Welcome to Hell, Maggots!
The buzz and drone of the Hive City Erde quiets as he enters the dingy office building, the man glances again at the slate brought to him by the Cherubim. He IS in the right place but the heading seems to imply this building should be elsewhere. The summons of The Holy Ordos of the Emperor’s Inquisition, the man’s face still puzzles when he looks at that. Why any Inquisitor would wish his presence is beyond him and makes his mind reel at the possibilities, but the slate’s weight is a reminder and anchor of how real this all really is.
Approaching the grav-lift and entering the man glances down at the slate and hits the appropriate floor number and lift shudders to life, it’s machine spirit seemingly old or crippled or both. The trip up isn’t too long but is unnerving the lift seemed to lose and gain speed as though slowing to let someone else on but then picked up again never actually stopping until he arrives at his floor.
This floor is a surprise as perhaps the exterior was meant to be camouflage, but the flickering florescent lights, stained ceiling tiles and constant rattle of some air duct is proof of how run down this building is. Moving on to proper office he opens the door to be greeted by a waiting room with a few steel chairs and a leak dripping on to a table in the corner. The man takes a second glance, no receptionist, human or servitor, so he takes a seat hoping that this wasn’t some joke or he didn’t screw up the directions somehow.
Hours passed until finally the door opens and out steps a man garbed like an Imperial Commissar