Chapter 4: Aftermath
Darkness.
Not the simple absence of light, but something deeper. Heavier. A darkness that moved, that breathed, that watched with eyes that weren't eyes.
Lilith floated in it, weightless and terrified.
She doesn't know this place yet it felt familiar like a liminal space. But oddly comforting yet extremely disturbing.
The Warp. The Immaterium. The Sea of Souls.
No. No, I don't want to be here. Let me out. Please—
But she couldn't move. Couldn't close her eyes—did she even have eyes here? Or was she just awareness, naked and exposed in this impossible space?
Colors that shouldn't exist swirled around her. Sounds that weren't sounds whispered at the edges of perception. And beneath it all, that overwhelming sensation of being observed.
Something vast was looking at her.
No—multiple somethings. Presences so massive they made her feel like an ant staring up at mountains, except these mountains were alive and aware and hungry.
She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
Her mind began to fracture at the edges, thoughts splintering like glass under pressure. Too much. Too vast. Too wrong. The human brain—even this strange, engineered child's brain—wasn't meant to comprehend this.
No! No! No! I'm going to lose myself. I'm going to—
A pull.
Gentle at first, then stronger. Something tugging at her, drawing her back, away from the abyss.
The presences noticed. She felt their attention sharpen, focus, intensify. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, layering over each other until they became a cacophony of intent rather than words.
Stay.
Come.
Join.
Ours.
OURS.
The pull yanked harder.
The presences surged forward, reaching for her with appendages that existed in too many dimensions at once.
And then—
Nothing.
Eve sat on the cold metal floor, cradling Lilith's unconscious body against her chest.
Her twin's breathing was shallow but steady. The strange golden glow that had poured from her left eye was gone now, the eye closed, the connection severed.
Eve had done that. She'd touched Lilith, and the wrongness had simply... stopped. Like a door slamming shut.
She didn't understand it. Didn't need to.
Lilith was alive. That was all that mattered.
Eve's expression remained blank, but somewhere beneath the emptiness, something twisted uncomfortably. Worry, maybe. She wasn't sure. Emotions were still new, still strange, still difficult to parse.
How long had it been?
Minutes? Hours?
Time felt slippery, meaningless. Eve didn't move, didn't let go. She just held Lilith close, feeling the warmth of her twin's body, the faint rhythm of her heartbeat.
Come back, she thought, though she didn't speak the words aloud. Please come back.
The ship was silent now. No alarms. No servitors. No voices.
Just the low hum of distant machinery and the occasional creak of settling metal.
Eve stared down at Lilith's face. Her twin's features were delicate, almost fragile. Long black hair—so different from Eve's own short, cropped strands—spilled across Eve's lap in tangled waves. There was a faint crease between her eyebrows, like she was troubled even in unconsciousness.
Eve reached up with her free hand and gently smoothed it away.
Wake up.
Lilith's eyes snapped open.
She gasped, dragging in air like someone who'd been drowning, her body jerking upright—or trying to. Strong arms held her in place, and for a split second, panic flared.
No, not again, not the servitors, not—
"Lilith."
The voice was soft, familiar. Close.
Lilith's vision focused, and the panic drained away in an instant.
Eve.
Her twin was right there, holding her, those glowing red eyes staring down at her with an intensity that should have been frightening but somehow wasn't.
Lilith felt her face heat, a flush creeping up her cheeks. She was pressed against Eve's chest, their faces only inches apart, and the intimacy of it was—
Get it together. Not the time. Focus.
She took a shaky breath and forced herself to calm down. Her heartbeat was still racing, but the frantic edge was fading.
"Eve," she managed, her voice hoarse. "You... you're okay."
Eve blinked slowly, her expression unchanging. "Yes."
Lilith swallowed. Right. Okay. Compose yourself, Maverick—no, Lilith. You're Lilith now. For now, maybe.
Focus on the situation. Assess. Think.
She carefully extricated herself from Eve's grip—though her twin seemed reluctant to let go—and sat up fully, taking stock of her surroundings.
The disposal chamber. Cold metal walls. The slab she'd been strapped to, now empty. And beyond the torn-open doorway...
Nothing.
Silence.
"We need to get out of here," Lilith said, forcing her voice to steady. "Before anyone catches us. Before—"
"No one."
Lilith blinked. "What?"
Eve tilted her head slightly, her red eyes unblinking. "No one... alive."
The words took a moment to sink in.
"What do you mean, no one's alive?"
Eve reached out and squeezed Lilith's hand. The contact was warm, grounding, and Lilith found herself squeezing back instinctively.
Then Eve spoke, slowly, carefully, as if each word required effort.
"Everyone... twisted."
A pause.
"Except... me."
Another pause.
"Died... immediately."
Lilith stared at her twin, trying to process that. "Twisted? What do you—"
"Bodies... wrong." Eve's brow furrowed slightly, the first real expression Lilith had seen on her face. "Metal... flesh... twisted… together. Not... supposed to."
