Waking to light streaming in through a window and the sound of an alarm blaring the blonde teenager yawned. Hitting the alarm clock he slipped out of bed and took a moment to stretch. White wings spread wide behind him as he reached for the heavens. He let out another yawn and padded over to the attached bathroom. Teeth and hair brushed, face washed, and a change of clothes later he was ready to head downstairs. Opening his door he almost collided with someone and jumped back. A light chuckle had him pouting up at the redhead on the other side of the door before his face split into a broad smile. "Blaine!" One hug of brotherly affection later and the two were heading downstairs together.

"Father said you're in an accelerated program now?" The blonde beamed. "I challenged the exam for the first year course." The redhead's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. "See? Always knew you were the brains of the family." With a half smirk he ruffled the blonde's hair, who protested and swatted his hand away.

They continued walking in silence until they reached the dining room. "Good morning mum." Giving the woman a kiss on the cheek he sat down beside her. Pulling out a chair on the opposite side of the table his brother sat down hesitantly. "Will father be joining us?" The blonde woman smiled and the man relaxed. "He should be down in a minute." Lately their mother's mental health had taken a turn for the worse. He wondered if she'd said something odd to his brother. It would explain why he'd hesitated to sit down. "How are my two wonderful boys?" Her voice was sweet and filled to bursting with love and pride. His brother's face flushed and he looked embarrassed. Droy chuckled. "Just fine, mum. I'm going to Dr. Samuel's clinic after school. There are some new kittens that need looking after and a black lab that came in with a nasty cut. He seems lonely without his owner around." She pet his hair gently. "Such a kind boy I've raised." Then she turned to Blaine.

"Oh, well, I'm just back for today. I have some work to do at the nearby base and Father pulled some strings so I could visit." It was rare that their father, Brigadier Ackland, would use his authority in that way. If anything their Father was even harder on Blaine than anyone else. He wanted his eldest son to work hard and earn everything the hard way. The man was not a fan of nepotism and actively looked down on anyone who got their post due to a family connection. "Maybe you can help me in the garden today. Wouldn't that be lovely?" Blaine smiled. "Of course mum."

"Good morning." Standing up immediately his brother gave a perfect salute, which had their mother sighing in exasperation. "Good morning, Sir." The man who entered the room was wearing a well tailored suit, clean-shaven, with short cropped dark brown hair, and deep blue eyes. The lines on his face made him look stern but his eyes were filled with pride and a subtle kindness. "At ease, son. There's no need for that at the table." His brother gave him a cheeky smile before plopping back in his seat. Droy couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, though he tried to hide it. "Honestly, you two." His mother huffed.

As they were served breakfast and began to eat Blaine and their father began talking about the antics of the new recruits or the effectiveness of that new gun. Eventually they would get to talking about hand to hand techniques again. While this made his mother shake her head and practically roll her eyes, Droy found it interesting to hear them talk, though he didn't understand half of what they said.

Finished with breakfast he gathered his school things and said his good-byes for the day. "I'll see you around Christmas." His brother said, ruffling his hair again.

Opening the door his mother stopped him, her eyes going unfocused as she embraced him like she would never see him again. "I'll miss you dearly. But you have important work to do. Just know that I love you and will always be proud of you." Confused he patter her on the back, giving her a warm hug in return. "I know mum. I love you too. I'll see you when I get home."

When he shut the door that morning he felt a chill run down his spine. Shaking off the sense of foreboding he hopped in the car waiting for him and took one last look at the estate.

[POV Torvus]

It had been three whole days since the boy had fallen unconscious. The men who had witnessed the miracles he performed were on edge. Though nothing had changed in the soldiers demeanors there was a nervous energy permeating the air. Early the third morning after the boy fell into a deep sleep the camp surgeon submitted his report to the colonel and commissar in a closed meeting.

"Honestly, I'm a little baffled." The man's face looked torn between confusion and concern. "There's nothing wrong with him. His DNA is so perfectly normal it's uncanny." The man tapped the data slate and handed it over to the colonel who began to skim through the report. "I'd say he's more human than some of the men in the regiment. Which brings up the fact that he shouldn't have wings." This got him a raised brow from the commissar and he swallowed nervously. "What do you mean by shouldn't?" His shoulders twitched as if he'd aborted a shrug. "There's no genetic mutation that would cause the wings present in his DNA. They shouldn't be there. I even pulled a feather to test it. I mean, it felt real enough but it could just be some weird Psyker ability. " It was clear the man wasn't very familiar with Psykers. The colonel's frown deepened. "This says he's in some sort of hibernation?" The man nodded. "His breathing, heart-rate, blood pressure, and metabolism have all slowed to a crawl. It's like his body shut down to protect him from something. But I can't find any sign of corruption or illness."

