Ordo Malleus

*Joe will be called as Kayvaan from this point to avoid confusion

Kayvaan's mind churned as he listened. Memories of the Raven Guard surged within him—images of their incredible power, their legendary victories, their ability to endure trials no one else could. To him, there was nothing in the galaxy capable of withstanding the Raven Guard's onslaught. Their motto, Victorus aut Mortis—Victory or Death—wasn't just words; it was a declaration of their unyielding spirit.

The founder of the Raven Guard, Corvus Corax, was a larger-than-life figure to Kayvaan. Noble, righteous, and brilliant—every accolade Kayvaan could think of fit Corax. Kayvaan respected him only second to the Holy Emperor. But now, hearing Elizabeth's words, doubt crept in. Could it be true? Could the legendary Raven Guard really have fallen?

One percent. That number lingered like a shadow in Kayvaan's mind. It wasn't just daunting—it was horrifying. Such a slim success rate meant it was nearly impossible for the Raven Guard to replenish their forces. Wars bring inevitable losses, and when replacements can't keep up with casualties, extinction becomes a certainty.

And to make it worse, Corvus himself was missing, lost in the darkness of the galaxy. Kayvaan lowered his head and sank into the chair, feeling a weight in his chest.

Elizabeth noticed his reaction, a trace of satisfaction flickering in her eyes. Sensing the opportunity, she pressed on, her tone sharp and unforgiving. "If it weren't for your past achievements, this trial wouldn't have stopped at words. The Inquisition has methods far worse than this—methods you wouldn't want to experience. Cruelty beyond imagination. So I suggest you cooperate. Otherwise, we might determine you've been corrupted by Chaos. And you know what happens then."

Kayvaan glanced up at her, his voice flat. "Purification?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, her voice chillingly calm. "You'd be burned to ashes. And don't think it takes much to reach that conclusion. If I believe you've been tainted, then you're tainted. I only need a plausible excuse. For instance, your face—it's clearly not what it used to be. Obviously, you've been cursed."

Kayvaan touched his face, his tone laced with dry humor and doubt. "It's true my face didn't look like this before. My skin used to be darker, rougher. Now it's pale and smooth, but who could blame me? It's been nine thousand years since I've seen the sun."

Elizabeth's lips curled into a sneer. She studied his expression closely, searching for fear, panic, or something to confirm her accusations. But she found none. Instead, Kayvaan's demeanor was calm—resigned, even—though there was an undeniable heaviness in his eyes.

Elizabeth frowned slightly, then adjusted her approach. After a pause, her voice softened, though her words remained calculated. "You should know that your behavior earlier was reckless. Whistling at me during a trial? That was a poor decision. People being judged usually have the sense to show their judges some respect."

She leaned closer, her tone hardening again. "And don't forget, Slaanesh thrives on indulgence and pleasure. Your flippant attitude could easily be interpreted as evidence of corruption. I'll be documenting your behavior in detail, and let's just say it could heavily influence the outcome of this trial."

Kayvaan stared at her, incredulous. "You're telling me I might get burned to death because I whistled? And because my face is whiter now?"

Elizabeth's reply was cold and serious. "It's entirely possible. I come from the Ordo Malleus, and I have the authority to decide these matters."

Kayvaan slumped back in his chair, exasperated. The absurdity of the situation left him momentarily speechless. He knew he had no choice but to play along—for now. Pride and honor could only carry a man so far when faced with the cold reality of the Inquisition.

Kayvaan's thoughts drifted to his mentor, Kayvaan. They'd been through nine thousand years together, and Kayvaan knew Kayvaan's unyielding devotion to honor. For Kayvaan, honor is my life wasn't just a motto—it was the very core of his being. Kayvaan respected him deeply for that, but he couldn't share the same unflinching commitment.

To Kayvaan, honor was important, but survival mattered more. Dying for a slogan or an "iron plate," as he often put it, seemed pointless. It was a dangerous mindset in this era, where strict adherence to honor and loyalty to the Emperor were non-negotiable.

He sighed inwardly. If the Inquisition saw him as too "flexible," it could isolate him from the Imperium's power structures. Worse, it could cast doubt on his loyalty—a suspicion that would almost certainly lead to his execution.

The focus of the investigation team wasn't whether Kayvaan was suspected of betraying the Emperor. That idea was absurd, and even the two judges from the Ordo Hereticus on the team saw no reason to question it. A hero from a legendary era, awakened after millennia, turning against the Emperor? It was an unnecessary line of inquiry. The judges understood this well.

However, loyalty to the Emperor and devotion to Him as a divine figure were different things entirely. Many Space Marine chapters held steadfast loyalty to the Emperor but stopped short of religious fervor. The judges, aware of these historical and cultural nuances, didn't question Kayvaan's loyalty or performance. The harsh words and pointed questions hurled during the interrogation had a different purpose—they were driven by Judge Elizabeth's instructions.

"The more cunning a daemon is, the weaker it tends to be," Elizabeth had explained earlier. "Cunning makes them clever, but cleverness often masks fear. And fear is a sign of weakness. This is especially true for daemons of Slaanesh. Their very essence is rooted in indulgence and decadence. When those wretched beings find themselves facing humanity's strength, they falter—especially against someone like me, a judge of the Ordo Malleus. When their cover is blown, fear takes over, and their flaws are exposed. I need you to strike at him with your words, tear apart his defenses, and push him to fear and anger. That's when I'll make my judgment."

One of the Ordo Hereticus judges had raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "So, you're assuming our hero is corrupted by Chaos?"

"Not assuming—speculating," Elizabeth corrected. "I work with the assumption that he is compromised, that he is an enemy in disguise. My methods will expose the truth, one way or another. If he's innocent, he will prove it through his responses. It's a fair process. This isn't just my way—it's the way of the Ordo Malleus."

"Sounds more like a 'guilty until proven innocent' approach," the judge replied, visibly uncomfortable. The Ordo Hereticus and Ordo Malleus may both have been arms of Imperial justice, but their methods couldn't have been more different.

"Call it what you like," Elizabeth said coldly. "I'd rather err on the side of caution and kill millions by mistake than let one corrupted soul walk free."

Before meeting Kayvaan, Elizabeth and the team painstakingly planned the interrogation. Elizabeth, observing him through a one-way reflective window, watched his every move, every expression. She had expected a straightforward process—Space Marines weren't known for subtlety. Kayvaan was supposed to be an overconfident warrior, all strength and no finesse. But the man in the room shattered those expectations.