Sacrilege and Heresy

In the nightclub fortress of Afterlife, amongst the wild revelry and debauchery; a single unimposing figure lounged on a couch. At first glance, she would catch the eye simply due to her beauty, but everyone with half a brain on Omega knew the now infamous face of Lilith Thrillseeker; her playful smirk hiding an utterly depraved killer. That smirk grew into a devious grin as the grand form of Alice Millmour walked into sight, her grandeur being a stark contrast to the dancing and drinking forms down below them, her eyes burning with power and reverence towards her master. "Milady, you have summoned me to this wretched place for a reason I presume?" Her proud voice was dripping with distain towards the debauchery all around her, even going so far to take a half step back as the crawling form of Aria appeared behind her; gagged and deafened while she carried drinks on her back. "It still bewilders me that you keep that…thing near you, her Xeno form is disgusting." She paused to collect herself; despite her station, Lilith was still her master, her choices were her own. Before the temptress could reply however, a cloud of shadow burst forth from the entrance, swirling around the lounge and settling before the two women. It quickly solidified into familiar form of Boris Millmour, his sharp teeth and burning eyes being all one could see; booming laughter echoed around the crowded nightclub; almost overtaking the deafening music.

The insane sorcerer bowed to his master, an insane chuckle spilling from his needle like teeth; he was practically drooling at the sight of the former Pirate Queen of Omega bound on the floor. "If I had known this delectable creature was here, I would have come up here a long time ago." A disgusting jeer rolled out from behind his teeth as a black tongue licked his lips, his eyes rolling around as he tried to see everything the crawling Asarai had to show him; but remembering where he was, he snapped back to reality.

"I've called you here for a simple reason; I need you two to keep your little rivalry quiet, at least while I'm out. The last thing that needs to happen is you two having a gang war while your master is away." A condescending smirk filled Lilith's unnaturally beautiful face as she spoke to two powerful sorcerers who, if working together, they could probably kill her; like children. She knew that they'd never work together unless ordered to by Lilith herself; loyalty and mutual hate of each other keep the Twins bound to the Dancing Court, and Lilith continued to smirk as the sheer hate burned in the eyes of her subordinates; before both bowed their heads.

"Milday, where exactly are you going? It would be best if you continued to press down on the proles here, a show of strength is all these inferior beings will respect." The eldest Twin asked, her voice being kept surprisingly neutral; knowing quite well what happens if she spoke out of turn. The younger Twin nodded his agreement, if you could call the vague shadow bobbing around to be nodding; his bloodshot eyes narrowing slightly towards his sister. With her blue eyes flashing, the raven haired jezebel purred "I do believe the Citadel's Council is searching for my lost property, it would be best if I ensured that nothing goes wrong. It will be a nice change to make Xenos my little puppets; I do hope something entertains me, this trip has been quite boring so far."

With that, the trio of fiends began to scheme and plan, their depraved minds beginning to design tortures for their most unfortunate charges; the new rule being Don't Fuck with Lilith, she Fucks you.

Unbeknownst to the cabal of heretics, a small ship has made its way onto the cursed station; only three passengers on board, each with a grim if somewhat haunted expression on their faces. They had received their orders, recruit Arch Angel and Mordin Solus using any means necessary; and Commander Shepard was used to using whatever it took to sway people's opinions. The normally hard glare that burned from her green eyes was bloodshot and watery, as if she had spent many nights wide awake; the echoing laughter of her unwanted host burning inside of her mind. Pushing the red haired solider out of the way, Miranda marched into the squalid hall that awaited the three humans, her face kept in a composed mask; even as her eyes also showed the wear and tear of several nights of sleepless nights. As soon as they left their ship, a skittish looking Salarian was pushed out of the way of a very disturbing individual; causing the trio to take a half step back as the man approached.

He was inhumanly tall, brushing the ceiling of the dirty star port; his far too large mouth was filled with rows of razor sharp teeth, while his skin was scaly and seemed to shine in the dim light. Giant black orbs had replaced normal humanoid eyes that swallowed anyone staring at them, and his feet were cloven hooves. Bowing in a style that resembled a circus ringmaster, he spoke; his voice melodic and haunting.

