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Chapter Text

Ruby awoke in a forest her last memories were that of her falling into an abyss between time and space, failure being her only feeling as she waited for the cold embrace of death. Getting up the little huntress gazed her silver eyes across her new environment. It was night in the forest with the woodlands reminding her of her home, the island of Patch yet something in her soul tugged at her that something was wrong, something was off of the forest but she pushed these thoughts down thinking them nothing more than paranoia caused by fear. Noticing her weapon, Crescent Rose was gone, the huntress panicked before spotting the oversized weapon stuck in the bark of a great tree. Walking over towards the tree to pull the scythe out Ruby heard the screams of a child. Grabbing the scythe out of the tree, Ruby used her semblance to turn into a cloud of rose petals traveling through the forest with lightning speed. As she got closer she began hearing the sounds of a rabid beast, a Grimm she thought at first. Reaching her destination she spotted a small child no more than seven years of age covered in dirt wearing a ragged outfit. Reforming her body with scythe in hand ready to fight whatever abomination of Salem greeted her, Ruby found herself facing something even worse than the creatures of Grimm before her eyes. It was a massive beast, its head that of a cat and wolf combined with multiple eyes across its ugly face, within its mouth were two snapping tongues. The thing's claws were massive the size of her arms, that looked like they could rip apart a paladin with ease, however the worst thing that caught Ruby's attention was the smell. It smelled wrong, tainted whatever afflicted it didn't belong in this reality. It was worse than any Grimm she fought, she could feel the sadistic joy it got out of killing the innocent. Her hands quivering in fear for a second the huntress tightened her grip as she composed herself ready to face whatever this… thing could bring.

"Run!" a booming voice shouted to them. Turning her head Ruby found herself greeted by a black armored giant whose armor resembled that of a knight who wore a weird backpack, on the stranger's chest was an odd symbol to Ruby, it was a winged blade that faced downwards. What kingdom is he from, she thought. The child she came to protect ran into the forest as the stranger raised two blocky pistols at the thing's face. The warrior shot at the beast with a discipline she had not even seen in the disciplined soldiers of Atlas or even their robots. Each trigger pull was a loud bang before the bullet exploded on the beast's flesh. Seeing the black knight as more of a threat the beast changed its attention towards the warrior. Regaining her composure Ruby zipped in a cloud of petals and slashed at the creature's right foot, her momentum being enough to cut through the wretched thing's bone. Roaring in pain the armored warrior used the opportunity the huntress had made and unloaded his pistols into the thing's dreaded face. Pulping its brains and turning its head into little more than a lump of disfigured flesh the beast slumped down dead. Satisfied that the monster was dead the knight reloaded his pistols switching magazines in that cold calculating efficiency she took notice of earlier. Walking towards her, Ruby noticed how the giant's hands seemed to twitch momentarily as if it was thinking if it should shoot her or not. Standing in front of her the armored giant looked down at Ruby, his red eye lenses meeting her silver eyes.

"Thank you for your assistance even if it was unneeded," he spoke, his voice loud through his helmet's speaker. With Ruby not being able to place the odd accent he spoke in anywhere on Remnant.

"It's my job as a huntsman to defend the innocent. I only did my duty," she replied meekly, unnerved by a weird sense of dread that washed over her. "What's your name, mister giant man?" She asked, her voice filled with nervousness towards the black knight.

"I am known as Zabriel of the First Legion," he replied. What in the brothers was the First Legion? Ruby thought to herself as she smiled to hide her confusion.

"Ruby Rose uh… Huntress of Vale," she returned in kind.

"You are not from Camarth?" Zabriel suddenly asked, causing Ruby to have a puzzled face wondering what he meant by that and what Camarth was. It didn't sound like anywhere in the four kingdoms let alone Remnant.

"What's Camarth and what kingdom is that?" she asked to see if she could get an answer from Zabriel. While she couldn't see his face Ruby was able to notice the confused look he was giving her.

"Camarth is the world which you and I find ourselves on," Zabriel replied. "Has humanity's realm devolved to the point where its own citizenry don't even know when they find themselves off-world?" He asked more directed to himself than Ruby.

"Did you say off-world as in planet?" she asked, her eyes widening in shock. That couldn't be right, humans on other planets? That couldn't be possible, unless… Remnant wasn't man's original home but she had seen man's creation by the brother gods, it didn't make sense. The more she learned of this new land the more it sounded like a terrible sci-fi B movie from Vale she and her team would watch on the weekends.

"Yes, what of it?" Zabriel replied as if it were common knowledge. Panicking at what he just told Ruby used her semblance to scale the treeline until she could see the night sky. Looking out at the sky Ruby's eyes searched for the white glow of Remnant's shattered moon but was only greeted by a massive gash in the sky staring at it with her eyes she felt pain. Losing her balance as she gripped her eyes, Ruby fell to the forest floor breaking her aura on tree branches before landing in the cold metal hands of Zabriel as he caught her.

"What is that!?" she cried.

"What do you speak of?"

"The sky, what is… that in the sky!" she screamed before falling unconscious.

Waking up, Ruby found herself in a tent on the grassy floor of the forest she now found herself in, rubbing her eyes as they still seared from pain she was relieved to find Crescent Rose next to her before picking up her weapon and setting it on her waist before weakly getting up. Walking out of the tent she found it was midway with her being greeted by a campsite of dozens of people at work in somber silence all giving her an uneasy look as she walked past them with some looking like she had kicked their dog. Seeing the child she attempted to rescue earlier, Ruby waved her hands at them, with the child staring at her before running off somewhere else in the camp.

"You are awake," the familiar voice of Zabriel said. Turning around, Ruby found the giant without his helmet, being surprised that the giant was human. His face was that of someone who appeared to be in their late forties to early fifties suffering from gigantism with his hair peppered with gray. Staring at her with blue eyes his skin was a rough brown in color.

"Did you think I was some mere automaton girl?" he asked jokingly, taking notice of her staring.

"What no… of course not… it's just…"

"How can something so giant and methodical be that of a man?" he finished, causing Ruby to giggle a bit in embarrassment. "Come, we have much to discuss. I have my questions and you have yours." Gesturing to a tent across the campsite, Ruby attempted to keep up with Zabriel, finding it difficult as he strode towards his tent. Entering the tent Ruby found it scarce with very little in decoration, only seeing his massive pistols neatly arranged on black and red cloth. Hypnotized by the strange weapons her trance would be broken by a grunt from Zabriel finding him sitting down in the middle of the tent with the giant gesturing for her to do the same. Sitting down in a similar position to Zabriel, Ruby smiled awkwardly as he stared at her for a few long seconds before speaking.

"I have served since the times of Unification when the symbol of the Imperium was merely the eagle and lightning bolt and have seen many wondrous and terrible things this galaxy has had to offer. I have fought all manners of aliens and human empires and helped in the compliance of hundreds of worlds but you Ruby Rose are the strangest thing this galaxy has shown me so far."

"And why would that be?" she asked, perplexed by many things in his statement.

"You are a relic of an era I thought long gone, you are a psyker yet no nothing of the Great Rift which has torn the galaxy in two, you speak a dialect of Low Gothic long dead, and no nothing of the Imperium of Man."

"Psyker? Low Gothic? Imperium of what?" she asked, confused as she felt her mind was about to explode from the information overload.

"Tell me how did you end up on Camarth?" he asked, ignoring her previous statement. With a deep breath Ruby began her tale.

And so that's what she did she told Zabriel of Remnant, of the witch queen Salem, and the creatures of Grimm, she explained about the fall of Atlas, and how aura semblance worked for what felt like an eternity with him only interrupting her to ask the occasional question.

"Fascinating," he replied when she finished her tale. "Your world, this planet of Remnant, reminds me of Caliban before the Imperium came."

"You keep mentioning an Imperium, what is it?" Ruby asked with curiosity on her face.

"It was mankind's greatest empire in the aftermath of Old Night, an empire that seeked to reunite the lost tribes of man under one banner and bring about a new Golden Age of understanding and science. Now… it's a backwards rump state ruled by decadence, tyranny, and blind zealotry for the corpse of a man who didn't want to be a god," Zabriel told her his last words were bitter and filled with contempt.

"What happened to it?" she asked.

"Betrayal of the foulest order," he replied venomously. "At our height we were betrayed by our greatest military leader, Horus Lupercal. He was corrupted by fell powers beyond this plane of existence, with his treachery eight of his brothers joined him in damnation and waged war against the Imperium with it ending in his death at the hands of the Master of Mankind who was entombed on Terra where he apparently still sits to this day, that was ten thousand years ago."

"Ten thousand years?!" Ruby repeated in surprise, "Just how old are you?" she asked Zabriel who in response chuckled which unnerved her seeing it as unnatural coming from the giant.

"I am merely only a few centuries old, not ten thousand. My current circumstance is due to an incident I do not wish to discuss at this moment," he replied.

"Still, how have you lived so long?" she asked.

"Come now, I thought you were more intelligent isn't it clear I am not what you would call the standard mold of a human being?" he asked.

"I didn't want to be rude," she whispered, ignorant that Zabriel heard her, causing the giant to give her a warm smile.

"You mortals are an interesting bunch I have learned. To answer your original question I am an Astartes, a genetically engineered warrior made for the purpose of conquering the stars in the name of the Imperium thousands strong our legions marched and freed countless worlds from the vile tyranny of the alien. I was in fact one of the originals created by Him during the Wars of Unification, one of the Uncrowned Princes we were called." Fascinated by his tale Ruby couldn't help notice the venom Zabriel placed on the term alien, she didn't like that it reminded her too much of the many racists she had met across Remnant who despised the Faunas.

"You mentioned that I was a psyker earlier when talking about the… Great Rift earlier what did you mean by that Zabriel."

"Ah, now we discuss the Calibanite lion in the room."

Ruby looked at him with a confused look. "You mean the elephant in the room?" Ruby said, not getting the old Astarte's euphemism.

"Yes, forgive me I spent the latter days of the Great Crusade on Caliban, could say I went a bit native," he smiled. "To get back on topic you and the rest of the populace of your world are what those of the Imperium call a psyker, one born with the ability to control the energies of the warp, a parallel dimension to our reality where thought is made real, many liken it to magic at least most in this current age of ignorance."

"Are most people not psykers?" She asked confused as it went against everything Remnant knew of the human soul and aura.

"Yes most humans are not psykers thankfully, if that were the case humanity would've gone extinct long ago."

"You make out being a psyker as a bad thing Zabriel shouldn't they be proud of their gifts?" the girl asked the space marine.

"Psykers are conduits for the warp; those not trained on how to control their powers will become nexus points for the Neverborn. Too many worlds were lost during Old Night because their planetary populations did not keep their psykers in check either with purges or the correct training. Even in the Imperium the witch is still hated, rightfully in my eyes." Zabriel explained. Ruby's anger flared as Zabriel waved off what practically sounded like genocide as justifiable in front of her.

"Does that apply to me?" Ruby asked with a hint of her anger apparent in her voice, ready to fight the transhuman if she had to.

"That remains to be seen but so far I would say your psychic discipline is strong. I've only ever seen such mental fortitude in the Thousand Sons, most mortal psykers at your level would've had their heads explode or be gibbering like mad man," Zabriel replied in that same flat voice either not noticing or caring about Ruby's anger towards his previous comments.

"Oh," she replied sheepishly, her anger evaporating as she began wondering if her head would explode at any minute.

"You… said you were part of an army Zabriel where is the rest of it? Do they have a ship off-world?" she asked, seeing if there was any way to get back to Remnant from what he described in his tales.

"The only other Astartes on this throne forsaken world are the Bastards as the locals like to call them and the remains of the Ruby Crescents that garrisoned this planet," he replied curtly. Causing her frown, her head down in disappointment realizing she was stuck on Camarth.

"Tell me Huntress Rose you said earlier when we met in the forest that your duty was to the innocent?" Zabriel asked.

"What of it?"

"While I cannot offer you harbor off this world I would ask for your help the people of Camarth have been hunted by the warp mutated beasts or the foul Ten Thousand Eyes since the Rift opened I have made it my duty since arriving to defend what survivors I come across, will you assist me in this endeavor?" he asked, raising his gauntlet towards her.

"Of course, I wouldn't be a huntress if I didn't," she replied with a smile, grasping the cold ceramite of his gauntlet. Whatever it takes I will get back home, she thought before the two stood up and went about their duty to defend the people of Camarth.

Chapter Text

A week had passed since Ruby had arrived on Camarth and joined Zabriel and his band of refugees. In that time she had learned more about the great galaxy and the Imperium of Man from the old Dark Angel as she learned his legion was called. How the apparent homeworld of humanity, Terra had been unified, the treaty between the Martian Mechanicum and the early years of the burgeoning star Empire, and the many wars fought to unite man under this so-called Master of Mankind, this Emperor. The more she learned of the Imperium the more she came to hate it, not just its current state but the empire it used to be ten thousand years ago. It was monstrous to her eyes a nation built upon subjugation and genocide on a scale that would make even the most racist of the Atlesian elite tremble at the sheer brutality and disregard for human life. With her fearing what would happen to Remnant if the Imperium found her planet, having learned of the Imperium's policy of racial purity and how she and everyone on her world were considered mutants to either be enslaved or be exterminated. Despite this she continued to work with Zabriel seeing the citizens of this cruel regime as merely people of circumstance who knew nothing of a life beyond the hate they were taught with the same applying to Zabriel, coming to pity the old Dreadwing Sergeant once she learned how the Astartes were made, being taken as children and subjugated to grueling training and surgeries to make them the warriors they were. And while she didn't agree with his more hateful views he saw a sense of nobility to him seeing him genuinely care about defending the innocent like her. During an outing the pair made into the perilous forests of Camarth to get firewood the two made periodically for their camp Zabriel spoke to the young huntress.

"I can see the resentment in your eyes you have given me these last few days, huntress Rose. I believe there is something we must discuss if we are to continue working together, for the refugees sake," His voice calm with no hint of emotion in it.

Ruby's eyes widened having believed she had hid her emotions well enough to the old Astartes before her eyes furrowed. "Something to discuss?" she asked sarcastically. "I don't know what to discuss other than the fact I'm working with a man who takes pride in the atrocities he committed and the worlds he helped destroy. In the many aliens you have told me that were exterminated for the crime of simply existing alongside humans. Besides the fact that I see you as a monster Zabriel I don't think there's much for us to talk about," she ranted letting out the resentment she had bottled up towards the Dark Angel in the last week finally free.

"I presume this is the issue since you speak sarcastically, am I correct?" Zabriel asked in his usual tone of voice, causing Ruby to facepalm, annoyed by the space marine's lack of emotional understanding.

"Of course it is, what else would it be!" she yelled into the forest causing the birds or what looked like birds to fly away.

"Perhaps I am a monster for my actions. I will not deny that but I am one of necessity, Huntress Rose. Perhaps it would have been better to work with the xenos and the other human polity's we came across rather than destroy them to have focused our resources on battling the true enemy. And perhaps it was folly to force man under one banner damning our species to a slow death that our species finds itself now in. Perhaps all these things are right but you will have no regret from me if that was what you hoped for in your ranting. I am a product of my time, a weapon nothing more. Too stubborn to change as was His design," he spoke plainly.

"You're more than a weapon, Zabriel!" she yelled, causing him to recoil. "I have seen how you protect the people of Camarth. If you were so heartless you would have left them for the beasts to eat. You are a protector that's not the sign of a weapon, that's the sign of a man with a heart," she continued. "You lie to yourself when you say you are only a "mere weapon" incapable of change, to these people you are a guardian, a beacon of hope. You don't want to admit that because it wouldn't absolve yourself of all the blood that's on your hands"

"You know nothing of me," he sneered, causing her to jump thinking he was going to attack her.

"It's enough to see the regret that you carry yourself around the camp," she replied.

"How would you know of regret girl," he growled.

"I let an entire nation die, destroyed centuries of history, and killed countless millions to slow an unkillable enemy. I think I know a thing or two about regret" she said, doing her best to keep tears from pouring from her eyes.

"What's there to regret?" Zabriel replied. "You did what was necessary for the greater whole of your people."

"I could say the same Zabriel of the Dark Angels weren't those worlds you and your legion burned done out of necessity, all the aliens you slaughtered needed deaths to save billions? Why feel any remorse for that? I thought the stars were man's manifest destiny or was that a lie?" she said, causing Zabriel to freeze not expecting his comments to be used against him. Walking to the giant knight Ruby placed her hand on his gauntlet.

"Be what these people see you as Zabriel not the monster I see you as, prove me wrong," Zabriel pushed her hand aside as he regained his composure before walking over to a pile of branches.

"Come huntress Rose the firewood will not collect itself best not to keep the flock waiting in the cold."

Walking back to the forest in silence, their hands full with firewood, they arrived at the camp finding the survivors surrounding a tall giant similar to that of Zabriel in both design and heraldry, another space marine she thought to herself. Looking at the differences between the two, Ruby noted how the stranger's armor was a dark forest green color in contrast to Zabriel's black. Turning his head to face them they were greeted by an aging blond haired man with a receding hairline and bushy mustache and beard whose eyes looked ever inquisitive in their gaze. Upon seeing his face Ruby noticed Zabriel freeze up before dropping the firewood he had gathered. Grabbing his bolt-pistols he began firing at the dark green giant who what appeared to Ruby to be in near instant dodged the high explosive micro-rockets that Zabriel unloaded towards him in what use of being less than a microsecond if not more. Diving out of Zabriel's shot, the green giant lunged at Zabriel. Crashing into Zabriel the stranger pinned the Dark Angel to the ground, slapping away his bolt-pistols as if Zabriel were a child. All this happened in less than ten seconds to Ruby. Struggling under the strength and weight of the stranger, she watched as Zabriel struggle stopped being replaced by what most would call fear, something Zabriel told the Space-Marines were trained to not feel. Also dropping her firewood Ruby pulled out Crescent Rose, and swung the oversized scythe towards the green giant instead of slicing or denting his armor; it merely pinged off of it causing the little huntress to vibrate as she felt her teeth chatter before falling on the ground.

"Get off him!" one of the survivors in the camp screamed. "He is our protector!"

"He is a traitor," the man growled in a hoarse yet noble voice.

"You are the traitor!" Zabriel yelled back in a rage that Ruby thought the old Space-Marine was incapable of even after their argument in the forest. "You abandoned us, you abandoned Caliban, and you abandoned the Imperium!"

"Lies!" the green giant snarled.

"Lies? Then where have you been for ten thousand years?" Zabriel demanded of the giant. Ruby watched as the stranger opened his mouth to protest Zabriel's claim but found him slack jawed as she watched his face grow pale.

"Take your helmet off," he demanded of the Dark Angel after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. Causing everybody to look at the giant in confusion.

"What?" Zabriel asked, perplexed by the demand.

"Take your helmet off," he repeated. "Or I will remove it for you," he growled. For a few seconds the air was tense before Zabriel reached towards his helmet and pulled it off as the giant told him to. Reaching towards his own face the giant with a single hand rubbed the lines on his face before speaking again.

"No. Ten thousand years is an impossibility. A primarch…" Primarch? Why does that sound familiar? she thought to herself trying to remember the small repository of information Zabriel had told her in the last week. "I cannot be sure how we would age. But a Space Marine would be long dead, I am certain of it," he continued.

"The warp storm scattered us not just through space, but also through time," Zabriel told him, causing Ruby to remember how the Astartes had told her of how he got sent to this time. "I re-emerged perhaps four hundred years ago. Four hundred years of running and hiding from my little brothers," his voice filled with scorn upon mentioning the current Dark Angels chapter. Little brothers? Zabriel didn't mention that to her or how he had been on the run for the last four hundred years. Just what in the brothers was going on. "We were always single minded once we engaged a foe, but ten thousand years of hatred in an attempt to extinguish guilt? Truly, my lord Lion, you taught your sons well." Lion? So that's what this guy's name is. Weird name. Relieved she had one question answered.

"What mockery is this?" the Lion snarled. "We returned to Caliban from Terra, only to find the system held against us! You opened fire on us without warning, and your leaders had made pacts with-" the Lion stopped mid sentence looking around at Ruby and the other survivors of Camarth before whispering the rest in a low voice that only Zabriel's superhuman hearing could pick up. "I cannot explain how I have come to be here, for my memory was impaired until I laid eyes upon you, and some things are still hidden from me, but one thing is plain- as soon as you saw me, you tried to kill me again! Why should my loyal sons not hunt traitors like yourself?"

Zabriel sighed. "I knew nothing of the powers which you speak. I have no contact with our leaders, Luther and Astelan and the others, save briefly and in passing. I was not party any order to open fire upon your fleet. But as for my reaction to seeing you…" Zabriel trailed on before raising his head to look the Lion in his eyes. "I saw you once only after you ordered us to Caliban. The fleet was raining fire upon us, and our brothers had landed to make war. I caught a glimpse of you, for the first time in years, as you cut your way through some new recruit who had never laid eyes on you, and whose first true battle wearing the armor of the First Legion was against their gene-father and his executioners. They died in moments and you pressed on presumably in search of Luther. I did not see you again. However even with what came afterwards, even when the planet splintered and the warp reached out to seize us all, it was the expression on your face that remained with me then, and for all the long years since." Zabriel paused as the always calm Astartes Ruby had known seemed to shudder. "It was hatred and rage, pure and unfettered. You were intent upon our deaths, and we knew better than any others that once you set your mind to something you could not be deterred." Looking at Zabriel as he trembled under the gaze of the Lion, Ruby could not blame the old Astartes for the fear he felt in the moment. This Lion was not someone to trifle with, his anger reminded her of a wild beast one controlled but still rabid when it lashed out.

"When I saw you here, having walked out of the forest, I could not mistake your features despite the age that has overtaken you, for your face has haunted my dreams for centuries. Either you were a Chaos-spawned mockery of my primarch, spewed forth from the Great Rift to torment me, or you were the Lion here to finally kill me. I was prepared to tolerate neither without a fight," Zabriel finally finished. His face was filled with contempt for whatever fate the Lion chose for him. For a long moment, Ruby waited as the Lion searched the old marine's face before speaking again.

"You say I abandoned the Imperium," the Lion's voice a low growl of contempt to Zabriel. "Do you swear to me by whatever you hold most dear that you remained loyal? That whatever the allegiances of your commanders, you, Zabriel, loved the Emperor and humanity, and that you only raised your hand to your brothers and to me because you thought you were betrayed in turn?" he asked, eying him waiting for whatever response the marine gave him.

"I swear it," Zabriel replied. Letting go of Zabriel the Lion got up.

"Your story of ten thousand years is hard to accept," he said, raising an arm to assist the old marine up from the ground. "but I believe these words"

Zabriel did not move from his spot on the floor. "And do you also swear?"

The Lion's face turned to a frown. "Swear what?"

"Do you swear to me by whatever you hold most dear that you remained? That you, the Lion, loved the Emperor and humanity, and that you only raised hands to your gene-sons because you thought you were betrayed?" Zabriel demanded, repeating the mantra he had been made to make an oath on. Growling similar to that of a predatory animal Ruby cringed fearing that the two would begin fighting once more.

"I swear it," he said. With his oath Zabriel finally took the Lion's hand as he was pulled to his feet. To the surprise of both the primarch and Ruby Zabriel's eyes began tearing up before muttering something only the Lion could hear.

Turning away from Zabriel the Lion focused his gaze on Ruby, his eyes meeting hers. "And who might you be?" He asked incredulously.

Ruby froze under the voice of the primarch. "Uhh…just a nobody sir Lion… sir?" She struggled unsure how to address the giant in front of her.

His eyes furrowed seeing past her lies. "A nobody who is brave enough to attack a primarch and speaks a dead dialect of Low Gothic who wields a weapon not of Imperial design?" he spoke bluntly, holding Crescent Rose in his hands as if it were a toy.

"Wwwwell you see—"

"Cease your drivel girl your face betrays your lies."

Not wanting to test his patience, Ruby decided to tell the Lion of her predicament. "My name is Ruby Rose, I'm not from Camarth nor the Imperium. I'm from a world called Remnant. I was a huntsman, during a battle. I was somehow transported to this planet about a week ago where Zabriel found me and since then I've been helping him defend the survivors."

"A huntsmen aye?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you hunted great beasts that assailed your world defending the innocent?"

"How'd you know?" she asked, perplexed that he had guessed correctly.

"My homeworld of Caliban faced a similar dilemma but instead of huntsmen we had knightly orders. I united the orders and drove the beasts that terrorized the Calibanite people for millennia to extinction," he told her, dropping her weapon into her hands.

"Anything else I should be aware of huntress Rose?" he asked. Hesitant to tell him that she was a psyker Ruby relented knowing he would find out eventually, better now than later.

"Hopefully it's not a problem for you Lion…uh?"

"Lionel El'Jonson."

"Yes Lionel—"

"Don't call me that."

"Jonson?"

"Nor that."

"What do you prefer than?"

"The Lion will suffice."

"Alright Lion I'm a psyker hopefully that won't be a problem," she told him.

"You have been taking the assistance of a feral witch Zabriel?" he asked the Dark Angel with some bewilderment.

"She is safe my lord, she is unlike the other psykers I've encountered, her fortitude and mental strength is unlike any I've seen before, if she were not I would have killed her the moment I found her" he told him.

"I can hear you, you know?" Ruby expressed with annoyance at Zabriel's last statement, the two ignored her.

"As you say my son," he said, eying Ruby with suspicion. "Know this if she signs of corruption I will do what needs be done for safety of everyone"

"I will not stop you."

"Hello? I'm still here, could you two not discuss killing me?"

"Yes the girl speaks the truth enough of this useless prattle," The Lion spoke before turning to Zabriel once more. "Zabriel," he said. "I must know our situation. What of the Imperium? What of my brothers? What of my Legion?" He's not going to be happy, she thought, thinking back to Zabriel's previous comments on how much the Imperium had changed since his time.

Zabriel snorted a laugh. "Where to begin? An exact date is… difficult to ascertain even for someone who has been counting the passage of time for four centuries."

"You don't even know what year it is?!" Ruby asked, shocked by the Astartes statement.

"As is the nature of the warp to fickle all things young Ruby," he replied before continuing with the Lion.

"The Emperor remains interred on the Golden Throne, or so His subjects believe - I certainly cannot say for sure one or the other. He is worshiped as a god-"

"He is what?" Definitely not happy.

Zabriel shrugged his shoulders. "The Imperial creed. The Ecclesiarchy is just as fanatical as the bastard Word Bearers were in our day, only they have the full power of the Imperium behind them now. To deny the Emperor's divinity is to be sentenced to death. I believe most Space Marines have clemency on the issue, but I have little opportunity to engage any in conversation. Every person around you considers Him a god, and I simply keep my counsel on the matter," gesturing to the survivors of Camarth. The Lion closed his eyes looking tired when he opened them again.

"How did my brothers allow this?"

"They are gone," the destroyer said with a sigh. "All the loyalist primarchs were merely a memory by the time I was spat out by the warp. Be assured that I went looking for information, desperately trying to find some link to the life I knew, but I cannot even tell you who was the last to fall, or how it happened. Some say they are dead, some say they disappeared, some believe in the primarchs only as figures of myth and legend. The Imperium is now ruled by the High Lords of Terra."

The Lion's hand curled into a fist as he looked like he was going to punch something through gritted teeth he controlled his fury.

"And my Legion?" he manages.

"Rearranged by orders of Lord Guilliman." Zabriel tells him. "All the Legions were dissolved into individual Chapters. The Dark Angels remain, as a force of a thousand or so, with many other Successor Chapters affiliated to them".

"Guilliman," he hissed at the mention of the lord of Ultramar. "Never content with the work of others! He even wanted to improve on the design of our father! I should have dealt with him when he first raised his hand to me on Macragge, why could it not have been him who fell, instead of Sanguinius?" The hatred for his brother clear in his voice.

"I must go to Terra. If my father is still on the Golden Throne as you say, then if there is any scrap of life still in Him, any spark of His consciousness left, I will see Him"

Zabriel shook his head. "That may be a bit hard for us to do" Ruby spoke on his behalf.

"The huntress is right, such a thing is not possible. At least," he narrowed his eyes. "I would not consider it so. I do not know how you came to be here."

The Lion thought to himself before responding. "That is still something of a mystery to me, as well"

"Welcome to the club," Ruby sighed. The Lion ignored her comment.

"But why is travel to Terra not possible? Has humanity lost the use of the warp? Did all the Navigators die?" he bombarded Zabriel with.

"Nothing so prosaic," Zabriel said. "Did Halin and Sutik tell you anything about why the people of Camarth are reduced to this?" Gesturing towards the survivors.

"They said the sky opened, and the Bastards came," the Lion told them. "That it twisted everything, even the stars, and that I would see it when the sun went down." Ruby winced as he described the Great Rift, her eyes rang with phantom pain as she remembered first laying her eyes on the gash on reality.

"Accurate enough," Zabriel said. "Dusk is nearly upon us. If you will wait until then, my explanations will be more easily understood." The Lion nodded his head before turning his attention back to the corpse of one of Camarth's many warp-tainted beasts.

"I still require a knife," he announced to the survivors, nobody came forward.

"You can't eat the meat, it's poisonous," Ruby told him

"I have no intention of eating it," he responded. Grabbing a knife from her waist the young huntress handed it to him, with it looking comical in his giant's armored hand.

As the sun went down Zabriel and Ruby still found the Lord of the First busy with skinning the beast. Hearing their footsteps the Lion looks up to the sky upon the Great Rift that now made itself known.

"This is, I presume, is what will keep me from Terra?" he asked the pair.

"Yes," Zabriel replied. "The Great Rift. So far as we know it splits the entire galaxy in two, but since the Astronomicon is obscured and warp travel is impossible to undertake for more than a few light years at a time, actually finding that which is not easy. Similarly astrotelepathy is extremely limited. Even though we are not in the Rift, the warp is so disturbed that any form of long range communications is virtually impossible. If not actively dangerous to those involved. Some claim the Rift has actually swallowed the rest of the galaxy, but I do not believe that," he continued. "Although I admit I have no evidence with which to support that conviction."

The Lion mutters something to himself barely audible for Ruby to pick out, what's the Ruinstorm? She asked herself.

"So, we are cut off from Terra, and the center of the Imperium's power. Warp travel is difficult and dangerous, astropathic communication likewise. The fabric of the Imperium has, I suspect, come apart and reavers have taken advantage?" he asked them.

"Sounds accurate," Ruby replied dowrily, the youth's sarcasm annoying the Lion.

"Xenos and Chaos alike 'The Bastards' is how the people of Camarth refer to the warband which descended on their planet and ruined it, although they refer to themselves as the Ten Thousand Eyes- mutants, heretics, and some twisted Astartes. I came to this planet in secret, before the Great Rift opened, since it was garrisoned by a Chapter of Space Marines who had no link to the Dark Angels, and therefore my little brothers would find it harder to persecute me here even if they learned of me. The bastion was the first target of the renegade's attack, and it did not survive. The people of the planet who were not killed or enslaved now live like this. I stumbled into this group, me and the huntress have done our best to protect them, since neither of us can leave this world, nor gain aid. I do not even know if there is any aid to summon."

The Lion sat in silence for a time before speaking up once more. "I have lived like this before," the Lion says to them. "Isolated outposts in a forest, surrounded by malicious, intelligent beasts that would kill us all if they got the chance. Tell me Huntress Rose, you and I come from different yet similar worlds. What do you propose we do in this situation?"

Ruby thought to herself before responding to the Lion's question. "Organize what resources you have, maybe set up a supply line if you can with the little support you have and harass the beasts with hit and run tactics to whittle them down."

The Lion smiled at her response the first time he had since the two had met him. "A sharp mind, this one Zabriel, a true warrior you have found."

"What do you seek, my lord?" Zabriel asked.

"To repeat what I did on Caliban and exterminate the beasts from Camarth," he responded.

"You seek to forge a new Imperium?" he asked the Lion, causing him to growl at annoyance at Zabriel.

"No, only my father had the capacity to do that. Now the galaxy burns, my brothers are gone, and I am cut off from Terra," he told them. "If all I know of my father's work has been destroyed, then I shall return to what I knew before. Keeping people safe." The Lion noticed the psyker girl give him a warm smile at his last comment. "My father was a conqueror, and I became a conqueror on His behalf-" he noticed Ruby's face smile turn to a frown of annoyance seeing the anger she suppressed. "-but that is not my nature. I kill enemies, and all of humanity's enemies are my enemies. I shall demand no praise from the people of Camarth, and certainly no worship" the word filled with hate. "But I will kill their oppressors. They may follow me or not, as they wish"

"You intend to attack the Ten Thousand Eyes?" Zabriel asked, he and Ruby both bewildered by the Lion's plan.

"I take it they still have a presence on this world, since the humans are fearful of being noticed?" he asked the space marine ignoring their response.

"They do," he replied before grimacing. "Very well, I can lead you to their closest stronghold, if that is what you wish"

"Will you fight?" the Lion asked Zabriel.

"I was a Destroyer," he replied, looking away from them. "I eradicated humanity's enemies with everything our Legion could bring to bear. I now have nothing more than a pair of bolt-pistols and a chain blade, and so I have not brought this filth to battle, since I knew I would be overwhelmed and any protection these might have from roving bands would be gone. However, if the Lord of the First is going to war…" Zabriel looked back into the Lion's eyes. "Then yes, I will fight. My lord."

The Lion turned his head to Ruby "And what of you Ruby Rose Huntress of Remnant? Will you join in my war against the Ten Thousand Eyes?"

"I made an oath as a huntsman to protect the innocent that is my duty, if you are doing the same then yes I will also join in your fight." Her words caused the Lion to smile. "Now enough wasting time we have a planet to free.

Chapter Text

Weiss woke up finding herself in a ruined baroque city of immense size; the city's architecture resembled that vaguely of the older parts of Vale she had witnessed when at Beacon but more grand in scale. Finding her saber Myrtenaster a few feet from her she picked the blade up and checked its magazine chamber. Looking around the city the first thing the Atlesian noticed of the city was the smell, it smelled of ash and cooked flesh. Covering her nose in disgust she found the stench too potent, eventually getting used to the smell as she walked through the abandoned streets. As she walked she noticed her movement felt more fluid as if someone had lowered the gravity, jumping in the air to test her theory she found herself having leapt twenty feet into the air something that should've not been possible even with her enhanced agility provided by her aura. Falling back to the ground in a slow drop Weiss used the lower gravity to her advantage and began leaping across the city. Traveling deeper in the city Weiss found the streets littered with the desecrated corpses of thousands horrifying the huntress. Pikes with the heads of the dead littered every corner, others were crucified, their face's displaying the pain of their last moments, on the walls of a building was an eight-pointed star painted with blood, having turned black ages ago. Looking at the symbol hurt Weiss' eyes so she avoided her gaze as best as she could as she continued her journey into the city.

Running past a massive church she caught the screams of a man inside. Her sense of justice kicking in, she walked towards the church that must have been magnificent in another time but was now desecrated with the dreaded eight-pointed star and the dead. Sneaking through the church to the nave she found an unholy congregation taking place. Dozens were surrounding a large stone table where a man tied down screamed his voice out, they wore a mix of robes and ramshackled armor many hid their faces behind hoods or masks with them carrying various bladed weapons, and odd looking guns to match. Looking at this rabble of mad men in front her the only thing they seemed to share in common was that eight-pointed star. However what really caught her attention were the ten giants overlooking the man on the stone table. They were massive, dwarfing the cultists in size each wore crimson armor that was engraved in a language unknown to Weiss with them carrying massive blocky rifles to match their intimidating size. Ruby would love to see how those things worked. Thinking back to her young team leader's obsession for weapons of mass destruction. Leading this congregation was another of the giants, his armor was more ornate with flames belching from his backpack that he and the other metal giants wore, across his armor were parchments of paper that were written in that same weird language that covered their armor, as she squinted her eyes in her horror she realized that the parchment wasn't paper at all but human skin. Just what are these monsters? She thought to herself. In his hands the man carried a massive book while in his other was a spiked mace. His head was naked revealing a twisted face: a massive eight-pointed star was carved onto the man's head with small horns protruding from his bald head with eyes of malice red to match his menacing presence.

"We gather here today, my brothers and sisters to celebrate the glory of the gods!" the giant priest said, his voice a snarl. "No longer is this world enslaved to the chains of the unbelievers and to the beliefs of the Anathema for you have been shown the truth, the Primordial Truth, for we the Bearers of the Word are the messengers to the true gods of this universe we are their apostles their chosen in the plane of mortals," he paused letting the congregation cheer, with their cheers being profanities and praise to their dark gods. "Let us celebrate this liberation of the soul with this man's sacrifice, let the immolation of his being elevate us closer to our masters! Only then will the gods know we followers of the Urizen are true believers!" he declared as the crowd cheered again. Gesturing towards another of the crimson giants a crude ceremonial blade was offered to the dark priest. "To Khorne, to Tzeentch, to Nurgle, to Slaanesh, I give thee to the gods!" he said, picking up the blade raising it over to the man's chest, his screams even louder now. Having seen enough the huntress leapt into action firing a shot from her gun-blade punching a hole through one of the cultists. Dropping to the floor dead, the cultists and giants turned their attention to her.

"Who dares interrupt my sermon?!" the dark priest yelled before meeting his eyes with Weiss. "Kill the blasphemer!" he growled at the cultists who charged her. The young Atlesian with her saber carved a bloody path through them finding them easy opponents. Finishing off the last of the cultists she was left with the giants and their profane priest leader.

"Unworthy wretches all of them," the priest complained, before closing his book and handing the sacrificial dagger back to one of his subordinates. "You will not find me lacking mortal for the gods smile upon me, for I Nabu Ur-Var Ar'gaz Dark Apostle of the XVII Legion, Word Bearers declare this so," he said before raising his mace. Charging her with inhuman speed for something so large the dark priest swung his massive weapon down, barely dodging in time the mace instead broke a bench where she once stood. Firing a shot from Myrtenaster at the giant priest she found her shots only dent his armor. "Mere bullets will not harm me silly mortal," he mocked her, before raising his mace again before pausing mid swing confusing Weiss. She then began hearing the thrumming of a jet engine approach, looking at the stained glass window of the church that depicted a massive golden armored angel before being shattered by the arrival of four golden warriors that soared into the church. Their armor was similar in design to that of these so called Word Bearers however instead of profane scripture, and crimson armor these new warriors wore ornate golden armor with the symbol of a winged tear drop on their vermillion pauldrons. On giant jetpacks with bird wings they soared through the sky firing at the Word Bearers with the massive guns on their wrists and slashing with beautifully designed blades. Each warrior's helmet was either a menacing grill or face mask of what Weiss presumed to be the warriors' actual face. They look like angels, Weiss thought to herself. Slamming into the marble floor of the church one of the golden warriors surveyed the scene in front of him. Before meeting his gaze to the Dark Apostle.

"Dante," she heard Ar'gaz whisper, his already face turning pale at the sight of the golden warrior before he regained his composure and raised his mace. "Kill the corpse worshippers!" he yelled to his men.

"Pro Imperatore! Nam Sanguinius!" the golden warrior yelled in a language unknown to Weiss, raising his axe to the Word Bearers and charging them. Weiss watched as the four golden warriors gutted their way through the Word Bearers with the axe wielder cleaving his way through three of them in the matter of thirty seconds. As she watched the chaos in front of her she saw as the Dark Apostle approached methodically behind the axe wielder. Seeing him distracted Ar'gaz swung his mace down to end the golden warrior.

"Behind you!" Weiss yelled, summoning a glyph shield between the golden stranger and Ar'gaz formed just in time before the Dark Apostle's weapon could connect.

"What foul sorcery is this!" Nabu Ar'gaz yelled in disbelief, his eyes darting to the mortal girl from earlier before finding himself staring down the end of a melta pistol. His last thoughts being how he had been denied his moment of glory by a mere mortal before his upper body was turned into steam. The Dark Apostles body fell with a loud thump with it steaming from where the golden warrior's gun had shot at him. With their leader dead the angelic host quickly finished off the last of the Word Bearers. The golden warriors turned their attention to the man who was being prepared for sacrifice with them freeing him from his bonds.

"It is safe now go, my brothers will assure your safety," the golden warrior Weiss had saved told the man.

"Thank you my lord," he told him before running out of the church.

Turning their attention towards her the golden warriors raised their wrist mounted guns at her. Getting into a fighting stance with Myrtenaster raised Weiss prepared herself to fight through these golden warriors in a fight she knew she wouldn't win. Thankfully it didn't come to that as the warrior from earlier raised a hand telling his brethren to stand down. Walking towards her Weiss found the warrior massive in size easily being over seven feet in height. Standing in front of her the golden warrior got to a knee to meet her at eye level, his screaming face of mask meeting her eyes.

"I thank you for your assistance," he said with a booming voice. "If you had not used your powers to defend me I would've surely been killed by that heretic." Gesturing to the Dark Apostle's remains. "To whom should I owe my thanks to?" he asked her.

"My name is Weiss Schnee," she told him.

"Well then lady Schnee I thank you for your assistance," he told her, causing her to blush with embarrassment.

"And I ask the same, who do I owe my thanks to?" she asked in an attempt to get some answers on where she was.

"You dare insult the Lord Commander with your ignorance, witch!" one of the other golden warriors snarled at her.

"Daeanatos," the golden warrior said sternly, causing the one she presumed to be Daenantos to stand down before turning his head back to her.

"Forgive him, he merely does what his role entails," he assured her. "My name is Dante, Lord Commander of the Blood Angels Space Marine chapter, Regent and Warden of Imperium Nihilus," he told her.

Weiss' mind froze at Dante's words, finding none of the terms he just said familiar to anything on Remnant. From the minute she woke up in the city she had known something was not right but had pushed the thought aside finding any other possibilities of where she was as ridiculous, but Dante's words all but confirmed she was not on Remnant anymore.

"Is something wrong lady Schnee?" Dante asked her, realizing her shock and confusion were on full display to the giant warriors.

"Oh…no everything is fine just—"

"You are not from Tovin are you?" he asked.

"Yes," Struggling to come up with a reasonable lie the Atlesian gave up. "How could you tell?" she asked him.

"Your Low Gothic is not native to this world nor the surrounding sector," he replied.

"Low Gothic?" she repeated the term confused on its meaning. Dante sighed.

"As I thought, did any of the words in my titles sound familiar to you besides their base meanings? Such as Imperium, Blood Angel, or even Space-Marine?"

"No sadly," she replied meekly.

"A non-Imperial human on an Imperial world, how interesting never in my fifteen hundred years of living did I expect to meet a mortal such as you."

I'm sorry, did he say he's over fifteen hundred years old?! She thought, bewildered by the statement.

"Even more of a reason to kill this witch Lord Dante!" another of the golden warriors interjected raising his sword.

"No!" he growled to them, his calm voice having been replaced with fury.

"She is a wild witch who knows not of the Emperor's light you said it yourself!" Daeanatos said.

"Then she shall be tested by the Librarius for signs of corruption or instability. I shall not kill this mortal, she saved my life, we must be better! Lord Guilliman has declared so!" Dante said to his entourage regaining his earlier calm attitude. "Inform the Lord of Death I bring him a psyker to test for corruption tell him if she wavers that he is free to kill her," he finished. Getting back to his feet the four golden warriors began walking out of the church. Weiss had remained still, the huntress still grappling with her new reality.

