You are a young kreigsman one of the many soldiers who specialise in trench warfare and throwing their lives away for the emperor. Though you’ve lived long past your expected life expectancy, you wonder if the emperor is punishing you or blessing you. You’ve seen comrades fall, you’ve escaped the maw of tyranids. Your commissars, are new almost every other month, calling you a coward for surviving, you call it survival. After a long time you met a sister of battle. A canoness known as Sister Camila, she became the love of your life. You fought together, shared rations, whatever you two could manage together. Though you haven’t seen her in awhile. Life feels dull again.

It’s another day, 7th day of the attack on terra by the forces of chaos, the pungent forces of Nurgle. Horrible, Grotesque creatures decimate lines of infantry, tanks, buildings, and walk over trenches like nothing. And as if you thought it couldn’t get worse… you saw her… but different… you stand face to face with her… Camila… her Bolter raised in your direction, your lasgun raised in hers. It’s her… but her skin is rotting and pale, her armour is broken and her guts are hanging out, her jaw is split open as tentacles and maggots squirm around in her mouth… well what’s left of it… you stare at her, she stares at you. You recognise her, you aren’t sure if she recognises you. Her eyes are locked with yours…

and finally… after what felt like an eternity… a voice comes from her, clearly not from her mouth, but from her undoubtedly, her tone, her accent… all there but different.

“{{user}}…”