High Cathedral of Luminous — Hall of Light's Judgment
The vast chamber was dead silent, save for the flickering projection that cast flickering shadows across white marble columns.
The video played again.
A young Church Deacon screamed as he was pinned to the ground, eyes wide in betrayal. In the background, a ruined village smoldered, its people, its rookie recruits, all slaughtered not by the Covenant... but by the Church's own purging unit.
Achlys's voice, cold and calm, rang out over the feed:
"We offered a trade. You answered with massacre. This is your light. This is your justice. The world will see it now."
The projection ended. No one dared to speak.
At the head of the chamber stood Archbishop Maltheon, his expression carved from stone, eyes fixed on the frozen final frame of the recording. Behind him, several glowing runes flickered evidence that the video had already gone viral across several high tier worlds. Carthis. Ryorran. Even trade hubs like Ederra-8.
"It has already reached thirty-seven systems," growled Bishop Thorne, fists clenched. "We're calling it a heresy storm. But no amount of public denouncement is stopping the spread."
Maltheon's hands, glowing with searing divine light, curled tightly around the edges of his ceremonial lectern.
"You let this happen."
He turned, his voice rising, not in volume but in weight. "You sat in your temples, playing at war while these insects built an empire in the shadows. Now, with a single video, they have drawn blood from the image of the Church itself."
Bishop Valera stepped forward. "The ambush was not expected. Our intelligence was based on the assumption the Covenant would protect the rookies they kidnapped...."
"They did!" Maltheon thundered, slamming his fist against the lectern, causing a wave of searing light to crack the floor beneath him. "It was you who did not. And now, for the first time in centuries, we are not feared, we are questioned."
The Bishops bowed their heads. He let the silence settle like ash before continuing.
"You are being relieved of your autonomy."
A collective inhale.
"You will not act without oversight from my Voice. A task force will be constructed, and your fleets will respond under my direct coordination. We will find their leaders. We will take their strongholds. We will restore belief in Luminous, by fire or sword."
His voice dropped into a blade's whisper. "And should you fail me again, the Midnight Covenant will not be the only heretics I burn."
Underground Sanctuary – Noxis
The air beneath the crust of Noxis pulsed with quiet hunger. Faint red veins of chaotic mana coursed through the rock, whispering power into the walls of the Midnight Covenant's sanctum. It was here, beneath a B-tier world scarred by war and abandoned by the Church, that Nidhogg stood watching the newest chapter of his growing rebellion unfold.
But it was not here that new blood arrived.
Gerald approached, wiping soot from his gloves as he stepped beside Nidhogg. "The traders from Varnos delivered the latest shipment. Mana stones from fallen demons, runes that increase, even a light-warped spear from the Siege of Pelas. And one more thing..."
He held up a sealed rune inscribed on blackstone. The carvings shimmered faintly with abyssal energy, ancient and wrong.
Nidhogg's gaze narrowed. "Is it what I think it is?"
Montgomery hobbled forward, his cane tapping out a low rhythm. "According to the Varnosi, it's called the Sigil of Beckon. Banned centuries ago. Rumored to summon demons directly without need for a portal."
"Rumors often hold truth buried beneath fear," Nidhogg murmured. "We'll test it when the time is right."
Montgomery nodded. "I'll see that it's examined by our ritualists. Quietly."
Planet Deralis VI
A massive station on a captured C-tier world now under full Midnight Covenant control. Once a Church supply hub, it had fallen in a quiet raid a month ago and had since become the staging ground for all non-vetted Covenant activity. New recruits, trade envoys, and black-market emissaries passed through daily.
Phoenix stood before a large crowd of fresh faces, each marked by desperation or fury. Some were former mages hunted for their affinity. Others were scavengers, mercenaries, or exiles seeking purpose. They gathered in the station's hollow hangar, awaiting judgment.
"You are not Covenant," Phoenix said, her voice echoing. "Not yet."
She lifted her hand, revealing a glimmering mark of Nidhogg's soul-mana burned into her ring. "You stand in the ashes of a dead faith. The Church sees you as filth. So prove them wrong. Survive the crucible."
She turned to the gathered trainers from Carthis, from a dozen hidden battles. "Put them through it."
Behind her, an enormous transport pulsed with internal shielding, Its cargo filled with supplies and gifts from the Covenant's new allies: mana-forged blades, fractured light weapons, and forbidden tools much like the Sigil of Beckon, hidden in armories waiting for clearance. Only a handful would make it through the trials alive.
Back on Noxis – Inner Sanctum
Those who survived were marked, evaluated, and offered passage to Noxis.
Nidhogg watched each trial personally through rune -bound relays. His voice echoed through the chamber: "Their hatred for the church fuels them."
Gerald folded his arms. "We've had six promising fighters this week. One showed signs of attunement to dark mana. Another killed a light mage with her bare hands."
"They'll do," Nidhogg replied. "However we should remain vigilant."
"Yes. I too fell an uneasiness. While it's true that good fortune has come our way, we can just as easily lose everything." Gerald says.
"Whatever do you mean?" Montgomery asks.
"The idea to use another planet to house those who wish to join us was the most splendid idea, however, there is no way for us to see if they are true." Odin explains.
"Ah i see. We're vulnerable to spies." Montgomery understands.
"We should prepare ourselves, as the church is sure to act. While this time lasts, we should gather as many resources as we can." Nidhogg advised. Can't win a war with finger guns.
"I will continue finding rituals and relics that suit us." Gerald says.
"My eyes will be on the church. If they make a move, you'll be the first to know." Odin says.
Nidhogg grunts in response, tired of communing with them. He did take a second, however, to appreciate actually having help in this life. If he tried to do all of this alone, he no doubt would have been captured or killed by the church ages ago. But he would never voice those opinions out loud. He had a reputation to keep.