The Inquisitor's gaze bore into Lilith like a physical weight.

  "What are you talking about, child?" His voice was measured, controlled, but there was a razor's edge beneath it. "Are you accusing a servant of the Holy Ordos of impersonation?"

  His eyes sharpened, never leaving Lilith's face. Analyzing. Calculating.

  "I am Inquisitor Rathken of the Ordo Hereticus. I carry the rosette of His Divine Majesty. And you—" he raised the bolt pistol slightly, the massive barrel leveling perfectly with her forehead, "—you are tainted. A mutant anomaly reeking of the Warp. A threat to every soul in this sanctum."

  The weapon's barrel seemed enormous. One twitch of his finger, and her head would simply cease to exist. She should have been terrified. She should have been frozen in panic.

  But she wasn't.

  Instead, a strange, profound calm settled over her—not natural, not entirely her own. It was like the dream again, a vast, ancient presence steadying her pulse.

  And then she heard it.

  A whisper.

  It was not in Low Gothic. Not in any language born of mortal throats. But she understood the intent perfectly. Speak the words. Unmask the lie.

  Lilith's mouth opened.

  And sounds bled into the air that made the physical world shudder. It was not speech. It was a sequence of clicks, overlapping harmonics, and screeching syllables that twisted in on themselves. It was a sound that made the air temperature plummet and the shadows in the room stretch toward her.

  "K????h???r???????t???h???'???v??????r??? ???n???'???g???h???a???t???h??? ???w???r??????t?????????ú??m????b???r????a???n???? ???s????h??????d???????w???"

  The syllables hung in the air like toxic smoke, sickening to the ear.

  Everyone froze.

  Sister Prudence clamped her hands over her ears, her eyes wide with incomprehension. The two armed escorts flanking the Inquisitor stiffened, their military posture breaking as a visceral, unnatural panic flashed across their faces.

  And the Inquisitor—

  His righteous fury vanished. The hand holding the bolt pistol trembled, then slowly lowered. For a fraction of a second, his carefully controlled human mask fractured. His eyes blinked horizontally. A flash of noxious pink fire bled through the skin of his cheek.

  When he spoke, the clipped, authoritative bark of an Imperial zealot was gone. His voice was now layered, echoing with two distinct pitches, accompanied by a wet, bubbling chuckle.

  "Well, well, well," the thing wearing Rathken’s face whispered, tilting its head at an impossible, owl-like angle. "What a beautiful, terrible song for such a little bird to sing."

  The illusion shattered. The human flesh melted away like hot wax, revealing the pale, too-smooth skin and wrong-bending joints of a Changeling of Tzeentch.

  "Throne preserve us," Sister Prudence breathed, horror dawning as she realized what was standing in her office. "A daemon..."

  The creature completely ignored the Sister. Its eyes, now glowing with unnatural light, locked onto Lilith with obsessive, manic hunger.

  "The Weaver of Destinies said you were a prize," the daemon hissed, stepping closer. "But He did not say you knew the Old Words. Tell me, little anomaly... who is whispering in your ear? What shadow taught you how to speak?"

  It raised the bolt pistol again, its inhuman fingers wrapping around the grip. "No matter. We will tear your mind apart and find the answers ourselves."

  Sister Prudence moved.

  She threw herself in front of Lilith and Eve, her arms spread wide, putting her unarmored body between the bolt pistol and the children. "In the name of the God-Emperor, you will not touch them!" she screamed, pure faith overriding her terror.

  The daemon let out a sound like breaking glass. "Brave meat. But pointless. I will paint the walls with you first."

  The two escorts rippled, their disguises dissolving into pale, many-limbed horrors as they prepared to pounce.

  The lead Changeling's finger tightened on the trigger—

  Eve moved.

  She didn't run. She exploded. The sheer kinetic force of her launch cracked the reinforced rockrete beneath her small shoes. One moment she was standing still; the next, she had crossed the ten-foot gap, her tiny hand clamping around the daemon’s wrist.

  CRACK.

  It sounded like a falling steel girder. Eve didn't just break the Changeling’s arm; she pulverized the bone and Warp-flesh into paste. The bolt pistol hit the floor, still clutched by a severed hand.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The creature shrieked—a multi-dimensional sound of pure agony.

  Eve’s face remained entirely blank. Her other hand shot out, her small fingers wrapping around the daemon's throat. She squeezed.

  The atmospheric pressure of her grip simply vaporized the creature's neck. Its head detached with a sickening pop, spraying burning, hissing ectoplasm across the corridor. The headless puppet collapsed, rapidly dissolving into Warp-smoke.

  Total elapsed time: less than two seconds.

  The remaining two Changelings froze, their daemonic intellects failing to process how a mortal child had just unmade their leader with blunt force.

  Then they lunged.

  The first swept a razor-sharp, elongated claw at Eve's head. Eve didn't dodge. She caught the limb mid-air. With a wet, tearing sound, she ripped the arm entirely out of its socket, using the severed limb to backhand the creature across the face, shattering its skull.

  The second Changeling tried to bypass Eve, lunging for Lilith.

  Wrong move.

  Eve dropped the severed arm. She grabbed the leaping daemon by its featureless face, pivoted on her heel, and threw it.

  The air displaced with a deafening sonic BOOM. She threw the daemon with the velocity of a siege shell. The creature smashed through Sister Prudence’s heavy oak door, tore through the rockrete wall of the hallway, and erupted out into the courtyard in an explosion of dust and debris. The impact crater was three feet deep. The daemon did not get up.

  The first Changeling, missing an arm and half its face, scrabbled backward across the floor, leaving a trail of smoking ichor, desperately trying to retreat into the Warp.

  Eve walked toward it. Slowly. Deliberately. Her crimson eyes were dead, emotionless. The face of a weapon performing a function.

