Day 270, Year 986, Millennium 41
Lower Hive
District E
Eric stared at Raoul for a long moment, long enough for the anger and resentment in his heart to slowly be replaced by pity. Raoul's breaths were soft "Hiss... Hiss..." every time he tried to speak. His body trembled as if it might collapse at any moment. The pustules on his body throbbed like tiny creatures wriggling inside. Eric couldn't believe that the person sitting in front of him was the selfish guide who had left them to die in this district.
"... Damn it, Raoul... Why did you become like this?" Eric muttered under his breath, his voice muffled through his mask. Honestly, Raoul probably didn't deserve to be hated so much. Raoul chuckled softly, blood and pus trickling from his throat.
"Ha... Ha... It's a coincidence, Erica... It's unfortunate that I got a gift from Grandfather Nergle... But... that gift hurt too much to bear. *Cough cough*" He coughed so hard that dark green blood gushed from his mouth.
Eric approached. He stood in front of the rotting body, one hand clutching his plasma pistol tightly. Castra hid behind him. She bit her lip and turned away. She knew exactly what Eric was going to do. Raoul looked up at Eric through a curtain of blood and tears.
"Just... let it end quickly... I don't want to become one of them... As a thank you... If you still want to go up... go to the alley with the drugstore, with the picture of a sexy model on the side... there's a staircase at the end," he said in a pained voice. Eric met his gaze. One of Raoul's eyes had turned a dull yellow, but the other still held a human spark. At least before he died, Raoul had chosen to give directions. Perhaps he had been too biased. Eric took a deep breath and spoke softly, his tone calmer than he had expected.
"... You're selfish, Raoul... but no one deserves to die like this... but thank you," Eric said calmly. He backed away slightly before slowly raising the gun, the muzzle pointed at Raoul's forehead. For a moment, their eyes met. No more words, no apologies, no explanations.
There was only understanding, no words needed.
Boom!!!
The plasma pistol rang out, accompanied by a bright blue-white light. His head instantly evaporated. Raoul's body twitched briefly before slowly stilling. Then everything went quiet, only the sound of metal hitting the ground softly. Eric lowered the gun. He remained there for several seconds.
"... Rest in peace, you son of a bitch," he said softly. He reached out and removed Raoul's bag. He took some money, some light armor, another night vision device, and, most importantly, his own lassgun. Eric holstered the plasma pistol, slung it over his lassgun, and, with the help of Castra, he slipped the light armor over his cloak. It was a little loose, but it was enough. After putting on the armor, Eric gave Castra the night vision device, and he slipped Raoul's on instead, at least to give her a chance to escape and provide some protection for Eric.
After that, they continued their journey...in Eric's mind at this moment. He figured that judging by the direction Raoul was heading, he'd definitely be heading into an alley. Eric didn't hesitate to lead Castra inside. He held the lassgun in one hand, using his sling as a support, which prevented him from aiming normally since the lassgun was at his waist level.
He continued walking into the dark into the alley. He encountered a few zombies inside, but Eric was able to easily take them down with the lassgun. Although his aim wasn't particularly convenient, at least the zombies were killed with just one shot. In no time, Eric reached the other side of the street. Once he exited the alley, he saw the pharmacy Raoul had mentioned. If he remembered correctly, he'd only walked about 500 meters. Eric looked around and, seeing nothing, led Castra into the alley. He thought that if Raoul hadn't abandoned them, he would have made it to the top long ago.
But as Eric walked inside, he found a fair number of zombies inside, but perhaps not too many to handle. Eric aimed his lassgun and slowly shot at the zombies one by one. Over time, he killed them all. Eric held Castra's hand, leading him through the piles of zombie corpses in the alleyway. As he walked further, he found a door. Eric carefully opened it, kicking it open with his foot with all his might until it slid open.
He discovered a spiral staircase. Eric quickly climbed it with Castra.