"Come along witch, it is best not to keep Chief Librarian Mephiston waiting," one of the golden warriors said, pushing her to move along with them, breaking the trance she was in. Walking outside the church Weiss found the sky had cleared, having been too cloudy to see through before. The Atlesian's eyes went wide as she stared out to the clear sky, it was the color teal not blue, and in the horizon was a massive orb of gas that she presumed was another planet, with her being able to make out the faint shapes of three other planets (or were they moons?) in the sky. Being greeted by a massive blocky ship that was red in color Weiss observed more of the giant warriors however instead of gold armor they wore crimson armor the color of blood. Each of the giants carried massive guns similar to the ones carried by the Word Bearers but clean and not desecrated, these must be the Blood Angels, she thought to herself, how on the nose, she sighed in her head. Walking to the massive gunship where the giants strode out the five walked over to one of the Blood Angels. His armor was slightly different to others with his helmet being gold like Dante and his right pauldron yellow, around his waist he wore tabard where he carried a massive saber that was as tall as her. Greeting Dante by crossing his hands across his chest he stood at attention.

"Lieutenant Tolermon, this girl will be your new charge, take her back to the Absolution's Ire so Mephiston may evaluate if she is a danger," he ordered.

"What of the remaining traitors?" he asked.

"I can handle that Lieutenant do not worry the sons of Lorgar shall be routed from Tovin by ends day."

"As you command my lord," he replied before gesturing to her to walk towards the ramp of the massive gunship as Dante and co walked off. Sitting down in the gunship Weiss found the seats to be small even for someone of her stature. Joining Tolermon and Weiss were ten more Blood Angels, each of their armor an artistic masterpiece as if they had handcrafted it themselves with none looking the same. Sitting down in his seat Tolermon informed the pilot of their mission with the seats clamping down on them. Slowly she felt the ship thrum with power as it slowly rose into the air. Midway through the journey to the Absolution's Ire Weiss noticed how her hair floated as if she were underwater; before realizing she felt no weight at all in her body deducting that there was no longer any gravity in the ship. After what felt like an hour the gunship set down roughly with the clamps undoing themselves. As the ramps of the ship went down the teal sky of Tovin was replaced by the same baroque architecture of the city she woke up in. Turning her head around she viewed a small green blue orb in a dark void, shocked to see that she was in fact in space and no longer on Tovin. Her amazement would be short-lived when one of the Blood Angels that accompanied her on the gunship tapped her shoulder with the barrel of their gun, nodding his head for her to follow them. Doing as the red giant commanded Weiss and the Blood Angels were greeted by another of the giants this time his armor an azure blue with his head bare and eyes glowing motes of crackling energy with him carrying a staff of a horned animal's skull on it.

"Epistolary Rhacelus, we greet you in the blood," the Lieutenant said to the blue warrior.

Rhacelus' eyes moved to Weiss, their crackling power met her gaze. "Is this the witch girl Lord Dante wishes us to evaluate?"

"Indeed," Tolermon replied.

"I am unimpressed," he said as he eyed, causing a hint of annoyance in Weiss. "Nevertheless if Lord Dante wishes it, who am I to judge," he sighed. "Come girl my master wishes to see you," he spoke to Weiss. Following Rhacelus Weiss couldn't help but find her eyes wandering across the ship as they walked its halls, finding it pristine both in how clean it was and how and the art that accompanied it. During their journey Weiss encountered the mortal crew who were dressed in regalia similar to that of Atlesian military officers but with the key difference being their outfits were red instead of white with the crest of Atlas replaced by a teardrop at what she guessed was the symbol of the Blood Angels. They passed by other Space-Marines who were on their duty of patrolling the halls of the ship she presumed with them eventually passing by a cadre of what looked like mummified corpses heavily augmented that were being overseen by a weird red robed figure working on some part of the Absolution's Ire. Cringing at the sight Weiss covered her mouth feeling like she was gonna vomit when one of the corpse cyborgs turned its dead eyed face to her, its mouth slack jawed and eyes dead inside. Walking a bit faster to Rhacelus' side the two continued their stroll the ship.

"We are here," Rhacelus said at last as they approached a massive set of doors, standing at guard were a pair of blue armored warriors similar to the Epistolary with another at guard, his armor more ornate then the two guards.

"I Epistolary Rhacelus request entry to the Librarius," the Librarian spoke to his fellow.

"Do you approach free of doubt and mental weakness?" he asked Rhacelus.

"I do," he replied.

"Then I bid you enter."

The Librarian then performed a short ritual that caused the doors to shudder open. Walking into the Librarius as she had learned it was called Weiss couldn't help but feel impressed by the massive sanctum looking around the chamber she saw most of its space was given over to rooms that contained shelves of weird looking crystals. Finding it mostly empty besides a few other warriors in similar garb to Rhacelus that walked around or who stood cataloging the crystals in silence. Approaching a massive door of silver and brass within the sanctum, Rhacelus pulled out a ring of keys from his belt causing Weiss to raise an eyebrow. Unlocking each of the many locks that were on the door while muttering something under his breath that Weiss couldn't understand the door opened. Stepping into a spherical chamber they found the room in darkness with the only illumination being the faint glow of blue flames that lined the walls as torches. A thick mist was present in the room making the already dark room harder to maneuver around for the huntress. Wandering around the chamber Weiss found it lacking in the decoration and beauty that the rest of the Absolution's Ire had with only a few minor works of art decorating the room. With the only decoration to the room being what appeared to be a fancy looking coffin. That's not creepy at all, she thought to herself. Squinting her eyes Weiss spotted a portrait in the chamber catching her curiosity as she walked over to the picture. Looking at the portrait it displayed a pale gaunt faced man with long blonde hair flowing from his head. He wore armor similar to that of the Blood Angels but with the added difference being that it resembled flayed skin. In his left hand he held an ornate blade that seemed to crackle with arcane red energy. The man sent shivers through her as she looked at the portrait before thinking back to her encounter with Dante, Weiss remembered him mentioning how she would be taken to someone named the Lord of Death to see if she were a danger. Looking back at the portrait it slowly dawned on the huntress who the picture probably portrayed. Sweat now dripping from her head as a sense of dread came over her as she felt something behind her back. Turning her head she was greeted by the revenant in the picture, the so-called Lord of Death, Mephiston the Chief Librarian of the Blood Angels.

Chapter Text

His eyes were a glowing red similar to that of the Grimm. For too long the Lord of Death stared at her all while the huntress waited in bated horror for what the Chief Librarian would do.

"Leave Epistolary, your work is done," he said, turning his head to Rhacelus who had remained in the chamber upon her arrival, his voice a low hoarse whisper. The lightning eyed Librarian bowed before stepping out of the room to leave the Chief Librarian alone with Weiss. As the chamber's door shut Weiss watched in horror as Mephiston evaporated into the darkness before reappearing on the other side of the room with a book in hand.

"What are you?" she spoke, her voice filled with fear.

"I ask myself the same," he replied. With Weiss feeling her fear rise as she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be fangs in his mouth before he walked off to a table and placed the book open on a page before grabbing a kettle he had and began boiling, it appeared to be…water? Standing in horror at the creature in front of her Weiss looked at the door pondering if she should make a break for it.

"I would not do that if I were you," he said. "If you try to escape I will be forced to kill you. Lord Dante has ordered this, until you are deemed safe you shall remain in the Librarius until I say otherwise," he spoke plainly to her.

"How did you-"

"How did I know you were thinking of fleeing?" he finished her sentence causing Weiss to pause as she trembled in fear. "I know it the same way as I know you are from a planet called Remnant, where beasts of darkness known as Grimm hunt the local populace and huntsmen are required to defend the innocent and how you are one such warrior. You have a sister named Winter, and little brother named Whitley, I know you hate your parents, your father because of his greed and your mother for her alcoholism. You trained and fought alongside a team of huntsmen, you called yourselves team RWBY, which might I add is a ridiculous name. You came to Tovin via a portal between time and space as you and your team sacrificed an entire nation, your home to crash and burn to stop a witch from obtaining a relic of great power."

+I know all this and more about you Weiss Schnee,+ he said in her mind before handing the speechless huntress a cup of tea which she reluctantly took and sipped at, finding it bitter with little flavor.

"Well at least I don't have to worry about people believing me since you decided to read my mind without my permission mind you," she said before drinking the tea. With her finding the drink relaxing to her nerves in the presence of the Lord of Death.

"I did not need permission to read your mind for it is an open book that I merely had to glance at it to see the greater picture, quite odd these psychic powers you possess are very oxymoronic," he replied now looking at the book while he talked to her.

"Psychic powers?" Weiss said confused at the Lord of Death's comment. "Are you referring to my aura and semblance?"

"What else would I be referring to?" he said, rolling his eyes before sighing. "I forget you know nothing of your true nature nor that of the warp."

"The warp, my true nature?" she repeated, could someone just explain to me what is going on?

"If answers are what you seek I shall provide them in time huntress," Mephiston replied to her, as she remembered that he could read her mind.

"Then answer me this: what in the brothers is the Imperium? Who are you people? And what do you mean by the warp and my true nature?"

The Lord of Death closed his book before standing from his chair. "Direct as I predicted," Mephiston sighed again. "Very well."

"The Imperium is the dominant galactic power in the Milky Way galaxy and has been for the past ten thousand years. It claims over a million worlds. Under its banner in which trillions of humans call home, and is ruled from the throneworld of Terra upon which the Master of Mankind sits upon the Golden Throne. Tovin, the world you landed on is one such planet."

A million worlds that can't be possible.

+You will learn that the galaxy is filled with many impossible things made possible, Weiss Schnee,+ Mephiston spoke into her mind causing her to frown with annoyance as he made another intrusion into her head.

"Dante mentioned something about being Regent of Imperium Nihilus. What was he referring to?" She asked Mephiston.

"In recent years the Imperium has found itself divided in two, Imperial Sanctus where the light of the Astronomican still burns bright and warp travel is still possible and Imperial Nihilus where it is nearly all but impossible to traverse the stars. The Lord Commander's title refers to him being placed in charge of this half of the Imperium by Roboutte Guilliman, the Imperial Regent of Imperial Sanctus himself," he explained.

So he's like a king?" Weiss asked, struggling to find a similar term that Remnant used for Dante's title.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, though I would not use that term beyond these chambers let alone near Lord Dante's face, to imply him a king would be to say he has turned from the light of the Emperor" he warned her.

"Duly noted," thinking back to the wrath Dante displayed when his guard suggested killing her. I do not want to get on his bad side.

"What about you guys who are the Blood Angels, and why are you all giant?" she asked, deciding to change subjects satisfied for now on her answer.

"We are the Adeptus Astartes gene-crafted warriors designed by the Emperor to conquer the galaxy in the name of humanity and the Imperium, we are his angels of death and know no fear."

"That's certainly the claim," she remarked at the last bit. "Still that does explain who the Blood Angels are."

"The Blood Angels are but one of a thousand chapters of the Adeptus Astartes since the days of the Great Crusade and Horus Heresy we of the Blood have served the Emperor proudly defending its people and living by the five virtues and five graces that our founder Sanguinius taught us"

"Sanguinius?"

"Yes Sanguinius, the Great Angel, most favored of the Emperor's sons from him does his blood flow threw us all"

"What's with the obsession with blood?" Weiss asked dryly, getting quite tired of the constant usage of the word.

"From blood we are born and from blood do we return when we die, it is the essence of all life" Mephiston replied, surprising Weiss not expecting an answer let alone one so philosophical.

"Of course you people have a reason," she sighed clasping at the bridge of her nose. "I guess that brings me to the final question right now: what is this "warp" and my "true nature" you keep speaking of?"

"The warp is the realm that mankind makes use of interstellar travel; it is a violent tempest of a dimension where one's thoughts are made real and emotion given form. Lord Dante informed me he found you in combat with the Word Bearers upon Tovin. I'm guessing you took notice of the eight-pointed stars those mongrels like to plaster everywhere?"

"Yes," she replied, remembering how the symbols stung her eyes every time she had to look upon them.

"They are the symbol of chaos, the dark entities that call the warp home and who the heretics you fought worship as gods," Weiss briefly wondered to herself if these chaos gods had any connections towards the god of darkness that created the Grimm on Remnant.

"I do not believe this god of darkness you think of is aligned with the Ruinous Powers. From what I saw in your memories it is a different creature separate from the influence of the chaos gods and their servants."

"Could you stop doing that?!" Weiss exclaimed, frustrated having enough of the Lord of Death's continued violations of her privacy.

"Must I remind you I was entrusted to check you for corruption? Everything you do will be analyzed for weakness," he responded.

"Right," she sighed remembering why she was here to begin with.

"To answer your other question, I was referring to the fact you are a psyker, a human born with the ability to harness the powers of the warp itself and make the unreal, real," he said gesturing to a small ball of fire that he summoned in his hand before snuffing it out with a thought.

"Ok and?" Weiss asked, still not understanding the issue

"Most human psykers are unstable and volatile, for this they are feared across the Imperium and rightfully so, an untrained psyker is a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, that if not dealt with could spell the doom of a planet."

"Is that why you guys consider me a potential danger? You're afraid I'll just start killing people randomly one day?"

"A simplistic way to put it but yes we do fear you going on a "rampage" if your powers do prove unstable"

"Thanks," Weiss said sarcastically. "That still doesn't explain how I am different compared to other psykers though."

"Tell me, has there ever been a point when you used your so-called semblance, that you heard the whispers of dark beings telling you to act upon some heinous desire you held in the moment?" He asked her.

"What… no?" Weiss replied incredulously, deeply disturbed by his question.

"That is where the difference lies," he said. "Whatever psychic disciplines the people of Remnant follow, it shields their very souls from the predations of the Immaterium allowing you to use your powers without ill effects, not even I am capable of such a task," he told her, causing Weiss to smirk feeling proud.

"In saying that for such a miraculous ability you possess you have the mental shieldings of a blunt and even then not all blunts are as easy to read as you are," Weiss' smirk evaporated with the Lord of Death's last comment.

"Have I passed your test? Or do you still need to test me further for corruption while insulting me?" she asked glumly.

"You have passed, you show no signs that you are corrupted or will be a danger," Weiss smiled as she felt a massive weight lift off her shoulders. "However—" Causing Weiss to freeze up feeling the weight return. "I will have you remain on the Absolution's Ire to serve as a Blood Thrall and my personal equerry so I may train you and conduct my own tests relating to your unique psychic powers"

Weiss' face turned pale realizing what Mephiston was asking of her, she was to become this monster's personal servant. Like hell I'm doing that!

"I know you think of me as a monster, I believe the same, however what I offer is much better than the alternative," he said to her.

"And what would that be?" she asked curiously wondering what the other alternative would be and if it was better than being this ghoul's butler.

"We give you over to the Black Ships where you will either be killed for being too unstable or fed to the Golden Throne, or some other equally terrible esoteric fate," he told her bluntly.

"You're kidding right?" Weiss asked, bewildered by his statement.

"Do I look like the type of man to jest?"

Weiss sighed, she was going to regret this, she thought to herself. "What would you have your personal equerry do?"

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Yang was not doing fine to put it simply. Waking up on the streets of some back alley on what she later learned was a planet called Branx Magna (because humans on other planets was apparently a thing) Yang had quickly gotten herself into trouble with the local police or the "enforcers" they were called. Instead of getting thrown into a prison like she expected to be, the huntress had all her belongings removed (thankfully they let her keep her arm) and was thrown on a prison barge headed for some world called Atoma Prime, wherever the hell that was.

After spending what felt like a week of travel stuck in a cramped cell Yang who was currently laying down on her bed having nothing better to do to kill time felt the ship lurch out of the warp causing the huntress to breathe a sigh of relief. Since they had begun their journey Yang had felt like somebody had been watching her from the corner of her eyes. It unnerved her and made sleeping hard to downright impossible on some days during the voyage. With their exit that feeling of unease had left, thankfully.

Having reached their destination the guards began going down the cells banging their shock mauls at the bars of their cells to wake up any prisoners still asleep.

"Oi!" one of the guards yelled at her, "prisoner, 47329 get your arse up!" Having learned the hard way that fighting the guards was not worth it Yang got up from her bed and walked over to the now opened door..

"I see you still have that black eye I gave you," she said with a bit of a smirk as she approached them.

"No thanks to you, ya bitch," he sneered before motioning his shock maul towards her.

During a routine checkup to make sure she or none of the other prisoners were doing anything sketchy the guards had made the unfortunate error in touching Yang's hair causing her to go ballistic resulting in one black eye, a broken arm, and a sore manhood.

"Your buddy is walking a bit stiff, is he alright down there?" she asked, deciding to keep pushing the guard's buttons before she left. The guard began approaching Yang with his shock maul before being stopped by his compatriot who placed a hand between him and the blonde huntress. Walking out of her cell to join the other prisoners Yang decided to flip her jailers the bird as she marched with the other prisoners, glad at least Remnant and this Imperium she found herself in shared one thing in common culturally.

Following the other prisoners she alongside hundreds of others were corralled by a new set of guards. Wearing jet-black armor instead of the light teal the prison guards wore Yang and her fellow convicts were packed like sardines into a cargo craft in the hangar where they were flown to another nearby ship. After what felt like a long eternity that smelled of damp sweat and unwashed bodies they docked at a massive ship she later learned was called the Mourningstar where the guards from earlier forced them to a section of the ship simply called the "Strategium" what a pretentious name, she thought to herself as she entered. Forced into a massive chamber in the Strategium that resembled a chapel she and the other convicts were made to kneel down as if they were at mass as they waited in bated silence for whatever fate awaited them. A claxon then began sounding alongside the stirring of ancient cogs as a desiccated headless corpse swung down from the ceiling to greet them. A servitor she learned it was called, having seen dozens of the cyborg corpses prowling the decks of the prison barge during her journey to Atoma. A hologram then appeared where the head should've been displaying a bald man to the convicts.

"I am Grendyl," the servitor spoke, "It is my honor to serve the God Emperor of Mankind, and fight the darkness that contaminates the Imperium."

As yes the Imperium, the empire of a million worlds, the domain of the so-called God Emperor of Mankind that some of the prisoners wouldn't stop yapping about. Yang had become quite familiar with the Imperium upon her arrival and imprisonment, quickly gaining a hatred for the tyrannical interstellar empire. With every new fact she learned about the galactic regime curdling her hatred further.

"The supreme power of the Holy Inquisition is mine to wield. Who am I?" the hologram of Grendyl asked them.

"I am a warrior!" a few convicts yelled in reply before continuing.

"The hive-world of Atoma Prime is a vital stronghold of Imperial power. No matter the darkness, no matter the wracking storms of space, Atoma Prime must stand resolute. But a threat has come, the very darkness I am sworn to deny. Who am I?" it asked again. Again the convicts responded with the same phrase this time greater in voices.

"I have learned that Atoma is cursed by the stain of Chaos. Chaos is the Archenemy of Mankind," the hologram stated as it suddenly started flickering with the voice changing from a man to a woman. "It is the damnation of the Warp. It is everything I am sworn to oppose. Who am I?" Yang felt the zealotry of the convicts rise as more responded to the question. "It can only be cast out by the light of the Throne and the scorching touch of the flames. Who am I?"

Again the convicts yelled out the same war cry. "As an instrument of the Inquisition, and no matter the risk of body and soul, I will purge the hive from top to bottom—" once more the voice changed this time into a deep robotic voice, "—and cut out every scrap of darkness I find. Who am I?" Grendyl asked for a final time with the convicts responding in kind. "The Emperor protects," it said before flickering out with the servitor retreating to its little hiding spot within the chamber. A woman with a heavily scarred face then walked up to the podium where the servitor had once stood.

"WHO AM I?" she yelled.

"I AM A WARRIOR!" the chamber erupted in screams as an orgy of zealotry washed over them as they chanted the war cry or at least most of them. Yang sneered in contempt at her fellow convicts as they yelled, viewing the whole spectacle as a complete joke.

"How idiotic," the convict next to her said, his accent was thick and unlike the other prisoners and guards she had met by that point. Turning her head Yang was greeted by a man who must have been in his early to mid 40s, his head bald with him having a bushy mustache on his face and an eye tattooed to his forehead, he wore a weird metal contraption around his neck with his eyes glowing an unnatural blue. "I see I'm not the only one who finds this entire charade as a joke," he said, noticing her staring at him.

"Do you know what the hell is going on?" she asked him.

The man looked at Yang as if she had gotten hit on the head.

"Isn't it clear? We've been recruited into a penal legion," he replied as the chanting ended and the convicts began dispersing from the Strategium. Getting up the man went to join his other prisoners with Yang deciding to follow the man wishing to get some answers as to what the hell was going on.

"What do you mean by a 'penal legion'?" she asked, unfamiliar with the term.

The man sighed, "You're Cadian, you should be familiar with what this punishment holds for us," he replied, trying to walk away from the huntress before Yang stopped him with her bionic arm causing the stranger's face to twitch for a moment as he looked backed at her with a look of disgust.

"I do not in fact understand. I'm not from the Imperium, I have no idea what the hell you mean by that statement nor 90% of the shit that Grendyl guy just said."

The man's face then turned into bewilderment before whispering something that she couldn't hear.

"How in the throne did you end up here then?" he asked scrupulously, not believing her.

"It's a long story but the gist of it is I woke up in an alley and got into a fight that attracted the enforcers. Enforcers arrested me and threw me on a prison ship and now I'm here" she quickly explained.

Giving her a hard stare man groaned in annoyance. "Fine! Fine! FINE!" he said, "A penal legion is what happens when the Imperium wishes to throw bodies at a problem but doesn't want to waste valuable guardsmen lives for what are tantamount to suicide missions. The Imperials will instead collect all the criminals and scum they can find in a given sector and arm them. That's what we are, expendable soldiers to be used as cannon fodder in throne knows whatever meat grinder awaits us on Atoma. Knowing the Inquisition it will surely result in a death most gruesome for us."

"And when do we get released?"

"What do you mean by released?" he asked, confused by her question.

"Like set free, how long do we have to do this shit for?" causing the stranger to laugh at her before regaining his composure, his face serious.

"Never silly girl, only in death does duty end," he said, patting Yang's shoulder before walking off. Yang remained standing, her body frozen and face pale as she took in the gravity of what the stranger had just told her.

Chapter Text

After crying herself to sleep from the previous day and its revelations, Yang was summoned to the Strategium for her first mission. Being sent down to Tertium, the capital of Atoma Prime, Yang was assigned to her squad or a "Kill Team" as the Imperium called it with three other of her fellow convicts armed with whatever weapons the Inquisition had found in what she guessed was a dumpster by the looks of it. A part of her kill team was the strange man she had met in the Strategium the preceding day who she learned as they entered the Valkyrie was a psyker or in her own words an honest to brothers wizard! She discovered this fact when she sat down in the Valkyrie and noticed the distrustful looks the other two members of her squad gave the man of their group as he sat down.

"Is there something wrong?" she whispered to the convict next to her confused why they were giving the man the stink eye.

"Karkin course there's something wrong!" he hissed in a low whisper, "We have a bloody damn psyker with us! Damn bastard can't be trusted, he's as likely to kill us than the heretics down in the hive."

Turning her head to the man he found he had his arms crossed with a look of contempt for his fellows as they spoke.

"What the hell is a psyker?" she asked, confused why that was a big deal, causing the convict and his buddy to turn to her as if she were stupid.

"Insane mutant bastards that shoot fire from their arse and other freaky shit like that," he explained to her in a way that a five year old would understand. "You've been living under a rock or something?" he then prodded.

"So he's a wizard?" Yang asked.

"What in the throne of Terra is a wizard?"

"Uh... just what we call psykers where I'm from," she quickly made up on the spot. Looking at her for a long second the two shrugged their shoulders and went back to checking their weapons as they continued down to Tertium.

Breathing a sigh of relief Yang thought on what she was just told. Remembering back to when she first stepped onto the Mourningstar Yang remembered seeing a few other convicts with similar devices around their necks. Having learned quickly how horrifying the Imperium (and weird) at times was she had chalked it up to another quirk and decided she was better off not knowing. In saying that she did find it odd how many of the other convicts seemed to do their best to avoid their collared comrades in chains. Looking back with the information the convict had just told her she could understand their sentiment a bit now. The prisoners with metal collars she had observed didn't seem the most sane of mind.

Feeling the Valkyrie land the ramp to the clunky aircraft opened revealing a dilapidated polluted city the likes of which Yang had never seen before. From the little she had heard from their mission briefing this section or "hablock" of Tertium was called Throneside and was considered one of the nicer districts of the hive. Looking around the huntress found that hard to believe. It looked run down and the air smelled foul. Not even the slums in Mantle were this bad. Walking through the streets of the city Yang noticed it was absent from the bustle she had expected to find in such a densely populated metropolitan. With them only finding empty stalls and stores empty of customers where there should've been thousands walking about going about their business.

"Where the hell is everyone?" she asked, kicking a can that littered the dirty streets of the hablock.

"Inquisition must have put a notice in," one of her teammates suggested. As they continued walking through the desolate streets for some time before spotting the first other living souls besides them.

They were huddled in a group and wore mustard green robes that honestly looked really dirty on closer inspection with many of them wearing gas masks or other weird facial coverings. Whistling at the robed figures they turned their heads in their direction as Yang began waving towards them. The huntress then found herself on the ground as she was tackled down by one of her teammates looking up in anger, she found the psyker on top of her looking at her with a fearful look.

"What in the throne are you doing?!" he hissed at her as the other members of their team raised their weapons.

"Just waving, what's the harm in that?" she replied nonchalantly as she pushed the psyker off of her.

"Dummkopf! Did you not listen to the mission briefing?" he said "Those are the heretics we were sent to kill!" he replied with annoyance at her ignorance of the situation.

"Oh," she said, "Well I'm sure they can't be that bad if they're fighting the Imperium," she replied, brushing off the psyker's concerns.

"GRENADE!" someone in their squad yelled as a pus-filled shrunken head was hurled their way, before exploding in a cloud of green noxious mist. With one of her team members finding themselves unlucky enough to be caught in the middle of the blast. Stepping out of the cloud Yang and the rest of her squad were horrified by the sight they saw, the convict was covered in boils. His skin was now tinted green, as his flesh seemed to rot in real time, stumbling towards them for help before he eventually collapsed to the ground dead.

"Still wish to exchange pleasantries?" the psyker snarked, causing Yang to give him an annoyed stare.

"Throne this!" the other member of their squad said before attempting to make a run for it. Making it a few yards the convict's head disappeared in a red mist as las-bolt vaporized his skull.

"Damn they have a sniper," Yang said under her breath as she and the psyker were left as the only two survivors of their team as they took cover behind a fruit cart to avoid the same fate. All while the heretics began unloading at them with las-bolts and bullets.

Peeking out from their cover to fire at the cultists, Yang found one of her shots nail a heretic right in the head. That seemed to only agitate them more as the pair watched a hooded cultist with a massive machine gun step forward.

"DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR!" the lunatic yelled as he fired the oversized gun at them pounding their position with lead. Realizing they were stuck, Yang began formulating a plan with her getting a stupid idea.

"I need you to cover me," she told the psyker.

"Cover you?" he asked, confused. "Are you INSANE!" gesturing to the nutcase with the machine gun who was still firing at them.

"I have a plan," she told him, trying to reassure the psyker.

"Please tell me your plan does not involve running right at the enemy into their direct fire?" he asked with worry.

"Uhhh…"

The psyker's eye twitched.

"By the throne you got to be shitting me!" he screamed over the gunfire.

"Look, do you want to live or die here?" she asked him, annoyed by the man's attitude.

"Why no blunt I wish to die here in the gutters of a hive city while having my body desecrated by insane cultists that smell like piss," he said deadpanned.

"Wait, you serious?" confused if the man actually meant it.

"Throne you are dense, YES I want to live!"

"Then cover me," she said. Before the psyker could protest further she ran out of their cover causing him to call her various expletive and vulgar words.

Feeling bullets pinging off her aura as she rushed the nearest cultist. Yang grabbed her autogun like it was a bat and swung it at the nearest cultist skull. With her autogun shattering under the impact force. The cultists then stopped firing as they and the psyker stared at her slack jawed at the feat.

"Stupid Imperial technology, and their cheap ass weapons," she complained, ignoring the bewildered looks she was getting. Tossing what remained of the broken autogun aside Yang cracked her knuckles and loosened her neck, deciding her fists would be better in this situation. Staring at the horde of cultists that surrounded them Yang couldn't help but smirk.

"Alright which one of you smelly weirdos is next?!" she yelled, causing them to turn to each other wondering if she were insane or something.

"FOR NURGLE!" one cultist bellowed, deciding to break the short brevity, charging at her with a rusty shovel causing the rest of the cultists to resume their fire having come to a consensus on what to do about the huntress. Activating her semblance Yang's hair ignited with flames as her eyes changed from purple to a crimson red. Charging at the shovel wielding cultist Yang upper-cutted him, sending him flying fifty feet in the air before falling back down onto the pavement with a wet splat. Turning her attention to the other cultists she began carving a path through their numbers as they tried in vain to kill her, finding their bullets ineffective against her aura.

With the cultists distracted the psyker stepped out of his cover and began assisting Yang wherever he could as he summoned force shards in his hands and began throwing them into the cultist horde. Making her way to the mad gunner from earlier the hooded cultist desperately fired at Yang with no effect before his gun clicked dry causing him to freeze in terror as he found the huntress now in front of him with a rictus grin.

"Not so strong without that big gun of yours are ya," she mocked the robed maniac before punching him square in the chest sending him flying off the edge into Tertium's underhive, his scream echoing as he fell towards his painful death. Having realized they were outmatched the remaining cultists began making a run for it.

Smiling at her success Yang pumped her arms in the air with triumph as they fled, then her aura shattered. The sniper from earlier had decided to make his move. Collapsing on the floor Yang watched helplessly as the laser of the marksmen trained his rifle's sights on her head. Closing her eyes as she waited for the embrace of death to take her she instead heard a wet plop. Opening her eyes she found the psyker standing behind her his right arm raised and eyes glowing a violent blue before raising his other arm to her.

"What did you do?" she asked, confused on how she was still alive before taking his hand.

"I merely popped his head," he shrugged as he helped Yang back to her feet. This caused the huntress' eyes to widen in horror as she took a step back from the psyker in fear.

"Come now, is that anyway to treat your fellow witch sibling? Especially one who just saved your life?" the psyker asked.

Yang laughed.

"Psyker? Me? Last time I checked I didn't have a few screws loose like some of you and your other buddies. Also, didn't they put those collars on all your nutcases when they sent us to this shithole? Why didn't I get one smart guy?" she asked.

"Probably because the enforcers were too lazy to check your DNA for the psyker gene. And to be honest until now I thought you were blunt like the rest," he explained ignoring the ill remarks to his sanity.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, not understanding the last part.

"I mean your mental barriers are practically nonexistent. Most psykers have some form of shielding over their mind to prevent their thoughts from leaking out like the blunts but you don't."

"Huh, well that's a fancy way to say I have a weak mind," Yang replied not even angry at the man's frankly insulative answer.

"Nevertheless," he sighed, "I advise you to hide the fact you are a witch from Inquisition and begin building your mental barriers up. There are fates worse than being on this planet," the psyker told her, shivering as he recollected the horror stories he had heard of the dreaded Black Ships that prowled in hunt for his kind.

"And how the hell do I do that?" she asked him.

The psyker groaned.

"Of course you don't know that," he grumbled, "If we survive this mission, find me in the Mourningstar there I shall teach you."

"Oh how kind of you I could almost kiss you," she mocked the psyker.

"I do this out of principle, one psyker to another," he fumed, "nothing more!" the psyker said as he pried a gun from the hands of a dead cultist and handed it to Yang.

"So what's your name?" Yang asked, taking the gun he offered her, checking its magazine.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, aren't you going to be my teacher now or something?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," he sighed.

"Well what do you want me to call you because I don't believe three eyes or baldy would be very appropriate," the man's eyes glowed for a brief second before dimming back to normal as he took a deep breath and began muttering something to himself.

"My name is Fredrich," he told her after a long moment of recomposing himself.

"Does Fred work?" Yang asked.

Fredrich groaned as he rubbed a hand on his forehead. "Yes, whatever! At this point I do not care anymore," he groaned. Throne does this girl piss me off!

"Cool, names Yang, Yang Xiao Long," she said, raising her hand to shake. Looking at her hand for a hard second Fredrich hesitantly shook her hand. With introductions out of the way the two continued into the streets of Throneside to complete their mission.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in the dark of space sat a space station its architecture emasculate as it was oppressive, crude yet beautiful in its own way. Stylized on the structure was a massive I representing the Emperor's holy Inquisition for this was a base of the Ordo Malleus the so called "Daemon Hunters" of the Imperium of Man, the closest thing the decaying interstellar empire had to experts on the warp and the vile entities that dwelled in it. This however was no mere Inquitorial base for the Ordo Malleus; it was special, not because of the strategic value it held or the esoteric artifacts it contained. Nothing that trivial, no what was special about this star fortress were the individuals it contained locked away in its walls for this was a prison. The worst of the worst the galaxy had to offer all kept locked away by the Inquisition to do with, whatever fate that may be.

One such prisoner was a heretic of the foulest order his deeds stretching ten thousand years some noble most vile, chained to his cell his vision blinded with a null field to keep him from escaping with his witch craft this renegade was prized by the Ordo Malleus for the knowledge he had told their ordo. Designated prisoner IK91516 the Inquisition made sure to keep him under constant watch; everything he did was analyzed for signs of a potential escape, so dangerous was he that the Sons of Titan had been sequestered to have a permanent contingent of their brotherhood oversee him. His continued imprisonment was of the utmost importance to the Inquisition, especially after the opening of the Cicatrix Maledictum. Many of the higher ups within the station feared the reckoning that would be brought down on them if his dark master were to find the station.

But to Justicar Genesis Abron it was pure boredom or what equated to boredom to the Adeptus Astartes for about a dozen years he and his squad had been assigned to the station rarely leaving their post. Only leaving the chamber annually to do maintenance on their wargear. Standing vigil over the prisoner for throne knew what day the Justicar wished in the back of his head for something interesting to happen to satiate his boredom and break the monotony that had been his current assignment. He soon regretted having this thought as he felt the station shake.

"What was that?" one of his brothers voxxed to him. Attempting to get in communication with the station's command the Gray Knight found it filled with static.

"Communications are down," Abron told his brothers before the station shook once more with the room's lights going out.

"Brothers with me!" he ordered his men as they got into battle stance. Raising their force-glaives the Gray Knights waited in bated breath as they heard bolt shells explode beyond the chamber walls.

"Heretics," one of his brothers growled into the vox. The enemy was here, the Black Legion had finally come.

The gunfire grew louder as the traitor Astartes got closer to their position before reaching a crescendo as they stopped their fire abruptly. Muttering a final prayer to Him under his breath the door exploded filling the room with dust as traitor astartes rushed into the room and began firing their bolters at them. Rushing at the traitors with his force-glaive and firing at them with his wrist mounted bolters Abron and his men cut down the traitors with ease, the heretic astartes no match for the Sons of Titan. But as they fought on, Abron quickly took note of the enemy's number. There were too many, far too many. Abron had known the Black Legion would sacrifice much in freeing their charge but he had not realized to what extent. They were willing to sacrifice astartes lives like they were guardsmen if it meant freeing the prisoner. Slowly the glyphs in his helmet went crimson as one by one his brothers were overwhelmed and laid low by the seemingly endless tide of traitors. Still Abron remained, with each fallen brother only motivating the Gray Knight to fight all the harder, even as he stood alone. Lancing his glaive through what must have been his thirtieth kill the traitors paused in their attacks as they cleared the entrance.

Strutting into the chamber on clawed feet was an astartes in pink and black armor decorated in vulgar symbols and various fetishes. His helmet was a silver face mask with a vox grill where a mouth should've been with a long top knot adorning the top of his head. In his hands he carried two curved sabers with a haughty arrogance Abron only seen in the twisted sons of Fulgrim. Raising one of his sabers towards him the chaos champion beckoned a challenge to the Justicar.

Charging the traitor marine, Abron attempted to thrust his glaive right through the heretic's twin hearts but found his attack parried without effort by the chaos champion's twin blades. Driving his glaive up it left the Gray Knight's chest exposed. Aware of this Abron freed one of his hands as he raised his gauntlet and attempted to fire from the bolter attached to his wrist. Firing a burst bolt-rounds at the traitor the Gray Knight was bewildered as the masked astartes dodged his fire with ease. Slicing his left arm off the heretic plunged his saber deep into Abron's chest, twisting the blade in him the Gray Knight staggered as his hold on his glaive loosened before dropping the force weapon to the ground. Sliding the blade out of his chest the marine turned his head to the side before kicking the Justicar aside as he dropped to the ground defeated.

"How disappointing," the chaos champion sighed with a purr before turning up the power field generator of his saber to clean it of the Gray Knight's blood before walking over Justicar's corpse to his prize. With the last of the defenders now defeated the hereteks were free to begin their work, entering the room the twisted tech priests worked on opening the cell door. While the corrupted priests worked the remaining traitors with the silver faced warrior began pillaging the corpses of the dead of any useful gear and nicknacks they had on them.

After what felt like an eternity to the silver faced champion the door to the cell was finally opened. Pushing aside the tech priests the silver masked astartes strode into the prison cell to greet the prisoner.

"Telemachon Lyras," a voice spoke faintly in the center of the cell as he entered.

"Brother," he replied in kind, approaching the prisoner in chains.

"I see you still wear that repugnant perfume you adore so much," the prisoner remarked.

Lyras chuckled, "The Inquisition seems to have treated you well," he replied before slashing at the chains binding his brother's legs and arms. Standing up the astartes using his superhuman strength ripped off the contraption that had inhibited his connection to the warp. Tossing it to the side the prisoner felt once more the embracing touch of the immaterium flood into his being.

"Tell me brother?" he asked, "has Ezekyle done it?" the sorcerer said stretching limbs starved of use after years in chains. Before slaves and traitor tech-priests arrived and attempted to help him into his wargear. Waving them away the prisoner's eye glowed as the armor the mortals carried floated out of their hands as he donned his panoply of war himself.

"The Cadian Gate is shattered, the eye has split the galaxy in two with it the Imperium," Lyras told his friend as the last plates of ceramite locked into place on his body and his power pack made a low hum as it jumped to life.

"As our brother predicted," the sorcerer smiled as he clicked his helmet on. With his armor on, the two warriors began walking out of the prison cell.

"Do we march on Terra?" he asked Lyras scrupulously, his helmet turning his voice into a metallic growl.

"Not yet, there have been a few snags…"

"What snags?" he demanded of the raptor lord.

"The 13th has returned, the Avenging Son lives once more," the prisoner stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened as his face went beneath his helmet at the development. This was unexpected. "His so-called Indomitus Crusade has caused issues but our victories at Gathalamor, Nachmund, and the Pale King's offensive on Ultramar have stalled much of his efforts; the Crimson Path still remains," Lyras continued.

The sorcerer nodded in approval before continuing in their stroll of the station.

"What does our brother do now?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow beneath his helmet.

"Big things brother," Lyras said, "he has the Legions scouring the galaxy for a weapon that shall change the balance of the Long War. With it we will crush the corpse worshippers once and for all and be victorious!" Lyras told him his voice filled with dark jubilance.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed, do you not trust in our brother Iskandar?" Lyras mocked.

"I trust in the Warmaster fully Lyras, if I didn't our brotherhood would not exist," Khayon said, "Now then let us depart this station at once. Ezekyle will need his herald."

"What of Sargon?" Lyras asked.

"Leave him. His mind is broken, the Warmaster has no use for broken things," Khayon told the raptor with Lyras shrugging to his answer. With that the traitors left the station broken, its halls bloodied and desecrated with not a soul alive. Or so they believed. By some miracle or stroke of luck Abron had survived what should've been a lethal blow, rising with some effort the Gray Knight stood up. Shuffling his way through the station the Gray Knight eventually reached the chambers that housed the Astropathic Choir. As expected as he entered the chamber, the Astropaths were dead. Their bodies mutilated beyond recognition, the justicar searched their ruined corpses frantically for an intact psychic resonator that the astropaths used to send their thoughts across the vastness of space. Finding one intact, the Gray Knight undid the seals of his helmet and removed it before placing the esoteric device on his head.

While not trained to be an astropath Abron was skilled enough with his abilities to act as one. Satisfied that he had formed a message that would be decipherable by the adepts of the Astra Telepathica the Gray Knight used up what little strength he had left to send out his message into the immaterium. His hope being it would reach a nearby Astropathic Relay and not be lost in Imperial bureaucracy. His duty done, the astartes pulled the device free from his head and walked over to a nearby wall as he slumped down. Feeling the last of his life slip from him, Genesis Abron's last thoughts were him praying that his death was not in vain and he and his brothers would be avenged.

Chapter Text

The Lion had Ruby and Zabriel move out at the dawn of day after the pair had advised him that it would be more safe to remain the night in camp due to beasts that stalked the forests of Camarth during the dark. Making their last preparations as the sun rose in the horizon of the alien world, Ruby was doing some last minute weapon's maintenance on when the Lion walked up to her causing the huntress to freeze as she felt the primarch's aura wash over her.

"Zabriel informed me of your odd psychic powers," he said, "your so-called semblance as your people like to call it. I wish to see it in action."

Unable to speak Ruby merely nodded her head in acknowledgment. Placing Crescent Rose to the side, Ruby got up from the log and used her semblance turning into a cloud of rose petals before the primarch eyes reforming her body thirty feet away from him. Finishing her demonstration the Lion bent over as he picked up a rose petal formed from her petal burst, looking at the flower in his gauntleted hand the Lion observed as it faded before his eyes.

"Your name fits with your powers, Ruby Rose," he said, standing back up causing Ruby to blush with embarrassment at the comment from the Lord of the First.

"My lord you embarrass huntress Rose," Zabriel said, having watched the demonstration from a tree he had been leaning on.

Turning his head to Zabriel the Lion looked at the Destroyer with an annoyed look. "I merely compliment her skills, Zabriel," he said, "my comments were not made as an insult."

This then sparked an argument between the two demi-gods all the while Ruby watched awkwardly unsure if she should say something before smiling as the pair went at it. At least I'm not the most socially inept person here, she mused. Shrugging her shoulders Ruby decided to let them work it out themselves, walking back to the fallen tree she had laid Crescent Rose the huntress went back to cleaning her scythe.

Traveling to the stronghold the three were armed with little in terms of the proper fire power, with Zabriel carrying only his twin bolt-pistols and chainsword, while the Lion only carried the knife Ruby had given her the previous day, and Ruby her Crescent Rose. Zabriel had informed her before their departure that her scythe would be poor against the ceramite plating that astartes usually wore; however, to Ruby it was better than nothing. Leaving the camp the three bid farewell to the refugees before marching into the alien forests of Camarth for their destination. After hours of walking the three came across the bastion that had once been an outpost of the Ruby Crescent Chapter, Redmoon Keep as Ruby learned it was called.

The Lion paused as they reached the ridge peering over to the city.

"That is where your refugees came from?" he asked Zabriel pointing to the abandoned city.

