Eve sat cross-legged on the library floor, a thick book spread open on her lap, while Lysander sat beside her, talking animatedly.

  "—and then my mom would make this stew, right? It wasn't like the slop we get here. It actually tasted like something. She'd add these spices she got from the market, and it would smell so good that you could smell it from three rooms away—"

  He paused, suddenly looking self-conscious. "Sorry. I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

  Eve blinked at him, her red eyes calm and attentive. She'd been listening to him for nearly twenty minutes straight—stories about his old home in Hive Secundus, the things he used to do, the people he knew.

  Most children would have gotten bored. Eve seemed genuinely interested.

  "Don't mind," she said simply.

  Lysander brightened. "Really? Okay, cool. So anyway, my dad worked in one of the manufactorums—not the big ones, just a small one that made parts for vehicles. He'd come home all covered in grease and oil, and my mom would make him wash outside before he could come in for dinner—"

  He continued talking, gesturing with his hands, his enthusiasm infectious.

  Eve listened, her head tilted slightly, processing.

  Then she interrupted quietly. "Family."

  Lysander paused. "Huh?"

  "Tell more... about family."

  Lysander's expression softened. "Oh. Well, I had a mom and a dad. And a little sister—she was only three. Her name was Mina."

  Had. Past tense. Eve noted that but didn't comment.

  "Mom took care of us," Lysander continued, his voice quieter now. "She cooked, cleaned, made sure we did our chores. She was really good at fixing things too—like when my shirt tore, she'd sew it back together. And she sang sometimes when she was cooking."

  "Father?"

  "Dad worked. He was gone most of the day, but when he came home, he'd play with us. He taught me how to fix things, how to use tools. He said one day I'd work in the manufactorum too, just like him."

  Eve processed this, her brow furrowing slightly.

  "Mother... cooks. Father... works."

  "Yeah. I mean, that's basically it."

  Eve was quiet for a moment, then said carefully, "But... why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why... mother cooks? Why father works? Why not... same?"

  Lysander looked confused. "I don't know. That's just how it is? Moms take care of the home, dads work to earn money for food and stuff."

  Eve's frown deepened. She was trying to fit this information into her understanding of the world, but the pieces didn't quite connect.

  She'd never had a mother or father. Never had a home to take care of. Never understood the concept of family as anything other than words Lilith had explained.

  Lilith cares for me, she thought. Like a mother? But Lilith is my sister. And she teaches me, but she doesn't cook. And we don't have a father who works.

  It was confusing.

  "Don't... understand," she admitted finally.

  Lysander shrugged. "That's okay. It's just normal family stuff. Maybe when you get your memories back, you'll remember if you had a family too."

  Eve doubted that. But she nodded anyway.

  Lilith watched from behind one of the tall bookshelves, her right eye peeking around the corner.

  She'd arrived at the library a few minutes ago and had immediately spotted Eve and Lysander sitting together, talking—well, Lysander talking, Eve listening.

  And she'd stopped to watch.

  Eve is talking to someone else. Actually having a conversation.

  A warm feeling spread through Lilith's chest. Pride, maybe? Relief?

  Eve had been so isolated, so utterly disconnected from normal human interaction for her entire existence. Seeing her sit there, listening to another child's stories, asking questions, trying to understand...

  She's learning. She's becoming more than just a weapon.

  Lilith felt her throat tighten slightly with emotion.

  Then Eve's head turned.

  Smoothly, precisely, her red eyes locking onto the exact spot where Lilith was hiding.

  How does she do that?

  It happened constantly. No matter how quietly Lilith moved, no matter how carefully she tried to approach, Eve always knew when she was nearby.

  Some kind of connection between twins, maybe? Lilith had never had a twin as Maverick, so she had no frame of reference. But it made sense, in a strange way.

  Or maybe it's something else. Something to do with whatever experiments they did to us.

  Eve stood immediately and crossed the library floor to Lilith, reaching out to take her hand.

  Lilith let her, squeezing back gently.

