Another fruitless day, another nightfall without sustenance. Starvation loomed, as it often did. Lief's breath hitched in frustration, yet he quelled the urge to curse. He wasn't alone in his plight; millions shared this forsaken world, Earth, now a hollow shell of its former self.
He bounded over heaps of rusted metal and ashen debris, remnants of a civilization that long since fallen. Beneath the skeletal remains of buildings, he crawled through labyrinthine tunnels, remnants of steel slabs stacked upon one another and weathered by millennia. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, horrible, shadows, he glimpsed a flicker of light from within the labyrinth of tunnels.
A refuge? he wondered.
Venturing deeper, he discovered the source: a pulsating orb, its bluish glow flickering like a dying ember. The light bathed the surrounding steel in an eerie, eldritch, sheen. Instinctively, Lief knew this was no ordinary illumination. It felt alive, breathing---sentient.
What is this thing? he pondered, a chill creeping down his spine.
Compelled by a mix of human curiosity and desperation for power, he reached out, his fingers brushing the orb's smooth surface.
Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his skull, and the world around him fragmented. He cried out for help, but the small sound was swallowed by an overwhelming silence. When his senses returned at last, he found himself in a realm of paradox: darkness so profound it consumed light, yet filled with such enlightening brilliance that shadows seemed to fade.
Eyes--countless, unblinking--hovered in the air, their gaze penetrating, omniscient, as they gazed into his soul.
"Welcome, Saint," a voice resonated from all directions, its tone both alien and familiar. Lief's body reacted involuntarily, a deep, primal urge to kneel, to submit.
He staggered back, heart pounding with fear. "What are you?" he demanded, voice trembling from terror.
Skeletal fingers ripped open a tear in reality. A figure exited from the rift, tall and cloaked in shadow, its face a black abyss. Its mere presence distorted the very fabric of reality. It leaned in, featureless visage studying him with unsettling curiosity. A mouth formed from the face. Its teeth, which gleamed like polished ivory, distorted into a sadistic curve.
"I am..." it intoned, the words stretching unnervingly. "The Prophet."
Its hand extended, fingers long and unnaturally slender, lifting Lief's chin with a grip that was both gentle and unyielding. "I shall be your teacher, your guide, in your training to realize your potential."
"Why me?" Lief gasped, panic rising. "Let me go. I don't belong here. I belong in Earth." His mind raced--What had he done something to deserve this? Or was this the universe's cruel joke, dragging a man from an abandoned world to play savior?
The Prophet's smile widened, unsettling in its perfection. "You are... the Saint. The one who shall continue the Seraphic Path. I am merely here as your guide, and as your predecessor."
With a sudden motion, the Prophet dragged Lief through the void, the textured ground beneath them a shifting mosaic of clear glass. In the distance, a door materialized, its edges jagged, as if reality itself had been torn.
"You shall train here," the Prophet declared, its voice reverberating in the void. "In the Lattice of Fate."
As they approached, the door swung open, revealing a realm even darker, its pathways winding like veins, like arteries, leading to platforms of pulsating flesh, each crowned with a portal to an unknown world. The air was thick with an acrid scent, and the ground beneath was slick, alive.
The Prophet released Lief from its grasp, its form beginning to dissipate. "You are far too weak," it rasped. "But here, you will become what you must."
And then, as silently as it had appeared, it was gone.
"Please come with me." A voice suddenly beeped from behind Lief. "Do not be afraid, Saint. I am Unit R-607, also known as Rhysa. I will be your teacher." The being that had appeared... It was unsettling, yet angelic, powerful. A ball of warm, furry material, with 6 feathered wings. A single, sky blue eye was embedded in the middle. This new entity, likely female, was warmer, more welcoming. "I have run simulations based on data given by Master. I have decided that you need explanation of this situation."
"Yes I do, I need a lot, in fact." Lief replied to the more compassionate entity, at least compared the Prophet.
"After several centuries of examination by Master, you have been chosen to be the Saint. The Saint, as I believe Master stated earlier, is the one who shall continue the Seraphic Path started by Master. As Master did, you must be prepared to sacrifice everything, even yourself, for the greater good of mankind, in exchange for being Favored by Fate. Master understands that you are much too weak. To combat that fact, he has organized the Lattice of Fate, which will prepare you and train your Psyker abilities."
Lief understood now. His mind singled out a single point of Rhysa's explanation. Psyker abilities. Psykers, the god-like beings who ruled the Republic. Out of the Republic's trillions of citizens, less than a billion are Psykers. He wondered which type he would become. An Empath(communicators)? A Fluxcaster(reality controllers)? A Shapeshifter(form changers)? A Psychomancer(mind manipulators)? Or perhaps even one of the legendary Seers(future predictors)?
"Upon further inspection, we have decided that you are curious about what Psyker archetype you potentially are," Rhysa said. She scanned Lief's body, consulting her Master about the data. "You have potential in the following archetypes: Energiach, Shapeshifter. You also have untrainable abilities in the Seer archetype. You can only predict a few seconds into the future. Useful for battle, but not larger scale."
"Continuing from earlier, you must want to know what the Lattice of Fate is." Rhysa understood Lief's desires, her Master had informed her earlier. "There are 101 nexuses in the Lattice. Each nexus is connected to a portal, which shall transport you to a parallel dimension. Nexuses are connected via paths. On the paths, you must constantly expend power in order to remain alive. Every 10 nexuses, and at the first and last nexuses, Master will allow you one question, about anything. Master will also offer you choice of items, powers, or modifications."
"Good luck on your journey," Rhysa told Lief, flying away. Her disappearance revealed the vast network that was the Lattice of Fate.