Standing atop the mountain Ruby squinted into the distance as she caught the vague outline of a vast city. Zabriel had informed her that the city was not safe to venture to having been infested by cultists and the dangerous plant life of Camarth since the Ten Thousand Eyes invaded. Looking at the abandoned city the huntress was reminded of Vale with the architecture being eerily similar, only much grander compared to the Remnannite kingdom.

"Yes," the Destroyer replied. "It's perimeter was protected by an ion field which incinerated any plant material that touched it. Otherwise it would have been overrun by the forest within a year."

"As has happened now," the Lion noted.

"And these shades in the canopy," he pointed to the forest, "are they natural?"

"I have not made a detailed study of the planet's biology," Zabriel admitted, "but it is my belief that they are not. Deadly though the forest is, some of the locals were familiar with it to an extent, and as we moved through it they have warned us away from areas they consider to be tainted."

"Chaos has this planet in its grip, then," the Lion muttered, mentioning what Ruby had learned from Zabriel was mankind's greatest enemy in the galaxy. "But it has not closed its fists completely."

"Should we expect patrols?" he asked as they moved into the forests again.

"We have largely avoided this area," Zabriel explained. "But I do not believe the filth are that organized. Sometimes they send rampaging parties into the forest to hunt for survivors, or set fires and hack at the trees if they find none, but those appear to be at random. Besides which," he added, "the forest has no more love for them than it does the Imperium. Parts of Camarth's jungles may be truly corrupted, but even the rest will try to strangle or eat anything that passes through it, without care for what powers they are allied to. The traitors know better than to wander without reason."

"All the better to take them by surprise," the Lion said, stepping around an area before walking further. Zabriel and Ruby looked up seeing thin vines in the tree line, the Destroyer had told the young huntress of their danger upon her second day on Camarth only surviving his encounter with the plant through sheer luck.

"So what's the plan?" Ruby asked.

"Eradicate them," the primarch said plainly as he continued walking through the forest. The huntress looked at the Lion, confused by his answer. The Lion stopped before turning his head to them. "I cannot plan further until we see the terrain."

"My brother Sanguinius used to talk about fate. He knew the time and manner of his own death. I still find such a thing hard to countenance, but…" the Lion breathed in causing Ruby and Zabriel to feel uncomfortable having the primarch's focus on them.

"Perhaps my brother's destiny was set, whereas others are not," the Lord of the First said. "I certainly claim no foresight as exhibited by him, or that wretch Curze, for that matter. But I find it hard to believe that we cheated death only to die here." Zabriel shrugged at his words while Ruby pondered the Lion's words before frowning.

Since arriving she had debated with herself for the last week if her arrival on Camarth was a stroke of luck or a punishment for her sins on Remnant. Was it really a defiance of fate she survived? Or was it all just a sick game by some perverted god to watch her suffer? The Lion's face darkened at their response.

"I have no use for fatalism," he said to them. "This is no worthy cause, merely a task that must be completed. I expect you two to still be living once we are done here, Zabriel of Terra, Ruby of Remnant."

Turning away the Lion continued his ascent up the mountain bringing them to the mouth of a long dead volcano. Hurrying after the primarch Ruby and Zabriel but especially Ruby found keeping up with the giant a difficulty being forced to use her semblance to keep up with the two transhumans.

Coming across burnt patches of forest the three came across hundreds of dead alongside the remains of the defenders. Pinching her nose at the reeking smell of decayed flesh, Ruby found herself feeling sick, not used to the scent of death like Zabriel and the Lion were. Judging from the amount of dead around the deceased defenders it seemed like the Ten Thousand Eyes had taken Redmoon Keep through sheer numbers. Getting closer to the bastion the Lion pointed to a dark fissure at the keep's walls.

"Explosives?" Ruby asked, having pulled her hood to cover her nose from the smell. "Looks like they used a lot."

"I have seen astartes' remains," The Lion replied grimly. "This was not merely an ill-equipped rabble. However, they have not sealed the entry point again."

"Well that was stupid of them," Ruby noted.

"Indeed, they are overconfident in believing themselves masters of this world," Zabriel added as he poked around the mass grave. "The ones I have fought in the forest never expect anything other than easy prey." Ruby felt a pang of anger rise in her at the Destroyer's final comment, the Ten Thousand Eyes and their actions here on Camarth disgusted her to no end, their treatment of its citizens was deplorable. If it took her last breath Ruby would make them pay for their crimes here she would make sure of that.

"Seems dumb to climb the walls if they have the front door wide open," Ruby said looking again at the breach the Ten Thousand Eyes had made.

"A fine observation, huntress Rose," the Lion replied, his voice now booming as he slipped his helmet on before moving towards the hole. Plunging into the fortress, Zabriel and Ruby followed the primarch.

"No power," Zabriel said, as he scanned the tunnel for traps. "The conduits here are dead."

"Then we go farther in," the Lion replied, "and we stay alert for anything which might have sharper senses than our own in this blackness."

Walking towards a crumpled door the trio walk through into a hanger. Finding dozens of dead bodies scattered about Ruby took notice of the various odd mutations that many of the corpses had.

"What are they?" she whispered to Zabriel as they walked through the hanger.

"Mutants," the Lion replied as they continued deeper into Redmoon Keep. Moving deeper through the labyrinth that was the bastion they eventually came across a door with light.

"I thought this was a space marine outpost? So far I haven't seen any corpses that look like one." Ruby whispered as they approached the light. "Doesn't that seem weird?"

The Lion nodded his head.

"Maybe they moved the bodies?" Zabriel suggested. "Their kind are known to strip the dead for equipment, deface the dead, and perform… dark rituals with the remains." The Lion suppressed a growl before motioning to his companions with his hands to be quiet.

Hiding behind the doorway the three heard the shuffle of feet as they watched a cultist in simple dark red robes walk past them. Debating for a moment on whether to kill or interrogate the cultist the Lion came to a decision when two eyes suddenly sprouted from the back of the cultist's bald head followed by a blue tongue spilling out of the mouth that was accompanied by an unearthly scream that seemed to touch Ruby's very soul. His scream was short lived however as the Lion stepped forward and swung his massive fists at the cultist's face.

Standing frozen, Ruby's eyes were wide with shock at the frightening speed the primarch had just shown in killing the cultist. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before, she knew the Lion was fast upon her first encounter with him the previous day, but brother gods, she didn't realize until now just how fast! Whoever this man was, he was clearly more than human as she now understood why Zabriel panicked when they met. The Lion was horrifying!

Regaining her composure Ruby grimaced as she noticed the blood on her face, using the sleeve of her shirt she wiped the remains of the heretic's head off. Turning to the Lion and Zabriel she saw their heads looking in the direction the cultist had originally come from. Hearing the sound of shouting and other noises approaching the Lion turned his head to Zabriel and Ruby.

"Guard my back," he told them. Raising their weapons, Ruby and Zabriel readied themselves for combat.

Spilling from the corridor a rabble of mutants charged the three without care for whatever they found, being greeted by a space marine, a primarch, and witch. Rushing them the mutants realized their mistake far too late as the three engaged the rabble and began turning the hallways of Redmoon Keep into a slurry of gore and slaughter.

Hesitant at first to fire into the horde, Ruby's feelings of remorse quickly evaporated as she looked into the maddened eyes of the cultists and realized they were too far gone in whatever insanity they had decided to give themselves over to. Firing Crescent Rose into the horde, Ruby watched with some horror as a line of mutant cultists were shredded in an instant before doing it again, and again. All while she did this her conscience cried out, screaming that she was breaking her oath as a huntsman. She became a huntsman to protect humanity from the Grimm. Not to slaughter her fellow men! But it was either them or her, and no matter how much she hated that fact that was the sad reality of the matter.

Having lost herself to her thoughts, Ruby turned her head to see what her two allies were up to, with her finding Zabriel defending the Lion's rear from any cultists that had avoided the primarch's attention. Speaking of the primarch, the transhuman was tearing a crimson path through the unlucky mutants. In the few seconds they had begun attacking the cultists had already begun retreating having realized too late that they were way over their head. The Lion however did not and would not allow this with Zabriel and Ruby sharing the same sentiment, with the Destroyer mopping up the few the Lion missed and the huntress focusing on any mutants in the back who attempted a retreat. The message was clear: their lives were forfeit now, they would either die by her or Zabriel's hands or to the primarch's it would be the last choice they would ever make in their miserable lives.

Finishing off the last of the cultist horde the Lion was coated in gore and viscera with him breathing hard.

"I see you have lost none of your deadliness, lord," Zabriel said, finishing off a cultist with his chainsword before powering down the motor.

"If only that were true," the Lion muttered.

"What do you mean? " Ruby asked, flabbergasted. "You just took an entire army's worth of those creeps down with your bare fists!"

"There is some.. malady at work here," he says to them. "I am slower than I should be. Curze would have flesh off my bones," he adds in a murmur barely audible to even Zabriel's superhuman hearing.

"Zabriel. Are my… other brothers also dead?" he asked the Destroyer.

"Even more uncertain than the fate of those who stood with your father," Zabriel replied, "the Imperium has largely forgotten them, but rumors persist. Some of the circle I have moved in were adamant that the traitor primarchs are still very real. Even if they are, the Imperium would pretend they were not."

Knowing they were referring to the Horus Heresy as it was called in the modern era, Zabriel had explained bits and pieces of the galactic civil war to her. Having not fought in the conflict itself due to him being stuck on Caliban much of his knowledge was based on rumors and hearsay he had learned in his exile from other Fallen he had met or from his own personal research in Imperial archives. Staring up at the Lion who had fought heavily in the war, Ruby stepped back slightly as she felt the Lion exude an aura of pure fury upon the mention of his traitorous brothers being alive.

"No," Zabriel decided to continue. "The greatest external threat to the Imperium is probably Abbadon."

The Lion turned his head to Zabriel. "Ezekyle Abbadon? First Captain of the Sons of Horus? He still lives?" Ruby tried to stifle a laugh causing the two demi-gods to turn their heads to her in puzzlement.

"Sorry, it's just that name, who names their kid 'Ezekyle' it sounds stupid!" she said with a small laugh trying to regain her composure.

"I do suppose Ezekyle is a weird name…" Zabriel said thinking on Ruby's comment. "I wonder what explanation a linguistic expert in Cthonic would say."

"That will be hard to do, Zabriel," the Lion replied.

"Why would that be my lord?"

"Cthonic is a dead language for a dead world. The planet is but a debris field now, we made sure of that by the end of the Heresy."

"Oh," Zabriel said, a bit shocked but not surprised, with the statement. The Destroyer had fought enough besides the Lion to know that the Lord of the First's wrath was something not to incur lest one wished for a shallow grave. Ruby on the other hand furrowed her brow at the casual mention by the primarch on how he destroyed an entire planet alongside its people and culture like it was nothing. Wishing to voice her disgust the silver eyed huntress held her tongue. She had no desire to suffer the rage of the primarch especially after witnessing what his wrath entailed with her shuddering as she looked at his blood coated gauntlets.

"Anyways…" Zabriel said, clearing his throat as he had enough emotional awareness to sense the tension that had spawned from the mention of Cthonia's destruction. "Even allowing for inaccuracies and propaganda, what I have heard suggests that he has gained power to rival that of any primarch," Zabriel said, returning the conversation to what they were discussing before Ruby's interruption. "He recently destroyed Cadia." This caused Zabriel to get a blank stare from both the Lion and Ruby before letting out a sigh. "A notable Imperial fortress world, near the Eye of Terror."

The Lion snorted. "Well, I will worry about my brother's wayward son should I cross paths with him. In the meantime, we have more immediate concerns. I doubt that those—" pointing to the dead cultists, "—were the only occupants of this place."

Pressing on further into the bastion the trio found its corridors littered with filth and its walls defiled by petty vandalism with much of its unreadable to Ruby due to her not understanding the Imperial script. Carrying on Zabriel and the Lion were hit by a wave of dizziness attempting to remove his helm the Destroyer stopped the primarch.

"Best not, lord. We do not know what may be in the air."

This caused Ruby to snap her head towards Zabriel with a fearful look.

"Now you tell me!" slightly panicking at the old space marine's words covering her nose with her hood believing something foul was in the air.

"Wait, you do not hear the humming?" he asked.

"What humming?" she replied, confused about what he was talking about. Zabriel and the Lion looked at the huntress then at each other before deciding to discuss the matter later.

"It is of no importance," the Lion assured her, "if you can't hear anything then you should be safe," he said before they continued walking.

"I am getting strong power readings from up ahead," Zabriel said, "if scent and sound cannot reliably lead us to our enemies, energy may serve. We can at least damage whatever our enemies are powering, which may draw them out."

Reaching an engraved blast door down the hallway the Lion stared at a decoration of a robed figure with wings and a sword in his hands.

"Sanguinius," he murmured. Looking at the decoration Ruby found it was defiled with skulls, large skulls, space marine skulls with four sigils carved into the metal, each symbol hurting Ruby's eye's slightly as she looked at them.

"Stay behind me until we know what we are dealing with," the Lion told them, before Zabriel reached out and activated the door's release.

Moving with a stressed scream the door slowly opened as they were greeted by a poorly lit space that had a sickly yellow-green glow to it before a rough voice spoke out.

"he comes, the Flawed Knight. Did I not tell you?"

"You were expecting me?" the Lion demanded of the voice as he strode into the chamber. "Show yourself."

"What master do you serve?" the voice asked him. Walking up to the ruins of bastion's Strategium the Lion was greeted by seven space marines. Five seemed somewhat normal to the primarch besides the odd horn or disproportionate limb however the other two were different, one was in robes with a barbed sword the other bulky even for an astartes before the Lion noticed the animal cloak he wore that made him bigger than he actually was. Upon their ramshackled armor was a repeated pattern of golden eyes.

"I serve myself," he declared to the heretic astartes. "Whose do you call master?"

"His mind is like a blade," one of the marines said in a low voice causing the Lion's lips to curl at the attempt to scry his mind.

"Stay out of my head, witch," he snarled.

"Stop where you are," the one in the cloak said. The Lion ignored him.

"I said—"

The time for talk was over for the Lion, pouncing at the traitors the room erupted in violence. Taking out two of the marines in his first blow the Lion picked up one of his victims and threw him at the sorcerer. Feeling a bolt-shell ricochet off his armor the Lion dived back to see if he could goad two of the heretics into shooting each other. Sadly they were not as incompetent as he hoped, jerking their boltguns away from each other in time.

Running to the aid of the Lion, Zabriel and Ruby charged the traitors with the Destroyer firing his pistols while the huntress zipped across the room with her petal burst. Transmuting into her normal form the huntress slashed her scythe at one of the astartes but found her blade merely scratch his armor. Turning to face her the twisted space marine let out a laugh before raising his bolter. Dodging his shot with her semblance Ruby zipped behind cover. Glancing at the transhuman, the huntress noticed his joint armor was not as armored as the rest of his war-plate. Charging once more at the space marine with her semblance, Ruby reformed herself using the kinetic energy from her momentum to cut the marine's right arm off at the joint causing the hulking giant to drop his bolter. Gushing out with blood before clotting quickly the astartes looked down at his missing limb.

"I'll gut you for that you little witch shit!" he growled from the vox-grille of his helmet before pulling out a knife from his belt and charging at her with berserk rage. Using petal burst once more the heretic's attacks merely hit the air as she dodged his knife, transmuting a few feet away, far enough to get off a shot from Crescent Rose Ruby fired at the marine's chest. Expecting the shot to merely ping off his armor the huntress was surprised to find her dust round penetrate the marine's warplate. In saying that it appeared to do little in stopping the enraged astartes.

"What the hell does it take to bring you guys down!" she complained aloud dodging another swipe from the marine's knife. Before attempting the same maneuver, firing off two more shots with the same effect before a realization came to her causing her to smack her head at her stupidity. If I can punch through his armor with my bullets why am I wasting my time on his chest! Focusing her aim at the astartes head Ruby pulled her trigger and watched as her round went flying into the marine's head. Penetrating the astarte's helmet the bullet pulverized transhuman's brain causing the marine to collapse down dead as the hole in his helmet began leaking brain matter and blood before clotting.

"Enough!" their leader thundered, turning her head she found him charging the Lion, that was a mistake. With inhuman speed faster than even a space marine Ruby watched as the Lion broke the heretic astartes hammer in two. The primarch then grabbed the astartes manhandling the transhuman into the air before slamming his back on his knee as he broke the heretic's spine dropping his broken body to the ground. Before he could finish him off Ruby and the Lion heard screaming, turning their heads the pair found Zabriel being overwhelmed by the sorcerer.

Turning his head towards Ruby the Lion stared at her through the red lenses of his helmet, nodding her head in acknowledgement the huntress aimed down the sights of Crescent Rose towards the sorcerer but found her shot blocked by the marine's power pack. Deciding to pull the trigger as she heard Zabriel's screams grow louder. The sorcerer staggered for a moment as the bullet hit his powerpack. His concentration broken, the spell holding the Destroyer sputtered out freeing Zabriel. Quickly recovering from the attack Zabriel grabbed his chainsword and swung it at the marine's neck joint cleaving his head off.

Before the Dark Angel could thank Ruby the Destroyer's body tensed as the air started shimmering and the air began to smell of ozone. Teleporting into the Strategium two hulking marines appeared. Their bodies were swollen things covered in guns with their armor having fused to their flesh long ago with only their heads seemingly having not changed. It would've caused the gun obsessed huntress to drool at how much wanton destruction the two marines displayed if it weren't for the fact the two mutated astartes had come here to kill them.

Deciding to focus on the primarch first one of the hulking astartes launched a rocket at the Lion square in the chest knocking him across the room causing him to fly into a wall and then another as his bulk smashed through whatever material the bastion was made of. Lumbering off to fight the Lord of the First, Ruby and Zabriel attempted to assist the primarch but were stopped by the remaining traitors. Taking overwatch for Zabriel as he fired his bolt-pistols into the enemy, the huntress was able to down another of the astartes and wound another in the ensuing fight that the Destroyer finished off. Her body drenched in sweat as she breathed heavily the Destroyer walked up to her. Raising her hand to fist bump Zabriel the space marine looked at her with a puzzled look before realizing what she meant with her gesture, his ceramite gauntlet returning her fist pump Ruby smiled.

"Fine work huntress," he said, looking at the two dead Astartes she had brought down. Before she could say anything the two turned their heads as they heard the heavy thump of ceramite. Raising their weapons to two prayed that the Lion was successful in killing the two abominations. Ready for whatever fight lay ahead of them the two breathed a sigh of relief as the Lion stepped out to greet them causing the pair to relax their weapons. The Lion's armor was scratched and dented in some parts however what caught Ruby's attention most was the blade he now carried in his hand.

"Nice sword," Ruby said as he greeted them. The Lion grunted in agreement. "What were those things?" She then asked.

"They are dead now," the Lion answered, "and that is all that matters." Walking over to the marine whose back was broken by the Lion earlier, the three stared down at the paralyzed traitor with Zabriel aiming his bolt pistols at his head.

"Wait!" The Lion instructed glaring down at the marine. "Your sorcerer is dead. What must I do to rid myself of this malady that impedes me?" he demanded.

"Impedes you?" the fur-coated traitor hissed, his breathing staccato gasps that Ruby eventually realized were laughs. "You slaughtered my best and broke my back as though I were a child. What manner of being are you, that you consider yourself impeded when you can still do such things?"

Removing his helmet the Lion revealed his face to the dying creature in front of them.

"I am Lion El'Jonson, primarch of the Dark Angels and son of the Emperor," he stated to the heretic. Ruby watched the traitor's eyes go wide at the declaration before his disbelief turned into a wide grin revealing a maw of pointed teeth.

"There is no malady at work here, my lord," he mocked. "You simply got old."

The Lion stared at the heretic for a long moment before Zabriel broke the silence with a single shot from his bolt pistol.

"For ten thousand years you look good for your age at least," Ruby awkwardly said, trying to break the tension in the room. Only getting a grunt from the primarch before he sulked away from them. Looking at Zabriel the Destroyer gave her a shrug before walking to join the Lord of the First.

Following a network of pipes in the fortress the three came upon another chamber opening the door they were greeted by the howls and snarls of what sounded like rabid beasts. Advancing with caution the trio came upon nine figures bound to the chamber's walls in chains. Thrashing uselessly to attack them, Ruby gasped, having realized what the things chained up were. They were space marines, their eyes black and skin a bloody red with extended canines beyond what should've been possible for even for the gene-enhanced astartes.

"Are these the Ruby Crescents?" she asked in a low voice, filled with horror and disbelief. Seeing the Lion raise his sword towards the chained astartes the huntress quickly put a hand to the Lion's gauntlet.

"There must be some way to save them!" she pleaded.

"Look at them, there is nothing to save," Zabriel somberly said. Looking again at the Ruby Crescents the huntress found the Destroyer was right, whoever these astartes used to be was gone. The Ten Thousand Eyes had broken them, all that was left was mindless savagery. The realization caused a tear to come down her eye before turning her head away from the creatures. Releasing her hand from the Lion's grip, Ruby turned and left the room as she heard the thud of heads drop to the floor as one by one the screams of the chained Ruby Crescents went silent as the primarch gave them their mercy. Walking out of the room with his work now done the Lion saw the anger in Ruby's eyes.

"Why is the only way to solve our problems is to do it through more death?" she asked bitterly in a low voice. The Lion looked at her with an annoyed look.

"You chide me on the mercy I gave to those… things?" the Lion said. "What of the scores of cultists you butchered in the halls earlier? Do you feel remorse for their passing?"

"That's the problem. I should've felt remorse! I should've stopped you and Zabriel from killing them but…but I didn't. I knew deep down that what we did was necessary!" she cried tears now falling down her face. "Zabriel told me what you did during the Crusade, of the worlds you burned in the name of your father's empire and it repulsed me. But how can I call you two monsters when I've done the same! Even before I came to Camarth I let a nation die on Remnant all for the sake of the 'greater good', the same excuse that you and Zabriel use," she paused her voice trembling.

"How can I claim to be a protector of the innocent when I have so much blood on my hands?" she whispered, her hands shaking as she looked down at them with the memories of all her regrets passing by in flashes. The Lion frowned as he felt an odd kindredness in that moment with the little witch girl.

"I have thought the same upon awakening," the Lion said, "of the needless deaths I was responsible for due to my reckless behavior for my need to show my superiority over my siblings to my father. To prove… to prove that I was loyal. Now when I reminisce on my glories, many of them I see as folly, the Crusade made me lose sight of who I was. As I told you and Zabriel the day before I am a protector at heart, a protector of the innocent. I am sad to say it took the destruction of my home and ten thousand years of slumber to make me remember that," he finished with a grim smile before offering a hand to the silver eyed huntress."

"Your compassion is needed in these dark times we live in Ruby Rose. Too long has the cruel ruled our species, people like you must replace me and Zabriel when our duty is done for when humanity can finally live in peace it will need kindness to find purpose once more. However you must not let that compassion cloud your judgment when you are forced to make a hard decision. If you do it will be turned into insecurity and self-hatred. I see it in you now. You let your mistakes haunt you, know this, all you do through your wallowing is invite Chaos to your soul, it will consume and twist you, until all that makes you, you is dead and replaced with a warped reflection of who you were."

Ruby looked into the Lion's eyes, he was right, she was letting the past control her. She needed to stop wallowing in her mistakes and instead learn from them so as to not repeat them in the future. She was a protector of the innocent, a huntsman, a defender of the people and she would continue in her duty even if this galaxy of eternal war muddied the lines between good and evil. With some hesitation at first Ruby took the Lion's hand, feeling reinvigorated by his words she noticed the shaking in her hands come to a stop.

Scavenging what they could in terms of supply Ruby with the assistance of Zabriel, rigged Redmoon Keep to explode via remote detonations. Giddy with excitement the little huntress pressed the detonator watching smoke rise in the alien sky of Camarth as Redmoon keep was reduced to rubble. The war for Camarth had begun and with a bang no less.

Walking through the forests back to the camp, the Lion turned to Zabriel.

"The witch girl, this Ruby Rose is a strange one," he said to Zabriel via the voxmitter of his helmet, turning his head towards her. Zabriel merely shrugged in response.

"She is a naive youth my lord, what is strange about that?" he replied.

"I would say innocent would be a more apt word," the Lion said, "nevertheless that's not what I was referring to."

"That stronghold stank of the warp at its most corrupt yet it did not affect her in the slightest," he elaborated.

Zabriel grunted in agreement.

"She told me something on the first day we met, my lord, relating to a special power her family has," Zabriel said.

"Elaborate."

"She explained that those born with silver eyes on Remnant are destined to be great warriors with them having the ability to annihilate the Grimm, the beasts that infested her world just by looking at them," Zabriel explained.

"You mean the daemons?" the Lion corrected.

"Yes, the daemons that dwell on her world."

"Do you believe this ability is partially responsible for her resistance to the warp?" the Lion asked.

"It is just a theory for now," Zabriel replied, "but yes for now I believe it is so." Satisfied with his son's explanation, silence returned to the pair as the Lion mulled over Zabriel's words. These silver eyes and their powers piqued his interest, eyes that could burn the Neverborn, it almost reminded him of the power his father had. He would have to question Ruby on this apparent power of hers but now was not the time. The time for questions would come later when Camarth had been purged. Only then would he ask and get the answers which he seeked from the girl.

Arriving at the camp with the supplies they gathered the three would find themselves greeted as heroes by the refugees even Ruby the little witch girl they had been weary of since arriving in their camp was showered with praise by the people of Camarth.

"I imagine that was not the only traitor stronghold on Camarth," the Lion said in a low voice to Zabriel as the camp celebrated their victory.

"I greatly doubt it," he replied. "The planet had other defenses besides the bastion, and they would have to be subdued as well. I do not know what contact there may have been between them, or how soon other heretics might learn of what has occurred here," he explained, causing the Lion's nostrils to flare.

"I do not intend to let them find out in their own time. I was styled as Lord Protector once. The context was misguided, but the sentiment was sound. So long as any part of humanity is threatened, my duty is not done."

"Sounds like the oath all huntsmen's swear," Ruby decided to interject pointing out another of the similarities between her world and long dead Caliban getting a rare smile from the primarch.

Zabriel however frowned at the Lion. "Any part of humanity?"

"Indeed," the Lion said, now looking at Zabriel. "So we had best get started."

Chapter Text

Two months had passed since Ruby had arrived on Camarth and in those two months the Lion had liberated most of the planet from the Ten Thousand Eyes. What should've taken years was archived in the span of weeks by a single man. While the Lion was preoccupied with getting the planet's space port back up and running and Zabriel off searching for the remaining Astropaths on Camarth, Ruby had been given the task of clean up duty of the planet's capital of Kallia City.

Since their war had begun Ruby had been forced to replace her old clothes from Remnant with her replacing her old outfit for flak armor that she wore a trench coat over. Painting the armor red and black to match her old colors Zabriel had pointed out to the huntress on how it reminded him of the old color scheme the Dark Angels used during his time. With dust not existent on Camarth nor anywhere else in the Imperium as far she was aware of Ruby had decided to conserve her remaining dust rounds for when they came across more astartes of the Ten Thousand Eyes deciding to use a long-las in its place with her only using Crescent Rose when in close-quarters combat.

Overseeing as the last of the Ten Thousand Eye forces were exterminated from the city's industrial district by Camarthan armor units or at least what best fit the definition of an armor unit from what they were able to scavenge. Turning her head to Halin, a refugee from Zabriel's original group, the former member of the planet's militia had been of great assistance to the three in their war against the Ten Thousand Eyes.

"Vox the Lion and tell him the city is in our control," she told him, the Camarthan man nodded as he got into contact with the primarch and informed him of their victory. Watching as the people of Camarth celebrate the liberation of their world, the silver eyed huntress couldn't help but join them. At long last they had won!

Three days after the liberation of Kallia City Ruby alongside the Lion with his new sword, Fealty, Zabriel, Jovan, another refugee from Zabriel's group, and the Mechanicus tech priest Valdax stood at a landing pad. Alongside them were the nine members of the newly christened 'Lion Guard' the primarch's very own personal honor guard which Ruby found herself the reluctant leader of. Finding the idea of an honor guard for the primarch ridiculous she had at first politely turned down the offer to lead the group but after a bit of persuasion by Zabriel she had changed her mind. With him telling the silver eyed huntress that she did the Camarthans a great dishonor by refusing their offer. There was then the challenge of convincing the Lion himself to accept their protection. Like Ruby, the Lion saw the existence of an honor guard for himself useless; however like her he eventually gave in and accepted their protection wishing to not displease the Camarthans.

"You have run all the necessary checks?" the Lion asked the tech priest as they looked at a parked landing craft that was blocky and crude compared to the bullheads back in Remnant.

"Necessary is difficult to qualify under these circumstances," Valdax replied vaguely. "Given the nature of the foes we have been facing. However, I can detect no scrap code or infection of the machine-spirit, and the physical structure appears to lack any issues which would impact upon its safety or operation. If there are hidden traps or sabotage, it is beyond my ability to detect them."

While vaguely aware of the Cult Mechanicum or Adeptus Mechanicus as it was now known due to Zabriel's brief rundown of Great Crusade era Imperial politics to her when they had first met, Ruby found the Martian priesthood weird to put it lightly with her opinion changing to slight horror upon meeting Valdax. The tech-priest appeared to have had much of his flesh stripped away and replaced with augmentics that had him appear more metal than man at least from what she was able to gleam from the little of his body visible beneath his red robes. Speaking in a logical manner as if he were a computer Ruby found conversations with the tech-priest to put it lightly as awkward.

One would think such an individual would be straight to the point but with the Mechanicus that seemed to be the opposite with her finding the tech-priest to be a pain when asked any questions relating to technology, especially of the most trivial kind. With Ruby internally groaning at a memory of having asked Valdax on how to turn on the light of a room in which of instead pointing to where the light switch was like a normal person would've the tech-priest had instead spent three hours explaining to her the specific rites that she apparently needed to do in order to please the "machine spirit" that lived in the light switch (whatever the hell that meant) which included praying, incense oil, and other useless things for such a simple task. When she told the Lion about the situation a few days later he told her about how Valdax was probably one of the least superstitious of his kind and how the Mechanicus even during his time was a pain to deal with. Despite her misgivings towards Valdax she alongside Zabriel and the Lion had found the tech-priest expertise vital since retaking the space-port.

"You have not steered us wrong thus," the Lion said as Ruby refocused on the conversation. "If you consider it suitable, I can ask for no more." The Lion then turned to Jovan. "Do you have a team?"

"People with knowledge of void ships are in short supply," Jovan replied with some sadness. "The Bastards killed those in orbit, and those were few enough on the ground to begin with, let alone that have survived since the invasion. I've put word out and rounded up those I can but their knowledge skews between very basic and very specialist, without much in between," he explained to them.

"It was not so long ago that the thought of getting anyone into orbit to assess salvage potential seemed so far out of reach that we were not even considering it," the Lion reminded the Camarthan man. "Let us not sour the taste of this opportunity by regretting what we do not have. Magos," turning to the tech-priest. "What is the status of the planetary defenses, in case our team needs covering fire?"

"We have chased the last few glitches from the system," Valdax replied with satisfaction. "The traitors kept most of the weapons batteries operational, presumably in case they needed them. If anything hostile enters orbit, they will not find Camarth defenseless."

"A bit over confident is what they are," Ruby whispered to Zabriel with the Destroyer nodding his head in agreement. Opening his mouth to ask further about Camarth's current defenses the Lion turned his head towards the north west of the landing pad as something caught his attention.

"Lord?" Zabriel asked. "Is something amiss?" The Lion did not answer.

"Are you ok Lion, sir?" Ruby attempted, still unsure how to address the primarch finding "lord" to be pretentious and "The Lion" a bit silly, even if that's what he preferred.

"I am… not sure," the Lion admitted to them.

"Should we send a scout team?" Jovan offered. The Lion shook his head.

"No. I do not even know if this is a threat. I will go myself."

"We will come with you then," Ruby said. The Lion snorted in amusement, a rare thing for the primarch.

"Was that an offer," he asks her, "or a statement?"

The silver eyed huntress bit her lip as she stood her ground to the Lord of the First. "What's the point in having a honor guard if you leave us to walk in the forest alone."

The Lion glanced at Zabriel but found the Destroyer avoiding his stare as he checked the magazines of his now restocked bolt-pistols.

The Lion sighed. "Very well, Zabriel, with us. Jovan, magos, please continue as planned."

Moving near the north-western edge of Kallia City via Goliath, the party dismounted from the vehicle as the Lion stared into the forest.

"Do you see something?" Ruby asked, diving down from the truck with her petal burst.

"I do not know," he replied quietly. "I cannot say that I sense anything, as such, but it is as though I am called."

"Well that's not creepy at all," she said.

"A device of the enemy?" Zabriel said warily.

The Lion shook his head. "Stay alert," he commanded them. "I do not believe we are approaching an enemy, but it cannot hurt to be careful. And I have been wrong before," he adds softly with Ruby and Zabriel barely hearing his words. Following the primarch into the forest Ruby alongside the rest of the party traveled into the forests that covered Camarth, while not as dangerous as the jungles in Camarth's northern hemisphere Ruby had heard enough folk tales from the locals to know the dangers that lay in the forests for those not careful. She had no desire to stay here long.

"Lord?" Zabriel says.

"A little farther," he replied as they entered a thick mist. Reaching an incline, Zabriel and the Lion climbed it without effort while Ruby and the Lion Guard struggled up. Even with her aura giving her increased stamina Ruby by the end was panting as were the Lion Guard. Moving deeper into the forest Ruby couldn't help but feel as if reality were shifting and twisting around them. Turning her head to the others she found she was not alone in this thought with her compatriots sharing the same look she had with even Zabriel looked uneasy.

"Lord?" Zabriel said.

"Yes, Zabriel?"

The Dark Angel tapped the side of his helmet. "My readouts are malfunctioning, and what they are telling me is making no sense. Where are we?" The Lion frowns before taking off his helmet and sniffing the air before placing his helmet back on. He removes his helmet again and breathes the air of the forest once more.

"Something wrong?" Ruby asked him.

"Zabriel, look around you," he said to the Destroyer, ignoring Ruby's question. "Without your helmet on. Tell me what you see."

"The forest, lord," he said, his helmet now off.

The Lion steps closer to Zabriel. "Which forest?"

Zabriel's eyes narrow realizing what the Lion meant.

"If I did not know better," Zabriel said slowly, "I would have said this reminded me of the forests of Caliban, as it was long ago."

"Not just me, then," the Lion says.

"Caliban?" Ruby said with puzzlement, "I thought you and Zabriel said Caliban was destroyed?"

"Lord Lion, what are you talking about?" one of the Lion Guard asked.

"The galaxy is a mysterious place, and not one that I can fully explain," he told the man. "I have not spoken openly of how I came to Camarth, because I did not fully understand it myself. I walked with no memory of myself through a landscape much like this one, until it turned into the jungles where I met Zabriel. Now it seems I am back in the forest, and this time you have come with me. I do not, in truth, know where we are. Nor do I know how to get back to where we were."

"Why not retrace our steps?" a member of the Lion Guard suggested getting a few icy glares from his comrades all except for Ruby. She waved their disapproval away.

"He makes a good point. Let's try that."

The Lion nodded.

Turning back from the way they came they walked fifty yards before Ruby came to a confused halt.

"Shouldn't we be going downhill? It was a bastard climb coming up, I know that much," one of their number said.

Surveying the landscape around them Ruby found that he was right, the ground was flat causing a feeling of worry to come over her and the rest of the Lion Guard.

"My lord?" Another of the Lion Guard says, his voice quivering slightly. "What should we do?"

The Lion stood in silence contemplating before being interrupted by a howl in the distance. Snapping their weapons up in response, Ruby and the Lion Guard scanned the forest but found the mist too thick to find the origin of the sound.

"Follow me," the Lion told them, turning. Moving quickly through the forest but slow enough for Ruby and the Lion Guard to keep up with the Lion led the way with Fealty unsheathed and Zabriel defending their rear.

"We are being hunted," Zabriel whispered so only she and the Lion could hear him.

"Reminds me of the Grimm," Ruby added. "Whatever ever is hunting us, it's also toying with us."

"Great Beasts," the Lion replied in a low voice.

"I thought you killed them all?" Zabriel asked, confused by the statement.

"I did. But as I understand it, most of Caliban does not exist now either, yet here we are."

"Could it be the warp?" Ruby suggested spitballing explanations on wherever the hell they were.

"If they are Great Beasts, that is something I have the weapons to fight," he tells them. "But I walked out of this place once before, and we may yet—"

He came to a halt, as they came across a dome of pale stone.

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked, a bit nervous.

"I do not recall ever seeing anything like that on Caliban," Zabriel says, causing confusion amongst Ruby and the Lion Guard, the Lion ignores all of them for a moment.

"Ignore it," he finally says. "It is of no use to us." They begin through the dark mirror of Caliban once more.

"We need a defensive position," Ruby told them, "if these beasts are the real deal we need somewhere to defend my men."

"We are nearly there," The Lion replied, ignoring her words.

Ruby's face scowled. "What in the brother gods are you talking about?" she said, having had enough of the Lion's vague answers.

"I know this forest," he tells her, "I knew it in my youth, and I know it now. It may be changed, but it cannot keep its secrets from." He pauses for a moment before cutting through a stream bed. "Everyone keep up!"

Rolling her eyes Ruby and the rest of the party followed the primarch's lead. Following the stream downhill Ruby noticed the mist start to dissipate as well as the forest around them with the ground under her boots begin to turn soft like sand and the damp air turn dry. Something told her they were no longer on Camarth.

"Hoi! Who're you?" someone yelled in a dialect of Low Gothic different from the Dark Angels and Camarthans with her. Looking around Ruby spotted a four-wheeled buggy rush towards them through the forest. Driven by a man with dark skin from a life in the sun.

"What…? Where…?" the man sputters confused at their sight.

"What planet is this?" the Lion asks the man.

"Planet? A-Avalus, lord," he stammers. "Please, wh-who are you?" The Lion stares at the man for a second before replying.

"I am Lion El'Jonson, primarch of the Dark Angels, and a son of the Emperor," he tells him sheathing Fealty. "I must speak with whoever is in authority."

Chapter Text

A few months had passed for Weiss (or at least what felt like a few months, the passage of time on a star ship was a fickle thing to keep track of) since she was made a Blood Thrall and personal equerry of the self-proclaimed Lord of Death. While the Chief Librarian still creeped the hell out of her, Weiss had somewhat gotten used to the presence of the ghoulish Chief Librarian. Assigned her own living quarters aboard the Absolution's Ire she was given a pair of blue robes by Epistolary Rhacelus, Mephiston's second in the Librarius. Protesting at first the change in outfit to the librarian, her complaints were quickly shot down when the astartes threatened to remove her tongue like the other Scholiasts in the Librarius if she continued her complaints. Since then, she had grown fond of her new clothing.

Besides providing her somewhere to live, the Lord of Death had also helped Weiss in building the proper defenses to shield her mind from prying eyes. In saying that she would be lying to say it had not been difficult to learn. Being one of the many discoveries the she and the Chief Librarian had made, the process of unlocking one's aura while honing an individual's psychic discipline had the drawback of neutering their potential to learn any further abilities. Despite this, after many days of mediation and focus, and a few outbursts of frustration from Rhacelus the huntress had been able to shield her mind. While her thoughts were still easy to read to the librarians, they now had to focus on her if they wished to look through her mind, which relieved the Atlesian having found it quite annoying the first few weeks when a librarian would randomly reply to a thought she'd have.

With a particular incident involving the Episoltary occurring a few weeks back when she began cursing out the librarian in her mind with various expletives before remembering he could hear her thoughts. In punishment for her disrespect the Blood Angel had made Weiss meditate for three days straight without sleep using the excuse that it would give discipline to her powers and also "hopefully some throne damned respect!" Man is he an ass. She thought before instinctively checking her back to see if there were any librarians present in the room, as unlikely as that may have been.

"Something wrong?" a male voice asked.

"No, just a habit Perry." Turning her head back to her opponent Weiss moved her regicide piece on the board before finishing her move. Perry or Peregrine as he went by from the other Blood Thralls was Weiss' personal High Gothic teacher having been assigned to her when Rhacelus had discovered she was not only illiterate in Imperial script but did not speak a lick of High Gothic to boot after he attempted to have her work in the Librarius' archives. Sequestering a Blood Thrall knowledgeable in the language Peregrine was given the task by the Episoltary to teach her High Gothic. Spending most of her time around Rhacelus, Mephiston or one of the tongueless scholiasts in the Libarius since her arrival on the Ire the Ice Queen had found it a breath of fresh air to talk to somebody "normal".

Using her time outside of the Librarius to learn the language the two had their lessons in one of the gardens that the Ire had onboard with the pair finding the serenity it provided nice compared to the cramped confines of the rest of the massive vessel. She and Peregrine got along quite well, thanks to being roughly the same age, and their shared interests, regicide being one of them (apparently she was very good at it). With the winner of each game answering a personal question about themselves.

Asking him in her first victory how he ended up in service to The Blood he explained that like many of the younger thralls in service to the chapter he was a survivor of the Devastation of Baal. A massive alien invasion that saw the Blood Angels' fortress monastery of the Arx Angelicum nearly destroyed and Baal's second moon, Baal Primus "stripped of life". When Weiss heard this story for the first time, she asked the thrall what he meant by that - did he mean that all the "inhabitants" died? Because he couldn't possibly mean every human, plant, animal...

'Everything, from the tiniest flea to the largest beast was eaten by the xenos, and the moon is now a barren rock orbiting around the planet,' he bluntly replied, noticing he wasn't comfortable with the topic Weiss didn't push further with the question. However, the idea that there was something capable of stripping whole planets of life horrified her.

"Sanguinius on a cross, that's the third time you've beaten me," Peregrine said as he lost another game of regicide. "I thought you didn't know what regicide was before today?"

"It's just chess Perry, the only difference are the pieces," she said, handing him back one of the pieces as they reset the board for another game.

"Oh yes you mentioned Remnant had a game similar to regicide." Remembering a conversation the two had before playing. "Say who showed you how to play?" he asked. "You'd yourself would give one of the angels a run for their crowns with your skills."

"Stop with your flattery Perry I have enough with it from those dolt thralls," she groaned as she remembered the incident. Waking up for her duties that day Weiss had found at least a dozen or so papers written in High Gothic on her door. Bringing a few to her lesson that afternoon she showed them to Peregrine to see what they said, when the Blood Thrall read their contents he immediately began rolling on the grass with laughter. They were apparently love poems. With a devious grin the Blood Thrall had explained to her that these poems adoring her beauty were a Baalite custom, in which young men tried to woo a young woman in hopes of getting their "hand".

'Don't tell me…' Weiss muttered and Peregrine laughed.

'They are exactly what you are thinking, these are marriage proposals!' Perry patted her back as she stared blankly at poems she brought. 'You seem to have gathered a lot of attention…'

'Stop it…' she muttered, while a shiver went down her spine as she remembered the weird glares she was given by the other thralls over the previous days.

"Can't blame those rad-waste vermin bastards if you're one of the few women aboard this ship," he shrugged.