  Eve stared at her with that intense focus that Lilith had learned to interpret—though she still wasn't entirely sure how she could read Eve's expressions when they were so subtle.

  Another connection thing, probably.

  The look said: You're here. I know you're here. Why were you hiding?

  Lilith smiled slightly. "I'm glad you can talk normally to other kids. That's good. You're doing really well."

  Eve's expression softened, just a fraction.

  Lilith turned her attention to Lysander, who had gotten up and was approaching them with his usual enthusiasm.

  "Hey, Lilith! Eve and I were just talking about families and stuff. She's a really good listener."

  "She is," Lilith agreed. "Hey, do you want to read with us? We were going to look at some books."

  "Sure!" Lysander's eyes lit up. "What are we reading about?"

  Lilith glanced at Eve, then back at Lysander. "Actually... the Salamanders. You mentioned them before, and I wanted to learn more."

  "Really? That's awesome! They're so cool!"

  The three of them settled into a corner of the library, and Lilith began pulling books from the shelves.

  Most were religious texts—prayers, liturgies, hagiographies of saints. But there were a few historical records and some basic Imperial educational texts.

  She found one labeled Heroes of the Imperium: The Emperor's Finest.

  Flipping through it, she scanned for any mention of Salamanders.

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  Most of the book was dedicated to glorious tales of Space Marine chapters—generic propaganda about their valor and devotion. But finally, she found a relevant section.

  The Salamanders of Nocturne

  The Salamanders are one of the Emperor's loyal Space Marine Chapters, descended from the noble Primarch Vulkan. They are marked by the Emperor's fire. Their eyes glow red like embers, and their skin darkens under their world's harsh sun—a result of Nocturne's unique radiation and volcanic environment. Unlike many of their brother chapters, the Salamanders are known for their compassion toward common citizens of the Imperium. They value human life and are often seen protecting civilians, even at great cost to themselves. They harbor a particular hatred for xenos, especially those who prey upon the weak.

  Lilith read the passage three times, her heart sinking with each pass.

  That's it? That's all the information?

  Nothing about their combat doctrine. Nothing about their gene-seed. Nothing about whether red eyes in non-Astartes could indicate some kind of genetic connection.

  Just basic, surface-level propaganda.

  Useless.

  "See?" Lysander said, leaning over to read the passage. "Red eyes! Just like you and Eve! I told you!"

  "Yeah," Lilith said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "You were right."

  Lysander beamed, clearly proud of himself.

  "They're huge!" he continued, launching into another enthusiastic rant. "The one I saw was like—like a walking tank! His armor was so green it looked like fire in the sunlight, and he had these flames painted on his shoulder, and when he shot his flamer, it was like the sun itself was burning the Orks, and—"

  He went on and on, his hands gesturing wildly to emphasize the size and power of the Space Marine he'd witnessed.

  Lilith let him talk, but her mind was elsewhere.

  Who would actually know more about the Salamanders? Who could I ask without seeming suspicious?

  Sister Mercy was the obvious choice—she was kind, approachable, and seemed to have a broader education than most of the other nuns.

  Sister Prudence might know something too, though asking her felt riskier. She was too perceptive, too likely to see through whatever excuse Lilith came up with.

  Sister Marian? The elderly nun who ran the small medicae ward? She might have knowledge of gene-seed and Astartes physiology...

  But Lilith would need a reason to ask. A plausible, innocent reason that wouldn't raise suspicion.

  I could use Lysander as an excuse. Say he's been talking about Salamanders constantly and I wanted to know more to help answer his questions.

  The thought made her feel guilty. Lysander was just a kid—enthusiastic, innocent, traumatized by the loss of his family. Using him as cover felt... wrong.

  But what choice did she have?

  It's survival. I'm not trying to hurt him. I just need information.

  She glanced at Eve, who was watching Lysander's animated gestures with calm interest, then back at the book in her hands.

  Now or never. I need to make a move before Sister Mercy gets too suspicious.

