Chapter 1008 The Inquisition in Action
“It’s okay.”
Melissa Springer tried to relax, reminding herself that explanations of prophecy were never straightforward. , after all, even the library of the Psychic Academy is often filled with the most absurd meditation illusions, often those that are proven predictions.
But she still hesitated, disturbed by the vividness of the dream.
"It's me, but...but I look different, I'm in tatters, and...there's blood on my face. One of...oh, the throne...one of mine One arm was missing and blood was gushing out...I wanted to say something, but the wind was too strong, I...I couldn't hear, and then I saw...I..."
She was vaguely aware of a tear slipping down her cheek, and distantly, surreally, wondered why it was there.
What does that mean?
The words all jumbled together now, refusing to stop, and she felt herself plunged into the same terrible terror as in meditation, writhing and screaming and freezing, all at once.
"I looked at it...that shadow, I mean...like I was falling, straight through the snow to the ground, and...there was something chasing me, from behind my eyes Burning me...Emperor's blessing, it was the size of a hive, falling from the stars. And then".
"...the darkness crawled out of her womb"
She forced her eyes open long enough to check that the servitor had registered every word.
It watched her silently, waiting for her next command.
She sighed, allowing herself to fall into a deep, exhausted swoon.
But soon, her slumber was interrupted.
“Who?”
"Are you awake?"
"Ah, Inquisitor."
Melissa Springer bowed respectfully, her eyes lowered.
She had not yet become accustomed to her new master's eccentricities, but soon learned that his unusual temper was more easily reflected in those who failed to show due respect, given his insistence on wearing A mirrored helmet with only the narrowest of eye slits, it was probably unfortunate that any interested glance at his peculiar headgear would be mistaken for disrespect and might arouse his full wrath.
In short, Judge Lennart Meyers has always been not an easy person to get along with.
Even most of his fellow Inquisitors thought so.
But Melissa thought she was relatively safe for now, as long as she lowered her head and let the hem of his plaid robe and heavy armored boots dominate her view instead of his feathered cape and reflective mask.
"No need."
But today the facts proved her wrong. For such a majestic figure, the judge's voice today was surprisingly soft.
"I will not let my assistant grovel like a commoner. I am your supervisor, girl, not your master."
"I'm sorry, my lord."
She straightened up and adjusted her gaze upwards, showing a look of remorse. Maybe chest high would be more appropriate.
At the same time, she looked over the Inquisitor's shoulder to the rear, where were the masked figures who formed the Inquisitor's entourage. Several of them chuckled, amused by her gaffe.
She suppressed the strong desire to push their heads down and forced herself to calm down.
As the newest member of the entourage, she quickly learns that rank doesn't matter at all: she's technically second only in importance to the Inquisitor himself, but among this colorful crowd, It seems respect is earned, not demanded.
Each judge will have a team of entourage of different sizes. The size of the entourage is often related to the might and power of the judge. Of course, wealth is also a part, but it is not the main factor.
Lennart Meyers has more than sixty followers, who cover many fields such as negotiators, businessmen, liars, killers, soldiers, psykers, mutants, etc., and these followers follow the Inquisitor On the one hand, it is based on the other party's prestige, and on the other hand, it is seeking asylum.
Of course, the large political legacy left to Inquisitor Lennart Meyers by his late mentor is also a very important reason.
"I have read the vision you described."
Lennart Meyers sounded confused and waved a slender dataslate into her vision . "You had fainted before this happened."
“Because... the prophecy is too realistic, my lord.”
“I don’t care how realistic it is, girl, but I will not tolerate my servants fainting at important moments.”
>
“It won’t happen again, my lord.”
“Of course, it won’t.”
As the dataslate tilted upward, the Inquisitor's eyes wandered over the spidery text.
"Your description... is interesting to read, what does it mean?"
"I don't know, there are no brooders here to interpret -"
"I didn't ask the Emperor what the damn machine would do, girl! I asked you what you think."
She swallowed, resisting the urge to look at him.
"I...I think something is coming, my lord, coming here, I mean-"
"'Something', that's the best you can do "?"
She was almost trembling with nervousness, clenching her fists at her sides, trying to suppress the bitterness in her voice.
"Something from the stars, something big and dark. Something dark,"
There was a moment of silence, dust particles circulating in the beam of the hovering illuminator, across her field of vision At the edge, Melissa could see the entourage shuffling
Did her words resonate?
Suddenly, the rich voice of the judge broke the silence and her hope.
"The blood of the Emperor."
He said loudly, with regret in his voice.
“How should I deal with such details?”
As expected, the room was drowned in laughter as people vented their fawning fun in a fit of guffaws.
For a moment, she found herself hating them.
She allowed herself to relax, taking the humiliation gracefully - digging her nails into the flesh of her palms, blood seeping between her knuckles.
"That's enough."
The Inquisitor's smile disappeared, and a sudden silence enveloped the room. He squinted at the crowd, and his strong shoulders stood up.
The words were like a spring breeze to Melissa who was reluctantly basking in the din of spiritual release, she had had enough of them, fools though they may be, but they shut up.
"The operation will take place in half an hour."
The Inquisitor tilted his head towards his staff and barked orders.
"Prepare all tools and vehicles immediately, adopt B-level grouping mode, now."
Soon, the group of people were divided into several groups in a short time like machines, Melissa Anyone who is not familiar with everyone here can still see some clues about the allocation of resources: in each group there is at least one strong warrior or soldier, a psyker hiding a mask, a Mechanicum follower playing with a device, a wearing There is a hooded priest holding a chain saw, and a sniper with cold eyes.
With just one command, the Inquisitor's overall abilities and expertise come together just right, no nonsense. Even for Melissa, who was still reeling from their slights, this was impressive efficiency.
(End of this chapter)