"Aren't you also a rad-waste vermin Perry?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Peregrine snorted. "I grew up in the Angel's Fall, not some hick tribe out in the Great Salt Wastes."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Right, as if growing up in Angel's Fall changes anything," she muttered with a sigh, with Peregrine faking an offense.

"Unlike them, I wash my arse!" he said with a hint of pride, much to Weiss's disappointment.

From what she was told by the thrall of Angel's Fall, while certainly better than living in an irradiated wasteland it was not what she would consider an "ideal" place to live with the city having to deal with rad-storms and the local fauna that sometimes breached its walls.

"To go back to your original question…" Wanting to move away from the subject of the various suitors she apparently had aboard the strike-cruiser. "It was my older sister Winter who showed me how to play," she said, before frowning as she wondered if her family was doing fine back on Remnant. Wondering if Salem had won and had all the artifacts.

"Weiss if I may ask," he said, changing the subject seeing he had opened a sore subject to the Atlesian, "how's your training going with the Chief Librarian? You must have something interesting to tell,"

Weiss sighed. "How many times must I tell you I'm not allowed to speak what goes in the chambers of the Librarius," she said tiringly.

"Come now, it won't hurt to share just one thing that goes on behind those walls," Peregrine replied.

"You do realize they can read minds?" she replied deadpanned, taking a sip from her cup of recaf as the two began another game of regicide.

Peregrine eyes widened. "Oh, I forgot about that," he said with slight embarrassment causing Weiss to roll her eyes.

Feeling the ship shudder for a brief moment Weiss and Peregrine breathed a sigh of relief as they felt an uncomfortable weight lift from their shoulders as the Ire exited the warp. They had reached their destination at last.

"Do you ever get used to it?" she asked Peregrine.

There were many things about the galaxy Weiss disliked; warp travel was one such thing, in fact she dreaded it. While she understood that it was necessary due to it being the only means of conducting interstellar travel across the galaxy and all she really, really wished it wasn't. And she wasn't alone.

"No," Peregrine replied, making the sign of the aquila over his chest, "you never do."

"Why couldn't it have been the Ever After," she lamented out loud.

"Ever After?"

"It's a fairytale from Remnant," she explained.

Peregrine eyes perked. "Do tell."

"It's more or less about a girl who falls down a hole in a tree into a world known as the Ever After where she goes through a journey to return home with the help of a Curious Cat and Rusted Knight," she told him.

"Interesting," Peregrine said, "reminds me of a children's book that we keep in the archives."

Weiss looked at Peregrine. "You're joking right?" she asked, "Why do the Blood Angels have a children's book in the chapter archives."

Peregrine shrugged his shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Weiss chuckled as she moved her piece on the regicide board.

"I see Equerry Schnee's High Gothic lessons are going well, thrall Peregrine," a new voice boomed in the garden.

Turning their heads they were greeted by the hulking armored body of a Blood Angel, his helmet off revealing a face that mirrored the angelic features of his gene-father with blonde hair and the patrician facial features to match.

"Ezio," Peregrine replied with a warm smile as he got up from his chair to greet the space marine. "What brings you here brother?"

Ezio was Peregrine's younger brother, unlike him Ezio had been deemed worthy to join The Blood being transformed from a cancer ridden boy to transhuman. Losing contact for a few years after his ascension the two brothers would meet again on their assignment aboard the Ire with them rekindling their relationship. Sometimes accompanying the two during their lessons when not on duty the astartes would listen in on their conversations with Ezio occasionally asking them benign questions that reminded Weiss of a curious child, if said child were eight feet tall in height.

When she had won her second game of regicide she had asked Peregrine what Ezio was like before his transformation.

The thrall had smiled with nostalgia.

'He was a hard headed boy who's stubbornness was only matched by his bravery,' he told her. 'I can't begin to list the amount of times I had to jump in to save his arse from trouble in Angel's Fall.'

The Blood Thrall's eyes watered with tears. 'I'm so proud of him.'

"I thought Captain Antargo had you on patrol duty during this time?" she asked the astartes, confused at his presence.

"I am," he said, "my 'stroll' here is to deliver a message for the Lord of Death's equerry."

Weiss raised an eyebrow, so soon? "What does Lord Mephiston want?"

Ezio shrugged. "Blood knows what that revenant wants. I am merely a messenger."

Getting up from her chair she said her farewells to the two before leaving for the Librarius. Walking through the halls of the Absolution's Ire to her master's chambers, Weiss reflected on just how much her life had changed in just a few months with herself amazed by how comfortable she had grown with her current circumstance. In saying that she still wondered some days what became of her teammates and if they had been scattered across the galaxy like her or if she was all alone. She did not like to dwell long on that scenario and hoped with all her heart that her friends were safe just like her.

Striding through the large halls of the Ire the Atlesain felt herself wandering through an art museum. As one of the core tenets taught to them by their long dead gene-father, the Blood Angels practiced a philosophy known as the "Five Graces" with it promoting members of the chapter to engage in artistry in all its forms. Passing by various portraits and statues Weiss noticed that a new painting had been erected on the walls, it was of a marine in all gold who wore a face mask in likeness to Sanguinius with white wings standing victorious over a battle, pausing for a moment as she tried to place a face to the mysterious golden astartes she found herself drawing blanks. Shrugging her shoulders she continued on her path to the Librarius, her wonder would end when she passed by a pair of servitors. Her face cringing in disgust as she strode past the half machine, half human things. She found servitors repulsive if not downright disturbing even if most of them were vat-grown as Peregrine had explained to her previously. Man, why does everything in the Imperium have to be so disgusting? Half-man cyborgs, flying skulls, some twisted cherubs - all of it nearly made her puke, with the former heiress wondering just who's twisted idea it was for their creation.

Finally reaching the door of the Librarius she was greeted by its two guards.

"I Blood Thrall, Weiss Schnee, equerry of the Lord of Death request entry to the Librarius," she recited.

"Do you approach free of doubt and mental weakness?" one asked.

"I do," she replied.

"Then we bid you enter."

Performing a ritual the doors to the Librarius opened allowing for her to step into its otherwise forbidden chambers. Spending most of her time in the Librarius in Mephiston's chambers, the Lord of Death had taught her much in his tutelage. Refining her glyphs Weiss had reached a new mastery that she didn't know was possible with her semblance with her no longer needing Myrtenaster to make full use of her powers. When she wasn't training with the Chief Librarian she was being his guinea pig for whatever theory he had at the time when it came to aura and semblance. Using the scholiasts that dwelled in the Librarius as test subjects they had found out a few things that intrigued Weiss. One being that aura was what the Imperials called a "force shield" with the enhanced reflexes granted being a form of advanced biomancy. Mephiston had also learned from his experiments that unlocking one's aura seemed to only work on those who carried the psyker gene with only zeta-epsilon grade psykers and above being able make use of a semblance.

Another area Mephiston had taken an interest in when it came to Remnant was dust, with him finding the dust crystals she had on her quite peculiar. Studying her remaining dust rounds in order to see how they worked, the Chief Librarian had come to the conclusion that dust was a "psycho-reactive material formed from the psychic echoes of the dead." Thinking back to what Jinn had shown them back in Anima it made a lot of sense with her shuddering to think that Remnant's society was built literally upon the dead remains of their precursors.

Passing by various scholiasts and librarians at work she eventually reached the brass doors of Mephiston's living quarters aboard the Absolution's Ire. Knocking the door she was greeted by Rhacelus who bid her entry, his face turning to an annoyed glare as they met each other.

"You will not learn High Gothic by playing regicide," he said to her, getting a guilty smile from Weiss.

"Come now Gaius, some enjoyment in life will not hurt the girl," Mephiston replied from the shadows, a rare show of kindness from the usually indifferent Chief Librarian. Looking over to him Weiss found him smelling fresh of blood, his pale blonde hair sticky with the life-giving fluid, wearing a robe over his body instead of the flayed armor he usually wore around his chambers.

During long warp-voyages the Chief Librarian spent much of his time in his sarcophagus guiding the Ire and the rest of the fleet through the tempest that was the warp. With the Astronomicon's light no longer visible on this side of the galaxy more esoteric means had to be taken in order to traverse across Imperium Nihilus safely lest one risked daemonic incursion.

"You are up early," she commented with Mephiston nodding in response. Guiding the fleet took a great mental strain on the Chief Librarian with him needing a few hours to recover after exiting the warp. Melting into the shadows Mephiston reappeared in front of her causing Weiss to tense as the Lord of Death stared down at her.

"W-what did you summon me for lord?" she stuttered, still not used to the unsettling feeling that Mephiston seemed to radiate. Despite treating her well Weiss still feared the Lord of Death even after months of being with him, something she learned was not just exclusive to her or the thralls but the entire chapter from what had Ezio told her.

"I have a task for you and the Epistolary," he said after a very uncomfortable second of him staring down at her.

"And what would that be?" she asked.

"In a few days we will arrive above the planet of Saiph, it is to be made a fief of the Chapter once more, Lord Dante has decreed it," he explained.

"And how do me and Lord Rhacelus fit into this?"

"The aspirants that Saiph's killing fields will provide must be searched for psychic potential. The Librarius while skilled suffer too great an attrition rate even with the Primaris. Our numbers are still but a shadow of what they once were years after the Devastation. You will assist the Epistolary in finding potential recruits. Any that do not meet the criteria shall be made scholiasts."

"Why don't you conduct the search yourself, why us?" Mephiston narrowed his eyes at Weiss causing her already pale face to turn even paler as the Atlesian began regretting opening her big mouth.

"I have my own matters to attend to," he said, "and I wish to see if you are ready for some of the responsibilities I have in mind for you."

"Very well, anything else I should know of our expedition to Saiph?" she asked.

Mephiston walked over to his table and grabbed a skull, a servo-skull to be more precise as they were called, looking at it in his hands he performed the rite of activation awakening its machine spirit. Its anti-gravity engine powering on, the servo-skull came to life.

"You will need this while on Saiph," he replied, as it moved towards the huntress causing her face to cringe with disgust.

"Please, lord you know my feelings towards those… things," she protested.

"Your feelings have been noted and shall be disregarded Equerry," the Lord of Death replied.

"But—"

Mephiston snapped his head towards her his face a barely controlled rage.

"I appreciate this gift Lord Mephiston and am humbly grateful for your infinite mercy in giving such a device to a lowly creature like myself," she quickly said groveling in fear, "is there anything else you need of me or can I take my leave?"

"No, that is all you are free to leave, acolyte." Waving her off, his back now turned to the once huntress now equerry of the Lord of Death.

Chapter Text

Flying down to Saiph via an Overlord Gunship Weiss stood nervously as she felt the aircraft descend into the deathworld's atmosphere. Standing at the parade ready she found herself in the front row taking the spot where Mephiston would've stood amongst the delegation. Standing next to Rhacelus the pair stood to Dante's left while to his right was a marine in black with a skull mask, a chaplain as she learned he was called. Alongside them were the High Priest Corbulo of the Sanguinary Priesthood, the captains of the second, third, and fourth companies and Daeanotos with his Sanguinary Guard standing not too far from the Lord Commander. Strangely amongst them however was a woman decked out in an ornate set of armor that looked out of place in what she knew the Imperium employed. With it looking more like diving gear than the usual armor design the Imperial Guard made use of. Besides them, was a collection of Blood Thralls, marines, and other representatives of the Imperium such as the Adeptus Mechanicus, Administratum, and Astra Telepathica. Feeling nauseous as they descended into Saiph's atmosphere Weiss in that moment was regretting eating anything before they left the Ire.

"Don't vomit now Equerry," the woman in the diving gear told her, her voice muffled by the helmet she wore. "Don't want to make ourselves look like fools in front of the Saiphans."

"Sorry, I'm not used to traveling," she told her.

"First time making planet-fall?"

"No," she replied. "But it is my second."

"You'll get used to it, it just takes some time." The woman assured her.

"What's your name?" Weiss asked her.

"Colonel Giulia Prisca."

"Equerry Weiss Schnee," she replied in kind. "But I think you already knew that."

Feeling the gunship touch down Weiss alongside the rest of the delegation stood in silence as they waited for the all clear.

"Bolters at ready!" Captain Aphael of the Second Company bellowed. Klaxons then blared as the ramp of the massive shuttle opened. Being greeted by the harsh glow of a yellow sun Weiss alongside the other mortals covered their eyes while the space marines in the transport stepped out first and formed a path for them, their bolters held neutrally.

Outside the shuttle stood a group of what Weiss believed was Saiph's ruling class. While she still was not a fan of the servo-skull Mephiston had "gifted" her, she would be lying if it did not come in handy. Asking it about Saiph the servo-skull had given her a brief rundown on the deathworld before their departure which included a history of the planet and its politics and what to expect during her month-long stay.

From what she remembered Saiph had been the Blood Angels' (or Revenant Legion as they were known at that time) original homeworld during the Great Crusade before the discovery of Sanguinius. Made a fief after the move to Baal the world would continue giving recruits till the Heresy when the World Eaters invaded. Liberated during the Scouring the Blood Angels would abandon Saiph as they retreated to Baal for the next ten thousand years, with the planet just becoming another world for the Administratum to log in their census reports every century. With its significance reduced the many facilities that the XII Legion had destroyed were left in ruin being swallowed by the sands of Saiph over the millennia with only the Fortress Monastery of the Arx Spirituum remaining with it being repurposed into the planetary capital when the Blood Angels left.

Catching a glimpse at the governor he wore an elaborate yet simple red outfit akin to the robes the Blood Thralls wore, it was fancy enough to show his position but not too fancy to make him too opulent and vain to the eyes of the Astartes. Walking down the ramp a young thrall stopped at the shuttle's feet.

"Hail to the Regent and Warden of Imperial Nihilus," the thrall proclaimed his augmented voice carrying his words far beyond the airfield, "chosen by the returned primarch Roboutte Guilliman, Exemplar of the Host, and Lord Commander of the IX. Lord Dante greets you Overseer Ibrahim Falk XXVIII of Saiph!"

"DANTE! DANTE! DANTE!" the space marines cheered as their golden lord stepped down the ramp, his ceramite boots touching down on the ground of Saiph, with his Sanguinary Guard joining him. For the first time in many millennia a lord of blood had stepped foot on the deathworld with the rest of his retinue joining him. Giving the sign of the aquila to Dante the governor and his advisors knelt down to the chapter master in supplication.

"Welcome Lord Regent," the governor greeted. "We have awaited your arrival since receiving your message. The people of Saiph are honoured to serve The Blood once more."

"There is no need to kneel before me governor," Dante said gently, "you and your family have proven themselves worthy in our eyes by ruling this planet for ten thousand years in our absence."

"My apologies my lord," the governor replied before standing back up. "It has been many millennia since a malaikah has graced our soil with their presence, especially the sons of the Al'akthar 'Iishraqan."

"It is a shame then that this crisis reunites us governor," Dante replied.

"Yes," Falk said with a frown, understanding what the Lord Commander meant. "The Rift has brought anarchy even here on this backwater."

Dante nodded his head in agreement. Joining his side the chapter master turned to Weiss and the others.

"I am also accompanied by representatives of our Chaplaincy and Librarius governor," Dante began, "to my right is Chaplain Dario he alongside High Priest Corbulo shall be responsible for testing the aspirants you have for us." Dante then gestured to Weiss and Rhacelus. "To my left is Equerry Schnee and Epistolary Rhacelus they will be in charge of evaluating the aspirants that show any psychic potential."

Falk looked at them with a confused look. "Pardon my disrespect Lord Regent but I thought the Lord of Death would be joining you?" he asked.

"Chief Librarian Mephiston is currently preoccupied and unable to join us here on Saiph," Weiss replied on Dante's behalf in her most professional voice. "He sends his regards to you governor, any questions you may have for the Chief Librarian I will be happy to answer in his stead."

+Excellent work Equerry,+ Rhacelus said.

The governor nodded his head. With introductions out of the way, Dante and the governor began making their way towards the palace with Weiss and the others of the delegation not far behind. No longer the center of attention Weiss sighed a breath of relief as she trailed slightly behind the delegation taking in her new environment. The first thing she noticed about Saiph was how dry the world seemed to be before realizing this was probably how it felt being in a desert. To think my first time in one would be on an alien planet of all places. Looking around the landscape of the desolate world the Atlesian was reminded of pictures and videos she had seen of Vancou on Remnant moving her eyes to the sky she found two moons staring back at her. Showing faintly in the daytime, the servo-skull had told her how the moons caused various issues for communications and navigation on the deathworld with it causing early colonization efforts to be difficult for the first settlers. Yet still they chose to live here out of all places, she mused.

"It almost reminds me of Baalfora," a familiar voice said to her, causing the Atlesian to jump. Turning around she found Peregrine standing behind her looking at the Saiphan sky, his face a curious look.

"Perry?" she said. "What are you doing here?"

"For your lessons of course," he said with a smile. "Lord Rhacelus says it is of the utmost urgency that you learn High Gothic, especially for this assignment and also to 'make sure she writes something intelligible that won't give me a headache when I read it'," the Blood Thrall mocked imitating the gallow way the Epistolary seemed to always talk in.

"Ok, just please don't creep up like that again," Weiss told him, "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"This unit did not sense any signs of myocardial infarction," the servo-skull said in its baritone voice .

"It was an expression," she sighed to the floating skull.

The Blood Thrall chuckled. "My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you."

"So this dust bowl is what Baal Secundus is like?" Weiss said changing the subject.

"More or less," he shrugged. "The only difference is the sun here is yellow instead of red," he said as she peered again out at the wasteland that dominated the planet.

"How pleasant," Weiss deadpanned.

As the two talked Dante and the governor Falk spoke.

"Tell me governor what of the aspirants?" he asked him.

"Already gathered, thirty thousand have been brought here to await Chaplain Dario's and High Priest Corbulo's judgement," he told the Lord Commander.

"You have excelled with the task given to you governor," Dante said.

"Your chapter chose Saiph as its original homeworld for good reason my lord, the people of Saiph are a strong breed," Falk said with a proud smile.

"That remains to be seen governor but I cannot deny your recruitment numbers will prove quite bountiful in rebuilding our numbers and more with the task the Avenging Son has charged us with."

Walking into the Arx Spirituum Weiss and the rest of Dante's party were greeted by the architecture found only in the ships and fortresses of those of The Blood. With jewels and great works of art decorating every wall and crevice of the palace. Gawking at the beauty before her Peregrine had to elbow her in order to regain her attention.

"If you think this place is exquisite, wait till we get back to Baal. You'll love the Arx Angelicum!" he said with glee. Walking down the halls of the fortress they walked past a garden with a massive marble statue in the center. It was of a space marine who wore an ancient design of power armor that reminded Weiss of the knightly orders that existed in Remnant's past. In his right arm he held a massive axe while in his left was a flamer. His face like all sons of the Great Angel was beautifully sculpted resembling the primarch. Strangely though Weiss noticed a sculpted mask on the lower part of his face where his mouth would've been. Who was he? She asked herself.

"Ah, yes Judicar Aster Crohne of the 94th Company, the so-called Ghost of Saiph when the chapter was still a legion," Peregrine said. "A tragic man despised by his brothers only loved by his home."

"Why was he despised?" she asked Peregrine.

"He was a relic of what the legion was before the Great Angel, brutal, ferocious, without mercy. A revenant one could say."

"Why make a statue for him then?" she asked.

"The people of Saiph value strength above all else, Weiss," he explained. "While the chapter sees Crohne as a disgrace better left forgotten, to the people of Saiph he is seen as one of Sanginius' great champions and by extension the Emperor himself." Looking at the statue a final time Weiss couldn't help feeling a tinge of sadness for the man before turning to rejoin the delegation as they moved deep into the palace.

Eventually coming to a massive dining room where they were seated by governor Falk's servants they were treated to a feast. Being segregated from the rest of the delegation Weiss sat with the rest of the Blood Thralls and other adepts that came with them. As Falk's attendees brought the food out Weiss' face turned pale upon seeing it. Weiss had thought the cuisine served aboard the Absolution's Ire was odd to an extent but upon seeing what the Saiphan's had served she realized just how lucky she was. Serving what appeared to be an odd mix of arthropod and endopod the dish had the slight tinge of chemicals to its smells. Turning her head to see if her fellow mortals felt the same she saw most if not all of the attendants enjoying the food, even the adepts seemed to find enjoyment in it.

"How the hell are you eating this?" she asked Peregrine in a low voice.

"You take whatever meal you can get on Baalfora," he replied, before taking a sip of the Saiphan wine being served.

"But this?!" she motioned to the food.

"I've eaten much worse when I was kid, at least these Saiphans know how to cook. A Baalite's idea of cooking is just to dehydrate whatever you can find crawling in the dirt and live off that for a week."

Looking at the food again with some reluctance Weiss put a small mouthful of the alien meal into her mouth expecting a horrendous taste. As she chewed she found it tasting between a mix of lobster and what she would say was pork. It was surprisingly good! Digging in her dish Weiss' eyes wandered the feasting table to where the space marines sat, their helmets off; they were also enjoying the same dishes as their mortal servants. All except for Dante who still wore his golden mask puzzling her.

"Why hasn't the Lord Commander taken off his helmet?" she asked Peregrine.

"Who knows," Peregrine replied. "From what Ezio told me only his personal servants and the highest members of the chapter are privy of what he looks like behind the mask," Peregrine told her. "Perhaps a habit he picked up after so many centuries? You must remember the Lord Commander is ancient even for a space marine most of their number rarely survive past a few centuries let alone up to Lord Dante's age."

"Still he must find it tiresome hiding behind that thing, brothers know how sweaty it must be in that panoply of war."

Peregrine shrugged.

"The mask is a symbol," a familiar voice answered. Turning their heads up the two were greeted by Giulia Pricsa, who now had her helmet off revealing a beautiful yet scarred face, with the right part of it looking rad burnt and a cut on her lower lip with her hair tied neatly in a bun behind her head in a fashion that reminded Weiss of how Winter liked to do her hair with the only difference being Prisca's hair was black instead of white.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Peregrine asked not having a clue who the woman was.

"Colonel Giulia Prisca of the soon to be revived Saiphan Elavatii of the Imperial Army," she told Peregrine with pride. "Equerry Schnee and I have already introduced ourselves in the flight down here," she said before taking a massive bite of the Saiphan dish they had been given. "To go back to the original question, the Lord Commander does not remove his mask because he sees the hope his visage brings. To the people of the Imperium he is Sanguinius reborn, he understands the importance of such a symbol so he wears the mask," she elaborated.

"I presume you have seen his face then Colonel?" Peregrine replied.

Prisca thought for a long moment before replying. "Perhaps," she said with a devious smile.

"What did he look like?" Peregrine asked, practically jumping out of his chair by that point.

Prisca smiled.

"Sorry thrall Peregrine, but I'm afraid I can't tell you that," she replied before taking a drink from her goblet. Getting a frown from him.

"You mentioned to me when we first met Giulia that you're a Colonel. I thought we were only here for recruits for the chapter, not to raise a guard regiment," Weiss decided to ask, changing the conversation.

"We are but space marines will not be enough to retake Imperium Nihilus from the bastard heretics that infest its worlds," she explained, taking another sip of her wine. "Lord Dante understands the rigidness of stagnant Terra will not win this war Equerry."

"Is that why he is reviving the Imperial Army?" Peregrine asked, "Surely he must know that is pushing the limits with the High Lords. The army was separated by Lord Guilliman himself after the Heresy."

The Heresy despite happening ten thousand years ago was still important as Weiss had learned especially for the Blood Angels for its conclusion saw the death of their primarch Sanginius. It was so destructive that many reforms that would have benefitted the Imperium were prevented out of fear of a repeat of another civil war on the same scale. Better to stick with the status quo then risk turmoil, that was at least Imperial line of thought.

"The rules are made to be bent thrall, even Lord Guilliman understands this," Prisca said, shoving a piece of pseudopod into her mouth. "With the Despoiler running amuck the Astartes are needed more than ever; we cannot afford to waste resources on petty wars on our home front. Nor be hampered by the petty rivalries of the navy and guard, if the light of the Emperor is to be restored in Imperium Nihilus we must be a well oiled machine for this war."

"Still I thought Lord Dante had to take this up with the High Lords of Terra or Lord Guilliman?" Weiss asked.

Peregrine had explained the inner workings of the Imperium to her one day during their lessons, and to say the huntress had been confused was an understatement. Imperial politics was best described as a clusterfuck in the bluntest of terms. Hundreds of organizations that constantly warred with each other over the pettiest of reasons that it would be comical to Weiss if not so tragic for all the death it led to. At the top of this pecking order of galactic stupidity were the High Lords of Terra or High Twelve the ones who ran the show of this disaster of an interstellar empire. While she did not have good opinions of them (who did really?) she did understand that to go against their law was tantamount to suicide. From what she was told by Peregrine, 'one does not become a part of the High Twelve without breaking a few eggs or in their case… a few worlds.'

"The High Lords? Here?" Prisca laughed. "Silly girl as far as I'm concerned the word of the High Lords in Imperium Nihilus is worth as much as a copy of the Imperial Guard primer in terms of value."

Peregrine looked at the Colonel anxiously as she laughed. "Control yourself or you'll be—"

"What? Be branded a heretic?" finishing his sentence. "Come now thrall Peregrine there are no inquisitors here to burn us on the stake lest they wish for an early grave," she said, turning her head to Dante while he was discussing something with one of his captains at the other side of the dining table. Peregrine rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I think that's enough politics for one night Perry. Why don't we enjoy ourselves before the real work begins," Weiss said the last words were bitter on her tongue. A month on Saiph was not going to be pleasant even if they were staying at the Arx Spirituum for the entirety of their stay. Saiph was classified by the paper pushers of the Adeptus Adminstratum as a deathworld for good reason being in a lavish palace would not change that fact, she was going to hate every minute of being on this rock.

"Equerry Schnee is right, enough of the politics that is for the angels to discuss, not us mere servants," Prisca added in agreement. "Why don't we discuss something more interesting such as the witch that is serving that wraith up in the Librarius," obviously referring to Weiss.

"What's there to discuss? You know I'm sworn by oath not to speak the secrets the Librarius holds," Weiss shrugged, trying to deflect the conversation from herself.

"How about that scar?" she said pointing towards her left eye. "Must be an interesting story behind that, don't you agree thrall Peregrine?" Peregrine merely shrugged as he took another sip from his goblet.

"Well if you are expecting a riveting tale I'm sorry to disappoint you Giulia but it's just something I got during a training exercise," she told her with boredom in her voice.

"I call groxshit, there must be more," she replied. Weiss rolled her eyes before groaning.

"Ugh…fine, there's a bit more, it wasn't just a mere training exercise but a test by my father to see if I was ready to become a huntsman on my homeworld, and during it I got cut on the eye," she elaborated, getting a bit of a frown from Prisca when she finished.

"I guess you were right, that is quite the boring tale."

"I told you," Weiss said deadpanned.

Getting up from her the next day Weiss got dressed for her first day on Saiph donning her robes and grabbing the necessary supplies she would need such as a quill and parchment, the huntress looked around her room for anything else she would need with her eyes fell on Myrtenaster as she looked at it with nostalgia. She had not used the rapier in combat since Tovin, her duties had left her little time for combat practice. While her proficiency in her aura and semblance had drastically increased her swordsmanship skills had grown rusty. Thinking for a moment on whether or not she should bring it Weiss decided to take it for old times sake. Hiding it in her robes Weiss left her personal chambers for her duties for the day.

Walking down the vast halls and antechambers of the Arx Spirituum Weiss was still in awe at the splendor of the ancient palace. To think this is considered humble by Imperial standards. Going over to the eating hall Weiss grabbed herself a cup of recaf before making her way to the makeshift barracks the tech adepts had built for housing the aspirants. Reaching the barracks she was greeted by a contingent of blue robed scholiasts assigned under her to help in the process. Alongside the scholiasts was Chaplain Dario.

"My lord," she greeted the chaplain, bowing her head slightly.

"Equerry," he curtly replied.

"How many recruits have you brought us?" she asked him.

"Epistolary Rhacelus picked out fifty two from the twelve hundred twenty nine I and High Priest Corbulo deemed worthy."

"I see," Weiss said, looks like it won't be that difficult. "Can you show us the recruits so we can begin our tests, Lord Chaplain?"

"Of course," he said, "right this way Equerry."

Entering the barracks Weiss was greeted by a collection of boys whose ages seemed to fall between six to fourteen, with her theorizing that some of them were younger than they appeared, having been weathered from Saiph's harsh conditions. Many of them appeared to have mutations or the first signs of cancer on their bodies with a few looking like they were barely more than skin and bones. Each of their faces told a story of great tragedy and bloodshed that caused her great sadness. She found it repugnant the methods the Astartes went about with their recruiting but had held her tongue on the opinion seeing it as pointless debate that she was in no position to even think to start arguing with. Seeing it up close however was a different matter entirely, how many of these poor boys will even survive the trials let alone the surgeries? She knew Saiph was not a pleasant world but from the look of these boys it seemed the harsh reality of the planet was much worse than she had originally imagined. This planet makes Remnant look like a paradise.

"ASPIRANTS!" the chaplain bellowed, causing Weiss and the scholiasts present to twitch as they covered their ears at the marine's loud voice.

"These thralls-" Dario gestured his crozius towards them, "-serve the librarius. I am entrusting them with your care, they will be responsible for seeing if you are worthy to become an angel. Their word is to be treated as if it comes from me or one of my brothers, is that understood?"

The recruits nodded their heads.

"Good," the chaplain said, satisfied. "I will be taking my leave now Equerry," he told Weiss. Walking out of the barracks with the door shutting behind him it only took a few seconds of the marine's absence for anarchy to immediately break loose as the children began running around the barracks and screaming. It would've been funny if it weren't for the fact that said children were a bunch of untrained psykers who had the ability to bend reality with a single thought. Brothers, this is going to be a long month. Looking to the other scholiasts she found she was not alone in that feeling.

After a minute of Weiss and the scholiasts contemplating their life decisions up to that point they would be brought back to reality when one of the aspirants began chucking fireballs across the room. Seeing things had escalated enough, one of the scholiasts cleared his throat and elbowed Weiss in the shoulder. Turning her head to him he gestured towards the aspirants in a manner that said, well?

Sighing with annoyance Weiss walked forward.

"Could—"

"Please for just a moment—"

"Can we all—"

On her third attempt one of the boys shot a bolt of bio-lightning from his hands that struck her. Thankfully her aura had stopped her from being injured however it did not stop her hair from being turned into a spiked white mess.

The aspirants then laughed at how ridiculous she now looked with her finding some of scholiasts stifling laughs themselves at her new hairstyle. The scholiasts quickly stopped when she snapped her head towards them with a baleful look as her face turned a deep red in color.

"THAT ENOUGH!" she yelled, turning her attention to the aspirants causing the room to go quiet as the children immediately stopped laughing. At least, most of them. One of the aspirants still not getting the memo kept laughing causing Weiss to turn her fury upon him, pulling out Myrtenaster from her robes she summoned a glyph where he stood and held the child to the ceiling.

"Anybody else?" she asked, shaking their heads in a no Weiss dropped the boy currently on the ceiling back down.

"Good," she said, regaining her composure while her servo-skull began combing her hair back down. "My name is Weiss Schnee. I am Equerry to Chief Librarian Mephiston of the Blood Angels. As Chaplain Dario said I will be responsible for seeing if you are worthy to ascend to the ranks of the Librarius. Any questions before we begin your screening?" she asked them.

One of the boys raised his hand.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I need to pee," he said.

"Then go use the toilet."

"What's a toilet?"

Weiss gave the child a puzzled look, before the servo skull spoke up.

"Analyzing...Analyzing... This unit was unable to find any Imperial facilities designated as 'toilets' on Saiph," it said, causing Weiss to remember that Saiph was a deathworld whose population was considered more or less feral by the Administratum. Slapping her face it slowly dawned on Atlesian in that moment why the Chief Librarian had given her this assignment. This was going to be a long month. Damn you Mephiston!

Chapter Text

Landing the Devilfish near a clearing the five t'au and one faunas stepped out of the hovercraft. Tapping a button on his data-slate two drones on the side of the hovercraft activated. Turning invisible the drones zoomed off to scout the perimeter before returning a few minutes later with their report.

"The perimeter is clear of Be'gel and Gue'ron'sha shas-ui," Ay'ur replied as he read the data. Satisfied with the earth-caste's answer Var'un turned to Blake and the pathfinders.

"Warriors Xira'gos and Suun'vah I want you to patrol the ruins." He pointed, getting a nod from the two fire-warriors before they rushed off. "Warrior Ay'ur?"

"Yes shas-ui?" the earth-caste replied, still looking at his data-slate.

"You and I shall stay with the Devilfish to monitor the situation in case we need to make a quick escape."

"Aye, sir," the earth-caste saluted before going back into the Devilfish.

"What about us sir?" Blake asked.

Var'un turned to Blake and Ol'nanal. "You two are to watch over the perimeter and provide overwatch for Xira'gos and Suun'vah while they patrol the ruins. If it doesn't have hooves, kill it on sight. Except for Warrior Blake of course," he joked with a smile looking down at her feet. "Got that warriors?!" he bellowed to them, with the last part being directed to Blake.

"Aye sir," they both replied before running off to their assigned position.

Perching themselves on a cliff overseeing the alien ruins that covered over Arthas Moloch, hours passed with no enemy activity. Growing bored Blake looked to her wrist to check the time before remembering she didn't have a watch on her nor ever did. Sighing at the boredom, the faunas' eyes began moving to a statue that stood a few feet away from the pair. Looking up at the statue Blake felt a sense of unease and wonder at the alien structure. It caught the attention of her curiosity as she began wondering as to what civilization must have once called this world home and what must've happened to them to lay them low to the point where only their ruins remained. It was fascinating! Her thoughts however would be interrupted by Var'un who began reprimanding her through her communicator or, as she learned it was called a "vox".

"Warrior, stop staring at the statues, and keep watch over your squad-mates!" the sergeant hissed at her. Turning her eyes away from the statue Blake refocused her attention to their mission as she looked around the abandoned ruins that Xira'gos and Suun'vah were currently scouting. As she looked around for any signs of potential enemies boredom set in again, seeing as sight-seeing was a no-no for her she tried the next best thing, small talk.

"So," she began, "this planet…the statues are kinda pretty don't you agree," she asked her alien teammate.

"Pretty is a word I would not use to describe these statues," the markswoman replied, still staring down the sight of her railgun.

"Yah, maybe pretty isn't the word for them…" she said.

Ol'nanal scoffed. "Creepy is probably better," she remarked. "Damn things make me feel like I'm being watched by something."

Turning her head enough to catch a look at the faceless statues in the corner of her eye, Blake felt a chill go down her spine as she realized the sharpshooter was right, and I thought this planet couldn't get any creepier.

"Um… how about the Enclaves, what is it like over there?" she asked, trying to change subjects.

"Better than here," the t'au remarked, "there are no mutant gue'las yapping in my ears back home."

"Right, sorry."

Guess small talk is off the list. Sitting in silence once more Blake went back to looking around the ruins, looking down its scope the faunas caught something small and green in her vision.

"I thought there were no plants on Moloch?" she whispered, causing Ol'nanal to jerk her head to the faunas.

"Where?" she asked with a hint of worry in her otherwise monotone voice. Pointing her finger towards the plant she saw Ol'nanal point her railgun in the direction of her hand as she looked down her sight.

The alien cursed in t'au. "It's an ork," she hissed, returning to Low Gothic. Looking down her scope again Blake realized Ol'nanal was right, it was no plant. Getting a better view of her discovery Blake found herself staring at a little green creature, it had a lanky body and large nose, it looked like a goblin but without the fairytale charm. For some reason as she looked at the green alien she felt pity for it, it was so… pathetic, she couldn't place why though.

She didn't have to worry long though as Ol'nanal had aligned her railgun's scope at the creature's head and pulled the trigger. Echoing across the ruins after she fired her railgun the faunas found the air smelling of burnt ozone, looking again down the scope of her rifle where the ork had stood she found it was nothing more than a mess of red across the otherwise dull gray of Arthas Moloch. Var'un then voxed in.

"Warrior Ol'nanal come in!" the sergeant said, "did you encounter hostiles?" the t'au sergeant asked.

"Warrior Blake spotted a gretchin shas-uh," she reported.

"Is it dead?"

"Yes."

"Do you spot any other green-skins?" he then asked the two.

"Negative sir, I think it was only the one,"

"Thank the Tau'va it was just a gretchin," the sergeant sighed. "Be on high alert if there's one green-skin running amuck there's always a hundred more."

"Aye, shas-uh," she replied. "Me and warrior Blake shall be on high alert, warrior Ol'nanal signing off."

Cutting their vox connection Blake turned to the sharpshooter. "What's the big deal? They don't look that harmful," she asked her. If that thing that Vash'yr had killed was what to expect from the orks Blake didn't understand what the big deal was.

Xira'gos had explained to her during the trip here what to expect when it came to fighting Orks or "Be'gal" as they were called in the T'au tongue. Originally thinking his explanation was some weird drawn out joke Blake was shocked to find out that it wasn't as her other teammates seemed to corroborate the smooth tongue fire-warrior's explanation, even Var'un out of all people said he was talking truthfully. Apparently the ork species only lived for a single purpose in life, and that was to fight, their lives be damned it didn't matter to them. With Xira'gos explaining that they were idiotic race that believed colors warped reality and whose weapons were more or less just scrap metal that had no reason to function. It was ridiculous! No, not ridiculous, outright stupid! There was no way in all of the world… or galaxy that an alien species like that existed!

Ol'nanal scoffed at the faunas' naivety. "You perhaps should clean your ear lobes, both pairs preferably. That was a gretchin—" pointing to where the alien once stood, "—not an ork."

"What's the difference?" she asked before immediately regretting opening her mouth.

"WAAGGGHHHH!"

Turning around the t'au and faunas watched in horror as dozens of green tusked aliens with ramshackle guns and crude blades began running at them from behind their position.

"That's the difference," Ol'nanal said, pointing at the rowdy mob. Leaping to cover as the greenskins began firing haphazardly into the air (sometimes each other) to attack the pair, the two chose a fallen pillar to hide behind. Firing potshots at the brutes as they closed in on their position the two tried desperately to stem the green tide that charged them with murderous intent.

"Warrior Vash'yr to shas-uh we have been ambushed!" the markswoman yelled into the vox as she fired her railgun at an ork obliterating its skull. "I repeat the Be'gel have ambushed us requesting immediate backup!"

"Shas-uh to warrior Vash'yr and Blake stand by for evac. We are grabbing the others and will arrive shortly, survive until then," Ay'ur told them before cutting the vox.

Swearing something in T'au Blake saw the pathfinder fire her railgun into the orks killing three with a single slug. Assisting the markswoman Blake shot her pulse-rifle into the ork horde but found her gun barely effective in slowing the orks down. The damn things were tough as hell! With her finding it, taking a third of her magazine to bring the stupid brutes down.

Slowly racking up a sizable kill count the faunas took notice that despite the losses they were taking the ork's morale didn't seem to break. It's like fighting the Grimm! She thought as she dodged another shot from a crude gun. I take that back, it's worse! At least Grimm didn't shoot at you.

Swiping a choppa and her as the orks got into melee range of them Blake pulled out Gambol Shroud from her waist and blocked its attack, with her thanking her stubbornness for saving her life in that moment. Blocking another strike from ork as it swung its choppa down towards her skull Blake pushed aside its blade with Gambol Shroud and used the opening to bisect the ork's by the waist. Immediately after its death another of the orks lunged at her this time with an axe, using her semblance to create a shadow clone the ork's face turned into a confused look as his axe landed down on her clone. His small brain puzzled that the humie he had been trying to kill wasn't a pile of mush the thought ceased as the top of his scalp was cleaved off by the faunas.

Looking over to Ol'nanal Blake found the pathfinder struggling with the green-skins. Fighting the orks off with a short-sword the faunas could tell the t'au's forte was not in swordsmanship and would be overwhelmed soon if she didn't do something about it. Grabbing her pulse-rifle off the dirt Blake began firing at the orks assailing the pathfinder hoping to drive their focus on her and away from her partner. Good news was it worked! Bad news was now the orks were focusing on her now!

Turning their faces in her direction the orks smiled at the faunas causing her to shiver with dread. These… beasts enjoy this?! Roaring at her, the orks assailing her partner charged the huntsman. Firing at the orks Blake killed the three out of the five charging her with her pulse-rifle clicking dry, moving her hand to grab a new magazine Blake instead found air where her extra mags should've been, perfect. Swinging a choppa at her Blake used her pulse-rifle to block the ork's attempt on her life, cutting the rifle in two Blake swore to herself as she smacked the alien in the head with the remains of her gun disorientating it before backflipping and creating a clone as its partner tried getting a swing on her. Turning Gambol Shroud into its pistol form she shot the two orks in the head killing them instantly.

Taking a breath as the last ork slumped to the ground the faunas walked to where Vash'yr stood.

"Not bad gue'la," the pathfinder complimented her as she approached.

"Was that all of them?" she asked her. Before the t'au could answer Blake turned her head west as she heard the sound of motors roaring. Looking at the horizon Blake saw a dust cloud approaching them using her helmet to zoom in, the faunas froze in horror as she saw the images of what was in the dust cloud. "I need to stop opening my mouth," she lamented.

Surrounding the two a collection of ork buggies, trucks, and bikes circled the pair as the orks on top howled like maniacs on their shoddily made vehicles before coming to a stop. Jumping out of their vehicles the orks surrounded Blake and Ol'nanal, pulling their weapons as they prepared to make a last stand. The orks stopped as one of their numbers snarled something in what she presumed was orkish. Moving out of the way to form a path, the largest ork she had seen by that point strode forth to greet them. The alien was as tall as it was wide wearing crude blocky bright red armor across its body. In its hands it carried a massive axe? Buzz-saw? Thing? She wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to be. All she knew was if she or Ol'nanal were hit by it there would not be much to put in their coffins. On the back of the massive ork sat a machine gun with another of the small goblin things Ol'nanal and the other pathfinders had called a "gretchin" manning it. Stopping a foot away from her the green-skin looked down at them for a long second before smiling at them with a jovial grin.

"Oi dis one's not a gun-runt," it said in broken Low Gothic, smelling her the orks turned its head to its comrades. "Dis iz jus a humie."

The orks whooped and cheered at this sudden development, before settling down.

"Boss humies are a gud fight aren't dey?" the gretchin on his back asked him.

"Dat's right Lad, humies are a gud fight," he told the little goblin, causing its face to light up with a massive smile.

"Yay Lad was right!" it cheered dancing on the ork's back.

"Enough fool'n around Lad we 'ave bizzness now," the ork told his little companion.

"Right boss Lad will shut 'is gob now," it replied. Looking down at her again the ork still had that murderer's grin on its face yet still it did not make any moves to attack her or Ol'nanal.

"Usually I'd kill yer 'ere humie but yer an' 'da gun-runt have provided me an' 'da boyz wit' a gud zoggin' scrap," it began, "so I'll be nice an' let ya go."

Blake and Ol'nanal turned to each other before looking back at the ork again.

"You're serious?" Blake said not believing the alien.

