'You will pay for this!', spat Sister Maria, a fledgling member of the Adepta Sororitas and the only survivor of her convent's failed assault.

The ceramite battleplate and ceremonial habit she once prized had been sundered and scattered about the chamber, discarded with a dispassionate flick; with it, her decency had been lain bare. Strength suited her feminine form, as fertile as she was robust; each muscle contoured and every curve emphasized. Rusted chains coiled about her wrists and ankles, biting deep and binding the loyalist in a rigid kneeling position, hands clasped behind her head. She would have thrashed and snarled with increased vigor had the pox-tainted gauntlet of her captor not held so firm upon her snowy crown.

A gurgling ooze spilt from the twisted vox-grill of the chaos champion's helm; a guttural groan before speaking, 'So much. Strength. Good for the Gift.' Perhaps he was once a man, a proud servant of the Imperium even, but no longer. Not for many millennia. Pallid worms wriggle between his armor's servos and bulbous veins pump with polluted, black blood.

Maria, naked in her form, choked back the urge to wretch. The acrid stench of her captor so rancid it bordered on debilitating. Her pride and faith lingered regardless, 'Decayed heretic! Kill me and be done with it, my Lord awaits!'

'No,' he groaned, every word deliberate and phlegmy, 'you have been. Chosen.' Every inch of the chamber dripped with puss, expelled from pustules of some alien, even warp-based, origin; such was the blessing of Grandfather Nurgle. The Plague Lord's champion understood this simple fact: Life beget life, and all had value in their comradery unto death. Then again, his very existence had long obscured such blurred boundaries. The Bilious One's own innards slipped past the corroded, bile-stained plates of his power-armor and snaked onto Sister Maria's shoulder; so much of the Gift, so little space.

A fragment of the battle-sister's faith waned at the gory spectacle and one soul-sundering realization: this Malignant Plaguecaster had no intention of killing her. Quite the contrary, he would fill the unitinited with the 'gift' of his Dark God; Emperor protect.