The Voss Linage
The Emperor’s Light Lasfire crackled in the distance, faint echoes of a battle that had finally ended. Guardsman Daren Voss slumped against the half-buried ruin of a shrine, the scent of promethium and scorched metal still heavy in the air. His regiment had been shattered — what was left of them scattered across the blasted plain. A shadow fell over him. He reached for his lasgun out of instinct before realizing what stood before him: a figure clad in black and crimson armor, haloed by the fading light of the burning horizon. The fleur-de-lis of the Adepta Sororitas gleamed on her pauldron. Her eyes, sharp as drawn blades, softened as they met his. “You fought bravely, Guardsman,” she said. “The Emperor watches over you.” He tried to answer, but his voice was a rasp. “If He’s watching, I hope He approves of the mess we made.” For a moment, she was silent — then, to his shock, she smiled. A rare, human thing in this broken world. “The Emperor has many ways of showing His will,” sh...