"Of kourse I'm serious, I'd be a bad boss if I weren't true to me word. Ya jus got ta krump me 'n a fight," the ork elaborated.

"Krump?" Blake repeated, confused what the word meant.

Ol'nanal turned to her. "It's Orkish for kill," she whispered to the faunas. "He'll let us go if you can kill him, that's what it's saying."

"Oh," Blake whimpered as she looked back at the menacing physique of the ork leader. "Could you give us a minute?" she asked the ork leader.

"I don't see why not," the ork shrugged.

Blake turned to Ol'nanal. "So what do we do?" she asked her blue-skinned comrade.

"Fight it of course."

Blake tensed at the pathfinder's words. "Are you nuts? Look at the size of that thing!" the faunas hissed pointing to the massive ork.

"Ay'ur to Ol'nanal can you hear me?" their vox beads lit up.

"Yes Ay'ur I can hear you," the t'au replied.

"What's your situation?"

"Green," she told him. The vox was silent for a moment.

"We just picked up Xira'gos and Suun'vah," he said back, "keep them occupied until we arrive."

Ol'nanal turned her head to Blake. "You heard the Fio we need to buy some time," she told her. "Now get out there and fight that overgrown mushroom so we may have a chance to live!"

"Why me?" Blake asked.

"Because you have mind-science and I don't, that's why!" she hissed to the faunas.

"Ya gits gunna fight or not?!" the ork demanded growing impatient with them.

"Yes, just give one more minute please!" Ol'nanal told him with a fake smile before turning her head back to Blake. "Fight that green-skin gue'la or so help me. I will torment you for eternity if there is such a thing as an afterlife because I'll be damned if I die on this hell to a bunch of hooligan orks!"

Blake moaned with annoyance before walking up to the massive green-skin.

"I will fight you," she said, each word painful for her to say. Causing the orks to all cheer with glee. I can't believe I'm doing this!

The ork smiled at her. "Right den, I am honurble boss humie what's yer name?"

"Blake Belladonna," she told the ork.

The orks chuckled. "Dat's a funny humie name," Urdshag commented, "ma name iz Urdshag Blitzcleava of da Evil Sunz."

Getting into their battle stances an ork boy in what looked like a referee outfit (as stupid as that was to believe) stepped forth to give their fight a countdown.

"Right den, I want a clean fight no silly bizzness or tricks jus some gud ol' fashioned krumpin!" the referee told them. "Got dat?"

The two shook their heads in acknowledgment.

"Alrighty free, two, four, six—," Urdshag and Blake turned their heads to the ork with a confused look. "Uh… eight, two, five, te—" The referee's head disappeared as an impatient ork tired of waiting blew his head off with his shoota.

"Waagghh!" Urdshag yelled as he charged Blake with his big choppa.

Weaving underneath the green-skin's strike Blake began looking for a weak point in the ork's armor but found him too well covered. Slashing Gambol Shroud at his joints she found her blade ineffective against the ork's armor leaving little more than a shallow cut in its thick plating. Why the hell did I agree to do this! She yelled at herself as Urdshag swung his big choppa once more at the faunas creating a shadow clone in her place as she dodged his strike. She may have had speed, intelligence, and the skill but it would not work against Urdshag, he was just too durable. Blake needed a new strategy if she had any plans on surviving this fight and fast.

"Stand still humie!" Urdshag roared at her as the huntsman dodged another one of his strikes. Analyzing the ork the faunas began looking for any weak spots the green-skin may have before her eyes moved up to where the gretchin was clinging on. He seemed to care a lot about that little goblin. What would happen if she shot it? Transforming her weapon into its pistol form the faunas aimed...

Urdshag found the humie's new attempt to beat him comical, the stupid thing thought a few bullets would stop him but not him! Not Urdshag Blitzcleava for he was not just brutal but also cunning when the humie fired he would turn his shoulder and let his pauldron block its shot then smash it to bits! So predictable these humies, such a pathetic stupid species, they were worse than grots! But the humie didn't aim for his head, aiming it to his back the ork boss wondered what the zogging hell it was shooting at before remembering where Lad was. 'Da zoggin humie iz gunna shoot Lad! His eyes bulging from his head the ork swung its fists in anger at the humie. Looking to where the humie had stood Urdshag found it had moved out his attack again. Damn humie! Hearing whistling, the boss turned its head to the right (or was it left?) and found the humie aiming its shoota at his head.

"Jackpot."

The alien roared as it began staggering in pain, as it found itself with one less eye to see through.

To make matters better the cavalry had finally arrived! Zooming into the ork horde the Devilfish began shredding the mob of green-skins. Their numbers in confusion the hovercraft stopped in front of her and Ol'nanal, its hatch opening two were greeted by Xira'gos who stared down at them, his face probably a smug smile under his helmet.

"You ladies in need of some help?" he asked.

"Shut it Xira'gos!" Var'un yelled from inside the hovercraft, his voice muffled yet loud enough to make out clearly from inside the war machine, pushing the fire-warrior aside, his eyes met the pair.

"Mission parameters have changed," he said to them, "get in the Devilfish we're leaving," he told them.

"Shouldn't we finish these orks off first, sir?" Blake said, flabbergasted by the sergeant's orders. Var'un slapped his helmet.

"Not if you want to live!" Var'un yelled with a hint of fear breaking through his usually tough and gruff exterior. "Besides orks are going to be the least of our problems if we stay here."

Turning back to the mob of orks she found the sergeant was right there were too many. Having wasted enough of their time Blake and Ol'nanal jumped into the Devilfish before the hovercraft zoomed across the dead gray steppes of Arthas Moloch leaving Urdshag and his remaining men in the dust.

"Boss ya alright?" Lad asked the boss. Urdshag growled before grabbing a nearby boy by the throat and snapping its neck.

"Where's 'da humie?!" he snarled.

"Gone boss left wit' 'da gun-runts," one of his boys told him meekly. The boss howled with anger before grabbing the unlucky underling and smashing his head to a pulp with his fists.

"Wot are yer lot do'n jus standing?" he yelled. "Get 'em!"

"Yes, boss!" the lads said in unison. Running over to where they left their vehicles the orks began revving their engines with Urdshag himself jumping into his own personal Scrapjet while Lad sat in his lap and they began pursuing the gun-runts in their "hovadoohikky".

Despite sitting safely in the confines of the Devilfish Blake still felt vulnerable even as hovercraft flew over Moloch's surface away from the orks. The faunas couldn't help but feel their lives were still in great danger. And she wasn't alone, taking off his helmet Xira'gos began smoking a cigarette inside the vehicle. It was the smell of fruity burnt ash that caused Blake to wrinkle her nose at the scent. With Suun'vah deciding to break the silence to complain about it.

"Could you please not smoke that lho-stick right now Xira'gos?" the young fire-warrior Suun'vah complained. "You're stinking up the Devilfish with its smell."

"I'm stressed alright!" the pathfinder retorted. "I want to die with some happiness before the Be'gel get us," he replied as he continued smoking.

"How many are there?" Blake said low still shell shocked by her encounter with the green-skins.

"Millions if not billions," Ay'ur replied while he drove the Devilfish causing the huntsmen to shudder. The Devilfish shook violently as Blake heard the sound of car engines near them.

"Damn it," Ay'ur swore, "those damn orks are following us. We need to lose them."

Opening a holo-disk Var'un looked at the nearby terrain with an inquisitive look.

"Lead them to this canyon," he pointed to the virtual display. "Their vehicles are going too fast to maneuver properly, if we go here they'll destroy themselves."

Ay'ur shook his head. "Aye, shas-ui, it shall be done," he said before turning the hovercraft in the direction of the canyon. Slowing down as they entered the canyon Blake felt the Devilfish jerk occasionally as the earth-caste navigated its twisting paths and crevices while the sound of ork vehicles exploded in the background. Exiting the canyon the earth-caste turned to the sergeant.

"We lost them sir," Ay'ur told Var'un causing a massive pressure to lift off all of them. For the first time since they began their mission Blake felt like they were finally safe. It was however short lived when the Devilfish began to shake violently as Blake heard the sound of planes zipping past them.

"What was that?" Suun'vah said his voice filled with fear.

"Ork bombers?" Xira'gos suggested.

"Damn it!" the group turned to Ay'ur, "Shas-ui we have a problem."

"What type of problem warrior?"

Turning their heads to a screen the four t'au and faunas huddled around it. The sergeant swore as he saw what was being displayed. Looking at it closer revealed a ship that was edged with spikes across its hull with an odd eight-pointed star that hurt Blakes eyes by looking at it. It was crude, too crude to be t'au yet too angled to be whatever the orks seemed to employ.

"What are they?" she whispered to Ol'nanal confused by what the problem was.

"Harbingers," the sergeant replied.

"And that means?"

"Things are about to get worse, a whole lot worse," Xira'gos said, before taking another smoke from his lho-stick. Feeling the Devilfish shake again, this time more violently Blake wondered if she was going to live through the day.

"Boss wot do we do now?" one Urdshag's boys asked him as he and the rest of his remaining mob scavenged their mauled vehicles. The ork boss was furious. Twice the humie and gun-runts had made a fool of him to his boys, that was unacceptable. Snorting his nose with pure anger Urdshag snapped his head to the boy.

"We hunt 'em uv kourse, I want dose gun-runts an' da humie dead!" he told him. Smart enough not to question him further, the ork boy ran away from the boss to convey his orders.

"Oi boss," Lad began. "When we kill 'da gun-runts can Lad have 'da humie's head as a hat?" he asked, and Urdshag looked into the distance.

That one who called itself "Blake Bell-a-don…" or whatever it said its stupid name was– he wanted to fight the humie fair and square, and what did he got for that?

He touched his missing eye and growled. Sneaky git, but bein' kunnin ain't all that mattaz.

Urdshag smiled to his grot with a dangerous spark in his remaining eye. "Uv kourse Lad," he said, his teeth visible for all to see.

"Yay!" Lad cheered dancing in the dirt. "Lad iz gett'n a new hat!"

"Yes Lad iz gett'n a new hat!" he reiterated, his mood now cheery as he thought of ripping off the humie's head with glee.

Chapter Text

In the atmosphere of Arthas Moloch floated a massive ship or better described a collection of ships fused together in an unholy machination, a Space Hulk as it was called by the denizens of the galaxy. Yet this was no mere Space Hulk for it was an Ark of Omen, cleared by the forces of Chaos and repurposed the conglomeration of lost vessels now serving as the flagship for the daemon prince, Ughalax the Soul Eater. Looking over the dais on what served as the command bridge of the Unhallowed as the massive dreadnaught had been christened, Ughalax sat on a massive throne overlooking the progress that his men made on the dead world. Having encountered the T'au and Orks upon arriving at Arthas Moloch Ughalax and his Balefleet had been forced into a three way war between the xenos by the World Eaters that were allied with him. He had lost many of his forces to the upstart species as well as to the Orks because of the sons of Angron. With a month having passed since arriving on this decrepit world, the Soul Eater's patience was starting to run thin. Curse those World Eaters, he hissed as he saw the latest losses.

Studying the areas the t'au had been engaged the daemon prince noticed something. Zooming in with his claw Ughalax began highlighting all the areas on the tactical hololith the xenos had been met finding one thing in common. They were defending the ruins of the northern hemisphere of the planet. How peculiar, he thought to himself before studying the anomaly further.

"What are they planning?" he whispered in a low growl as he analyzed the telemetry data. Cross analyzing and triangulating locations the daemon prince found their forces centered around one area of the region. Taking a closer look Ughalax realized what the T'au were doing. The Great Star Dais, as these foolish xenos had dubbed this monument to the Blood God. The Soul Eater felt a tinge of pity for the T'au in their ignorance, if only they knew the truth of what they were unleashing. Nevertheless they could not be allowed to release the daemons Ughalax had wasted enough resources on this task given to him by the Dark Artificer, he would not waste more getting bogged down by the servants of the Brazen Lord. That's when a realization occurred to him, the filthy aliens must have their base close if they were converging on the temple. Ughalax smiled maliciously. Turning to one of the slaves on the deck he pointed towards a location on the hololith.

"Have our forces deep strike into this location here," he told him with the mortal nodding his head before shouting at his underlings in the lower deck. Looking at the map again Ughalax smiled a toothy grin. "You have nowhere else to hide little xenos," he whispered to himself before refocusing his attention on another part of the campaign. Satisfied that at least one of his foes would be defeated by day's end.

"Damn it Ay'ur can you make this thing go faster!" Suun'vah yelled at the earth-caste as three Harbingers fired down at them.

"It is going as fast as it possibly can!" he responded with his attention focused on driving the hovercraft before the devilfish shook again.

"How much longer till we reach the camp?" Blake asked in response to the last close hit.

"Shouldn't be just far now, another two or three tor'kan and will be back at base," Ay'ur replied with a tense voice.

"The hell is a tor'kan!" Blake yelled as another las-bolt just barely missed the hovercraft.

"It means very close warrior Blake, now all you sit down and stop distracting the pilot unless you want an early grave!" Var'un yelled at them.

Spotting the base a few hundred yards away Ay'ur voxed to the guards about their situation. Getting their message the camp's anti-air opened fire on the three harbingers that had been harassing them since the canyon. The three fighters seeing the anti-guns retreated with one being unlucky as it was struck down, watching the spiked fighter crash to the surface Moloch they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Entering the camp Blake and the five pathfinders stepped out of the devilfish relieved they had survived. However before they could relax they saw the camp in disarray as thousands of t'au bustled about loading crates and other supplies onto flyers.

"What's going on?" Blake asked, confused. Grabbing one of the t'au at work Var'un asked them just what the hell was going on. Of course the faunas could not understand them as they spoke in T'au and she didn't but from the way the fire-warrior acted something told Blake things had gone fubar and whatever plan Farsight had attempted failed.

Before the sergeant could relay his findings to her and the rest of the pathfinders, klaxons across the camp began blaring, causing the many t'au at work to drop whatever they were doing as they began rushing to the nearest flyer or vehicle they could see.

A voice then began speaking to them which Blake couldn't understand still since once more she still couldn't speak T'au, it sucks being the only faunas here, she thought. Before she could ask any further questions Blake watched in both awe and horror at what appeared to be meteors streak through the sky towards the camp. Not being the only one who saw the so called "meteors", t'au anti-air guns began unloading into the careening projectiles. Destroying only a few, the first of the strange projectiles hit the base with a massive shock wave of force that launched a cloud of dust into the air. As the dust dissipated Blake's eyes widened upon seeing what she believed was a meteor instead was in fact a large metal container.

It was massive in size and clearly man made its design similar to the Harbingers that had chased them earlier with it looking a bit egg shaped, wait is that a drop pod!? As it dawned on the faunas just what these things were, the contraptions opened their ramps…

Giants in baroque black and gold armor emerged carrying massive blocky rifles. It was the Gue'ron'sha, the Space marines!

"Marauders of Abbadon! Despoil!" One of their numbers bellowed as they began opening fire on the t'au. To Blake's horror, each successful hit with their rifles turned an unfortunate t'au into a mush of blood and bones with the ensuing pandemonium only getting worse as more and more of the drop pods fell into the camp.

Taking cover Blake managed to fire a few pot-shots, only to see her bullets with Gambol Shroud do little to nothing against the armored giants. Turning her head she watched as one of the marines strode over to an unlucky fire-warrior that was attempting to drag themselves to safety. Unlike the ones in black and gold this one's twisted armor was painted in a riot of colors with a helmet that was a horrifying combination between a gimp mask and a speaker.

"Such pain and misery!" the Space Marine spoke with delight in its voice as it stood above the t'au. "How exquisite."

Turning on its back the fire-warrior tried to fire their weapon, but the monster kicked the gun aside and put its massive leg on the t'au's torso.

"Your silence offends the Dark Prince, alien," the giant spoke as he pressed his foot down causing the t'au to begin screaming in anguish. "SO SCREAM LOUDER!" it laughed with perverted pleasure.

"Stop it!" Blake screamed to the marine firing her pistol in vain at it, with her only managing to get its attention. Turning its head to the faunas, Blake found herself overcome with a single feeling in that moment.

Dread.

"A new toy, good. I was already growing bored with this one," the monster said, and with a sickening crunch, it pressed its foot down on the t'au. "I wonder how you will scream..."

Lunging forward at her, its long blade aimed at her neck, she instinctively jumped back, but the giant was quickly upon her.

How is this thing so quick in that armor?! She briefly thought as she tried to parry its blow. Her blade meeting the giant's sword Gambol Shroud shattered upon impact.

"Oh how sad it seems I broke your sword," it purred with mockery. Shocked, Blake found herself barely dodging the giant's next attack with her being slightly grazed on the leg by its sword. Despite being protected by her aura the faunas felt it still take a massive hit as her flesh burned from where the monster had tried to strike her.

"My my aren't you a quick one?" it said. "But not quick enough." Springing his arm to grab at her, the giant was only to grab at a shadow clone which quickly disappeared in its hands.

"Oh-hoho! A witch! Even better!"

Turning to Blake as she tried to pounce at it with the remains of her weapon, the monster with childish ease side-stepped out her way before swinging its blade down towards her. Once more barely dodging out of its attack the giant began to laugh maniacally.

"Come witch, let's dance a little more! To our hearts content!" he cackled as it began swinging its blade haphazardly to strike her down. With each new strike she dodged, Blake found herself growing weaker and weaker as her aura was being put under massive pressure. She could not continue on like this much longer and this thing knew it too.

"Blake, get down!" Xira'gos yelled, looking over to where her teammate stood she found the pathfinder alongside eleven other fire-warriors armed with pulse-rifles in a firing line. Wasting no time the faunas jumped out of their way.

Before the ceramite-clad monster could react to anything, two squads worth of t'au pulse-rifles opened fire, tearing his left arm and half of his helmet off, revealing that, much to Blake's horror, the monster was actually a human.

"Xenos filth! You dare ruin my per…" Before he could finish his sentence another salvo finished him off.

"They're human…" Blake uttered, feeling sick in her stomach as she stared at the corpse of the monster which tried to kill her just moments ago.

Frozen in place by the revelation she would be brought back to reality when Xira'gos tapped her shoulder causing the faunas to jerk in response before realizing it was the cocky fire-warrior.

"We're leaving, the Commander has ordered a retreat!" he yelled over the fire of pulse-shots and whatever the marines used.

"Where?" she asked, flabbergasted. Where else was there to go on this hell-hole of a planet?

"The Great Star Dais," Xira'gos said, "I think he's going to release the Molochites."

"Isn't that a really bad idea?" she asked, having heard tales of the vicious natives of Arthas Moloch the Commander had encountered when he originally came to the planet.

"It's not like we have much of a choice," he shrugged.

Looking around the camp Blake found he was right, despite having recovered from the initial shock of the attack and mounting their own counterattack against the Gue'ron'sha the T'au were still at a disadvantage. Looking up into the sky her fears were all but confirmed as she noticed that far more of the drop-pods had begun to fall on the planet like an iron rain.

There are more of them coming. She thought with a fearful shudder going down her spine as the firefight in the camp intensified as the t'au tried at heavy cost to push back the baroque monsters.

The two then heard a howl, turning their heads; the two were greeted by what looked like an Atlesian paladin but twisted and covered in spikes with what looked like a giant wolf skull for a head. Screeching into the night like it was alive the twisted machine turned its red eyes towards them before charging the pair. Before the mech could pounce on them a red blur zoomed by the two as the abomination was bisected by its waist falling over. Turning to their savior they were greeted by a red painted crisis suit (as the t'au liked to call their mechs) in its right hand was a massive sword that looked not of t'au design and with him holding a round shield with the Enclave's insignia painted on his left.

"We meet again Blake Belladonna," the pilot said to them, his voice distorted by the mech's voxmitter with it taking a second for Blake to recognize the voice.

"Farsight?"

"That's Commander to you."

"Right, sorry," she apologized.

"Enough," the Commander said, "find your squad and leave the camp your shas-ui will have the coordinates for the Dais," he told them before turning around gazing at the burning camp. Blake saw his sword hand shaking in fury as he watched the spiked giants slaughter his men. Farsight was furious.

"Commander, what about you?" Xira'gos asked.

Farsight turned to them. "I'm going to make these bastards hurt, now go warriors, that's an order!" he growled. "I and the remainder of the Eight shall hold them off as long as we can!" Zooming off to slaughter the spiked reavers, the Commander disappeared into the burning camp.

Looking at Gambol Shroud's shattered blade Blake realized she would need a new weapon if she encountered any more of those things. Turning her head to the corpse of the giant—human thing Blake walked over to its body. Prying the sword from its grip the faunas found the blade slightly heavier than she expected with it clearly not being made for someone of her size. Pressing the button on the side of the weapon Blake watched in curiosity as the blade glowed with power.

"Blake hurry!" Xira'gos yelled off into the distance. Satisfied she had figured out the strange mechanics of how the sword worked Blake strapped the massive blade to her back and raced to join the rest of her squad in the Orca. Making it to the flyer at the last minute the faunas buckled herself in as the ramp closed. Feeling the ship lift off Blake contemplated the monster she had just fought and nearly died to. That thing was human… But something was wrong. It was tainted by something, something evil. Something far more sinister than even the Grimm, it unsettled the huntsmen. Her train of thought however would be interrupted when she and the rest of the occupants of the dropship heard a loud metallic roar. Feeling the orca shake, the ship began to lose altitude rapidly before crashing back down violently onto the surface of Arthas Moloch.

Chapter Text

After surviving their first mission Yang and Fredrich had gone through dozens of teammates in the past two months becoming veterans just by virtue of staying alive for so long. This unfortunately caught the attention of one Interrogator Iven Rannick, the head honcho of Inquisitor Gendryl's little warband on the Mourningstar and an overall ass of a man. Having seen their value Rannick, the prick he was, decided to start sending her and Fredrich on Auric missions as they were called, deeper into heretic territory with him having assigned them two other veterans to their kill-team, dubbing them kill-team Scorpio, or Scorpio for short.

Comparing team Scorpio to team RWBY would be laughable if not an insult. Not because Scorpio wasn't skilled, quite the opposite in fact. They were leagues ahead of team RWBY when it came to tactics, if they had their skillset Yang would've guessed their cross-country road trip across Anima would've been a breeze. No, the problem lied with the sanity of her teammates or lack thereof.

To start off there was Fredrich of course, he was the closest thing she had to a friend since arriving in the Imperium. With him being quite helpful in teaching her how to shield her mind from prying eyes and other useful skills when it came to usage of the warp and its dangers. In saying that the man was the textbook definition of a smart ass that bordered on having a god complex, believing himself superior above all others, or as he liked to call them, "the blunts". He was also a psyker which by itself was already a red flag even if she were one too. Sometimes on mission she would catch him talking to himself about the most mundane things as if there was someone else there with them. In saying that Yang found Fredrich to be the most sane of the psykers on the Mourningstar after her.

After Fredrich there was Thane, the Cadian or "cutthroat" as she began to nickname him behind his back. Thane had seen it all. From the fall of his homeworld, Cadia, to the revival of "Rowboat Girlymann" (or whatever the fuck his name was. All she knew was that whoever he was he had a stupid name). From far off Macragge to the throneworld of Terra and the onset of the Indomitus Crusade Thane had fought. She didn't know the significance of half of that and she had no interest in learning. But from the way it had been told to her it meant Thane was one tough SOB to kill if he had survived all of that. Shame he was so erratic and out of his gods damned mind all the time. Yang had thought Ironwood was paranoid before his death, but Thane's paranoia bordered on the insane. During missions he would randomly go on rants on how "they" were out to get him. Whoever the hell "they" were. Every time one of them asked about who "they" were Thane would give a new answer ranging from traitors, heretics, mutants to psykers. So paranoid was Thane that he had booby trapped his bunk to the point where waking him up was basically playing Vacaun roulette with your life.

The final member of their team was Clovis or "sarge" having been a sergeant in the Mordian Iron Guard before being press ganged into service for the Inquisition (Apparently he was here for cowardice). He was the closest thing to a leader in Scorpio with everybody on the team deferring to his command during missions. A massive snob that made even the most pompous of Atlesian society look like uncivilized peasants he made it his duty to have her and the rest of Scorpio keep their uniforms as spiffy to a point that it came across as pathological. Despite his dour and clear disdain for them Yang actually kinda liked the Mordian. He was straight to the point and never gave up, that was something she could respect. It made her wonder at times if he was some sort of android or something. The man knew no fear, Yang mused that if Clovis was dropped in the middle of the Emerald Forest on Remnant the Grimm would run in terror at the man. In short the Mordian was not to be trifled with unless you wished for a slow and painful death.

Currently sitting in a bar on the Mourningstar Yang and the rest of Scorpio found themselves partaking in their most difficult task since being drafted into the Inquisition. What was this grueling task you may ask? Waiting for Thane to finish his damn turn in tarot. Staring at the shock-trooper who had not made a single move in the last ten minutes Yang ground her teeth in annoyance with the sentiment being shared by her fellow players. Fredrich, who out of boredom had begun twirling a small psychic crystal in his hands while Clovis polished his gun for the third time. Gripping her hand on some amasec Yang was increasingly growing impatient with Thane as she fought back the urge to smash the bottle on his head.

"Damn it Thane just make a move already!" Yang yelled at the Cadian.

Pulling a card from his deck Yang and the rest of Scorpio's face's lit up as he finally appeared to make a move before their souls were crushed by disappointment when the guardsmen decided to put it back into his deck at the last minute causing Fredrich to slam his head against the table while Yang raised her bottle ready to put the Cadian in the apothecarion for the next week. Before she could do this the vox speaker made an announcement.

"Kill-team Scorpio you are to report to the mission table at once, by orders of Interrogator Rannick."

Looking at each other the four decided to abandon their game and head off to the mission table. Entering the Strategum, Rannick as usual looked at the four with disdain before turning to Sergeant Major Morrow, a veteran of the First War of Armageddon and their handler.

"You four took your time as usual," he said with annoyance clear in his voice.

"Come on boss, we weren't that late besides we were doing important things," Yang replied with a smirk.

"Like what?" the Interrogator asked, deciding to humor the huntsman.

"Uh… stuff…very important stuff that will help the warband fight those Throne damned heretics," she made up on the spot, her acting being terrible, earning a facepalm from Clovis.

"Oh really!" Rannick's face lit up with a fake smile. "Well then operative care to explain to me why I found you and the rest of Scorpio playing tarot while getting drunk in the bar earlier?"

"Well you see, it's uh… the alcohol… it boosts our senses… right guys?" Yang asked, staring back at her teammates, none of them were amused to join in her little charade.

"Well then operative—" the word filled with disgust. "—if that's the case I think you found the edge we need to win this war. How stupid Inquisitor Grendyl was for not employing such a tactic to begin with. Quick, someone get Belisarius Cawl for even he would gawk at your intelligence operative Xiao Long!"

"Really?" Yang asked believing she had actually tricked the Interrogator with her bullshit.

"No."

Seeing her mouth open again Clovis decided to step in and end her little game here and now as he placed a hand over her mouth shutting her up. "Just tell us our mission sir," Clovis said, rubbing his temples.

"Very well, Morrow if you would please." he gestured to the grizzled veteran.

"We received reports from our agents in Tertium that the Moebian 6th have hijacked a maglev and have loaded it with tox-gas and have it aimed like a missile at the Barbican Gate Terminus," he told them. "That be bad enough at the best of times, but our new friends, the Moebian 53rd, are using it as a deployment hub. I don't think I need to explain why this is bad."

Great the Moebian 6th, she moaned in her head. While the Cult of Admonition (or Admonition for short), the cultists Yang had first fought, were no pushovers; she'd rather face those smelly hobos than the Moebian 6th. Where Admonition used ramshackled weapons that looked like they were held together with duct tape and tactics that consisted of throwing as many bodies at the problem they could, the Moebian 6th was the opposite. Ex-Imperial Guard she learned from another operative, they were veterans of the so-called Fringe War, once considered the best of the best in the entire Moebian Domain.

It was a shame that when the Lord Margrave brought them back from the front to deal with the little insurrection problem he was having on Atoma they decided to ally with Admonition and begin worshiping their twisted god, Nurgle as they liked to go on about when they fought the bastards. If it weren't for them she probably would not have been sent to this shithole. Then again after having learned of the "Book of Judgement" from Fredrich she wondered if fighting insane cultists was the better option then spending the rest of her life in a cell while some whig-head tried figuring out what the fuck was legal or illegal in that dumpster fire of a book. By the brothers, does the Imperium suck! She mulled while Rannick explained the finer details of their mission.

"So where is this train stationed currently?" Thane asked during the briefing.

Rannick laughed. "The train is already on the move," Morrow replied.

"Then how are we supposed to stop it if it's already en-route?" Yang asked, perplexed already knowing she wasn't going to like the answer.

"By Valkyrie of course," Rannick answered.

Yang's face turned pale. "Let me get this straight," she began, "you want us to jump on a moving train that is bro- throne knows how fast while heretics are firing at us?" she said. "I can't be the only one who thinks that is batshit insane am I?"

The Stratagem went quiet as everyone turned their heads to her.

Rannick looked at her darkly. "Operative if you do not wish to participate in this mission do let me know. Hadron could always use another servitor or two."

Yang flinched before clearing her throat. "Apologies, sir, I spoke out of turn."

Rannick looked at her for a hard second.

"Is there anything else we should know before we're deployed, sir?" Clovis asked, breaking the tension.

"I believe that's it, right Rannick?" Morrow asked the Interrogator.

"You are correct, you have your mission I expect results, now get the hells out of my sight Scorpio your presence is starting to annoy me."

"Asshole," Yang whispered as they walked out of the room for their mission.

"What was that operative Xiao Long?"

"Nothing sir!" she quickly answered.

Sitting in the Valkyrie in silence as they traveled deeper into the hive the four did their last weapon's checks. With her precious Ember Cecelia having been confiscated by the Enforcers upon her arrival in the Imperium she had been forced to replace her huntsman weapon with a kantrael shotgun. And while it was clunky and unwieldy for her especially given her usual fighting style it was better than nothing. Loading the last shell into the chamber as they approached the maglev, Yang couldn't help but feel a bit of dread at their mission.

The last two trains she had been on in recent years had ended in derailments. She was not looking to be in a third train crash. Looking over to the rest of her team she found her teammates occupying themselves in different ways with Thane deep in prayer, Fredrich in meditation, and Clovis reciting some litany he did before missions.

"I am a son of Mordian," he whispered just loud enough for them to hear, "born in darkness, I fear no shadow, not even in death."

Must be some cultural thing, she thought. Feeling the Valkyrie stabilize Yang and the rest of Scorpio got up from their seats as the lumens of the aircraft turned green. Jumping out onto the train the four rejects scanned their surroundings for targets.

"Looks clear so far," Clovis said, lowering his lasgun.

"Must you jinx us?" Fredrich asked as he did his own scan.

Moving to the next boxcar Thane raised his left hand stopping them in their tracks.

"Scabs up ahead," he told them.

"What are we looking at Frosk?" Clovis asked.

The Cadian peaked his head around the corner. "By the looks of it five Gunners, three Ragers, a Shotgunner, ten shooters, and a cherub in a pear tree."

"Alright let's smash their heads," Yang replied gleefully, punching her bionic fist in her palm.

Clovis grabbed her by the shoulder. "Hold on trooper," he said, "we have the element of surprise, let's keep it as long as possible." Yang frowned. "Calpernia," the Mordian called to Fredrich, "it's time to be useful for once."

Fredrich looked at Clovis with a look of annoyance.

"Your lack of appreciation offends me blunt," he said to him, "pray to your Carrion Lord that I don't put a knife to your back one of these days Nighter."

"Yah, yah, witch now would you please kill those bloody heretics? Is that better?"

The psyker sighed before summoning his force shards. Throwing the psychic crystals with the slight flick of his fingers the scabs dropped dead in a matter of seconds.

Walking into the cleared area Yang whistled, impressed by the psyker's prowess at mass murder.

"Have I mentioned just how cool that little trick of yours is Fred?" she said.

"Yes, multiple times in fact," he replied in annoyance.

"Pray he doesn't use it against us," Thane muttered with disgust.

Fredrich chuckled. "Then don't give me a reason Cadian and all shall be fine."

"Was that a threat witch?" Thane asked, pointing his plasma gun at the mouthy psyker.

"Depends…" Fredrich smirked.

Due to one of main mantras of the Imperium being "purge the witch" psykers were either heavily distrusted or outright hated by the general populace. Combine societal bigotry with extreme paranoia and it was a miracle Thane or Fredrich had not killed each other in the time they had been assigned together on Scorpio. With Yang unable to recall any interactions between the two that didn't end in them threatening each other's lives.

"Ok that's enough, both of you!" Clovis furrowed at the two. "You two can kill each other after we stop this train."

Staring at the psyker for a long minute, Thane eventually lowered his plasma-gun, much to everyone's relief while rats loudly scrambled around the barrels.

"Let's get going, shall..." Suddenly, Thane turned to her and fired once, right beside her ear.

"What the heck are you doing!?" Both she and Clovis yelled while Fredrich lowered the Cadian's gun.

"Someone was watching us," he bluntly stated, with Yang letting out an annoyed groan.

"Again with this..." But before she could finish they heard a pained groan behind and quickly turned around, just in time to see a traitorous guardsman walk out with a gaping hole in his chest.

They watched in silence as he fell face first on the floor.

"I suppose even a broken chrono is right twice a day!" Friedrich snickered.

Moving towards where the tox-bomb lay Clovis took out a device from his pocket. It was a skull with four robotic spider limbs and red glowing eyes, a data-interrogator as it was called. Placing it on the cogitator, the servo-skull clamped down to the interface while Clovis pulled out an auspex and began hacking the detonation device. Watching the Mordian hack the bomb's systems Yang felt herself grow more and more anxious.

"Can that thing go any faster?" she asked.

"No, now shut it," Clovis said, "I need to concentrate."

After a few minutes of waiting the Mordian completed the hacking.

"That was easier than I expected," Thane said as they began making their way to the next car.

"Don't expect it to be after this," Clovis commented, "If they didn't know we were here they do now."

"Great," Yang lamented. As if on cue, klaxons began blaring across the maglev.

"We have intruders, brothers and sisters!" a sickly voice yelled into the vox. "They wish to stop us from spreading the Grandfather's gifts! Stop them!"

"This way move it!" Thane bellowed to a doorway. Following the shock-trooper the three began making their way to the next train car. Running through the maglev the four were stopped by a mob of scabs, their weapons trained on them.

"Loyalist sighted!" One of the scabs yelled. "Call in the reinforcements!" Without hesitation, one of the scabs tried to draw a flare gun from his belt, but his hand was shot clean off.

"For Mordian!" Clovis yelled and continued firing on the scabs.

Charging into the horde with her shotgun the huntsmen blew three traitor guardsmen into minced meat with a single blast, pumping its barrel she felt the hair on the back of her head tingle.

"Die insect!" turning around Yang dodged a chainaxe swinging down on her skull. Looking up to see who her attacker was she was greeted by a huge cultist in ramshackled armor, a Mauler.

"That's no way to treat a woman," she remarked to the insane man. The Mauler growled.

"I'll take your head!" he bellowed before swinging his chainaxe once more at her.

"Keep swinging at me like that and you'll never get me," she snarked dodging another blow only infuriating the mauler further.

"Damn it Xiao Long stop playing with the damn heretic and kill the tin-headed bastard!" Clovis shouted behind cover as he reloaded his lasgun.

Kicking the cultist in his groin the goliath let out a grunt of pain as he keeled over. The huntress then pushed her shotgun under the heretic's mouth and pumped a shell into his head. Falling over Yang smiled to herself.

"Behind you!" Thane yelled. Turning around Yang was greeted by a Crusher swinging at her with his hammer. Before it could slam down a blue bolt flashed by her eyes leaving a large hole in the ogryn's chest. Grasping at where his heart should have been the massive abhuman collapsed dead.

"Thanks for the save," Yang said looking at the Crusher's corpse. Thane rolled his eyes behind his rebreather.

"Next time do it yourself," he said pointedly before venting his plasma-gun. A little kindness wouldn't hurt would it?!

+You expect too much from that roughneck's humors,+ Fredrich spoke in her mind as he thrusted his force sword through a Gunner's chest.

Still, Yang began charging a group of shooters with her shotgun, it wouldn't kill him to be a bit kinder, she thought as she smacked a scab in the head before a grenade rolled to her feet. Picking up the explosive she threw it back in the direction it came from watching as the unfortunate cultists who threw it try to run before it went off.

+He's a nihilist he believes everyone is out to get him,+ Fredrich replied as the grenade went off.

And what does that make you? Yang asked sarcastically.

+A pessimist.+

Just when they dealt with the last remaining scab, they heard a large group of enemies rapidly approaching, drawn to them by the gunfire.

"Inside, quick!" Clovis commanded with Fredrich and Yang quickly following behind while Thane tossed two frag-grenades behind to slow down the pursuing cultists.

When the four operatives were inside the train car, Clovis shut the door behind them and Yang smashed its controls with her fists, frying the circuitry.

"That should hold them off for a bit," she said.

This time it was Thane's turn to defuse, going over to the controls the Cadian took out his data-interrogator and began hacking the cogitator.

"So how long do you reckon it will take before they break in?" Yang asked her teammates.

As if fate didn't hate her enough the door began glowing as she presumed they began cutting at it with some form of welding device.

"I think that should answer your query," the sassy psyker replied.

"Would it kill you not to be a smart ass," she snapped at him.

"Only if you stop making those terrible puns."

"My puns are great, I don't know what you're talking about."

"God Emperor save me from this lot of idiots," Clovis muttered under his breath before turning to his two squabbling teammates. "Would you two stop your yapping?!" he yelled at them. "We are about to be swarmed by a small army of insane cultists and you two are arguing about who is more annoying!"

"The answer is both!" Thane remarked from the terminal.

"Shut your frakkin' mouth Frosk and get back to work!" the sharpshooter yelled to the Cadian before rubbing his temples. "Point is," he hissed, "settle it after the mission."

They looked at each other knowing the Mordian was right. "Aye sir," they both replied before readying their weapons.

The door then fell down however instead of a small army of scabs rushing them no one came causing the three to look at each other confused as to why they had stopped. A grenade then rolled into the room causing Clovis's eyes to widen.

"Tox-grenade!" he yelled.

Going off as he yelled his warning to them the room was enveloped in a thick green mist.

"Covering fire! Pox, Fever squads - engage!" a scab yelled as they began moving into the room lighting up the boxcar with las-bolts. Choking on the gas Yang scrambled to the rebreather she kept on her belt and with struggle put it on her face, and when she did so, her aura took a lasbolt hit.

"These guys are driving me nuts!" Yang angrily kicked one of the boxes right at the approaching cultists, catching them off guard, demolishing their formation and crushing two scabs against the wall, which was enough for Scorpio to regain the advantage.

Wading through the mist the three rejects fired at the scabs, decimating their numbers, their ruthlessness and precision too much for the scabs to deal with.

"Release the abomination!" One of the scabs bellowed to his comrades before his head was blown away by Yang's shotgun, her breath heavy.

That's when they began hearing muffled screaming.

"Ah shit," Yang whispered.

"Mutant!" Clovis bellowed as the muscled berserker ran into the boxcar charging at them. Slamming into Yang like a brick the overgrown roid head slammed the huntress into a nearby wall as it began pummeling her with its fists.

"Someone get this thing off of me!" she yelled as she blocked the thing's hits.

"A little busy!" Clovis yelled as he ducked for cover as a group of shooters began peppering his position.

Using her aura to try and get the upper hand she found the mutant was too strong feeling her aura drain by the thing's repeated hits Yang decided to use her semblance. But before she could the Mutant's head popped like watermelon splattering the huntsman's face in brain matter.

"Damn it Fred!" she yelled as she pushed the corpse of the mutant off of her. "Why did you pop its head!"

Fredrich scoffed. "It was the only way to save you from that brute," he said, not seeing the problem.

"The only way my ass!" she replied. Checking her hair Yang growled as she found it covered in brain matter. Turning her head to the scabs attacking them Yang grabbed her shotgun and began making her way to them gunfire be damned.

"What the hells are you doing soldier?!" Clovis bellowed to her still behind cover.

The huntress turned to the Mordian, her eyes a violent crimson red causing his already pale complexion to become even paler.

"I'm going to show them what happens when you fuck with Yang Xiao Long," she said with a cold rage. "Got a problem with that Nighter?"

Clovis merely backed away from the ballistic huntress before turning to Fredrich. "Were her eyes always red?" he asked him. "I could have sworn she was Cadian."

"Perhaps a figment of your mind," the psyker lied knowing full well what Yang's change in eye color meant, a bad day for whoever was on the receiving end. Watching in both awe and horror the two operatives watched as Yang meticulously tore through the traitor guard soldiers. It almost made them almost pity the heretics on what they unleashed. Finishing up the hacking Thane picked up his plasma gun.

"You're gonna have to realign that cradle," Morrow spoke into his vox. Grunting with annoyance the Cadian walked over where his two teammates stood slack jawed.

"Oi what's wrong with you two?" he asked.

Clovis merely pointed a finger to the carnage in front of them, turning his head, Thane whistled beneath his rebreather.

"By the Nine Devils did Xiao Long do all that?" he asked in surprise. Neither responded. Finishing off the last of the shooters Yang's eyes returned to their usual purple as her usual calm sunny disposition returned.

"Much better," she said as if nothing had happened. Making her way to the next train-car she found the rest of Scorpio still where they stood.

"Guys," she said, "are we going to stop this train or what?" she asked.

Clovis slowly turned his head to her. "Uh, yeah," he said finally. "Just give us a moment."

Moving to the boxcar where the loading mechanism was housed the four were greeted by a massive ring of giant tubes with green liquid in them, the tox-bombs she presumed. Going to the switches Fredrich found them without power.

"We need power," he said.

"Right then," Clovis began, "Xiao Long, Frosk go grab some conduits."

Yang and Thane shook their heads in acknowledgment. Splitting up, Yang began searching the boxcars for any power sources. Now if I were a tech-priest what would I make a power source look like? Her eyes then fell to a large blue glowing cylinder in one of the medicae stations. Bingo!

Walking over to where the servitor was Yang began prying the fuel source loose with it coming out after a few seconds of applying some elbow grease (and little aura). Closing up as it no longer had power Yang could swear she could hear the servitor screaming for help. Man those things are creepy as hell.

Lugging the power source on her shoulders Yang returned to the control panel where Scorpio stood. Inserting the power source the four rejects watched as the loading mechanism lit up and began cycling up. Forming a path for them to walk through Yang and Scorpio moved further up into the maglev.

"Storm Serpent to Scorpio. Enemy aircraft inbound disengaging," the pilot told them over the vox.

"Perfect," Clovis groaned before readying his lasgun with Yang and the rest doing the same. Moving up to the next boxcar Yang spotted the last tox-bomb, scanning for any further hostiles they found little in terms of obstacles.

Motioning with his hand to engage Yang and the rest of Scorpio attacked the last remaining scabs aboard the maglev. Quickly dispatching them Fredrich grabbed his data-interrogator and began working on defusing the last bomb. After a few minutes the psyker had completed his work Yang couldn't help but smile. Maybe their luck was starting to turn up.

