The ambush is over, but Elias has drawn attention — and suspicion. Fira confronts him in private, demanding answers. Elias admits he doesn't understand the source of his power, only that it's changing him. Fira must decide: expose him as a heretic… or keep his secret. The wrong choice could doom them both.
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The fires had been put out.
The dead were stacked in a corner, covered with scavenged tarps — cultists and civilians both. The smell of burnt flesh lingered like a stain on the air.
Sergeant Kael had taken the rest of the squad to scout the surrounding hallways, leaving Elias and Fira behind to tend to the wounded — or so it appeared.
But the look she gave him now said otherwise.
She wasn't here to bandage wounds.
She was here to interrogate him.
They stood behind a half-collapsed supply kiosk, its shelves still covered in melted nutrient packs and broken ration tins. The shrine statue nearby had been defaced — the Emperor's face scratched out, replaced with a spiral burned into the wall above.
Elias sat on a crate, arms resting on his knees, head low.
Fira stood with her back to the squad, arms crossed, watching him with a surgeon's precision.
"You're not a psyker," she said quietly. "I've seen psykers. You didn't move like one."
He glanced up at her.
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm not."
A pause.
"I'm terrified."
Elias looked back down. His hands were still trembling slightly. The chakra was fading, returning to whatever core it had emerged from, but the sensation lingered — like pressure behind his eyes, or static in his muscles.
"I didn't choose this," he said.
Fira didn't move.
"You moved faster than a lasbolt. You created… copies of yourself. You kicked a woman across a hallway like she weighed nothing."
"I know."
"You should be in shock. You're not."
"I've been in worse situations."
"Not here you haven't."
She crouched across from him, eye level now. Her tone stayed flat — not angry, not accusing. Just clinical.
"How long have you had these abilities?"
"Since yesterday."
"That's not funny."
"It's not a joke."
She watched him carefully.
Elias hesitated. Then exhaled, slow and deliberate. He wasn't sure why — but he decided to tell the truth.
Some of it.
"I woke up in the underhive. No memory of how I got there. No records. Just a name in my head. A voice in my skull. It calls itself a 'System.' It gives me power when I fight. That's all I know."
Fira said nothing.
No sarcasm. No disbelief.
Just silence.
Then:
"You're telling me you were born yesterday with a ninja power generator in your head."
"Basically."
"From the sump tunnels."
"Correct."
She stood slowly, taking a few steps back. Her hand didn't go to her weapon. But it hovered closer than before.
"And you expect me to believe that?"
"I don't expect anything. But it's true."
Fira looked away, toward the broken hallway.
The sounds of distant lasfire crackled again — short bursts from far-off fights.
The war was still raging.
And standing here was a man who moved like he didn't belong in this reality.
She sighed through her nose. Crossed her arms.
"Do you know how many people get burned for less than what you just did?"
"Yes."
"Do you know what Commissars do to anomalies?"
"I have a good guess."
"Then you know why I should put a bolt round through your skull right now."
Elias met her eyes.
He didn't flinch.
"Yeah. I do."
The silence between them stretched.
Then Fira shook her head — once, sharply.
"Frak me. You're either mad or suicidal."
"Both, probably."
She gave a short laugh — bitter, surprised, unwilling.
"I'm not going to report you," she said.
Elias blinked. "Why?"
"Because whatever you are… you saved my life. Twice."
A pause. Her voice lowered.
"And because if you are something worse, I'd rather know where you are than let the Inquisition get to you first."
Elias exhaled.
The knot in his chest loosened. Slightly.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"Don't thank me yet. This doesn't make us allies. It doesn't make you safe."
"I figured."
"It means I'm watching you. Every second."
He nodded. "Fair."
She turned away.
Then, almost as an afterthought, she added:
"My name's Fira. Fira Vorn."
Elias gave a faint, tired smile.
"Nice to meet you, Fira. Under better circumstances, I'd say let's get a drink."
"Under better circumstances, I'd shoot you and sleep better at night."
He chuckled — and winced. His ribs reminded him they still existed.
Then the vox clicked on.
Kael's voice, sharp and urgent:
"All units — contact inbound. PDF elements are retreating toward sub-sector Delta. Reinforcements en route. Be advised — higher command is watching."
Another voice joined in, gruffer, older. Cold.
"This is Commissar Hendryk Vael. I want the anomaly brought in. Alive. For now."
Elias froze.
Fira looked at him.
Their eyes met.
No more jokes.
[END OF PART 4]