Chapter 17

Cain had a moment to collect his thoughts.

In his entire life as a commissar, he never experienced a situation quite like this one; which said a lot considering his long campaign history. Yet, here he was, shopping at a mall in a world full of mutants and daemons with a 'Slaanesh Daemon.' At least, they appeared to be one.

There were a lot of inconsistencies occurring compared to his actual run-ins with the Agents of Chaos. First was how, for the lack of a better term, 'human' they acted. Abhumans he could understand; they were simply humans who evolved over the centuries due to their colonized planets. Mutants, he was pretty sure they were human, then something happened, and they held onto whatever humanity they had left. But, on the other hand, Daemons were an excess of emotions dialed up to 20 and would do whatever they can to fulfill their desire, even if it meant the destruction of others or themselves. Emeli Duboir, his ex-turned-daemon, was one such example.

Unlike Emeli, however, he didn't feel any aura or mindless desire of the Ruinous Powers emanating from anyone since he got here. The closest to such feelings came from Vox and Alastor, yet this could be the feeling one got from powerful psykers. When the one known as Angel Dust asked him to go shopping, he wanted to refuse. After learning that this creature was a self-proclaimed daemon, he wanted to stay as far away from them as humanly possible. But he couldn't, as getting on a daemon's bad side was a surefire way to get fragged. Strong as he was, he didn't want to test his luck on his new body holding against it. He was tempted to ask Charlie or Vagatha to help him, though their conversation within the stairway held the idea off. Charlie would likely brush off whatever worries he had, and Vagatha's attitude told him she held no trust in Cain.

Thus, he was stuck.

While he knew the spider had combat experience, he didn't seem to exhibit a 'daemon's' habits, just a very horny cadet fresh for training. Emperor knew how many times he constantly dealt with that at the academy. Nevertheless, it wasn't proof or a guarantee that he wasn't dealing with a dangerous threat.

With that in mind, Cain tried to bait the daemon with a few subtle nudges on specific topics or acting a certain way: Dropping a term like a 'governor' or 'reading' for a Tzeentch spawn, hinting at having his way with a governor's daughter or blushing at eroticism (by thinking of Amberley in a dress) to pull out a Slaanesh, mentioning the loss of one's memories to bring out a hopeful Nurgle follower, and for a child of Khorne... well, blood and violence in some manner excited them. But, of course, if they were truly with the forces of Chaos, things would react to such exploits with glee or hidden joy dancing in their eyes at least once.

It also had to be truthful, as they could tell a lie a mile away thanks to whatever the warp energies held. Luckily he was good at telling the truth without giving too much away.

Yet, so far, he didn't get the responses he had expected. Over two hundred years of living, he read people well enough to know the difference between a regular person and a heretic. Not at the same level as an Inquisitor, but well enough. Then, there's the lack of markings of chaos anywhere; symbols appear somewhere on bodies, such as jewelry or tattoos.

As far as Cain could tell, this 'Angel Dust' was just a stupidly horny individual with personal issues. So, from this, he could glean the idea that they weren't daemon.

That doesn't mean they weren't a mutant or genestealer, though. Still, two hundred years had taught him to be careful.

"Yo Slick!"

Cain blinked and glanced at the voice talking to him, getting pulled from the recesses of his mind. Frak, he must have said something while he was distracted. This was a bad habit that still persisted back when he first became a commissar. He was currently in the dressing room, holding a black, double-breasted trench coat and a wide-brimmed, black slouch hat.

"I'm sorry," Cain said. "My mind was occupied for a moment. Did you say something?"

"I asked if you're done. You've been in there for 10 minutes!"

Of course, he was. But, sadly, his mind wandered so quickly. "Apologies, I'll be out in a minute."

While his trust in the daemon(possibly just mutant) was minimal, Cain had to admit that the idea had merit; Getting casual articles of clothing would be necessary. Blending in was an essential part of staying alive behind enemy lines. It saved his hide more times than he cared to count. It's likely to come in handy here as well since he had no idea how long his stay will be.

However, he kept the under-armor beneath the clothing just in case. No excuse to walk around unprotected.

He placed the uniform he had onto the coat rack, though he kept the holsters for his weapons. He found this new suit held his sword quite comfortably. The machine spirit quietly agreed.

He stepped out of the dressing room, now fully garbed in the outfit.

Angel looked over the wolf, emitting a low whistle.

"Damn, looking sharp," he said. "Shame we couldn't find a scarf to match. You could be a dead-ringer to the Shadow."

Cain glanced at the mirror behind him. "Perhaps for the best," Cain said. "I'd rather not get confused with someone else."

