IMPERIAL HIVE PREACHER WITH RETINUE

A hive is not a city. A city has an end. The spires climb until the sky gives up. The under-tiers sink until the maps stop being honest. Between the two live the numbers nobody has ever finished counting - workers, gangers, scrap-breathers, mutants who were never entered into any register, things born in the sump that have never been named by anyone who could read. They all breathe the same recycled air. They all carry the same debt. The Preacher comes to collect it. He arrives sealed behind a…

♥ 31