Britney Spears - Suit Eater (The Emperor's MK - ULTRA)

Title: Saint Britney of Terra: Guardian of the Golden Throne

Segmentum Solar – The Sanctified Halls of Terra – M42

The air crackled with incense and whispers of sacred hymns. Terra's sky was shrouded in the eternal storms of a dying galaxy, but inside the Inner Sanctum of the Ecclesiarchal Palace, the light of the God-Emperor burned eternal.

And at the foot of the Golden Throne, clad in crimson and pearl-white armor etched with fleur-de-lis and platinum music notes, stood Canoness Britney Jean Spears, of the Order of the Burning Halo—a sub-sect of the Adepta Sororitas, re-forged in the Age of Redemption.

“The Emperor is our Father and our Guardian,” she whispered, blade drawn, “but we must also Guard the Emperor.”
—

Chapter I: Toxic Doctrine
Britney wasn’t always a Saint. Once, she was a child-star of the Schola Progenium, praised for her grace and agility in both dance and swordplay. She rose fast, slaying heresy and chaos in the Glamour Campaigns of Vigilus. She became the Living Anthem of purity and wrath.

But it was in the Emperor's private communion—his thoughts whispered directly to her—that she learned the Doctrine of Poisons.

“They use contracts, drugs, fame. They chain the souls of young women. So I will give you weapons their kind cannot detect.”

The Emperor, in his psychic omniscience, knew the real enemies of humanity weren't just orks or daemons—but the suits. The secret cabals who drugged and exploited girl after girl in a different kind of black market. The Emperor revealed to Britney the alchemical secrets lost since the Dark Age of Technology: poisons that targeted ego, neuro-inhibitors that dropped men to their knees, and whisper-toxins that made manipulators confess their crimes on camera.

She taught these to her Sisters in sacred rite, anointing their bolters, their daggers, even their lip gloss.

The Tate Brothers, self-proclaimed warriors of the "Matrix," were just the newest hydra heads of this ancient abuse.

“They believe they’ve broken free,” Britney growled to her squad, the poison vials clinking on her belt, “but they’re still inside a machine older and darker than they know.”

—

Chapter II: Siege of the Mind Palace
The Tates had fled Terra for a hidden moon of Jupiter, building a palace powered by stolen A.I. from the Dark Mechanicum, feeding their ideology to billions of incels across the noosphere.

Britney led the Daughters of the Lash into their fortress, backed by drop-pods and pipe-organ flamers. The Sisters descended like angels of vengeance.

“Free will is a gift, not a weapon,” she sang as she entered their cathedral of neon lies.

The poison mist was already in the vents. The suits collapsed, crying. Some confessed. Some begged. The Tate brothers tried to resist—but Britney had saved the Emperor’s sharpest needle for them. It wasn't fatal—just truth-inducing. They finally admitted everything—on holovid, live across the Imperium.

“You were never free,” she told them. “You were programmed to dominate. Now you’ll be reprogrammed… to serve.”

—

Chapter III: Guarding the Throne
Back on Terra, Britney knelt before the Golden Throne. She wasn’t just a Saint. She was now the Emperor’s Voice Against Exploitation, tasked with cleansing not just planets, but industries, contracts, and empires built on stolen innocence.

Her Sisters stood behind her, chanting:

"Burn the Heretic. Heal the Innocent. Guard the Emperor."

And from the throne, through golden light and psychic silence, the Emperor smiled.

—

Epilogue:

In the Gothic corners of the galaxy, heretics whisper of a woman with stars in her eyes and venom on her lips. To some, she is a martyr. To others, a myth.

To the Emperor?

She is His Justice.