Taking the data slate when Ravun offered it to him Commissar Torvus skimmed through the report. The boy was at least eighteen years of age, a shock considering his height, slight form, and young features. It didn't look as if he'd ever been subject to any kind of surgery or alteration. Peak health, except for the long shallow cut to his back when he'd been struck from behind with something sharp. Presumably the claw of the daemonette that attacked him. "You're right, this is uncanny." Torvus' eyes narrowed at the man, as if trying to detect any deception. He froze, eyes wide and sweat rolling down the side of his face.

"I'd like-" Before Torvus could finish his sentence someone was asking for entrance from outside. Colonel Ravun left the room to deal with whoever was foolish enough to disturb their meeting. Only to come back in, practically jogging. "He's awake."

That was all it took for the meeting to close. With the surgeon in tow they made their way to the medical tent. The major was already there, ordering onlookers back to their tasks. The moment Torvus came into view the men fled. Save for two. The sergeant from 6th company and his corporal. Although they stiffened and gave a proper salute it didn't seem as if they would be running away like the others. The colonel would have reprimanded them if there wasn't a more pressing matter at hand.

Entering the medical tent they found a medic practically pleading with the boy to stay seated, hands on his shoulders to keep him down. "I insist you stay here. Captain Miller will be back in a moment, you can ask him your questions then." A long sigh left the teen but he stopped struggling.

Coming inside the medic noticed them and immediately backed away, saluting as he did so. Clear blue eyes looked at the man curiously before quickly turning toward them. Commissar Torvus had never felt more inadequate than the moment their eyes met. His feet almost faltered as he stepped closer to inspect the boy. Quickly he slid off the table and stood upright, giving a decent salute for a civilian. The thought that he might have been mocking them didn't even cross his mind as he drew closer.

"Good morning." The teen smiled at him. "Good morning… er…" After a moment he frowned. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what rank to address you as. I've never seen your insignia before." This told the commissar two things. One, the boy had either been raised near, or learned from, imperial guardsmen. And two, he had never seen imperial guardsmen or a commissar in his life. This contradicted itself in a spectacular way, making Torvus mildly annoyed. "I am Commissar Tovrus, assigned to the 37th Meridian Infantry. Now who are you?" Though his words were harsh the boy didn't seem offended or cowed by them. Another anomaly. "I'm terribly sorry, Commissar. My name is Droy Ackland." The name itself didn't mean anything. But his lack of hesitation told him it was either his real name or a well crafted lie. Almost as an afterthought the boy hesitantly added, "younger son of Brigadier Lawrence Ackland." No one in the room seemed to recognize the name and the boy's shoulders drooped.

Clearing his throat Torvus continued. "What system did you come from? Are you local?" If he was from the surrounding area they might be able to find out more from the few civilians that had been saved.

"System? No, I'm not from around here. I have no idea how I ended up here. All I remember is heading home from the clinic. The next thing I know I'm waking up in a ruined building." This was getting them nowhere. "What planet are you from?" Blue eyes met his and he could practically feel the confusion coming off the teen. "Terra."

Silence filled the room. No one knew what to say in response to this. The boy didn't seem to notice the silence as he looked around the medical tent. "Do you happen to have a vox-caster I can use to contact home?" The sheer ludicrousness of that statement made the colonel splutter behind him. Torvus understood the sentiment. "Do you know how far from Terra we currently are?" The blonde shook his head. "We are currently in Aurelia, Sub-sector of Korianis in the Segmentum Ultima." The boy frowned. "I've never heard of any of those places." His voice sounded tight and his wings shifted, feathers puffing up in agitation.

Behind him someone scoffed, most likely the surgeon. Colonel Ravun looked about as grim as he did at this revelation. How could the teen know of Holy Terra, the very cradle of man, yet not know about the Segmentum? This brought up all kinds of red flags. Torvus was momentarily stunned by how ridiculous this situation had gotten. "A moment, Commissar?" Turning to Ravun he raised a brow at him but the man seemed to have an idea. Only their long-standing friendship kept him from reprimanding the man.

