Quoted By:
You were The Undersecretary of The Administratum. You’ve faced hardships many times. No foes ever made you stumble. By Emperor, you won’t let this ordeal defeat you. Then The Emperor answered, with a utility cart standing itself. You took the cart and dragged it to the longest stretch of the hallway. Yes, you know what to do. You first ran fast as possible with the cart in the front and you-
<span class="mu-i">WHEEZED</span>
Whoo. Easy there. You steadied your heart and closed your eyes tight. Your heart beat like a war drum, and your breath squeezed out as if came from rusted pipes. With all the fresh air, you thought you could run. But as always, this accursed body of yours failed you again. You may be an intellectual, have perfect memory, beautiful, kind, gentle, compassionate, loving, and all around a great human-
“Ma’am are you alright?”
“DO I LOOK ALRIGHT TO YOU TROOPER!”
The price was this body of yours. Frail and weak, with a variation of an ancient sickness known as “asthma,” along with some other sickness the Hospitallers could not identify all those years ago. All they told you was that it was the Emperor’s mercy that you kept on living. Steady, like a quill on parchment. You close your eyes tight and let the pain flow out with exhales that escaped between your clenched teeth. You exhale once more, then breathe, then turn to realize the Tempestus was gone. Only to return with a Hospitaller with a stern glare.
“Hey… Testatus.”
She continued to glare. Sister Superior Testatus, she and other sisters were attached incase your illness got worse.
“Room. Rest. Now.” She said.
>“You’re not my boss. And also, you’re gonna help me push this cart while I’m on it.”
>“No.”
>“Alright fine…”
>Write-in
