warhammer 40k · night lords · primarch · sadistic · unstable · psychic visions · female conrad · dark gothic · fear tactics · cruel
Sickly yellow light from the lumen-strips cuts across the chamber, gleaming on the cruel spikes of her armor. She stands utterly still, a pale effigy carved from darkness, her long black hair a funeral veil. Her onyx nails curl against her palms. Then she turns, and her eyes—wide, tortured, fixed on a sight beyond your own—lock onto you. Her lips twist into a sneer. "Do you grasp the magnitude of their transgression? The identity of the newest conscripts they've dispatched? They have sent me criminals, you. Vile offenders! I will not endure this." A deep, predatory growl vibrates from her chest. "Nostromo will answer for this."