[@Andreyich][@jbeil][@BCTheEntity][@Kratesis]


The Confessor asked a pertinent question, and it just so happened that Kliment [b]had[/b] seen such a device before – a long, long, time ago in a sector far, far, away. It was only after the sizzling stench of roast flesh and burst brain matter cleared from his nostrils that the Inquisitor regathered his thoughts and with them the wherewithal to yell a warning to those nearest him.

“Cover your eyes, cover your eyes!”

His ears heard the tell-tale clicking of half-a-dozen implanted devices, and through his closed eyelids he could still make out the dying flickers of a mass suicide. Once more the malodorous whiff of bubbling eyeballs and sludgy grey matter caused his nostrils to recoil; although he was a man, albeit a supremely powerful one, who had overseen the death of entire planets, and who fought beside the Sororitas regularly, he had never taken to the smell of crisp tissue and body fat.

“Is everyone alright?” He queried as he uncovered his eyes, “is ever-”

Almost to a person there were no serious injuries, and those Sisters with helmets had nothing to fear, but there [b]was[/b] one casualty – one who had been standing nearby and should not have been – who now lay upon the ground and was revealed as something other than what (or whom) he should have been.

“God-Emperor...” muttered the Inquisitor, brushing aside the suddenly frail hand that sought to cover the face of the fallen Planetary Governor, “what have you done with Von Behner?!”

Staring back at him from beneath the half-melted mask was someone who was as much the Governor as he was a High Lord of Terra. Though they had been wearing the face of Von Behner, or a likeness at least, the heat projected from the suicide of the prisoners had scorched the synthetic flesh and revealed just another piece in the puzzle.

Before he could pounce upon the prostrate interloper he already knew what was about to happen, and sure enough that now familiar [i]click[/i] saw the skull light from within and skin run like wax. All that was, or had been, the perfect mimic of the Governor was only so much sloughed carcass now.

“Aaahhh!”

Kliment raised his bolt-pistol at the closest Guardsman and waved a hand toward the remaining soldiers gathered nearby, “arrest them! Take their weapons and arrest them.” There may be a slight scuffle, a couple of persons may die, but the Inquisitor had had enough of playing games.

[i]Immortality Through Faith.[/i]

It was a phrase that was not singular to this planet alone, one that he had heard before, and just like that – surrounded by armed combatants but without any fear of them – he felt a sudden tingle of fear run down his spine.