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Between them lay the object: a power core encased in sanctified adamantium, roughly the size of a gauntleted fist. “We need to remove it.”

“Quietly,” she said. The belt muffled it only slightly as the edges of the capsule stretched her farther than she thought possible. She simply rolled onto her side and wept — not from shame, but from the knowledge that her body was no longer hers. A vessel. Caelen caught the capsule, cradling it like a relic. They threw her into a cell of rot and rust, where Brother-Sergeant Caelen hung in chains. The capsule slid in by degrees. She simply rolled onto her side and wept — not from shame, but from the knowledge that her body was no longer hers.