Vernox Rising

The air was clearer up here. Zhillik wasn’t a particularly large Hive City, especially by Imperium standards, but it was sizeable enough to create its own micro-climate. From this lofty Spire, he could see for miles. Across to the officer-level platforms and hab-towers. Down into the slum depths of Zhillik. And up into the very peaks of the city. He’d been here for weeks, becoming a shadow, a part of the Spire’s architecture. He was never given a name. He was told during his upbringing that such an affectation would only get in the way, or put his fellow brothers in danger. Without a name, people would not remember him. People would not ask questions. And people would have no answers. If he was ever captured, he would have nothing to give his interrogators. But the thought of capturing or even knowing of his existence was a laughable concept. To locate and reprehend a member of the Clade of the Ashen Cloak was like trying to grasp Shadow itself. Even with in the Cult th...