"Ahh, you must be the infamous Commander Shepard; I was told that you had arrived. It's not every day a dead woman is seen kicking ass and taking names; so it's quite the honor to meet you." He purred, his clawed hands grandly gesticulating as he spoke, a grin tearing across his bizarrely featured face. "You'll need to have a little discussion with the boss's left and right hands; see it as a way of ensuring your…protection. It would be horrible if something were to happen to you three after all." His grin grew, especially as armed men drew their respective weapons in an utterly unsubtle way of getting their message across. As the armed group surrounded the trio, Jacob raised his rifle; although a glare from Jane stopped him from doing anything stupid. The group of Traitor Guardsmen shoved the trio of soldiers down the hall towards the entrance of the club known to their guards as Afterlife; it was here that their horrific greeter began to rattle off a speech.

"Here at Omega, we prefer to have our customers have whatever their little heart's desire and more; if you want some high class entertainment, then the Beau Monde Estate should be your destination. Since you're not Xeno, you'll probably be welcomed in easily enough; whatever you do, keep your head down and eyes lower, those high brows will kill ya for looking em in the eye. If ya want something more….carnal, then the Amsterdamned Club is where ya should go; nothing is too intense for that place. You have an itch, they got the scratch; good place for getting dirty little secrets too; you'll need to speak with Boris directly, don't bother about finding him, he'll find you. I'd recommend speaking with the man downstairs first, I find the Highborn to be unbearable asses; and they'd only take their heads outta their asses to notice ya if you did something real stupid."

As he was speaking, the armed group was leading the Commander and her compatriots down into the dingy halls of the Underhive; the sounds of revelry mixed with violence quickly filled the air. The filthy hallway seemed to go on forever the longer the group walked, the sounds getting louder and louder before their guide pushed them through the rusted door and locking it behind them. The heavily armed trio turned around and found themselves trapped in a Dionysiac nightmare. Members of all species were in various stages of debauchery, utterly abandoning all forms of common sense as violence and hedonism was spilling out towards the green eyed woman kept her Carnifex pistol at the ready as they began their descent into the utterly unhinged wing of Omega. The presence of firearms did little to abate to crowd that had quickly surrounded the three soldiers, if anything it excited them; many getting closer to the weapons and taunting their users. "Permission to fire Commander?" the snide voice of Miranda cut through Shepard's thoughts, the latter sneering a denial at the former. "Keep moving, we find the man in charge and either get something useful out of him…or we do it the fun way" A devilish grin began to grow on the soldier's face, and it only grew wider when a drunk would be thief tried to grab her.

The harsh crack of a gun going off was not unusual in Omega, the Underhive especially; it was the person firing that drew the eyes of one Boris Millmour from his den of vice and debauchery, his spies quickly rushing out see if his eyes were not deceiving him. The fanged mouth spilt into a debased smile as his information was confirmed. "Lure em down here, I want to see them….up close and personal." The hideous chuckle spilled out like so much bile as the deranged sorcerer suddenly stood from his chair, staggering into a back room. Unseen by his lackies, the now shaking hands of the youngest Twin tore open a bottle of pills and dumped several into his waiting maw.

Agony was starting to eat at his mind, phantom pains of his missing legs, pelvis and spine sent him sprawling onto the cold floor; his mouth forced open in a silent howl. With the pain came the darkest sounds of the two decade old youth could remember; the impacts still burned like the day he felt them, he fell flat onto his face as he remembered the spike being driven into his brain, knives being taken to his lumbar region. He tried to force himself back up to his feet, but his legs collapsed from out underneath him, causing his head to slam onto the metal floor.
"What more do you want from me!? I've given you everything and this is what I get in return? What more can I give to take this pain away? We made a bargain Dark Prince!" Before he could continue his rant, he felt a thousand agonies rip through his body; the pain of a soul being crushed under the boot of a vengeful god. As suddenly as it came, the pain left; allowing him to stand once more, the narcotics banishing the voices and agony alike. With a shuddering breath, Boris Millmour strode back into the deafening cacophony that was the Amsterdamned Club, his mind turning towards the green eyed woman that dared enter his domain.

"Keep going I said, don't fire I said; me and my fucking mouth" Shepard grumbled to herself as the firefight raged all around her. The insane cackling of the gunmen was only interrupted by the harsh cracks of firearms snuffing out their lives; and still they fired, their jeers and cries persisted throughout the cacophony. Grenades and biotics turned any who got close into so much stinking meat, when suddenly the laughing of the madmen flipped into screams of pain and panic as the brutal cracks of a unusually large weapon silenced them forever. Peeking out from her cover, Shepard's eyes widened as a towering figure in some form of armour loomed over the corpses, an almost comically large hand cannon clenched in one massive fist.

