Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.
So here is the next chapter, which is kind of filler, I will admit.
Also, would like to ask if you could check out my new fanfiction 'Mean and Green'
*Cough* Shameless self promotion *cough*
Anyways, hope you enjoy!
The five grenadiers ran through the ruined streets, passing the group of petrified skeletons, a mother and her children, holding each other. They were relics of a war long fought, and now their statues still remained. While many were completely vaporized in the atomic blast, a rare few suffered a far worse fate in certain areas, becoming completely covered in fallout and ash, coating their skin like magma. Petrification.
The grenadiers slowed their movement, coming to a rusty and rotten church door, leading to the chapel within. They pressed against the wall of the church on either side.
Klaus held up his hand, holding his hellgun in his other hand, as he took a peek through the shattered, and stained church window. The opposition was nowhere to be seen. However, it felt quiet… too quiet.
He muttered to himself, his gasmask heaving as he breathed, as he walked up to the front of the door. Instantly, two grenadiers peeled off from the wall, kneeling down onto the dirty and charred pavement, pulling their weapons up. One lasgun, and one plasma gun. Klaus kicked at the door with all of his strength. His prosthetic helped with the job considerably, and it proved so, as it became lodged within the rotting wood. Immediately, bullets rang out, pelting through the wood. Klaus felt one of the slugs smack into his breastplate, and he freed his leg, as the whole gate came crashing down. Mutants. Disgusting, filthy, mutants. He felt a hand grab him by the shoulder plate, and drag him away from the gunfire, as the two grenadiers by his side provided covering fire. Crackling beams of energy from the lasgun killed several of the mutants, while one plasma shot turned the unfortunate beast into a shower of cinders. They rolled out of the way of the peppered autogun fire, and the Grenadiers found themselves stuck together. Klaus sighed. He was technically the most experienced of the grenadiers at his command, so he began to give out orders.
"943275-129837 and 816320-835182, provide covering fire." He commanded, interrupted by a bullet getting him right in the side of his helmet. The impact panged against the metal, giving him a nasty bump on the side of the head. At least the Mutants did not have anything heavy.
"Me and 435612-983610 will advance forward, and kill as many mutants as possible. 173042-999842, give me a number count." He said, finishing his orders. 173042-999842 peeked through the hallway, and pulled back after a split second, a autogun round nailing him straight in his helmet crest.
"Twelve mutants, it seems, though more should be deeper within the chapel." He reported. Klaus nodded, as he glanced back at Karen, who was on the opposite side of the doorway. He noticed that her paper white hair was starting to peek out of her helmet. She needed a haircut, he noticed.
"Go." He simply said. 943275-129837 and 816320-835182 rolled into the doorway, and poured a hailstorm of sizzling red beams of energy towards the ranks of the mutants. The volley scythed through seven of them with virtually no trouble whatsoever, while the remaining five went into cover. Klaus and Karen ran between the pause in gunfire, as they slided into cover, Karen hiding behind a stone pillar, while Klaus slid right behind a collapsed pile of ruin. Not the best, but it had to do. As the mutants peeked up, the hail of gunfire from 943275-129837 and 816320-835182 over, it was his turn to reply. He aimed with his hellgun, said a quiet prayer, and pulled the trigger. The recoil pushed on his shoulder, as a burst of las bolts ripped a furry mutant apart, tearing apart its white and black skin. As he ducked down from the pour of gunfire that headed his way, Karen got up, and fired another volley of lasbeams, searing another mutant. Then as she ducked down, 943275-129837 and 816320-835182 fired from the doorway, killing the remaining mutants. Klaus and Karen rose up, pointing their weapons through the doorway that lead to the chapel itself. The three grenadiers behind them entered the lobby slowly. Klaus nudged his head to the mutant corpses. 943275-129837 nodded, and began to police the mutant bodies, giving them a quick kick. To the very few that still lived, they were rewarded for their tenacity with a quick bolt of energy. Finally, the last body was policed.
"Clear." 943275-129837 mumbled. Klaus nodded, as he waved the grenadiers forward. They began to slowly walk through the lobby of the cathedral. It was notably dark, as they had left the sunlight, and it was nearly pitch black.
