Warhammer 40k:The Lone Star

Prologue:Star Child

HIVE WORLD: Gilead

Within the lowest levels of a hive city, where crime and heresy run rampant, a small shack stands precariously above a sewage pipe. It is a crude structure, built from scavenged wood and scraps of metal, barely holding together amidst the filth and decay.

Inside, two figures reside. One is a man—his clothes are ragged, his long hair unkempt, and his body gaunt from hunger. The other is a child, no older than seven, his clothes oversized and worn but his body noticeably healthier, his hair groomed with care.

The man kneels before a crude statue of clay and mud, depicting a warrior clad in armor, a sword raised high as though proclaiming his might for all to witness.

*Mutter... Mutter... Mutter...*

He whispers his prayers in quiet devotion. Meanwhile, the child watches with a pout, arms folded in impatience.

"Father, when are you going to finish your prayers? I already finished mine," the boy grumbles.

"Patience, son. There will be enough time for you to make it to Sir Jacob's class," the man replies calmly, continuing his prayers.

The child huffs in annoyance, plopping down onto a thin mattress on the floor. He waits begrudgingly, kicking his legs idly as the minutes drag on.

Finally, his father finishes. With a quiet sigh, he rises to his feet, and together, they leave their makeshift home, heading toward Sir Jacob's monastery.

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Sir Jacob's Monastery

Sir Jacob was once a proud Guardsman, a veteran of the Imperium's endless wars. He had fought valiantly against a heretical uprising within the lower hives, cutting down traitors in the Emperor's name. But war is not without cost—he lost his right arm in battle, a wound that forced him into retirement.

With what little wealth he had earned as a soldier, he founded a monastery, a sanctuary for orphans left parentless by the endless conflicts that plagued the hive. Though he could no longer fight on the battlefield, he dedicated himself to shaping the future, teaching the children of the underhive how to survive in this cruel world.

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After an hour of walking—helping others when they could and carefully avoiding dangerous streets—they finally reached the monastery.

Standing before its heavy wooden doors, Sir Jacob waited, as if expecting someone.

Leon's eyes brightened with excitement.

"Sir Jacob!" he called out, dashing forward.

The old soldier smiled as the child embraced him, placing a gentle hand on his head.

"Good morning to you too, Leon," he chuckled, then looked up to greet the approaching man.

"Mr. Varkas."

"Sir Jacob."

They exchanged a firm handshake before Leon tugged at the old soldier's sleeve.

"Sir, come inside! I want to hear more stories about how you saved people!"

Jacob's smile faltered slightly, a shadow passing over his face. He turned to Mr. Varkas, his expression serious.

"Leon, go on ahead. I have something important to discuss with your father."

The boy pouted but nodded. Sir Jacob pushed open the monastery door, ushering him inside.

"This will only take a few minutes," he assured him. "Are you alright with that?"

Leon nodded again, more reluctantly this time.

Jacob ruffled his hair before closing the heavy doors behind him. The warmth in his expression faded, replaced with a grave intensity.

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### **POV: Sir Jacob**

I let out a quiet sigh, then motioned for Mr. Varkas to follow. We walked in silence, weaving through the winding streets until we reached a secluded alleyway near the monastery.

Glancing around to ensure no one was listening, I turned to face him.

"Mr. Varkas, I'm sorry to take up your time, but this is urgent," I said, my voice low.

He shook his head. "No need to apologize. If it's important, I can afford to be late for work."

I frowned. His kindness never ceased to baffle me. He was willing to risk punishment just to hear me out. It was that same kindness that had once saved my life on the battlefield.

But this time, it might be his undoing.

I pushed the thought aside and got straight to the point.

"There's been an increased deployment of Guardsmen in this sector of the lower hive," I said carefully.

Mr. Varkas' face darkened.

I continued. "The Inquisition has been cracking down on heretical activity. Numerous ritual sites have been uncovered and purged." My mind flashed back to the reports I had seen—mutilated corpses arranged in obscene patterns, drenched in sacrilegious symbols.

"That isn't all," I added grimly. "There have been confirmed sightings of... things. Entities lurking in the dark corners of the hive."

At those words, his eyes widened. He knew exactly what I meant.

I met his gaze. "This place isn't safe for you and Leon anymore. I've been warning every parent at the monastery to prepare to leave before it's too late."

Silence stretched between us as the severity of the situation sank in.

Finally, Mr. Varkas spoke, his voice filled with concern.

"Thank you for the warning. But… what about the other people living here? And what about you?"

I clenched my jaw. Even now, his first instinct was to worry about others.

Sighing, I placed a firm hand on his shoulder, my grip meant to ground him in the harsh reality of the situation.

"Some of them know and are already making preparations," I admitted. "But others? Either they refuse to believe the danger is real, or they have nowhere else to go."

His expression hardened. "Then we have to warn them! They deserve to know—"

I tightened my grip. "Listen to me, Varkas." My voice was firm, unwavering. "I know you want to help them. But right now, you need to prioritize your son. Leon needs his father. If you stay here trying to save everyone, you may end up saving no one."

His hands clenched into fists. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the war between his conscience and his duty as a father.

After a long silence, he exhaled slowly and nodded.

"...Alright. I'll start gathering what little we have and make preparations to leave." His voice was heavy, weighed down by guilt.

Relief washed over me, though it did little to ease the tension in my chest.

"Good," I said. "I'll try to keep things stable here for as long as I can, but…" I trailed off, glancing around. The air felt thick with something unseen, something wrong.

"I have a bad feeling about this," I muttered. "Something's coming, Varkas. And I fear it may be worse than another heretical uprising."

He stiffened but said nothing. We both knew the truth—the lower hive was teetering on the edge of damnation. One wrong step, and it would fall.

"Go," I urged him. "Take Leon and get out before it's too late."

He hesitated only for a moment before turning away, disappearing into the winding maze of the underhive.

I watched him go, hoping—*praying*—that he would succeed.

Because if my instincts were right…

Then no amount of faith would be enough to save us.

Not this time.

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