  The daemon hissed, raising its remaining hand to weave a sorcerous ward.

  Eve stomped on its head.

  The impact sounded like a thunderclap. The skull caved in instantly, the physical manifestation destroyed so violently that the daemon's essence was banished back to the Immaterium before it could even scream.

  Silence.

  Total, suffocating silence, save for the hiss of dissolving ectoplasm.

  Sister Prudence stood frozen, pale as a corpse. She had just watched a five-year-old girl obliterate three daemons. Not through faith, not through holy fire, but through overwhelming, god-like physical brutality.

  Sisters of the orphanage began to emerge from the corridors, drawn by the thunderous noise. Sister Marian appeared, her medicae kit in hand. "By the Emperor's grace—what happened?!" she gasped, taking in the ruined wall and the smoking puddles of Warp-filth.

  In the center of the carnage, Eve turned back to Lilith.

  Her blank, weapon-like expression remained, but she tilted her head slightly. Her eyes sought Lilith’s.

  Did I do good? Reward.

  Lilith crossed the distance, her legs shaking from the adrenaline dump. She ignored the burning ichor sizzling on the floorboards. "Are you okay?" she asked, her hands hovering nervously.

  Eve nodded once. "I'm fine."

  Despite the cosmic horror and the absolute butchery that had just occurred, Lilith felt a surge of overwhelming warmth. She reached out and gently patted Eve's head, running her hand through the short black hair.

  "You did amazing," Lilith whispered. "Thank you for protecting us."

  Eve’s face softened. The weapon vanished, replaced by the little girl who liked holding hands. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes.

  Then, the floor vibrated.

  Heavy, rhythmic thuds of massive boots echoed down the hall. Three towering figures clad in emerald ceramite rounded the corner, their bolters raised. Salamanders.

  Brother Ha'ken took the lead, his glowing red eyes scanning the devastation. He saw the shattered wall, the dissolving daemonic residue, the terrified Sisters, and the two little girls standing in the epicenter.

  "Hold fast!" Ha'ken’s voice boomed, deep and commanding. "Report, Sister. What manner of Warp-taint breached this sanctum?"

  Sister Prudence found her voice, though she was trembling violently. "Daemons, Lord Astartes... They wore the flesh of Inquisitor Rathken and his retinue. They aimed to take the children."

  Ha'ken’s massive bolter lowered a fraction, his gaze sweeping the empty room. "Where are the Neverborn now?"

  "Banished," Sister Marian whispered, pointing a shaking finger at Eve. "The child... Eve. She destroyed them. With her bare hands. It took seconds."

  Ha'ken went perfectly still. His glowing red eyes shifted to Eve, who was simply standing there, enjoying her headpat.

  "Impressive," Ha'ken murmured, the word carrying a weight of profound disbelief. He activated his vox-bead. "Brothers. Fan out. Full auspex sweep of the compound. If any other shadows move, burn them to ash."

  The two other Astartes moved out instantly. Ha'ken stepped forward, the servos in his armor whining as he dropped to one knee, bringing his massive, charcoal-skinned face closer to the girls.

  "You slew three manifestations of the Archenemy," Ha'ken said, addressing Eve.

  Eve merely nodded, stepping slightly closer to Lilith.

  Ha'ken turned his piercing gaze to Lilith. "Their disguises are flawless, meant to fool even the Ordos. How did you know to strike? How was the lie revealed?"

  Lilith swallowed hard. How do I explain that I spoke the language of the Warp? That something inside me broke their spell?

  "I... I knew something was wrong," Lilith lied smoothly, keeping her voice small. "I spoke out. I challenged him. And when I did, the Inquisitor got angry. He lost his focus, and his face changed. When he pulled the gun, Eve moved."

  Ha'ken studied her. Space Marines were not easily fooled, and a Salamander understood the weight of a lie. But he chose not to press.

  Hurried footsteps echoed behind the giant. Sister Mercy burst into the corridor, her face stained with tears and terror. "Emperor protect us! I heard the structural collapse—" She saw the girls and dropped to her knees, pulling both Lilith and Eve into a desperate, crushing hug. "You're alive. Oh, Throne, you're alive."

  Eve stiffened at the sudden contact, tolerating it only because Lilith was hugging the Sister back.

  Ha'ken stood, his massive frame casting a long shadow over them. "This changes our parameters. The Archenemy does not infiltrate so boldly without purpose. They know what you are, little ones. And they covet it."

  He looked to Sister Prudence. "I am stationing two battle-brothers at this corridor permanently. No one enters without my authorization. No exceptions." He looked back down at Lilith. "You do not wander. You do not leave this room without an escort. You survived today through raw strength and fortune. You will not be so lucky twice."

  "Yes, Lord Astartes," Lilith said quietly.

  Ha'ken gave a sharp nod, turning to oversee the perimeter sweep. "Someone knows you are here," he muttered, almost to himself. "And they are willing to risk much to claim you."

  As Sister Mercy ushered them back into their room, Lilith felt Eve squeeze her hand.

  Lilith’s mind raced, analyzing the pieces. A kidnapping attempt. I’m sure this is only the start.

  Slaanesh, Khorne and Nurgle wouldn't care.

  That left only one option. The Architect of Fate.

  Lilith's eyes narrowed, a cold, unchildlike fury settling in her chest. Sister Prudence had almost died and others as well.

  I will remember this, Tzeentch, Lilith thought, squeezing Eve’s hand back.

  There is a spoiler on my patreon (it is up to you if you want to read it or not). Another 40k fanfic that will be connected to this (yeah, i decided that i will connect the 40k fanfics to each other if i will make them but i will focus on this for now, since i'm still planning). So, things will happen for worse or better.