Lilith's mind was in complete chaos.

  What do I do? What do I SAY?

  A Space Marine. A literal Space Marine was sitting three feet away from her, waiting for answers.

  She could lie. Stick to the amnesia story. Play the innocent victim.

  But something in Brother Ha'ken's glowing red eyes—something patient, something genuinely concerned—made her hesitate.

  The Salamanders are supposed to be different. Supposed to care about people. About protecting innocents.

  But this was Warhammer 40k. Nothing was ever that simple.

  If I lie and he finds out... If I tell the truth and he decides we're too dangerous...

  Her thoughts spiraled, each possibility worse than the last.

  Brother Ha'ken seemed to sense her turmoil. He leaned back slightly, making his massive form seem less imposing.

  "I am Brother Ha'ken of the Salamanders Third Company," he said again, his deep voice gentle despite its power. "I have fought across a hundred worlds. I have seen horrors beyond mortal comprehension. And I have learned that truth, however painful, is always preferable to deception."

  He gestured at Lilith with one massive gauntleted hand.

  "You have woken from a fever that should have killed you. You were wreathed in flames that defy all understanding. Your sister—" he glanced at Eve, "—displays the eyes of Nocturne's sons, yet claims no memory of our world."

  His gaze returned to Lilith.

  "Something extraordinary has happened here. I would know what it is."

  He paused, then asked the same question he'd posed to Eve: "Do you remember Nocturne, child? The volcanic plains? The radiation that marks our people?"

  Lilith shook her head, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.

  He thinks we might be from Nocturne. That our eyes mean we're related to the Salamanders somehow.

  The gene-seed. It must be Salamander gene-seed they used on us. That's why our eyes...

  But she was still doubtful. Experimental gene-seed could have come from anywhere, been modified in any number of ways.

  Brother Ha'ken's expression grew thoughtful at her denial. "No memories at all?"

  "No."

  Lilith took a shaky breath, her mind made up.

  I have to tell him. Not everything. But enough. Enough that he understands we're not a threat.

  But first—

  "Lord Astartes," she said, her voice hoarse but determined. "Before I tell you anything... you have to promise me something."

  Brother Ha'ken tilted his head slightly. "What would you ask of me?"

  "Promise you won't hurt Eve." The words came out fierce despite her weakness. "Whatever I tell you, whatever you decide about me—promise you won't hurt her. She didn't do anything wrong. She was just trying to survive."

  Eve turned to her sharply, red eyes wide with alarm. "Lilith—"

  Lilith squeezed her hand, cutting her off. "It's okay," she said softly, though she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince Eve or herself.

  Brother Ha'ken was silent for a long moment, studying them both.

  Then he placed one massive gauntleted hand over his chest, over the green ceramite where his primary heart beat.

  "I swear by Vulkan's name and the fires of Nocturne—I will not harm the child Eve unless she proves herself to be an enemy of humanity. You have my word as a Salamander."

  The formality of it, the weight in his voice, made it clear this wasn't an empty promise.

  Lilith nodded, relief and terror warring in her chest.

  Here goes nothing.

  "We weren't born," she said quietly. "Not naturally. We were... grown. In vats. On a ship belonging to a Magos of the Adeptus Mechanicus."

  Brother Ha'ken went very still.

  "We were experiments," Lilith continued, forcing the words out. "Weapons. That's what he called us. Project Alpha Plus and Project Omega Minus."

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

  Not literally—but the shift in Brother Ha'ken's demeanor was palpable. The gentle curiosity was still there, but beneath it, something else stirred. Something volcanic and dangerous.

  Righteous fury.

  "A Magos," he said, his voice carefully controlled, "created you. As weapons."

  "Yes."

  "From what materials?"

  Lilith swallowed. "I don't know all the details. I only saw fragments of the records. But... gene-seed was involved. Experimental variants. They implanted me with something meant to enhance psyker abilities. Eve received something different—pariah gene, meant to make her a Blank."

  She could see Brother Ha'ken's hands clench slightly, the servos in his gauntlets whining softly.

  "Gene-seed," he repeated, and there was an edge to his voice now. "Sacred genetic material, entrusted to the Adeptus Astartes by the Emperor Himself. And a Magos experimented on it. Used it to create child soldiers."

