"Saren?"

"Saren!"

"SAREN!"

Saren blinked.

He was standing in a garage of some sort - the main motor pool of the Martyrium, he realized. Benyamin was shaking him by the shoulders, his expression pained; Katherine was still in the aircar, ostensibly working with her dataslate, though it was obvious from her frequent side-eyed glances that she was watching the two men.

Saren looked around slowly, taking it all in: the garage was in a state of total chaos as dozens of aircars and armoured transports did their best to move in and out of the lot. Despite the work of a veritable army of Inquisitorial staff doing their best to direct the flow of traffic, jams had formed in the various entrances and exits.

"SAREN! Look at me! I know this is all - everything's gone wrong - but we, Katherine, everyone - we need you to marshal your focus. We have grim work ahead of us. Pull yourself together," Benyamin pleaded, shaking him with even more force. "Snap out of it, Saren, I beg of you!"

"I...where...I'm sorry," Saren whispered, dazed. Fresh waves of nausea threatened to tear out of his gut, and it took every ounce of his shattered will to hold it down. "Oh, spirits, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Will you stop apologising for one Slayer-damned second and just listen?" Benyamin gripped Saren's hands in his own and stared him in the eyes. "At fault or not, right now you - we - do not have the time to sit here and wallow in our sorrows! We are giving our report to the Patriarch shortly and when we do, you can be sure he will expect us to be of sound mind. So WAKE UP!"

Saren woke up.

"Fuck. FUCK!" He paused, eyes flitting about as he tamped down on the blinding panic he hadn't even noticed overtake him, and shut his eyes. "The beacon. The beacon!"

Ben nodded slowly. "No longer a problem, Saren - we ripped the surge cable out. It no longer presents an issue - the demons, on the other hand...Saren, are you with me, now? We need you here."

"I'm here, okay? Okay, okay, I'm good," Saren said, centering himself with a handful of calming breaths. "Wait. Before we go - I put a spike into Turnick's terminal - spirits' shit, did I-"

"-fear not, lord," Katherine interjected, exiting the aircar. She fished out Saren's data-spike from one of her coat's pockets. "You mentioned it in passing, and so I retrieved it before we made our escape." Katherine held it out, and Saren took it, realizing now that the aircar bore several scorch marks around its rear.

"Escape…?" Saren shook his head. "Did we - did we engage the demons?"

"If you call driving at full speed away from a few flyers 'engaging,' then yes," Benyamin sighed. "Saren, look at me. Are you with us? Are you in better spirits?"

They stared at one another for a minute.

"I'm good," Saren answered finally, nodding. "I'm good."

Benyamin shook Saren once more, though this time it was a gentle gesture. "Come. Patriarch Harper awaits."

Inquisitor Hislop gestured to Katherine, and together the trio began making their way into the Martyrium proper, weaving through the frenzied crowds of Inquisitors. In short order they arrived in the secure antechamber which preceded Patriarch Harper's office; there was only a single guard standing watch this time, and for the first time since coming to the Exitium Saren saw one of Jack Harper's personal guards bereft of their helm. Standing before them now, their black plate covered in deep gashes and burns, was a woman with a shaved head and deathly-pale skin; her imposing presence was rendered, if anything, even more weighty by the unscrambled and frosty voice she spoke with.

"Forgo formality," the woman ordered before any of those present could kneel. "The Patriarch awaits."

"Thank you, honoured Cleric," Katherine intoned.

"Just go," the woman replied, scowling.

Patriarch Harper awaited them in his office, surrounded now not by projections of distant battlefields but a cacophony of war: each projected screen showed a different scene of combat against the demons invading Gaia, and at the centre of it all Jack sat at his desk, smoking-pipe clenched between his teeth as he flicked through a forest of holographic displays. At their approach, the Patriarch of the Inquisition flicked the displays to one side with a gesture, and - still controlling the windows with one hand - regarded Saren, Benyamin and Katherine with a cold, calculating gaze.

"There is no need for apologies," Jack said before Saren could begin. "Ben gave me the details on your ride up. Let it be said that had you turned traitor in the face of the demonic - if you had shown the same mercy to a demon-worshipping cultist - I would not kill you where you stand. But I would be very, very upset." He paused, focused on the panoply of holographic windows before him for a moment, and gestured several times, sending some out of sight and activating another few in turn to take their place. "To think one of our own would do this - unforgivable. You were right to have wanted him alive to gather more information. From one professional to another - I am sure that you are aware of your own failures in restraining Turnick properly."

