A school for the cursed: A Psyker Quest. Warhammer 40k quest.

"What brings you here, Inquisitor?" Lord Prefector Aldin Arat asked the Inquisitor as they made their way down the unadorned stone halls of the Astra Telepathica Keep. The Keep was Aldin's pride and joy, a project he had spent a century of his considerable lifespan working on. And it felt like he was finally truly getting the recognition he deserved. From needing to hide his works from Inquisitors, now he had them visiting just to acquire new Sages or potential Interrogators.

The Keep was built in the middle of the Hive City, back when it had been the surface. Attempts to elevate it to keep up with the growing spires had been foiled by the planet's aristocracy, but he personally found that its location at the heart of the Hive was quite useful. It was hard to reach without knowing which of the old passages and disabled elevators and maglev tracks led there, and that meant his Keep had privacy.

They moved past the scrutinizing eyes of Black Sentinels. Aldin Arat had worked hard to get his position as Lord Prefect of his Scholam Psykana, and this had given him the confidence to talk to the Inquisitor as an equal, or at the very least without fear.

The Inquisitor's eyes moved through the hallway, scanning them intently. "I am in need of expanding my retinue." He says with something that a sentimentalist might recognize as begrudging acknowledgement. "And I wished to see how this operation works. I was surprised to learn of Wyrdvanes being taught off of the hallowed soil of the Homeworld."

Aldin tasted the soft undertone of sarcasm in the words, a bouquet of disappointment at the state of the Throneworld's masses, woven through with apathy and resignation.

"That is the intention. A moment, we will be passing through into the processing sanctum." Aldin said, telepathically reaching out for the hidden servitors and commanding them to open a door. He then telekinetically adjusted a series of hidden levers behind a wall panel to disable the integrated defenses, an application of pyromancy disabled the pilot light for a hidden flamer. The two Black Sentinels on the other side raised scanning instruments. Vitae samplers and gene-pattern recognizers. "Not all Psykers require the Throneworld to be trained and sanctioned full. It reduces the pressure on the Black Ships."

Inquisitor Kelmar Eustace Johan Alexis nodded sternly, his patchwork scarred face twisting into a kind smile. "I support your efforts, naturally. I have found Psykers to be very useful."

Aldin led him into a large hollow space, a massive spherical void within the Keep with psi-dampenings plating covering the inside of the sphere. They crossed a gangway to a round room elevated on a platform inside the shielded room. Aldin put his hand on the scanner and felt a prick as his blood was sampled to open the door.

The walls were made of concentric silver rings like a ball carved from a treestump, each of a different mineral composition to improve their dampening effects. In the room was an elevated marble block atop with an instructor sat in meditation. Around the instructor were the students, each located on a metal plate, leaning against a brace they were strapped into. Each student had a cable connected to the plug at the back of their skull, and an IV drip from a stand connected to their right wrist

Aldin knew the Inquisitor could not see it, but he nevertheless described what was occurring. "Each student is drawing on their psychic power, performing rudimentary exercises to get a grip for handling their power. The instructor there is meanwhile sending out telepathic probes to try and disrupt their concentration." Aldin motioned for one of the students. "The plugs are so bursts of psychic energy can be grounded, while the IV drugs them into a deep meditation. You could fire your pistol in the room and they wouldn't even hear it."

"I am not familiar with this method of training." Kelmar admitted. The words from his lips had a thread of suspicion woven through them, with a smaller ribbon of interest and a sprinkle of fascination.

"This Keep has historically served primarily for training Psykers for secondment to the Inquisition, which means that the Psykers we pick from the Black Ships are the most stable ones they have. We train not for grand displays of power, but for subtle manipulation. You will not find a better tarot-reader in this Sector than our Prefect."

Aldin had given the same tour before, to Militarum Generals, Inquisitors, Rogue Traders, and masters of the Administratum. The words flowed naturally from him.

"Ah. Then there has been no need for minnowing the acolytes." Kelmar said. "I visited the City of Sight. The training there was... more gruelling." His words were laced with and smelled of disapo--, no of different expectations. But there was no dissapointment.

The usual remark. Typical. Aldin thought. "No. Those whose ability to reliable -manifest- their ability have already been picked out by us."

A teenage acolytes suddenly went into a spasm, letting out a pained scream, hoarfrost spreading out from the Psyker. Aldin tensed up. That did not sound like the usual shout of pain from a developing Psyker.

Kelmar reflexively took out his bolt pistol and aimed it at the Psyker, but Aldin stopped him with a raised hand. "Don't. He's a Gamma." He stared at the Gamma, demanding him he control himself, not daring to reach into a mind currently breaking apart.

