Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Puella Magi Madoka Magica


A whispered wind swept through the city, drawing away from the Imperial positions. A fleet of ghosts, drifting between the no-man's land that lay outside the reshaped battle lines. They sped through the dark, garish yet invisible, swift yet silent, disturbing neither dead nor debris as they went.

Sayaka had taken the secondary position, as was befitting one so close to destiny, yet she could feel little pride in her role at the moment. The Troupe was in poor health, their numbers whittled down greatly from what they'd once been. Even those who had endured did so with scars. Many of the remaining Harlequins, including Tseranis himself, still had yet to fully recover from the last battle. Of them all, only Navarre remained without obvious injury to hamper his way.

But sorrow over the fallen would not change her path. Not yet. When the battle was finished, and the curtain closed, then there would be time to mourn properly, and to honor those who had put on their final show. For now, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind where they might lie in wait until she could face them again.

Sensing a change in tempo, the Troupers began to draw into a tighter formation, responding to the unsung ballad that only they could hear. Navarre led them forwards, becoming the point to Kurnous' spear as he led them through the desolate pathways of the human city.

The sound of war-drums echoed on the wind. Their quarry was near.

The greenskins never knew what hit them. They, like a dozen other splinter factions split off after the disastrous loss of their main army, had taken to scrounging through the ruins in hopes of recovering some semblance of power as the largest among them fought one another for dominance. Their savage mockery of music had likely been meant to help stave off the disheartening silence that was normally filled by raucous calamity in a proper Ork camp, but now it served as the perfect cover for the vipers in their midst.

In the blink of an eye, the large alleyway that had been sheltering the beasts erupted in a dizzying array of color and motion. Lithe and graceful figures leapt from the shadow without warning, driving into the unprepared greenskins with wild abandon. Most didn't even have time to realize they'd come under attack, much less reach for their weapons, before their end arrived. With each hammering note of the drums, the tempo of the massacre was shaped, and each successive pounding drive pushed them further along the stream of bloodshed.

Sayaka spun out from the group, her silvery blade slicing through the throat of on particularly slow-witted Ork who'd frozen in uncomprehending surprise the moment the attack had initiated. Death gave him no further answers, as his final mask was one of perplexed fear when his head tumbled from his shoulders. Another sweep of her blade and two of the runt-like Grots scrambling underfoot were cast aside in pieces, their killer already moving to her next target.

Only the Nob of the group managed to collect his wits quickly enough to react, but even that amounted to nothing. By the time he'd raised his clumsy weapon to retaliate, four Harlequins had already converged on the creature, each one slicing through a limb, while Navarre darted in to slam the needle of his Kiss into the large Ork's forehead, ending its life in a shower of blood and monofilament wire.

Only when the last of the beasts dropped to the ground, and the din of their cries drifted to silence, did Sayaka pause to look out over the carnage.

Thirty-six Orks, and almost three score of their smaller kin, lay dead at their hands. She herself was responsible for seven slain overall, but the number didn't bring the feeling of pride she would have liked. After all, no matter how quickly or cleanly they brought low these roving packs, they weren't the important ones. This was the fifth such group that the Harlequins had exterminated, and Lileath only knew how many more were cowering in the dark in need of smiting, but the main performance still lay ahead of them.

"An exquisite showing!" Navarre commended as they caught their breath. "Would that we might have more time to plan our acts and tailor them more accordingly to our audience, but improvisation is an art form all its own as they say. Any faltering actors in need of respite? No? Marvelous! Then we shall move onto the next stage. Miki! I want you to take point with this one. Show us how the dance of fate shall guide your steps."

"If you think you can handle my performance Athair, I'd be happy to!" She replied with a touch of forced bravado. With a pirouette, she sprang to the front of their formation as the rest of the Troupe followed in her wake. Navarre stood at the back, dropping a spherical object in the center of their spent battlefield before running to join up with the rest of them.

As a blinding flash immolated the remains of the Orks, The Eldar were already on their way to hunt another band.

In the distance, the sound of drums could be heard.