The giant gazed at her from behind a helmet that hid his features for what seemed like forever before nodding curtly and vaguely gesturing towards the trio to follow. "I don't trust him." Was the only response Miranda gave, while Jacob stayed silent, his eyes following the weapons of the armoured hulk that moved with startling grace despite his size. Scowling at her Cerberus counterpart, Shepard led the two trained soldiers behind their guide deeper into the shadows; the sounds of hedonistic pursuits only growing louder the longer they marched into the darkness. Finally opening a simple iron door, the trio found themselves in the middle of what could only be described as a mix of a jazz concert and a fighting pit.

As blaring classical music played from a bizarre swing band, various patrons seemed to be caught in drug fuelled brawl. Human and alien alike were trampling each other to get closer to the music, even as their eardrums popped open with a bloody splash. Their towering giant led the three soldiers around the boiling mass of violent life, his hand ever on the handle of his enormous pistol, warding off some of the vagrants that crowded around the new faces in their domain. They were led deeper and deeper into the roaring cacophony until they were roughly sat down at a massive gambling table; the only problem was that it seemed like the creator had decided to throw every single game possible onto one table. Cards, chips and alien looking objects were placed down and removed just as quickly; gunshots and raucous laughter filled the room as horribly deformed humanoids quite literally gambled their lives away. A billowing cloud of smoke drew the eyes of all at the table as a black gloved hand rolled a pair of dice before chuckling to himself; the rest of the table seeming to freeze in anticipation.

Shepard's eyes widened slightly at the man, if man he was sitting in front of her; his face hidden by writhing shadows while his bulging eyes glowed evilly at all around him. The armed guards that surrounded their host had their various firearms aimed directly towards the three Cerberus operatives before the man raised one hand. "Now, it's not every day that a dead woman shows up among the living. I'm almost flattered that you had to show that fine ass of yours in my neck of the woods…almost." The twisted humour in his voice dropped as soon as it entered, rising from his chair and slowly walking towards the trio, a still smoking cigar in one hand and a bottle in the other.

Mockingly bowing, the unseen features seemed to twist and churn like liquid as the fanged mouth curved into smirk. "I have many names, but you can call me Boris. And what brings you down here, if I may be so bold as to ask?" Chuckling darkly, the dirty fangs held the cigar in his mouth as black fire burned out of his fingertips; his sleazy smirk still plastered on the void that was his face.

"Mordin Solus, we're told you could find him; so stop drooling and fucking help us". The snide and irritated tone of Shepard's voice had the formerly riotous club dead silent, even as the looming Sorcerer walked towards the red haired renegade. His eyes seemed to bulge and writhe as he gripped Shepard's face with one hand, the other still holding the burning cigar; for a long moment he did nothing, blowing putrid smoke into her face. Then he threw his head back and laughed, causing his cronies to quickly follow suit and the music to continue. "Been a long time since someone's had the balls to talk to me like that, it's always 'please don't skin me alive sir' or 'I'm begging you, please don't use my wife as a living ashtray milord'. It's fucking annoying is what I'm saying; so since you've amused me, I'll let you know where that little weirdo is. In exchange, you two owe me a favour." The smirk only grew wider as he ogled at the two female killing machines in front of him, a black tongue licking invisible lips.

"Oh, and before your heavily armed friend acts all offended; I did notice him, I just don't care" A chuckle escaped his lips before waving one of his guards away and returning with a note. "Your friendly neighborhood doctor has set up shop in the quarantine zone; some stupid notion of being a decent person or something like that. I'll be cashing in my favour soon enough my little tinker tailor soldier; you just lock step that tush over there and get yourself all bloody. Try and fuck me over, and you'll get real acquainted with the business end of a bolt pistol capiche?" The gallows humor in Boris's voice echoed in Shepard's ears as she stalked out of that deafening club; her grip tightening on her rifle, she had a job to do, and a woman's work is never done.

Tuchanka

Daine Esmond glared out towards the landscape in front of him; his binoculars covered in the fine green sand blowing around in the howling wind. His unit had been sent down into the hell hole known to the galaxy as Tuchanka to fight something that had the Krogan desperate enough to call for help around a week ago. The moment they landed, the dead had risen to assault their lines, corpses acted as land mines buried inside the cracked ground; and the endless swarms of insects plagued them constantly and brought horrific sickness with them.

