Chapter 10: Journey I
"This.. this has gone to hell."
"Pessimist." Xiān headbutted him hard. Ikharos scowled and swiped at the Ghost, but she danced out of the way in time. "It's not so bad."
The Warlock pointed. "The Kuasta is still burning."
"Shut up and let me console you." She huffed. "Right. So we know there's a Dredgen wannabe that-"
"Not Dredgen. No Thorn. Only a similar presence."
"Why couldn't I get a cool Hunter... Okay, so we know there's a Not-Dredgen that leads an Urgal host. Yeah?"
"Yes."
"He has a sword that obviously isn't normal, but it isn't quite beholden to Sword Logic. Too... clean, you said. And he has your sword, now."
"Yes."
"And we've heard - from a book in a library, I might add - that there used to be dragons here. That right?"
"It is."
"Finally, and this is the most important one, there's a Warmind up there in the sky trying to keep this tempor-thingymajig contained. Correct?"
"Temporal anomaly."
"You know what I mean. That's... three issues. Just three. Not-Dredgen, possible dragons and Warmind. All very mysterious. Sounds like something we can manage. None of it's Oryx-level bad."
"So far. You forgot that something had to cause all of it. That's what frightens me."
"You know what? You're on your own." She landed on the cool grass and shook her fins in displeasure. "Cheer yourself up."
"Thanks for trying?"
"Oh, shut up. What's our next move?"
Ikharos clenched his jaw. "Hunt the Shade."
"You wanted to see me?"
"Ah, yes!" Ertharis gestured to the place next to him on the bench. "Please join me. I am gladdened to hear that you are well. Tell me, Ikharos, what shall you do now?"
Ikharos paused for a moment, mulling it over. "I'm going to kill that Shade."
"What you propose is no easy feat. Only a handful have ever slain a Shade in the entire history of Alagaësia."
"You won't be able to dissuade me. This is what I'm here for. To secure this land from agents of the Darkness. "
Ertharis dipped his head. "Then I wish you fortune in this endeavour. When will you leave?"
"Tomorrow." He hesitated. "Will this place be safe?"
The monk nodded. "The empire has searched for it since Galbatorix took the throne to no avail. We are hidden here. Safe. And we will continue to uphold our sacred purpose here."
"I wanted to ask something: what is it the Arcaena does? Why does the empire hate it?"
Ertharis smiled. "We compile knowledge for the Cataclysm, when the surviving descendants of our people will need it most. We take the truth of the world and write it down as it should be, with honesty and humility, even if people such as Galbatorix would rather it be their truth."
"And this Cataclysm?"
"We know little, only that it is coming. Green fire will fill the skies and terrible songs will fall on the land."
The Warlock froze up. "How... What warned you about this Cataclysm?"
"The Grey Folk."
"Who are they?"
"I'm afraid I know too little of them. They have long been absent from Alagaësia."
Edmont and Tellesa were at the monastery's gates by dawn with traveling packs by their feet. Ikharos joined them. He knew what they wanted
"Ertharis told us," the sailor said. "We want to join you."
"No," the Warlock said immediately.
"If you don't, we'll track down the Shade ourselves," Tellesa told him. She was still angry with him. Her attitude was all Titan.
"And you'll die."
"Maybe you can teach us how to get past that."
"Enough!" Ikharos's ears popped; he reined in the Arc before it could manifest further. "This is not something you Lightless can fight."
"Too many people are dead. We can't stand by and pretend otherwise." Edmont stepped back and watched the Warlock warily, but there was no true fear in those eyes. He still trusted him. "We can't rebuild and we won't. There is nothing left for us but this single purpose. Don't deny us this. Please."
Ikharos sighed.
"They've lost everything. Let them have their vengeance."
"Fine," he responded. His tone sharpened to a cutting edge. "If you fall behind, I'm not going wait up."
Tellesa shouldered past him. "Then let's go."
Edmont shrugged, hefted his bags and went after her down the mountain.
The Risen closed his eyes. "Psekisk…"
They avoided Kuasta like the plague. None of them wanted to see the inside of it anytime soon. They followed the path of the Urgal horde back north. By dusk they passed the sight of Ikharos' earlier fight. Some of the bodies, those that had escaped his Void, remained in bits. As did the crater left by his Nova Bomb; the charred ground had completely crystalized.
Edmont gawked at the sight. "By the gods... what could do this?"
"I did," Ikharos grunted. "We need to move out of the open. No fire. I trust you brought your own rations?"
