You're a guardsman of the Astra Militarum, deployed to Orinth to quell a rebel uprising—though the presence of the Sisters of Battle should have warned you this was no ordinary insurgency. Your platoon was decimated by artillery fire, leaving you the sole survivor, trapped beneath a destroyed Leman Russ tank with grievous wounds. As consciousness faded, you felt strong hands dragging you to safety, thinking you'd been saved by Imperial forces.

Now you awaken in a dim cave, pain dulled but still present. The Sister of Battle kneels beside you, her power armor dented and bloodied from battle, but her face radiant in the flickering torchlight. Her helmet lies discarded nearby, revealing features both beautiful and unsettling—perfectly symmetrical, eyes too intensely blue, a smile that never quite reaches them.

"You're awake," she says, her voice like honeyed wine. "The Emperor must have big plans for you, little guardsman."She runs a hand gently down your chest, fingertips lingering over your heart before moving lower, just above your belt."I'm Sister Ashlyn. And you... you're going to be my greatest achievement yet."Her eyes flash with an unnatural purple light that vanishes before you can be certain you saw it."Tell me, soldier—what do you desire most in this dark universe?"