"Light." Klaus ordered. 173042-999842 took out a lighter, and grabbed several rags from the floor, and wrapped it around a piece of metal debris. He then lit the rag. It slowly glowed, providing a soft orange glow in the pitch blackness. Klaus pointed to the door that had been revealed in front of them. 943275-129837 and 816320-835182 ran up to the door, crouching on each side of the old metal gate, while Klaus kneeled down infront of it. Slowly, 816320-835182 reached for the knob. Gunfire followed, and Klaus got out of the way, as bullets ripped through the rusty gate, making it fall. It revealed another part of the cathedral, where the remaining mutants must have been hiding out. Klaus had only took a glance, but he counted roughly thirty of the scum. This would be hard fought.
"Grenade." He ordered. Karen took out a frag grenade from her belt, and put it in his glove, as he pulled the pin, and threw it into the room. Garbled speech could be heard, as a second after, the grenade exploded. Shrapnel pinged throughout the room, and one small piece got lucky, and lodged itself within his prosthetic. Klaus glanced down at the now ripped pant leg, revealing the titanium prosthetic underneath. Bionics were of extreme rarity in the korps, as often, if you lost a limb, you would have lost your life soon after. Having a bionic was a symbol of honor, almost as honorable as rings.
"Go." He said. Karen and 173042-999842 opened fire at the dazed mutants, killing half a dozen of them in the first volley of gunfire, as Klaus and 816320-835182 ran into the room, firing with years of firing discipline. Not a single shot was wasted, and every one was aimed for their mark. While some missed, some hit, and those that did were brutal and gory. Limbs were severed, skin was seared, charred, and cooked, and bone was blackened and scarred. One of the mutants let out foul battle cry and charged, swinging a sharpened rusty cleaver. Klaus fired at the mutant without a second thought, but the mutant dodged the shot, engaging in melee. It swung the blade in a eviscerating motion that would have cut Klaus in half if he didn't move out of the way. The cleaver slammed into the floor of the cathedral, and it had become stuck. Klaus went out to punch the mutant, but it caught it, giving Klaus a good look at is face. Its eyes were reptilian in nature, with a black corona and a green pupil. It hissed, revealing a set of crooked and chipped needle like teeth, as it tossed him aside with inhuman strength. He was sent flying into a pillar, his hellgun ripping out of its tube. He growled, as he reached for his laspistol, and fired a quick shot at another mutant, who had taken this as an opportunity to find a new spot of cover. The lasbeam seared a direct hit on the mutants neck, boiling a hole through its dark skin. It collapsed, dropping its battered autogun. Klaus glanced back at the other mutant, who had yanked out its cleaver from the ground. It charged at Klaus, and Klaus knew that he didn't have enough time to get out of the way. So instead, he went right for it. The mutant's eyes widened in surprise, and then in rage, as Klaus tackled the mutant, sending the cleaver flying. Klaus unleashed several punches to the mutants face, and it snatched him by the neck. Klaus continued to kick at the mutant, as it raised him up, snarling. However, its arm became eviscerated at the elbow. It screamed in agony, grabbing its blackened stump, and snapped its head to the aggressor. Karen charged, using her lasgun like a club. It smashed into the creature's mouth, sending a gout of dark ichor and yellow teeth out from the mutants mouth. It was sent sprawling to the floor. Karen offered a hand, while Klaus shot the mutant in the back of the head, as it tried to flee.
Klaus nodded his head in thanks, an action that would have spoken volumes considering how often this had happened between the two. They had been through hell together, and nothing could have separated them.
"Clear." 943275-129837 said aloud, as he shot the final mutant, which had been crawling away on its three arms. Klaus took out a small device from his satchel, and pressed several buttons, and put it up to his mouth.
"The mutants have been cleared. Firing Practice operation 13451-2134BA complete." Klaus said casually. The vox crackled, as a voice came onto the vox.
"This is Commissariat 567213-997431. Good work Grenadier 652733-172948. Any casualties?" The Commissar asked. Klaus glanced at his squad, before he replied.
"No casualties, though we do have a broken hellgun." Klaus said, as Karen handed him his hellgun, which seemed to have suffered quite a nasty fall. The Commissar snorted, clearly unimpressed.
"Hm. I hope you know, 652733-172948, that the price of a hellgun is far more then your life. Pray that the Quartermasters do nothing more then chew you out... Chimera 55482 is enroute to training zone 671. Standby for pickup." The commissar replied. Klaus nodded, and shut the vox off, and stashed it into his satchel. The grenadiers formed a circle, and sat down on the cold floor, all breathing heavily.