The steady beat of footsteps against pavement, each timed in careful succession. Soldiers in parade formation. Impractical in actual conflict, but damned impressive to look at. Madoka didn't know for certain what they were doing at the moment other than simply drilling the troops to keep them ready, but the sight of rows upon rows, platoons upon platoons, of armed and armored soldiers marching in formation down the street was a fearsome sight to behold from her place at the windowsill.

"…Local militia conscription from the surrounding cities underway. Shouldn't expect too many on such short notice but able hands will be found one way or another."

Commissar Gilliam's reports reached her ears as he rattled off an array of numbers and statistics meant for Mami's attentions. She could piece together some amount of it even if the grand scale went over her head.

There were concerns that even with the reinforcements of both Octavian's men and the Eldar Warhost, they may run short on manpower. Those locals of Paltua IV whom had not already been pressed into service were going to find themselves brought to the battlefront very soon. That knowledge was a shard of guilt in Madoka's heart, knowing that these people were going to be forced to fight, and in many cases die, against a monster she'd brought with her. Even so, it carried something else with it. Resolve. She'd resolved to never turn away from the knowledge of the people who'd be fighting with them. To know those at her back would give her the drive to perform, no matter what lay in store.

"-adoka? Madoka?"

With a start, the pink haired girl sat up in her seat, blinking back her musings quickly as she refocused on the present.

"What? Er… sorry." She offered. "What was that?"

"I was asking how you think you'll manage to fare." Mami repeated, gazing at her with a light, but serious expression. "I very much doubt that the Grand Witch will be pushed aside by a singular show of power the way our enemies in the past have. How do you think you'll do if the fight becomes drawn out?"

She wasn't certain. In truth, she didn't fully understand the limits of her power beyond the fact that the more she used, the more corrupt her Soul Gem would become. The transformations had been odd, almost as if she was becoming another person entirely rather than simply calling on something she should be able to control, but she'd never tried to maintain it for any length of time before. How she wished she'd gotten more details about what to expect out of the others, because her current state of affairs wasn't anything like she'd pictured it being for them.

But that wouldn't stop her.

"I'll hold it for as long as it takes." Madoka replied, pushing away any doubts that might have held her back. Unconsciously, her fingers drifted to the Inquisitorial seal burned into her hand, pressing against the mark as if to ward off those treacherous thoughts. "I'll make sure that it gets done. You don't have to worry about that."

Mami nodded thoughtfully, taking a moment to sip at the tea she'd ordered while they refined their individual plans for the coming conflict. Despite the earlier speech given by the Lord Inquisitor, the actual in-depth planning had proven to be far from over.

"I see." She said simply, something in her tone giving Madoka the impression that she was less than convinced. "I suppose that will have to do. Regardless, I think it best that we don't push fortune until the time is upon us. Do everything in your power to avoid transformations or any activity that might compromise your reserves until you actually face the Witch. I would rather you had every possible ounce of strength at your disposal before you fought her directly."

Madoka nodded, slightly grateful that she hadn't been asked to spearhead the attack herself. Though it pained her knowing there were others putting their lives on the line, she wasn't certain just how much her other form could take, or how long she could force it to stay up. It was a bit too late to test those limits now, after all.

But with thoughts of her impending battle in mind, Madoka couldn't help bringing up another question.

"Do we know when she's going to show up?" She asked, fidgeting in her seat. The words brought a thrill of nervous tension to her spine, as though merely mentioning them might invite Walpurgisnacht to their doorstep even sooner.

"We have little to go on I'm afraid." Mami answered truthfully. "Without proper communications to the bulk of the Imperium, we don't have a means of tracking her through the Warp. The Eldar however, have said that she is likely to strike tonight or early tomorrow morning according to their estimations. How accurate that may be is anyone's guess, but I fear there will be little time to sleep in the near future."

Tonight. The single word reverberated in her head like a gong, blasting away the calm that had been holding her in thrall recently. Suddenly it made sense why so many troops were being drilled so quickly. Why they were skeptical of any major aid coming from the surrounding area. Why Sayaka and the Troupe were being pressed to hunt down the Ork Warboss on such short notice.

