen. "I found a warship, but it is neither in the Sea of Souls nor within the Eye of Terror's remnants. It's in the Maelstrom."
"The Maelstrom?" Qin Mo's expression darkened.
"It appears the ship's bridge is all that remains intact. If this is indeed your warship, congratulations. Restoring it will ensure your fleet suffers no lingering ill effects from its initial demise." Uthran hesitated before adding, "There's also someone alive aboard the bridge."
Qin Mo processed this revelation silently. If Uthran's vision was accurate, the *Path of Glory* was indeed what he sought. Yet why had it ended up in the Maelstrom and not the Warp?
Unlike the Eye of Terror, the Maelstrom was a smaller Warp rift in realspace, situated far to the galactic east relative to Terra. It bordered regions like the Badab Sector and was home to pirates and renegades.
"Why isn't it in the Warp? I watched it enter with my own eyes," Qin Mo finally asked.
"Perhaps it was spat out like a derelict vessel. Or maybe a god intervened," Uthran speculated.
Turning to the Burner, Qin Mo instructed, "Monitor them until they leave. I need to organize a fleet and head to the Maelstrom to retrieve my ship—and my people."
---
The moment the *Vengeful Spirit* entered the Warp, *Path of Glory* detonated within its bowels, reducing Abaddon's flagship to shattered fragments.
Miraculously, the cruiser's reinforced bridge deployed energy shields just as the explosion occurred. Sain and his crew, preserved in stasis pods, survived the calamity. Through the bridge's viewing ports, they glimpsed the chaotic hellscape of the Warp—a realm of incomprehensible sights and sounds.
Their relief was short-lived.
A grotesque creature resembling a cubical mass of metal, adorned with thrashing tails, floated through the bridge walls with ease. It approached the stasis pods, piercing them effortlessly with its appendages to devour the helpless crew.
Within mere moments, Sain watched his comrades reduced to lifeless husks. As the beast turned toward him, he closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.
But then—gunfire.
Startled, Sain opened his eyes to an impossible sight: a massive black sphere drifting through the Warp, its tendrils snaring the bridge. Upon the sphere were soldiers clad in gleaming power armor, armed with rifles emitting golden beams. They engaged the Warp creatures, cutting them down with ruthless precision.
One of the armored figures leapt onto the bridge's exterior, gazing skyward. Above him, the black sphere projected a celestial hologram.
"Commander Albert?" Sain's voice trembled as he pounded against the glass. "Is that you?!"
Once, Sain had served under Albert in the 31st Regiment. The sight of his former commander filled him with desperate hope. Yet Albert made no move to respond, his posture unyielding.
Sain's efforts to draw his attention proved futile. His flesh had fused with the stasis pod, rendering him motionless. Trapped, he could only listen as countless voices filled the air:
"What sustains us?"
"The sacrifices of the fallen."
"What fuels our prosperity?"
"The sacrifices of the fallen."
"What defines a sacrifice?"
"To fight for humanity and the sector until death, unwavering and unyielding."
The voices grew louder, hauntingly familiar. They were the same solemn words recited during monthly memorials in the star sector. Residents would gather beneath the orbital dockyards or their projections, paying homage to the honored dead.
The black sphere bore a striking resemblance to those dockyards. Yet unlike the robust constructs of reality, this one was battered, besieged by countless Warp entities.
Sain witnessed no conclusion to the battle. In an instant, it was as if a spatial engine had activated, pulling the bridge—and the remnants of the *Vengeful Spirit*—out of the Warp entirely.
As salvagers swarmed the debris, one vessel zeroed in on the intact bridge. Its hull bore a distinctive emblem: a black hand set against a crimson circle.