were young then, and were being greeted and taught by the first and those who followed him. Carefully they were aided, assisted, given knowledge and wisdom, and raised to the stars.
'But there were many races, and the first could not find them all. We found some, hidden in dark places, where the first could not find them. We spoke to them, and promised them immortality if they would follow us. We told them how we could preserve their souls, and grant them new life in new bodies. We taught them how to do this.
'Many races accepted us, and swore fealty to us. Each race sent some of their number to come here and learn the ways of preserving souls. These became the first true members of the Order of Soul Hunters. Our leader, the first to be revived, named one the Primarch Nominus et Corpus, and to him fell the role of ruling the Soul Hunters. They would go out into the galaxy to find the great and the powerful at the point of death and preserve their souls, bringing them back to us that we might help them live again.
'Alas, we fell into darkness. Our leader, and all those who were continually returned to life were.... changed by their experiences. They had died hundreds, thousands of times, and each time they were reborn into the flesh, a part of their soul was missing. Our leader became mad. He became convinced that the first was gathering armies to destroy us, and deny to all the knowledge of immortality.
'Fleets were mustered, great ships that blotted out the stars, and we went to war. We killed billions, and we took their souls. Armies were raised against us. We landed on primitive worlds and subjugated their people to our whim. We landed on your world, before your first flight into space, and we hunted you in the night. It is small wonder that your people now fear us so much.
'Our Primarch believed in everything our leader said, utterly. He shared in our leader's madness. It was a terrifying time. We destroyed, and took those who did not wish to be preserved. We broke oaths sworn by our Order. We plunged the galaxy into horror.
'But there were some of us, some who still remembered. We knew there was a way to stop this, and so we began to act. We gathered together the souls of those we had taken, willingly or unwillingly. Leaders, thinkers, poets, dreamers, blessed lunatics. We brought them here to Cathedral, to the centre of the laboratory where we had first learned to stop death. We sealed the area and began to speak to them. These souls.... they were alive. We had placed them in bodies to make them immortal, but we had no need to. They were immortal, preserved in their soul globes. They could speak to each other, talk, dream....
'We began to bind these souls together, creating a.... sentience composed of them all. A unity, one single mind made up of a billion souls. We felt a sense of wonder as we heard this force speak to us. We had created the Well of Souls, a union of a billion lives. We let the Well of Souls judge us. The voices spoke to each other for long months, years even, as they reasoned. Finally, there was a consensus.
'By this time both our leader and the Primarch Nominus et Corpus had fallen in battle, and their soul globes were brought back to Cathedral to be given new form that they might continue the war. The Well of Souls refused to do that. The soul globe of the Primarch was implanted in the arch that marked the gateway into Cathedral. The soul of our leader.... was released, passing beyond the wall of death, never to return.
'The war was now over, and certain promises were forced from us by the Well of Souls. We were only to take the souls of the dying. We were never again to kill and then harvest. We would be preservers, not warriors. We would cease giving the souls bodies of flesh. They would instead be placed in wells of their own. Some here in Cathedral, others in small wells within our personal ships. Some we hid in places of sanctuary throughout the galaxy, where they would not be found.
'And above all, we were not to preserve the souls of our own Order. We were to die, to pass beyond. It had been our determination for immortality that had doomed us all, and so we would be denied what we gifted to others.
'Those who serve you now are the descendants of the Order of Soul Hunters first assembled by the second generation of the first race born to the universe. We live many lifespans, many thousands of years, but still we die.'
'You did not.'
'Ah, but I am not mortal as they are. I was once a mortal being, a mortal being who fought in that terrible war. I was born of the first race of the universe, and I was the first to swear my loyalty to the leader who cast us into damnation. I stood beside him in all things. When his soul globe was broken, I was still alive. I feared I would be killed, but another fate had been reserved for me.
'I became the conduit for the Well of Souls. I was the voice through which it spoke to our Order. I was a part of it, and hence a part of Cathedral. What you have seen and spoken to and called friend these last two years was merely a shell. My body is Cathedral, and now that you will take on my role I can return to it, my soul becoming one part of many.'
'Wait! Why me?'
'You were.... known to us for many years, almost from your birth. You remember at the climax of your assault on Earth, you were attacked and wounded and killed?'
'I remember.'
'One of our Fhedayar sensed your departure, and hurried to find you. He came upon your form and saw that a part of your soul remained, a tenuous connection to the body, a link formed by your anger and your determination to live. It was passing, though, and your soul finally departing.
'But I spoke to him. The Well of Souls spoke to him, and instead of preserving your soul as it fled, he helped guide it back into your body, renewing your life to fulfill a greater destiny.
'You are now our Primarch Majestus et Conclavus. The Well of Souls now speaks through you. Although it is everywhere within Cathedral, you should visit its chamber. The link will grow stronger with time.'
'Then.... I will become a Soul Hunter?'
'You always have been. You simply have not realised it.'
'I was.... the second Primarch Nominus et Corpus. The first was not of your race either. Who was he?'
'His soul globe died the day you came to us. His soul passed beyond, given rest at last. Among his own people he was a mighty warrior and a skilled diplomat, a poet even. His race was the one you now call.... Shadow.'
'Have I done any better than he did? I broke your sacred law.'
'All things change. Nothing can escape time. The Well of Souls has chosen you, in part because you can break laws in a noble aim.
'I must go now. Good fortune, Primarch. We will meet again I trust, a million years from now, when you too join Cathedral.' The image of the Primarch shimmered, and he stepped forward, walking off the edge of the pinnacle. Sinoval rushed forward and looked over. There was no sign of him, only the darkness of space.
He sat down and closed his eyes. He could feel the Well of Souls, he could identify the billion voices within it, he could even name them all. This knowledge came to him, and something within the spirits of Cathedral smiled.
He opened his eyes, and began to clean Stormbringer.
Consciousness returned slowly. That was not a mercy, not with the voices returning with it.
Some of them Talia thought she recognised. Friends, comrades, old lovers, whispers of forgotten pasts. Flashes of a life she had thought had passed her by.
Because of her disoriented state it took her a while to realise she was not secured. Twitching, she found the energy to raise her arm. It was not bound, nor the other one, nor her legs.
She had been laid on a small bed, a normal-looking hospital bed this time. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to focus her gaze on something, anything. It glared at her, a cold, sterile, barren sight. She looked around, and slowly, awkwardly, moving as if she were drunk, or as if her body were suddenly four times its age, she swung her legs over the bed and lowered herself awkwardly to the ground.
Her legs almost gave way. Leaning against the bed, she managed to hold herself steady. For the first time she noticed the foul taste in her mouth, and grimaced. She had been drugged. Some sort of tranquillising agent. A second booster injection probably, meant merely to keep her unconscious and prevent any earlier injections from losing their effect.
She forced a weak smile. Whoever these people were — IPX was the most likely candidate, but she had long