Her happiness would quickly be squashed when a Valkyrie showed up over them, and it wasn't one of theirs. Its ramp opening up a mustard robed figure jumped out to greet them. Carrying a massive power maul in his hands and wearing ramshackled armor over his body the little of his skin that showed was ridden with boils with it having sickly green hue to it, it was cultist champion. It seemed the Moebian 6th had called in a favor from their pals in Admonition.

"So far from your false Emperor. Where is his protection now?" the champion mocked, his voice raspy and filled with phlegm. Charging them Yang dodged a strike from the champion's power maul. Denting the metal where it struck Yang made a note to herself to not get hit by it. Sending an overcharged bolt of plasma at the cultist Thane growled in frustration as he found his shot hit a yellow force-field.

"Damn bastard has a refractor," he hissed as his plasma-gun vented.

"How do we pop it?" Yang asked as she unloaded an entire magazine's worth of shells into the champion who soaked them up as if they were nothing.

"We keep shooting," Clovis said as he fired his lasgun at the champion's shields. Resisting the urge to use her semblance to end the fight here and now Yang opted not to, as tempting as it may have been. She had no wish to be experimented by the Inquisition nor be sent to the Black Ships if she could help it.

Shooting a ball of bio-lightning from his fingers, Fredrich stunned the champion, allowing the rest of Scorpio to lay into the cultist. Watching his shield go from yellow to red the refractor finally overloaded and popped.

"Filthy witch!" the cultist bellowed in rage. "The Grandfather shall make you suffer!"

Swinging his power maul at Fredrich the psyker brought up a force-shield but the power weapon was too powerful slamming into his chest.

"Fred!" she yelled as she watched him get launched across the boxcar with him hitting the ground hard.

Seeing her only friend get hurt, Yang finally snapped. Turning her head to the champion Yang's eyes had become red before her hair became alight with fire. Bodying the cultist Yang began laying into the heretic with her fists. Hit after hit she punched the cultist for what must've been an eternity before her trance was broken by Clovis placing a hand on her shoulder.

"That's enough Xiao-Long damn it! Snap out of it!"

Snapping her fist to him she realized who it was causing her eyes to turn back to normal. Looking down at her hands she found them soaked in blood turning back to the cultist champion; she found his head was a wet mess of flesh and bone. Shit did I do that? She thought before remembering Fredrich. Getting to her feet the huntress ran to where the psyker had landed.

Finding him laying on a crate as he gripped his chest it didn't take a genius to see how bad it was.

"Damn heretic," he hissed in pain before coughing up blood.

"You'll be fine Fred, just stay with us we'll get you back to the Mourningstar and everything will be fine," she tried to assure him.

Fredrich laughed bitterly. "Stupid girl, look at me." The psyker gestured. "I'll be lucky if I survive the next five minutes."

"No!" she yelled in tears, slamming her fist in anger into the floor denting it. "I won't let you die here. You can't, you're the only person I have in this hell!" she lamented.

Fredrich grabbed her hand pulling her towards his face. "Listen to yourself girl," he said with some struggle. "I am a nobody, a pathetic excuse of a man I am not worthy to mourn over!" he said. "Save your tears and heartache for your friends, for your sister for Throne's sake NOT ME!"

Fredrich coughed up more blood. "Besides unless you know a way to mend broken bones and internal bleeding in the next few minutes there's not much left you can do."

Yang stood there in silence. She couldn't let Fredrich die. As much as she disliked his attitude the arrogant psyker was her only friend in this hellhole of a galaxy. They had been through too much, seen too much, it couldn't just end here! Not like this! There has to be some way, she thought. Thinking hard Yang remembered one of her first lessons at Signal when she was young.

"'A shield made from the soul,'" she whispered as an idea popped into her head. "Actually I may do," she then told the psyker with a smile.

Fredrich looked at her confused, before he could question her though Yang placed a hand over his forehead. "For it is in sorrow that we achieve happiness. Through this, we become a paragon of bliss and rapture to rise above those who aren't. Infinite in determination and unbound by wounds, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, embrace thee."

A light teal aura shield then flashed briefly around Fredrich's body before fading out as the psyker's coughing stopped. Slowly his breathing returned to normal.

"Stupid girl," he said with a smile before falling unconscious. Feeling the train come to a stop she felt Thane and Clovis walk up from behind her.

"Come on," Clovis said grimly, "the mission is done, whatever you did saved his life let's take him back to the Mourningstar."

Wiping her tears Yang picked up Fredrich in her hands and got up walking to where the Valkyrie was waiting for them the three rejects stepped up the ramps and got seated. Feeling the aircraft take off, all Yang could think on the journey back up the grav-well was how close she had come to losing her friend. That could not happen again, it wouldn't.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

>> Segmentum: [REDACTED]

>> Sector: [REDACTED]

>> System: [REDACTED]

>> Location: Inquisitorial Holding Complex F38218

Coteaz stood in the ruined hall of the Astropathic choir, his eyes staring at the scene before him. Around the Inquisitor were the corpses of the astropaths trusted to keep the facility in contact with the greater Imperium, their bodies now mutilated and frozen. The Lord Inquisitor sighed, yet more dead in this already dark era. He was getting too old for this all, if only he could retire. Yet the Emperor's work never ended so long as one of the Archenemy remained breathing. The dragon never sleeps, he mused. Looking over to the Grey Knight who was responsible for the distress call Coteaz walked over to his corpse and kneeled down to the dead Astartes. Reading the purity seals on his armor he found the name of the space marine: Abron Genesis. Rest, your duty is done, silently reciting a litany as he prayed that this hero of the Imperium found his way to His domain in the warp.

"Have all the cells been checked?" he asked, turning his head to a member of his retinue.

"Yes my lord," the adept replied, "Only prisoner IK91516 cell is empty, the rest are still occupied, a few of the mortal prisoners are dead however."

"Clean the cells of the dead and send a message to the nearest Ordo Malleus base. This prison will need to be cleaned, purged, and restaffed."

"Yes my lord," the adept said before walking off.

"It is as the Justicar said the Kingbreaker has escaped," Coteaz sighed his voice low, "May the Emperor guide us if that monster is free once more."

Learning of the message months ago it was a mere fluke that they had received it let alone Corteaz was the first one to get his hands on the message. If he hadn't he was sure bureaucracy would've buried the distress call and it wouldn't have seen the light of day. Said fluke however was the detestable aeldari. The enigmatic xenos had arrived to Coteaz bearing a message of great importance, giving him the transcript of the distress call the Inquisitor found himself stunned. Alongside the escape of the Kingbreaker the aeldari had also brought another warning and in typical aeldari fashion it was vague in its meaning, frustrating him. However one thing clear in it was that the escape of Iskandar Khayon and this new grave threat the aeldari spoke of were connected. Having sent out his agents across the galaxy after the aeldari left Corteaz found himself begrudgingly agreeing with the vile aliens.

Across the Imperium and beyond massive chaos war fleets were striking out at the galaxy, led by retrofitted Space Hulks known as Arks of Omen. Not only that but whispers had begun to spread of a being known only as the Arkifane. Upon searching the archives the only references he found of the Arkifane were scant reports of machines turning against their masters twisting and changing into depraved forms. In these reports a single line was repeated throughout "daemon ex machina", or in Low Gothic dialects, "daemon in the machine".

The Despoiler seemed to have made an alliance and with it his next move in his game of regicide of galactic dominance. Looking over the information he had received where these Arks of Omen had been spotted entering real-space Coteaz had noticed something interesting. They seemed to be hunting something. Whatever the Despoiler was hunting was never good, Cadia in recent years had shown the consequences of thinking the Despoiler as a mindless brute with no foresight. The Imperium could not afford another repeat of that.

Coteaz's thoughts would be interrupted by a member of his retinue running into the chamber. Standing back up the Inquisitor found the adept gasping for air, clearly something important had happened.

"My lord," the adept said in between breaths, "one of our agents in Imperium Nihilus has reported back to us," he told him.

"What news does he bring beyond the Rift?" Coteaz asked.

"The Dark Angels my lord," he said, "they and their successors are mustering in the Somnium Stars!"

Coteaz raised an eyebrow, how interesting. The Dark Angels were a fascinating bunch within the Adeptus Astartes. Despite their status as a First Founding chapter many within the Inquisition of all the ordos found them quite suspicious. With many attempts being made over the millennia to investigate the chapter. Most of these attempts resulted in an Inquisitor mysteriously disappearing.

For that reason Coteaz did not trust the sons of the Lion. In saying that he was not foolish enough to dare challenge them, he had read what little accounts of the Great Crusade remained and if a modicum of what the records said was true the Emperor's final solution were not to be trifled with lest one was suicidal. The Lord Inquisitor was not. While it was clear the chapter and their successors hid something that they were afraid of the wider Imperium finding out he did have the time nor patience to waste precious Imperial resources on infighting especially with the current chaos caused by the opening of the Cicatrix Maledictum.

Besides, who was he to judge them? Many in the Imperium hid something, the difference was if said secret led down the road of damnation. And from what he gathered whatever the Dark Angels hid it was not that, Coteaz was sure. In saying that an entire Astartes bloodline mobilizing to legion level strength was worrisome for various reasons. What do they know, he thought. Perhaps this was also connected to the emergence of the Bale-Fleets and this Arkifane, all of it was connected. There was no such thing as coincidences; his long career had taught him that.

"Tell the operative to continue their watch over the sons of the Lion. I am most curious what has their brotherhood in a twist," the Lord Inquisitor at last replied to the adept.

"It shall be done, my lord." The adept bowed before making the sign of the aquila and leaving him alone once more.

Throne was the galaxy in turmoil with so much to do and so little time to fix it. Before he could contemplate further he was interrupted again as another adept entered the Astropathic Choir.

"What is it now, adept?" he asked tiredly.

"My lord, it's the Formosa Sector—" the adept began.

Coteaz turned his head, causing the adept to pause.

"Prepare the ship we leave at once," he said sharply as he began making his way to leave the ruined chamber. Throne truly he did not have enough time. Whatever the Despoiler was planning, it had to wait. He had his obligations, his agents would report back to him in good time; he merely had to be patient.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Summoned by Admiral Torrance Derrigan as Avalus' warning system picked up a Chaos fleet at the borders of the system the Lion had them hurried up the gravity well to the Lunar Knight, the flagship of the Avalusian fleet and where the Lion would be directing the system's defense. Arriving at the Lunar Knight alongside the Lion and the Fallen, or "Risen" as Lohoc had decided, finding it a better suited name for their little band of misfits then the "Fallen". While the primarch and his sons worried about the incoming enemy fleet fastly approaching the planet all Ruby could think of at the moment was they were in space for brother's sake! With her feelings not going unnoticed as Zabriel tapped her shoulder.

"The first time is always a wonder I find," he said. "Do not let the void of space distract you huntress Rose, we have heretics to kill."

"Sorry it's just so…wow."

"Come brother let the girl have her fun," Kai said as they walked towards the bridge of the ship. With Zabriel responding with a grunt. Entering the bridge the six were greeted by the admiral who was currently busy studying the composition of the enemy fleet from his tactical hololith.

Noticing their arrival the admiral made the sign of the aquila. "Lord Lion," Derrigan greeted.

"Tell me admiral, just what are we dealing with here?" the Lion asked as he bent down to analyze the battlefield.

"Sixteen capital ships," the admiral responded. "Perhaps two hundred vessels in total—"

"One hundred and eighty-four," the Lion corrected.

"We are outnumbered two to one overall, and three to one at capital level," the admiral said heavily. "Lord Lion, I cannot see a path to victory in this engagement."

"Would you surrender?" the primarch asked, causing the admiral to stare at him with confusion.

"Never, my lord. Quite apart from the shame, better a clean death in battle than to be taken prisoner by these monsters."

"Would you flee, then?"

Ruby saw the fear that radiated off the admiral at the question yet still he stood resolute.

"In times past, perhaps, my lord. Tactical doctrine cautions a senior officer against committing their forces to a battle that cannot be won, if those forces may regroup with other elements and return to exact vengeance. But in these times, the warp is more treacherous than ever for us, while our enemies"— gesturing to the hololith, —"are able to emerge from it in battle order. Were we to flee, we might lose half our strength or more, to no purpose. At least in realspace we only have one enemy to fight."

"So we fight," the Lion said to him. "We fight to defend the planet and the system, and those who live within it. And if our only recourse is to fight, then the likelihood of victory is irrelevant, is it not?"

The admiral frowned before turning to baffled agreement.

"I… suppose so, my lord."

"Vox-officer," the Lion said, his head now turned towards the man he was addressing.

"Y-yes, my lord?" the vox-officer stuttered.

"Broadcast to all the ships in our fleet," the Lord of the First orders. "For full dissemination. I want everyone aboard to hear, not just the bridge crews."

Doing as he ordered the vox-officer worked in his console before looking back at the Lion. "So marked, my lord. The vox is yours."

Taking a deep breath the Lion addressed Avalus. "Defenders of Avalus. I am Lion El'Jonson, primarch of the Dark Angels and son of the Emperor. We face an enemy force intent on destruction— not only of this fleet, and this planet, but whatever remains of the Imperium, and humanity as a whole. I will not deny that the odds appear to be against us in this fight, but as I saw when the people of Camarth rose up and overthrew the invaders who thought they had conquered that world, appearances can be deceiving. The forces arrayed against us are vicious and merciless, but they are often without discipline or structure. They do not fight for each other. Not as we must.

"As individuals, any one of us would fail. If we remember that we are part of something greater, if we refuse to give in to fear and despair, and if we perform our duties swiftly and efficiently, then we can frustrate and infuriate our foes, and force them into mistakes— mistakes for which we will make them pay in blood. I cannot promise you that our struggle will lead to victory, only that our victory will not be achieved without struggle."

Looking to the main viewing port of the Lunar Knight the primarch stared out into the darkness of space with only determination in his eyes.

"But I did not return after ten thousand years to fail in the task I have set myself. I want each and every one of you, from captain to bondsperson, to know that I will give my life in defense of your world, if that is what it takes. However, I do not believe that my father guided me to you simply in order to die. So crew your stations, ready the weapons, and prepare to strike down these traitors and heretics for Avalus, for the Imperium, and for the Emperor Himself!"

For only a moment the bridge of the Lunar Knight was silent. Then:

"THE LION!"

"THE LION!"

"THE LION!"

As the vox erupted with shouts, first only a few dozen before erupting across the entire fleet. Gesturing to the vox-officer the man cut the vox off.

"Do you really think your father really guided you here?" Ruby asked the Lion in a hushed voice.

"Something did," he replied, his voice also low, "and something which I do not believe has malicious intent. I do not think my father a god, as these people do,"—gesturing to the bridge crew as they busied themselves for battle— "but I cannot dispute His power. Did He not maintain the Astronomican for ten thousand years, a beacon for all humanity's travelers, even if it cannot now be seen by us? His mastery of warpcraft is unparalleled by any mortal being. If anyone was able of reaching out and guiding me here, then it is Him."

"Still…it doesn't sit right with me that we have to abuse their religion like this sir," Ruby then voiced. "Even though I agree that your father isn't a god, we are still lying to these people to get what we want here. If these people are going to die for this cause they should at least die knowing the truth."

The Lion sighed. "In different times I would agree but circumstance dictates that we use all the tools at our disposal. Matters of theology can wait." Since arriving at Avalus representatives of the Imperial creed or Ecclesiarchy as it was more commonly known, had been harassing the primarch for a meeting with each time the primarch refusing. With Ruby having no love for the priests either finding them too fanatical for her tastes, especially after an incident where the more zealotic members of the local sect had tried to burn her on a stake for being a witch. Thankfully she had been saved by Lohoc and Kai who were with her at the time.

"And there's my problem," Ruby pointed out. "To you and your sons you see their faith as nothing more than a tool, something to exploit for our own benefits."

"It is better for them to live in ignorance, huntress, it is best that way," the Lion retorted.

Ruby snorted. "That was the excuse Ozpin gave," she hissed in a whisper. What I gave as an excuse.

"You are going to have to deal with the priests at some point," Zabriel jumped in, having listened to their conversation. "The Imperial creed is too powerful to ignore for long."

"One battle at a time, my companions," the Lion said tiredly as he returned his attention to the tactical hololiths drawing up a plan. "One battle at a time."

Deciding to split the fleet into three spheres the Lion made is so that the Lunar Knight would be in the center. With the rest of the fleet having been spread out to defend against the Chaos fleet who were heading straight towards the planet's capital of Xerxe.

"Captain Serena," the Lion said into the vox. "Make your presence known."

Ruby had learned quickly from watching the Lion that void combat was not anything like how it was in the movies back home. With space being so large the nearest ship could be up to a few hundred to even a few thousand miles away. It was a game won by predicting your enemies next moves… and pure luck. Watching from the viewing port as Adamantine Will fired its Nova cannons into the enemy fleet, Ruby looked on in disbelief as the explosion flowered in the distance hundreds of miles away from the Lunar Knight.

Curious about the weapons when she first heard them discussed, Derrigan had explained to the gun obsessed girl how they were basically advanced rail guns that shot projectiles at the speed of light with them being one of the most destructive weapons of mass destruction that the Imperial Navy liked to employ. So powerful was the Nova cannon that only Imperial Cruisers and Battleships were capable of making use of the weapons due to the immense recoil that needed to be compensated when the gun was fired.

"Our enemy has already shown his eagerness to close with us," the Lion remarked. "I do not think he will appreciate his current inability to fight back."

"The enemy fleet is starting to disperse, my lord," Zabriel said to the primarch having been charged by the Lion to command the auspex station. With the other Risen sent to guard against potential boarding actions. As head of the Lion Guard Ruby had chosen to stay on the bridge to guard the Lion and bridge crew. While she did not have any knowledge in void combat let alone using any of the fancy computers the Imperium used she made sure to pay attention quite closely with her, occasionally asking the Admiral a few questions here and there. When she returned to Remnant she was going to make sure she was prepared.

"Adamantine Will, continue firing!" the Lion ordered. "Priority targets. I want as much damage to their largest vessels as possible before we start exchanging in earnest. All other ships, let us corral them— concentrate torpedo fire on these vectors." The Lion then highlighted sections on the holo for the other captains, with Ruby hearing a muffled curse from him, annoyed at the patchy nature that was modern Imperial technology. Feeling the ship shudder as torpedoes streaked out into the void of space, Ruby peaked through the view port seeing them fly past before turning to small dots.

"Fire from the Furious class, reading as Lord of Dominion," Zabriel reported to the Lion as alerts flashed on his cogitater.

"We are surely still too distant!" Admiral Derrigan said, his voice unsure of his statement.

"They appear to be firing at their own ships," Zabriel replied, bewildered by what he was seeing in the sensors.

"Our adversary attempts to restore what he considers to be the correct order of battle through the only means he knows," the Lion said with satisfaction. "To whit, brute force."

"He wants his own ships to fly straight down the throat of our nova cannon?" Derrigan asked incredulously. With even Ruby raising an eyebrow at the enemy's strategy. Just what is their plan?!

"Some factions of our enemy view any attempt to minimize casualties as the most heinous cowardice, worthy of immediate execution," the Lion replied vaguely, "It appears that faction is in command here, which will undoubtedly provide its own challenges, but also its own opportunities."

So a Khornate is in charge of the fleet; she had fought the servants of the Brazen Lord on Camarth and while all the cultists were utterly insane, the ones dedicated to the blood god were the most unreasonable. Their strategy in war consisted of charging at the enemy to get into melee. It made them dangerous in close quarters but easy to outsmart, as their god's blood creed restricted much of their strategic thinking. If it was one of them in charge of this fleet Ruby could breathe a sigh of relief knowing this battle would be a quick victory.

Firing again at the Chaos fleet the first casualties of the battle began to show as ships turned from green to red on the hololith denoting their destruction. She had learned from Kai that Imperial ships employed hundreds, sometimes even thousands of people, with them being floating cities unto themselves. Originally thinking the idea was fascinating, Ruby now frowned at it as the death toll was already in the thousands range when the battle had just barely started.

"Another volley, high and low," the Lion commanded the fleet as he highlighted more sections on the hololith to strike at.

"Enemy are launching fighters," Zabriel announced before frowning. "Or possibly not."

"Give me visual," the Lion ordered, as the hololith flickered in front of him. Looking through the grainy visual of Lunar Knight revealed a swarm of dots pouring out of the traitor ship.

"There," Zabriel said, pointing at a cluster of shapes dropping from the ship's keel. "Where are they coming from?"

"Can we magnify further?" the Lion asked. Doing as he ordered an officer increased the resolution of the image revealing what appeared to be metal…

"Are those dragons?" Ruby asked, having remained silent through the entire battle by that point.

"Beast's blood," the Lion breathed as the primarch took in the image he was seeing, "What manner of monstrosities are they?"

"Daemon engines, riding through the void on the ship's underbellies," Zabriel answered. "I believe the Imperium designates them as Heldrakes."

"Is there nothing in this millennium which is not worse than in the one I left?" the Lion muttered, the abominations shaking the primarch to his core. With Ruby feeling the same. The forces of Chaos were truly imaginative with their horrors; she had to begrudgingly give them credit for that.

"Do they die, at least?"

"I saw one shot down once," Zabriel responded. "That was on a planet coming under attack, rather than ship-to-ship combat, but the Hydra battery accounted for the thing well enough."

Approaching closer more ships flared to red on the hololith as Lunar Knight and its escorts began adding their fire with the fleet. Watching as the void shields of Lunar Knight began to shimmer in a rainbow of colors it took no expert in void combat for Ruby to realize the ship's shields were weakening fast. We can't keep this up for much longer, she thought as the ship shook from another strike.

"All ahead full," the Lion ordered over the vox, as Ruby felt the plasma drives roar to life. Advancing the ship the Lion had caught the enemy fleet off guard, using their own tactics against them as their guns began to overshoot the Lunar Knight.

"All crew, brace!" Admiral Derrigan bellowed.

"Batteries and lance fire at will, dorsal lance concentrate fire to starboard!" the Lion ordered. Their ship was now in the middle of their fleet giving the Lunar Knight the ability to unleash his arsenal on all sides. However the enemy could now do the same, a risky move the Lord of the First had pulled.

"Righteous Wrath reports Starhawk bombers are away!" the vox-officer yelled.

The Lunar Knight shuddered as it opened fire on all sides. Watching from the viewports Ruby found herself mesmerized as the Lunar Knight's guns lit up the two ships it found itself between. Klaxons blaring at the damage the ship was taking Admiral Derrigan had them silenced as he continued barking orders to his men.

"Shields failing!" someone shouted.

"Dive!" the Lion bellowed. Watching the ship to their right lose its shields Ruby grinned a bit. "Roll to port, maintain starboard fire!" the Lion ordered as the vessel took damage. Having seen the ship to their right now undefended three ships from the defense fleet took advantage destroying it and alongside it the other ship on their left which had been weakened in the Lion's gambit.

"There he is," the Lion said, his face a predator's smile as he saw his prey.

Looking through the wreckage in the viewing port, Ruby and the rest of the bridge crew saw their true prize, the Lord of Dominion, its port guns blazing as its captain realized the trap he had fallen for.

"My lord, how could you know the traitor would turn on his own forces?" the admiral demanded.

"You never met Angron, did you?" the Lion murmured only getting blank stares from everybody who had heard him say the name. What is with this galaxy and its name? Ruby thought. Refocusing on the battle the Lion ordered the crew once more.

"Engines to full!" he ordered. However the Lunar Knight was not fast enough.

"Void shields down!" an officer shouted as alarms began blaring across the ship.

A salvo of torpedoes struck the Lunar Knight, shaking the ship to its core, while the machine spirit wailed as the hull it called a skin tore to the void of space. Violently knocked to the ground Ruby felt her aura slowly begin to heal the damage the shockwave had done. Noticing Derrigan had also been knocked down to the ground the huntsman helped the admiral to his feet before passing him a handkerchief to stop his forehead from bleeding.

Nodding in thanks, Derrigan turned back to the battle at hand.

"Engines hit!"

"Hull breaches in sections Delta and Epsilon, decks three and four…"

Looking over to the Lion as chaos unfolded she found the primarch silent as he watched the hololith that now sputtered from the damage.

"Carnage class dead ahead!" Zabriel reported.

"Torpedoes!" the admiral bellowed to his men. "Clear the way!"

Looking over to the holo Ruby's face paled as she more than half of their fleet was red, destroyed by the enemy. So many dead.

"Come about," the Lion ordered. "And target that Carnage class as we do so."

As they engaged Ruby took notice of something odd on the hololith, Xerxe was free for them to invade yet they didn't seem to be making planetfall. The Lion also seemed to notice.

"He cannot ignore our bloodying of his nose. Only our total destruction will satisfy him now. He will seek to kill every ship, and in doing so will allow the star forts to engage his landers piecemeal."

Sure enough the Lion's prediction came true and the traitors learned too slowly their mistake as they had already begun sending landing craft to rain down on Avalus only to be obliterated by Gaugamelas on the planet's surface.

"Prepare remaining torpedoes," the Lion ordered to the remaining ships of the fleet. "Form up on the Lunar Knight, and—"

Zabriel drew his bolt pistols. "Teleport flare from the Lord of Dominion!" he shouted, causing Ruby to pull Crescent Rose from her back, readying the massive scythe for whatever showed up.

"Emergence flare location?" the Lion snapped at Zabriel as he drew Fealty and locked his helmet into place with the other hand.

"Bridge! Now!" the Destroyer yelled, aiming his pistols.

Before them dark shapes shimmered in the middle of the bridge before being replaced by six huge marines in bulky armor the color of red and brass, their armor unlike anything Ruby had seen to that point with their helmets having tusks, and holding a plethora of melee weapons, some more bizarre than others.

"Seraphax can burn! If the Lion's here, I want his head!" their leader yelled. The largest of their number, his size nearly that of a primarch. Ruby saw them wielding chainaxes, lighting claws, and power fists. With their leader wielding a power sword in his right and a chainfist in his left.

"Then come and take it, if you can!" the Lion shouted to the Chaos marine's declaration. Watching the bridge crew scatter from the traitors, Ruby saw the monsters flinch at them as they stifled the urge to pursue the crew and butcher. The Lion decides to make the first shot.

After their arrival at the Moon Palace the marshal had gifted the Lion an ornate plasma pistol, called the Arma Luminis, an ancient weapon that had been left on Avalus for countless millennia with legend stating that it was the Emperor himself who gave the weapon to the native Avalusians. Geeking out when she first saw the weapon Zabriel was forced to restrain her from snatching the weapon away lest the marshal and her guards kill her right there on the spot.

Spitting out a bolt of plasma towards the Chaos lord, the Lion found his shot absorbed by the heretic's armor as a blood sigil on the warrior's chest flared.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" the Chaos lord howled as he and his bodyguards rushed for the Lion.

"Everyone!" Ruby shouted. "Clear the bridge!"

Using her semblance she began helping Derrigan and the crew flee from the slaughter that was about to be unleashed.

"Move it!" she yelled, training Crescent Rose's sights towards the terminators as they prepared to fight the Lion.

"Zabriel, help her hold the door!" the Lion ordered the Destroyer as the Lion made his way to the stairs.

"Yes my lord," Zabriel said in response, however the Lion offered no response.

Launching down the guard rails the Lion struck the heretic Astartes. Despite their bulk the traitors stood no chance to the fury of the Lord of the First and were launched backwards by the primarch. Recovering to his feet the Lion unsheathed Fealty and drove the power sword through the neck of the nearest traitor killing him instantly.

A power fist then hurled into the Lion's side, crashing into his aura in a strike that should've shattered ceramite. Despite the protection he now had, the inertia sent the Lion flying from the blow, leaving Fealty lodged in the dead traitor's neck.

Getting back up the Lion kicked out the right knee of a charging terminator wielding a pair of chainaxes causing him to stumble over before stepping away from another marine's attack, his strike landing on his wounded brother.

The Chaos lord then lunged at the Lion with his chainfist but the primarch caught it mid-swing before slamming his other hand square in the heretic's chest, hearing the crack of armor and bones.

Things were getting out of hand to Ruby, these guys were too much for the Lion to handle alone. Opening a vox-link, Ruby cursed as she waited for Kai to pick up.

"Yes, huntress?" the swordsman asked without a hint of worry in his voice.

"We have a problem on the bridge!" she shouted as the Lion brawled with his bare fists against the five terminators. "Some big Space Marines teleported onto the bridge and are fighting the Lion right now! I think he's biting off more than he can chew!"

"How many if you would humour me?" he replied without worry.

"Six!"

Kai then laughed. "Only six?"

"Can you take it seriously!?" she shouted again. Gosh, this guy is just... argh!

The vox-link was silent for a moment before Kai replied again. "Very well," he sighed. "I shall go to the bridge with all haste." The Dark Angel then cut the link while Ruby turned back to see how the fight was going, and watched as the Lion hurled one of the Terminators against the Khornate champion. Using the distraction he had caused, the Lion rolled over to the deck and pulled Fealty out of one of the dead traitor's corpses.

The blood drunk berzerkers charged at the primarch once more, much to his delight. Predictable.

Parrying more of their strikes, some of which were shaken off by his newly unlocked aura, the Lion found an opportunity as the warrior to his right lost all semblance of self control and hurled himself at the Lion with his twin chainaxes raised. Ducking from his strike the enraged heretic bashed into his brother again, and in a single move Lion cut them both with one swing.

One of the Terminators tried to slip under Lion's defence, but a precise shot tore Terminator's fingers, making him drop his weapon and yelp.

"Weakling!" Chaos Lord roared and struck his own warrior with his chainfist, and upon seeing his opening the Lion brought Fealty down and sheared the Chaos lord's sword hand off at the wrist. Barely registering the loss of his hand the Chaos lord swung with his chainfist that the Lion easily stepped back from. Pivoting from another failed attack by the berzerker, the Lion then stabbed Fealty through the heretic's face.

Turning to the last Chaos marine the Lion raised Fealty in a guard position. Staggering forward with a limp arm to meet the Lion's challenge, the Terminator's lightning claws crackled with power as he let out a roar in challenge to the Lord of the First.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLO-" But was rudely interrupted by a heavy-caliber round smashing through his skull, shredding his brain.

The Lion turned to the culprit, finding Ruby pushing in another round into the chamber.

"A fine shot, huntress," Zabriel complimented.

"Thanks!" She replied with a smile before turning to the Lion with a face that of a guilty child. "Sorry for a kill-steal?" She apologized.

The Lion scoffed.

"I take no issue with expediency," the Lion assured her, lowering his blade. "I am not my brother, the Wolf King, to growl and defend my kill." Standing still for a moment as if remembering a lost memory the Lion turned to Zabriel. "What of the rest of the battle?"

"The fleets have not yet begun to engage again," Zabriel assured the primarch. "You killed the intruders remarkably quickly, my lord."

"Yah Zabriel is right sir," Ruby chimed. "I think barely a minute passed." With the Lion merely nodding at their assessment. "So, what do you think about having an aura Lion sir?" Ruby then asked, and for a moment Lion looked at his armor, barely scratched by the terminators, and looked at Ruby, genuinely impressed.

"It's... certainly useful." Lion said. "Does every warrior on your homeworld truly possess this ability?" But before Ruby could answer that, they heard the clanking of ceramite on plasteel and the three raised their weapons only to find Kai. Entering the destroyed bridge with his blade drawn, the former Knight-Commander came to a halt next to Zabriel and Ruby as he looked down at the slaughter with a disappointed look in his body language.

Kai then glanced at Ruby. "I thought you said there was a problem, huntress, not a mild workout for the Lord of the First." Pointing to the dead terminators causing her to pout. "Next time summon me when our lord is truly in danger."

Ruby rolled her eyes.

"We have a damaged bridge that is now polluted by corrupted corpses, and a void battle yet to win!" the Lion snapped at the swordsman. Watching a few of the crew members creep out of their alcoves the Lion pointed to the nearest. "Get on the vox and order everyone to return to their stations immediately or we will have repelled boarders only to be blown apart as we sit inert.

Going back to the auspex Zabriel banged the console as the holo sputtered back to life.

Looking at the battlefield the Lion raised an eyebrow. "What is that cruiser doing?" he demanded pointing to a traitor vessel flagged.

"Nothing, lord," Zabriel reported. "Sensor scan says they have drive power, and I have nothing to suggest that their weapons are inoperative, but they are not engaging."

"I do not like an enemy who holds his fire," Kai remarks.

"It's one less ship for us to worry about Kai," Ruby replied.

"I concur, I prefer him to one who does not, and we have plenty of those inbound," the Lion said. Looking at the holo again Lion's eyebrows furrowed before he moved back up the stairs to the command deck.

"Vox! General broadcast to all, including the enemy!"

"Ready, my lord!" shouted the officer now in charge of the vox.

"This is Lion El'Jonson," the primarch growled. "My ship was boarded by teleportation slightly over one minute ago. The attackers, including your lord, are now all dead. You may expect the same fate if you remain." He signaled to the officer to cut off the signal.

"Most of our ships are reporting low ammunition stocks, Lord Lion!" the officer informed the Lion. "However, they have taken heart from your message, and are expressing their eagerness to take the fight to the enemy again!"

"The majority of the enemy are pursuing us away from the planet, though," Kai interjected. "Should we retreat, and draw them out further?"

"We would have to present our sterns to them, leaving us with little ability to engage," he told them with a sigh, "and to try to turn now would almost certainly leave us still in the middle of maneuvers when their guns came into range. No we will have to see this through to—"

"New contacts!" Zabriel shouted. "New contacts coming in fast, from above the orbital plane!"

"Heading?" the Lion snapped at him as new icons appeared on the hololith. As they appeared the crew who had fled earlier began flocking back into the bridge.

"How did we not see them until now?" Kai asked, his helmet now removed.

"The fog of war applies in void battles as well," the returned admiral told the Astartes, joining them at the hololith. "Once engaged in combat and surrounded by explosions, gas vents, debris, fighters, and so forth, even the best auspexes can fail to register things. I suspect these ships were running dark, using only minimal thrust and power in order to remain hidden. The question is why?"

"Their heading has them on course to join the Chaos fleet," Zabriel called from his station. "Starting to get ship ident codes—"

Unable to read High Gothic as the ship names appeared on the hololith, Ruby saw the perplexed look the Lion gave as he read them.

"The Umbra, the Perfect Vagaries, the Starward Coil, the Saint Lott's, Light…" Derrigan muttered as he read the names.

"They have a ship named after a saint?" Ruby asked. "That must mean they are on our side right?"

"If only that were true," Derrigan told her grimly before pointing at the foremost icon. "That is the Honour's Edge, a Nova-class frigate. It's a ship-killer, and this is her pirate fleet. They have been harassing shipping across half a dozen systems for the last few decades, and defied all attempts to capture or destroy them even before the Great Rift opened. They have no love for the Imperium."

Ruby frowned at the admiral's explanation. "Great so space pirates," she said dourly. "If we didn't have enough problems already."

"A Nova class?" Zabriel then asked. "That is a…Space Marine vessel, is it not?" his voice was hesitant. Zabriel and the other Risen had not explained their situation to the Avalusians nor did she think they planned to.

"It is," Derrigan agreed. "Hence my concern. I can only assume that its captain and crew are allies to the foul monstrosities currently attacking us."

The Lion nodded before turning back to the hololith. "Signal all ships," he ordered. "Prepare to concentrate fire on the Lord of Dominion. Capital ships of that size can carry a battle, so we shall at the very least leave them with one fewer."

"My lord!" Zabriel said. "The enemy fleet is pitching and rolling. They appear to be seeking firing solutions on those approaching from above."

The Lion frowned again. "Admiral, I understand your logic with regard to these ship's character, but surely you must agree that their approach vector gives the appearance not of a rendezvous, but of an attack run?"

Ruby saw the admiral bite his lips. "I cannot bring myself to hope, my lord Lord, but—"

The holo sparkled with simulated weapons fire.

"Target?" the Lion asked the bridge.

"The Lord of Dominion!" Zabriel shouted in joy. "They are giving it everything they have!"

"All ships are to advance at full speed and engage!" the Lion ordered. "Hurry! Our unlooked-for allies will not last long against that fleet alone, but together we can eliminate this threat entirely!"

"We're being hailed!" the vox-officer shouted. "Signal origin is Honour's Edge!"

"Patch it through," he ordered. Waiting as the holo established the connection everybody's eyes widened including the Lion at the image. Being greeted by a grizzled, and scarred looking man with a metal eye-patch. Ruby knew immediately who they were looking at. Despite being a stranger she instantly recognized the Astartes as an ally as his black armor showed through the signal. Another Fallen. Watching his remaining eye widen, the Fallen Dark Angel spoke to them.

"My…my lord Lion? I knew that the astropaths of Avalus had not lied when I heard your voice on the vox, but—"

"I am somewhat altered, it is true," the Lion said to him. "As are you. The admiral alongside me informs me that your vessel is a pirate. State your name and purpose, legionary," he asked the one-eyed marine.

"Knight-Captain Borz, Twelfth Company, my lord," he declared to them instantly. "I will make no excuses for our predation upon this so-called Imperium, although they are far from the only faction from whom we have made our living. However, now you are returned, our vessels and the warriors under our command are yours."

The Lion frowned again. "There are others with you?"

"Indeed so, my lord. Knight-Sergeant Perziel, and Knights Rufarel, Cadaran, and Brennan. Each has a ship — the rest are allocated to mortal commanders we trust."

"And do you stand against the forces of Chaos, knight-captain?"

"My lord, we have harried them wherever we have found them," Borz declared. "We came here merely to ascertain the truth of your return, but when we saw this filth had arrived and were attacking the planet, and we heard your voice—"

"Then let us finish them," he cut them off. "Kai! Get down to the vox and disseminate my instructions to Knight-Captain Borz using the Legion's battle code."

"As you command, my lord." Kai saluted before rushing to the vox station.

Finishing off the last of the Chaos fleet with ease, Ruby alongside the rest of the Risen went down to the hanger of the damaged Lunar Knight to parlay with Borz and his men. Landing in a beaten up Thunderhawk the gunship settled on the plasteel deck with a loud thunk before its ramp came down.

Walking down to greet them Borz wore a worn suit of power armor with bits and pieces of it clearly replaced over the long centuries since the Breaking. Holding his helmet to his waist with his right arm Ruby took notice of the power-fist he wore on his left. It was massive! Alongside Borz were the other Fallen with them alongside a few of the mortal captains he had mentioned commanding his fleet. They were a motley group carrying a collection of various arms from autoguns all the way up to las-cannons and meltas. Pausing as they saw their party one of Borz's mortal lieutenants turned to Ruby and froze.

"It can't be," he said in disbelief, his voice for some reason familiar to her. He was a man who looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, with him having an unkempt mane of blonde hair and a messy beard to go along with it. Thinking hard where she had heard the voice before her eyes widened upon realizing who it was.

"Jaune?"

Chapter Text

"The warp is a tempest, and like all storms, it is uncontrollable, wild, and dangerous. To wield it, you must assert yourself as its master through sheer will. Fail to master this most basic of principles, and you will make yourself a target of predators beyond the veil. That is why you all— ROHAAN! Stop picking your damn nose!" Weiss yelled.

"Ow!" the aspirant said as an acolyte smacked him across the head.

Weiss cleared her throat. "As I was saying…" eying the boy, "you must all learn discipline if you hope to control your powers. Only those with the most control and skill shall be inducted into the Blood."

While expected to get the same training as the other Saiphan recruits, the psykers chosen by High Priest Corbulo and the Chaplain were to be given extra tutelage to form some control of their nascent psychic powers. So far, out of the fifty-two originally given to her and her staff of Thralls, thirty-eight remained, having either died or been deemed unworthy, with the latter given over to the Astra Telepathica. While not good (these were children, after all), at least she could say none of the deaths had occurred during their lessons, so there was that at least.

One of the boys raised his hands.

Weiss sighed. "Yes, Zain?"

"The warp is a tempest, and like all storms, it is uncontrollable, wild, and dangerous. To wield it, you must assert yourself as its master through sheer will. Fail to master this most basic of principles, and you will make yourself a target of predators beyond the veil. That is why you all— ROHAAN! Stop picking your damn nose!" Weiss yelled.

"Ow!" the aspirant said as an scholiast smacked him across the head.

Weiss cleared her throat. "As I was saying…" eying the boy, "you must all learn discipline if you hope to control your powers. Only those with the most control and skill shall be inducted into the Blood."

While expected to get the same training as the other Saiphan recruits, the psykers chosen by High Priest Corbulo and the Chaplain were to be given extra tutelage to form some control of their nascent psychic powers. So far, out of the fifty-two originally given to her and her staff of Thralls, thirty-eight remained, having either died or been deemed unworthy, with the latter given over to the Astra Telepathica. While not good (these were children, after all), at least she could say none of the deaths had occurred during their lessons, so there was that at least.

One of the boys raised his hands.

Weiss sighed. "Yes, Zain?"

"When are we going to learn those cool glyphs you use?" he asked her.

She smiled at the Saiphan boy. "I'm afraid that is beyond your current skill set, aspirant. Besides, my powers are exclusive to me and my family alone."

The boy frowned.

"I'm sure in time you will learn some powers that are much greater than mine, Zain. It will just take some time and patience, and what do we say about patience aspirants?" she asked the room.

"Patience is a virtue," they all replied.

"Good," she said with a smile, happy that they were learning one thing at least. "That will be all for our lessons today. Run along now and rejoin your other comrades. You do not want to keep the Chaplain waiting."

Scurrying out of the room, Weiss and the scholiasts eyed the doorway as the last of the aspirants left. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Weiss and the scholiasts with her found themselves relieved at having gotten through another day. As a few of the scholiasts made signs of the aquila in thanks to He on Terra or took out liquor flasks they had hidden in their robes and began getting intoxicated.

"How many more days before we leave this damn rock?" she asked to know one in particular.

+Twenty Saiphan days, or roughly thirty-seven by Terran Standard,+ an scholiast replied.

"Fuck!" she hissed.

Weiss hated her job with her finding herself gaining a newfound respect for Professor Goodwitch and anybody who taught, it sucked! When Mephiston had made her his equerry she had expected to do something more fitting of the position she was given such as talking with galactic nobility or bossing around the occasional Space Marine instead…instead she was teaching a bunch of damn snot-nosed brats!

"Equerry, your High Gothic lessons with Thrall Peregrine are in approximately fifteen minutes," her servo-skull –'Andy' as she had named it– sputtered.

Weiss' face lit up. "Alright, everyone, I expect a full report of today's results by the end of the day, chop-chop," she said as she left the room, getting a collective groan from her fellow scholiasts.

Walking through the Arx Spirituum, Weiss found it amazing how much the fortress-monastery had changed since their arrival. In the week since arriving at Saiph the area surrounding the Arx Spirtuum had changed drastically. Going from desolate desert wastes to a small industrial zone as the adepts of the Adeptus Mechanicus had worked their magic on the deathworld. With the fortress for the first time in ten thousand years, alive with activity as factories belched out the black smoke of industry while Dario and Prisca yelled at the aspirants below as they prepared them for the horrors that awaited them beyond Saiph's gravity well.

Entering the garden of the Arx Spirituum, the huntsman passed by the statue of Aster Crohne before entering a clearing where she saw Peregrine sitting on a small wooden table.