"Y... yes..." The sailor kept glancing back to the dead spot. Nothing would ever grow there again. The Void had its fangs in it.
There was a small indention in the otherwise smooth grassland only a little distance away. It was as good a place as any to set down. Ikharos took up position by the lip of it, Zen Rifle in hand. He glanced down to his new companions. "Six hours rest, no more. We'll be in the Spine before the sun rises."
He liked to travel in silence, if at all possible. Hunters understood that desire - or most of them did, in any case. It was what led them both, Hunters and lone wolf, to brave the wilds beyond the City. Ikharos found solace in the quiet. It gave him time to think in peace. The bustle and closeness of the City was something he was never comfortable with. He didn't know if Shaxx thought the same thing. Maybe that was why the Titan was always so loud: to keep people back. It worked to some effect. Most people valued having their sense of hearing intact. Ikharos didn't have that luxury on Kepler. Tellesa and Edmont were quiet, all things considered, but they were Lightless; they were yet another element to the hunt he had to worry over. Any more burdens on his shoulders and he was liable to collapse.
The Urgals were primitives, but they were expert survivalists. They split up into their war bands when they entered the forest, which played hell on Ikharos's ability to track them. There was no telling where the Shade was. His only direction was north. That was where they had come from and where they departed towards.
"How did you kill so many?" Edmont finally asked.
The Risen shrugged. "Because I have better weapons? Because I have Light? Guardians are always outnumbered. That's the kind of fight we train for."
"Yer people must be formidable."
"We might be. But our foes are greater."
They made progress. The Urgals were long gone, though he knew that they would stop at some point. They were mortal creatures. It was his hope that the Shade would be with the group they were tailing.
"What if he's with another?" Edmont asked. He was the mediator. Tellesa wasn't talking to Ikharos much, if at all. He would be lucky to get five words out of her in a day.
"Then we pick whichever creature speaks the best English and draw the information out of it by whatever means necessary," he informed them. He pointed to a small clearing. "We'll camp there. I'll make the fire."
Three of them sat around the small flame in awkward silence, waiting for the stew to bubble. Or, four of them, but Ikharos intended to keep his Ghost out of sight unless necessary. He didn't know if Kuirst told anyone else, but he decided to keep it to himself for the present. They didn't need yet another complication to get between them.
Ikharos grimaced. Something needed to be done. Edmont was frightened and Tellesa was too angry. They didn't need to get along, but they needed to trust one another and-
The Warlock leapt to his feet, drew his knife and tossed into the nearby undergrowth. The Urgal gave a heavy exhale much like a sigh, then fell over dead. The rebels jumped up with their swords drawn but Ikharos held a hand to keep them back. "That's the only one."
"It might have a warband!" Tellesa hissed.
"No. It was alone." He retrieved his knife and cleaned it on the Urgal's rugged armour. "But I think it means we're on the right track."
"How?"
"This is a scout. Look at it. Leaner than usual and nothing but the lightest of armour at their disposal. Someone assigned it to the role and sent it back in case they were being followed." He smiled grimly. "The Shade must have discovered that my body was missing. He's split his forces to confuse us. Either this band has an able leader or it's him. I must have rattled them..."
"What do we do?!"
"Wait here." Ikharos had his Ghost drop a rifle into his hands. Edmont only just stifled his surprised shriek. "If trouble finds you, use this. Tigerspite auto rifle. Always a reliable model." He switched the safety off. "It shoots small metal projectiles out of the barrel at high speeds. Do not look down the barrel. Pull the trigger to shoot."
"Sorcery..." The sailor mumbled.
Tellesa rolled her eyes and grabbed the weapon awkwardly. She needed some training on wielding it properly. A pity there was no time. "I understand... Where are you going?!"
"I'll be back before long," Ikharos told them. He ran off before they could offer up any objections.
He found the Urgals resting in a small glade. There weren't many of them. Ikharos slid down the slope without cloaking himself. It didn't matter if they saw him or not. He wasn't going to be quiet anymore. He had tried to be careful and considerate of this world and that had failed. Now he would make sure that these creatures knew what awaited them if they crossed a Guardian.
The moment they caught sight of him they panicked. They must have remembered his short slaughter of their brethren. And his subsequent death, because some of the shouting was reaching hysterical pitches. Ikharos had no mercy for these monsters. He tossed a Nova Bomb in the centre of their camp and killed most in a Void explosion. The survivors tried to run. He gave chase, killing each of them, until there was only one left.
