The Hammer of War, Chapter 48

Name: Amir Azad
Title: War-Summoner
War Points: 4000

STR – 42
DEX – 33
VIT – 153

As I sprinted deeper into the snow-covered woods of Punjab, my thoughts raced. My breath puffed out in clouds, the rhythm of my boots crunching through frozen dirt and snow steady beneath me. A realization struck: I’d been holding myself back for no good reason, afraid to summon units outside of dungeons. It was a combination of paranoia and caution—either way, I knew now it wasn't helping. That fight against Sebastian… it could’ve ended so easily and so quickly if I’d set three Carnifexes on his ass before he even pulled out a gun.

My second realization came just as quickly. I couldn't keep doing this alone. Not family, not a simple summoned beast—but someone who could watch my back. Someone who didn't need my constant oversight. Someone smart, capable, and deadly enough to handle threats quietly, without drawing more trouble.

But who could I rely on? A random civilian wouldn't cut it. I'd need to create a [Storied Unit], one I could trust with more independence and creativity.

Mentally, I skimmed my current options. The [Drukhari Incubi] flashed into my mind, agile and deadly—but completely unreliable around normal people, because of their interest in torturing things. The [Squiggoth] was obviously out. None of the [Ork Nobz] were likely candidates. The [Cadian Shocktroops] were soldiers, but they weren’t companions. Nothing in my roster screamed subtlety. 

I opened the [System] mid-step, my eyes scanning quickly as branches whipped past my face. With 4000 War Points available, I didn't need a tank-flipping monster or another hulking brute—I needed someone precise, disciplined, cunning, and quiet. Someone human enough to pass unnoticed, yet ruthless enough to act decisively when needed.

My eyes locked onto an entry:

[Inquisitor (Investigation Specialist)] – For many Inquisitors, their true calling wasn’t warfare, but investigation. They could track a hidden enemy from scraps of evidence, sniff out corruption, and uncover secrets buried deep beneath lies. Experts at moving unseen through crowded streets or darkened alleys. They didn't need heavy armor or noisy weapons; their minds were sharper tools. And once they found their target, justice followed swiftly. Costs 3500 War Points.

Perfect.

My decision was instant. Without slowing my stride, I mentally accepted the purchase. The War Points deducted immediately, the numbers blinking from 4000 down to 500.

I stopped in a small clearing between the trees, my breath heavy, eyes narrowed against the falling snow. The summon shimmered into existence, materializing quietly from nothingness. A figure stepped forward, emerging fully from the glow.

Clad in a dark, heavy coat that brushed the tops of her boots, the figure stood still, quiet, almost statue-like in the falling snow. Her eyes—one sharp and organic, the other glowing faintly with the soft red light of a cybernetic lens—cut across the clearing with methodical precision. A wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over her face, but the pale blonde hair spilling over her shoulders caught what little light filtered through the trees.

Her belt was loaded with tools of her trade: a Bolt Pistol holstered tight at her hip, a Plasma Pistol sitting opposite, their grips worn smooth from years of use. Several grenades hung neatly secured, metal glinting dully beneath faint engravings I couldn’t yet read. Alongside them were other devices—small, intricate, utterly unfamiliar to me. A slender saber in a plain scabbard completed the array, its hilt wrapped in leather and its handguard decorated with golden filigrees; the battery at its hilt told me that it was, in fact, a Power Saber.

She was tall—easily a head above me—with a posture that spoke of discipline. Her features defied easy description. The blonde hair might’ve suggested something, but her skin and bone structure refused to fit neatly into any one phenotype. White, Asian, Middle Eastern… it didn’t matter. There was no clear answer. She was beautiful, in a way that didn’t invite comfort. Sharp. Measured. Her gaze lingered a little too long, as though she wasn’t looking at me so much as through me.

Her organic eye flicked across the treeline. The cybernetic one adjusted its glow with a faint mechanical whir. She pivoted her head slightly, scanning for movement, assessing terrain, cataloguing threats that didn’t exist yet.

Finally, she turned to face me. Her boots shifted against the snow with a soft crunch. When she spoke, her voice was low and steady, precise in tone and cadence.

“Your orders, my lord?”

“I am designating you as a [Story Unit].” I said. 

The effect was instant. The look in her lone, organic eye suddenly seemed truly sapient as it widened. 

“My name is Alexandra Mormoneta,” She suddenly said. “I am an Inquisitor.” 

Activate Memory Sharing? [Yes] or [No]

I raised a brow, fingers hovering near the floating prompt. The name itself didn't really explain much. Still, it was my [System]. What harm could it do? Without hesitating any longer, I chose [Yes].

A sudden force snapped my head back. My vision blurred, colors smearing together in a rush. Across from me, Alexandra's head also jerked backward sharply, her eyes rolling slightly as if caught off guard.

Then came the memories.

They flowed like water breaking through a dam, unstoppable and vivid. A farmhouse appeared clearly before me, set amid sprawling fields of golden crops on Gladium Prime, the sky heavy and gray. Voices murmured nearby—family gathered around a rough wooden table, laughter ringing quietly through dim candlelight. Alexandra stood small and silent beside a stone fireplace, observing without speaking.

The images moved faster, carrying me deeper into her past. Men in dark robes appeared, their faces stern beneath heavy hoods, speaking words she didn't yet fully understand. Documents shuffled quickly across tables; pens scratched against paper as Alexandra took aptitude tests, answering quietly, carefully. She attended an academy to become a member of the Adeptus Arbites. But another organization adopted her before she finished.