However, the spiral staircase was narrower and steeper than Eric had expected. It was made of rusted, old iron. The sound of his shoes hitting the ground echoed with a soft "crack... crack..." sound, as if it hadn't been used or maintained in decades. When he looked up, he sighed again. It felt just like the stairs he'd climbed up from under the hive. The stairs were very high, but at least they weren't monkey bars where he had to use both hands to climb. Eric held the lassgun in his left hand, while his broken right hand was tightly bound to his body, immobile. He gritted his teeth every time he had to exert himself to lift himself up. But he still didn't stop moving, and Castra stayed in front of him to prevent anything from attacking her from behind. The sound of his breathing coming through his mask became faster and heavier.
Castra, walking ahead, could hear her soft footsteps and her panting breaths. She must have been tired, but she didn't dare complain. It seemed like almost an hour had passed and they hadn't reached the end yet.
"Erica... How much longer do we have to walk?" Castra asked, her voice shaking slightly, a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and hope. Eric breathed heavily before answering.
"...I don't know...but I think...it's close." His voice trailed off. He was panting heavily now, and his chest still ached, but he could endure it. The musty, dusty smell from the lower floors still lingered in the air. But as they ascended, the smell gradually faded, becoming something similar, though much less intense. The air began to improve, though to Eric, it was still not pleasant. He could smell something burning and concrete.
After climbing several hundred more steps, Eric began to see a faint light coming from above, which delighted him greatly. His heart beat unconsciously faster, replaced by exhaustion and excitement. Eric now thought there was nothing dangerous, so he slung his lasergun over his back and reached out to touch the railing on the wall he hadn't touched since he started climbing the stairs, hoping he could speed up.
"...We're almost there... Castra. See that..." Eric said happily, pointing at the light. The girl looked up, and she smiled tiredly.
Eric smiled faintly behind his mask. The two continued walking, step by step, until they reached the top of the stairs, where they appeared to be a large vent blocked by a metal grating. Eric used all his remaining strength to push it open. The hinges creaked, and suddenly, light from outside flooded his face. The air upstairs was better. Not much better than downstairs, but definitely better. Although it was now filled with the smell of concrete, corpses, and burning things, it seemed the upstairs was also affected. Nevertheless, he had done what he had wanted to do for a long time: leave the lower level and go upstairs.
"...We... are up here, Castra..." Eric said happily, before removing his and Castra's night vision goggles. He stepped out slowly and cautiously, taking Castra's hand. He looked around. The place still looked very much like the lower hive, with its high metal ceilings and artificial light bulbs. But the light here was brighter than the lower hive. He saw tall buildings half-exploded, streets littered with debris, and thin smoke rising from the remains of damaged and burning armored vehicles. Eric imagined it wouldn't be much different from the lower hive, only cleaner, judging by the layout of the housing and some of the items. There seemed to be more factories, and the area seemed deserted. Castra looked around, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Erica... is this... the upper?" Castra asked, his voice full of curiosity and surprise mixed with disappointment. Eric nodded slightly before answering the girl.
"Um, yes... the upper... the place we're trying to reach... don't make that face. It's definitely better than the lower if it's not in this state," Eric replied, trying to imagine what the upper hive would look like if it weren't in this mess. It would definitely be better than the lower hive.
Eric thought about finding a place to hide. He didn't know what the upper hive would hold in this situation. But before he could take another step, his legs suddenly weakened. The pain from his broken ribs returned, stronger than ever. His broken right arm was also growing numb. He staggered forward and fell to the ground.
"Erica!" Castra screamed. She rushed to support her sister, but it wasn't until Eric hit the ground that she finished her sentence. Castra shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. She flipped Eric onto his back and removed his gas mask, shaking him, which only made the pain worse.
"Stop it already..." Eric said, holding her hand to stop him. He bit back the pain. Eric tried to take a deep breath, but every time he took a deep breath, the pain shot through his chest.
