“Rise.” the chaplain commanded, his vox-altered voice turning into a snarl.
The captain rose, unable to resist the commanding tone of his brother. He kept his head bowed, reverently looking at the ground.
“Ysolld was your name.’ the chaplain continued. ‘But Ysolld you no longer are. By His will you are reborn as Ysolld Rex, Flesh Captain of the Void Geists, Master of the Guard, the Living Prince. The Purple Mantle is the highest honor ever bestowed on a living warrior. Bear it with pride. Bear it with humility, lest He will enact His will on you, stripping you of honor and life. You are us, Ysolld Rex. Bear our colors with pride. Let the galaxy know the Void Geists still live! Let the galaxy know we still serve! Let them know we will serve until the end of times!”
At these words the chaplain ritually embraced the young captain, sealing his new rank. Ysolld Rex only now dared raise his eyes, white eye lenses meeting red ones.
“Make us proud Ysolld Rex. I vouched for you, and I know you will not let us down.
- Yes brother. I will uphold the honor of the chapter until the day I die. None shall soil it as long as I draw breath.”
The chaplain bowed his head, giving the sign of the Aquila as Ysolld Rex turned on his heel, leaving the chapel to meet with his men.