It was coming tonight.

To her credit, Madoka's face didn't pale at the knowledge. She had, in a time almost forgotten, faced the same situation. Huddled together with her family in the dark confines of the civilian shelter while rain and terror poured down around them. She'd known then that the Grand Witch was coming then, just as she did now. Though her heart quailed at thought of the threat looming so soon, her breathing remained steady.

"That's sooner than I was expecting." Madoka admitted.

"It's sooner than any of us had hoped." Mami replied, offering her cup to Gilliam who, breaking from the lists and charts he'd been filing through, took the chance to refill it. "We only learned about it early this morning from the xeno leaders themselves. They didn't deign to share how they'd figured this out, but it has been working its way down the command structure to all the officers since then."

"Tis only fitting that the enemy be upon us with expediency." Gilliam remarked. "We've won a grand victory against the forces of the greenskins, so our main enemy must take her place on the battlefield. Far better to be thrust into the fight than made to grind down into the trap of tedium under false respite."

"Better for the battle-hardened mind perhaps." Mami said, flicking her gaze out the window. "But not so for those less conditioned to war, and certainly not so for our preparations."

"With all due respect Lady Inquisitor, I think any further time spent on preparations would be superfluous." The Commissar replied, offering a rare dissenting opinion. "Our need for fortifications are minimal, and with the army we have arrayed already after the inclusion of the Lord Inquisitor's reinforcements and our… allies… I believe the men drafted will only be a padding effort to shore up the number of guns we have to hold the enemy at bay."

Though she didn't want to enter the fray any sooner than was absolutely necessary, Madoka could see the logic behind his assertion. The heavy hitters were already in place. Support from the Eldar, Grey Knights, Imperial elites, and Kyoko's Knight Titan were prepared. Most of the conscripts would be getting the thankless job of bogging down the enemy according to their battle strategy. That said…

"A bit more rest would be nice though." She commented hesitantly, looking down to her hands. "I know that a lot of people are still recovering from the Ork invasion."

"Precisely." Mami sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Though the newest reinforcements are ready and eager, our men and those of Paltua's defenders are fresh from the warfront. Fatigue is still an issue, and the injured won't be getting a chance to heal properly."

"A wise assessment." Gilliam conceded. "But there is no use in dwelling on it. What will be, will be. The enemy come for us quickly, and it will be our steel and spirit that see them vanquished just as swiftly."

Mami took a moment to regard him coolly from the corner of her eye, tapping her fingers against her arm as she did so.

"Confidence is a fine thing to have." She remarked. "But too much can be just as dangerous as not enough. Don't think I've forgotten your actions on Atlania. We can't afford another reckless charge into certain death."

For his part, Gilliam actually managed to appear humbled. Or, at the very least, as close to humbled as the red-robed Commissar was capable of looking, which wasn't all that much.

"Worry not, Lady Inquisitor." He answered, bowing his head. "Your orders are the bulwark of my will, and through them I shall see this battle to its end. If you preach restraint, then I shall deny the drive that pushes for vainglory."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response for the moment.

"That will do." Mami confirmed. "For the moment. As it is now, I think it's time to retire for the night."

"Already?" Madoka questioned, surprised by her remark. "But it's only a bit past noon, isn't it?"

"It is." She replied. "But if the attack is projected to come this night, there will be precious little time for sleep later. We must take what opportunity we can to remain at our peak. I will need to remain up and about to discuss the final details with the others, but I want you, both of you, to rest yourselves until the call comes for the next rotation. Adrenaline alone will not see you through a war. Sleep must be had whenever possible."

Gilliam quickly offered his affirmation, but Madoka was less confident. With such a threat just overhead, she had no idea how she'd be expected to simply relax, but the look Mami was giving her brokered no argument. With one last look out the window, she turned to follow as her mentor and guard departed.

Distantly, she wondered how Sayaka was doing right now.


"Miki! Down!"

