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A grimdark Astra Militarum story set on the ash wastes of Vellmark, where Signal Attachment Seven — the Wick — is not sent to win, but to be seen. Repainted in the colours of dead regiments, carrying lamps, false vox-traffic, flare signals, and borrowed identities, Selvik Grau and the men around him are used as a diversionary element by the Munitorum, pushed into fortress guns so the real line regiment can strike elsewhere. What begins as the brutal routine of wet paint, casualty forms, and red-stamped irrelevance becomes something darker: Greywall, Blackspire, Ashmark, Tessek-Four, the red Z of zero-loss-relevance, executed regiments, erased rosters, and the discovery that the Imperium’s bureaucracy can make soldiers disappear more completely than any battlefield. Between the Commissariat, field discipline, the vanished records of Kren, the ghost of Marten Grau hidden in a relay roster, and the names carved into the inside of Selvik’s flak armour, this is a Warhammer 40,000 tale about human bait in the Imperium of Man — about what the Astra Militarum calls duty, what the Munitorum calls necessity, and what remains when the form says the dead did not matter.