The Salamanders had swept through every room, every corridor, every shadow of Saint Celestine Orphanage.

  Their scans were thorough. Methodical. The kind of security protocol that would detect even the faintest trace of Warp corruption.

  When they reported back, the news was cautiously positive: no additional threats detected. The three Changelings had been the extent of the infiltration.

  For now.

  But that didn't mean the danger was over.

  Which was why Lilith and Eve found themselves once again sitting in a small, sealed room—this time one of the orphanage's storage chambers, hastily cleared and secured.

  Just them and Brother Ha'ken.

  The massive Space Marine stood before them, his armored form filling half the room, his glowing red eyes fixed on them with an intensity that made Lilith's stomach churn.

  Here it comes. The interrogation. The questions I can't answer without revealing more than I want to.

  She glanced at Eve, who sat beside her with that same blank, watchful expression. Her twin's hands were clean now—the daemon blood had dissolved completely, leaving no trace—but Lilith could still see the moment in her mind. The brutal efficiency. The overwhelming force.

  Three daemons. Seconds. Bare hands.

  Ha'ken saw it. He knows now what Eve is really capable of.

  Ha'ken spoke first, his deep voice cutting through the tense silence.

  "There are two problems we need to address."

  Lilith nodded, not trusting her voice yet.

  "First: you identified the daemons. Changelings are masters of disguise—trained Inquisitors with decades of experience sometimes fail to detect them. Yet you, a child of five years, recognized them instantly. How?"

  Lilith opened her mouth to answer, but Ha'ken continued.

  "Second: Eve's display of force. I knew she possessed enhanced strength. I knew she was dangerous. But what I witnessed today..." He paused, his gaze shifting to Eve. "That level of power. That efficiency. That brutality. I did not expect her strength to be that overwhelming."

  Eve stared back at him, her expression unchanged.

  Ha'ken turned his attention back to Lilith. "Before we discuss those matters, there is something you need to know."

  Lilith's chest tightened. What now?

  "The original Inquisitor Rathken is still alive."

  The words hit like a physical blow. "What?"

  "We found him," Ha'ken said grimly. "In a warehouse near the upper hive docking sector. Bound with daemonic chains. Barely conscious. The medicae are working to stabilize him, but his condition is... severe."

  "But the escorts—"

  "Dead. Their bodies were found with him. They had been dead for at least three days. The Changelings had been wearing their faces since then."

  Lilith felt sick. Three days. The daemons had been here, walking among us, for three days.

  "Why keep the Inquisitor alive?" she asked quietly.

  Ha'ken's expression darkened. "Information extraction. The Changelings were using daemonic powers to forcibly tear knowledge from his mind. They were learning everything he knew—about you, about Eve, about the orphanage, about our chapter's involvement."

  He paused, letting that sink in.

  "Someone wanted that information. Someone powerful enough to send three Changelings into a populated hive, risk exposure, and maintain the deception for days. This was not random. This was planned."

  Lilith's hands trembled. She clasped them together in her lap, trying to steady herself.

  "How did you find him?" she asked. "How did you know where to look?"

  Ha'ken's glowing eyes seemed to brighten slightly. "I heard a voice. A whisper. It told me where the Inquisitor was being held. It told me he was alive and suffering. It told me to hurry."

  Lilith's breath caught.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  A voice. A whisper.

  "I dismissed it at first," Ha'ken continued. "Voices in one's mind are dangerous things—signs of corruption, of daemonic influence. But something about this voice felt... different. Not malicious. Not corrupt. Just... urgent. Concerned."

  He leaned forward slightly.

  "I followed it. And it was telling the truth. We found the Inquisitor exactly where the voice said he would be."

  Lilith stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.

  "I heard it too."

  Ha'ken's expression shifted—surprise, perhaps. Or suspicion.

  "A voice?" he asked carefully.

  "Yes. When the daemons were here—when I was looking at the fake Inquisitor—I heard a whisper. It told me they weren't who they appeared to be. It told me..." She hesitated. "It told me to speak. To say words that would reveal them."

  Ha'ken's eyes narrowed. "What words?"

  "I don't know. Sounds. Syllables that I didn't understand. But when I spoke them, the disguise broke. The Changelings revealed themselves."

  "The daemonic tongue," Ha'ken said quietly. "You spoke in the language of the Neverborn. A language no human should be able to produce without corrupting themselves in the process."

  "I know," Lilith whispered. "But I didn't feel corrupted. I just... spoke. And it worked."

  Ha'ken was silent for a long moment, processing this.

  "The voice," he said finally. "Was it male or female?"

  "Female."

  Ha'ken nodded slowly. "Mine as well. The same voice, then. Speaking to both of us."

  "But why?" Lilith asked desperately. "Who would do that? What kind of entity warns Space Marines and children about daemon infiltrations?"