  "We were failures," Lilith said quickly. "Both of us. Our genes didn't manifest properly. I couldn't access my psyker abilities. Eve's Blank nature was too weak to be useful. That's what the records said. We were deemed non-viable."

  Should I say everything? I wonder if I’m doing the right choice now...

  Brother Ha'ken's expression had turned grim, his glowing eyes hard as embers.

  "The Mechanicus," he said slowly, each word weighted with barely contained anger, "has always pushed the boundaries of what is permissible in pursuit of knowledge. But to corrupt gene-seed in this manner... to experiment on children..."

  He stood abruptly, his massive form radiating tension.

  For a moment, Lilith thought he might actually punch the wall.

  But he took a deep breath—surprisingly human for something that seemed so far beyond human—and sat back down.

  "Continue," he said, his voice tight. "What happened to this Magos?"

  Lilith's throat went dry. This was the dangerous part. But it was all or nothing. She decided to trust him.

  "We escaped," she said carefully. "Eve and I. When the Magos decided to... dispose of me. Eve fought back. Killed the servitors. Killed the Magos."

  She paused, then forced herself to continue.

  "But before that happened, I... I woke up. Fully. And something went wrong."

  "Wrong how?"

  Lilith's hand went unconsciously to her left eye—the blind one, the gold one.

  "I awakened," she whispered. "As a psyker. The gene-seed activation triggered. And I lost control."

  Brother Ha'ken leaned forward, his full attention locked on her.

  "I opened something," Lilith continued, her voice shaking now. "A door. A connection to the Warp. And everyone on the ship... they died. Their bodies twisted. Corrupted. I killed them all without meaning to. I was burning alive from the inside and I couldn't stop it."

  Stolen story; please report.

  Eve's grip on her hand tightened painfully, but Lilith didn't pull away.

  "Eve touched me," Lilith said. "And when she did, it stopped. The connection severed. The Warp released its hold. She saved me."

  She looked up at Brother Ha'ken, tears beginning to well in her right eye.

  "That's the truth. We're not from Nocturne. We're not daughters of your world. We're just... accidents. Mistakes. Genetic mutations created by someone who wanted to make weapons and failed."

  She took a shuddering breath.

  "I'm sorry if you thought we were somehow related to the Salamanders. All our eyes can do is see in the dark. We're not... we're not special. We're just trying to survive."

  The medicae ward fell into heavy silence.

  Brother Ha'ken sat motionless, processing everything he'd been told.

  Lilith watched him, terrified, waiting for judgment.

  Finally, he spoke.

  "The gene-seed," he said slowly. "You believe it came from the Salamanders?"

  Lilith shrugged weakly. "I don't know. Maybe. Our eyes, well my right eye. My left eye is still blind but it’s a Navigator’s Eye... The Magos's records mentioned experimental variants, but I don't know the source. It could have been Salamander gene-seed. Or it could have been something else modified to produce similar effects."

  Brother Ha'ken nodded slowly, his analytical mind clearly working through the implications.

  "Gene-seed is chapter-specific," he said, more to himself than to them. "Each variant carries the genetic legacy of its Primarch. Salamander gene-seed produces certain physiological changes—darkened skin, red eyes, resistance to heat and radiation. If the Magos acquired samples and modified them..."

  He trailed off, his expression troubled.

  "The misuse of gene-seed is a grave offense," he continued. "Each chapter guards its genetic legacy jealously. To experiment on it, to corrupt it in pursuit of forbidden research... that Magos committed heresy of the highest order."

  He looked at the twins.

  "But you are not heretics. You are victims."

  Lilith felt something loosen in her chest. "You... you believe us?"

  "I have no reason not to." Brother Ha'ken gestured at the cot where Lilith sat. "The golden flames that wreathed you—they were not of the Warp. I am certain of this. Warp-fire brings cold and corruption. What burned within you brought warmth. Healing."

  He leaned forward again.

  "You said you opened a door to the Warp. That you lost control and killed everyone aboard that ship. Yet here you sit, alive and uncorrupted. Your sister—" he nodded at Eve, "—severed your connection through her Blank nature. That much makes sense."

  His glowing eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  "But the golden flames... those came later. After you had been unconscious for days, fighting a fever born of Warp exposure and trauma. What were they?"

  Lilith opened her mouth, then closed it.

  I don't know. Naic said he'd give me 'something else' instead of power. Was it the flames? But what ARE they?