  The next few days passed in careful, calculated routine.

  Lilith, Eve, and Lysander became a regular trio during free time. They'd sit together in the library, or in the common room, or out in the small courtyard when the toxic air wasn't too unbearable.

  Lysander talked. A lot. About everything—his memories of home, his dreams of joining the Steel Legion when he was older, the Salamanders he'd seen, random stories about kids he used to know.

  Eve listened, occasionally asking one-word questions or offering brief comments.

  And Lilith watched, guided, and planned.

  She'd noticed Sister Mercy's presence more frequently. The kind nun would pass by their group with a warm smile, sometimes stopping to ask how they were doing, sometimes just observing from a distance.

  She's watching me. Trying to figure out if I'll slip up.

  So Lilith made sure to play her part perfectly.

  Polite. Well-mannered. Curious about normal things. Interested in Lysander's stories. Helping Eve learn.

  Just a normal five-year-old.

  Nothing suspicious here.

  It was during one of these sessions, late in the afternoon when the light filtering through the high windows was starting to dim, that Lysander made a discovery.

  They were sitting in a corner of the common room, Eve practicing her writing while Lilith reviewed prayers and Lysander drew pictures with charcoal on scrap paper.

  The shadows were growing longer, the room darker.

  And Lysander suddenly gasped.

  "Whoa! Look!"

  He pointed at Eve's face.

  Lilith looked up and immediately saw what he meant.

  Eve's eyes were glowing.

  Not just reflecting light—actually emitting a faint red luminescence, like hot coals in the darkness.

  Lilith's right eye did the same, she realized with a start. A faint golden glow from her left eye (the blind one) and a brighter red glow from her right.

  In the dim light, it was unmistakable.

  Lysander's mouth fell open. "That's so cool! Your eyes actually glow! Like, for real! Just like the Salamanders!"

  He was practically vibrating with excitement.

  "They really do have ember eyes," he whispered, awed. "This is amazing. You guys are like—like blessed or something! Maybe you really are related to them! Maybe—"

  "Lysander," Lilith said quickly, glancing around to make sure no one else had noticed. "Keep your voice down, okay? We don't want everyone staring."

  "Oh. Right. Sorry." He lowered his voice but couldn't keep the grin off his face. "But this is still really cool."

  Eve blinked at him, her glowing eyes calm and curious. "Cool?"

  "Yeah! Like—awesome! Amazing! You're special!"

  Eve considered this. "Special," she repeated, as if testing the word.

  Lilith felt a mix of amusement and concern.

  Great. Now Lysander thinks we're some kind of blessed miracle children. That's... actually not the worst cover story, but it could draw attention from the other children who thought we’re some sort of monsters and especially, from the others as well.

  Still, his enthusiasm was genuine and oddly endearing.

  Over the next few days, Lysander continued to bring up the Salamanders whenever the opportunity arose—asking Lilith if she remembered anything about Nocturne, speculating about whether the red eyes meant some kind of connection, telling more stories about the Space Marine he'd seen.

  And each time, Lilith gently steered the conversation, asking questions, showing interest, building the foundation for what she was planning.

  All the while, she felt Sister Mercy's gaze.

  Watching and waiting.

  Finally, during free time on the seventh day after Lysander's discovery, Lilith approached Sister Mercy.

  The nun was in the common room, supervising the younger children and repairing a torn robe with needle and thread. She looked up when Lilith approached carefully clearly getting used to walking alone, and her expression immediately brightened.

  "Lilith, dear. How are you today?"

  "I'm well, Sister. Thank you." Lilith folded her hands in front of her, trying to look shy and uncertain. "Um... could I talk to you about something?"

  Sister Mercy set down her sewing immediately, giving Lilith her full attention. "Of course, child. Anything. What's on your mind?"

  She thinks this is it. She thinks I'm going to confess something important.

  Lilith took a breath, then said carefully, "It's about the Salamanders. The Space Marines."

  Sister Mercy blinked, clearly not expecting that. "The... Salamanders?"

