Chloe paced carefully through the dark-wood pews, her footsteps a small echo in the tiny chapel devoted to Saint Elana the Unbroken.

She approached the plain and simple altar and delicately lit several ornate candles. They illuminated an ancient and gnarled leather curio-box set on a faded velvet napkin. She straightened up, bowed to the box and blew out the match.

Inside the box was rumoured to be a relic of Saint Elana. No one cared this deep in the under-hive; basic survival consumed every waking minute for most of the people living down here. No one believed there was some holy relic hidden in CT-VII Sub Level IIb of the Hive.

Except Chloe. Chloe believed.

Set above the curio on an iron-bound stand was a bust of the Emperor forged in black iron, his face stern and unknowing as he gazed over the tiny chapel.

She looked beyond the Emperor at the faded stained glass window showing Elana, unshaken in her faith, even as a feral daemon ate her flesh. Chloe smiled up at the window despite its gory and blood-stained imagery. Imperial citizens know suffering, but none had endured like Elana.

Chloe stepped up to the tiny altar and intoned a quiet prayer to the saint, thanking her for another day of selfless service. She bowed deeply and placed her hand over her heart as she did so before turning and walking away.

As she got five steps down the aisle, she scowled and turned, returning to the altar and hurrying through the Imperial Prayer of Thanks before making a half-hearted sign of the Aquila over her chest. She frowned and looked deep into the Emperor’s eyes as she had done countless times on countless evenings, looking to the cold black metal for solace but finding only iron. He did not protect Elana; he was distant and weak.

Even the fleeting thought set her pulse racing. If the Emperor was so powerful and protected so many, surely he would strike her down for such thoughts? Minutes passed, and nothing happened.

As her pulse pounded in her ears, she acted upon a wild impulse and grabbed the bust of the Emperor, wrestling it onto the floor behind the altar with a heavy thump, her heart pounding with fervent fear as she did so. She stood in defiance for many minutes, awaiting divine judgment.

Again, nothing happened.

She approached the altar, and with trembling hands she reached and gently opened the curio box, the faded leather creaking and cracking as she gingerly lifted the lid.

Inside was an ornate brooch carved into the shape of an eye, adorned with precious gems and glittering with dust-covered gold. She smoothed her thumb across it, revealing a darkened opal at the centre as the pupil. She gasped in wonder, entranced by the beauty of it. She stood for many minutes staring at the jewels, enchanted by its beauty.

Suddenly the door opened and a robed figure stepped in and banged the door shut against the rainy night. The sudden boom made Chloe jump and snapped her out of her reverie with a start. The figure reached up and pulled off their rebreather, coughing heartily before sucking in a lungful of air and flipping back their hood to reveal their face. It was Battius, the priest.

‘Hello Chloe.’ He smiled, shaking rainwater from his hands ‘I’m here for the tithes.’

‘Oh,’ she said, bewildered by the sudden intrusion. She blushed deeply and hurried to the cabinet holding the coffers. She rummaged in the drawers for the meagre offering, clattering and muttering as she foraged in the strongbox.

‘Where’s the Emperor?’ Battius asked with a frown.

‘What?’ Chloe squeaked.

‘Where’s the Emperor Chloe?’ Battius said, his voice rising as he gestured at the missing bust.

‘Oh… Er. I took it down. To clean.’

Battius’ eyes grew wide, and the colour drained from his face, his mouth hanging open in shock.

‘You took it down?’ he said, incredulous. Minutes passed before he suddenly appeared to get a grip on himself and strode purposefully up the aisle, searching behind the altar. He found the Emperor face down on the floor and lifted the bust back into place, grunting with the strain. He was straightening it reverentially when he looked down and spotted the open box with the curio in it.

‘And what’s this?’ Battius gestured at the brooch with dismay.

‘Oh. I think it’s supposed to be the eye of Elana, the last piece of her to be devoured by a daemon. As the daemon ate the very last morsel of her, it also swallowed the light of the Emperor that resides in us all. The daemon was destroyed, but the blessed Elana had to die. He did not protect her.’ Chloe clenched her small fists as she spoke, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.

Battius made the sign of the aquila in shock before pointing at the brooch.

‘You put this in place of the Emperor?’ Battius hissed, dumbfounded with righteous anger.

‘No,’ Chloe yelled. ‘The Emperor was always there, and the box was always there, for as long as I can remember!’

Battius frowned and stared at her. After many moments, he held out his hand. Chloe stared at his palm.

‘The tithe, girl.’ His voice was gruff and cold.

She reached out with trembling fingers and dropped the coins into his hand.

‘Eleven pieces? That’s it?’

She nodded, her head bowed. He tucked the money in his robe before he turned and strode down the aisle, stopping to put on his rebreather before turning back. He raised his arm and pointed at her, his voice rasping and harsh through the heavy mask.

‘Deacon Gannaca will hear of this, so listen carefully, foolish girl,’ he growled, zealous fury dripping from every word. ‘The Emperor Protects.’

In the darkened curio box set on the lowly altar, the opal at the centre of the golden eye twinkled.