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Heavy. The weight seated fully. What she endures is beyond comprehension — and yet utterly human. This tale does not seek comfort or triumph. Those who served with her never forgot. She endured, because there was no choice. “We need to remove it.”

“Quietly,” she said. “I carry the fire,” she whispered. Cold. “No,” he said, voice hoarse. They beat her. The heretics believed she was a captured missionary — a discarded Sister cast off by the Ecclesiarchy. A vessel. After endless minutes, the pressure shifted. A member of the Adepta Sororitas, Roxy once stood tall in power armor, her voice rising in hymn as bolter fire thundered in righteous fury. A vessel. Her hands clawed at the stone floor, her legs trembling violently. The weight seated fully. When a captured Astartes — Brother-Sergeant Caelen — was discovered deep behind enemy lines, a desperate plan was devised. Verena whispered prayers as she worked — half to comfort Roxy, half to steel herself. They took her without resistance.