Oh god.
The memory was hazy, fragmented, but pieces were starting to come back. The panic. The fear. The sensation of something opening inside her mind.
"Who... who did it?" Lilith asked, though some part of her already knew the answer.
Eve lifted her other hand and pointed directly at Lilith.
"You."
The word hung in the air between them.
Lilith's breath caught. "I... what?"
"Almost... lost you." Eve's voice was quieter now, and her eyes—those eerie, glowing red eyes—shifted into something that looked almost like guilt. Sadness. "You... opened something. Wrong. I... stopped it. But everyone... gone."
I killed them.
The thought crashed into Lilith with the weight of a collapsing building.
I killed everyone on this ship.
Her hands started to shake.
"I—I don't—"
Eve squeezed her hand again, firmer this time, and Lilith's spiraling thoughts stuttered to a halt.
She looked up at her twin, and Eve was staring at her with that same intense focus.
"Saved you," Eve said simply.
Lilith swallowed hard. The guilt was still there, a heavy knot in her chest, but beneath it...
Gratitude.
She squeezed Eve's hand back, clinging to that connection like a lifeline.
"I don't remember what happened," Lilith admitted quietly. "I remember... seeing something. Feeling something. The Warp, I think. I must have—" She stopped, the realization settling over her like a shroud. "I awakened as a psyker."
But that didn't make sense. Her left eye was still blind. She didn't feel different. There was no lingering sense of power, no connection to the immaterium that she could detect.
She reached up and touched her left eye, the one the Magos had called a "Navigation Eye."
Nothing.
Just... blind.
"I know you saved me," Lilith said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Even if I can't remember exactly what happened. Thank you, Eve."
Eve didn't respond with words. She just nodded once, then leaned closer, resting her forehead against Lilith's shoulder in that same gesture from before.
Seeking. Comforting.
Lilith let her, wrapping one arm around her twin's shoulders.
For a moment, they just sat there together in the silence of the ruined ship.
But Lilith's mind wouldn't stop working.
This is insane. All of this. Everything that's happened—it feels like a nightmare. Like I'm going to wake up any second and be back in my apartment, staring at my monitor, wondering why I had such a fucked-up dream.
But it wasn't a dream.
This was real.
She was in Warhammer 40k. In a child's body. With gene-seed implants and a twin who was some kind of super-soldier Blank.
And she'd just killed everyone on this ship.
I need to understand this. I need to figure out what's happening.
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look Eve in the eyes.
"Eve," she said carefully. "Will you listen to me? Even if what I say sounds... strange?"
Eve nodded without hesitation.
Lilith took a breath.
"I'm not... I'm not from this world."
Eve blinked, her head tilting slightly in confusion.
"I mean—" Lilith struggled to find the words. "My name wasn't always Lilith. Before I woke up in that tank, I was someone else. I was... Maverick. Maverick Langley. I lived in a different place. A different universe. And then I went to sleep, and when I woke up, I was here. In this body. In your world."
She watched Eve's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction.
Eve's expression didn't change. She just stared at Lilith with those unblinking red eyes.
Then she spoke, slowly and deliberately.
"Maverick... is Lilith."
Lilith shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Maverick was me. But Lilith—this body—it's not. I'm not—" She hesitated, then forced herself to continue. "I might not even be your real twin. This body was asleep for five years. Maybe... maybe Lilith never woke up. Maybe I'm just—"
"No."
The word was firm, absolute.
Eve reached up and placed her hand over Lilith's chest, right above her heart.
"You... twin."
Lilith opened her mouth to argue, but Eve continued.
"I... felt you. When you woke. Here." She pressed her hand more firmly against Lilith's chest. "Connection. Real."
Her eyes met Lilith's, glowing bright in the dim light.
"You... are Lilith. My twin. Mine."
The conviction in those words—the sheer certainty—left Lilith speechless.
She wanted to argue. Wanted to explain that it was more complicated than that, that she didn't belong here, that she was just some random guy who'd gotten thrown into this nightmare by cosmic chance or cruel fate or—
But looking into Eve's eyes, seeing that unwavering belief...
She couldn't find the words.
So instead, she just nodded slowly and squeezed Eve's hand again.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."
They sat in silence for another moment, still holding onto each other, still drawing comfort from the connection that neither of them fully understood.
And then Lilith's stomach growled.
Loudly.
The sound echoed in the quiet chamber, absurdly mundane against the backdrop of death and cosmic horror.
Lilith felt her face heat up again. "Um."
Eve tilted her head, blinking once. "Hungry?"
"...Yes."
Eve's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes softened slightly. "Me... too. Used to it."
Used to being hungry. God, what kind of life has she had?
Lilith pushed herself to her feet—her legs were shaky, but they held—and offered her hand to Eve.
"Then let's find some food."
Eve took her hand and stood, and together, the two of them stepped out of the disposal chamber and into the silent, twisted corridors of the ship.
They had no idea what they'd find.
But at least they'd face it together.