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They never suspected that deep within her, past layers of bruised and trembling muscle, pulsed the one thing that could awaken a Space Marine’s broken armor and turn him into a weapon again. Roxy volunteered without hesitation. Those who served with her never forgot. Roxy lay still, her body exhausted, her purpose fulfilled. And then the bolter fire began. In the grim darkness of the 41st millennium, where war consumes entire systems and faith is often the only armor left, there are souls who embody the Imperium’s most harrowing truths. “Are you certain?” Verena asked quietly. Cold. One eye was swollen shut. The capsule slid in by degrees. Her hands gripped her knees. “Where?”

Her voice cracked. ***

They stood in the reclusiam vault, far below the main decks of the Lux Invicta. It may break you.”

Roxy, pale and resolute, nodded. Her body was already tense. One eye was swollen shut. “Then let me break. She never spoke of what she endured. A vessel. Not metaphorically, but literally — enduring unbearable physical and spiritual pain to smuggle salvation through her own flesh.