The rumbling of treads sent the older man snapping back to reality as a particularly hideous looking tank crashed over the carpet of bodies and spent casings before stopping right before the lines of hastily thrown defenses. For an unbearably long moment, nothing happened, then the hatch was thrown open; allowing the man inside to stick his head out, in that moment Daine had wished he never joined the military all those years ago.

The man's head was horribly deformed, with two eye stalks poking out of a corpse like face, a second mouth sprouting out of his right cheek and a third vestigial arm growing out of his side. He waved a battered chunk of cloth that could have possibly been white a very long time ago; a smile literally splitting the sides of his already strained face, a pelt hat perched atop his skull. Daine, alongside his unit had their Avenger assault rifles towards the nightmarish abomination; even as he popped out onto the blasted earth, a sickening crunch being heard from his legs as he did so. Saluting the confused and horrified soldiers, the Mutant began to speak, his voice a ghastly wheeze that rattled out of a torn throat. "Attention Xenos and unbelievers; my master, the mighty Loimos Rotgut wishes to speak of a…ceasefire." He rolled that last word out like it was an utterly alien concept to him; his face contorting uncomfortably before continuing. "We have an encampment in what is known to you as the Hallows; we've had to move after the Krogan burned our last one. Be there in three days or we will happily crush you under our boot. Good day!" With that, the hideous Mutant scrambled up the side of his transport and began rumbling away before anyone could really say anything; a disgusting cackle echoing away into the howling wind.

The Chimera APC groaned and rumbled through the blasted landscape; the Machine Spirit trapped within howling in agony and madness alike as it was twisted into serving the Plague Father's servants. The driver hummed to himself as he worked the controls, his dozen fellow mutants cramped inside; their chants of devotion to their generous deity echoing throughout the interior. The Mutant known to his fellows as Raphael Badun paused in reverence as the hoarse voice of Akakios Blightspewer suddenly echoed in his mind. "Faithful Servant, the Krogan are moving to assault the encampment; it is your holy duty to attack them as soon as you can to draw their attention away from our counterattack. This is your Nurgle given duty my son, do not fail!" As quickly as the message came, it faded away, yet the Mutant suddenly knew where he had to go; his comrades asking no questions as to the sudden change of course.

Taking the Hallows had been in part a defensive choice, part psychological; that was something his superior officers kept repeating to their troops. His mind turned to his comrades in arms and since their destination was still a long ways away, Badun turned one of his eye stalks to look at his comrades inside the Chimera; only a few of them remaining after their decades of war against the despotic Imperium. There was the hunchbacked form of Adam Miller, his four arms clutching his lasgun tightly; as he wore the same tattered miner's fatigues from all those years ago. The wings of Brice Aodh were flapping around in a nervous twitch, his beaked face jittering as he attempted to calm himself down; his grenade launcher in clawed hands. The mad laughter of James Koch was quickly overtaking the prayers and chants; much to the annoyance of all in the Chimera, his single eye flashing with unfiltered Warp born might. The newcomer was the Aspiring Champion sent to lead them into battle, a massive brute of what was once an Ogryn, now a six headed behemoth. He spoke little only that his name was Ogg Blood 'ead; and his orders were to be followed.

The sound of a grenade slamming against the hull of the Chimera quickly drew the Mutant back to his current situation; the barking of orders from Ogg to fire back. Brice Aodh popped open the hatch to begin firing the twin linked heavy bolters, his shrill cackling being drowned out the rattling of the deadly weapons. The remaining troops began returning fire with the internally mounted Lasguns, their chanting only rising in volume and intensity as their enemies began to fire back in greater numbers; explosives and bullets cracking against the hull of the Chimera. Ogg Blood 'ead gripped his massive power sword before howling praise to the Plague Father, charging out of the now lowering rear doors, meeting the brawny Xenos head on. The sounds of screaming and the ripping of flesh only increased the cacophony surrounding the thirteen men; and Raphael caught one particularly large Krogan wearing blood red armour aiming a missile launcher towards the turret.

