Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

The encounter ended predictably. Elizabeth barely broke stride as she put the first one down. A clean headshot, his body collapsing in the filth. The others hesitated for just a second too long. A second was all she needed. By the time the last ganger realized he was alone, his comrades were cooling corpses. Elizabeth simply smiled as she stepped over the bodies, resting a boot on the chest of the one she'd left alive. "Keys," she said.

The terrified man practically threw them at her, trembling as Elizabeth casually plucked them from the air. A few minutes later, she and Anjie drove off in a freshly 'acquired' off-road vehicle, leaving the lone survivor to run for his life.

They reached civilization by nightfall. Aqua Mortis City—the only settlement on the planet that resembled actual order. Not because of any moral authority, but because the Hydroclad Consortium had its headquarters here. And so, within this lawless world, a single bastion of strict corporate control remained.

Elizabeth maneuvered the vehicle effortlessly through the neon-lit streets, pointing out landmarks as they passed. "That glass monolith up ahead—365 stories, tallest structure on the planet. That's the company's headquarters," she said. "We'll be heading elsewhere first."

"Where?" Anjie asked.

"A bar."

Anjie raised an eyebrow. "A bar? That's how we're getting information?"

Elizabeth smirked. "I told you—this is a paradise for criminals. In a place like this, Aqua Mortis City feels like sanctuary. A lie, of course—but one people desperately want to believe. That illusion of safety makes people relax. It dulls their instincts, lowers their guard. And with a few drinks in them, they'll tell you everything you want to know—without you even needing to ask."

The off-road vehicle pulled into an underground garage, hidden in a back alley. Elizabeth parked, stepped out, and strode toward an iron door in the corner. A battered neon sign flickered above it, glowing red and green. It read, "One Shot to the Head."

Elizabeth knocked in a deliberate rhythm. A metal window slid open, revealing a pair of cold, suspicious eyes. "Who the hell are you?" the voice behind the door demanded. 

Before Elizabeth could answer, something inside thumped. The man behind the door was gone—flung backward by a force unseen. A moment later, the iron door swung open fast, and a towering bald man in a black suit stood there, bowing deeply at the waist. "Sister," he said quickly. "Forgive the idiot—I'll deal with him later."

The moment the bald man had recognized Elizabeth's voice, he hadn't hesitated. Without waiting for an explanation, he had personally kicked the fool out of the way and rushed to open the door. Now, he could only hope his swift reaction was enough to appease her. Elizabeth looked up at him, her expression almost lazy. Then she chuckled. "Oh?" she mused. "So, he hasn't heard of me?"

The bald man broke into a nervous sweat almost instantly. His voice trembled as he forced out a laugh. "You must be joking, Sister. Who on this street doesn't know your name? That idiot is one of your biggest admirers—he just never expected to see the legend standing right in front of him." The young man who had been kicked aside scrambled to his feet faster than humanly possible. His back bent at a sharp angle as he bowed over and over again, forehead nearly touching his knees.

Elizabeth barely spared him a glance. "Forget it. I don't have time for this. Is the 'Bartender' here?"

"Yes, of course! Right this way." The bald man stepped aside, gesturing eagerly toward the door. As he did, his gaze flicked to the girl standing beside Elizabeth. A hint of curiosity flashed across his face, but he quickly smothered it.

Still, some questions needed to be asked."Who is this beautiful sister?" he asked, voice careful, measured.

Elizabeth's gaze sharpened. "And since when do you need to know who's following me?"

The bald man nearly collapsed. His head lowered in instant submission, his voice turning panicked. "No, Sister, you misunderstand! I would never presume—I am not qualified to ask such a thing! I only meant…" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "We must… have a name. A title."

Elizabeth's smirk was razor-sharp. "Then call her Big Sister."

The man nodded so quickly it was almost comical. "Of course! Big Sister, welcome! Please, this way—watch your step, the stairs can be tricky." He led them downward, their boots clanging against the metal steps. At the bottom, they reached a thick wooden door wrapped in layers of fabric, muting the noise beyond. The bald man pulled it open, and sound exploded into the hallway like a physical force.

The sheer volume slammed into them—a wall of pulsating bass, distorted guitar riffs, and screaming vocals. Anjie's reaction was instantaneous. Years of rigorous training kicked in as she instinctively sprang back, landing lightly on the balls of her feet, her posture lowering into a combat stance. Her back arched slightly, her muscles tensed, and her hand shot to the hilt of the blade at her waist. Then she realized—there was no attack. The shockwave wasn't a weapon. It was music.

Elizabeth stood utterly at ease, watching her with that knowing smirk—the same smirk she always wore when she was waiting for Anjie to figure things out on her own. Leaning in close, Elizabeth shouted over the din. "This is a bar, Anjie. It gets a little noisy sometimes. Relax."

Anjie clicked her tongue and muttered, "Like hell I'm believing you." But she removed her hand from her weapon all the same.

The two followed their guide into the underground establishment known as One Shot Headshot. The bar was alive. A chaos of flickering neon and shifting shadows, filled with writhing bodies and deafening music. At the center, a makeshift dance floor pulsed with shifting strobes, illuminating the crowd in brief flashes. People moved like lunatics, heads whipping to the beat, limbs jerking with fevered energy. A band howled on a raised platform, the lead singer screaming into a rusted microphone, his voice raw and ragged. And in the darkened corners, away from the light and sound, other things were happening.

Anjie saw everything. A man slumped in a booth, injecting something into his veins with a stained syringe. Another bent over a table, snorting a fine white powder through a hollowed-out metal tube. A pair of young lovers swayed together, tangled in each other's arms, oblivious to anything beyond their shared heat. Anjie's curiosity spiked. Her eyes roamed greedily, taking in every detail, every secret whispered in the dark. She nearly stopped walking, transfixed—until Elizabeth's hand clamped around her wrist and pulled. The girl shot her a glare. "What? I was looking."