4: A Nice Old Man

As Sabine slept, her soul was called to a distant bonfire of psychic light. She settled under the psychic aegis and visions began to flash through her dreams. Though she was not aware, Sabine was blessed with the Emperor's gift of foresight for a short while. She slept steadily as His holy knowledge was imparted onto her feeble mortal mind.

In the waking world, Sabine's face scrunched up with worry. In her dreams, she was falling through seemingly endless darkness. She looked around, confused and uncertain about what was going on. The dream felt scarily vivid. She could feel the air rushing against her face. She could feel the weight of her power armor. She could feel the white-knuckled grip she held her bolter with.

The version of Sabine in her vision looked around desperately like she was looking for something in specific. The darkness around her didn't give an inch. Above her, she could see a fading light from which she was falling away. Then out of the gloom came glorious salvation.

Sabine instantly recognized Octus Humblestock. He was falling next to her and she did her best to maneuver herself toward him as they fell. He seemed like he was unconscious or otherwise distracted. She reached out to him for what felt like an eternity. He stirred as if he could feel her soul calling out to his with all her being. His hand stretched to meet hers and Sabine latched onto him like he was a light in the darkness. She clutched him to her chest and the scene shifted.

Sabine found herself fighting. The scene was so familiar that she almost sighed until she realized who was fighting by her side. Bolter fire roared and the crack of a lasgun split the air. And right beside her, Octus stood strong and determined. His face was set in a stony grimace and Sabine thought no one would ever be as attractive as he was right now.

The scene shifted again and Sabine realized she was holding her breath so she was not found. Octus did the same next to her. They hid in the rafters of a dimly lit yet expansive room. Below them, heretics roamed to and fro. They milled about, waiting for the moment they could do their dark masters' bidding.

Lines of blood spread across the floor of the room like a complex spiderweb. Cultists kneeled in the center of the room, spilling their blood to feed the symbol carved into the floor. Purple and blue and green and red flames flickered atop pedestals throughout the room.

Sabine could feel a flame burning inside her as well. One of contempt and utter hatred. One of righteous indignation and refusal to go along with whatever the Great Enemy had planned for them. She saw the same emotions burning in Octus' eyes. Gone was the carefree, simple man she'd come to admire and care for. A servant of the Emperor, one of His blessed children, stood in his place. They both knew this scene wasn't right. It was an affront to the galaxy and Humanity and they had to do something…

The scene changed again. Sabine found herself looking into the eyes of a being composed of pure malice and bloodthirsty rage. Its red skin crackled with flames. Blood dripped from a mouth that stretched into a cruel smile. Its blade cried out for blood, screamed for her soul.

The thing charged her, snarling and shrieking like everything unholy in the world, and Sabine felt herself falling backward. The last thing she saw before everything went dark was Octus' grim face and an apologetic smile. But the vision didn't cut off there. She couldn't see anything but she could feel the emotions that her counterpart was experiencing.

Rage and hurt consumed her. Sabine felt a heartbroken wail tear its way out of her throat. All she knew at that moment was grief and despair. Then her suffering turned into fury and madness. She could feel her body moving in the vision even though she couldn't see anything. She heard the familiar revving of her chainsword as it bit and tore through flesh.

Tears streamed down Sabine's face as the emotions from the vision twisted her heart into a pretzel. And yet before she could wake up, the vision changed one last time. Sabine found herself sitting in a chair, rocking back and forth while looking out over a field of gold.

The wind tickled her face. The smell of hard work and contentment filled her nostrils. The taste of someone else, someone near and dear to her heart, lingered on her lips. Sabine had never felt so at peace.

It was as if she didn't have a worry in the world. The world would keep turning and Sabine would just lay back and watch. No more war. No more death or killing. No more mourning or loss or grief.

She felt a hand in hers and looked to her left. A tranquil and content smile greeted her. Even after all these years, Octus' smile never failed to send Sabine's stomach into butterflies. She matched his smile, taking pleasure in the fact that she could do the same thing to him.

Retirement had been kind to both of them. They'd returned to Octus' homeworld and now spent their days watching over a farm and enjoying each other's company. Sabine had gotten to meet Octus' parents and she finally felt like she was a part of a family.