Her body reacted before she'd even fully processed the order, falling to the ground in swift order just in time to avoid the hail of fire from the Ork Kommandos that had looked to ambush her. This bunch had been proving more troublesome than most of the others, but with their cover blown, they couldn't hope to stand up to the Troupe by themselves.

A blur of color shot through the street as the Harlequins sprinted between the hails of gunfire, dazzling and confusing the eyes of their foes with all the maddening flourish they could muster. And then, the Troupers were among them, laying into the Orks with the furious grace that was their birthright.

Sayaka tumbled backwards to avoid the spray of arterial fluid as the lead Kommando's throat was opened by her blade. The greenskin's mouth opened and closed rapidly, garbling out something that she assumed was an insult, before its severed spine gave way and it collapsed into the pile of dead strewn about the wrecked vehicles they'd been using for cover.

"Truly the vexatious double standard of Orkish cunning is a wondrous thing." Navarre remarked cheerfully as things calmed back down. "For a moment, those ones almost looked as though they'd provide a challenge."

"I'd say they did better than the others." Sayaka replied, wiping her blade clean of her foe's putrid blood. "They realized we were coming, and managed to evade us for long enough to set up their own fight."

"Indeed, indeed." The Athair said, striding among the other Troupers. "All the more gratifying when the quarry lives up to the hunt, no? How fares our merry band? Any injuries? I should hope no one died in that little scrabble. If they did, I may have to kill them for disgracing the name of my performers in such a way."

"Nay, Troupe Master." One man responded, peeling away from the group. "The beasts were swift, but their speed was no match for our own. We remain unharmed."

"Marvelous!" Navarre chimed, clapping his hands together and pivoting on his heel. "I should hope such delightful news comes in pairs! Tseranis! How goes the search for our true targets?"

The Warlock was the least enthusiastic among them despite their string of successful attacks. He took a moment to consider, kicking a decapitated Ork head from his path before gazing off into the city.

"It is proving surprisingly difficult to pin the beast down, Athair." He said, turning his Witchblade over in his hand. "I can no longer sense the horrific presence of the greenskin Psyker that was with it before, but there is a large signature that may prove promising. An amassment of Orks far beyond the skittering bands we've been dealing with thus far. If the lead monster yet lives, I have little doubt it resides within that encampment."

Navarre chuckled, swinging his blade back and forth with a deceptively casual air as he took in the report.

"Is that so?" He remarked. "Well, how ideal for us then. T'would be quite the bother were we to scrape up the remaining fiends one scattered group at a time. Better to have them grouped into one generous mass, waiting for their execution."

"Athair, I would advise caution." Tseranis warned, his solemn mask appearing exceptionally grave. "The path to victory becomes more and more precarious as the Witch draws closer. The Orks will outnumber us many times over, and their chieftain is a dangerous specimen, even by the standards of their kind. This will take more than simply a surprise ambush."

"Just how many of them are there?" Sayaka asked, going over the ones they'd killed already in her head. With almost one hundred and twenty Orks slain already thanks to their divisive and uncoordinated schisms, surely there couldn't be that many still left in the-

"If my estimations are correct, the main body of the Ork warband still numbers at least six hundred strong."

The statement was like a punch to the gut. Even after having been devastated by Madoka's transformation, their force was still so numerous. Against a proper army, six hundred Orks wouldn't have been a serious threat, but the Broken Oath numbered only twenty members by now. There was no time to divert forces away from the front either. Walpurgisnacht would be upon them soon, and leaving themselves out of position would be a fatal mistake.

They were on their own. A score of them against a miniature army of greenskins. And this wasn't even the main battle.

"Fear not." Navarre stated, drawing her out of the icy chasm that had widened beneath her feet. "Is this any different from what we've faced thus far? The children of Isha are ever outnumbered by the horrors of this galaxy, and none know this better than the followers of the Laughing God. Whether one hundred or one thousand, their numbers will not avail them. Remember your purpose, for no matter the odds, we shall see this performance through to the end."

"Yes, Troupe Master." Sayaka replied, fighting to steady herself. He was right. She'd already been through so much, surely this shouldn't be any different…?

