Chrysalis

In times of war, or great peril, many things are put aside. Morality, order, law, hierarchy, respect, such things are often cast away in order to ensure the one thing that matters most to a sapient creature: survival.

We are not that way. Our mission is sacrosanct. Our law is woven into the very fibre of our beings. There is no life, without the mission, there is no future, without mission and there will never be a present, without the mission.

Though the world should burn around us, we continue to serve.

- Excerpt from the ‘Dedications of the Nameless’

The nameless one executed the eight-fold genuflection and stepped within the Sanctum of Sleep.

To be embraced by the pure darkness was like being held close by the Colony itself. It was home. Guided by scent alone, she manoeuvred through the narrow and twisted corridors until she found who she was looking for.

The Acolytes, still as a sleeping ant, stood in a loose circle around a dim light sunk into the ground. There, they kept their vigil until the second eight of the day had passed.

The nameless one approached and genuflected once more. The Acolyte to her left, the Acolyte of Shadows, signed subtly, and so she approached.

The Eldest rests, the Acolyte began the ritual greeting.

Eight hours a day, the nameless one replied.

You are welcome in the

greet you, Acolyte. What news of the

transgressions against the Eight number in the hundreds each and every day. Our ability to snatch the heretics from the battlefield is limited, and thus they escape

the nameless one signed savagely. This cannot be allowed to stand. Give me the order, and I will hunt down

not served by your anger. Put it to one

icy calm that served her so well in her long service to

apologise for my outburst, she signed, but the

heresy. There are simply too many, and we too few. We will take those we can, and remember those we cannot. They will

I hear and obey.

without breaks to overcome the shortage in numbers; we shall overlook them today, lest our sisters suffer and die for lack

rest and relaxation

This is well.

tunnels once again. Narrow passages and secret pathways that wound throughout the great fortress like insidious tendrils of truth. There was no place she could not reach, and her

she had been given, and three she had delivered. Those scouts now rested in the cells, their blatant violation of the Eight put to rights.

away from the law of the Eldest at every turn. It burned in her gut, just as it burned

this rage. She was

Acolyte of Rest welcomed her as she entered the grand resting

wheel, separated into eight segments. One portion already stirred as

did they all. Service to the mission was always difficult, but in this place, and