Inside the flagship's interrogation chamber.
The famed Inquisitor Eisenhorn sat with a colleague from the Daemon Inquisition, interrogating an Eternal War Veteran of the Black Legion who had been captured in the previous skirmish.
The veteran wore mutated Terminator Armor. Its most distinctive feature was the pair of outward-extending fangs growing from the helmet, making it look exceedingly bizarre.
Eisenhorn had tried to remove his armor, only to find that he could not. The armor had mutated—perhaps it had become part of the traitor himself, which was why it could not be removed.
"Stop bouncing your leg, old man."
The other Inquisitor looked at Eisenhorn and reached out to press down on his leg.
But Eisenhorn had already formed the habit. He removed his colleague's hand from his leg and continued bouncing it.
The strange brass box hanging from his waist repeatedly struck the interrogation table as his body trembled, producing crisp clinks and scraping sounds.
"You're the senior one, so I won't argue with you." The Daemon Inquisition's Inquisitor could no longer stand it. Staring at Eisenhorn, he said, "You can bounce your leg, but could you put your balls where they belong instead of letting them keep getting intimate with the table leg?"
"Either sit here and wait with me, or get out." Eisenhorn had never liked people who made trouble over every little thing.
Still, he was not so hard-hearted as to be unreasonable. Though his words were harsh, he nevertheless unfastened the brass box from his waist and hung it from the support frame beneath the table.
The Eternal War Veteran watched the two Inquisitors in silence: "..."
The interrogation had yet to begin.
The Daemon Inquisition's Inquisitor glanced at Eisenhorn, then lowered his gaze and saw the brass box.
"This box can banish daemons," Eisenhorn