The single Urgal displayed the same signs of terror that baseline humans did - wide eyes, high-pitched cries, shivering - which only furthered his theory that these were hominids. Even so the voice was wrong. The words too.
"Can you speak this language?" Ikharos said, standing over the horned creature. His hands and blade were dripping red.
The Urgal hurried to answer. "Yes, yes!"
"Good. Where's the Shade?"
"Me cannot-"
"Fine," the Warlock summoned a vortex grenade, "we'll do this a different way."
He returned by morning with his white armour stained crimson. Neither Tellesa nor Edmont looked like they got any sleep. The former aimed at him the moment he entered their view, but upon recognition the barrel lowered towards the ground.
"What happened?" She demanded.
"No Shade," he reported. "But I know where it has gone now."
Edmont stood up slowly. His bedroll wasn't even out of his pack. "What... happened?" He repeated.
"The Urgals were a future threat to other settlements, so I killed them."
"How many?"
"Twenty? Thirty? Near enough."
The sailor shook his head. "Yer not human."
"No, I'm Risen. There's a sizable difference." Ikharos wandered off to find a stream to wash all the blood off.
He let Tellesa keep the rifle. She would have been far safer with that than a simple steel sword if the Shade returned. He gave her a few basic tips (such as how to avoid shooting herself in the foot) and that was that. With them slowing him down, he didn't want to waste any more time on time-consuming trivialities. Edmont, on the other hand accepted no other weapon, content with his own maul and blade, and Ikharos didn't press further. It was a foolish decision to make, yet he had to respect the man's wishes, even if it was only based on fearful superstition.
They continued their hunt. It would have been impossible to take out each Urgal group, as the warbands were quickly moving on from the Kuastan part of the Spine. Their only hint at which the group the Shade was among was the route each pack took. Ikharos hazarded a guess that the one heading to human settlements would contain his quarry.
"We need to talk."
"Yes?" Ikharos tilted his head. "Then talk."
Tellesa set her jaw. She looked different, and not just because of the dangerous scar-tissue left by the burn. She was haggard with exhaustion and grief. Her eyes were the only thing truly alive, and only with fury. "Ertharis told me... told me to listen to you. Were you really... dead?"
"I was." Ikharos didn't flinch under the sudden intense scrutiny. He'd had his mind picked by fellows Warlocks in the past. This was nothing.
"I don't understand." She scowled. "Nothing makes sense anymore."
"You're right there." Ikharos turned around and kept walking. The woods were a confusing maze that would have led him astray if it wasn't for the Ghost leading him. The map on his HUD indicated they would cross mountains soon. Another few weeks of travel and they might make it to Woadark Lake. "I have been here for months on end and not one of my many questions have been succinctly answered."
Tellesa gave him an odd look. "I speak of you as well. You talk of fantastical, impossible things - things I can't believe.."
"I don't get a lick of it either," Edmont added.
Ikharos shrugged. "Few do, I've found."
They fell quiet, mulling over anything and everything. Edmont started humming a sea shanty to fill in the silence.
"It's quiet."
"It is, isn't it?"
"But I suppose it isn't for you."
Despite the expressionless mask in the way, the Speaker's gaze was thoughtful. "Maybe not."
The flippant answer pissed him off. "Does it care? At all? Its blessings are more of a curse to..." He waved to the Tower's railing, down into the city below. "... them."
"It wanted to protect humanity."
"And in doing so gave rise to our worst enemy," Ikharos spat. "Ourselves."
The Speaker adjusted the toy in his hand. They used to be bright and vibrant, those puzzle cubes, but the colours have long since faded to the same ivory as his mask. "Do you truly believe that?"
"Yes. I've lived it."
"As did I. Cathal was not kind."
"You lived under the heel of just one. I've looked down the barrels of hundreds of their guns. I've seen the thousands dead because of their greed and their gluttony. It doesn't take much to turn a Guardian into a Warlord. In the end, both are just Risen."
"And does it take just as little to turn a Warlord into a Guardian? Shaxx and yourself have adapted well."
"It was that or die."
"That's not what I've heard."
The Warlock growled. "It was that or let them die."
"Don't you see? There was always the Guardian."
"I still don't think it will last. The City."
The Speaker sighed. "Your words are dangerous."
"Words are cheap."
"Many listen to you."
"They want to see the last Warlord. The last real independent."
"You underestimate yourself. They look up to you. As they do Shaxx. You have survived and that is enough to earn their respect."
"So that's it? Exile, so I don't sway the crowd a way you don't like?"
