Yvraine followed behind Sicarius's towering figure as they walked through the corridors of the new warship.
Along the way, everything she saw through the vast observation windows and occasionally opened passage gates continually shattered her preconceptions of the Imperium of Man.
In orbit, enormous defensive platforms like mobile fortresses, clad in new armor and armed with energy weapons, cruised silently. Within the massive docks, countless engineering vessels bustled like worker bees, constructing sleeker and noticeably more advanced new warships. Even through the atmosphere, she could faintly see the vast, refreshing stretches of green and blue across the surface.
This Imperium of Man was being reborn at an astonishing pace.
That cast an even deeper shadow over her urgent plea for aid on behalf of her people—would an Imperium of Man rising so swiftly still care whether the Eldar survived or perished?
She unconsciously tightened her grip on the Crone Sword. Its cold touch steadied her somewhat.
If... if Guilliman refused to help, then her only hope would rest with those members of the Hilling Empire who had once communicated with her and displayed power far beyond comprehension, such as the warm yet formidable Valkyrie named Glory.
She remembered that their last exchange had seemed fairly pleasant.
Just as her thoughts wandered, the party arrived at the boundary between the inner and outer sections of the Imperial Palace.
A squad of Adeptus Custodes in golden armor seemed to emerge from the walls, silently blocking their path.
Their gazes felt almost tangible as they swept over Sicarius before finally settling on Yvraine, particularly the sword in her hand that radiated inhuman energy.
"Stop." The leading Adeptus Custodes spoke without the slightest emotion. "Xenos, surrender your weapon."
Yvraine's heart tightened, and she instinctively gripped the sword even harder.
"This concerns the fate of