The plug in the back of the acolyte's neck caught fire as parts of his brain transmuted into living psychic fire. Something pushed against the Keep's wards, drawn by the phenomena.

Aldin cursed, he reached out telepathically to the mind of the Servitor that was in charge of the room's countermeasures. It had already awakened and was counting down to the automatic deployment of the room's sterilization protocol. He commanded it with a mental shout.

+Circle twelve. Administer mercy protocol.+

There was a pneumatic hiss as a monomolecular spike shot up from beneath the floor, shooting up through the Psyker's tail bone, burrowing through the spine between the vertebrae , and unfolding in the brain in a shredding expanse of monofillaments, channels along its length releasing psi-dampening chemicals and neurotoxins, instantly killing the acolyte and removing the threat of psi-active brain tissues contineuing the manifestation. The spike retracted, allowing the body to slump.

The Inquisitor grit his teeth at the sight. Aldin could smell the questions the man had yet to ask in his words and feel the absence of any other emotion. It was a confused disgust, a lack of understanding at just what had happened. "A bad way to die. What was that spike?"

Aldin took a moment to calm himself, allowing his Psykana conditioning to kick in. Was the Inquisitor knowledgeable enough to suspect its origins? Would he care? "Part of the Keep's automated systems." He said.

Kelmar took the hint and did not inquire further. The universal agreement of Inquisitor and Telepathica to not pry in the other's affairs. At least, not too deeply.

Servitors with flamers and sanitation equipment appeared from sliding wall apertures, two of them carrying a large stretcher between them. One placed the dead body upon the stretcher while the other began to clean the circle. Then they lifted up the stretcher and departed the room.

"Manifesting power is different from an ability to control the power that comes forth." Aldin muttered, not at the Inquisitor but at the whims of fate. He looked with dissapointment at the spike as it was being cleaned with a flamer. That particular Psyker had been doing well until this moment. Gamma grade. Excellent performance in all fields. Strong of mind and body. He had thought the boy would become an Interrogator for sure.

Aldin had been on the hook with the Sector Astra Telepathica for the low throughput of Gamma-Grade Psykers. The Emperor had not blessed his students with luck. Training Gamma's was a painful thing. Each was a precious gem of great potential, but also increasingly unlikely to survive training.

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The Inquisitor received his sages in the end, a trio of Diviners skilled at reading the Tarot, and departed. The Telepathica Keep returned to its usual functioning. New Psykers arrived from the Hive City's Enforcers, with some being chosen to learn locally, and others being sedated in preparation for transfer to Terra for Soul-Binding. It was a good haul, none seemed destined for the Golden Throne.

Aldin took a moment to examine the administration of his Keep. His commitments were stable. The planet's tolerance of the fortress was merely disdainful instead of outright hateful, and his connections with the Inquisition were stronger. It was just another day, except for the regrettable loss of the Gamma.

He felt a ripple in the Empyrean slamming against the wards of the Keep. A psionic siren went out from the Astropathic Choir at its heart, as the choirmaster began sending out a warning to everyone within the keep.

+Beta-grade psychic manifestation detected within the Hive. Probability of Beta-Grade Awakening is high. All defenders to their stations.+

Aldin's heart nearly skipped a beat before Psykana conditioning kicked in. Coordinate disaster response, prepare for emergencies.

A Beta awakening? We can handle one. But we need to be quick. He extended his mind beyond the walls, searching through the hive for devastation. He was preparing to see a firestorm, a floor collapsing, or a tide of eldritch horrors emerging from a newly awakened mind. He sought out with his mind, examining the wards for damage.

A Beta Psyker was not the instant planet-devastating destruction of an Alpha, but the Telepathica took no chances. Beta Psykers had become gateways for Neverborn incursions in the past, especially upon awakening.

With his mind reaching out, he sensed how the Black Sentinels were already guiding the acolytes back to their dormitories, while weapons were prepared in the event the manifestation was the prelude to a demonic event. Silver autogun rounds were being fed into rifles as the wall-mounted flamers near the keep's solitary entrance performed a test-firing sequence.

He felt other minds joining him, the other Prefectors of the Keep, one for each of the five Psychic Disciplines.

But there was no followup. No waves of psychic energy crashing against the wards, no amplified screaming or great firestorms, no hive-quake, waves of biomantic energy.

That was unusual… and very promising. He reached for his vox link to the captain of his Black Sentinels, the man's armour blocking out any telepathy. "Prepare an extraction team and a stasis casket."

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The previous vote is not over, fyi