"We - I - yes. Yes. I am well aware," Saren ground out. "Underestimating someone I thought to be a mere civilian. It was stupid."

"It is in the past." Jack knocked his pipe against an overflowing ashtray sitting on his desk, stuck the pipe back between his teeth, stuffed it full of more rokok from a drawer in his desk and lit it with one hand. He inhaled deeply, blew a steady stream of smoke out from his nostrils, then gestured vaguely in the air. "We will discuss the finer points of the circumstances leading to our current predicament at a later time. Benymain said you had something for me?"

"I spiked Skye's terminal," Saren noted, handing the data-spike to Jack.

"From the admittedly cursory inspection Katherine and I were able to carry out on our drive here, the data within is heavily encrypted by magitechnological means - far beyond anything I have seen before, and especially beyond what one would have expected from a mere plant manager," Benyamin offered with a grim shrug. "I would think it prudent to have it examined at the earliest available opportunity, Jack, if only to ensure we are not caught unawares by another act of Zentholic treachery. It would be criminal to throw off this demonic invasion, only to be stabbed in the back - again - by our erstwhile allies."

Patriarch Harper grunted in acknowledgment and plugged the spike into a slot on his desk; a new holographic window appeared, displaying a labyrinthine series of ritual circles - none of which Saren recognized. "This is not ours," Jack growled, examining the encryption spells closely. "Not demonic - thank the Slayer - but I do not recognize these patterns in the slightest. How vexing." He raised his left hand, and twisted it through a series of signs Saren didn't recognize; a circle of blue runes spiralled out of his hand and wove their way around his throat. "Fathom! From shadow, return!" he barked.

A moment of silence passed - and a blinding flash of brilliant cyan flared to life behind Jack's seat; from the light came a human woman garbed in a skintight black jumpsuit stained in a rainbow of demonic blood, her head obscured by a helm featuring a bulky, boxlike visor. The blade in her hand was of a make unknown to Saren; a slim, single-edged weapon with glowing blue markings along its length, a barrel of some sort protruding out over its back, and a trigger pack beneath the guard.

"I'm here," the woman answered, glancing around the office slowly; her gaze lingered on Saren for a moment, accompanied by a short nod, before she returned her attention to Jack.

"A data-spike taken from the terminal of the heretic who started this whole incursion," Jack explained, tossing the woman the spike. "Heavily encrypted by unknown means."

"You, confounded by mere cryptography? This is a dark day," the woman muttered. "Does this take priority?"

"It does. I want it broken as fast as possible. Invoke my name if necessary."

The woman examined the spike, turning it over in her free hand. "Understood. After that?"

The Patriarch nodded. "Walk in shadow, Fathom."

"Of course." The woman tucked the spike into a pouch on her belt-

-and with another flare of blue light, vanished.

There was a moment of silence.

Jack sighed, shut his eyes for a second, then returned his attention to the trio of Inquisitors standing before him. "Gaia has never faced, in my understanding, an invasion of this sort. The scale and size of our enemy today is low, all things considered - the problem, Inquisitors, is this." With a flick of his hands, one of the holographic displays hanging by the Patriarch's desk flipped around and expanded, showing a simplified, red-tinged wireframe map of the entire city. "This map displays all of Indomitable. The sections in red are those where our sensors have found demonic presence."

Katherine stifled a gasp with a gloved hand, and in reply the old man seated at the desk nodded.

"Precisely. The stacks at the bottom of the city were sealed at the first sign of incursion, and so remain untainted. Of the core five thousand stacks above - those which see the most use - only twelve are free of demonic taint," Jack growled. "Twelve."

"You said that the enemy numbers aren't that bad. Is the problem one of concentration?" Saren gestured at the map. "Can you change it to show demonic density?"

The map rippled, and most of the red sections of the city turned green; a few dozen spots remained red, and roughly half of the city faded into varying shades of yellow. "This time," Jack muttered, "your instincts serve you well, Saren. There are...fifty stacks, roughly, of Indomitable which I would call proper warzones - combined arms engaged against legions of the demonic host. That is fine. We have weathered far worse, and in any case casualties are within toleration at this time."