"...It's okay... I'm just... tired..." he said softly, forcing a smile.
"But—!"
"I'm... not okay... I just need... a little rest... I'll be up soon..." Eric said, his voice shaking. He lay sprawled on the metal floor, gasping for air, staring at the ceiling and the light above.
"...Castra, find a place to stay." We can get up now, and you should rest too…" he murmured softly. Castra sat down beside him. She held his hand tightly without saying anything. Eric just needed to relax more. With his current injuries, he might not make it to the medic or something. Or worse, he might get infected like Raoul. Eric hoped it wasn't the latter.
And damn, he felt cold now.
______________________________________________
Smoke still hung over the ruined buildings. Some fires were still barely extinguished, their orange glow reflecting off the shards of broken glass that littered the streets. This was just another district of Hive City, home to a relatively populated and industrial area. Now, it was all ruins and deserted. Most people had probably been taken by xenos, heretics, or evacuated.
A pair of footsteps could be heard faintly walking down the deserted streets. Sister Celianne walked cautiously, a bolter clutched to her chest, the other carrying a partially torn medicae bag. Beside her stood a young man in a PDF suit, some of his armor having been burned to the core. His name was Vann, and he held his lassgun wearily.
They were the only two survivors of the numerous attacks, attacks by heretics (Chaos Cultist and Night Lord), xenos (Drukhari), and mutants (Genesteler). At that moment, she hadn't even had a chance to put on her armor. Many of her siblings had been killed by heretics and xenos. Some were captured, brutally murdered, and tortured, even hung for public display and terror. Before their deaths, they were skinned, tortured, and desecrated. She could only watch with pity and despair, and all she could do was pray that their souls would be with the Emperor.
"It's quiet... It's like there's no one left."
Vann's voice trembled slightly. He scanned the path, filled with wreckage, broken Gothic buildings, and dried blood.
Celianne didn't answer immediately. She looked up at the dark sky, thick with smoke, making it almost impossible to see the stars. Then she spoke calmly:
"When it's quiet like this, sometimes... I can hear your voice more clearly."
"The voice of... the Emperor?" Vann asked.
"Yes," she replied. "But sometimes I'm afraid... what I'm hearing might not be your voice, but the echo of a wavering faith." She paused, looking at the broken statue of the Imperial Saint, cut by some living creature's claws. The Genestealer's claw-like marks were beside the wound, and there were burn marks resembling those of a chaos warp flame.
"I saw them with my own eyes, sister. Dark Eldar ripping people alive, cultists casting spells in the temple, and warriors in blue-black armor laughing among the corpses... It was so terrifying. I don't understand why there are so many enemies at once... Why the Emperor allowed this to happen..." Vann's voice trembled. He took a deep breath. Celianne finally turned to look at him. Her eyes were tired but not hopeless. She didn't see the young man in the way some extremists might see him as a heretic and question the Emperor. She saw him as just an ordinary, unfortunate young man.
"Because he's not a god who gives us what we want. He's a tester of our hearts, to see if we still believe... even when the whole world has fallen."
She bent down to touch the ground near the fresh blood and said softly. "Judging by the color... someone survived this way for less than an hour. We might not be the only ones left." Vann nodded. He looked back at her and asked hesitantly.
"Sister... do you still think there are people at St. Lucia Church?" Vann asked hesitantly. Celianne continued forward without stopping.
"I believe he will not abandon that place easily... and as long as the church stands, the faith will not be destroyed."
She lifted Rosarius up and kissed him gently. A faint golden light reflected on her soot-covered face.
"We will get there, soldier. And if there are any wounded or innocent people, I will heal them... no matter what color their blood is."
The sound of footsteps echoed through the deserted streets again.
They passed the corpses of Imperial soldiers, enemies, and something indistinguishable. Overhead, the distant sound of iron chains creaked like the laughter of a nightmare. But suddenly, she smelled something.