He had enough of that during his 'heroic' career.

"Fair enough," Angel said, readjusting his jacket. "Let's roll."

After placing his uniform in a bag and paying for the new suit, the two of them exited the store.

"Wait, where are we going?" Cain asked. Already he'd regret asking.

"There's a liquor bar just across from here."

And, of course, it had to involve alcohol. The one vice that seems to be universal no matter where he went. Even the Xenos he had the 'fortune' of meeting with would often be drinking some form of it. But, then again, it'd be hypocritical of him to say he never touched a drink himself. Usually, when nobles or superior officers are involved.

If he knew what would become of this little escapade, he would have refused and simply walked back to the hotel. Yet sadly, hindsight is 20/20 and Cain was notorious for jumping into situations like this ad nauseam. No matter how much he tried to avoid it. Perhaps one of the Ruinous Powers cursed him for their amusement or this is the Emporer's way of testing him. Whatever the case, he chose to follow.

Which set in motion the rest of the day.

They say that no good deed goes unpunished. This was especially true for Cain. During his time at the hotel, he spent a portion of it cleaning up the streets around the place. Removing the thugs and ruffians that skulk the back alleys and the street gangs he met along the way. Nothing too different from what he usually did during his time in cityscapes when he was out and about. However, during his time away from hive cities, he had forgotten about the social dynamics of the criminal element. Not entirely his fault as he only dealt with military-related activities for a good part of his career. No, what he forgot was that gangs, no matter the size or origin, hated being pushed around. When they get pushed hard enough, they would band together to stop whoever or whatever was bothering them. Unless they were the local government or high authority, they will do stupid things to achieve it.

Case in point, the moment he and Angel left the store, they saw a group of thugs in matching colors roughing up the nearby civvies.

"Don't look now, soldier boy," Angel said, pointing. "But I think we got company. And not the fun kind."

Cain didn't need to be a psyker to see that. He recognized the patterns the clothing displayed. They were the same ones that the creatures wore when he went out to clean up the hotel area. It seemed that whatever devious gang they were in hadn't been small time. Especially by the look of the weapons they were sporting. They must be searching for him, he thought. He wasn't thinking about it at the time, really should have. He didn't have the firepower nor the manpower to deal with this. Yet the moment he took the job as head of security, the title with the extra powers he got went to his head. Something he never allowed happen before...

Was it this place? His new transformation? Was it doing something to his mind? By the Emperor, he hoped not. If he started acting like the average trigger-happy commissar and started shooting first and ask questions never, he'd be six feet under in 5 hours. Frak that.

He needed to focus. Right now, the group of thugs didn't seem to notice him. Thankfully, his new outfit had doubled as a disguise. Now he just needed Angel to follow his lead.

"Looks like the thugs I've been kicking out earlier in the day," Cain said. "We just need to make ourselves scarce."

"Whoa whoa, kicking out?" Angel asked. "The heck happen?"

"I've been securing the area all round the hotel to keep local gangs off."

"So... what, you were trying to make the entire area your territory or something?"

"Well... I guess thats one way to put it."

Angel raised both brows, tilting his hat back.

"Wow, gotta say, I'm impressed." Angel said with a smirk. "I like a bit of mayhem myself, but I don't usually go around pissing off gangs and taking their shit. Hai dei cuscinetti a sfere(You got some ball bearings), soldier boy."

As much as Cain wanted to tell off the spider's encouragement, he knew it was an exercise in futility. He kept a neutral stance.

"Yes, well. It likely did more harm than good." He glanced over to the group once more, seeing them slowly shuffling closer through the crowd, combing the crowd of 'civvies' one by one. "Alright, if we can sneak past them, then we might be able to make it out of here in one piece-"

"Hey!" One of the members, a gangly-looking fish with short legs walked right up to them. "You dat god ruffin up our turf?"

'Frak!' Cain thought, as he was now getting the attention of an entire gang of thugs with a flamboyant spider at his side for backup up. All he needed now was that snake demon to show up and he could truly be knee-deep in grox shite. Now if only he could concentrate, the constant rumbling in the air wasn't helping things...

Author's note: Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but I figure I would get something out instead of having you guys wait so long. As you can probably guess, I was busy the last number of months.

It started when I had to get myself a job to pay rent. Then it spiraled out from there as each moth, something bad would happen. I finally had to move to a new house after july. Then after what happened with Games Workshop, it kinda killed my mood for writing Warhammer stuff for a while. I actually had to write this piece several times as I was not satisfied with the depictions. Chipping away the writer's block. Still am. Hopefully this will help with that.