Editing The Corrupted Heart (section)

===Prologue===
“I’m telling you man, this freak was unreal! Mowed down half a dozen guys, and then kept going after taking a krak grenade to the face!”

“Yeah, right. Next thing you’ll tell us is that the Christmas Astartes is real. Pass the Lho’s, would ya?”

As the gangers shared a laugh, huddled around a lit barrel outside the compound’s main gate, a shadow shifted in a nearby alleyway. Seconds later, a massive chunk of rubble soared through the air, landing on top of the group before any could react. Screaming in agony, the sole survivor desperately began tugging at his trapped leg, only looking up when a shadow loomed over him. His face went pale as a ghost, eyes the size of dinner plates, as he stammered, “ T..The ff…fuck are you?” The shadow leaned down, gigantic, purple eyes coming into view as tentacles slithered from the mutant’s sleeves.  “I’m your worst nightmare…” came the low reply, right before the freakish appendages slipped around the man’s neck, snapping it instantly. 

Releasing her hold, Astra stood, glancing about the area as she quickly clambered over the chain-link fence. “Good,” she thought, dropping to the other side with a muffled thunk, “No problems yet.” This was short lived, however, as numerous scum ran out from the building, brandishing las carbines and shotguns.  In response, Astra’s “arms” slithered out once more, this time each wielding either a revolver or las pistol in its’ grasp. Four in all, she wasted no time in returning the fire that was directed at her, not even wincing as the lasers and bullets impacted her flesh.

“I don’t care if you have to shove a grenade up your collective asses! GET OUT THERE AND KILL THAT THING!” The men in the hive boss’ office departed, only for their corpses to be thrown through the door not moments later. Stunned, the ganger leader found himself opposite the hulking form of Astra, blood dripping down her limbs as two of her pistols leveled themselves at his face. “Where is she?” growled Astra, the boss sneering in response. “Your friend? I threw that piece of shit away, just like I should have done to yo…” He never finished his sentence, his brains scattering across the wall as both weapons discharged. Walking over to the mangled body, Astra unloaded twice more into the remnants of his head, whispering, “That’s for Miss Casona.”

After extricating herself from the former drug house, Astra wandered back to her home in the underhive. Though it was late, the few individuals that she came across quickly scampered out of the way, for fear of the bleeding, crying monstrosity that was lumbering towards them. By the time she reached the cardboard box that made up her abode, Astra had stopped weeping for her lost friend. Sitting beneath the flimsy material, she removed the arm she had taken from one of the gangers from her pack, chewing on it slowly. As she did, her wounds began to heal, the abnormal regeneration taking effect. Even though this was nothing new, something she had lived with her entire life, the entire affair still revolted her. Only consuming enough meat such that her injuries were no longer causing her great pain, Astra laid down, pulling the tablecloth that was her bed sheet over herself. Her last thought, before drifting off to sleep, was that she’d need to find a new sock and wires to make a new friend with.

The next thing Astra was aware of was the world shaking around her, rousing her to consciousness. Bolting upright, she came to realize that a robbed figure was outside, speaking to someone that she couldn’t see. “That’s right. Tore through the entire gang without a sweat. No, I haven’t made contact yet. Yes, see to it that she has a room out of the way, wouldn’t want the others to be unnerved.” Sticking her head out, Astra came to realize that the woman before her was not only a psyker, but an Inquisitor, judging from her clothing’s various marking and the rosette displayed on her upper chest. Dread filled Astra, worrying that the only reason such a pious authority figure hadn’t yet cleansed her for being a blight on the Empire was because they needed something. And when it came to the Inquisition, sometimes that something was worse than death, if the rumors were to be believed. 

Before Astra could react any further, the woman bent down to her eye level. Smiling, she began, “Well there, hello. I’m sorry I had to wake you up, but you’ve got a rather nasty bunch of gangers out looking for you. Any reason for that?” Astra gulped, eyes cast aside from the Inquisitor’s face, “N…No Mma’am. I mean, yes, yes Ma’am.” Her awkward stammering was met with laughter, “Well, which is it then?” Astra’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t much like feeling embarrassed, since that was all she ever had been allowed to feel since birth. Yet, as she bit her upper lip, this wasn’t a bunch of thrown rocks and insults. This was a person of authority, someone she had to bow her head to and obey, leaving her with little choice but to restrain herself. “Yes Ma’am. I…I may have killed some of their friends.” 

“And why did you go and do a thing like that?”

“They had taken one of *my* friends.”

Silence fell over the pair, then the Inquisitor stood, offering out a hand. “Well, let’s just say you’ve impressed me for the time being. I’m willing to give you a chance, though your other option is to stay here and be blasted to bits.” Astra’s eyes roved between the woman’s face and her outstretched hand. “She’s right”, Astra thought, “ I *don’t* have much choice in the matter, do I?” Extending her own arm, the tentacles formed a makeshift hand, which the Inquisitor used to haul her upright. “Welcome to the Inquisition, Astra.”