Walking just outside they spoke in hushed whispers. "I want to let Psyker Hughes take a look at him." The man in question was a theta level telekine that had been assigned to the regiment. Although he was generally a very depressing individual to be around his powers were invaluable. "If the boy's mind has been effected in some manner he would be able to tell." Torvus took a moment to think about the idea. If the boy were suffering some kind of mental disconnect the telekine would be able to piece together the truth. But if he was being corrupted by chaos it might very well kill their only Psyker. His mouth drew into a thin line and he assented to the idea. The pros outweighed the cons at this moment in time.

Coincidentally it seemed they were in luck. Junior Commissar Froederick, who had been assigned to watch the regiment's only Psyker, had returned from the front to switch places with his fellow junior commissar. Sending a runner to fetch the both of them the commanding officers waited outside the tent.

[POV Hughes]

Trudging alongside the junior commissar, who was eying everyone around him balefully, the young Psyker named Hughes sighed. Emotions were high in the camp and there was a strange buzz in the air. Every once in a while the flash of a faint psychic residue would catch his eye, making him do a double take, which only made the junior commissar even twitchier. Considering his thoughts were focused on his agitation it did not fill Hughes with anything remotely good. Luckily his thoughts were slowly shifting toward food and a nice, long, nap.

Turning toward the runner before the man even made it to them he walked toward the man calmly. "And where are you going?" Snapped Froederick. "The colonel is asking for me." He sighed. He'd been hoping to go find a quiet place to sit away from the strain of thousands of thoughts not his own but it seemed like an urgent request. "R-right. Colonel Ravun and Commissar Torvus are requesting your presence." It was most certainly not a request.

Before Froederick could ask him where they were headed Hughes answered. "The medical tent. You don't have to come if you don't want to." Froederick scoffed. He was most certainly coming along. Commissar Torvus had put him on Psyker duty, he wouldn't dare slack off.

When they arrived at the medical tent and presented themselves to the commanders Hughes could tell something was off. The air held a faint shimmer that distracted him so much he almost forgot to salute. "There's someone we'd like you to examine for any mental damage or deception." Though he needn't bothered speaking out loud, his thoughts were clear enough, Hughes knew why he did so. Entering the tent with the commanders he felt a fluttering in his stomach and nearly tripped due to his distraction. Standing in the tent was a blonde teen who just exuded a feeling of warmth. It was like being plunged into a warm bath after being outside in the cold for far too long. Beside him Froederick was giving off waves of confusion while the commanders were tensely waiting. Nearing the teen just made his aura shine all the brighter, like a golden halo of light surrounding him.

He could sense the teen's confusion but it was tempered by a naive innocence that was markedly out of place in the imperial guard. Placing a hand on the teen's shoulder he reached into the warp to call upon his abilities and was stunned by what he found. A beloved child to a caring mother. The younger brother to a man he thought the world of. The only son of a man he wanted to make proud. A student of medical sciences who focused on animals because his family was afraid his powers would be too obvious, and call too much attention. He was lost, worried about the men he had healed, scared of the daemons but filled with righteous fury at their existence. And strangest of all; he was a powerful Psyker the likes of which Hughes had never seen before. All around him the warp was ordered and almost peaceful in comparison. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. The feeling was nigh intoxicating.

Apparently his outward appearance must have shown the shock on his face as both the commissar and the colonel reached for their weapons. In a nearly breathless whisper he asked; "what are you?" The boy flinched, confusion and hurt coloring his thoughts.

Pulled forcefully away from the teen, who was giving off a kind worry that nearly made Hughes sob, he could finally feel the emotions of everyone else in the room again. They were grim, dark, and foreboding. Like a deep, damp, ravine. Worry, anger, confusion, and the words 'What The Fuck Just Happened' practically screamed at him from their minds.

"Can you hear me? Answer me, Hughes!" The colonel's voice brought him out of his near-trance as he finally put both of his feet beneath him. How he'd ended up being half carried by the nearby medic he had no idea. "Yes, Colonel. I can hear you." The lack of gibbering, speaking in tongues, or other craziness that came before a demonic possession, calmed the men considerably. "Are you alright?" The quiet question was almost lost in the midst of the chaos but Hughes heard it nonetheless. A smile crossed his face as he glanced over at the blonde. "I'm fine. Better than fine." He felt a hope in his breast he hadn't felt in a long time. It was refreshing, to say the least.

