Dain sat alone in the dim glow of the campfire, his mind a battlefield more chaotic than any war he had ever fought. His hands clenched and unclenched as if seeking the feel of his lasgun, something real to ground himself. But nothing could erase what had happened.
The Archivist was gone, vanished into the void as suddenly as it had appeared. Yet its presence lingered—not in body, but in him.
He exhaled slowly.
[SYSTEM ACTIVE]
The words flickered across his vision, intrusive yet silent. No sound accompanied them, no physical sensation beyond the gnawing certainty that something unnatural had taken root in his soul.
He closed his eyes, muttering a quiet prayer.
"Emperor, guide me. Protect me from corruption. Shield me from the lies of the enemy."
No answer came. No warmth of divine reassurance, no vision of golden light. Only the cold night air and the flickering notifications in his mind.
He opened his eyes. The words were still there.
With a slow breath, he willed them away.
They did not vanish.
Dain grimaced, gripping the edges of his tattered gloves. He had spent his life resisting fear. He had faced death on a dozen battlefields, seen horrors that would break lesser men. But this? This was inside him. A corruption that did not whisper false promises or tempt with power. It simply existed, waiting for him to acknowledge it.
[New Objective: Acknowledge the Interface]
Dain scowled. Even my own thoughts are being turned into orders?
Ignoring it did nothing. He could feel it pulsing at the edge of his mind, patient, expectant.
Damn it all.
He clenched his fists and forced himself to focus.
"I am Sergeant Dain of the Astra Militarum. A soldier of the Imperium. I serve the Emperor. This changes nothing."
The interface pulsed again.
[Acknowledgment Registered.]
Then, without warning—
[New Options Available.]
A rush of information coursed through him, felt rather than seen. Not words, not sound, but understanding seared into his mind like a brand. His body tensed as strange sensations overtook him—a heightened awareness, a deepened clarity, the instinctive knowledge that something was now different.
And then, before him, two choices.
---
[Choose Your Path]
[Path of the Warrior] – Enhance your physical prowess, sharpen your instincts, become an instrument of war beyond mortal limits.
[Path of the Seer] – Unlock the veil of foresight, perceive the flow of battle before it unfolds, shape fate with every step.
---
Dain's breath hitched. This was wrong. This was sorcery, heresy—a test.
He ground his teeth. This was what the Archivist wanted. To make him choose. To push him toward something unnatural.
"No."
He refused.
"I do not need this."
He willed the choices away, forced his mind to reject them. He would not walk the path of the mutant, the psyker, the abomination. He was a soldier of the Emperor, and he would remain as such.
The options flickered, as if considering his defiance.
And then, something changed.
The words shifted.
---
[Path Chosen: The Unyielding]
[You have denied the power offered. You walk the path of resistance. Your faith will be tested.]
[New Trait Acquired: Indomitable Will]
---
Dain inhaled sharply.
It had changed.
Not forced him into a decision, not bound him to some inhuman ability—no, it had acknowledged his defiance.
His heart pounded. Whatever this thing was, it was not an unbreakable force. It adapted. It responded.
And that meant it could be fought.
He clenched his fists, standing tall beneath the cold night sky.
The Emperor's light had not abandoned him.
This was his trial.
And he would endure.