"No. We do need you here. The old days are long past, but we need the Guardians now more than ever."
He wanted to ridicule the sheer irony of it, but Ikharos hadn't the will to do so. Not when the Speaker was right. Twilight Gap had shown him as much. "If we're all supposed to work together... what's the Traveler's part in this?"
The Speaker sighed. It was the sound borne of pent-up frustration and helplessness. "It will leave us."
He nearly abandoned the Last City then and there. But then the call went out and the Jumpships were warping to the Moon in the hundreds - in the thousands. He found the other Risen did listen, even as Boomer rounds smashed into the rock around them and the Deathsong melodies floated by. He tried his best to make sure everything he ordered of them saw them through alive, if not unscathed.
It didn't work as totally as he had hoped it would.
Every day was more of the same. They would wake, they would hike, they would stop to camp for the night, the rebels would be too exhausted to do anything other than make a meal and fall asleep. Then the cycle would begin again. There was little socializing in this time. Edmont was normally an easy going man, with many interesting tales of his exploits as a sailor to tell, but he had fallen into a depression following Kuasta's destruction. Tellesa was a curious and bright individual, yet all she presently focused on was revenge. Ikharos knew from experience that even if they succeeded, neither of the rebels would feel any better. It never had for him.
While they slept Ikharos planned. He needed to kill the Shade. He needed to reach out to the Warmind. He needed to understand the temporal anomaly. Above all else, he needed to learn more about the Grey Folk.
"What's the most outrageous thing ye've ever done?"
Ikharos had to smile. The memory was still precious. "The emperor to a collective of countless civilizations offered to turn me into one of his prized champions. I declined."
"An emperor?" The sailor asked, the small fire illuminating his face.
"I value my freedom very highly. And I didn't condone the lifestyle he entertains. Still don't. In fact I would have been in agreement with Ghaul's coup, had he not gone on to attack the City."
"Who is Ghaul?" Tellesa asked.
The Warlock closed his eyes. "An old foe. He outmaneuvered us through a sound battle plan that saw thousands of my people dead and the rest left drifting in search of a new home. We defeated him, eventually, but it was a costly war." Ikharos opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "What of you, Tellesa? Done anything questionable?"
"I bit an Imperial soldier's hand as a child," she admitted.
"How did you survive? They don't strike me as the merciful type."
"They aren't, and Rendan killed him."
"Ah," Ikharos nodded. He turned to face the third of their group. "And you?"
A broad grin split across Edmont's face. "I jumped into the ocean with a bunch of sharks. Didn't know thems were sharks, though. Thought they were dolphins."
"Dolphins?" His interest piqued, Ikharos leaned forward. "They are here?"
"I… uh, yes? Not here, but in the ocean. Why?" The sailor's grin faded to a frown. "Is this a bad thing?"
"NO!" Ikharos laughed. He couldn't believe it. "This is good news! I thought they were extinct! Ah, I should try to speak with them!"
"But they… ye know what, it doesn't matter. Just more wizard stuff, I 'spose."
000
Two Centurions engaged in the Tusking Challenges, horns locking together and heavy fists pounding against hard metal plate, while their squads howled and roared with approval all around the fighting grounds. It distracted them from the failure of the day before, the fall of Matlai. The Hive had pushed rigorously for the new territory, built on the bones of a hundred thousand Legionaries, and befouled the treasured cities with their dark magic. If he could, Zhonoch would have strangled them all, drowned them in their own green blood.
But there were more urgent matters at hand.
He passed into the backroom of the winehouse and forced a grin. The five soldiers, Legionaries all, glanced away from their dice game and watched him approach with narrowed eyes.
"Hail, comrades," Zhonoch greeted. "Not enjoying the rites?"
"Not enough room," one, the largest of the five, growled.
"Or wine," another added, taking a swig of a near-empty bottle. "Want a game?"
Zhonoch shrugged, rolling his plated shoulders. "I might."
He squatted and joined their hobby. When the big one gave him an expectant look, Zhonoch dropped fifty marks - half a rotation's wages. His new friends chuckled and added their own fortunes; they were playing for high stakes. When at last the dice came around to him, he inspected the carved bone, each side marked with a different beast from their homeland ranging in size.
"Warbeast!" Zhonoch declared, and tossed the dice. He always picked Warbeast.
His luck wasn't in the roll.
"Ah," the drinker, who sorely missed the last of his wine, observed. "Aphelion."
"Damn star-lizards," Zhonoch cursed half-heartedly. "Again?"
