Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm

by Lea von Löwenstein

Chapter 69: Hidden Eyes

In her private chambers deep within the Scola’s Inquisitorial wing, Inquisitor Kael stood before a wall of flickering holo-displays. Each screen showed different feeds from her carefully placed surveillance network—some physical, some psychic, all revealing.

The Attack Analysis

“Replay medical wing incident,” she commanded. The central display responded, showing multiple angles of the servitor’s corruption and Sister Maren’s response.

Kael’s augmented eye whirred softly as it analysed every detail. “Pause. Enhance servitor transformation sequence.”

The image froze, showing the moment corruption took hold. Dark energy patterns became visible under her specialized scanning protocols.

“Not possession,” she murmured, making notes in her data-slate. “Direct override. They’ve found a way to corrupt machine spirits themselves.”

Network Infiltration

Another display showed her web of data-taps into the Scola’s internal systems. Red lines indicated corrupted pathways, green showed clean ones. The pattern was disturbing—like a cancer spreading through the Scola’s digital architecture.

“Cross-reference with previous incidents,” she ordered. Her cogitator hummed as it compiled data:

– Servitor malfunctions: up 300% in key areas

– Communication glitches: concentrated around certain secure channels

– Power fluctuations: forming patterns that matched the symbol from the forest

“They’re not just infiltrating the people,” she realized. “They’re corrupting the very systems we rely on.”

Hidden Watchers

A subtle alert drew her attention to one of the smaller displays. It showed the medical wing’s approaches, highlighting shadow movements that shouldn’t exist—figures that appeared on some sensors but not others.

“Multiple attempts to access the medical wing,” she noted. “All using different methods. They’re desperate to silence what Alric might reveal.”

Deeper Patterns

Kael’s augmented eye glowed as she accessed deeper layers of surveillance data. The holo-displays shifted, revealing patterns that normal sensors couldn’t detect.

“Show me thermal overlays of student movements, last three months.”

The display complied, creating a heat map of the Scola’s population flow. But there were anomalies—cold spots where there should be warmth, movements that occurred when corridors should be empty.

“They’re using the old passages,” she muttered, marking points where heat signatures simply vanished. “The ones that shouldn’t exist anymore.”

Immediate Response

Kael activated her secure vox-link to her storm trooper command squad. “Initiate Protocol Sanctus Obscura. Full spectrum monitoring of all access points to the medical wing. Authorization patterns Delta-Seven-Nine.”

She then began coding a series of encrypted orders:

– Repositioning of blessed auspex arrays

– Deployment of witch-sight servitors in key locations

– Installation of new ward-stones in previously unknown passages

“And get me Sister Maren’s full report on Alric’s visions. Priority Alpha.”

The Prescriptor’s Methods

As data flowed across her screens, a disturbing pattern emerged. The Prescriptor’s corruption wasn’t just spiritual or physical—it was technological, architectural, even temporal.

“Display corruption spread analysis,” she commanded.

The main holo-screen filled with a three-dimensional map of the Scola. Red lines showed known corruption, blue showed suspected paths, and black marked confirmed null zones where even her most sophisticated sensors couldn’t penetrate.

“They’re not just hiding in the shadows,” she realized, her augmented eye recording everything. “They’re creating new ones. Spaces between spaces. Moments between moments.”

A new alert flashed: another servitor had just gone dark near the archives. But this time, Kael was ready. Her finger moved to activate her response protocols, a grim smile touching her lips.

The war for the Scola had entered a new phase, and Inquisitor Kael intended to show the Prescriptor that shadows weren’t the only things that could hide and hunt.

Secure Contact

Kael’s fingers moved across her command interface with practiced precision. She knew the enemy would be watching normal communication channels, but Tyren’s modified cogitator operated on frequencies she had personally blessed and secured.

“Initiate Protocol Whisper-Faith,” she murmured, and the holo-display shifted to show a secure connection interface.

The Message

Tyren’s cogitator hummed softly during evening studies, its normal operational lights masking the incoming high-priority signal. Only a subtle change in the machine spirit’s blessed runes indicated the message’s arrival:

++Begin Secure Transmission++

++Inquisitorial Priority Channel++

++Faith-Locked Protocol Active++

“Van Daleon. Your friend’s dreams have stirred the shadows. They move now, desperate to silence what he might reveal. The servitor attack was only the beginning.

The Prescriptor’s reach extends deeper than we knew. They’ve corrupted not just flesh and faith, but machine and stone itself. The very walls have eyes, and not all of them serve the Emperor.

Trust only your immediate team. Trust only machines blessed by Tyren’s hand. Trust only shadows you cast yourself.