Saiph had never been a bountiful world, even during the Dark Age, due to that any plant life that existed in the garden had been imported off-world by the Falk household, including the wooden table where Peregrine now sat.

Alongside Peregrine was Ezio, who was occupying his time taking in the beauty of the garden. Seeing her approach, the thrall gave her a warm smile with her returning the gesture.

"You're late," he said as she took a seat right across from him

"I was busy teaching those damn children, cut me some slack," she replied with annoyance.

"Lord Rhacelus will not see it that way," he said, taking a sip from his cup.

"Rhacelus can sod off as far as I care," she said with venom.

"Your mood seems sour," Ezio said as he let a small bird land on his finger, gazing at the animal with curiosity.

"How astute of you, Ezio," Weiss replied with a hint of sarcasm mixed with annoyance.

"Be careful, my friend," Peregrine said with a smirk as he poured her a cup of recaf, "keep acting like that, and you'll have Kriegers lining up at your door for your hand."

Weiss' eye twitched, causing Peregrine to turn pale. "That aside," clearing his throat, "how about we begin with your lessons, shall we?"

"Please."

"Right then." Peregrine searched through his notes. "I believe yesterday we were practicing basic sentences." Peregrine looked at her. "Try asking me a question."

"Quomodo fuit dies tuus?" she said.

"Valde bona," he said, "quid de te?"

Weiss frowned. "Terrivel?"

"No, no, no," Peregrine returned to Low Gothic, "It's not 'terrivel' its 'terribilis'."

"It's close enough," she replied.

"Won't stop you getting burnt on a stake."

"Now you're being dramatic."

"Am not," Peregrine rebuked, "there are some worlds out in the Imperium that consider High Gothic a holy language. To mispronounce it is a grave offense in the Emperor's eyes worthy of execution."

Weiss looked over to Ezio. "Is your idiot brother speaking the truth?" she asked the marine.

Ezio nodded.

Weiss gripped the bridge of her nose. "Of course," she muttered. "Why should I not be surprised?"

Before they could continue with their discussion, Ezio snapped his head towards a nearby bush as his right hand went to his bolt pistol.

"There is someone here with us," he told them quietly.

Hearing rustling in the bushes, the two got up from their seats to see who it was before being stopped by the Blood Angel who made a hand gesture that told them, let me handle this. Walking slowly to the bush, Ezio dug his massive gauntlet through the bush before pulling out a little boy. Holding the boy up for them all to see it took a second for Weiss to recognize the child; it was Remus, one of her students! Hanging from Ezio's hand, Weiss gestured for the Blood Angel to drop the boy.

"Remus!" she yelled with annoyance. "What are you doing here?!"

Rubbing his rear after being dropped a few feet from the air, Remus looked at the three with a wide, guilty smile as he tried terribly to hide his crime.

Remus, like many of the children of Saiph, was scarred by tribal warfare or cancer. Despite these ailments that afflicted his body, the boy paid no attention to them. Having been selected as one of the potential aspirants for the Librarius, she had noted in her reports to Rhacelus at the boy's affinity towards pyromancy. And a powerful one at that, too powerful… Unwilling to give the boy over to the Astra Telepathica for brothers knew what, she had instead decided to focus her time on helping Remus have some semblance of control over his powers. To mixed results…

"Nothing, just exploring," Remus said as the three scowled at the child.

"Well, your exploring is over," Weiss growled. "Ezio, please take him back to Chaplain Dario!"

Doing as she said, the Blood Angel went to grab the boy. "Please, wait, Miss Schnee, can I spend a few more minutes in the green? It's my first time," Remus protested as Ezio grabbed his hand. Weiss raised a hand, stopping Ezio.

"Right, this would be your first time," she muttered under her breath. Thinking for a moment, Weiss decided to make a dumb decision.

"Ezio, scratch that. Remus, you have five minutes." She smiled

Remus' face lit up. "Thank you!" hugging her.

"You're wasting your time, Remus. Now go explore before it runs out."

Nodding his head, the child went off to explore the small eden.

Weiss then turned to Ezio. "Watch him, please. The last thing we need is him starting a fire," she told the Blood Angel.

Ezio nodded before walking off to follow the boy. Going back to her chair, Weiss had a warm smile on her face as she sat back down.

"You sure that is wise, letting that little witch boy roam around?" Peregrine asked with a hint of worry.

"He has spent enough of his life living in hell," she replied with a sad smile, "he deserves to see what little beauty this cruel universe holds."

Weiss' eyes moved to Remus as she took a sip of her drink, staring at the young boy as his eyes were enraptured by the creatures that swam in the depths of a small pond not too far away.

It made her sad.

Not only for the life he suffered through but also for the potential future he would have. To be an Astartes, to have his body remade into something no longer human. To fight brothers knew how many years in wars that would never end. If Remus passed the trials and became a Space Marine, his life would continue to be one of hardship, it would only take a new form. Especially as a Blood Angel. One of the many secrets of the galaxy Mephiston had taught her in the short time she had served as his equerry had been the twin curses that all sons of Sangiunius carried within them. Those being the Red Thirst and Black Rage.

It was what awaited all Blood Angels if they lived long enough, to either turn into feral beasts that wished for nothing else but to drink blood or mad berserkers forced to live a tragedy from ten thousand years ago. It was the open secret that all servants in the Blood knew about but never discussed in the open. It was seen as a bad omen by the Baalites to mention the twin curses. It was part of the burden they shared with their masters, that Weiss now shared.

She didn't understand why anyone would seek out such a fate. To her, becoming a Space Marine seemed like a life of great tragedy. But to the common folk of the Imperium, the Astartes were seen as icons of worship. With that especially being the case for those aboard the Ire.

She had voiced these thoughts to Peregrine with the Blood Thrall explaining to her the great honor there was to becoming a Space Marine, to become an "Angel". How thousands of Baal's youth had for millennia gathered at Angel's Fall to be spirited away by the Blood Angels, to take part in the never-ending wars the Imperium seemed to always be in. Perhaps to the people of Baal and this backwater, there was some honor in giving up their humanity to escape the hell they lived in. To have a cause to die for, a reason to fight.

Peregrine had told her of the life he and Ezio had lived as children on Baal Secundus before the Devastation, and it sounded terrible. To know every day that you may not make it to sundown, be it from disease, flensing sandstorms, hostile wildlife, or the planet itself poisoning you with cancer. That was the life they lived, from the day they were born to the day they died, that omen hung over the shoulders of every Baalite man and woman. Even on Remnant, where the threat of a Grimm attack loomed over everyone's heads, one could still find some bliss and forget it all. But perhaps that was her problem. They had lived on a deathworld and her a paradise. She was born on a vibrant world of verdant forests and blue oceans while they had grown up on a radioactive dust bowl. Her on heaven and them on hell.

"Can I ask you something?" Weiss then said after a long moment of contemplation.

Peregrine raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?" Peregrine asked.

"If you could redo your life from the moment of your birth," she began, "would you still choose to be born on Baal Secundus? To relive everything you suffered there."

Peregrine put down his teacup as he thought about the question. "I would give anything to see my parents again, Weiss," he said, gripping a small red gem around his neck, "to have them see what me and my brother have done, to hug them just one more time…It is tempting." Peregrine looked off to the horizon of Saiph's sun. "But if I redid my life as you suggest, I would have not met you," he then said with a sad smile.

"You would relive the terrible life you lived in Angel's Fall? The death of your parents? The Devastation?" Weiss asked, a bit flabbergasted. "You would do all that just for me?"

Peregrine nodded. "I mean, would you restart your life from birth just because of some heartache?" he then asked with a sad smile as he redirected her question back to her.

"Of course not," she quickly replied. "If I did, I would not have met my friends. I would not have met Ruby, Blake, Yang, or even Jaune I–"

"Then you understand why I would not redo my life," he said firmly.

Weiss frowned. "I'm sorry for asking you that," she said. "It's just I look at the boy–" pointing to Remus–"and the other aspirants, I just see despair for the hard lives they lived. I thought since you lived a similar life…"

Peregrine grabbed her hand, causing her to blush slightly. "There is no need to apologise," he told her. "To most, life on Baal is an anathema. I understand why you would ask me such a question. You caused me no offense in asking. Please do not wallow."

Smiling at his words, Weiss noticed herself tearing up. Quickly wiping the tear from her eye, she pulled her hand away as she returned to looking at Remus' play in the garden.

"Equerry," Ezio then said as he walked over to rejoin them, "I presume you have thought of a good reason to explain this incident to Epistolary Rhacelus?"

Weiss' eyes went wide before spitting out her drink. Shit, what am I going to do to explain all this? Looking again at Remus, the Atlesian felt her blood pressure heighten as she began thinking up of all the terrible ways the Episoltary or Mephiston would punish her for this little hiccup. I am so dead.

Peregrine grunted, turning her head to the thrall she found that she had spat her drink onto him.

"Sorry," she apologized with a smile as Andy zoomed off towards the Blood Thrall with a handkerchief.

Rhacelus paced around his chamber in anger, his warp-scarred eyes ablaze while Weiss stood in fear. Having brought her report to the Episoltary for the day the Atlesian had accepted that she would be chewed out by the Librarian if not worse for Remus' little excursion in the garden. But looking now at the Astartes as he paced around the room with silent fury, Weiss began to wonder if she had made the right choice.

"Tell me, thrall Schnee, is this all a joke to you?" he said at last.

Weiss looked at the Librarian, confused. "I'm sorry, lord, I don't follow what you mean?" she meekly replied.

"I said," his fangs bared as he leveled his head at her, "is this all a joke to you? This assignment of ours here on Saiph?"

Weiss opened her mouth, yet no words came out.

"Well, thrall!?"

"No, Epistolary," she finally managed. "I understand the importance of our mission here."

"Then why did you not return aspirant Remus immediately when you found him in the garden?" he demanded of her his fury barely controlled. "He could've caused much damage with his powers. You, yourself have written about the dangers he poses multiple times in your reports! We were fortunate he didn't burn down the entire garden!"

"I did it because…"

"Because what girl?! I grow tired of this charade. Speak up and say what is on your mind!"

"Because, how could I not?" she snapped. "He and all of those other children have lived their entire lives on this hell! How do you expect them to understand Sangiunius' creed if all they've known is violence?"

"That is for the chaplains to teach them equerry," Rhacleus growled, "not you."

"Epistolary, Rhacelus, tell me what did you feel when you saw a live tree for the first time?" Weiss asked. "What were your first thoughts?"

Rhacelus froze before regaining his composure as he narrowed his eyes at her. "We are discussing you, equerry," pointing his ceramite finger at her, "not me."

Weiss looked at the Librarian with burning determination; she would not be deterred by him and made a groveling wretch this time. Since she had arrived in the embrace of the Blood Angels, she had let fear hang over her shoulders. The fear of what that revenant, Mephiston, would do to her if she failed. She had been turned into a sniveling coward by the Chief Librarian, and she had had enough! If Mephiston or Rhacelus were to punish her, so be it. Better to stand by her beliefs than let them get trampled on.

"You want my explanation. This is part of it, so tell me, Gaius Rhacelus, what did you feel when you saw your first tree?"

Rhacelus' eyes intensified before dimming to their usual blue glow, the Librarian then stared at the huntress for a long moment.

"I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had laid my eyes on," Rhacelus said in a whisper.

"My mama had told me of how Baalfora was covered in them and she would tell me 'little Gaius look across the dunes and imagine that covered in green as far as the eye can see'," the Librarian smiled, "I didn't believe her I thought it all a mere folktale."

The marine looked out with nostalgia as he remembered the long-buried memory. "How wrong I was for not believing her." His smile turned to a frown as he tried to remember what his mother had looked like.

But he couldn't.

Her face was a blur to him in the memory as her features were blurred, having been eroded by the long centuries since he had served the chapter.

"Then you understand why I let Remus wander the garden," she said.

Rhacelus turned her head to Weiss, narrowing his eyes at her. "Perhaps," he said vaguely, "however, you must still be punished equerry; protocol dictates it."

Weiss cringed.

"I believe janitorial duty for a week would be apt," Rhacelus said aloud.

The Ice Queen turned pale. "Let's not get too hasty now, Epistolary," she began, protesting, "surely I could do something else like…like shine your armor or…or give you a haircut perhaps?"

Rhacelus smiled as he heard the Atlesian's petitions. "No, I believe janitorial duty would be the perfect punishment," he said, "unless you wish for me to delegate to the Chief Librarian up in orbit what your punishment should be?"

Weiss became slack-jawed, her mouth struggling to form words. "No, janitorial duty sounds perfect," she said hurriedly.

Walking out of the Librarian's chambers, Weiss' face was a crimson red that matched the armor of the Blood Angels, swearing under her breath as she exited, not caring if Rhacelus heard her. As she strode out, she found Peregrine standing against a marble pillar near the entrance as he ate an apple.

"So how did your talk go, Ice Queen?" he asked, not noticing her terrible mood.

"Shut it," she hissed as she walked off to her hab.

"Did he give you janitorial duty or something?" he asked.

Weiss stopped walking as her eyes began to twitch. Turning her head to the thrall, Weiss stomped over to him. Stopping a foot away from him, Weiss looked at the apple he was eating before grabbing it from his hands and throwing it over a nearby ledge.

"What was that for?" he asked, more confused than angry before a realization came to him. "Oh, Throne he gave you janitorial duty, didn't he?"

Chapter Text

Fate was a sick bastard with its jokes. Weiss did not think her current assignment could get much worse, but somehow, it did! In the days since she had gotten her punishment from Rhacelus, she had come to hate sand with a burning passion. Sand was everywhere on Saiph, and because of that, it got in everything. It got on the floors, into little crevices, the windows, the roofs, her robes. If one was imaginative, it would still not be enough to cover what Weiss had seen in trying to clean the Arx Spirituum of all the sand. On top of all that, she still had to teach those damnable aspirants! Speaking of the aspirants…when Remus had learned that she had been punished because of his action, the boy in apology had given her a poorly drawn picture of a tree that said sorry, or what she believed said sorry since the child was most definitely illiterate. And while she was appreciative of the boy's sign of remorse in her current predicament, it did little to brighten her mood.

Currently sweeping around one of the courtyards, Weiss found it presently being used by Prisca as she trained her Saiphan Elevatii. With most of the Saiphans that the planetary governor had gathered being incompatible for gene-seed implantation due to either bad genetics or being too old most of them had been given over to the colonel to form the first of what would be the many regiments the deathworld would send out in service to the Blood Angels in their war to retake Imperium Nihilus. The colonel was currently giving the Saiphans a speech about what Weiss presumed to be about honor and glory or some other tenet that the Imperium liked to glorify to motivate their troops. But to her, it was all white noise in the background, she was too busy sweeping sand to care about what the Baalite was blabbering on about.

Brother gods it is hot, she complained to herself. Being midday on Saiph, the sun was at its highest for the day with it beating down on Weiss like a magnifier to an ant. She was not used to the heat, having spent most of her life in Atlas; it was especially bad for her. Drenched in sweat by the heat, Weiss found herself loathing the chapter serf robes she was forced to wear, not only because they seemed to make her heat exhaustion worse but also because even if she could take them off, she was wearing little else in terms of clothing under it. Leaning on her broom for a moment to catch her breath, Weiss took notice of a few of the Saiphan soldiers chuckling to themselves. Confused at first, her eyes moved to the Colonel as she noticed the parchment that had somehow been taped to her back. Squinting her eyes as she read it, she found it was written in crude High Gothic with it reading "I shower in groxshit." Or at least that's what it looked like it translated to.

Upon reading it, Weiss began laughing loudly, causing everybody, including the colonel, to stop what they were doing to stare at her. Realizing Prisca had stopped in her speech, Weiss quickly recomposed herself before turning pale as she watched Prisca march over to her. The Baalite's face was a hot red that looked almost unhealthy, it appeared she was angry. That's not good.

"What's so funny, equerry?" she snarled, her voice a barely controlled rage.

"Nothing, Colonel," she immediately replied, "just me being a mad witch and all. Hearing the warp every waking minute of the day will do that to you, such an unpleasant time it would turn anybody mad," she made up.

Prisca narrowed her eyes. "If you were one of those tongue-less bastards in blue, I would almost believe you."

"Well, uh–"

One of Prisca's subordinates then tapped her shoulder and gestured to her back. Grabbing the parchment, Prisca read it, causing her face to go from red to a bright purple before crumpling it up and throwing it to Weiss' feet.

"It wasn't me, Giulia, I swear," she pleaded as she watched the Colonel's eye meet hers. Grabbing her by her robes, the Baalite woman, using the enhanced strength provided by her armor, threw the huntsman to the center of the training yard.

"You and me, witch!" she said, pulling out her sword.

"Are you nuts!?" she yelled as she got back up on her feet.

"If you think you can make me look like a fool in front of my troops and get away with it, you are sorely mistaken!" Prisca sneered.

Pulling out Myrtenaster from her robes, Weiss took a sloppy fighting stance.

"Aren't I at a bit of a disadvantage?" Weiss said, trying to dissuade the Baalite from the fight. "All I have are these robes and you that armor," she pointed out. "There's nothing honourable about this." In a way, she was right. Prisca wore Solar Void armor, an ancient but advanced pattern of body armor. Unlike flak or even carapace armor, Solar armor provided its wearer with increased strength and reflexes. And while it was nowhere near as strong as power armor, let alone Astartes power armor, it still made the wearer very dangerous. Dangerous enough to possibly challenge a huntsman.

Prisca smirked. "I suppose you are right." Prisca then began undoing the straps of her gauntlets, throwing them to the side before lifting off her breastplate and dropping it down to the rockcrete ground.

"Does that satisfy you?" Prisca mocked as she began circling Weiss with her blade raised. Despite her blade now having more weight to it without her armor to support it, Prisca still carried it with the same confidence as she had before.

"Giulia, would you stop being so boneheaded, please!" Weiss begged with a hint of annoyance. "I don't want to hurt you."

Prisca's gaze narrowed. "And what makes you think that?" She asked, her voice now curious.

"Lord Dante found me fighting against traitor Astartes," Weiss said as she made another attempt to prevent the duel, and, like she had hoped, some of the guards standing around started to whisper to one another.

However, much to her dismay, Prisca laughed.

"Did you hear that, warriors of Saiph? She fought a Shayatin!" The gathered soldiers nodded their heads with clear respect while Prisca lowered her sword. "That makes two of us."

Seeing Prisca's serious stare, Weiss quickly realized that this woman was not joking or boasting. Did she really fight them? How? She's just a regular human...

Before she could respond, the colonel lunged forward, crossing the distance between them in a single jump, and sliced her sword from above, with Weiss barely dodging to the left, stumbling slightly, taken aback by Prisca's speed.

"That's why I looked forward to this!" Colonel eagerly shouted as Weiss assumed the combat Stance once again. "So give me your best!"

Blocking her strike, Weiss found her swordsmanship clumsy, she had grown rusty. While Prisca was certainly not as strong or as fast as her, she made up for it in her skill. The woman had talent! Thrusting Myrtenaster at Prisca's gut, the Baalite, without effort, parried her strike, pushing it to the side before attempting a riposte. Just barely stepping out of her attack, the only casualty being her hair as Prisca's blade sliced the end of her ponytail off, causing her to furrow her brow. I'm starting to understand why Yang cares so much about her hair. This would be the second time her hair had become messed up on Saiph, and this time, Andy couldn't do anything about it.

Weiss would be brought back to reality as Prisca swung her blade at her, barely blocking her strike as the two entered into a struggle with Atlesian steel and Baalite iron of their blades grinding against each other. Feeling Prisca gaining the advantage in the struggle, Weiss drove her knee into Prisca's groin.

"Please equerry, I expected more from you," Prisca mocked, unaffected by her strike. "I expected you to hit harder!" Prisca then headbutted her, causing the world around her to begin spinning as she just barely parried Prisca's next strike.

Swiping at her, Weiss dodged the colonel's swipes, her movements that of a drunkard. Thrusting her blade forward, Weiss moved her head out of the way before sweeping her elbow into Prisca's face, breaking her nose. Wiping her face, Prisca frowned upon seeing her blood before her mouth curled into a wide grin. It disturbed Weiss.

"Is that truly the best you can do, girl?!" Prisca said as she cracked her neck before charging at her once more. What is wrong with this woman?! Weiss wondered as she did her best to parry Prisca's strikes. Pushing Prisca's blade away, Weiss' eyes widened as she realized her mistake. Unable to dodge or block her strike, Weiss watched in what felt like slow motion as the colonel drove her fist into her stomach. While her aura stopped the worst of the damage, it could only do so much as she still felt the wind blown out of her. Barely blocking another strike, Weiss decided to gain some distance between her and the colonel.

"I will say, Weiss, where you lack in skill, you make up for it in the beauty of your etique," she complimented.

"Screw you," Weiss growled before tightening the grip on Myrtenaster. Unleashing a flurry of strikes at Prisca, she found each of her attacks stopped by the colonel. Grabbing her by her sword arm, Prisca twisted her hand, causing Weiss to yelp in pain as she dropped Myrtenaster. Using the hilt of her sword, Prisca smacked Weiss on the side of the head, knocking her to the ground. Attempting to get back up, Weiss found herself unable to move as Prisca had her pinned to the ground as she held her blade to her throat, gliding the sword along her aura.

"I yield," Weiss conceded. Satisfied, Prisca got off Weiss before standing back up.

"This–" she gestured to her–"is what will happen to anybody who makes a fool of me, you hear?!" she yelled to the Saiphans watching her. "I will not accept tomfoolery in my army, nor shall the Lord Regent. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!"

"YES, MA'AM," they all yelled.

"Hail Dante!" Prisca said. "Back to the barracks, all of you!"

Leaving the courtyard alone for the pair, Prisca walked over to Weiss, who was still on the ground with the Atlesian giving her a sour look. Sheathing her blade, Prisca lowered her hand to the heiress. Looking at the Baalite for a minute, Weiss, with some hesitance, took her hand. Standing back up straight, Weiss clenched her fist and punched Prisca in her rad-scarred face, knocking her to the ground.

Heaving with exhaustion, Weiss' entire body ached; she was out of shape. That much was clear in their fight. Prisca had humiliated her and made her look like an idiot.

Taking a step, she fell to her knees in pain. Behind her, Prisca laughed, turning her head she found the Colonel had a wide grin on her face.

"What's so funny?" Weiss hissed.

Prisca got back up on her feet and helped Weiss back up. "I haven't had this much entertainment since we got to this rock."

"I'm glad my suffering brought you some joy," Weiss grumbled as she walked over to where she had left her broom.

"You're rusty, that's all," she said, "you are much better than what you showed in that fight. You just need to get back in the flow of things. I hope there are no hard feelings by the way."

Looking at the colonel with confusion, Weiss found herself perplexed.

"Wait, you're not mad at me?" she asked.

"No," she replied, "why would I?"

"Well, I assumed your reaction to my laughter meant I hurt your pride," she explained.

Prisca chuckled. "All performative," she assured her. "I had to do that little act to save face, Weiss," she explained.

Weiss looked at her, slack-jawed. "But why?" she asked, confused.

"Saiphan culture is a brutal meritocracy built on violence, Weiss," Prisca explained. "Only the strong are allowed to lead. If you want something on this planet, you must take it; that is the Saiphan mindset."

"And that means?"

"Since I was appointed to lead the Elevatii by Lord Dante, I am seen as unworthy, an outsider, a 'ajnabiun. I must show them I am worthy to lead them into battle."

"So you orchestrated this is all, including the parchment on your back?" Weiss asked, even more confused, trying to piece everything together.

"Oh, no, that parchment was not me. After I'm done here, me and the commissar are going to flog the bastard who thought to place that paper on me," she said.

Weiss sighed. "Well, I better get back to work. I'm already behind in my sweeping for this area," she lamented, picking up the broom.

"You sure you don't want me getting a medicae to look at your bruises for you?" she asked with concern.

"How about yourself?" Weiss asked with a bit of bewilderment. "I broke your damn nose!"

"Not the first, nor will it be the last," Prisca remarked. "I can at least stand you on the other hand…you like you're about ready to collapse."

"Trust me when I say, Prisca, I'll live," she said. Still, Prisca looked at her with a concerned look, causing Weiss to sigh. "I've been stabbed an inch of my life, Giulia." Pointing to the spot where Cinder had shot her before Jaune saved her life. She frowned as she worried what had happened to vomit boy and if he was ok. Brother gods, did she miss her friends.

Realizing she had started daydreaming, Weiss cleared her throat before continuing. "Point is I'll survive, a little rest and I'll be walking fine again."

Prisca raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" she asked. "You were staring off for quite a few seconds?"

"That wasn't because of the beating you gave me," she said. "I was just thinking… thinking of my friends."

"The ones from your homeworld?"

Weiss smiled sadly. "Yeah." She wiped a tear from her face. "Do you think… I'll find them, Giulia?"

"Maybe," the Colonel said. "But you will certainly not accomplish anything if you give up."

"You say that like you got experience," Weiss mused as she broomed the courtyard.

"Do you know how Blood Thralls are recruited, Weiss?" Prisca then asked.

Weiss nodded. "Perry said they were taken from those who failed the Choosing," she responded. Weiss then snapped her head to Prisca as she realized where this was all going. "Wait, did you try to become a Space Marine?!"

Prisca laughed. "Of course, who wouldn't on Baalfora."

"But only men can become Astartes…"

"And?" Prisca said. "Do you think that stopped me from trying? I was a stubborn girl who heard the legends of how the Angels battled against the enemies of man across the stars. It mesmerized me! So when the Duplus Lunaris came, I knew what I wanted; it was to become an Angel."

Prisca gazed out towards the dunes of Saiph as she remembered those times. "I was eight at the time when I began my trek through Baalfora's wastelands. Eight!"

"And your parents let you?" Weiss asked, perplexed.

"By the twin moons, no!" Prisca laughed. "They tried to dissuade me. They told me I was wasting my time and life attempting the trials. That 'only the men are chosen', I was too stubborn to heed them."

"What happened when you eventually reached Angel's Fall?" Weiss then asked, enthralled by Prisca's tale.

"I passed all the tests the Chaplains and the Priests gave me with flying colours," she said. "But when the time came to pick those of us who would become aspirants, I was passed over, rejected. All because of the gender that I was born as." Prisca stood still; her next words were somber. "That's when I was given a choice: I could return to my family as a fool, commit suicide, or become a thrall."

"And you chose to become a thrall," Weiss then said. "Why, though? You failed, your dream would and could never happen, you didn't become an Astartes?"

"Because…" Prisca said, "even if I could not become a Space Marine, I could still serve mankind in my own way. And look where it got me." Prisca then gestured to herself. "I never gave up Weiss, even when everyone around me was telling me how impossible my dreams were. Even when the brutal reality was proven true, I never gave up. If you miss your friends so much, don't give up hope because the minute you do, then you have failed not only them but yourself."

As the days had worn on since she had entered Mephiston's service her hope of finding her friends grew smaller and smaller as she got used to her new life. There were some days she thought to forget about them entirely to focus on building a new life for herself, it was a tantalizing idea, settling down with Peregrine. The thought of the Blood Thrall caused her to shake her head in disgust, as if!

But Giulia was right; if she gave up on finding them, she would admit defeat, and Weiss was not someone to take that lightly. She had not gotten this far in her life by giving up. So what if her friends were scattered across the galaxy? She would keep looking until she was old and gray; she had to. They would do the same for her.

"Thanks, Giulia," Weiss said. "I needed to hear that."

Prisca smiled at having helped her friend and began making her leave but found Weiss limp towards her and grab her shoulder.

"Wait!" Weiss yelled at her, breathing hard. "How about after my punishment is over, you and I train together, Giulia? I think I could learn a thing or two from you."

The Colonel smiled warmly. "Very well, Weiss," she turned her head. "I'd, however finish up with your cleaning for the day, I think a sandstorm is coming."

Weiss' eye twitched. "GODS DAMN IT!"

Chapter Text

Waking up, Blake found herself in bed with her breathing heavy.

"It was all just a nightmare," she said to herself. She had had the strangest dream. The huntsmen had been on a planet called Arthas Moloch, fighting with a bunch of weird blue fish people against fantasy orcs. Perhaps she was reading too much fantasy and science fiction, and it was all starting to blend together. Getting up from her bed, Blake noticed something was off.

She was back at Beacon, but that couldn't be right. Beacon had been destroyed; it was in ruins… Walking over to a nearby window, Blake looked out the glass and found, instead of the sprawling green forests and the shine of Remnant's broken moon, she found herself high above the ground in what appeared to be a tower. The landscape before her was a dead world with a pitch-black sky that glittered with stars. Looking to where the moon should've shone, she instead found an orb that glittered with yellow lights across its surface. Wherever she was, it wasn't Arthas Moloch nor Remnant.

That's when she caught it in the corner of her eye. Snapping her head around, she found a massive figure staring down at her. Despite having night vision, Blake found herself squinting at the entity. The shadows shrouded it, and the only feature she could distinguish was its eyes. They were pitch-black orbs that were somehow darker than the shadows the entity hid in. Staring at her, the huntsman found herself uncomfortable in the being's presence. For a long time, the entity stared at her before it spoke a single word.

"Nevermore."

Opening her eyes, Blake woke up once more. Checking her surroundings to see if she was in a dream again, she found herself in the crash site of the Orca they had been flying on earlier. She was back on Arthas Moloch. Not sure if I should be happy about that.

"Warrior Blake!" Sergeant Var'un yelled.

"I'm alive," she groaned, grabbing her pulse rifle from the crash, using it to help her up. Brushing the dust off her armor, Blake found her squad alongside a few others who had survived the crash.

"Good, everyone is accounted for," Var'un muttered before turning to Ay'ur. "Ay'ur, how far are we from the Dais?"

Checking his data-slate for a few seconds, the squat Earth Caste looked up at the sergeant. "Around twenty-three tor'kan, sir."

Var'un groaned before swearing in T'au.

"There has to be a shorter way, Ay'ur?" Xira'gos asked.

Ay'ur looked at the data again. "We could cut down around fifteen tor'kan if we go through this subterranean tunnel here," he said, pointing to it on his data-slate. The sergeant contemplated a moment on the new information before opening his mouth again.

"Alright, people, gather what you can from the Orca. We move out in the next dec! We don't have all day!" he yelled to the survivors gathered around them.

Grabbing what little supplies they could from the burning Orca, Blake and the other survivors left the crash site, making their way toward the cave. Thanks to her night vision and the tech in her helmet, Blake was able to make out far-off battles in the distance that were going on. With her watching as the night sky lit up as the three factions unleashed esoteric alien weapons upon each other. It was unreal to look at it. Perhaps…soothing to look at. To think this much destruction has been going on for a month.

"Blake, are you alright?" Suun'vahhe asked, the young Fire-Warrior's voice filled with worry. Regaining her senses, Blake quickly tore her vision from the slaughter that was occurring away from them.

"Yeah, everything is fine, Suun'vahhe," she said, "everything is fine."

Finding she and Suun'vahhe somewhat far behind, the two quickly ran to catch up with the rest.

Unknown to Blake and the rest of the survivors, they were being watched, wearing armor decorated with flayed skin that was midnight-clad in color. Their leader licked his lips in delight as he watched the ignorant t'au march across the open wastes of the planet.

"Shall we strike now, Farl?" his comrade hissed at him, also looking at the t'au. The warrior stood silent before answering.

"No… I wish to savor their suffering, Sakr," Farl replied. The others of his kin then chuckled darkly as they grabbed their weapons and began stalking their prey. This was to be a good hunt.

***

Entering the tunnels, the group found it littered with more of the strange statues and other ruins that were all too common on the planet. It unsettled Blake not only because of the statues but also because of how quiet it was. It was too quiet. They could no longer hear the song of weapons firing off in the distance that the T'au, Orks, and Space Marines were unleashing onto each other. For the first time since arriving on Arthas Moloch, Blake was able to hear the planet truly- or, to be more precise, feel it. It sounded to Blake like the beating of a drum, its song that of war, a chant that demanded its listeners to unleash their inner hatred across all of existence. It called to her, begging her to slaughter the others and take their skulls. That was the only thing that mattered. There was only the Red Path; everything else was meaningless. Her worries about what happened to her team and to Yang were irrelevant.

All that mattered in this universe was the flow of blood. To kill or be killed. To serve the king of brass on his throne of skulls.

NO! Her subconscious screamed, retaking control. Whatever this voice promised her were lies; she would get the hell off this world and find her team, that was a fact. Yet still, as she felt her sense of self return to her, the voice nagged at the back of her mind, screaming for her to let go and let the blood flow. To just say the words and pledge herself to the one true god of this universe…

Her ears twitched.

Snapping her head to where she had heard the sound, her eyes went to a nearby crevice in the tunnels. Catching a shadow of a figure as it scurried for cover, she squinted her eyes and saw more of the shadows lurking around them. Her eyes widening, Blake carefully turned her head to Xira'gos.

"We're not alone," she told the t'au in a low voice. Nodding, Xira'gos carefully readied his pulse rifle. Moving carefully to the front of the group, she found Var'un talking with Ay'ur about some technical matter in T'au. Noticing her, Var'un turned his attention to her.

"Sir, we're being followed," she said quietly, worry clear in her voice.

"Explain, warrior Blake," he asked, confused. Before the faunas could explain further, the survivors began hearing laughter. Raising their pulse rifles towards the darkness in search of it, they found it impossible. The echo of the tunnel made it nearly impossible to hear. After a long minute, the laughter finally ceased. Relaxing a bit, believing themselves safe, Suun'vahhe was suddenly grabbed and dragged into the shadows.

As he was taken, all that everybody could hear were his screams. Listening helplessly as they heard the Pathfinder scream his lungs out, after what felt like an agonizing eternity, he finally went silent.

Sighing with relief that the screaming had stopped, it was soon replaced with horror as a bright fire lit on the tunnel's walls. Burning was a flayed corpse, and for a moment, Blake and everybody else in the party pondered who it was before a horrifying realization came to them.

It was Suun'vahhe!

Laughing at their dismay, the T'au formed a tight circle as they hunted for the monsters that had killed the poor Pathfinder.

Whatever was hunting them had skinned him and crucified the poor Pathfinder. And from what Blake could gather so far about their enemy, they enjoyed it. They enjoyed the fear and suffering they caused. Laughing again, Blake's grip tightened as she felt her blood boil in disgust. These…things whatever they were scum, they hid like cowards from them while preying on them like vultures. It appalled her!

"SHOW YOURSELVES!" she yelled, feeling her voice echo across the canyon. The laughter stopped again.

"Do you hear that, brothers? The little mortal wants us to show ourselves!" one of them said, their voice heavily accented, sounding almost avian.

At that moment, Blake regretted opening her mouth as the shadowed figures began swooping down, grabbing them one by one. All the while they did, they began singing as if this were all a sick game to them.

"Boys and girls of every age, would you like to see something strange? All your nightmares will come true: the Night Lords have come for you!"

Firing their pulse rifles in an attempt to catch their attackers, they found their shots missing their mark with each attempt seeming to humor the Night Lords, she surmised these creeps were called.

"We have come for you! We have come for you! Run in fear from the Lords of Night! We have come for you! We have come to butcher you! Maim and kill with bolt and blade and claw and fright!"

If it weren't for the fact that these creeps were a bunch of sadistic lunatics, Blake would've probably laughed at how bad their singing was. But in the current context, it only drove the fear she was feeling at the moment up a wall as more and more of them were taken into the darkness. Despite her having a better time dealing with the Night Lords due to her aura and night vision, they were still too fast for her.

"It is time! Your lives will be through! The Night Lords have come for you!"

Her ears twitching, Blake quickly dodged as one of the Space Marines soared toward her in an attempt to pluck her from the ground. Creating a double the flying Night Lord, to his annoyance, found he had grabbed a decoy. Screeching like a bird in anger, the twisted transhuman swiped his sword at Blake. Barely dodging his strike, Blake pulled out the looted power sword.

"Be careful with that mortal; you'll poke your eye out," the Raptor mocked.

Looking at the giant closer, Blake noticed he wore armor similar to that of the ones she faced at the base, with the difference being that while their armor was black, the Night Lords were blue with lightning bolts stenciled on their armor, as flayed skin and skulls were littered across their warplate. Not only that, but these giants were more twisted, their hands and feet were clawed and stood hunched as if being on all fours was more natural for them.

Lunging at her like a feral animal, Blake blocked his attack with the power sword before pushing his blade away from her. Attempting to grab at her with his free hand, Blake dodged its attack with a shadow clone, causing the Night Lord to growl in frustration as his prey escaped his grasp.

"Stand still, little witch," he screeched. "I merely wish to hear your screams as I flense your flesh from your bones!"

Lunging once more towards her, Blake barely dodged the Raptor's next attack. Blake then jumped on the giant's jet-pack using the opening she had been provided. Raising her sword, she plunged the blade into the Night Lord's neck, causing oil to gush out. Growling in pain, the Astartes swore something in some foreign tongue before grabbing Blake and throwing her to the ground. Quickly getting up, Blake ran at the Astartes, ramming the power sword at full power through its chest where its heart lay. That was still not enough, however; even as its organs burned and popped, the Astartes clung to life. Grabbing her into a bear hug, the Astartes began to squeeze.

Her aura flaring against the transhuman's strength, Blake screamed in pain as she felt the Astartes tighten its grip. All the while, the Night Lord laughed in glee at her suffering.

"Witch or not, you mortals scream the same," he spat.

A pulse round then slammed into the Night Lord's head, killing the Astartes, causing its grip to slacken as it fell to the ground. Blake turned her head to find the culprit who saved her to be Xira'gos.

"Are all you gue'la so suicidal?" the Fire-Warrior asked. "That's twice I've saved you today, Blake. You owe me a lho-stick after we get off this planet."

Pulling her blade from the Raptor's tainted body, Blake turned up the power-field generator, burning its congealed blood from it. "Well, I don't smoke, so you're out of luck," she said.

Her eyes then widened as she saw the shadow of another Raptor descend aiming for the cocky Fire-Warrior. Pushing Xira'gos out of the way, Blake blocked the Raptor's strike. Pulling out a pistol from his waist, Blake barely sidestepped the shot, shocking the Night Lord. Using his shock to her advantage, she drove her blade into the marine's knee, the blade popping out the other end of its leg. Reeling back, the Raptor howled in pain, sounding more like a bird than a man.

"I'll gut you for that you bitch," he hissed before swiping his blade at her. Ducking beneath his strike, Blake pulled her blade and swung the power sword down on the marine's neck, decapitating them. Its body slumping down to the ground, Blake picked up the Nightlord's head by the bat wings it wore on the side of its helmet.

"ANYONE ELSE!" she yelled, causing the other Night Lords to pause. Looking towards the faunas, they were both shocked and disgusted at the huntress. Shock that a mere mortal had bested two of their number and disgusted that it was a witch, out of all things, that bested them.

Their leader contemplated what to do next as he realized he was taking more losses than he expected and would incur more if he continued. These aliens are more trouble than they're worth.

"Retreat!" he screamed in Nostraman as he and his remaining men flew back into the shadows of the cave.

Throwing the head aside, Blake turned to find her squad and the other t'au looking at her. While she couldn't read their expressions under their helmets, judging by their body language, they were just as shocked as the Night Lords were, with the silence only broken by Xira'gos.

"Aren't you a scary little gue'la!" the Fire-Warrior said, grabbing her by the shoulder. "The commander was wise for giving you to us."

Blake frowned. "Do you think they'll come back?" she asked.

"Most likely," Ay'ur answered. "Gue'ron'sha do not often make tactical retreats; when they do, it is to regroup. Especially after you dishonored them, they will not take that lying down, if we are to use a human term. I suggest we rendezvous with our allies as soon as possible, Shas-ui."

The sergeant nodded. "The Fio is right," he said before turning to the survivors. "EVERYONE!" he shouted. "Move out! The Sooner we get to the Dais, the sooner we can all relax!"

<>

"You promised us easy prey, Farl!" one of his men, Jahak, hissed in anger. "We should've killed those xenos when we had the chance! Now because of your incompetence, we lost Kergec and Herion to that witch whore!"

Before he could continue, Farl decked Jahak, grabbing the Raptor by the throat and shoving him to a nearby cliff wall.

"Is that challenge I smell, Jahak? Do you wish to lead this Claw now? Quite ambitious for a wretch such as yourself," he said as his grip tightened.

"Please, Farl, have mercy," Jahak rasped.

"Mercy?" Farl chuckled. "Do you hear this, fool Sakr?" he gestured to the other remaining member of their Claw. "He wishes for mercy!"

Farl then threw Jahak down to the floor as he began kicking the Raptor. "To think Curze let such a weak welp like you into our ranks!" he growled. "You have the gall to critique my leadership when you are a coward who asks for mercy! Such a disgrace!"

Stopping his punishment, he watched Jahak slowly crawl back up to his feet, his breathing now ragged. Disgusted by him, Farl turned his back to his remaining brothers as he watched the survivors continue marching through the cavern. Beneath his helmet, Farl clenched his teeth in anger.

This was no longer about satiating his desires; now, it was about vengeance! His pride was wounded, and he wouldn't let a pack of xenos and that witch go free without retribution. Their legion didn't believe in such things; any slight must be met with a reckoning. But he wouldn't have it right now. Farl could wait, yes, that's what he had to do, the VIII did best when they hid in the shadows. He would strike when his prey was at its weakest, and then and only then would he feast on their bones.

<>

Surviving the attack from the Night Lords or whatever those freaks had called themselves, Blake and the rest of the survivors found the rest of their journey through the tunnels unimpeded. While they were no longer being attacked, Blake felt an eerie feeling that the remaining Raptors were still following them and merely waiting for another opportunity to strike. She would've done that if she were in the same position.

A Fire-Warrior then bellowed something in T'au, motioning for them to come over.

"What's he yelling about?" Blake asked Xira'gos.

"He found a ship, I suppose," he replied with a shrug.

Walking over to the apparent crash site, the survivors were greeted by a blocky fighter craft. It looked old to Blake, as if it had been here for centuries, if not millennia. Its design was similar to the Space Marines they had fought, but slightly different. It lacked all of the odd symbols and spikes that she had witnessed the Astartes had on their vehicles. Looking at it more closely, Blake noticed what appeared to be a downward blade with wings on the front of the aircraft. Peering through the cockpit, they spotted the glimmer of what appeared to be crystals.

"Shas-ui, these crystals… their energy readings are unlike anything I've seen!" Ay'ur said excitedly as he looked at the readings via his data-slate.

"What should we do, sir?" Ol'nanal asked.

"Leave it," Var'un said.

"Leave it?" Ay'ur repeated. "We can't just leave this here. Such a find like this is rare, Var'un!"

"Last time I checked, this mission wasn't for scientific research," the sergeant said pointedly. "Would you suggest we disobey our orders to the commander?"

Standing quietly, Ay'ur eventually nodded his head. "Forgiveness shas-ui, you are correct."

Dispersing from the ancient aircraft, the group continued their journey through the cavern. None the wiser that a particular party had been watching them from the shadows, and it wasn't the Night Lords.

Uncloaking their chameleon cloaks, figures in teal ceramite stepped out of the shadows to move toward the ancient aircraft.

"Lord Glass, we have located the key fragment."

