A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 5 : Among the Stars, like Giants. Part 3 : On the Edges of Perception

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There was pain, an agony of the souls screaming. Their memories, their lives, their whispers, their knowledge, all being stolen, all violated.

Sinoval could feel it. He was as much a part of the Well as the Well was of him. The Well of Souls, repository of the wisdom of millennia, stronghold of the last souls of races long since destroyed. A memory, and like all memories, with the potential for great joy or great anguish.

The pain ended, in time. The invader was driven away. He was not yet ready to attempt to conquer Cathedral itself. Despite his knowledge, he needed more time to prepare. That did not matter. He had done enough.

"We shall meet again, Primarch," said the voice in his mind. Calm, confident, clipped. The voice of one who has never known fear, never known doubt, never known anything but the absolute certainty of what he is doing. "Have no fear of that."

"I do not fear you," Sinoval hissed, knowing the invader could hear him.

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