Field Tale: “A Brush with the Emperor’s Shadow”
They say Corporal Veck of Ghost Alley once found the perfect nest: a rusted gantry in the collapsed spire of Hive Helix, five floors above the kill zone and cloaked in sump steam and shadows. No light reached there. No sound escaped. It was ideal—the kind of spot Ghost Alley lived for.
He’d been still for four hours. Breathing through his mask’s slow-pulse valve. Watching through the scope. Waiting for the command.
Then he felt it.
Not a sound. Not a motion. Just… presence.
He shifted his eye just slightly from the scope—and froze.
There, not three feet to his right, nestled in the same ruin, a Vindicare Assassin sat cross-legged, rifle cradled, still as death. The black-clad killer turned just enough to lock eyes with him.
No words. No threats. Just a single, approving nod from the Emperor’s own executioner.
Veck nodded back—or at least tried to. Hard to say. He’d gone completely numb. Good thing he was wearing a rebreather, or the assassin might have seen the pure, unfiltered terror on his face.
They fired within seconds of each other.
Two targets dropped, never knowing how close they’d come to twice the Emperor’s judgment.
It’s become a quiet legend in the 13th. Now, whenever a member of Ghost Alley claims a particularly flawless shot, someone always says:
“Close... but not Vindicare close.”
Hey, when you have a good sniper spot, ....
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