Magdalena strode down the corridor, her chestnut brown hair fouled with black and green ichors from the Tyranids she'd slain that morning. In her right hand was a naked blade, its length wreathed in angry red flame. There was a fierce look on her face, and her doe-brown eyes held a strange intensity. The Adeptus Arbites and Inquisitional Stormtroopers fell back before her, unable to meet that terrible gaze, for within it was the judgment of the Emperor.
As soon as the Thunderhawks had landed at Point Phobos, the Living Saint had leapt into the air and flown to the entrance of the STC facility. The corridor between Point Phobos and the city of Parvati was under attack from massive waves of Tyranids, and every available marine and soldier was on the ramparts fighting for their lives. Now was the time for her to act.
The guards at the door had looked once into her eyes and stepped aside, their hearts filled with shame. Her skin seemed to shed a gentle light around her, lit from within by the powerful flame of faith and purity. Though the orders of the Inquisitor were simple…no one is allowed within the facility without his express permission…No one dared challenge the avenging angel of the Imperium. They feared her holy retribution more than they feared the confessional chambers of the Inquisition…
Janus Clementis appeared before the door to the Inquisitor's inner sanctum, "Saint Magdalena, this area is restri…"
He never finished the sentence as she brushed him aside, pushing open the door with her free hand. Janus skid across the concrete floor of the corridor, hurled by some unearthly strength. Striding into the antechamber, Magdalena called out, "I have come, Gaius, and the Emperor is with me."
She glanced about the opulently furnished sitting room, her eyes narrowed in seething anger. The couches and chairs had obviously been taken from the mansion of some wealthy soul in Parvati, upholstered in the finest fabrics and crafted of the rarest woods. The table was laden with a feast, roast duck, fresh fruits, and vintages of wine to suit the most discerning of connoisseur. The Ecclesiarchy considered such luxury unhealthy and potentially dangerous to the soul. Only through austerity and suffering could purity be assured.
Upon the walls were hung paintings of a most lurid and lascivious nature, and to Magdalena it was clear that all of them had been seized during Inquisitor Saevitiae's crusades. Deviant "artwork" crafted by cultists sworn to Slaanesh featured prominently, showing pleasures and horrors that defied human imagination. Others were of obvious Eldar manufacture, some artifacts from the time of their fall, while others were the work of Dark Eldar depicting scenes that shocked even Magdalena's sensibilities. Sculptures lined the walls of a similar horrific nature.
Her mouth agape in revulsion, she turned toward the doorway opposite where a gaunt figure stood. Magdalena blinked, "Sister Harodia?" The former Sister Hospitaller's breasts heaved in the tight Repentia's corset as her breath accelerated out of control upon seeing the Living Saint. Magdalena looked over her costume, obviously a perverse parody of the Order of Saint Celestine's habits. "Emperor's Tears, girl…what has he done to you?"
Harodia stood frozen to the spot, nearly hyperventilating in terror and guilt with her hands clenched so tightly her fingernails drew blood in her palms. Magdalena stepped forward and took the woman's chin in her hand roughly. The psychic tried to turn her head away, "No! No! Don't look at me! Do not look upon me!"
The Living Saint's grip was like steel and she forced the penitent to look her in the eye, "What has that monster done to you, Harodiah?" Tears flowed from the psychic's eyes as she made tiny noises in her throat with each rapid exhale of breath. Magdalena locked her eyes onto the Hospitaller she had sheltered for so long and looked into the girls' soul…
She stepped back in shock at what she saw there, releasing Harodiah from her grip. The psychic swooned, hyperventilating and falling to the cold tile floor. "Leave my servants alone, Maggie," She heard Gaius' voice behind her. Turning, she saw him standing in the doorway, dressed in his full battle regalia. His power armor was deep purple with the gold Imperial Eagle emblazoned across the front. His cloak was white with braided golden cords and on his back was the Fasces, a master-crafted power axe. "You should not have come here."