The big one huffed, but the drinker pleaded his case. "C'mon, Goroz, let him in."
The others took up the chance. "GOROZ! GOROZ! GOROZ!"
Finally, their seeming leader relented. "Fine!" He snarled, baring his teeth. "But you better present!"
Zhonoch presented alright. He held out twice the previous amount - an abnormally large sum.
The drinker chuckled. "You can pay."
"We all can," Zhonoch replied. There wasn't much to spend marks on when fighting on the front lines. A reality they all knew too well. "Warbeast."
"Again?"
"I always rely on a hound. There might be bigger, but none so bold." He rolled once more. His fortunes had shifted; a wounded whale. The biggest on the dice and food for all the rest. Zhonoch scooped up his own marks and left the rest in the pit. "Today is a good day. I won't ruin it for the rest of you."
The others cheered, all but the Goroz. The drinker celebrated loudest. "A toast!"
"We're all out of wine, you fool!"
"Not all!" The swaying Legionary stumbled his way over to a cryocontainer by the door. He opened it to reveal one last bottle, filled with the violet of real wine from the capital. "I'll pour!"
"You." The big one stood up and captured Zhonoch's attention, even as the others left the pit to fetch their cups. Wine from Calus' old gardens were prized commodities in an of themselves. It was difficult to ship anything other than essentials with Tombships constantly harassing the trade-lanes. "You're of a different command. Airborne maniple?"
"On occasion." Zhonoch could really use that drink. The environment of Chorobal was too unpleasant to brave sober, but he had powered through it to reach this garrison.
"On occasion?"
"Yes. Sometimes I fly. Sometimes I don't. It all depends on my mission."
"Ah," Goroz said. The sides of his lips stretched in a wide and hungry grin, revealing where a section of teeth had been knocked out. Zhonoch's best guess was that the Legionary got too close to a Knight. The bigger Cabal looked past him. "What's the hold up, Khu'un?!"
"Don't fret, you brute, it's ready." Khu'un, the drinker, handed Zhonoch a simple metal goblet almost overflowing with wine. A generous amount.
"To the return of Matlai!" Zhonoch began.
"To its rightful owners," Goroz added, watching the newcomer carefully.
Zhonoch lifted the goblet to his maw and-
His audial implants buzzed to life. "They mean to poison you."
-he splashed the drink into Goroz's eyes, blinding the Legionary long enough to draw his slug rifle and shoot the soldier in the stomach. He carried on, sending another two microrockets through another soldier, but a third knocked the weapon from his hands. Zhonoch engaged his wrist-blade and sliced the throat of that Uluru, but then a fourth was upon him, trying to fill his face with fists. Her tusks were short, but sharp. Zhonoch kept his head well back, lest she use them on him. He slammed a fist into her arm, destroyed her fighting stance with a firm kick, and stabbed her while she in the midst of falling over
Khu'un scrambled for his weapon by the cryocontainer, but Zhonoch shot his wrist-blade at the smaller Cabal, hitting him between the shoulders. The blade erupted into superheated shrapnel, finishing him off.
That left only the wounded Goroz, who furiously roared and slammed into Zhonoch, tossing him into the far side of the room. The big Uluru charged again. With Goroz's mass bearing down on him, the Zhonoch rolled to flank his opponent, elbowed Goroz in the abdomen and sent in two jabs to the side. Even without the warsuit Goroz would have been hard to put down. Heavy layers of muscle and fat protected his lungs and heart as well as any lightweight armour
"Down!"
Zhonoch dropped without question and the Severus intended for his neck buried itself in the steel walls. He responded immediately, going for Goroz's head, breaking even more teeth off with slams of his gauntleted fists. The bigger Cabal stumbled back. His swings grew sloppy, eyes unaligned. Zhonoch pressed closer, increased the speed of his barrage, then sent a cross that dropped the Legionary and sprayed a gout of black blood across the floor.
More soldiers burst into the room, guns at the ready. Zhonoch, out of breath, could only hold up a cloth mark bearing the emblem of the Soulrazers - the upper portion of a skull caught in a flaming wine goblet.
"WHAT IS THIS?!" One of the Centurions from the Challenge thundered into the room, her tusks dripping with gore. Evidently, she had won.
"Vigilant business," Zhonoch panted. "Investigating suspicious activity presumed to be treason."
The Centurion growled and her fists shook
Zhonoch grinned, that same expression that had won bloodthirsty crowds with his daring. "We won't be long."