Before he could cry out, the missile was already flying, the screaming payload causing the munitions to explode soon afterwards, sending the remaining men scattering out of the now flaming wreckage. The world had turned into a blurred screaming landscape for Raphael Badun; even as he spied the hunchbacked form of Adam Miller through the fog of pain; firing his Lasgun even as his body was riddled with bullets and shrapnel alike, his only response was grunts and returning fire. A screaming crescendo heralded the attacks of James Koch; the howling madman was sending bolts of lightning crashing into the enemy even as his flesh warped and bubbled. A Krogan Battlemaster hurtled towards the jabbering Psyker, and the diminutive man barely had enough time to look up as a shotgun shell pulverised his skull, reducing it to a red stain on top of a twitching lower jaw.

The Battlemaster was sent flying off his feet by the Champion, his many heads screaming their defiance despite the fact he had lost his left leg and was using it as a secondary bludgeoning tool. Shotgun shells slammed into corpse like blubber, while acidic bile turned armour into sludge; all the while they hacked into each other with blades, laughing madly all the while. By the time Badun hoisted himself back onto his feet, what remained of the Battlemaster was a pile of red sludge with bones that were quickly melting away. Out of the six heads that Ogg Blood 'ead had before the duel, only two remained with the others being reduced to patches of crushed brain and jagged bone scattered around his shoulders.

The titanic form of the Aspiring Champion swayed on his singular leg for a moment before shoving the mangled limb back into the socket and continued charging into the chaotic battlefield, his howling cries jolting the stunned Raphael back to action. Grabbing his heavy stubber, the three armed Mutant followed his Champion's lead, screaming a cry to Nurgle as explosives and bullets rang out in the howling wind; while the sand drank the blood as greedily as it would water.

The hardy Krogan were many things; strong, bull headed and maybe a little bit insane. But even the Blood Pact had enough sense to run when the howling form of Ogg Blood 'ead slammed through the screaming Vorcha and bellowing Krogan; spilling corrosive bile and hacking with his Power Sword at anything that moved. Despite the bullets that would have felled many of the Plague Father's children, a Plague Ogryn is anything but a normal servant. The simplest touch of those lumbering titans could liquefy flesh and bone instantly, and Ogg was doing much more than simply touching them. Despite the horrific ways their comrades were being slaughtered around them, the Krogan kept pushing forwards, their grim determination being met with the unholy fortitude of those blessed by Nurgle.

Raphael's eyes darted around as what remained of his squad being cut down one by one until only himself and Ogg remained, the latter being all too oblivious to his very possible demise; his cheering cries being interrupted by his Ripper Gun. The three armed Mutant risked a glance at his lumbering companion, his eye stalks widening as the Plague Ogryn was mutating before his very eyes. His rotted flesh was hardening into a molted carapace, while the Aspiring Champion began to grow spines out his spine; the Mark of Nurgle on his multiple foreheads were burning with unholy light. The Champion's swelled as a gargantuan sack of green pulsating flesh formed out of his pack; a multitude of forms already inside. A bullet punctured the sack and released the horde of howling flies into the air, descending upon a small group of Krogan who were attempting to flank the sons of Nurgle. As the Xenos screamed in agony, Rapheal allowed himself a chuckle at their agony, seeing Nurgle's love firsthand; and in a moment of madness, he rose out of his cover to get a better look.

Badun was sent sprawling as a large hole was punched through his stomach; green bile spewing out of his mouth and his fetid intestines began pumping a disturbing amount of insects into the blasted ground. Pulling himself onto a nearby rock, the Mutant's eyes widened at the sight that lay around him; the jeering forms of the Xenos all around him, their laughter echoing in his half deaf ears. Only the looming form of the Champion kept them from charging into melee, their bullets slamming into that wall of rapidly hardening chiton; his returning laughter turning blood to ice water. As the brutal Xenos were beginning to move towards their outnumbered and wounded prey, the rattling of an Autocannon quickly heralded the nearest Vorcha becoming a pile of screaming meat.

"Behold Xenos, your death has come." A simple vox grill distorted voice boomed across the cacophony; Halaphus the Painless was slowly lumbering his way into the battlefield, his rusted chassis spilling foul liquids and Nurglings alike onto the ground. The rumbling of Chimera treads, Sentinel Walkers and Valkyrie Gunships broke the already tenuous morale of the Blood Pack troops, but escape was denied to them as the Children of Nurgle gave no quarter. Lasguns going full auto scorched flesh black; bolters send brain and bone flying into the cracked ground. The sounds of death and agony was praise of the highest caliber to the Plague Father; and Raphael bowed his head in reverence as a Vorcha collapsed in front of him; scarabs devouring his eyes even as he waited in agony to die.