The thought didn't do much for her optimism, but it did help to steady her nerves somewhat. Though the darkness of the galaxy couldn't be won by determination alone, she'd known all along that she would do whatever it took to preserve the flickering light that stood amongst them.

"If I may make a suggestion…" Tseranis interjected, stepping between the two of them. "Fighting so many Orks as we are would prove suicidal. Without their leader however, it is unlikely that the greenskins would be able to mount any kind of threatening offensive during the true battle. After its conclusion, the Mon-Keigh may take it upon themselves to clean out what is left, should the planet still be standing."

"A simple enough goal." Navarre agreed, peering at the Warlock curiously. "I take it you have a plan on how to part these monstrous savages from their savage monster?"

He nodded, hands folded tightly over the pommel of his blade.

"Were it my decision, I would think to split the Troupe." He began. "I would take half, and with them, seek to disrupt and distract the Orks from several directions at once. We lack the means to fight them directly, but my powers may shield us from their gaze, and our goading may split apart their formation enough to isolate the Warboss that leads them.

The other half of the Troupe would act as the assassin's blade, slipping between the fractured lines of the beasts to strike down their foul leader. Such… would not be an easy task by any means, but I think it would be the best course of action we have at our disposal."

"A plan that relies on the gullibility of Orks is a fair one to be sure…" Navarre pondered out loud. "Tell me, is this the path that the skeins of fate hath set for us? Or merely one you believe to be most likely to prove fruitful?"

"Both." Tseranis answered. "But I would warn you Athair, you do not wish to know what the skeins of fate have to say about our chances in the near future."

The comment brought a cheerful laugh from the Troupe Master, who spun on his heels like an excited child.

"Oh, I'm certain old friend!" He said. "But where lies the glory in a battle won without effort? The more fearsome the challenge, the greater the champion who overcomes it."

"And the more eager the supplicant, the more foolish they seem when they are left in ruin." The Warlock added darkly. "I have seen this beast through both the eyes of my mind and those of my physical body. It is a fearsome and horrendous thing, driven by undaunted ambition and bloodlust. Ensure that you are prepared, for it will not die quietly."

Much to his chagrin, the warnings only seemed to amuse Navarre further. With an exaggerated bow, the Troupe Master turned to offer his hand to Sayaka, who stood waiting nearby.

"What say you, child of destiny?" He prompted, giving her an impish glance. "This monster very nearly ended your life once already. Are you prepared to return the favor with me?"

Behind her mask, she was nervous. The only thing she knew of the green beast beyond the Warlock's warnings were the tiny half-remembered snippets of her fever dream state which floated about her mind. If the creature had survived the involvement of Chaos, Madoka's transformation, and the fallout from her final barrage, it would prove a force to be reckoned with.

But such was the beauty of wearing a mask in the first place.

"Of course, Athair!" She responded, her own lingering fears carefully buried beneath the façade of the actor she'd come to wear like a second skin. "I should ask you the same thing. Do you think you can keep to the music of fate itself, or have your feet grown too slow to follow the steps in your recent complacency?"

He gave a hearty laugh, pulling her forward by the hand as he spun in place.

"Oh dear me, little one." He chided. "You'll find no moss on these bones. When the clarion call of battle sounds once more, I think it time that I remind you why I lead this Troupe. Wouldn't you think so, Tseranis?"

"You are both incorrigible." The Warlock muttered, shaking his head. "If we are to follow through with this plan, it had best be soon. Every moment wasted, our enemy draws closer, and the threat of the Orks will persist until their leader is felled."

"Quite right." Navarre agreed. "Speed and precision have ever been the deadliest of weapons. Let us not linger here any longer."

He paused, turning to address the rest of the Troupe who'd been patiently waiting on the sidelines of the discussion.

"Now then! Who among you wishes to kill a monster?"


It was almost a blessing for Madoka when a robed man escorted by two armed guards came to fetch her. Perhaps unsurprisingly, sleep had proved an elusive and fickle creature with the threat of what was to come looming overhead. She'd tossed and turned in the cot she's been given, and the few fitful moments of rest she'd managed to capture had been brief and unhelpful. If anything, the effort of trying to force herself to sleep had left her more tired at the end of it than when she'd begun.