"So 652733-172948, how close are you to getting your first term?" 943275-129837 asked casually, resting his back against a ruined pillar. Klaus did some calculations in his head.
"78 more days until I get to my first term." Klaus replied. The grenadiers nodded their heads.
"So you'll be getting your first ring soon, correct?" 173042-999842 asked. Klaus nodded his head. Rings were a tradition developed by the Fifth Siege Regiment to show veterancy. After every six years, a small white ring was painted around each of a soldier's lenses. Generally, the more rings you had, the more experienced you were. While a vast majority of ring bearers only made it to one ring, that was still somewhat impressive. Six years in the Imperial Guard, no less the Death Korps was quite a milestone. Many Watchmasters had two or three rings, and those who had four or five rings were considered demigods in their own right. For someone who had survived nearly 24 or even 30 years in the Korps had to have divine assistance, for it was nearly impossible.
One such Korpsman was 111782-990712 'Unsterbliche'. Unsterbliche was considered unkillable by many Korpsmen, if not all of them. He was the only living Korpsman to ever achieve eight rings. He had refused the promotion of Watchmaster, saying that 'I will never lead Guardsmen behind a wall, but in the front lines itself.' He had been promoted and demoted to a Grenadier at least twelve times, and his achievements were unsurpassable. He had fought a Khornate Champion in hand to hand combat with only a chainsword and won, hijacked a Riptide Battlesuit and killed the occupant with a single laspistol shot, and even resisted mental domination from a chaos sorcerer. He had even been investigated for heresy, as such resistance to the dark powers would have been fishy to any other regiment, but as he still lived to this day, to the death korps, it was simply normal. Rings were important to the Fifth, and Klaus would receive his ring with pride.
The circle was silent once again, as each grenadier sat perfectly still, their only movement being the heaving of their chestplates.
"435612-983610, how many campaigns have you had with 652733-172948?" 943275-129837 asked. Klaus glanced at Karen, who spared 943275-129837 a look, before she shrugged.
"Eight, I believe." She replied. One of the grenadiers whistled, though who did it, was unknown.
"Ever considered retiring for, well, procreation?" 816320-835182 asked. Klaus widened his eyes in surprise at the comment, while Karen merely giggled. Klaus could feel his cheeks turning a rosy color, and he was glad that all of their lenses were heavily tinted, otherwise they would have seen the embarrassment in his eyes.
"Well. Anything can happen." Karen replied, as she glanced at him. He could practically see her smile underneath her mask. They heard tracks rolling up, and the grenadiers picked up their kit and began to leave. Klaus thought about what 816320-835182 had said, and shrugged. Anything can happen. If only he knew how real that statement was.
/
"Klaus, were you even paying attention?" Lofn demanded. Klaus shook his head of the memory, his senses scrambling to figure out what was going on. This was right before he walked into the pole. His helmet smashed into the pole, making the sign creak above it. He hissed in pain, rubbing his helmet. He glanced at Lofn, and shrugged.
"I guess not." He said sheepishly. Lofn sighed, rubbing her face.
"Great, so when I ask you for a story, you go into great detail of how humanity is superior, but when you ask me for a story, you don't even have the decency to pay attention?" She said, her voice rather neutral, though Klaus did detect a tad bit of anger in her voice.
"Apologies. Was thinking of something." He said, somewhat sincerely. This made her smile slightly, and she glanced at the door in front of them. Soft music could be heard within the inn. A Hero's Welcome, as the inn was called. Odd name, but he came to the conclusion that Azeroth denizens were rather bad at naming things. Klaus opened the door, nudging his head inside. A gush of warm air blasted him, as he opened, and Lofn smiled, walking through the doorway. Klaus came in, and closed the door behind him. He took a long look at the inn in front of him. It seemed that it was late for the inn, as their were very few people in the tavern itself. Two people were at the bar, while one was playing the piano in the corner of the room. Two large stairwells led to another level of the Inn, though that wasn't really important. Klaus closed the door. A little bell rang as he closed the door, and he wiped his boots on the mat in front of the door. Lofn had already taken a table. Klaus glanced at a small rack that stood beside the door. It carried hats and the like. Bluddflagg would have loved that. Bluddflagg liked hats, and why, was a mystery to him.