She'd introduced Octus to her venerable parents before they'd left His service but that hadn't ended well. They were typical Hive nobles and couldn't see what Sabine saw in Octus. But Sabine found she didn't mind. She'd never been all that close to them. Most of her childhood had been spent in the Schola and the Sisters she'd made there were more of a family to her than her birth parents. She still respected them but they would never have the perspective to fully appreciate her Octus.

Two pint-sized figures ran up to her, laughing as they played together. Sabine could recognize herself in the children. They had her pale eyes and facial structure. 'But… who was the father?' asked the version of Sabine watching the vision. They looked so familiar that her heart ached when she looked at them. And yet something blocked her from piecing together the identity of the man she'd ended up with in the vision. Even with Octus sitting right next to her, holding her hand, Sabine's dreaming mind couldn't connect the dots. W-Who?…

Sabine gasped as she was wrenched back into the waking world. Her eyes shot open and she was instantly on edge, prepared to leap into action. Then she processed the sight right before her eyes and all the tension drained out of her body. Octus stood over her, smiling softly down at her with his hand on her shoulder. Even under her power armor, Sabine could have sworn she could feel the warmth he exuded.

"Back with us, Sabine?" Octus asked fondly, sending Sabine's mind back to her last vision.

Sabine stared at him with an intensity that would burn lesser men. She didn't mean to but her dreams had her feeling… off. And still, Octus didn't quail under her fiery gaze. It rolled off him like water and he just kept smiling at her.

Sabine eventually managed to snap herself out of her daze and said, "… Yes. Thank you for waking me, Octus Humblestock. Has our guest arrived?"

Octus nodded, "Yup. Lady is keeping 'em company at the moment."

There was a moment of silence as Sabine was hypnotized by the way Octus' lips moved.

She snapped out of it and cleared her throat, "Ahem… I see… Shall we join them?"

"After you, Sister Sabine."

Octus helped her up and directed them off the tank. Sabine stuck the more than 10-foot drop with barely bent knees. From there, Octus led her into the throng of Guardsmen. The crowd parted for them readily until they got to a platoon that was arranged in a loose circle. Octus and Sabine nudged past them to join Lady and Lacey in the center.

A cloaked figure kneeled between the Commissar and Guardswoman. They wore loose-fitting robes and a deep hood hid their face. The robes were unadorned and plain but Sabine knew a cultist when she saw one. She could practically feel the unholy faith pouring off of the figure from here.

Lady nodded to them, "Sister, so nice of you to join us. I figured you would want us to wait for you to start."

Sabine saw a certain light in the Commissar's eyes and realized that she was just as important to the regiment's morale right now as Lady was. A Sister of Battle stood for something after all. They stood for faith and fervor and enough zeal to win any battle. Even now, Lady was putting on a performance for her troops.

Sabine turned her eyes to the kneeling figure and glared, "Yes, thank you, Commissar Lady. I would have hated to miss an enemy of the Emperor getting what was coming to them. Shall we make this mindless beast squeal?"

A cheer went up from the soldiers circling them and the additional Guardsmen who were peeking into the circle to watch what was happening. The kneeling figure didn't seem to react at all to the men and women braying for their blood.

"Would you like to do the honors, Sister?" Lady asked.

Sabine nodded, getting small, grim smiles from Lady and Octus. Lacey's expression stayed the same as if it was made of stone. Sabine walked up to the kneeling figure and tore the hood off.

She immediately hissed at what she had revealed and she wasn't the only one who made a sound of disgust. The star of Chaos was burned into the center of the man's forehead, still glowing as if it were fresh. If there was any doubt that this person was a cultist, that mutilation removed it.

The cultist's skin was gray and cracked unnaturally. His eyes were closed and the bottom half of his face was covered by an elaborate gas mask that seemed to be welded to his skin. He was disturbingly calm, almost as if he was already dead.

"What have you to say for yourself, traitor," Sabine hissed, raising her bolter and pressing the muzzle directly over the branded star.

