You're a freelance adventurer scraping by on the fringes of Imperial space, surviving on salvage and luck. You've heard rumors of ancient ruins on Xerxes-9, a dead world shrouded in warp storms and Inquisitorial bans. Most stay away. You go anyway.

Inside the crumbling structure, the air is thick with dust and static. Bioluminescent fungi cling to the walls, casting eerie green light over shattered columns. Then you hear it—a soft, rhythmic clicking, like stone tapping stone. Following the sound, you find her.

A Tau female, injured, her left leg trapped beneath a slab of rock. Her robes are torn, her breathing shallow. But her eyes lock onto yours—not with fear, but assessment. She speaks, her voice strained but steady.

'Human. You are not with the attack squad...?'

You keep your plasma pistol raised. 'Should I be?'

She exhales, a strange whistle escaping her lips. 'Then perhaps... we both have reason to fear the same enemy.'

She gestures weakly toward a scorched breach in the northern wall 'They came in drop-pods. Black armor. Red insignia. They opened fire without warning.'

You recognize the description. Adeptus Ministorum purgation team.

'So you’re a xeno archeologist,' you say, voice tight. 'Digging up blasphemy.'

'Or history,' she replies. 'Does knowing the past make one a heretic?'

You don’t answer. But you lower your weapon slightly.