Dain moved like a shadow through the ruined cityscape, his breath controlled, his footfalls soundless against the cracked stone. The Inquisition's retinue had left their main camp under the cover of night, moving with the quiet precision of men used to operating in the darkness. This was not a sanctioned hunt against xenos or heretics—this was something deeper, something personal.
He kept his distance, relying on his enhanced senses to track them. Ever since the system had taken hold of him, his perception had sharpened beyond anything he had once considered normal. His body moved with an unnatural grace, his instincts guiding him in ways that felt both familiar and alien.
And now, they led him toward the truth.
The Hunt
Inquisitor Kael's squad fanned out, their black armor blending into the ruins as they searched for their prey. Thaddeus Ren had gone rogue. The man had been trusted, had been considered an exemplary interrogator, but something had changed. His mind had been poisoned. Kael had seen it before—men who peered too deeply into the abyss and found themselves consumed.
They had cornered him in the remnants of an ancient temple, the air thick with the weight of something old. Kael could feel it—a pressure against his mind, a presence that did not belong.
"Ren!" his voice echoed through the hollow ruins. "You cannot hide. Surrender, and you will be judged fairly."
A chuckle.
From the shadows, Thaddeus Ren stepped forward, his face illuminated by the sickly glow of the artifact he now cradled in his hands. But there was something wrong about him. His posture was too relaxed, his expression too knowing, as if he were no longer bound by the constraints of fear or duty.
Kael stiffened. This was no longer the man he had trained.
"Judge me fairly?" Ren mused, tilting his head. "Kael, you sanctimonious bootlicker, you couldn't judge the quality of your own boots, let alone the truth of this galaxy."
Kael's hand tightened around the grip of his bolt pistol. "You're tainted."
Ren let out a sigh. "Ah, there it is. The typical Inquisitorial response—if something does not fit within your narrow little worldview, it must be tainted. No room for questions. No space for doubt. The Emperor's will, black and white, with no shades of gray. How adorably ignorant."
Dain, hidden within the ruins, watched in silence. There was something unsettling about Ren. His words were sharp, cutting through Kael's authority like a scalpel through flesh. But what disturbed Dain more was the artifact in his hands. It pulsed with an unnatural energy, and with every word Ren spoke, it grew brighter.
The Gift of Knowledge
"I see things now," Ren continued, stepping closer. "The Archivist showed me. You think you understand this war? This galaxy? Oh, Kael, you don't even begin to grasp the scale of the game being played. You're a blind man stumbling in a maze built by hands older than your entire species."
"Enough," Kael snapped. "Surrender or die."
Ren smirked. "Die? Oh, I already did, in a way. The moment I understood. But let me tell you something, Inquisitor. The Emperor you serve, the Imperium you fight for, it's all built on lies. Beautiful, golden lies, but lies nonetheless. The truth—oh, the truth is so much more entertaining."
The artifact flared, and for a brief second, Dain saw something shift in Ren's eyes. Understanding. Not the fractured madness of a heretic, but something worse. Clarity.
Ren turned his gaze to the shadows where Dain was hidden.
"You there," he called out. "Come closer. You're already part of this, whether you want to be or not."
Dain froze.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Who are you talking to?"
Ren grinned. "Oh, don't play dumb. You know he's there. You're an Inquisitor, after all. You're supposed to be competent, even if reality disagrees."
Dain hesitated before stepping forward, his rifle still in his hands.
"Sergeant Dain," Kael said coldly. "Explain yourself."
Ren let out a soft whistle. "Oh-ho! A Guardsman with secrets of his own. And here I thought this was going to be boring. But no, fate has a sense of humor after all." He turned back to Kael, his expression amused. "Well, Inquisitor, what now? Will you kill me? Go ahead. It won't change the truth."
Kael aimed his pistol. "No more words, Ren."
But before the trigger could be pulled, the artifact in Ren's hands erupted with light.
And then, everything changed.
The Archivist's Influence
Dain felt it before he saw it. A pulse of knowledge, rushing into his mind like a tidal wave. Fragments of history, of forgotten wars, of ancient beings that had walked the stars before mankind had even learned to shape fire. Visions of the Warp, of Chaos, of the truth behind the Imperium's carefully woven myths.
And Ren—Ren was at the center of it, laughing.
"Oh, this is glorious," he said, his voice echoing with something more than human. "I see it all now. The Emperor's golden cage. The lies the Astartes tell themselves. The petty squabbles of mortals playing at gods. And Chaos—hah! Even the Ruinous Powers are but pieces on the board, blind to their own limitations."
Kael staggered back, his eyes wide with horror.
"You've damned yourself," he whispered.
Ren smirked. "No, Kael. I've been enlightened."
Dain clenched his fists, his mind still reeling from the flood of knowledge. His system flickered, struggling to process what had just happened.
New Quest: The Path Unfolds—The Grand Deception
Objective: Decide what to do with the truth.
Ren turned to him, his gaze knowing. "You feel it, don't you? The weight of understanding? The burden of knowing just how small the Imperium truly is?"
Dain grit his teeth. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to believe that his faith in the Emperor would shield him. But he had seen something. And it terrified him.
Kael steadied himself, raising his pistol once more. "Ren, by the authority of the Inquisition, you are to be purged."
Ren simply smiled.
"I'd like to see you try."
The artifact pulsed one final time.
And then, Ren was gone.