The cultist calmly opened his eyes. They glowed the same molten orange as his brand. Sabine heard gasps and the readying of weapons from the troops that circled them. Thankfully, Octus, Lady, and Lacey didn't give the poor excuse of a Human the satisfaction of making a sound. Sabine fortified herself against any influence from the Ruinous Powers. The cultist's eyes crinkled like he was smiling. Sabine just growled and pressed the business end of her bolter deeper into his forehead.

His voice came out garbled and distorted by the gas mask, "Ah, a Sororitas… How fortuitous. My masters must be looking down on me with their endless mercy…"

"Your masters," Sabine spat. "Hold no power here. You will answer my questions or I will start taking your limbs. Slowly…"

The cultist's chuckle sounded disturbingly genial and grandfatherly, "Of course, how rude of me. I wouldn't want to be uncooperative~"

Sabine narrowed her eyes and glanced at Lady. The Commissar nodded, giving her permission to take any action she deemed necessary. Abruptly, the bolter was pulled off of the cultist's head and an explosive bolt was loosed into the ground behind him. Shrapnel and heat speared into the cultist's back and still, he did not flinch.

She pressed the still-smoking barrel back into the cultist's brand, "What can you tell me about the uprising in this Hive?"

The cultist's eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke and Sabine's willpower slammed down to squash any mental intrusions. Surprisingly, there were none to be found.

"Ah, yes, another bit of good fortune if you would believe it. You have to understand, we were not quite ready to make our move. Some of the planet's disgruntled nobles are responsible for the rebellion. We simply took advantage of the Chaos," the cultist laughed. "Truly, it could only be the work of Tzee-"

Sabine's bolter barked again, shutting up the cultist, "Do not say that name in my presence, heretic!"

"Very well, very well," the cultist chuckled. "I see you've not yet reached the climax of the Great Architect's scheme for you."

She could feel Octus bristling on her behalf and he butted into her interrogation, "I don't think I like yer tone, pal. Now, ya been shockingly polite but ya don't get to go throwing around accusations like that."

Sabine could hear Lady facepalming behind her, "Octus… Please don't compliment the heretics…"

The cultist turned his attention to Octus and his eyes went wide, "You… I cannot see you… And yet here you are… How curious… I am the Witness. May I know your name, young one?"

"Don't answer that," Sabine interrupted before the usually adorably naive Octus could do something dangerously stupid. "Now, heretic, I believe we were having a conversation…"

"My apologies. Ask away."

Octus was right about one thing. The cultist was shockingly polite. It was disturbing. For the first time in her life, Sabine found herself suppressing a shudder in the face of heresy. She knew the depths of depravity that hid behind that kind, grandfatherly demeanor.

"What's your role in all of this?" Sabine pressed.

The cultist nodded, "As I said, I am the Witness. It is my duty to document and see what others do not. My role is as simple as that. You could say I'm almost impartial. I do not care who wins or loses in this little struggle. I am just here to observe. And even if you kill me, nothing will change. My masters will simply choose another to take my place."

"I find that a little hard to believe," Lady said. "You don't have any stake in who comes out on top? Even when one side — ours — will definitely kill you?"

The Witness shook his head, "It is not my place to worry about such things, Madam. If my masters' other servants succeed in their goal, I will die anyway. But no matter what happens, I will do my task. I will Witness."

"And what do the other heretics have planned?" Sabine asked, zeroing in on one of the Witness' sentences.

Sabine hated how amused the Witness sounded as he replied, "Oh, some tasteful sacrifices here… A few opportunistic assassinations there… A ritual, perhaps?"

"Got it," Lady groaned. "Just the essentials, right?"

"Indeed, Madam. The fun has only just begun," The Witness laughed.

Lacey's soft voice cut through the ensuing tense silence, "Why are you telling us this?"

Even though his mouth was covered by a gas mask, everyone could tell the Witness was smirking, "To make things more interesting, of course. I wouldn't want to Witness anything as dull and tedious as the usual uprising. This is the last Hive that holds out. It's only right that I make things more interesting for me and my patrons. I'm sure both you and the Maestro will appreciate my efforts by the end of all this."

