[Oh, warspit. Warpspit and piss. How could she have misinterpreted so badly? Mita takes a step back, not so reflexively that it would prompt action, her own fist closing. But she has grown bolder in her year of exile. And far more powerful too. As if by the flip of a coin, her attitude turns both frosty and venomous.]

You are right. I do not speak of the Imperium that you fought for. Whether you like it or not, I speak of the Imperium that exists. And you fought for the Imperium to become the evangelized corpse of bloated greed, fattened on hatred and corruption.

[And then, a final barbed insult she can't help but hurl.]

You should claim to be a psyker, by the way you speak so certainly of how the future is or isn't.