Swiftly, you turn away from marika and leave the room. It is time to prepare yourself for combat. Your hands are tracing over your scalp as you step into the elevator to the armoury deck.
As the elevator rushes through dozens of deck levels, you are already deeply into Adeptus Astra Telepathica Mantras, cleansing your spirit of noxious doubts and questions.
Recycled air kisses your cheeks as the elevator hatch slams open. In front of you is a plain corridor, with a gilded floor and seamed by icons of imperial faith.
With slow motions you take step after step towards the sole distant gate of the corridor. With each Icon of a Saint that you pass, you take off one of your clothings. Saint Celestine, there go your shoes. Saint Bernard. your coat is tossed away.
Throughout the whole procedure, your eyes keep being fixed straight forward. Saint Pius, your thorax is bare now, the golden door keeps aproaching you in the slow tact of your feet.
You feel sophisticated targeting mechanisms and threat assessors scan your body. Two integrated multilasers, enough to vaporize a squad of light infantry in an instant, swing around to point at your head.
Saint Thor. Naked, you come to a stand before the golden door, which, as you now can recognize is carved with pictures of Martyrdoms in the Name of the Emperor. Retina Scanners and genecoders checking you, you hold your gaze stoically under the threat of the two Laser weapons.
Finally, the Turrets sweep back with a faint *thum and the Portal sweeps open.
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