The smell of old blood mixed with the rotting odor of corpses filled the air. She thought she was getting used to it. The same smell on every Imperial battlefield. But this smell... was a little different. There was a sour, steely lingering scent on the tip of her nose, like a rotting body not too far away.
"Stop, Sister, this smell... "This isn't normal. It's more potent than normal corpses... Maybe it's an infection or a cultis," Vann's voice whispered softly behind her. She heard the safety release of his lasgun.
Celianne slowed her steps, cautiously following the source of the smell. The street was lit only by the light of a fire burning scrap metal by the side of the road. The light was enough to reveal the shadow of something. She moved the bolter into a firing position and subconsciously reached out to touch Rosarius' neck.
"I see it," she whispered. On the ground, against the open vents, were two figures.
One lay motionless. The other, a small girl, sat beside her, her hands trembling as she stared at the woman lying there.
The woman had a pale face and long, unwashed, white hair that was poorly maintained. She wore a black cloak, black trousers, and boots, as well as light bulletproof vests. She had a clear injury to her right arm, judging by the makeshift first aid kit. There were bloodstains on her shirt, and the smell became more pronounced as the wind blew.
The smell of disease... the smell of flesh touched by Nergle's blessing. Celianne heard Vann take a deep breath.
"Sister... They might be infected, or worse, they might be Chaos or Genestealers... We should leave them alone, or show them mercy," Vann said with concern. She stared at him quietly. The light reflected on his face, revealing the fear he was trying to swallow. He wasn't wrong to be afraid. Fear is normal for those who are still alive.
But for Celianne... fear was no excuse for turning away from someone who might still be breathing.
"Look at that child. She's shaking... but she's not running away. And that woman isn't unconscious. She still has a chance," Celianne said softly, her eyes never leaving the scene.
She saw the girl holding the hand of the sleeping woman, and she heard her comforting the child.
That wasn't the behavior of a cultist or a mutant. They were just two civilians in need of help.
"They might still be alive, and if there's really a Nurgle infection... His Majesty will be the judge, not us," she continued.
"But Sister! Would you risk them? If they rise up and attack us—" Vann looked up, his voice growing harsh.
"If I let the wounded die before my eyes, without intervening or offering them any mercy, how can I be a hospitalist, Private?" Celianne said in a calm but resolute tone. He fell silent. She knew he didn't have an answer.
She turned to look at the two figures again, then tightened her grip on the medicae bag.
"And watch my back, Private," Celianne said softly, starting to walk away from the rubble. The moment they saw her, they both became terrified and violent. The woman raised one arm, her lassgun pointing towards her. Before she could ask,
"Who are you? Tell me your purpose... or I'll shoot you," the woman asked in a weak, wary voice. Celianne tried to appear as friendly as possible before saying,
"Calm down. I'm Sister Celianne of the Ecclesiarchy... I'm here to help you, not harm you," she said in a gentle but reassuring tone. Suddenly, she noticed the woman relax and lower her gun before answering,
"Okay, sister," she said in a slightly weak voice. The girl nearby didn't seem to say anything, just a tired expression on her face. Celianne approached closer and knelt beside the woman, with Vann following closely behind cautiously. The rotting smell of blood on the woman's clothes was becoming more noticeable, but she tried to ignore it.
Celianne removed her armor and black cloak and threw them away. The woman was extremely embarrassed, so she didn't want to offend anyone. She simply lifted her undershirt to examine her for any signs of infection or blemishes that might be a sign of someone infected with a Nurgle disease. However, she found nothing, which was a good thing.
This woman's condition was relatively unremarkable. She only suffered internal bruising, broken ribs, a fractured upper right arm, and a blood infection. With her medical experience, she should recover soon without adequate treatment. She rummaged through her bag, pulled out a needle filled with antibiotic medication, and injected it into her upper arm. After everything was done, she thought she could continue on her way, but leaving her to recover until she could walk on her own would be a waste of time. So she made a decision.