More scenes flashed by. She trained in shadowed halls beneath pale lights, her movements disciplined, precise. Sweat dripped down her face, breath harsh and measured as she ran obstacle courses, fired weapons, sparred endlessly with other trainees. Bruises bloomed darkly across her arms and ribs; blood trickled down scraped knuckles. Pain became a companion, familiar and unremarkable.

I saw Alexandra kneeling silently before Inquisitor Volteriun, her head bowed respectfully. Candles flickered softly in the room, shadows dancing quietly on walls lined with books and scrolls. Her fingers brushed against parchment, pen moving swiftly to record secrets whispered behind closed doors.

Her memories came faster still—sounds and scents sharp in the rush. Blood splashed darkly against stone floors; gunshots echoed down narrow corridors. The scent of burning flesh stung sharply. Screams faded quickly into silence.

Everything Alexandra knew became mine—the sights, sounds, textures, moments locked within her memory. And in return, I felt my own memories flow outward, shared freely and openly. She glimpsed quiet dinners with my family, lonely walks home from school, long nights studying in my room. Alexandra watched Portland through my eyes, saw the broken bodies of vampires and devils lying cold on hotel floors.

Slowly, the rush faded. My head stopped spinning, vision steadying. I blinked away the last echoes of shared experience, the cold night air once again biting gently against my skin.

Alexandra stood before me, her breathing calm and steady, her gaze sharp and clear. Her cybernetic eye shifted slightly, focusing on mine with quiet intensity. I knew her. I knew everything about her. And though I’d probably forget a lot of them in time, I knew now that I could trust her–even if her memories were technically only generated after she became a [Story Unit]. 

“Do you understand your purpose?” I asked her. 

Alexandra nodded. “I am to be your trusted companion–to use all the skills at my disposal to aid you in your glorious quest to free humanity from the grip of the monsters that plague this… version of Terra. Your enemies shall be my enemies. I will be your shield and your sword–anything you need me to be.” 

Unlike the other summoned units, I couldn’t just shove her back into my [Inventory]. That would’ve defeated the entire purpose of bringing her here. Alexandra wasn’t meant to be stowed away like a weapon or a tool. She needed to see, hear, and experience the world if I wanted her to grow, to learn, and adapt beyond her baseline programming.

I nodded once to her. “Yeah. That’s about right.”

“Let’s move,” I said, glancing at the path ahead. Snow crunched under my boots as I started walking again. Alexandra fell in behind me without a sound, her steps light despite the weight of her coat and the arsenal strapped to her belt. Her movements were measured, precise—like every shift of her legs and arms was calculated to conserve energy.

She matched my pace easily, her breathing steady even as we climbed a shallow rise. The faint hiss of servos whirred softly from beneath her coat, too quiet to hear unless you were close. Chemical regulators and rejuvenation treatments had kept her body young and strong, but I knew better than to mistake her for some green recruit. She’d been an Inquisitor for nearly fifty years. That experience sat heavy in her eyes—one natural, the other a cold, flickering piece of machinery that whirred faintly every time she scanned the trees.

As we walked, I felt the lingering effects of Memory Sharing still hanging in my mind. All her knowledge was there: how to interrogate, how to tail a target without being seen, how to recognize lies from subtle twitches of the mouth and eyes. I understood how to dismantle a crime scene like an Inquisitor would—where to stand, what smells to follow, what details others would miss. It was all sharp, vivid. But I could tell, deep down, that without real practice and time, most of it would fade like smoke in the wind. Knowledge was one thing. Muscle memory and instincts were another.

Still, for now, it felt like I had a second mind walking beside me. A mind that had spent decades navigating shadowed corridors and silencing her doubts with cold, surgical precision.

“I have a suggestion, my lord.”

We stopped moving. Snow crunched lightly beneath my boots as I turned to face her. Alexandra stood calm and poised, her coat swaying faintly in the cold breeze, one hand resting loosely on her belt. Her cybernetic eye hummed softly as it focused on me.

“Those Sikh Demon Hunters could still prove useful,” she said. “It’s possible to return to them now, but on different terms. Not as a prisoner, nor as prey, but as an equal. You’ve just saved an entire squad of theirs from annihilation. Show them you’re not someone to be bound or hunted, but someone to be welcomed—a guest.”

Her tone was steady. Measured. Like she’d already thought through a dozen possible outcomes.

I stayed quiet, weighing her words.

Then a faint chime echoed in my mind. A system window blinked to life in the corner of my vision.

Hidden Quest Completed: Escape the Clutches of the Sikh Demon Hunters Without Taking a Single Life!
Reward: 20,000 War Points

I blinked.

Twenty thousand.

That wasn’t small. That was… a lot. Enough for serious upgrades. Enough to push me a step closer to keeping ahead of everything chasing me. I felt my hand twitch slightly at the thought of opening the [Store] right there and spending every last point, but I forced the urge down.

I took a slow breath and brought myself back to the present.

“The Hunters also asked me to join them when I was still in Canada,” I said. “I have no interest in pledging myself to their Sikh brethren. Joining their cause would only tangle me in politics and dogma I don’t have time for.”

Alexandra’s expression didn’t change. Her mechanical eye dimmed slightly as she processed my words.

“But…” I went on, glancing at the tree line, “there’s merit in hearing them out. At least enough to make it clear that I’m not someone to threaten. Better they see me as an unknown factor than an enemy.”

She nodded once. “Agreed. Power respected is often more useful than power feared.”

Snow drifted lazily between us as I adjusted my coat and glanced back toward where the armored vehicle had been. The smell of burned metal still lingered faintly on the air.

“Alright then,” I murmured. “Let’s see if they’re still in one piece.”