"Then report, soldier." The commissar barked at him, wanting answers. "His name is Droy Kristien Ackland, male, eighteen years old, a citizen of Great Britain on Terra. His father is a prominent military man, mother is possibly an untrained Diviner, and his older brother, adopted, is some sort of Pyromancer." Droy gaped at him in awe and he ducked his head so he didn't have to look directly at the shining aura. "He's from the year… 18.M3." The resounding feeling of denial this brought to everyone's mind was enough to make him dizzy. Some even questioned the validity of his statement and wondered if the teen had addled his mind somehow. "He couldn't even if he wanted to." He answered the unspoken question.

"Explain." Shaking his head a little so he could focus he turned to look back at the teen. "He's too focused on helping others to be malicious. Even now he's worried that he hurt me somehow. He isn't some warp monster or deamonhost. He's a human born on Holy Terra a very, very, long time ago." At this revelation he could hear the internal panic of the colonel and all of the implications running through the commissar's mind. Now that he was getting used to the strange shift from chaotic to ordered warp he actually found the teen's presence quite enjoyable. It was much better than being around the junior commissar, that was for sure.

"Are you positive he is not tainted by the forces of chaos?" He shook his head no. "He is actively repelling them. Like an anti-daemon ward." Admiration colored his voice and the teen blushed faintly even as he gave off waves of uncertainty.

"Excuse me?" Everyone turned to look at the blonde, who was becoming more agitated. "What is 18.M3?" Oops. The world he came from didn't have that dating system yet. "It is the year two-thousand and eighteen." The words made sense to the teen but it didn't seem he truly understood why this was strange. "So… it's still twenty-eighteen, right?" Hughes flinched. This would not end well.

[POV Droy]

The room was quiet again, too quiet. All around him were men in a mishmash of military gear and uniforms, carrying strange weapons he'd never seen before. Sure this could just mean he'd somehow ended up on the other side of the world in the middle of a war but somehow he didn't think that was right. The man nearby, who spat out all his information after touching him, was practically beaming at him. Like the sun had finally come into his life for the first time ever. It was really awkward to be stared at like that. The commissar he had been talking to looked grim but the man just behind him looked stumped. Off to his right he was being glared at by a younger commissar who was tapping the side of his gun holster. Out of them all he made Droy feel the most uneasy.

"I'm afraid that the year is no longer… twenty-eighteen." The commissar spoke woodenly, eyes boring holes into him. Wings drooping he crossed his arms, trying to steel himself. How long had he been away from home? Was there a way back? Was his family still okay? "Wh-what year is it? If I may ask…"

The commissar let out a sigh. "The year is 23.M41." Frowning he looked down at his shoes for a moment. If M3 was the year two-thousand then… Trembling he raised wide blue eyes to the commissar. "em-M41?" The man gave him a curt nod.

Falling to his knees he hit the ground hard. It was as if all the strength had left him at once. The year was 40,023. His mouth went dry and the world swam as he tried to come to grips with the fact that he was millennia away from his family and home. He was more than thirty-eight Thousand years into the future. "Th-that's impossible…" His voice was weak, even to his own ears. No. It had to be some kind of lie or trick. There was no way he had been swallowed up and just chucked out that many millennia into the future! "You're lying." Getting his feet under him he clenched his fists and glared at the commissar, trying to keep himself from having a full blown panic attack.

Everyone looked at him as if he were insane as he stood there defying a commissar. From his understanding of history a commissar was a military or political position in the old Russian army. But their guns were too strange for him to have traveled backwards in time. Droy would know, his father was a gun collector. He was getting a headache. This was way too confusing and unbelievable. "You need to calm down, son, you'll open the wound on your back."

Turning to the man who was probably the head doctor of the camp he deflated a little. The man looked worried for his wellbeing and his tone had been soft, like he was talking to a scared animal. He could feel the stinging in his back and knew the man was right. But the panic he was feeling just wouldn't go away. It bounced around inside him as his thoughts spiraled out of control.

What would happen to his family? When they noticed he was missing they were going to freak out. Did they spend the rest of their lives trying to figure out what happened to him? What about his mother? Some days he was the only thing that kept her calm and focused. Blaine would blame himself, he always did when something went wrong in the family. And his father… the man had a great capacity to love, though he hid it well. What would losing his younger son do to him? The world spun.

"He's going to faint!" It was the last thing he heard before he fell unconscious for the second time that week.