Elias is summoned for an official debrief of the Tarsis Theta incident. But the scribe who takes his testimony already knows what he's supposed to say. The truth isn't just dangerous — it's been pre-written. Elias begins to understand that survival in the Imperium isn't about obedience… it's about knowing which lies to tell.
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The interrogation chamber was smaller than Elias expected.
Not cold.
Not dark.
Just… beige.
A simple desk. Two chairs. No purity seals. No skulls. Just a dataslate, an ink quill, and a man in a gray robe that didn't quite fit his frame.
He looked like an overworked clerk, not an interrogator.
He didn't look up as Elias entered.
"Name," the scribe muttered, tapping the slate.
"Elias Mercer."
"No known origin."
"No."
"Came into service under Commissar Vael?"
Elias nodded. "Correct."
The man finally looked up. His eyes were pale and watery, like old milk. His expression was one of polite indifference — the kind of face used by people who've already decided not to care.
He didn't ask Elias to sit.
Just said:
"Tell me what happened in Tarsis Theta."
Elias sat anyway.
He folded his hands.
Thought for a second.
Then said:
"Flamer team lost control of a cleansing operation. The fuel ignited the lower chapel. Containment breach. Vault collapse."
The scribe raised an eyebrow.
"And Father Serek?"
"Burned in the collapse."
"Of course."
The scribe made no move to confirm or deny. He just tapped a few lines into the slate and continued.
"Were any structural anomalies noted before the event?"
"Yes."
"Warp-taint?"
"No confirmation."
"Psyker presence?"
Elias paused.
Then said:
"No confirmation."
The scribe didn't react.
He tapped again.
There was a long silence.
Then he said:
"You're being transferred."
"Where?"
The scribe didn't answer directly.
Just turned the slate toward Elias.
The screen displayed a single line of orders:
"Reassigned to Recon Group IX / Operative Black File / Clearance 03-Abyss."
Beneath it: Commissar Vael's seal.
And underneath that: a smaller symbol.
Not Ecclesiarchy.
Not Militarum.
Inquisition-adjacent.
Unofficial.
The scribe cleared his throat.
"You'll be briefed en route. If asked, this meeting never happened. You spoke to no one. You filled out no forms."
"I didn't."
"Good."
He closed the dataslate with a soft click.
"You're not being rewarded, Mercer. Just… used differently."
He stood, walked to the door, and opened it.
Elias rose, walked past him—
Then paused.
Turned back.
One question.
"Did anyone report Father Serek as a psyker?"
The scribe smiled.
A tight, bloodless thing.
"There is no record of Father Serek."
Elias left.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And somewhere in the depths of his spine, the System buzzed faintly — not with energy, but with awareness.
[Silence Recorded.]
Outside the interrogation block, Fira waited by the transit lift.
She didn't say anything at first.
Just looked at him.
Then said:
"They didn't shoot you. That's something."
He gave a small nod.
"They reassigned me."
"To where?"
"Some place worse."
Fira raised her brow. "That narrows it down."
He handed her a sealed copy of the reassignment notice.
She read it, then let out a soft whistle.
"Black File."
"Yeah."
"You say yes?"
"They didn't give me a no."
They walked a while in silence, the lift rattling down into the transport hangars.
Fira finally broke it.
"That priest. The things he did. That shrine… It wasn't just Chaos, was it?"
Elias didn't answer.
But she read it on his face anyway.
Fira nodded slowly.
Then reached into her coat and pulled out a small, cloth-wrapped bundle.
She pressed it into his hand.
"What is it?"
"A blank journal. Paper. No data. No uplink."
He opened it. The pages were crisp.
"Write it down," she said. "Even if you can't say it out loud. You're in something now. Something bigger."
She turned to leave.
Then stopped.
"And something hungry."
Elias looked down at the journal.
Then tucked it inside his coat, close to the System's hidden hum.
Not as a weapon.
But as a reminder.
[END OF PART 1]