______________________________________________
Eric felt a slight ache again, the cold metal from the needle he'd just inserted. It wasn't too painful, but his phobia of needles seemed to be acting up, but he still didn't dare show it.
It seemed like his lucky day. He made it upstairs, and a beautiful nun helped him. Even though he had to strip off his clothes for a checkup, it was incredibly embarrassing and embarrassing, as another soldier was watching from a distance.
The sound of a soldier's light footsteps approached. Then he saw Sister Celianne stand up to her full height, her body reflecting off the streetlights, giving off a faint aura. I don't know if it was the cold air or the fact that she was so close, but I felt my face start to heat up again.
"We're heading to a church, and I want you to come with me, but you can't walk right now," she said calmly, looking at Eric from head to toe as if assessing his condition. "If you leave me here, you're not going to make it," Eric chuckled dryly, even though his chest still ached.
"Don't worry... I've been through worse... You just need to rest—" Eric said, trying to show that he was self-sufficient. But before he could finish, Eric felt his body lift off the ground so quickly that the world spun around him.
"Hey, wait! Wh-what are you—!?" Eric's voice trailed off in shock—he was now in Sister Celianne's arms, fully in princess pose. Her arms were firmly under Eric's knees and back, carrying him so easily that he felt like he weighed nothing.
"You need to rest, and I can't leave you here," she replied briefly, more like an order than an explanation.
"But..." Eric tried to struggle, but he could barely move. The muscles on his side were stinging, causing him to gasp. "This, you don't have to be carried like this..."
"Quiet! If you fall again, I'm not sure I can give you first aid in time." Her voice wasn't harsh, but it was steady enough to silence me immediately.
Eric let out a long sigh, blushing even more. He tried to look away, but his gaze caught on her silver hair, which reflected the light. It was a stark contrast to the surroundings: the ruined city, the nuns carrying him like bouquets at a wedding... His back, waist, and left arm were still touching her abdomen. Even though the robe was covering her, Eric could clearly feel the muscles, which made him imagine something lewd.
"No..." Eric muttered under his breath. "This is so embarrassing..." He tried to tell himself that he couldn't think like that. Even though this was a bleak future, she was still a nun. Behind him, Vann suddenly spoke with an uncomfortable tone.
"Sister! That's too risky—we don't even know if they've been infected—!" Vann said loudly, his voice strained. Celianne didn't even turn around. She spoke calmly as she stepped forward.
"I've checked them—they're just civilians in need of help."
"But—!"
"That's an order," Sister's voice was cold, and even Vann was silent.
Eric, in her arms, could only swallow. His heart beat faster, both from embarrassment and from a strange, unfamiliar feeling in his body. It wasn't fear, but... a strange, uneasy feeling that was beginning to build.
Castra hurriedly followed behind, her hands clutching Eric's bag. Behind her was Eric's gun. Her eyes were still filled with worry, but when she saw me in Sister Celianne's arms, she seemed to feel a little relieved.
"Sister Erica... are you okay? Your face is starting to turn red. Are you okay?" she asked with concern. Eric smiled at her.
"Um... I just got carried away, that's all." It's no big deal…" Eric said with a slightly shy tone. Celianne glanced at me briefly, as if trying to hold back a smile.
"Don't talk too much. You should keep your voice down for when you have to pray to thank the Emperor," Celianne said softly.
He chuckled softly and unconsciously leaned his head against her shoulder. In the nun's arms, which were strangely strong and warm, Eric felt something strange, and then... he thought to himself,
Maybe when things calmed down, he'd go to church more often.
___________________________________________
(Even though he was in a woman's body, some of his behavior and personality had changed slightly, but his mind was still that of a man.)
Writer: Alright, finally, we've reached the part where Eric was twice as lucky. Even though the Upper Hive he was in and the surrounding area was deserted and there were almost no survivors after being attacked by the Night Lord, Drukhari, Chaos Cult, and Geenstealer Cult.