The massive church bells of Akakios Blightspewer reached the ears of Blood 'ead, causing him to roar praise to Nurgle and charge forwards, his blade hacking at anything that moved as he laughed all the while. Blightspewer and his Pontifex Guard were seen at the frontlines, rot and festering decay spreading across any exposed flesh that the swirling clouds of flies could find. Anything that got too close to the ancient sorcerer was hacked to pieces by the zealous bodyguards, their chants of devotion only increasing the frenzy of all nearby as this group of Blood Pack was completely on the receiving end of. Raphael was hoisted to his feet by Blood 'ead, throwing him back into the mopping up of the would be attackers, a malign glee utterly filling him as he continued his task, the chanting blocking out the screams and howling of agony; floating away on a cloud of euphoria.

Omega: Quarantine Zone.

The slums of Omega could certainly not be called safe or clean by any stretch of even the most diseased imagination; illegal activity thrives in the darkness, even as the Underhive stretched ever downwards into the infinite blackness of that damnable station. The wretched and desperate had been forced to live here, even as the Blue Suns forced the populace to pay a "protection tax" that would make any mobster proud. The plague that had only recently set into the area did very little to change things in these squalid depths, merely making things slightly worse; even then it wasn't the plague itself that was dangerous, it was the people left behind. Those left behind were broken into three groups; the innocent, the looters, and worse; the first group were almost entirely crammed into Mordin's clinic, nursing injuries and suffering from the plague. The looters were scattered around the subsection, poorly armed and greedy; a combination which allowed them to be quickly put down by the three Cerberus operatives. And what worse was let to be seen, but the majority of the looters were all nursing wounds that were unlike anything Shepard had ever seen before.

The wounds looked like something had tried to simultaneously tried to drain the blood of the looters and eat them; the gaping gash on the backs of the now dead Batarian raiders looked fresh, even as Mordin's assistant Daniel looked at the scowling Shepard with horror and fear in equal measure. His complaints and protests faded away as the heavily armed red head paid him no mind, her hand gripping her Carnifex Hand Cannon tightly. She almost smirked as her headache faded as soon as the jabbering young man shut up; funny how violence always seemed to solve her problems.

Sending the disgruntled youth back to the clinic, the trio made their way to the environmental control area, ready to kill some Vorcha, Shepard beginning to chuckle to herself; it was the battlefield that she was truly happy, away from having to listen to the Council's inane rambling about the "proper procedures" and the "Diplomatic process" "Liars, cheats and cowards, the lot of em" the grinning veteran thought to herself as they walked through the door to the control area.

There were Vorca everywhere, crushed into corners, turned into paste against the walls and some torn to pieces and scattered across the room. That didn't unnerve Shepard, she had seen far worse in her years fighting and in her vague pseudo memories of limbo; no what unnerved her was what had killed the Vorcha in the first place. It was a towering pile of bubbling flesh, tendrils and claws pulling itself along the dirty floor; multiple misshapen lumps of meat that could barely be called heads stared at the three soldiers and began wailing at deafening tempos. With inhuman speed, it shot forwards, its bulk doing little to slow it down as twisted limbs lashed out wildly. Scattering out of the way, Jacob began peppering the insane abomination with his rifle, incendiary ammo leaving burning holes where their deadly payload punched through flesh. Miranda launched a miniature black hole near the beast, causing chunks of meat and bone to be ripped away even as claws dug into the floor; its screams only becoming louder with fresh agony.

Shepard herself simply stared coldly at the monster before her, the shouts of her companions fading into so much white noise; the screams of insane laughter becoming static. The creature should not exist, that she knew without a doubt; yet here it was. The ruthless solider chuckled in disbelief as a tendril sent Miranda flying through the air, crashing into a pile of offal that had once been a Vorcha; Jacob had been crushed between a wall and the mindless creature, its many mouths trying to bite the Cerberus Operative even as he continued to shoot it.

"Our weapons aren't worth shit to this thing." Was the singular thought she managed to complete before she was sent careening into the door she entered from, the dull crunch of her skull hitting metal being quickly followed by blinding pain. Her vision exploded into a crimson blur as she fired blindly into the mass of meat that had now turned its attention towards her; her fellow operatives lying on the ground as their injuries had all but paralysed them. A single barbed tendril loomed over her head, as dark as death's shadow; time seeing to freeze; and in those moments, Maria Shepard finally knew dread. "I can't die here, I came back from the fucking dead and I die in this shithole of a station, killed by a screaming pile of shit?" The absurdity of the situation almost brought a ghost of a smile to her scarred face, but paused as she realized that not only had time actually stopped, but someone was laughing.

