BLACKED – DEFINITIVE BLACKED CLASSICS VOL.1 After long, hellish moments, the weight slid free. Txxx But in a galaxy that grinds even saints to dust, her greatest act of service would come not from battle — but from surrender. But still she did not cry out. “Make it worth it,” she whispered. But worse than pain was the silence she had to hold. Only two souls breathed in that silent chamber: Sister Roxy, stripped of everything but faith — and Priestess Verena, whose hands trembled despite decades of ritual calm. It was done. They threw her into a cell of rot and rust, where Brother-Sergeant Caelen hung in chains. Not metaphorically, but literally — enduring unbearable physical and spiritual pain to smuggle salvation through her own flesh. The Emperor’s wrath ignited anew. Roxy screamed. Her journey is one of devotion beyond pride, of suffering beyond honor. Roxy lay still, drenched in sweat, her face contorted in silent pain. Lights flickered. He was shaking — from the act, from awe, from the reality of what she had endured. She could not. The heretics believed she was a captured missionary — a discarded Sister cast off by the Ecclesiarchy. “Where?”
Her voice cracked. The heretics believed she was a captured missionary — a discarded Sister cast off by the Ecclesiarchy. Her vision swam. Nothing could prepare a body for this. Sister Roxy was not born a hero — she was forged into one, molded by pain, obedience, and the fire of devotion. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, lips