That was behind her now. In this moment, she was being dressed, a pair of aids fastening the straps of her personal armor around her body and fixing the individual plates into position. The alien weight of the protective gear settled on her shoulders, giving physical form to the imagined pressure she'd felt up until this point.

And the final piece. Her helmet. A clasp below her chin and another behind the base of her head, holding the final touch of her battle regalia into place. Though the presence of the militaristic gear would have been upsetting to her once, she recognized the importance of having it in the coming fight. Even her regenerative abilities had their limits. If a stray shot severed her spine or cracked open her skull, there would be no second chance. She would be left helpless at a time where they could not afford it.

Gilliam had shown up shortly before she was fully outfitted, and his appraisal of her gear came with surprising reservation. He didn't criticize the craftsmanship or style the way she'd come to expect of him. Rather, his words were clipped and formal, merely ensuring that everything was in working order.

There were several brief moments where Madoka thought she might have spied something approaching sadness flickering in his eyes as he looked her over, but that was likely nothing more than her imagination. By this point, she wasn't even sure the Commissar was capable of feeling those kinds of things.

The appraisal went quickly, and her outfit was finalized. The aids had done their work well, as all the fittings matched far better than she'd been anticipating. She knew full well that it was due to her connections with Mami and the others, but even so, she felt a bit of guilty relief at the fact that she wasn't stuck with something several sizes too large for her, like many of the new recruits she'd seen.

When she was dressed, flack armor decorated in camouflage patterns replacing her drab civilian garb, Gilliam gave his approval and lead her out to search for Mami. She, as with most of the command hierarchy, was stationed close to the front. Near enough to adapt and give orders, but not so close that she'd be in danger when the first wave hit.

The militarized zone had changed dramatically from what it had been when she'd first arrived. Mortar teams had bunkered down in specially fortified positions, ready to drop short range artillery on the enemy while the larger long range specialists were hunkered down at the heart of their position. Men and women armed with lasguns lined just about every structure, peering out from the windows, or guarding the streets with focused tension. Armored divisions of tanks, Sentinels, and various other vehicles she didn't recognize were nestled in confines of an Imperial depot, ready to deploy wherever the enemy might strike them from.

The standard troops were not the only ones either. Skitarii warriors had taken up positions at regular intervals, either tending to equipment, or standing vigilant during their watch. Specialized weapons teams bearing the marks of the Inquisition could be seen interspersed among the defenses, setting up the heavy guns where they could get clear lines of fire on any target that strayed into their view. Even several groups of large, brute-like abhumans milled about in the throng, carrying shields as thick as tank plating, and guns that were as big as she was.

Of the Grey Knights and the Eldar, there was no sign, but she guessed that both of them would be appearing as soon as battle was joined.

It made for a very impressive display. They were more organized than they'd ever been so far. Atlania had been a mess of disheveled troops fighting to maintain cohesion against a surprise attack. The battle aboard the Leshara's Grace had been little better. Even their engagement under the command of the traitorous Heidric had been a quick and dirty operation.

She knew better than to blindly trust in the appearance of strength by now, but even so, seeing the soldiers stocked and ready was a welcome sight to behold. Even Gilliam didn't have much to say in criticism of their operations.

Their walk took them across several blocks towards a forward command center which had been established inside a large Imperial bastion. What the building was meant for during peace time, Madoka could only guess at, but given how warlike the galaxy was, and the nature of the world she stood upon, having it purely for the purposes of war may well have been justification enough.

Reinforced metal doors creaked open as the guards moved to let them pass, each one giving a quick salute to the Commissar and the girl before snapping back to their duties. Inside, soldiers bearing the colors of Mami's personal forces were waiting.

It was a welcome group, and Madoka actually found herself recognizing several of the faces of those who'd been with them since the beginning. Off in the corner, the man who'd taken a shot from the Orks during their exodus to Maritac sat polishing his rifle. His shoulder appeared to have healed nicely. To his right, the medicae that she'd first aided during the onset of the battle was tending to several troops who seemed to be suffering from minor ailments. Others she'd had close encounters with, or who she'd simply spotted in the crowd before, greeted her eyes with a familiar presence.