An old man wearing a tattered top hat with dirty reading glasses walked up to the stunned soldier, seeming to walk through the monstrosity that loomed over her. As he looked down, his burning green eyes bored down into hers, a smirk on his greying features. "Well, I knew that I'd be seeing you again, but I didn't think it would be this soon." His two toned voice still held that morbid humour that haunted Shepard's dreams, raising her Hand Cannon she pointed it to the man's head. "The fuck's going on? What the hell is that thing, who the fuck are you?" She voice, which had once cowed a Krogan into submission; did nothing to intimidate the man, if man he was, in front of her; only making him laugh. "One, you are stuck in the moment of your death by me so we have a little heart to heart chat; two, that thing is a Chaos Spawn, a failed servant of one my brothers. Given the stench of hedonism in the air, I'd say this particular fellow pissed off Slaanesh in some way; shame that is. And three, well not to blow my own horn, as you kids say; but I have many names. But to you, call me…Grandfather, I'll be here whenever you call me; but since I'm here how about I do you a favour and help you get rid of this little annoyance for you eh?"

Before Shepard could think about an answer, let alone say anything; the old man snapped his fingers and vanished into thin air, and the tendril came slamming down. The redheaded solider suddenly shot forwards, abandoning her weapon entirely in favour of her bare hands; grabbing the tendril and pulling towards her; the woman's eyes widened slightly as she noticed that her hands were bulging with green veins, her body being filled with unholy strength. As her nails dug into bubbling flesh, her veins burst and a brackish fluid spilled into the open wound; turning the afflicted limb into a bloated lump of meat in mere moments. Shepard numbly noticed the lack of pain she felt, even as her body was torn apart and restored in moments; her mind watching her flesh becoming an unnatural killing machine.

With a simple tug, the tumefied tendril ripped off with a disgusting wet tearing noise; the Chaos Spawn's screams becoming a maddening crescendo as further swelling began bursting out from its body, large bulging sacks of meat burst into swarms of flies that devoured any flesh around it. The Spawn began falling apart at the seams as more and more of the daemonic insects eat the insane creature alive, inch by inch; nerve by nerve. It only took around half a minute for the thing to be fully devoured, but the screaming drew it out to feel like an eternity. Finally, nothing remained but the flies and even they turned into dust as their purpose was completed, leaving only the echoing laughter of her unwanted and unexpected patron in her ears. Almost in a dreamlike state, she finished her job, saving the station; even as the laughter only seemed to grow louder; ever deeper and the buzzing of flies drowned out save that damnable laughter. Her vision grew dark and the supposedly indomitable Commander Shepard was unconscious before she hit the floor.

….

"She's increasingly unstable, picking fights with random drunks on the way back, flirting with some…less then reputable Asarai and drinking heavily. She seemed perfectly fine; even after whatever it was that attacked us on Lazarus Station. She's getting worse sir, and if she loses control-

"Enough Miss Lawson, Shepard will be fine. Call it a hunch, but I believe that she'll be able to pull through this; you just have to give her the right motivation. Do whatever it takes to keep her going; Humanity will need her to survive." Cutting the connection, the Illusive Man stared out at the stars, his mind racing with questions and possible answers to his problem. "If this falls apart, then Cerberus will have to do this the hard way. I need a way to fix this" His thoughts were interrupted by whispers that seemed to fade away the second the leader of Cerberus concentrated on it. They grew louder and louder until a single voice broke through the cacophony, sounding wise and ancient. Out of the corner of his eye, a figure loomed over the now seemingly insignificant man; one that had looked like a nightmarish avian, a devious smirk on its face. "You want help little man? Let us parlay, I hope you have something to interest me."

The Illusive Man's eyes snapped open and looked around, the figure gone as if it was never there, all that reminded the secretive demagogue of his sanity was the azure symbol burning into his hand; and the screeching laughter in the back of his mind.

….

Hello Heretics, Cultists and other fugitives of Imperial justice; I am deeply sorry for the long wait; work and writer's block was kicking the shite out of my muse. I hope you all can forgive me.

As always, stay classy, stay awesome and have a lovely day.