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They found each other in the wreckage of optimism, and it took them a decade to decide that hope was not enough to save the Golden Branch from itself. It was in a library, not an armoury, where the Apostalistian beame the sword and shield of Integrity, a Divine who’d lost its candidate.
Some climb into their Divines, others deploy them across the battlefield, or fight under the blanket of their shadows. But Integrity demands intimacy, it digs into the flesh of the willing - all metal and promises and penetralia - desperate to create an unbreakable human. It is afraid and wounded and it cannot know the power it gives without seeing it first in the reflection of a candidate's eyes. The loft, the velocity, the violence. And for the first time in centuries, Integrity doesn't fear it’s candidate. It moves with confidence in muscle and ambition. It believes in Sokrates Nikon Artemisios.