REQUIEM - AFTERMATH:
The journey towards Saint's Whispers seemed to take an eternity. At times Velk was unsure if he'd even make the distance to the deserted Imperial colony of Coromandel at all; the Arvus wasn't designed for such a long flight and naturally there had been no time to check the fuel supply levels of the lander as he fled the burning Sealed Fate. At times, the journey tested even the stalwart resolve of the steely Inquisitor, particularly as he forced the shuttle to make planet-fall, convinced that the craft would be ripped apart by the atmospheric pressures exerted on the fragile tin can.
With the Emperor's grace, Velk made planetfall shortly after the second cycle. Exhausted and rattled, the Inquisitor sighed a prayer of thanks as his feet stepped on to reassuringly firm ground. Touching the micro-bead on the side of his head, Velk sent out a short encoded message into the eerily quiet streets: 'White. Clay. Sanctum.'
Some minutes later the gilded doors to the empty fortress opened, a frail phantom of a man, his cankered form riven with augments stepped from within the gloom.
'My Lord. So good to see you alive.'
'Bettelheim. Good to see you, too, old friend.'
'How did it go?'
'Oh, far better than we could ever have anticipated, old friend. Far better indeed.'
'Excellent, Sir. I have prepared your room. Shall we?'
'Thank you, Bettelheim. It's good to be home.'