"We're spread too thin," Benyamin hissed. "Reinforcements?"

"Already deploying." Jack jerked his head at the holographic displays to the side of his desk. "The Church of the Slayer already recalled half the Gaian defence fleet and the top half-dozen stacks are receiving a non-stop flow of fresh warriors, vehicles and support personnel. In truth, I believe the top stacks of the city will be in good health before a week's passing. The real problem is here." Without warning the wireframe map zoomed into the bottom of the city; Saren noted that while the bottom fifty stacks of Indomitable were traced in green, several dozen directly above were highlighted in yellow. "The heart of Indomitable will not fall. To call such sacred ground protected would be idiocy - ancient, awful powers that even I labour to comprehend guard the core of our planet. No, it is the space directly above that is the issue. Many ancient things of incalculable value - temples, relics, archives, and yes, some weapons - lie above the final bastion of Indomitable, but those who guard the lowest fifty stacks are not…inclined to bloodlust. Were any demons capable of breaching their spiritual defences and teleporting directly into our innermost sanctums, the warriors there would cleanse demons as they found them, hunt their nests, exterminate the unholy. But they will not leave their stack unless ordered to do so."

"Who holds command authority over these defensive garrisons?" Saren shook his head with vigour. "If there are key installations down there that you deem to be beyond value-"

"-I do not command them, Saren." Jack stared at Saren, his tone cautious and even. "Even if every single leader of each of the Exitium's great Churches were to, unanimously, issue an order for these warriors to sally forth and hunt throughout the city, those warriors would, at best - if luck was on our side - consider our proposal. Do you understand me?"

Saren threw his hands up, rolling his eyes; Benyamin had folded his arms and had a wary air to him, while Katherine stood in total, utter stillness, her expression fearful. "What authority is higher than you and your high-ranking brethren? Besides the Doom Slayer, obviously."

Jack glared back in return. "We will not speak further on this matter. Demons have begun to assault key strongpoints between stacks fifty to one-hundred; there are both Inquisition and Slayer-aligned guards posted in these areas, but most of them are initiates training on how to man positions, carry out patrols, and the like. Veteran units are spread abominably thin down there. A failure," Jack muttered, "on my part in anticipating a demonic ability to simply teleport all throughout Gaia. Thus, my order: you three will equip yourselves for war, join a convoy of warriors from all four combat branches the Exitium has to offer, and assist with the cleansing of those areas, beginning with the Inquisitorial Command and Control centre located on stack one hundred. Securing the facility and its surroundings will allow better coordination, ease logistics, and give us a better launchpoint for operations in the lowest stacks."

"I've only been as low as stack one-twelve," Benyamin offered, "and only then on training patrols. Are there none better suited to this operation? None of us are familiar with the terrain, and, ah-"

"-I am unblooded against the unholy enemy. I am but an acolyte, my first mission a failure. I…I am not worthy," Katherine added, her voice wavering only slightly. "If you would permit me to say so, honoured Patriarch."

"Did I say you were unworthy," Jack snapped, "or perhaps you presume your opinion counts for more than mine, child?"

Katherine withered under Jack's gaze and simply shifted from foot to foot for a moment.

"Saren, Benyamin, the two of you have operational command over the Inquisitorial detachment. The civilian population between stacks fifty and one-hundred numbers less than a thousand, and by the most recent census, all lay claim solely to worship at the Church of the Slayer alone. You will be reinforced by the warriors of the assault, and once liberated from the duty of solely defending their strongholds, those posted at the garrisons in those stacks will be free to assist you. You will be fighting demons, so unless there is some unknown band of heretics which has escaped the Inquisition's notice taking shelter in the second most-securely guarded part of Indomitable your duty is simple. I will not hear of you two failing me and the people of the city again. The convoy is assembling now in the third motor pool, and is due to depart in three hours. Take up arms. Don your wargear. Go." Jack gestured with a flick of his hand towards the door. "Dismissed."

In solemn silence, the trio began marching down the walkway back towards the entrance of Jack's office - until he rapped his knuckles against his desk, and called out.

"Acolyte Shepard!"

Katherine turned, her head inclined. "Y-yes, Lord Patriarch?"

Jack's mouth flickered towards a smile for just a moment. "Every Inquisitor was an Acolyte once, and Lord Arterius was once a fresh-faced recruit in his own military. Prove your worth to yourself, not me."