  "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't remember anything from while I was unconscious. Just... darkness. And then I woke up here."

  Brother Ha'ken studied her face, as if trying to determine if she was lying.

  Apparently satisfied, he sat back.

  "A mystery, then. But mysteries can be investigated later." He crossed his massive arms. "What matters now is determining what you are, and what threat—if any—you pose."

  Lilith's heart sank. "We're not a threat. I swear. I don't want to hurt anyone. I can barely control anything about this body. The psyker awakening was an accident—"

  "Peace, child." Brother Ha'ken raised a hand. "I did not say you were a threat. I said I must determine if you are. There is a difference."

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  "You are a psyker. Untrained, unstable, capable of catastrophic manifestation. That alone makes you dangerous—not through malice, but through lack of control. It is like handing a lasgun to an infant and expecting them not to accidentally fire it."

  Lilith couldn't argue with that.

  "However," Brother Ha'ken continued, "your sister's presence appears to stabilize you. Her Blank nature suppresses your connection to the Warp. As long as you remain together, the risk of uncontrolled manifestation is minimal."

  He glanced at Eve. "You will not leave your sister's side. Ever. Do you understand?"

  Eve nodded fiercely. "Never."

  "Good." Brother Ha'ken turned back to Lilith. "And you—you must learn control. Untrained psykers are a danger to themselves and everyone around them. The fact that you survived your first manifestation without becoming a daemonhost is... remarkable. But luck runs out."

  "I don't know how to control it," Lilith said desperately. "I don't even know if I still can use psyker abilities. I haven't felt anything since that day on the ship."

  "That is because your sister suppresses it," Brother Ha'ken said. "But the potential remains. It will always remain. Gene-seed alterations do not simply fade."

  He was silent for a moment, thinking. Then his expression darkened.

  "There are organizations," he said, his voice dropping lower. "The Black Ships. The Scholastica Psykana. For a normal psyker, that would be the path."

  Lilith felt ice flood her veins. "Please—"

  "Peace," he interrupted, raising a hand. "I said for a normal psyker. You are not that."

  He stood and began to pace the small medicae ward, the metal floor groaning under his armored weight.

  "If I sent you to the Black Ships, they would examine you. And they would see the Navigator's Eye."

  He turned to face her, his expression grave.

  "The Navigator Houses are jealous and cruel. They guard their bloodlines with fanatic zeal. A mongrel carrying their genetic legacy without their name, without their blessing? They would demand your execution for polluting their sacred inheritance. You would not be trained. You would be killed—if you were fortunate. If you were not, they would make an example of you first."

  Lilith's breath caught. She hadn't even thought of that.

  Brother Ha'ken continued, his voice heavy with grim certainty.

  "And your sister—a Blank is too rare to be wasted in the Scholastica Psykana. The moment they discovered her nature, she would be claimed. The Assassinorum would take her for the Culexus Temple. Or the Sisters of Silence would demand her. Or the Inquisition would simply take her for their own purposes."

  He looked between them both.

  "You would be separated. Dissected. Studied. Used as tools or specimens, not treated as people. Your unique nature—gene-seed experiments, Navigator genetics, Blank manifestation—would make you far too valuable to simply train and release."

  His voice softened slightly, but the weight of his words remained.

  "That path is closed to you. To send you to the Black Ships would not be salvation. It would be a death sentence, or worse—a sentence to become weapons in truth, with no will of your own."

  The silence that followed was crushing.

  Lilith felt tears streaming down her face. "Then... then what do we do?"

  "That," Brother Ha'ken said quietly, "is what I am trying to determine."

  He stood, his massive form pacing the small medicae ward.

  "Your situation is... unique. Unprecedented, even. Gene-seed experiments. Failed psyker manifestation. Blank stabilization. Golden flames of unknown origin. And two children at the center of it all, victims of forces beyond their understanding."

  He stopped pacing and looked at them both.

  "The appropriate response would be to report this to my chapter. To inform the Inquisition. To have you taken into custody for further investigation and evaluation."

  Lilith's hands trembled. Eve looked ready to fight despite being in the presence of a Space Marine.

  "But," Brother Ha'ken continued, "I am a Salamander. And we do not abandon those who need our protection."

  He knelt down again, bringing himself to their level.