  "Yes, Sister. Lysander—the new boy who arrived a few weeks ago—he's been telling me and Eve about them. He says he saw one during the Ork attack. And he said..." Lilith gestured vaguely at her face. "He said we have the same eyes. Red and glowing, like the Salamanders do."

  She paused, letting that sink in.

  Sister Mercy's expression shifted—surprise, then thoughtfulness, then something that might have been understanding.

  "I see," she said slowly. "And you wanted to know more about them?"

  Lilith nodded. "I thought... maybe if we do have something in common with them, it might help me understand where I came from. Even if I can't remember, maybe there's a connection. I don't know. It probably sounds silly—"

  "It's not silly at all," Sister Mercy said gently, though there was a hint of something in her eyes—disappointment, maybe?

  She was hoping for a confession. Not questions about Space Marines.

  But Sister Mercy's kindness didn't waver.

  "The Salamanders are one of the Emperor's finest chapters," she said. "Noble, compassionate, fierce protectors of humanity. If you share any trait with them—even something as small as eye color—that's something to be proud of, not afraid of."

  She reached out and gently touched Lilith's shoulder.

  "But child, I must be honest with you. Having red eyes doesn't necessarily mean you're related to the Salamanders. Many people across the Imperium have unusual eye colors—mutations, genetic quirks, environmental factors. It doesn't always signify a deeper connection."

  Lilith nodded, trying to look disappointed but understanding. "I know, Sister. I just... I wanted to know more. In case it meant something."

  Sister Mercy smiled. "I'll tell you what I know, and if you want to learn more, we can look through the archives together. Would that help?"

  "Yes, Sister. Thank you."

  Sister Mercy gestured for Lilith to sit beside her, and she began to speak.

  "The Salamanders hail from the volcanic world of Nocturne. Their gene-seed—the genetic material that makes a Space Marine what he is—comes from their Primarch, Vulkan. The harsh radiation of Nocturne causes certain physical changes: darkened skin, red eyes that glow in darkness. These traits are unique to those who carry Vulkan's gene-seed."

  She paused, looking at Lilith thoughtfully.

  "But here's what you must understand, child. Space Marine gene-seed is sacred. It's carefully guarded, implanted only in chosen aspirants who undergo brutal trials and transformations. It's not something that could be passed down to children through normal means."

  Normal means, Lilith thought. But we're not normal. We're experiments. Failed gene-seed recipients.

  Sister Mercy continued. "What's more likely is that you and Eve have some other condition—perhaps a mutation, or a genetic inheritance from parents who lived in harsh environments similar to Nocturne. The galaxy is vast. Many worlds have radiation that affects the population in similar ways."

  She smiled gently. "Does that make sense?"

  "Yes, Sister," Lilith said quietly. "Thank you for explaining."

  "Of course, dear." Sister Mercy's expression softened with something like affection. "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to ask me about this. It shows you're starting to trust me."

  No, Lilith thought. I'm using you for information. But I can't let you know that.

  She managed a small smile. "You've been very kind to us, Sister. I'm grateful."

  Sister Mercy patted her shoulder. "That's what I'm here for, child. To guide and protect all of the Emperor's children."

  She stood, smoothing her robes. "Now, if you'd like, we can go to the archives together tomorrow during free time. There are some texts about the Space Marine chapters that might interest you. Would you like that?"

  "Yes, Sister. Very much."

  "Wonderful. Bring Eve and Lysander if you'd like. The more children who learn about the Emperor's greatest warriors, the better."

  Lilith nodded and excused herself, walking back toward where Eve and Lysander were waiting in the library.

  As she walked, her mind churned.

  Gene-seed. Vulkan's gene-seed causes the red eyes and dark skin. But I don't have dark skin—neither does Eve. And the Magos said our gene-seed was experimental. Modified.

  So what does that mean? Are we connected to the Salamanders somehow? Or is this just a coincidence?

  She didn't have enough information. Not yet.