Deep within the immense hull of the Vengeful Spirit, far from the splendour of the Bridge and the bustle of the living quarters, lay the lower decks, where the lighting was cold and the hum of the air circulation system was especially distinct.
These decks usually housed reserve equipment, storage spaces, and training grounds for noncombatant personnel, but a section had now been temporarily set aside for the "guests."
Company Captain Comius stood motionless at the edge of the training ground, like a statue carved from grey basalt.
He wore the Word Bearers' distinctive dark grey Power Armour, embossed with elaborate scriptures and symbols of faith. Every mark on his armour seemed to speak of his devotion to the Emperor and his Primarch.
His expression was solemn, his eyes deep-set, and his gaze swept calmly over the scene before him like a precisely calibrated targeting scope.
Before him, ten Word Bearers Warriors were training in close combat, paired off against one another.
Their movements sought neither the savage destruction favoured by some Legions nor the lethal precision prized by others. Instead, they possessed a distinctive rhythm, almost ritualistic in nature.
Every block, every lunge, every exertion of strength was rigorous and restrained, as though they were putting some prayer into physical practice.
The dull clang of metal, the whine of servo joints, and the occasional restrained grunt from the warriors echoed across the empty deck, mingling with the deep pulse of the enormous reactor in the distance to form a cold backdrop of sound.
Comius's gaze appeared to rest on the warriors, but his thoughts had long since passed through the heavy decks, roaming the many hidden layers of this Gloriana-class Battleship belonging to the Luna Wolves.
As one of the members personally assigned by Primarch Lorgar to the "Legion