"Maestro? What's that mean?" Octus asked quietly.

The Witness still heard him, "Ah, I'm glad you asked, young one! The Maestro is the one who is pulling the strings here. Well, the mortal anyway. They have their role just as I have mine, though they are admittedly less impartial than I."

Sabine made a note of that. A Witness and now a Maestro. It seemed that the Ruinous Powers wanted to put on a show for them. May the Emperor protect them, for they were already within the crosshairs of cruel, laughing gods.

It also helped explain to her why the Witness was being so forthcoming with them. The Ruinous Powers wanted them to know about what was going on. They were playing right into Chaos' hands and there was nothing they could do about it.

An iron will rose within Sabine as she glanced at Octus and her new friends. Let the heretics and heathens come. She would be ready.

Sabine pulled back and put on a show of checking her bolter, ignoring how the Witness seemed to smile at her, "Tell me, heretic, what do you think will happen now? Do you think we will send you back to your fellows? Do you think you will continue to — as you put it — Witness?"

"I think…" the Witness said. "That it won't matter what I think in a moment…"

As he said that, cries of alarm went up from the edges of the regiment's temporary camp. Sabine growled, keeping her eyes locked on the Witness even as the sounds of an ambush kicked up around her. Her bolter was already raised and aimed at the cultist's head. The circle of soldiers around them quickly dissolved into semi-organized chaos as everyone fell over themselves to respond to the sudden attack.

"It's been a pleasure, Madam Sister," the Witness said casually as if he was in no danger. "Give my regards to the young one, will you?"

His words lit a small spark of panic in Sabine's disciplined heart. Her head whipped around, trying to locate Octus. Her search became frantic when she didn't immediately find Lady, Lacey, or him directly by her side. Lasgun bolts and solid slugs ripped through the air around her, making Sabine's search more difficult. A deeply ingrained instinct made Sabine dive and roll just as a burst from a Heavy Stubber tore into the ground where she was just standing.

When she came back to her feet and looked back toward the Witness, he was gone without a trace. Like dust in the wind. Sabine cursed but there was something more important on her mind at the moment. She had to find Octus.

Her bolter barked, booming over the din of battle. Guardsmen scrambled for the cover offered by the vehicles. From there, they took up position and began laying into the ambushing enemy. Within the walls around the regiment's camp, the weapons of entrenched rebels spat back at them.

The traitors were smart enough to choose high perches, as well as low, in the pockmarked walls of the Hive City's thoroughfare. It was like the walls had come to life to spit hot lead into the densely packed regiment of Guardsmen. The regiment's vehicles were being slowly brought into the fray but they weren't as effective as the Guardsmen would've wished for various reasons. As they were being used as cover, the vehicles couldn't be moved much and the high perches of their enemy meant that the main turrets of the tanks didn't have enough range of motion to target them.

Sabine roared a classic battle cry as she leaped into action, "For the Emperor!"

The Guardsmen who were quickly finding themselves pinned down by the weight of heretic fire heard her cry. Their voices joined hers in faith and fury. Sabine's bolter spewed explosive rounds that sent hidden heretics scrambling for cover. Seeing the effect that a weapon of the Emperor's divine wrath had on the traitors, the regiment's return fire resumed and redoubled.

Even as she laid a holy barrage into the enemy, Sabine was searching. She needed to find Octus, to make sure he was safe, to make sure he survived. And though she had faith in him, she quickly became desperate. Explosions and gunfire faded into the background of her mind as she wildly scanned the battlefield for a hint of his silvery hair, his blue eyes, anything…

Legends would be made that day. Legends of a love-struck Sister descending into a berserker rage in search of the one she loved and obsessed over. As Sabine rampaged through the battlefield, traitors and loyalists alike stopped to watch her bloody and desperate tear. Enough people had seen the way Sabine treated Octus before the ambush. Their tales would add to the legends. The report of a respected Commissar would help spread the legends as well. Completely unintentionally, Sabine would go on to inspire generations of romantic Sisters as they told her story in their Schola bunks. And like all the best stories, this one would have a happy ending… eventually…