The ruins screamed in silence.
Though the artifact had dimmed, the echo of its power still lingered, pulsing like the dying heartbeat of something vast and unknowable. Dain could feel it, thrumming beneath his skin—a whisper just beyond hearing, a pull just beyond reach.
But he ignored it.
He had to.
The Custodes stood around him, unmoving, like statues of golden judgment. Their leader, the veteran who had addressed him before, had given no name. He did not need to. A Custodian did not seek recognition—he was recognition.
And now, that gaze was turned upon Dain, heavy as the Emperor's own.
"You will speak of what you saw," the Custodian commanded, his voice like the grinding of ancient stone.
Dain clenched his jaw. He had trained for interrogation before. He had been drilled to give reports, to strip away emotion and relay only the facts. But this?
This was not a normal debriefing.
Dain took a slow breath, steadying himself. Lies were death. Omission was death. He had to tread carefully.
"The artifact awakened," he began. "It tried to claim me. I resisted."
One of the Custodes shifted slightly. It was a small motion, almost imperceptible, but it sent a spike of tension through Dain's spine. These warriors did not fidget. If they moved, it was deliberate. It meant something.
They know.
They knew something was different about him.
Dain forced himself to continue. "I fought my way out. The entity that resided within… it was ancient. It did not speak as men do, but I felt its intent. It sought to bind me to something beyond my understanding."
The Custodian regarded him for a long moment before speaking.
"And yet, you live."
It wasn't a question.
Dain stiffened. This was the test.
"By the Emperor's will," he answered, his voice resolute.
The silence that followed felt like a blade against his throat.
Then, slowly, the Custodian nodded. "Perhaps."
Perhaps. Not a dismissal. Not an acceptance. A warning.
Dain resisted the urge to exhale in relief. He wasn't safe yet.
The lead Custodian turned to the artifact. "This world is tainted. It must be purged."
Dain swallowed. That meant exterminatus.
The planet would burn.
He had fought for this rock. He had bled for it. And now, it was simply another line in the ledger of planets sacrificed for the Imperium.
Part of him should have felt anger. Frustration. Regret.
But instead, all he felt was cold resignation.
This was the way of things.
"I will assist in whatever means necessary," Dain said.
The Custodian's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before turning away. "Your duty remains. Orders will come soon."
And just like that, the conversation was over.
Dain stood there as the Custodes moved like golden specters through the ruins, their presence alone enough to banish any lingering shadows.
But even as he stood among them, surrounded by warriors who had walked the halls of the Imperial Palace itself…
He had never felt more alone.
Because deep inside him, hidden beneath layers of duty and will, something shifted.
The system had changed.
And no amount of faith would make it go away.