Inside of his head, a massive mental war was being taken place. It was a battle of an unstoppable force meeting with an immovable object. On one side of the mental battlefield, was his conscious, his teachings, and his Id. They yelled at him, no, screamed at him, to turn back. Letting these xenos, psykers, mutants, hybrids live was one thing. But to engage in such an act was a heresy that was unforgivable! He was consorting with a hybrid, an abhuman! He was consorting with, making friends with, hell! Romancing, an abhuman? Did he want his children to grow into monstrosities, into MUTANTS? No! Turn back, turn back, and run while you can!
On the other side was a strange, foreign, almost alien presence, one that told him to continue this path, and told him that his Id, was wrong. This is not consorting. You are merely having dinner, with an acquaintance. You are not even going to touch her. All you are going to do, is eat, and have a conversation. Perhaps even a drink.
HAVE A DRINK? ARE YOU INSA-
Klaus shut himself out of his brain, taking a deep breath. He almost felt like something was scuttling around in his skull, and he shook his head from side to side. That seemed to do the trick. He sighed, as he walked over to the table, pulled up a chair, and sat down. The plates of armor dug into his skin, and Klaus almost considered taking his greatcoat off, if only for comfort sakes. At the thought of that, he could hear one of his inner selves quite literally screaming. It was starting to get annoying now. Klaus sighed, as he took off his gasmask, and took a breath. Here, the air was thicker, which was a small pleasure. Lofn was staring at him, with strange intensity, her hands balled into fists, placed underneath her chin. Her brown eyes poured into his own, and he shifted around uncomfortably.
"This should be interesting." A voice said, and he saw something move in the corner of his eye. Klaus glanced over to his left, and saw with surprise that Legion was leaning up against one of the pillars, his arms across his black breastplate. His bolter how hung on his belt, and his red eyes were gazing intensly at him. Klaus opened his mouth to say something, but Legion interrupted him.
"No one else but you can see me. Though the spellcasters could be able to detect my presence." Legion explained, before he waved one of his hands in Klaus's direction, almost casually.
"Now go on." He mumbled. Klaus gulped, glancing back at Lofn. She hadn't moved a single inch. Her eyes followed his every moment, and Klaus could feel a bead of sweat on his forehead. Klaus chuckled awkwardly, stretching the collar of his greatcoat as far as it could go, as if to let the heat that had builded up in his chest escape.
"So uh…" Klaus mumbled, finally breaking the silence. She shifted slightly, still giving him that intense stare.
"So how is it on a craftworld?" He blurted out. She shifted again, as she began playing with her hair, twirling a strand around her pale finger.
"It's good. The people there are nice… sometimes..." She said softly. Followed by another awkward silence, as Klaus twiddled with his thumbs. It still wasn't too late to back out. He could simply leave the table, get up, and go to his room in the inn. It was that simple really.
However, a wrench was thrown straight in the middle of his plans to make a break for it, when a woman walked up to them. Wearing a slightly stained white apron and brown leather clothing, the woman smiled, holding a small pad of paper, and a quill dipped with ink.
"What would you like to order?" She asked. It was only at this point that Klaus had actually noticed the menu that was placed in front of him. Lofn had pushed it to him with a soft flick of a finger. He grabbed the menu, and read through the choices.
"I'll have the soup." He decided, handing the menu to the woman. She glanced at Lofn.
"And you?" she asked. Lofn glanced at Klaus, before back at the woman.
"I'll have the salad." She merely said. The woman nodded, finishing writing the order (at least he thought) before she walked away. Klaus sighed. This was going to be a long night.
"So… have anything to share?" Lofn asked softly, glancing back at him. He scratched his head at the spot.
"I suppose… what do you want to hear?" He asked. Lofn shrugged.
"Anything I suppose." She merely said. Klaus sighed, as he prepared to tell a story. But she stopped him.
"Don't tell me a story. Tell me what's on your mind." She demanded. Klaus raised an eyebrow.
"Well… where to begin…" Klaus mumbled.
