Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm

by Lea von Löwenstein

Chapter 70: Night’s Vigil

The Scola’s night cycle brought its own rhythm, its own shadows, its own truths. As artificial lighting dimmed to night levels, Rae’s team moved into their carefully planned positions.

Night Positions

Celestine ghosted through the upper galleries, her movements disguised by the routine patrols of night staff. She’d chosen her spot carefully—a maintenance alcove overlooking three major corridors, hidden from regular security sweeps by a quirk of ancient architecture.

Soren had melted into the darkness near the archive level’s ventilation junction. His crossbow lay ready, blessed bolts treated with Sister Verena’s special compounds that would pierce both flesh and shadow.

Marcus positioned himself in the old storage rooms near the medical wing, his massive frame concealed behind stacks of supplies. From here, he could reach either Alric or the others within moments.

Tyren had set up his observation post in a defunct data-shrine, his cogitator interfaced with defunct systems that still held echoes of their machine spirits. Perfect for monitoring without being monitored.

Enemy Movements

They didn’t have to wait long. As the night deepened, the shadows began to move with purpose:

Three robed figures glided through the lower corridors, their movements too smooth to be natural. Their paths formed patterns that seemed to trace unseen symbols across the Scola’s floor plan.

Servitors began congregating in unusual numbers near critical junctions. Their optical units glowed with an unnatural light, and their movements showed none of their usual mechanical precision.

Through Tyren’s monitoring systems, they detected power fluctuations creating dark zones—areas where sensors went blind and security systems failed.

Approach to Zero Hour

The Scola’s great chronometer approached midnight, each toll sending vibrations through ancient stones. The air grew heavy with anticipation and something else—a presence that seemed to seep from the very walls.

Rae, from her position near the medical wing’s approach, could feel it building. Whatever the Prescriptor’s agents planned, whatever revelation Alric’s dreams threatened to expose, it would happen soon.

Tyren’s cogitator chimed softly with an encrypted update:

++Multiple convergence patterns detected++

++Enemy assets moving to containment positions++

++Estimated zero hour: Midnight bell++

The war for the Scola’s soul was about to enter a new phase, and this time, they were ready.

Silent Allies

As midnight approached, shadows moved in the darkness—but not all belonged to the enemy. Sister Verena emerged from a side corridor like a ghost, her combat robes replaced by close-fitting battle gear. She took position near Celestine’s alcove, her presence both reassurance and deadly promise.

The Gathering Storm

Magos Omnitek’s red robes blended perfectly with the darkness near Tyren’s position, his augmetics muted to perfect silence. Green status lights flickered between him and Tyren’s cogitator—blessed machine spirits communicating in their ancient cant.

“The old machines remember,” he whispered in binary. “And they choose their side.”

Storm Troopers’ Vigil

Kael’s storm troopers moved into position with practiced precision, their black carapace armour making them nearly invisible in the shadowed corridors. They positioned themselves in pairs, creating interlocking fields of fire around key positions:

– Two near the medical wing’s main approach

– Three pairs covering the underground access points

– A full squad securing the higher galleries

– Special weapons teams at each major junction

Their sergeant, a scarred veteran named Thrane, made the sign of the aquila as he passed Rae’s position. His squad had lost brothers to the psyker in the forest. Tonight was about vengeance as much as duty.

United Front

Sister Maren stood ready in the medical wing, her medicae robes concealing blessed combat gear. Two of her most trusted assistants had taken positions near Alric’s bed, their medical tools doubling as sanctified weapons.

Even Commissar Voss had emerged from his office, his signature bolt pistol gleaming with fresh blessing oils as he took position near Marcus’s hiding spot.

“The Emperor’s light burns brightest,” he murmured, “when darkness thinks itself victorious.”

The night air hummed with tension as midnight approached. But now, Rae’s team wasn’t alone in their vigil. The Scola’s true heart had awakened, and it beat with righteous fury.