  "My chapter values human life above all else. We do not sacrifice the innocent in pursuit of safety or convenience. And I see no malice in either of you—only fear, trauma, and a desperate will to survive."

  His expression softened.

  "You are not weapons. You are not experiments. You are children. And children deserve a chance to live, even in this dark galaxy."

  Lilith felt tears streaming down her face before she even realized she was crying.

  "You... you're not going to turn us in?"

  "I am going to make a decision," Brother Ha'ken corrected. "But not yet. First, I need more information."

  He looked at Eve. "Your Blank nature. You say it is weak, but I sense something... significant about you. The absence around you is not subtle. How much of your ability have you hidden?"

  Eve glanced at Lilith, uncertain.

  Lilith squeezed her hand. It's okay. Tell him.

  Eve took a breath. "The Magos... said I was too strong. That I needed to be kept alone. Away from others. That people felt sick when they were near me."

  "But you do not affect the sisters here," Brother Ha'ken noted. "Nor the other children. Why?"

  Eve looked at Lilith again. "When Lilith woke up... something changed. The hollow feeling stopped. The sickness stopped. Like she... filled the empty space."

  Brother Ha'ken's eyes widened slightly. "Your Blank field is being suppressed by your sister's psyker presence. The two of you balance each other. Yin and yang. Warp and anti-Warp."

  He shook his head in wonder. "The Magos who created you may have failed in his intended purpose, but he succeeded in creating something extraordinary. A stable dyad. A psyker and Blank in perfect equilibrium."

  "Is that... bad?" Lilith asked nervously.

  "It is unprecedented," Brother Ha'ken said. "Which makes it dangerous. But also... valuable. If properly understood and protected."

  He stood once more, decision crystallizing in his glowing eyes.

  "Here is what I will do," he said formally. "I will not report you to the Inquisition. Not yet. You have committed no crime—the deaths aboard that ship were not your fault. You were a victim defending yourself."

  Lilith felt a sob of relief catch in her throat.

  "However," Brother Ha'ken continued, his tone firm, "you cannot remain completely unsupervised. I will speak with the sisters. Ensure they understand the nature of your situation. And I will return periodically to check on your progress."

  He looked at Lilith specifically. "You must learn control. Even with your sister's stabilizing presence, untrained psyker abilities are a threat. I will see if there are... discrete methods of training available."

  "And we can stay here?" Lilith asked, barely daring to hope. "At the orphanage?"

  "For now, yes. This place is as safe as any in a hive city. The sisters are kind, and you have protection here." He paused. "But you must be vigilant. The Inquisitor already has his eye on you. If you display any further signs of Warp corruption, he will act. And even I cannot protect you from that."

  "We understand," Lilith said quickly. "We'll be careful. We won't use any abilities. We'll just... be normal."

  Brother Ha'ken's expression was almost sad. "You will never be normal, child. What has been done to you cannot be undone. But you can choose to be good. And that, in this dark galaxy, is perhaps more important than being normal."

  He moved toward the door, then paused.

  "One more thing. The golden flames—whatever their origin, they saved your life. They burned away the Warp's corruption and left you whole. That is a blessing, even if we do not understand its source."

  He looked back at them with something like respect.

  "Perhaps the Emperor watches over you. Or perhaps something else does. Either way, you have been given a second chance. Do not waste it."

  With that, he opened the door.

  The three sisters stood in the hallway, clearly having been waiting anxiously.

  "Lord Astartes?" Sister Mercy asked hopefully.

  Brother Ha'ken nodded to her. "The children will remain here under your care. I have spoken with them. They are not corrupted. They are not a threat. But they require guidance and protection."

  He turned to Sister Prudence. "We must speak. Privately. There are things you need to know."

  Sister Prudence nodded grimly. "Of course, Lord Astartes."

  As the sisters began to file in to check on the twins, Brother Ha'ken glanced back one last time.

  His glowing red eyes met Lilith's mismatched gaze, and he nodded once—a gesture of acknowledgment, perhaps even approval.

  Then he was gone, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor.

  Lilith sat on the cot, Eve still clinging to her, and felt the weight of everything crash down.

  They'd told the truth—mostly.

  They'd been judged—and found worthy of mercy.

  They'd been given a chance.

  We're going to survive this, Lilith thought, hugging Eve close. Somehow, we're actually going to survive.