Chapter Text

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Having retreated to his private chambers, Khayon was dressed in only his robes while his warplate lay on a rack as the slaves cleaned it. After their departure from his prison, he and Telemachon had begun making the long journey to rendezvous with their brother Ezekyle alongside the rest of the Ezakarion.

It felt odd to Khayon again traversing the galaxy, ever since the Heresy, they and the other traitor legions had been trapped in the confines of Hell Space for countless millennia, warring over the scraps and few resources that could be found in that blighted region of space. But now that had all changed.

With Cadia gone, nothing could contain the Crimson Path. The galaxy was theirs to pillage, it felt liberating. Since its creation, the Black Legion had to plan its strategies for the Long War around the bastions the Imperium had in place to contain them. Raids into Real Space had to be quick and decisive lest the Imperium rally their forces. Now they no longer had to rely on that. The supply chains that kept their bitterness burning were now hundreds, if not thousands, of light-years across, stretched across a galaxy aflame with war and chaos.

It brought a smile to his lips. After so many years of playing the waiting game, the fruits of their ambitions were finally being realized. It would not be long until the way to Terra was open for them. Telemachon had assured him of this; what few defenses the Imperium had, the Worldclaimer would destroy them.

But still… Khayon could not help but feel a tinge of worry. Guilliman was an unforeseen variable that had entered the Great Game. It made him wonder what other unforeseen variables were in their not-so-distant future. If another of the Emperor's sons had returned, and would be an obstacle to retaking their birthright.

Alone in his chambers with only the company of his two former brothers, Mekhari and Djedhor the Rubricae, as they always did, stood motionless their force-blades ready if anybody were to bring violence to their master. Frowning as he passed them, Khayon postulated once more, as he had over the long millennia, what such limbo between life and death they lived in. If they were aware of their surroundings in their permanent purgatory, or if the Rubric had spared them from that. If they were aware, Khayon wondered what they would think of him now and all he had done for the sake of brotherhood. Would they be disgusted or proud? It was a question that tore at his soul some days.

Pushing the thoughts down as he always did, Khayon strode over to an artifact he kept covered in his chambers. The former Thousand Son had decided he would sift through the skeins of fate to divine what the future held for him and the Black Legion.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, show me the future of this galaxy at war," he bellowed with a smile to the artifact. While the device did not require him to speak such words, Khayon found it humorous how he twisted the words of the Terran fairy tale from which the phrase had originally been taken from. For it in many ways shared the similarities with that mirror from that story of old.

It was called a specularii, a relic from Prospero's past before the time of the Emperor. Using the sciences of the Dark Age and ancient lore, the Prosperines had gathered during Old Night the specularii had been used to offer a more precise look into the future. It was as much 'magic' as it was science, a perfect union between the real and unreal. Sadly, the Emperor had not seen it that way. Upon his arrival, the specularii were declared forbidden technology that, alongside other pieces of Prosperine innovations, were prohibited due to the danger they posed.

Most had been destroyed, but a few survived. This specularii having been in the possession of his old friend and mentor Ashur-Kai.

Focusing his mind on the warp, Khayon gazed with his mind's eye on what had been, what was, and what would come. Tuning out the useless noise, he turned his attention to the future and honed in on the threads he sought. After a small eternity of searching countless paths, he found what he wanted.

In the future, he sought Khayon saw two souls in the way of the Crimson Path. Both warriors were clad in armor. One whose armor was broken and flawed, the other shining with a pristine silver. A legend returned from the annals of history to enter the Long War, the other an outlander from a world of a broken moon.

He could not discern who either was, with the case of the Flawed Knight, whose identity was hidden by the presence of the Silver Knight. Perturbed about who this 'Silver Knight' was, Khayon used the specularii to magnify who this soul was. As he approached, he felt his body crawl with heat. It felt as if he were approaching a burning star! But yet... he had to keep going, he had to know.

Eventually, it became too much for him. Howling in pain at the power of the Silver Knight's soul, Khayon reeled from his focus and found his mind back in the chambers of his flagship, the Apophis. His breathing heavy, Khayon rubbed his eyes in pain. Regaining his composure, Khayon bared his teeth in frustration. He had learned little about who this Silver Knight was. It angered him! Not only for his failure, but also for the little knowledge he was able to glean. The power he had felt that burned his soul was ancient, a power he had only seen once a long, long time ago. A power that had conquered the galaxy to illuminate mankind towards a brighter tomorrow. But it couldn't be…

The Emperor was inert, a husk of what he once was. A revenant kept barely alive by prayer and blind zealotry. Yet this Silver Knight's powers were the same! Maybe not as potent, but still the same power that He possessed.

But that wasn't what frustrated Khayon the most. No, what frustrated him about the Silver Knight was that their souls were interlinked. His destiny was the Silver Knight's destiny.

In the future, he saw his reckoning would come from this Silver Knight, that was his fate. Not to die in glory at the side of his brothers as they overthrew the corpse-emperor, but on some insignificant pebble of a world far from his brethren. To die forgotten, broken, and alone. His future reminded him too much of what Sigismund had said before Ezekyle had slain him.

“You will die as your weakling father died. Soulless. Honourless. Weeping. Ashamed.”

It perturbed him.

Khayon loathed fate! Fate was what made one a slave! It was what damned his Legion twice, first at the Burning of Prospero and the second due to Ahriman's folly. Fate was what the gods used to keep their mortals subservient. What kept the old legions weak, and what separated the Black Legion from them. It was Abbadon's rejection of fate that separated him from the other warlords who claimed the title of Warmaster. The gods were a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less!

It was by their hands that the galaxy was sundered in two, not the parasites that masqueraded as gods, but them! He was Iskandar Khayon! The Voice of Abbadon, Third of the Ezakarion, and the Lord Vigilator, his fate was his own! He would choose his death on his own terms, and no one would get in his way, not the Chaos Gods! Not the Emperor! Not fate! And certainly not this… Silver Knight!

For now, however, the Flawed Knight and even the Silver Knight could wait. The Warmaster needed him and Telemachon, they had their parts to play in the coming battle. An upending of the galactic order was coming, Khayon could feel it in his bones. And he welcomed it. Nothing would ever be the same, planets would burn, stars would be snuffed out, and the screams of a trillion souls, be they both human and alien, would herald a new, glorious age. An end and a death of the previous order and the rise of a new one. And Khayon and his Ashen Dead would revel in it all.

Not even this knight in silver could stop what had been set in motion, this creature of pure white flame… this honest soul.

Khayon looked at the specularii, in it stood the silhouette of the Silver Knight. Their form was of the cruel fire that had burned his soul, curling his lips in a twisted smile, he let out a deep chuckle from his throat.

Every star can be extinguished.

Every soul could be twisted.

"Soon, Silver Knight," he breathed. "Soon, not now, not tomorrow, but in the near distant future we shall meet…" With a single thought, the white flame was soon surrounded by the ravenous fires of the warp, tearing it apart until only a small flicker remained, "and destiny will not save you." Before snuffing out the flicker with a single huff.​

Chapter Text

With the Chaos fleet that threatened Avalus now defeated, the people of the besieged world celebrated with joy at the Lion's victory. Across the planet, the people celebrated the Lion's victory, having made the impossible possible, for truly these were bright times.

In honor of their victory, Haraj had thrown them all a party in thanks, with even Borz and his men being allowed to join in the festivities despite their past raids on Imperial space. Without the pirate and his fleet's timely arrival, victory in the void-war would have been impossible.

Attending the party, Ruby wore a fine silk dress gifted to her by the Avalusian nobility in thanks for her part in their victory against the Ten Thousand Eyes. Having never been a big fan of social gatherings, even back on Remnant, she had spent her time at the party alone rather than partaking in any of the opulence going on inside the ballroom. Standing on one of the many balconies in the Moon Palace, Ruby watched as the people down in the streets below shot fireworks up into the air.

It brought a small smile to her face to see such happiness in times like these. She had found little of that since Atlas; it was nice to finally have something go right for a change. To not feel like the weight of the world was suffocating her for her mistakes. Like Camarth, they had protected Avalus and its people; that's all that mattered to her.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head to find the culprit to be Jaune. They had not spoken since they met on the Lunar Knight's hangar bay. Seeing him again, Ruby found that he had changed out of the motley get-up he'd been wearing when they reunited for a formal suit. It seemed she wasn't the only one gifted Avalusian silk by the nobles.

"I was wondering where you went off to," Jaune said, as he approached her. Holding two jewel-encrusted goblets in his hands, he handed one to her. Nodding in thanks, Ruby took the goblet from Jaune's hand and sniffed the contents, finding it to be wine.

"Aren't I a bit too young to be drinking this?" she asked her friend.

"Does the Imperium strike you as the type of place to care about something so trivial?" he deadpanned, sipping his wine.

Ruby shrugged. "No."

Jaune smiled. "To the socially awkward." They then clinked their goblets.

Taking a small sip, she found the drink bitter on her tongue that caused her face to scrunch before spitting it out over the balcony.

"That tastes awful," she said. "I am so not drinking that again. Why did I listen to you?" Her face, a smile.

Jaune chuckled. "Did you think it would taste like fruit punch?" he asked.

Ruby smiled. "I guess," she said before laughing to herself. "Remember at the Beacon dance you wore that dress?" she asked before laughing. "I still can't believe you did that!"

Jaune smiled. "Of course I do," he said. "How could I forget?"

The two laughed for a bit about the memory before calming down. Standing there awkwardly in silence, Ruby turned to look her friend in the face as she decided to ask about the elephant in the room.

"Jaune," she asked, her face now a slight frown, "how long have you been here?

After months of being alone in the galaxy, she had finally found a face she recognized, but not in the way she expected or even suspected. It made her wonder who else had fallen here with them. Seeing his face, she was still surprised by how much Jaune's face had aged since the last time they had seen each other. His once youthful face was now lined with wrinkles. Looking into his eyes, she found the witty, scared boy she had met on her first day at Beacon was gone in its place was a man who had seen too much pain for one lifetime.

"Thirteen years," he said in a low voice, "thirteen years since Atlas, Ruby."

"How?" she asked.

"It was after Weiss fell," he said. "When the doorway closed, I fell. Just like you and the rest of team RWBY." Jaune collapsed to the ground, and began to cry. "Throne Ruby, after you and Blake fell, I…oh God Emperor, forgive me…I'm so sorry, Ruby," he then said.

Going to his side she hugged her friend. "It's okay, Jaune," she tried to comfort him. "We'll find them."

Jaune gently pushed her aside as he wiped his tears. "That's not what I mean." His eyes hollow. "After you and Blake fell, I… had to…" He turned his head away from her. "I had to kill Penny, Ruby. I'm so sorry. It was the only way to prevent Cinder from getting the Winter Maiden," he then said. "It was her last request before she passed."

Ruby's heart dropped.

Getting back to her feet, she walked to the ledge of the balcony and stared down emptily at the streets as she took in what Jaune had told her. She had given her friend a second chance at life, and as fast as she gained it…it had been snuffed out. Feeling a tear trickle down her cheek, she carefully wiped it away before looking at it in her hands. Turning her hand into a fist, she squeezed until she felt her hand grow numb as she felt a burning fury rise from her belly. A rage that had been simmering long before she had found herself on Camarth, before even Atlas and Mistral. A fury that had been born on the night Beacon had fallen, when she had watched as Pyrrha had been killed like an animal by Cinder. Cinder. It all came back to her. All her pain, all her suffering, was because of her. When she returned to Remnant, she would make sure she paid for all the lives she took; she would make sure of that!

Turning back to Jaune, she found herself afraid to ask her next question.

"What about the civilians?" she finally found the courage to ask, her voice shaking as she did. "Did they at least make it out?"

Jaune nodded. "Yes, in that your plan more or less worked," he said, causing Ruby to smile a bit that at least something had gone right.

"And the Staff?" she asked. "Did we keep it out of Salem's hands?"

Jaune took a deep breath. "No," he said. "In that, your plan failed."

Ruby felt herself become woozy. With the Staff, Salem would mop up what little resistance remained on Remnant with ease. It would only be a matter of time before the other kingdoms fell to whatever horrible creations Salem's twisted mind unleashed.

"Okay," she breathed. "It will be fine," she tried to assure herself. "We just need to find the others, find Remnant, and find some way to stop her." Turning to Jaune, all she found was a frown.

"It really has been only a few months for you," he muttered, "after all I have told you, isn't it clear? We lost. Salem won," he said in defeat. "Just accept that…"

Ruby slammed her fist on the railing, her eyes in tears. "How can you say that?" she breathed. "After everything we lost, everything we sacrificed, you just want to give up? What about your family? About your team?"

"It's called moving on, Ruby," Jaune said, before sighing. "I suggest you do the same. You'll save yourself a lot of time and grief. You got lucky finding me. The rest of team RWBY is probably dead…I'm sorry."

"What makes you so confident in saying that, Jaune?" she asked.

He sighed before getting and walking over to where Ruby stood. "I got sent back thirteen years before you arrived. With that in mind, what makes you think that didn't happen to the rest? Hell, as far as we know, they could've been sent centuries, if not thousands, of years into the past. For all we know, they could be dust and bones. Not only that, but with the sheer size of the galaxy and the Great Rift, finding them would be close to zero. We would be wasting our lives away for a hopeless mission."

Ruby bit her lip. "We should still have some hope they're still alive, Jaune." She tried to say with some optimism.

"Hope?" he said bitterly before laughing. "Hope is dead, Ruby! It died the minute Abaddon broke the Cadian gate!" Pointing to the faint outline of the Great Rift in the sky. "Do you understand how fucked everything in the galaxy is?"

"Jaune, I know it's not been easy for you, but–"

"That's where I'm going to stop you!" he said, raising his voice. "Saying things haven't been easy is the understatement of the fucking millennia! I have been stuck in this hell for thirteen Throne-forsaken years! Thirteen years of surviving everything this galaxy could throw at me, be it aliens, crazed zealots, or insane cultists! And you are telling me I need to have some fucking optimism, woman?

"Let me explain this in a way you can understand, Ruby. Since that gash in reality opened, things have gotten worse. And I do not just mean space travel coming to a crawl, I am talking about the very laws of reality breaking down. Including time. Do you hear me? Time is broken, Ruby! The veil that keeps the things from Outer-Hell is growing thinner and thinner by the hour. This galaxy is dead, Ruby! It will be consumed, and what will be left will just be madness and the laughter of Dark Gods! That's the fate that awaits us, an end and a death to all life!"

"The Lion can change that," Ruby said as she stifled her annoyance at her friend's nihilism.

"You mean Captain Genocide?" he remarked before letting out a bitter laugh. "The Lion is not our savior, Ruby, he is just another tyrant, a warlord no better than the rest of the Imperium and its dogs." He then narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't tell me you wish to petition the Lion to unleash the Dark Angels on Remnant?" he asked with disbelief.

Ruby stood silent before Jaune groaned. "Emperor's teeth!" he said. "You still remain the same stupid child from Remnant. The Dark Angels are monsters, Ruby. They wiped out entire civilizations and showed no mercy to those they slaughtered. I've overheard Borz and his brothers boast about all the terrible things they did during the Great Crusade, of the 'valor' they won in the Imperium's name," his voice haunted. "Let's say Remnant is still out there and we bring the Dark Angels to Remnant to defeat Salem. Then what? Do you think the Lion will let us live in peace and let us be?"

"We…"

"He won't," he said. "When the Imperium gets ahold of a planet, they won't let go, Ruby. And even if we somehow fight them off, they'll make sure we don't win either especially if its the Dark Angels... That is the position you will be putting us in if we allow that monster to help in our plight. We would be trading one unstoppable enemy for another and let me tell you, I'd say our chances with Salem are far, far higher with her than trying to fight a primarch." He took a deep breath, his next words somber. "You are so focused on saving our home that you don't see the bigger picture of it all. Good intentions or not, having the Imperium or the Dark Angels help us will be our doom."

"You think I don't know that?" she yelled. "At least I'm trying to make things right instead of wasting my damn life being a gods damned pirate!"

"Do you think I love this life?" Jaune asked, with pain in his voice. "Do you think I like taking from the innocent and helpless to survive? That it gives me some sort of…high? Newsflash it doesn't! I never wanted this! It's because of your stupid plan to save everybody back in Atlas that I had to resort to this…life!"

What's that supposed to mean?" Ruby snapped as she felt old wounds reopen with Jaune's remark.

"Your plan failed!" he yelled. "It's because of you that we're stuck here! Every decision that you made when we arrived in Atlas was the wrong one! And in the end, it cost us not only a relic but also an entire kingdom! Millions died because of you! Ozpin choosing you to be a leader was the worst decision in Remnant's history!"

"I…I did what I thought was right," she said, her voice trembling.

"You did," Jaune said, motioning with his hands, "and look where it got us?" he sneered. "We are stuck in a galaxy of eternal war, and not only that but it's the side cutoff from everyone else, currently being attacked by an endless horde of degenerate mad men!" He looked at Ruby with a look that spoke of thirteen years of pent-up rage. "And you want us…want me to help you go on some impossible mission to find our dead friends? To find the ruins of our home? By all means go ahead! But do it alone! I'm done following you, Ruby. I'm done humoring your delusions!"

Ruby stood motionless as she took in each of Jaune's words. Perhaps he was right; this was all her fault. If she had just shut her mouth and done what Ironwood said, they wouldn't be stuck in the Imperium fighting insane cultists. Her compassion, her need to save everyone, just got people killed! It's why Penny died. Brothers, Jaune was right… Why did Ozpin make her a leader? Feeling her guilt bury itself into her heart, Ruby remembered the Lion's words from Redmoon Keep: "you must not let that compassion cloud your judgment when you are forced to make a hard decision. If you do, it will be turned into insecurity and self-hatred."

Taking a deep breath, Ruby wiped the tears that began to drip down her cheeks and looked at Jaune, her face a hard resolve void of emotion.

"You're right, Jaune. This is all my fault," she said calmly. Jaune looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I screwed up big time," the truth hard for her to say out loud, "I won't question that. Our…my plan was flawed; if I could, I would stop myself from doing it again. I would've come up with a different plan, knowing in hindsight what would've happened. But I can't. What's done is done." She felt her eyes sting as she thought again of Penny and what had befallen her.

Ruby then turned her gaze down again to the streets of Xerxe. "That doesn't mean we shouldn't help here, and I'm not talking about helping the Imperium. I'm talking about helping its people. They need us. If we fail them, billions will die, not thousands, not millions, billions." She took a deep breath. "I can't in good conscience let that happen. I've already let my friends down." Looking at him. "I can't let these people down as well. While it's probably not worth much to you, I mean this with all my heart, Jaune. I'm sorry." Ruby then knelt down to Jaune in penance as she waited for whatever judgment he wished to pass on her.

Jaune was slack-jawed; he did not expect Ruby to agree with her. He had honestly expected the huntsman to double-down on defending her actions, but this…this was unlike her. Perhaps her arrival in the galaxy had changed her…

Jaune sighed. "The Lion," he began, "is he someone in this dark galaxy we can trust, or will he just be another enemy of ours down the road?" Obviously referring to Ironwood.

Ruby raised her head. "For what we're doing right now, I trust him," she replied. "Despite all the terrible things he did in his past. All the death and destruction he caused in building the Imperium, he is not the same man that I'm sure Borz and his other brothers have told you. He has changed. The Lion fights to protect the innocent. It's what he told me and Zabriel the night we first met him. He has no desire to rule, just to protect the people of the Imperium, nothing more, nothing less. The Lion is a man of his word if he wasn't Borz and the other Risen would be dead."

"Risen?" Jaune repeated, not recognizing the phrase.

Ruby chuckled lightly, "It's what Lohoc has decided they will be called," she told him.

"Knights," he muttered.

"Does this mean you forgive me and you'll join us?" she hesitantly asked, afraid what Jaune would say.

"No," he said, frowning, "wounds take time to heal." Ruby's shoulders then slackened. "But I will join you and the Lion. If what you say is true about him, then his cause is just and noble. It's time I atone for all the pain I've caused, being part of Borz's band."

Ruby took a deep breath before getting to her feet again. "You still haven't told me how you ended up with Borz," she said. "Care to spill the beans?"

"It's a long story," Jaune began, "but I joined One Eye's crew around nine or so years ago, give or take."

"What were you doing before you joined his crew?"

"When I woke up, I was on a planet in the Calixis Sector, shortly after I got press-ganged to work on some merchant ship. Besides the fact that I was kidnapped and made a slave, life was relatively decent."

"So what happened that caused you to want to change careers?" she asked.

"During a voyage, our ship was attacked by the Rak'Gol," he explained, his mood darkened.

"Rak'Gol?"

"A vile xenos race, somehow less technologically advanced than the Imperium on a bad day, eight-limbed murder machines. I would not advise being near one," he said, his description of the alien race filled with vitriol. He then pointed to his left foot. "It's because of those bastards I lost my leg," he said, tapping it.

"Then what?" Ruby asked.

Jaune's eyes became hollow. "After they slaughtered most of the crew, the Rak'Gol spent the following few weeks hunting the few of us that remained for sport. One by one, they took us screaming into the night."

"Brothers, Jaune," she said, horrified, "are you ok?"

Jaune sighed. "For better or for worse, I've grown numb to it all, especially after joining One Eye," he said glumly.

"Is the galaxy out there really that bad?" she then asked.

"If it weren't, we would probably be on a paradise world laughing our worries away, then be here, Ruby," he said plainly. "In saying that, being stuck on that merchant ship for Emperor knows how many weeks was honestly the lowest point in my life. By that point, I had made sure to keep it hidden that I didn't follow the Imperial Creed, but as the days went on and there were fewer and fewer of us by the day, I…I started praying."

"Praying?" Turning her head to him. "Wait, do you worship the Emperor?" she pressed.

"Yes," he replied with no shame before pulling out a double eagle pendant that he had been wearing around his neck. "Do not worry, though, I am not like the zealots you have surely met. I won't burn you on a stake for not believing in His divinity."

Ruby was unsure how to feel. While she was relieved that religious fanaticism had not made her friend insane, she still didn't approve of his worship of the Master of Mankind. It felt...wrong. From what the Lion and Zabriel had told her, one of the founding principles the Emperor had built his Imperium of Man on had been to look past religion and find enlightenment through science and reason. And while she found how the Imperium achieved this 'illumination' to be repugnant, she would be lying to say certain aspects of the Imperial Truth didn't compel her. While she was not crazy enough to deny that gods existed in the universe, she did not find them worth her worship, be it the Brother Gods, the Chaos Gods, or this so-called God-Emperor. To her, the gods just viewed them as playthings to do as they pleased, with no thought to the lives they ruined in their schemes.

In saying that, if Jaune was now a worshipper of the Creed she would have to accept it. Her opinions of the Church aside, as long as he kept his faith to himself and it didn't become a problem, she could turn a blind eye.

But before she could ask anything else, she heard heavy steps approach from behind. Turning their heads, they found it to be the Lion. Buckling under the presence of the Lion the two tried their best to not supplicate themselves before him.

Dressed in the simple robes he was given upon their arrival to Avalus, the Lion looked out of place in his attire.

"Greetings, huntress," the Lion said. "Captain," he greeted Jaune with a nod. "I have been informed you are from the same world as Huntress Rose, is that true?" he asked.

"Y-yes, you're right, sir," he responded, his voice buckling slightly, not used to the aura of a primarch. "We were classmates back at Beacon–a huntsman academy on our homeworld."

The Lion grunted. "And I presume that means you possess an aura and semblance, just like her?" he asked.

"Yes," Jaune responded, "although, as I'm sure Ruby has told you, it is different than hers."

"And what would your skills be?"

"To amplify the aura and semblance of others," he explained. "A useful ability back on our homeworld, but useless here. Imperial psykers do not possess auras thus are too unstable; they lack protections. Amplifying their abilities risks death, or even worse…"

"And how do you know this?"

Jaune frowned. "I have been stuck in this Throne-forsaken land you call a galaxy for thirteen years, sir. I have had plenty of time to learn the limitations of my powers."

"I see," the Lion said, deciding not to push further.

"Lion, sir," Ruby then said, "why aren't you celebrating?"

"I detest these events," he explained to them. "As do most of my sons. Astartes are creatures conditioned for action, not social gatherings, and I do not think the isolation that many of them have endured helps the matter."

"All except for Kai," Ruby joked.

The Lion smiled. "Yes, all except for Kai. The Knight-Commander is enjoying the spotlight, it seems." They then turned their heads as they heard clapping as the braggart Dark Angel showed a mob of Avalusian nobles a trick with his sword.

Ruby laughed.

"But that was not the only reason," the Lion then said. The Lord of the First then turned again towards Jaune.

"Mister Arc," he began, "I have spoken with Knight-Captain Borz; he has told me that there are more of my sons near Avalus, is this true?"

Jaune shrugged. "Rumor goes," was all he could reply. "Apparently, other Dark Angels, or Fallen, or whatever the hell you would call them, exist near Avalus, but old One Eye nor the rest of our fleet has had contact with them for years. But as you said yourself, it is all just rumors, at least to us mortals. Whatever happened between One Eye and those other Fallen was before my time, or even anyone alive currently in the fleet; you Dark Angels are very coy with information. Why do you ask?"

"Because after this party is concluded, we shall depart to rendezvous with them," he explained. "I wish to know what we shall be dealing with since Borz, as you said, has been vague on the finer details of these other sons of mine."

The two then looked at the primarch wide-eyed.

"Already?" Ruby asked, surprised they were leaving so soon.

The Lion nodded. "It will be a long journey. The longer we wait here, the more likely the Ten Thousand Eyes will attack once more. If that happens, we will not win; we will need the assistance of Borz's allies to continue this war," he explained in his usual tone.

Jaune sighed. "I'd better gather my crew then. Damn bastards are probably wasted."

"That will not be necessary," the Lion told him.

Jaune looked at him, confused. "What do you mean, sir? Isn't Captain One Eye leaving?"

"He is, but you will come with us on the Glory of Terra. That is the other reason I came to you, Mister Arc. Borz has made you his emissary on the voyage. Insurance, if I believe he has betrayed us."

Jaune gulped before swearing in some unknown dialect of Gothic. Ignoring the Lion's last comment, Ruby jumped in joy before hugging Jaune.

"Come on, Jaune!" she cheerfully said, as she dragged her friend out the door. "We need to get packed! You heard the Lion! We're leaving after the party ends!"

"Damn it Ruby, let go of me!" he protested. "I am a grown man. I can walk by myself!" he bellowed as her friend dragged her across the ballroom floor to the door.

Alone on the balcony, the Lion glanced over his shoulder to find Zabriel standing there in the shadows.

"That girl is such a handful at times," he said. "Don't you agree, lord?"

The Lion grunted in agreement. "Yes, but that is why she is my left hand and you my right," he told the Destroyer. Zabriel did not argue. "My son," the Lion began. "I have a mission for you."

Zabriel raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?" he asked.

The Lion pondered his words before opening his mouth. "One lead Borz gave me was the Trevenum System—"

"And you want me to investigate this claim?" Zabriel finished.

The Lion nodded. "Yes, take the Pax Fortitudinis to investigate these claims, and if true, see if you can convince your brother to join us."

"That's certainly the task," Zabriel replied. "Are you sure I am worthy of this mission?" he then asked. "Why not send the huntress?"

"They will not parlay with a mortal, my son," the Lion said. "Especially a witch."

"Then why not send the both of us?" Zabriel asked. "She is far more diplomatic than I."

The Lion raised an eyebrow. "Is that doubt I sense, my son?"

"No, my lord!" Zabriel tried to deny. "It's just…"

"What?"

"I was a member of the Dreadwing, a Destroyer," Zabriel explained. "Even before you were found, I was a reaver of the Skandic Host. I have more in common with the butchers of the XII than the likes of Guilliman's scions. I am no diplomat, my lord. My purpose is the utter destruction of man's enemies. Nothing more, nothing less. I am an Astartes in its purest form, a weapon to be used then discarded."

"Is that truly how you see yourself, my son?" the Lion said with a hint of sadness.

Zabriel remained silent before replying. "Yes. That is why your father made us, my Lord El'Jonson. To be weapons. To conquer the galaxy, then dispose of us when the task was complete. Just like the Legiones Cataegis."

The Lion frowned. "I do not say this lightly, my son, but perhaps my father was wrong."

Zabriel tensed.

"Yes, you were made for war, but that does not mean that is all to your life. Look at your cousins, the Blood Angels or even the Ultramarines. Yes, they were warriors first, but they were more than that. Even the Thousand Sons were more than mere battle-witches before they fell; they were scientists and philosophers."

"I do not understand, my lord. Are you telling me to become a poet?"

The Lion shook his head. "No, what I'm telling you, Zabriel, my son, is that you are not a destroyer as you think you are. If you were, you would've never protected the people of Camarth as you did when I found you and the huntress. You and Huntress Rose are to be my companions, and while you are my bloody right, that does not mean that is all you are useful for. And right now, my son, I need you to play the part of the diplomat and peacemaker."

Zabriel then chuckled, confusing the Lion. "She said the same to me right before you returned, my lord," Zabriel mused somberly. "The huntress said I was more than a weapon, a 'protector' she called me," Zabriel snorted. "I dismissed her words, originally thinking them that of a foolish youth who knew nothing, but as more time has passed, I have begun to doubt that. Perhaps she was right…once I return, I shall apologise to her."

"Then you shall do it? Will you go to Trevenum?" the Lion asked.

"Yes," Zabriel said before making the aquila. "By His will, it shall be done! I wish you luck with Borz, my lord."

"As of you, Zabriel of Terra."

Zabriel then began walking away from his gene-sire and couldn't help but smile.

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Passing by a glow-globe as she strode the open hallways of the Arx Spirituum Weiss held a data-slate in her hands as her servo-skull, Andy, accompanied her. Stretching her arms, Weiss felt something in her back pop, causing her to wince.

Her body was still readjusting after many months of not fighting. Since she had arrived on the Ire, she had found her job tediously boring. Because the Chief Librarian and Rhacelus were unwilling to do so, she sifted through paperwork and signed documents for the Librarius for many hours daily. It was draining and just made her appreciate the fact she became a huntress instead of taking some office job at the SDC.

It was for that reason she found her spars with Prisca so exhilarating! For the first time in months, she felt alive! Since the incident in the courtyard, she had been spending some of her free-time sparring with Prisca with her slowly but surely regaining her former finesse. They were a pleasant break from the mundanity of her life, especially with her current assignment. Teaching put her in a foul mood and fighting Prisca was a good way to release some of that pent up frustration. It was during these training sessions that made her realize just how much she came to rely on her glyphs to fight. They had become a crutch. With Prisca quite literally beating it into her how much they had during their early sessions in the cages. Now though, things had become much more even, with her and the Colonel fighting for minutes on end to either hard won win for the Baalite or a draw.

I can see why the Saiphans respect her, Weiss mused, popping another joint in her bruised body.

Currently night, the Fortress Monastery was mostly empty with only her, a few maintenance servitors, and some Astartes on patrol duty being awake to roam the labyrinthine halls.

Glaring up to the night sky, Weiss found Saiph's two moons glowing brightly in the background of the malice lilac presence of the Great Rift. Having lived her entire life only seeing the shattered visage of Remnant's moon at night, she found it mesmerizing having a whole moon glow back at her, let alone two.

From the few data-packets she read on Saiph, the moons were called Daw' and Azalam. Because of their unique orbital rotation that saw one moon disappear in the night sky for extended periods of time that could last as little as a few months to a few years, the moons had become regarded as representing aspects of light and darkness. With the native tribes viewing the twin moons as aspects of Dromlach, the 'Cosmic Serpent'.

It was just one of the many Baalite myths that missionaries from the Tribes of Pure Blood had imparted to the Saiphans during the years of the Great Crusade. With Dromlach in Saiphan myth being responsible for creating the cosmos, being both the giver of life and its taker. It somewhat reminded her of what the Brother Gods represented in a way. With the appearance of Daw' usually being a 'Phase of Harmony' where Dromlach demanded peace amongst the Saiphan tribes, while Azalam's appearance was seen as a 'Phase of Culling' where Dromlach demanded war and bloodshed, with its appearance usually being seen as a sign of bad luck. But currently, Saiph was going through a 'Phase of Balance' as Falk and his advisors had told them, where light and dark were in equilibrium with each other, which meant the Cosmic Serpent was currently indifferent to the tribes and their doings.

Satisfied she had her fill of seeing the moons, she quickly turned her eyes away and rubbed them in pain. While Saiph wasn't close to the Great Rift and her aura gave her more of a resistance to the corrupting effects from staring at it, it was still dangerous. Moving her eyes down, they gazed out beyond the confines of the ancient Fortress Monastery, beyond even the barracks, and the smog of the manufactorums where sand dunes rolled across the wind. It was one of the few redeeming things she had found of Saiph during her stay.

Reaching the chambers to the Spira Vetiti, she placed her hand on a nearby DNA Cogitator before having a servitor terminal scan her retina. Giving a chime, the door opened for her, allowing for her to proceed further into the structure.

Shivering from her encounter with the servitor, she continued on. While she no longer felt sick being around servitors and didn't get the heebie-jeebies around servo-skulls thanks to Andy, she still found them detestable things to be around. She really did not like how they stared back at her, with those dead empty eyes… It was almost as if someone was staring back at her. Feeling a chill on her back, she pushed the thought to the back of her head. The less she thought of the implications of servitors being conscious, the better. She didn't think she would be able to sleep if she were to find out that those lobotomized corpses had a shred of what one would call a soul.

Passing by massive bookshelves, the archival chambers of the Spira Vetiti, like the rest of the palace, were empty, with her fellow scholiasts gone for the day. While their primary job on Saiph was to help him in the recruiting of new aspirants for the Librarius, Mephiston had charged her and Rhacelus in the study and archiving of all lore relating to the ancient history of the Legion. Because of the brutalist nature of the Blood Angels before Sanguinius, the Council of Bone and Blood had expunged and redacted much of the Chapter's exploits in those dark days in the preceding years following the Siege of Terra. They saw the Chapter's past as cannibalistic berserkers better left forgotten to the sands of time.

After reading some tomes on the Legion's early campaigns, she could understand why the Council would want to bury such deeds. The early IX had been monsters. With their campaign on Neptune, a world in the human cradle of Sol, being an infamous example of how deranged the Legion had been before Sanguinius had uplifted them from the brink.

That was not to say Mephiston or the rest of the Librarius thought the same. As she had learned during her time aboard the Ire the Librarians, while their primary job was to offer aid in battles of the more occult sort, was not their only job. They were keepers of the Chapter's history and more with Mephiston having even told her that a few of the data-crystals they kept aboard the Ire were of things dating back to the Dark Ages when mankind had been at its zenith of power. To the Librarians, knowledge of any sort was to be hoarded.

Reaching Rhacelus' office, she found the massive doors ajar.

That's odd, she thought to herself.

Usually, the Epistolary kept his doors shut most days, isolating himself from her and the other scholiasts to conduct his own business in private.

Something was not right.

Carefully creaking the door open, Weiss found Rhacelus pacing around the room, muttering to himself while in his robes. His psychic hood off, the Librarian's long mane of silver-blonde hair flowed from his head.

Clearing her throat to get the Astarte's attention, Rhacelus ignored her.

She sighed. "Lord?" she said, her voice containing a hint of annoyance.

Rhacelus stopped in his pacing before furrowing his eyebrows at her. "What do you want?" he asked, clearly irritated by her presence.

Despite their contempt for each other having simmered following the incident with Remus in the garden, it was still not what Weiss would could call "ideal" in the slightest. With their relationship having shifted from barely tolerable to just tolerable.

Scrunching her nose in annoyance, Weiss went to say something before stopping herself.

Calm yourself Weiss, she thought, you don't want to say anything rash. Even if Rhacelus is an ungrateful prick…!

"I have come to bring my daily report on the aspirants," she told him, showing him her data-slate.

Pulling it out of her hands with his telekinesis, he put the data-slate on his table before gesturing with his hand to Weiss to leave. Still sensing her presence, the Librarian furrowed his brow at her.

"Does something bother you, scholiast?" he asked.

"N-no lord," she quickly replied. "You just seemed worried. That's all,"

"Perhaps I am," he said vaguely.

"Would you like some tea?" she offered. "I could have a servitor prepare you something before I leave."

"Tea will not calm my nerves for what I've seen," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "And that would be…?"

Rhacelus sighed before motioning her to come closer. Walking over to her desk, Rhacelus used his telekinesis to make four cards float up into the air for her to see. One was of eight piked wolf heads, the next was similar to the last, only with one wolf's head. After that was a figure dressed in robes as cherubs in the background played trumpets, and the final was a skeletal figure with a golden crown inverted,

"What are they?" Confused at their importance and also why the Epistolary was showing them to her.

"They are cards of the Emperor's Tarot," he explained. "Do you know what that is, girl?"

Weiss thought for a moment before replying. "Yes," she said at last. "They are a deck of cards that are meant to represent the Emperor's will. That's what Thrall Peregrine said, at least to me…"

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"Well, besides that, he told me that they are used for playing card games and also to divine the future for some. But he explained that the last part was all just a bunch of superstitious hogwash."

"I do hope you are not participating in using the Tarot for such viceful things, scholiast," he then said.

"Of course not!"

Of course she was!

Why else would know about the Emperor's Tarot? Since they had arrived on Saiph, a few of the guardsmen brought in to assist Prisca in training in the Elevatii had started an underground gambling ring to kill away their boredom. Normally she would never stoop down to participating in such low brow activities, but Saiph didn't have much in terms of entertainment, if you'd call the barbaric gladiatorial fights that the nobles held 'fun'. And she wasn't alone. Imperials from a wide range of backgrounds participated in these gambling events with even a few Astartes playing (as insane as that was to believe). Sadly, her skills in Regicide did not translate very well to gambling, and she usually lost more than she won.

"Nevertheless…" Rhacelus said, "the Tarot is not superstition, as that blood thrall would have you believe." He then showed her a few more cards within his deck that included a silver key, a tower of lightning, a jester, and finally, a newborn child. "To blunts the Tarot could be described as 'superstitious hogwash' but to us, those who can view behind the veil of reality to the Sea of Souls, the Tarot is very much capable of telling one the future."

Weiss looked again at the cards Rhacelus had shown her. "Then what do these cards mean?" she asked with morbid curiosity.

"De Infernum Legionis or the Great Hoste," he began. "A blood-red tide of seeing blades, led by a great beast." He then pointed to the next card. "Abominus or Hound. Unliving but undying. it claws at reality's gate. After that is Apocalyptus Est, otherwise known as the Shattered World, Devastation. Annihilation. The future reeks of a cataclysm in the making. And lastly…"

Rhacelus took a deep breath. "Lastly…De Imperator Invertus or God-Emperor Inversed it represents the Imperium's end. The fall of humanity's empire." She looked into Weiss' eyes, his look haunted. "Something terrible is coming," he told her. "A catastrophe to herald a new stage in the Long War."

"How can you be sure?" she asked, still not convinced.

"Because…" Rhacelus said, "it was the Tarot that foreshadowed the Devastation of Baal. That is how I know these cards speak the truth."

"Have you told the Chief Librarian?" she asked, frightened by what he was telling her.

He shook his head. "I have tried, but the Chief Librarian, as ever, is being most difficult to contact at this moment. He has apparently been holed up in his chambers since we left the Ire."

Weiss frowned. "What is he doing?"

Rhacelus sighed. "I wish I knew, I wish I knew…" He looked off into a nearby window up to Saiph's moons, at Azalam. "There's a darkness in our blood," he told her. "A blight that lives within every son of Sanguinius no matter their chapter, be it Blood Angel, Fleshtearer, or Angel Numinous all carry the black of rage in our souls. It is a reminder and an omen of our future. Calistarius is no different, for his burden is greater than most."

"Why do you always call him Calistarius?" she asked. When Rhacelus spoke of Mephiston directly, he never used his name even in his presence. He always called him 'Calistarius' for some reason.

He turned his head to look at Weiss once more. "That is his name, or at least the name he once went by before he adopted his current moniker. If you had seen him during those centuries, I am sure you would not recognize the man he had once been."

"What changed?"

"He did the impossible," he said grimly. "He overcame our greatest weakness, he overcame the rage. And what crawled out from Hades Hive was something more, something worse… It was no longer Calistarius but something wearing his skin, that is what Mephiston is."

Rhacelus's facade had crumbled. It revealed a centuries-old grief. Grief for a friend long gone, but also not. It would persist to torment him so long as he or the Chief Librarian lived on.

"I…"

"Do not," he breathed. "Please, do not. I see your thoughts and I know what you wish to say, but please don't." Rhacelus tore his gaze away from the night sky. "Dark times are coming Weiss Schnee, our enemies grow bold in their machinations and we must be prepared for when they play their hand. Whatever the Tarot has told me this night, we must be ready or we will have lost before we can retaliate." He then knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

+Do not tell anyone of what we have spoken this night,+ he sent to her mind. +Calistarius trusts you, and while I do not agree with his reasoning, you are still his equerry. I am trusting you to keep our words a secret from all. None besides you, I, and the Chief Librarian shall know.+

"Even Commander Dante?"

+Even Commander Dante,+ he said heavily. +He will eventually be told in time, but we must divine the skeins of fate further. The burden Lord Guilliman has placed on his shoulders is already heavy enough. We have no reason to worsen it without good reason.+

She nodded before making the sign of aquila. "Very well," she said. "I shall make sure to keep my mouth shut. On this you have my word, Lord Rhacelus."

Rhacelus smiled. "Have a good evening, Equerry, and may the Emperor and the Great Angel protect us all."

Shutting the doors behind her, Weiss slumped her shoulders as she processed all that the Epistolary had told her this night. War was coming.

But it was always there… she realized.

Since she had entered into Mephiston's service, she had been a part of this war, the Long War, the eternal struggle for mankind's soul. Her time aboard the Ire had not only made her rusty with the blade, but ignorant to the true state of affairs beyond the metal bubble she had lived in for months.

She would need to prepare herself.

She had become a huntress back on Remnant to protect people, knowing she would likely die in her duties to protect the kingdoms and its citizens. It was the reason she had left her family and forsaken her riches to attend Beacon. The reason that had driven her these last two years. But as she looked at her life, now, she only saw someone who had strayed away from her oath and let others die for her continued opulence.

That could not stand. Who was she to decry the Astartes and their brutality when they did more to protect the Imperium and its people than her? Even that ghoul Mephiston did more to protect the innocent than her!

Turning to Andy, her eyes burned with motivation. "Andy," she spoke to the servo-skull, "send a message to Giulia, tell her that I wish to lengthen our training sessions."

"Message sent," the servo-skull sputtered out.

Satisfied, she stepped out of the Spira Vetiti, as Weiss did she noticed something in her pocket. Her eyes widening upon seeing it Weiss dropped it. It was a tarot card!

But how?

She didn't remember taking any from Rhacelus' deck. But here it was. Carefully picking up the card she found it depicting a knight in silver armor with a red cape and a great blade in their hands. On it, it read 'Knight of Concordia'.

"Pure of heart, their blade a righteous tool of justice," she whispered as she remembered what the card stood for.

Turning her eyes towards the night sky, she found that Daw' had disappeared with only Azalam visible to the naked eye. A new age of darkness had begun and Dromlach now demanded war of them all.​

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