  "I do not know," Ha'ken admitted. "And that troubles me greatly."

  He stood, his massive form casting a shadow across the room.

  "But this is beyond my authority to investigate alone. I must report this to the Chapter Master. The Librarians will want to know about this voice. The Chaplains will want to assess for corruption. This matter has grown too complex for a single Brother to handle."

  His gaze shifted to Eve, who had remained silent through the entire exchange.

  "Which brings me to the second problem."

  Eve met his gaze evenly.

  "Why are you that strong?" Ha'ken asked. "I have seen Astartes struggle against daemon manifestations. I have fought Changelings myself—they are not easy to kill. Yet you tore through three of them as if they were made of paper."

  He turned to Lilith.

  "Child. Did you lie to me?"

  The question landed like a hammer blow.

  Lilith felt her fists clench involuntarily. She'd known this moment would come. Known that her careful omissions would eventually catch up with her.

  I told him Eve's Blank nature was weak. That she couldn't manifest properly. That she was a failure.

  But I saw her file. I know what she really is.

  And now he's seen it too.

  She closed her eyes, taking a breath.

  "I didn't lie," she said quietly. "I just... didn't tell the whole truth."

  When she opened her eyes, Ha'ken was staring at her with an expression that was somewhere between disappointment and anger.

  "Explain."

  Lilith forced herself to maintain eye contact. "The files said Eve's physical capabilities matched—potentially exceeded—a fully equipped Eversor Assassin. I told you that much. I told you she was strong."

  "You said her gene-seed was a failure," Ha'ken said, his voice hard. "You said she couldn't manifest properly."

  "Her Pariah gene-seed works perfectly," Lilith said, the words tumbling out now. "But her Blank field is suppressed when I'm near her. That's why you didn't feel it when we first met. That's why the sisters don't feel uncomfortable around her. My presence—my psyker nature—it suppresses her Blank aura."

  "But not her strength."

  "No. Not her strength. Or her speed. Or her regeneration. Those are all... active. All the time. She can control it—" Lilith glanced at Eve, who was watching the exchange with that same calm intensity, "—she knows how to hold back, how to seem normal. But when she needs to? When we're in danger?"

  She gestured at the wall where the daemons had died.

  "That's what she's really capable of."

  Ha'ken's jaw tightened. The servos in his armor whined softly as his hands clenched.

  "You deliberately withheld information. Information that is critical to understanding the threat level these children represent. Information that I needed to properly protect you and assess the risks."

  "I was scared!" Lilith's voice cracked. "I was terrified that if you knew how powerful Eve really was, you'd decide she was too dangerous. That you'd take her away from me. That you'd—"

  "I gave you my word," Ha'ken interrupted, his voice cold. "I swore by Vulkan's name that I would protect you. That I would not harm you unless you proved to be enemies of humanity."

  He leaned down, bringing his face closer to Lilith's level.

  "And you repaid that trust with deception."

  Lilith felt tears prickling at her right eye. "I'm sorry. I just—"

  "How can I trust you," Ha'ken said quietly, and there was something like hurt beneath the anger in his voice, "if you are not telling me the truth?"

  The question hung in the air.

  Lilith had no answer.

  She'd been trying to protect Eve. Trying to keep them safe. Trying to control the narrative so they wouldn't seem too dangerous, too valuable, too other.

  But in doing so, she'd broken the trust of the one person—the one Space Marine—who had genuinely tried to help them.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered again, inadequate as the words were.

  Ha'ken straightened, his expression unreadable.

  "Your apology is noted."

  He turned toward the door.

  "I will be reporting everything to my Chapter Master. The voice. The daemon attack. Eve's true capabilities. And your deception."

  He paused at the threshold, not looking back.

  "A guard detail will remain outside your room at all times. You are not to leave without escort. You are not to speak to anyone without supervision. Until the Chapter decides what to do with you both, you are effectively under house arrest."

  "Wait—" Lilith started.

  "I trusted you," Ha'ken said, and now there was definitely doubt in his voice. "Despite everything. Despite the impossibilities. Despite the danger. I chose to believe you were victims deserving of protection."

  He finally looked back, his glowing red eyes meeting hers.

  "Do not make me regret that choice."

  And then he was gone, the door sealing behind him with a heavy clunk.

  Lilith stood frozen, her mind reeling.

  Eve reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently.

  "Lilith?" Her voice was quiet. Concerned. "What... happens now?"

  Lilith looked at her twin—this small, deadly girl who had just killed three daemons to protect them, who trusted Lilith completely, who had no one else in the universe.

  "I don't know," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I don't know."

  She'd been trying so hard to keep them safe. To control the situation. To protect Eve from being seen as too dangerous.

  And instead, she might have destroyed the one alliance that might have actually saved them.