Inside the Inquisitorial hall of Cadia Fortress, the air was thick like lead, as if even the light from the promethium lamps was dimmed by the heavy atmosphere.
Knox stood beneath the Emperor's holy effigy, his black robes with gold patterns shimmering with a metallic sheen in the cold light.
His expression was devout and solemn, like a saint about to be canonized.
That is, if one ignored the fleeting calculation in his eyes.
His fingertips gently caressed the Aquila emblem on his robe, seemingly using it to conceal the fluctuations within him.
In the center of the hall, Custodian Guard Alessio stood like a statue cast from gold, the base of his power halberd tapping the ground, emitting a dull echo.
His face was perfectly inhuman, but his sharp eyes seemed capable of directly dissecting the soul's surface, leaving no lie hidden before him.
"Knox."
Alessio's voice was deep and authoritative, each syllable seemingly squeezed from the foundation stones of the Imperial Palace on Terra.
"The record of your divine miracles has been submitted to the Throne Court. According to Article 174 of the Holy Terra Codex, any individual claiming direct connection to the Emperor's will must undergo personal verification by the Custodian Guard."
Inquisitor Sima stood to the side, data streams flickering madly in his mechanical eye, causing his bionic vocal cords to emit a faint electrical crackle: "My Lord, my disciple has passed the Daemon Inquisitorial's seven-fold psychic examinations, and even..."
"…Even rendered the Grey Knights' psychic probes silent?"
Alessio coldly interrupted, his gaze still fixed on Knox.
"It's interesting to note that our archives indicate the last individual to exhibit similar circumstances was a psyker from the Thousand Sons Legion."
In the corner of the hall, the Grey Knights squad members led by Toren simultaneously rested their hands on their boltguns, their servo-systems humming with alertness, as if ready to respond to a sudden Inquisition of heresy.
Knox's mouth twitched imperceptibly.
(These custodes are indeed harder to fool than the Grey Knights…)
However, a humble smile appeared on his face, and he made the Aquila gesture across his chest with his right hand: "It is my honor to provide verification for the Emperor's loyal guardians."
Alessio nodded slightly, activating both the psychic suppressor and soul probe in his hand. Their technological sophistication far surpassed the Inquisition's crude toys; they could even detect the most minute ripples in the Warp.
Knox could feel that these devices were likely designed to root out special existences like him.
"Begin!"
Knox took a deep breath, and the Mirror of Retribution in the depths of his consciousness quietly began to operate.
This dilapidated netherworld artifact groaned under the strain, but it faithfully wove layer upon layer of illusions.
His psychic readings were precisely controlled within the range of a high-ranking saint, his soul spectrum presented as a pure white, standard Imperial template, and even his heart rate perfectly conformed to the norms of the "Saint's Physiological Guide."
The Custodian Guard probes moved around him, but Alessio's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.
"Readings… normal." Finally, he said in a deep voice, with a hint of undetectable confusion in his tone.
Sima's mechanical lungs exhaled a bionic sigh, accompanied by the clicking of gears: "I told you, he is the Emperor's blessing."
This sentence echoed in the hall, forming a subtle contrast with his previous probing questions.
Knox's eye twitched imperceptibly.
This old relic's processor must have been damaged by promethium, changing its stance faster than the Terra Council.
He lowered his eyelids, his robe hood casting a shadow on his face, perfectly concealing the cunning glint that flashed in his pupils.
However, Alessio's next words were like a golden power halberd striking down, shattering the nascent smugness he had just felt.
"Initial verification passed."
The Custodian Guard put away his probe, his voice chillingly calm, "But according to procedure, you need to personally travel to Terra to receive the Throne Court's final judgment."
The temperature in the hall seemed to drop ten degrees.
Knox's fingertips grew slightly cold; he knew too well what this meant.
Though the one on the Golden Throne was half-dead, his psychic perception was enough to penetrate any disguise.
The Mirror of Retribution's tricks might fool mortals and even Astartes, but under the gaze of the Lord of Humanity, his netherworld authority would likely be as conspicuous as a candle in a Warp Storm.
"What an honor!"
Sima's voice suddenly rose by eight octaves, his mechanical eye contracting with excitement, "My disciple will actually be able to personally visit Holy Terra and meet the Emperor!"
Knox almost couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes.
This old fox was quick to sell out his disciple, he gritted his teeth inwardly. If it weren't for your exaggerated reports earlier, how could this golden, troublesome fellow have been attracted?
He forced himself to show an expression of being overwhelmed by favor: "I… am overwhelmed with trepidation."
Alessio's gaze remained cold: "Depart in ten days. During this time, you may complete the handover of your current duties."
Knox lowered his head, pretending to adjust his cuff, but in reality, he was hiding the faintly glowing netherworld emblem on the back of his hand.
"Ten days… enough time for me to fleece them one last time."
In the following days, Knox was as busy as a true saint.
He presided over mass in the cathedral of Cadia Fortress, and the halos of faith from the believers surged towards his sea of consciousness like a tide.
He occasionally healed a few dying warriors, and the gratitude he received caused the Mirror of Retribution's surface to glow with a sated blue light.
He even generously blessed the Grey Knights' weapons, incidentally piggybacking on some of their psychic fluctuations as a cover.
Toren privately whispered to the Tech-Sergeant: "This Inquisitor has been eerily devout lately."
The Tech-Sergeant's mechanical tendrils trembled slightly: "Perhaps he is just preparing to meet the Emperor?"
"Or preparing for something much worse." Toren responded in a low voice, unconsciously flicking the safety catch of his boltgun.
At dawn on the tenth day, Knox stood before the thunderhawk gunship's boarding ramp, behind him the purplish-red nebula of Cadia.
Alessio was already waiting fully armored at the hatch, his golden power armor gleaming in the starlight.
"Are you ready, Inquisitor?"
The Custodian Guard captain's voice came through his helmet, with a metallic quality.
Knox smiled and nodded, but in his palm, he held a Warp beacon pilfered from the Mechanicus—in case of necessity, he would not hesitate to detonate it to create a navigation accident.
"At worst, I'll open a Ghost Gate in the Warp and slip away…"
The thunderhawk gunship's engines roared deafeningly, slowly ascending towards the Custodian Guard warship in orbit.
Knox looked at the gradually shrinking Cadia Fortress, and suddenly felt that he was very much like a prisoner being escorted to the judgment stand.
Except the judge of this trial was an old rotting man sitting on the Golden Throne.
"Hopefully, the old man is in a good mood…"
As the thunderhawk gunship's hatch closed, the last trace of light from Cadia was cut off.
Knox's lips curved into a self-mocking arc, as if mocking his own fate, and perhaps mocking this absurd galaxy—after all, here, even a "saint" could be a fraud, and a "fraud" could become a saint.