Heretics

"Welcome, Lady Natalie. May I have the honor of a dance?"

A noble dressed in blue and black bowed and extended his hand towards the girl.

It was the start of the banquet to welcome the return of Admiral Spire, the savior of the Gothic Sector. The banquet room was already packed with well-dressed elites exchanging courtesies and pleasantries with one another.

The Inquisitor herself had taken on the identity of a daughter of the noble Taranis House and was already making mental notes of suspicious individuals.

"It will be my pleasure."

She smiled and acquiesced to the request. Dancing was a form of entertainment said to have originated from Terra itself tens of millennia ago. Now, it was an activity the rich and powerful could indulge in.

And amongst them, a rogue heretic potentially lurked. Inquisition sources had confirmed that the individual would be attending the banquet tonight, but they were not high enough in the rogue organization to know the person's exact identity.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Natalie felt a squeeze on her buttock. The noble's mischievous hand was greedily playing with it as the other hand held hers, moving in rhythm with the dance.

"I heard that the bathhouse of the House of Griffith is unmatched in its splendor in all of Nasrine. If only I could get a chance to use it…" she shyly spoke.

"Easily remedied," the noble in front of her laughed. "I happen to be in quite a good mood and do not mind opening the facility for us."

Natalie expressed her elation and continued to play the role of a fawning maiden as she danced with the young man.

The evening continued as Natalie participated in dance after dance, intentionally choosing members of interest. The Inquisition had its sources, but they weren't always reliable; sometimes the best way to confirm something was to do it yourself rather than rely on others.

Bewitching lustful nobles was a skill she had perfected over the years, and she had relied on it many times to uncover heretical circles and bring the Emperor's fire upon them.

The Emperor had blessed her with good looks, and she would use them in His name for His purpose and glory.

"And now, let us raise a toast to Admiral Spire, the star of tonight's banquet!"

Natalie's gaze turned towards the center of the room, where a smartly dressed individual stood, the governor by his side.

She studied the man intently, recalling what she knew.

Admiral Spire: born on an Imperium world that rebelled; savior of the Gothic Sector and key player in stopping the 12th Black Crusade. His exploits in the Battle of Gethsemane and the Battle of Schindlegeist were legendary.

"Well, I did not expect him to be that kind of person as well…" she noticed that the instant Spire's gaze fell on her, he was already looking at her chest.

That made things easier, as one of her roles was also to test Spire's faith.

Once it was confirmed, the Segmentum Obscurus command would likely redeploy him to the Cadia Sector. The man had been missing for 800 years, after all—who knew what had happened during that time.

Just as the man was about to give his speech, the echoes of explosions could be heard from outside.

The Inquisitor's eyebrows creased together.

"Heretics!"

===

It was supposed to be a simple speech.

And it was to mark the return of his life to a simple one.

After a few days, Spire had decided.

The Imperium was not worth saving.

The headache of managing trillions upon trillions of souls, and taking responsibility for them, was just overwhelming.

He was, after all, just a simple high school boy who had briefly possessed the God Emperor's powers and body before finding himself stuck in the body of Admiral Spire.

This world was simply a nightmare for 99.999999999% of humanity.

Orks, Tyranids, Tau, Aeldari, Necrons, Chaos, etc…

There were so many threats to deal with.

He was just going to enjoy his life as much as he could. Having come from a simple family, he had not enjoyed the luxuries of life in his previous world.

Now, he was going to do it to the fullest.

Of course, he would do the bare minimum, like powering the Astronomican and the Golden Throne, but the Imperium would be foolish to expect him to protect them…

… it was simply too disappointing to see the current state of affairs.

But things that can go wrong often go wrong.

"Evacuate at once! Heretic forces discovered in Sector C-3 and C-5, they are closing in fast!"

The guards in the room were shouting orders.

"..."

Spire stared wordlessly at the scenes unfolding before him.

"Why is it that hard to live a peaceful life?"

Another explosion sounded; this time the blast ripped through one of the double doors, flesh and blood sent flying as a group of humans dressed in grey robes and hoods stood atop a pile of dead nobles.

The screams and yells intensified further.

The surrounding guards charged at the intruders. But as soon as they approached, their bodies twisted oddly and exploded into bits.

"Oh?"

With the help of the Emperor's memories, Spire recognized the intruders instantly as psykers. There was no other explanation for the strange phenomenon before him.

"Spire… like a fresh lamb to the slaughter. Our agents are even better than expected. To think the information was so accurate. Kuku." The human in the middle pulled down his hood, revealing a grotesque face marred by scars and traces of chaos corruption.

"Perish, heretics!"

A voice interrupted the moment, as Spire saw one of the noblewomen spring into action, her bolt pistol already firing away at the intruders.

The mark of the Inquistional Rosette on the pistol gave away her identity at once,

"Damn inquisitor. Tch! Finish Spire! The Warmaster wants him dead! He has no psychic powers. Do it!" The leader of the intruders spoke. The whole group charged forward at him, uncaring for their lives.

"I won't let you!"

The female noble stepped between the assault, firing away as if her life depended on it.

'So they are trying to get in range of me, huh? Let's see what they can do.'

Spire did not move but looked on in amusement at the struggle as, despite the valiant efforts of the female noble to stop them, a few slipped through.

"DIE!"

The psykers let out a blood-curdling cry as their eyes glowed with green, their hands raised as they attempted to utilize their psychic powers to turn the being before them into a pile of meat.

…

"Is that it?"

Spire did not even feel anything.

"N-No way!"

"Isn't he just an ordinary human?"

The psykers appeared stunned that their powers did not work.

"Well, Abaddon is a Failbaddon, and your Chaos Gods are just pussies." Spire took a step forward. "It's my turn now."