Watch for my signal. When it comes, be ready to move. What Alric sees in his dreams may be the key to everything.

The Emperor protects, but through His servants, He strikes first.

– K”

++End Transmission++

++Purge Protocol Engaged++

The message disappeared from Tyren’s cogitator as quickly as it had arrived, leaving no trace in any system the enemy might access.

Rae’s Response

Rae read the message twice, her hand instinctively touching the aquila at her throat. The study hall’s quiet suddenly felt oppressive, filled with unseen watchers. She glanced at Tyren, who gave an almost imperceptible nod—the message was genuine.

Her eyes swept the room, noting details she’d overlooked before: the way certain servitors’ optical units tracked their movements, how some of the older study texts seemed to pulse with barely visible light, the shadows that moved against the candlelight’s natural flow.

Team Mobilization

Using hand signals they’d developed after Talia’s loss, Rae alerted the others. They responded with practiced subtlety:

Celestine shifted her position, ensuring clear lines to both exits while appearing to focus on her studies.

Marcus moved his massive frame to better shield Tyren’s cogitator from view, his movement disguised as simple stretching.

Soren’s fingers brushed his concealed crossbow as he pretended to reach for another text, his eyes constantly scanning the upper galleries.

Enemy Eyes

They weren’t alone in noticing changes. Three older novices at the far table suddenly showed too much interest in their corner. Their wrist movements, seemingly casual, revealed glimpses of familiar markings.

A servitor wheeling a cart of books paused too long near their position, its mechanical movements slightly out of sync with its normal patterns.

Even the study hall’s ancient lumens seemed to flicker in patterns that carried hidden meaning, casting shadows that lingered too long in certain corners.

Preparation

Rae began writing in her study journal, but the words were carefully coded messages to her team:

“Night rounds – altered patterns.

Watch the old stones.

Trust only blessed steel.

Be ready for the signal.”

Tyren’s cogitator hummed softly as it ran background scans, searching for any tech-corruption in their immediate vicinity. His fingers never stopped moving across the keys, maintaining the appearance of normal study while his modified machine spirit kept watch.

Celestine started humming an old Imperial hymn, one they used to time their movements. Each verse marked a different position, a different state of readiness.

Marcus arranged his books to create subtle sight barriers, protecting their quiet preparations from prying eyes.

Soren’s crossbow bolts, blessed by Sister Verena herself, lay ready beneath his study materials.

The Warning Signs

As evening approached, the study hall’s atmosphere grew heavier. More servitors entered than usual. More students chose to study late. More shadows seemed to gather in corners that should have been well-lit.

They were being watched, but now they were watching back. Kael’s warning had transformed their vigilance into active preparation.

Whatever signal would come, whatever move the Prescriptor’s agents might make, Rae’s team would be ready. They had lost Talia to these shadows. They had almost lost Alric. They would not lose anyone else.

The Emperor protects, but through His servants, He prepares. And in the study hall of the Scola Progenium, preparation wore the mask of innocent study while blessed weapons waited beneath ancient texts.

Evening Falls

The Scola’s evening bells tolled, their deep resonance echoing through ancient stones. As other students began packing their studies away, Rae’s team maintained their positions, each movement carefully measured.

“Curfew approaches,” a servitor announced, its mechanized voice carrying across the study hall. “All novices return to dormitory levels.”

But something in the announcement was off—a subtle difference in the machine-cant that Tyren’s cogitator immediately flagged. His hand brushed Rae’s sleeve: three quick taps, their warning sign for corrupt machine spirits.

The First Signs

As they gathered their materials, Rae noticed the first indicator Kael had described in their training:

The chapel’s incense, drifting through ventilation shafts, carried the distinct scent of blessed wardroot—Kael’s chosen signal medium.

Tyren’s cogitator registered a series of micro-fluctuations in the Scola’s power grid. To most, it would appear as simple technical variance, but the pattern matched one of Kael’s secure codes:

++Prepare++

++Night brings revelation++

++Watch the old stones++

Movement Patterns

The team split into their practiced evening formation, appearing to separate for their different dormitory levels while maintaining overlapping fields of vision.

Celestine took the high route, her path to the female dormitories giving her a clear view of the main corridors.

Marcus and Tyren headed toward the male quarters, their pace deliberately slow to cover the rear.

Soren vanished into a side passage—officially heading to his assigned floor, actually moving to his pre-arranged observation post.

Rae walked alone, knowing she was being watched. Her path would take her past the medical wing, a seemingly innocent route that any concerned friend might take.

The air grew thick with tension as darkness claimed the Scola’s corridors. Something was coming. Kael’s signal was clear: tonight would bring change.