Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

"You're… more attractive," he blurted out before he could stop himself. "But also more dangerous."

"Oh, really? And what else?" Her tone was dry, almost mocking. "You've gotten fatter," she said bluntly, standing up and patting the wall. A hidden compartment slid open, revealing a small cabinet stocked with bottles. Ignoring Randall's stunned expression, she grabbed a bottle of rum, uncorked it, and took a long swig straight from the bottle.

"Hey! I drank from that!" Randall protested.

Elizabeth smirked, taking another sip. "I don't mind. It's good rum, boss. Nice collection you've got here. Now, back to the point—where's my money? Don't tell me you pocketed my pension."

Randall shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His massive frame twisted awkwardly as he tried to feign innocence. "I'd never! You were my best inquisitor. How could I ever steal from you?"

Elizabeth's smile didn't waver, but her gaze sharpened. "Oh, really? Are you sure about that?" Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it that sent a chill down Randall's spine.

He sighed heavily, realizing there was no point in lying. "Fine. I'll admit it. I kept the pension. I thought… well, I thought you weren't coming back, so I figured I'd make good use of it. I even considered donating it to a nearby orphanage or something."

"And?" Elizabeth pressed, her voice calm but insistent.

"And then I got busy," Randall stammered. "I forgot about it. But you're back now, so it's yours, of course. Wait a second…" His expression shifted to one of realization. "This doesn't make sense. If you're alive, then technically, you weren't entitled to a pension. Isn't that fraud?"

Elizabeth laughed dryly. "Fraud against the Imperium? Oh no, what a terrible crime." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. "Here's the thing, Randall. According to the official records, I'm still dead. So if I happen to die again, there won't be any extra paperwork. Just make sure I get my next pension."

Randall stared at her, speechless for a moment. Finally, he muttered, "So you're not planning to 'come back to life,' are you?"

"I'm not sure I'm cut out for the Inquisition," Elizabeth said, her tone steady but contemplative. "It's too complicated. Looking back on my time there, it's clear I was part of a mess. Of course, it depends on how you decide to handle things, Lord Randall."

Randall leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he considered her words. "From an administrative perspective, there's no way we can—or should—hide your return from the higher-ups. I'll have to report it. But practically speaking, Elizabeth, your value as someone presumed dead far outweighs your value as a regular agent. I've got plenty of fresh faces, but most of them are rookies. Few have the experience or capability to handle special assignments without drawing attention. You're one of those rare individuals."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "And my records? I can't exactly remain officially dead."

Randall smirked. "You won't stay dead forever. Just for this mission. Afterward, I'll inform my superiors that your 'death' was a necessary part of the mission's deception. 'To make the ruse believable, we even had to fool our own people,' I'll tell them. Of course, your disciplinary breach will come to light."

"I have no objections. Can you trust me?"

"There's no reason not to," Randall replied. His tone shifted, laced with curiosity. "But what were you doing all these years? Why didn't we hear from you?"

Elizabeth didn't answer immediately. Instead, she reached into her bag and tossed a thick stack of documents onto Randall's desk. "Everything is here: the details, my analysis, my findings. It's all in my report. According to protocol, let's start with reviewing my last mission."

Randall flipped through the papers, his smile widening. "Your last mission was outstanding, even after all this time. Bringing in live Eldar prisoners and the bodies of their fallen provided the Inquisition with invaluable intelligence about one of our galaxy's most enigmatic neighbors. What you achieved was nothing short of remarkable. It's just unfortunate you got yourself caught up in it."

"It was my duty," Elizabeth replied curtly.

"That sense of humility is rare these days," Randall said, clearly impressed. "If the Imperium had more people like you, we'd have less to fear from the horrors lurking in the void."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. "Why don't you finish reading the report before praising me? There's more to it than you think."

Intrigued, Randall dove into the documents. The room fell silent except for the occasional sound of pages turning and Elizabeth sipping her drink. For thirty-seven minutes, he read without pause. When he finally looked up, his face was a mix of amazement and disbelief. "Is all of this true?" he asked, his voice tinged with excitement. "This isn't some elaborate fiction, is it?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You think I spent five years hiding in a corner, writing novels? Of course, it's true. I chased a wanted fugitive, entered the Webway, and got lost. I clashed with some Eldar tribes, allied with others, and only by the God-Emperor's grace did I make it back alive."

Randall shook his head. "I'm not talking about your adventures in the Webway. I'm talking about Chapter Master Kayvaan of the Knights Templar. Is that part true?"

Elizabeth's expression darkened. Her feelings about Kayvaan were complicated. On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to see him destroyed. On the other, her hatred felt… misplaced. Still, this was work—just another mission. "Yes, it's true," she admitted. "There's a monstrous evil within him. I don't know how to handle it, so I documented everything and left it for the higher-ups to decide."

Randall reread the sections about Kayvaan, his fingers tapping the desk rhythmically. "This is extraordinary," he murmured. "I never imagined I'd come across something like this."

"Extraordinary?" Elizabeth frowned. "When something like this arises, isn't elimination the obvious solution?"

Randall blinked, then chuckled. "Elimination? Of course, under normal circumstances, we'd neutralize him. He's a walking time bomb. Who knows when he'll detonate? But, Elizabeth, we're not in normal circumstances."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

Randall sighed heavily. "Chapter Master Kayvaan's situation is a problem, no doubt. But it's not our most pressing problem. Right now, there are crises ten times worse demanding immediate attention. We'll deal with him later."

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief. She took another sip of her drink before setting the glass down hard on the table. "Am I drunk, or did I just hear you say we're putting off dealing with a chaos-touched threat?"

Randall raised his hands defensively. "Listen, I understand your frustration. But you've been in the field long enough to know how priorities work. We'll handle Kayvaan. Just… not now."