The Battle of Sigma Ustali, World Forger (3k)

If you wanted to test a person's character, give him power.

No one knew who had first spoken that ancient proverb. The truth had scattered with bones into the wind. Whenever someone recited those words, it was like wind blowing through the hollow ribs of dry skeletons, that echo the last thing they had left in the world.

Steve raised a hand, signaling for the others to stay outside and not enter with him. Helbrecht, quite naturally, voiced his objection. "How can we allow you to be alone with that vicious killer?"

"She is an ally now, High Marshal," Steve answered gently. "Besides, do you think I am incapable of protecting myself?"

He half-jokingly patted his arm, and only then did Helbrecht belatedly remember that the courteous and mild-mannered lord before him was a Primarch. He lowered his head awkwardly and said no more.

"Then, Sicarius, please open your door."

"...As you command, my lord."

Sicarius opened his door as though resigned to his fate. Steve stepped inside, and the door closed behind him. The room was pitch-black, but that did not apply to him.

The darkness obediently receded from beneath his feet. Steve's gaze pierced the submissive dark and fixed on Lelith, who was huddled in the corner, trembling.

"I bear you no malice, madam."

"...Your Psionic power says otherwise." Her voice was full of terror.

"Perhaps, but I still cannot control it at present." Steve gave a noncommittal nod.

He did not have the Glyph Array turn on the lights for the time being. Well-versed in the art of conversation, he knew the most important thing right now was to steady Lelith's emotions. Rash stimulation was inadvisable—yet a question also began to coil in Steve's mind.

What exactly was his power?

Lelith Hesperax, one of the most dangerous