/
Skulltaker growled in anger, as its mighty hellblade swept through one of the Undead Creatures with pathetic ease. The ghoul screeched, as its legs were severed from its torso. The body of the ghoul fell to the ground, where Skulltaker grabbed it by the neck. It ripped off its head, and cast the bulbous thing aside. The Blood God would not even consider taking skulls from creatures so weak. It was pathetic, and Skulltaker was deeply angered. Sweeping his hellblade in a low slash, Skulltaker obliterated a score of charging zombies, and their bodies were quickly consumed by a torrent of warpfire, leaving only their charred skeletons.
"THESE FOES ARE PATHETIC." It roared in frustration, as it swept his sword in another blow, slaying another group of undead. The Librarian stood behind Skulltaker, hovering in the air, as it let out a cone of warp energy, that ripped the flesh off of the creature's bones, and turned them into vapor. Skulltaker was disgusted by this sorcery, and he absolutely loathed it. Skulltaker, loathed a lot of things, that did not involve killing. Skulltaker hated, loathed, and was disgusted by sorcery, and it so dearly wished to simply murder Vo'ndrath.
However, Khorne and Tzeentch had formed a pact, nearly impossible as it was. When Skulltaker was told by Khorne himself about the plan, Skulltaker was infuriated, enraged, and deeply angered. It was only by a bribe of killing Tzeentch's favored champion, which had gotten Skulltaker interested.
This pathetic scum was not even worth to be in his sight, as he butchered the remnants of the undead. He didn't even take a single hit, as he sliced the final skeletons chest into two pieces, sending the jumble of bones falling to the ground.
"WHAT IS THIS SICK JOKE…" Skulltaker demanded, snatching one of the corpses, displaying it with unhidden rage. Vo'ndrath grabbed the corpse, looking it over.
"I do not know my friend. However, one thing is clear. The Black Sorcerer is here on this continent." Vo'ndrath growled. Skulltaker glanced at the corpses around its feet.
"HOW DO YOU KNOW?" He growled. Vo'ndrath glanced at Skulltaker, before looking back at the ring of corpses.
"They bear his signature. Though I am not sure how he had done something like this, He controls these things." Vo'ndrath mumbled, poking one of the corpses with its staff.
"WHEN DO I GET TO KILL HIM." Skulltaker snarled in anger.
"Patience, U'zuhl. We will find the treacherous worm soon." The daemonic herald of Tzeentch replied as he looked at the desiccated body his "ally" had shown him. It was a member of one species native to the area, and looked like someone had taken a wolverine from ancient Terra and made it into a bipedal beast around the same size as an average human.
Looking through the pile of dead the Khornate daemon had slaughtered he saw more of these beasts, as well as some that looked like mutated frogs. He sensed some latent talent towards warpcraft in some of the corpses, more of the amphibians showed this talent than the wolverine looking beasts. A plan was born as it realized this, causing a cackle to break from its lips. "WHAT IS SO FUNNY, LIBRARIAN?"
"My dear Skulltaker," the herald of Tzeentch spoke in a tone that spoke of plots and schemes. "While we could carve our way through the traitor's ranks with ease, why should we waste our effort on such...unworthy foes?"
Khorne's general growled low in its throat, "WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN MIN, YOU FEATHERED WORM? EVERY MOMENT WE SPEND TALKING IS ANOTHER WASTED THAT I COULD SPEND IN SERVICE OF KHORNE!"
Vo'ndrath repressed an aggravated sigh, "As the bodies before us show, the traitor has been ramping up his 'recruitment' from amongst the locals…" Here he gestured at the mostly recognizable and not decayed bodies of the Wolvars and Gorlocs, "As the saying goes, what is good for one is good for another. We shall split up, and bring these species under the banner of our lords, as the disdain with which you beings of Khorne hold sorcery in is well known, I suggest you direct your efforts to turning those furried creatures into berserkers worthy of your lord...I shall, on the other hand, turn these amphibians to fully understand the skills with the warp they were blessed with."
The Skulltaker understood the plan easily, "AND USING THESE PRIMITIVES, TIE UP THE FORCES OF THE TREASONOUS SORCERER SO WE MAY FIGHT WORTHY FOES." The daemon let out a bellowing laugh, "AS MUCH AS I DESPISE YOU, I MUST AGREE THAT YOUR PLAN WILL BRING THE MOST GLORY TO OUR LORDS. YOU DO YOUR PART LIBRARIAN, AND I SHALL TURN THESE PATHETIC CREATURES INTO SOMETHING WORTHY OF KHORNE'S ATTENTION!"
