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Musings of Inquisitor Drefan Garangrios: "On the Redeemed Blood", Servoskull Audio-Dictat entry #1

I have pursued the Cult of Chittering Dawn for eighty years as it moved from one planet to another like a diseased flea, fleeing the Emperor's righteous judgement as carried by my vengeance-driven hands.

Patriarch Ubolithus Fthex. How he has mocked me all this while. Staying several steps ahead of my pursuit, killing or infesting innocents with but a single scratch. The bomb hidden within my neck is an ever-present reminder of my own readiness to die, and hopefully take him with me, rather than be administered his insidious touch.

I was so close to final victory on the agri-world of Vandrus V. I, my acolytes and a complement of Inquisitorial stormtroopers wiped out his latest nest and took out his cult for good... Or so it seemed. In the end my suspicions were correct: He successfully fled the detonating caverns in the very last moment with no more than ten of his misbegotten progeny, all while my acolytes rejoiced before the corpse of a body double.

I've spent many a restless sleep-cycle haunted by his taunting laughter. I've spent more vowing to be the one to tighten my hands about his turgid neck. But the Emperor saw fit to deny me that in exchange for... A surprising turn of events. Fthex has been felled and by his own hand no less; A new generation of all-female progeny who turned against him in favour of the Throne on Terra.

Discovering a windfall of medicae-archaeotech hidden deep below the dirt of Vandrus V, Fthex thought his cult saved in an act of divine intervention, using it to churn out a new generation of curiously all-female Genestealers. In truth, it appears said technology of the Old Night detected foul corruption in the genetic material he and his sons tainted the vat synthesizers with, scouring away the malign influence towards Tyranid obsession while optimizing any remainders considered beneficial.

Something he discovered far too late when his furious sons aggressively confronted these wives, daughters and mothers over their own sons being completely devoid of Genestealer corruption... All this while they overwhelmingly took to the Light of His Throne over the depraved promises of the so-called 'Star Gods'.

With this long chapter closed in my duties I have spent the past few years temporarily relegating myself towards the observance of these 'Anti-Genestealers': 'Genecleansed'? Through no easy task they have been granted a stay of execution in the form of a provisional abhuman classification, and remain to this day under extremely heavy watch.

This young Novitiate looks to me with uncertain eyes. She is keen to prove her humanity, and yet remains unsure how to do so. She is at the very eve of her prime where her prominent xenos traits will begin manifesting. An extra pair of arms? A tail? Hidden blades? An altered warp-presence striking pain, panic or frenzy to cultists? Whatever she gains will determine her future role.

There is no point in curious ruminations on what she will become: Her fate is for the Emperor alone to decide.

I must free myself of such idle thoughts and return to my duties. The bomb remains in my neck, for now.

Thought of the day: Bright and glorious is the Emperor's light to those born in darkness.

In no particular order:
The Novitiate

The Matriarch

The Apostate

The Dancer

The Tracker

The Warrior

Drawn by the one and only

Description
Musings of Inquisitor Drefan Garangrios: "On the Redeemed Blood", Servoskull Audio-Dictat entry #1

I have pursued the Cult of Chittering Dawn for eighty years as it moved from one planet to another like a diseased flea, fleeing the Emperor's righteous judgement as carried by my vengeance-driven hands.

Patriarch Ubolithus Fthex. How he has mocked me all this while. Staying several steps ahead of my pursuit, killing or infesting innocents with but a single scratch. The bomb hidden within my neck is an ever-present reminder of my own readiness to die, and hopefully take him with me, rather than be administered his insidious touch.

I was so close to final victory on the agri-world of Vandrus V. I, my acolytes and a complement of Inquisitorial stormtroopers wiped out his latest nest and took out his cult for good... Or so it seemed. In the end my suspicions were correct: He successfully fled the detonating caverns in the very last moment with no more than ten of his misbegotten progeny, all while my acolytes rejoiced before the corpse of a body double.

I've spent many a restless sleep-cycle haunted by his taunting laughter. I've spent more vowing to be the one to tighten my hands about his turgid neck. But the Emperor saw fit to deny me that in exchange for... A surprising turn of events. Fthex has been felled and by his own hand no less; A new generation of all-female progeny who turned against him in favour of the Throne on Terra.

Discovering a windfall of medicae-archaeotech hidden deep below the dirt of Vandrus V, Fthex thought his cult saved in an act of divine intervention, using it to churn out a new generation of curiously all-female Genestealers. In truth, it appears said technology of the Old Night detected foul corruption in the genetic material he and his sons tainted the vat synthesizers with, scouring away the malign influence towards Tyranid obsession while optimizing any remainders considered beneficial.

Something he discovered far too late when his furious sons aggressively confronted these wives, daughters and mothers over their own sons being completely devoid of Genestealer corruption... All this while they overwhelmingly took to the Light of His Throne over the depraved promises of the so-called 'Star Gods'.

With this long chapter closed in my duties I have spent the past few years temporarily relegating myself towards the observance of these 'Anti-Genestealers': 'Genecleansed'? Through no easy task they have been granted a stay of execution in the form of a provisional abhuman classification, and remain to this day under extremely heavy watch.

This young Novitiate looks to me with uncertain eyes. She is keen to prove her humanity, and yet remains unsure how to do so. She is at the very eve of her prime where her prominent xenos traits will begin manifesting. An extra pair of arms? A tail? Hidden blades? An altered warp-presence striking pain, panic or frenzy to cultists? Whatever she gains will determine her future role.

There is no point in curious ruminations on what she will become: Her fate is for the Emperor alone to decide.

I must free myself of such idle thoughts and return to my duties. The bomb remains in my neck, for now.

Thought of the day: Bright and glorious is the Emperor's light to those born in darkness.

In no particular order:
The Novitiate

The Matriarch

The Apostate

The Dancer

The Tracker

The Warrior

Drawn by the one and only