But, of course, there were two in the group who stood out more than any.

"Hey, there she is." Kyoko remarked, looking up from the card game she was playing with a couple of other Guardsmen. "Guess you lot get off easy today. Don't go thinking there'll be a mercy rule in effect during any future games though. This is a one-time thing."

Judging by the grudging relief that the men displayed, and the assortment of trinkets and items she scooped off the table as she stood up, Kyoko had been winning quite handily. The redhead appeared in high spirits as she stood up, in contrast to the Inquisitor across from her.

"Madoka. Commissar. Welcome." Mami offered, nodding to both of them in turn. She was in full battle-garb, with twin rifles slung across her back. Her eyes were tired, as though the meetings and final preparations she'd been looking over had been exceedingly draining, but given the short time they'd had to get ready, that didn't seem far off the mark. "Are you both prepared? If you've forgotten anything, you won't have another chance to go back for it later."

"Nay Lady Inquisitor, all I require is present and prepared." Gilliam responded smoothly, a grim smile adorning his face. "Whatever comes for us shall be met with blade in hand. Of that, you have my word."

"I'm ready too." Madoka said, going over her mental checklist. Her belongings were few to begin with, so it was easier to keep track of the small assortment of basic items she'd been given. And at the end of the day, the only thing she truly needed was currently hanging from a chain around her neck.

"That's good to hear." Mami commended, offering up a small smile of her own. "I suggest you don't make yourselves too comfortable, as we're not going to be staying here for very long. Once the fighting starts, we're to meet up with the rest of your escorts and prepare for the push. Breaking their initial strike will be handled by the forces under Octavian's command."

"Shouldn't we be meeting them right now?" Madoka asked, feeling a touch concerned. She hadn't been privy to the finer details of the plan beyond what everyone's role was, and what she was expected to do once they struck back. "Isn't it going to be dangerous to try and reconnect with them later?"

Mami gestured her in closer, casting her eyes to the surrounding room. None seemed to be eavesdropping on her conversation, but she took no chances.

"The Grey Knighs and the Eldar who will be aiding in your protection are currently stationed to reinforce the front line during the opening salvo." She explained quietly. "Their actions will help create the opening we'll use to push through. For now, it's best to keep you safe behind our lines until the time is right."

"Yeah, and as 'fer danger, you don't got a thing to worry about." Kyoko added brazenly. "Ophelia an' I will be watchin' over you the whole time. A'int no freak monster getting through under our watch."

Her confidence was reassuring. Though Madoka knew that it would hardly be so simple in practice, the fact that she sounded genuinely certain helped to sooth any fears the girl might hold.

"All right." She said. "I'm glad to be in your hands then."

Kyoko grinned, apparently pleased by her reaction.

"Damn straight. Now sit down for a minute. Might as well grab a bite while we're waiting for the party to start."


In the broken skeletons of human construction, a green behemoth rallied his forces for what he knew to be his destined purpose, and the ultimate battle that lay in wait for him.

Lurking beyond the shadows, a group of assassins prepared to make their attempt on his life.

Far beyond the sight of mortals, the mind of an ancient Sorcerer grappled with the array of plots and schemes he'd found so suddenly thrown into disarray, as his various vassals looked towards their own nefarious plans.

In the wastelands, a man and his followers stood with purpose unbowed despite their desperate situation, while a monster clawed through the background with hungry eyes fixed on the life it craved so terribly.

Bunkered down for the coming storm, Imperial soldiers prepared for what would be the defining battle in this war against insanity. Far above them, ships belonging both to the followers of the God Emperor and the children of the Old Ones held firm as the first line of defense.

In the Warp, a tremor was felt. And another. And another after that. Ripples cascaded outwards as reality made way. In realspace, a crack was formed through which the first of countless dark creations slipped into the waking world.

The vanguards of the Grand Witch had come.

The end had begun.