The Librarian smiled sinisterly, "Don't worry about my part, after all you have blood to spill… What is it you thick brained berserkers shout as you serve your master?" Here he pretended to think, before speaking in a sinister and silken tone that would freeze the blood of veteran warriors: "Ah yes: Blood, for the blood god...Skulls, for the skull throne."
With a roar of approval, the Khornate daemon summoned his Juggernaut mount, Khul'tyran. The red plated daemonic warbeast roared in anger and hate, ready to spill blood. Skulltaker snatched the juggernaut by its reins, and began to gallop away, intent on finding these tribals and subjugating them in the name of Khorne, and speeding off towards the Frenzyheart Tribe. The Librarian chuckled, and slowly started walking in the direction Oracle alliance, its form shifting to look like a more evolved version of a Gorloc, "Let the games begin."
/
"And well.. That's pretty much it." Klaus mumbled. That hurt. Like, a knife in his guts hurt. Confession was a way to relieve your sins. To get the burden off of your back. Yet somehow, Klaus only felt worse.
"So you're… worried, about your actions?" She asked, just as the waiter came over, two bowls in hand. She put the steaming bowl in front of Klaus, while she slid the plate full of vegetables in front of Lofn. Klaus glanced at the wooden bowl, and took the spoon out of the soup, and took a sip. It was rather thick for a soup, more like a stew, if anything. He took another spoonful. It burned at his throat, as he swallowed the concoction.
"Yes, in a way. As you may know, sins on the soul account for quite a lot of things. Passage to the Golden Gates, for one." He replied. She glanced up at him.
"Golden Gates?" She asked. He took another spoonful.
"Yes, the Golden Gates. Where every man and woman goes to when they die, to be judged by the emperor and the souls of the primarchs to see if their accomplishments in life have served enough of a purpose to please him, might he is." He replied.
"And as so, the more sins that tally up, the more that I fear that all of my efforts will be for naught." He added on.
"Perhaps so…" She said quietly. They stared at each other for a few moments, before they went back to eating.
"It's snowing outside." She pointed out. Klaus glanced to his side, where Legion was standing. He took a few steps to the side, revealing the frost covered windows.
"That it is." Klaus merely said, going back to his food. They were quiet for a few minutes, before he heard a plate slide. Klaus looked up. She had finished. He glanced down at his bowl. He barely had even started.
"If you're done, you can go." Klaus mumbled, going back to his soup.
"I don't see a reason to. Why not have a talk?" She asked. Klaus furrowed his eyebrows, anger fermenting within his body.
"Talk. That's all you want. Perhaps you never take a moment to realize what I would want. Some damn privacy." He growled. Lofn took the note, and pushed her chair in, and left. Klaus sighed. He didn't want to say it like that...
'Now look at what you've done', the strange and foreign part of his brain said. 'You should apologise.'
'APOLOGISE? FOR WHAT?' The other part of his brain screamed.
'You caused her discomfort.'
'DISCOMFORT? SHE DOESN'T DESERVE COMFORT TO BEGIN WITH! SHE DESERVES TO LIVE IN FEAR!'
Klaus expelled these thoughts for his head for now, as Legion walked over, sitting in Lofn's seat.
"Admirable work. Many others would have cracked under such pressure." Legion merely said. Klaus looked up in confusion.
"Admirable? What was admirable about that?" He demanded.
"I say admirable, as you have done something that I had not accounted for you to do. I say admirable, because you had put yourself in a situation that very, very few have ever gotten themselves into." Legion began to explain, before Klaus shook his head.
"No. Nothing admirable could be seen in such a situation. Heretical, is the proper word. Unfortunate, is the proper word. Damn near treasonous, is the proper word. I hate myself for this. For everything I have done so far in my time here. Nothing you can say can change that. It's almost like you promote these unorthodox actions." He snarled. Klaus noticed he had attracted the attention of several of the barkeeps. He finished off the stew, reached into his bag, and took out several gold coins. He slammed them onto the table surface, and began to leave. Legion was still sitting, though he too got up, and began to follow him.
"If that is your opinion, then you may keep it, and follow it with all your will." Legion said, as he reached the top of the staircase first.
"I would like to inform you that Bluddflagg was watching from the window." Legion said. Klaus froze, and sighed, rubbing his face. Bluddflagg was NOT going to go easy on him with this...