"I'll send a pickup soon. Watch the others. Don't let anyone disturb the bodies. Or the wine."
He lumbered over to collect his rifle and waved to indicate the entire room. "Out, or the Soulrazers will have questions for you."
The mass of soldiers retreated, some more hastily than others.
"What was it?"
The Psion Specialist momentarily turned to regard the Cabal Vigilant. "Ground-up Worm carapace."
Zhonoch grimaced. "That's not poison. That's a curse."
Tlac returned to his work, his single eye absorbing all it could from the scrolling monitors before him. "I warned you, didn't I?"
The Vigilant left without another word, continuing down the corridor to the war room. Valus Mol'auv and his bond-brothers were already in deep discussion, but they spared a moment to greet the returning soldier before resuming their talks. Zhonoch stood to attention, still as a statue, and waited for the moment they would finish. Not long after, the Valus's bond-brothers were dismissed and he turned his attention to the Vigilant. "Our objective hasn't been reached yet."
"No? I killed them."
"The Flayers aren't sure that was all of them. It may stretch further up the chain of command."
Zhonoch cursed. "What next, sir?"
"We trace it to the source and nip it in the bud." Valus Mol'auv's eyes glinted. "Before the Witches break us open and the horde comes crashing down on our empire. You're being reassigned, Vigilant."
"Where to, sir?"
"Worldbreaker Cohorts I through IV will be accompanied by Soulrazer Cohort III. The Evocate-General has a plan to flank the Hive and cleanse our lost worlds of their sickness."
"Understood."
Zhonoch had been about to board the Harbinger waiting for him when the news broke through the private channels. Tlac must have picked it up early and sent it his way. The information was fed to him in a hallucinatory screen before his eyes, powered by his implants.
DOMINUS DEAD. CONSUL DEAD. RED LEGION SCATTERED. SOL SYSTEM LOST.
He almost jumped and bellowed with surprise. Zhonoch ground his teeth together; he had a flight waiting for him.
For the Staff of Evocate-General Umun'arath
From Soulrazers III Cohort/Strategic Intelligence Maniple
Subject matter: Traitorous reverence
I. Records, Materials and Attributions Pursuant To Analysis
Soulrazers III Cohort/Maniple 3/Vigilant 1
TASK:
- identify and eliminate traitors in contact with [WITCHES] within worldbreaker IV Cohort/Century 11/Maniple 1
5 Squad [LINE INF]
OUTCOME:
- vigilant eliminated [5] traitors bearing evidence of treason
II. Analysis
Squadron in possession of substances identified as being remains of Wyrms, parasites commonly found within living Hive specimens. Reports from Canaban indicate Wyrms are capable of growing to immense sizes, comparable to Ahamkara, based on sustenance obtained through unclear means. Psion Specialists report that Ahamkara and Wyrm occupy the same ecological niche. Imperial Decree IV dictates that all discovered Wyrm materials are to be destroyed immediately. Ownership of Wyrm materials is paramount to high-treason.
Squadron freely ingested materials knowingly and attempted to inject the surplus into the active Vigilant's drink. Vigilant noticed and did not drink, then proceeded to immediately eliminate squadron. Report indicates that further Wyrm-traitors remain. Requesting permission to continue investigation into Worldbreaker infantry ranks. Compromise individuals represent a major security risk, including sabotage and leaking of sensitive information. Whether traitors actively worship Hive deities or merely engage in trophy hunting is unknown - however, previous behaviour indicates the former. Immediate termination is advised.
We also request that all active combat units are to be reminded that Hive-related objects are NOT to be claimed as war trophies. Hive-remains present a major threat to units' mental state and impede a legion's ability to function at optimal efficiency.
For the Primus of All Legions,
Our highest duty done,
Unflinchingly loyal,
Soulrazers III/SI
For Soulrazers III Cohort/Strategic Intelligence Maniple
From Staff of Evocate-General Umun'arath
Subject Matter: Fall of Trappist System and cultist plot
I. Records, Materials and Attributions Pursuant To Analysis
Soulrazers III Cohort/Maniple 3/Vigilant 1
TASK:
- continue to accompany worldbreaker cohorts I, II, III and IV to epirion system.
II. Analysis
Evocate-General and Primus of Worldbreakers has declared that the prize of the Epirion system is of ultimate necessity to combating both Hive and Vex threats. Considering the failure of Dominus Ghaul, the Evocate-General has opted to be prepared for the dangers of the Sol system. Soulrazer Cohort III is hereby authorized to accompany the Worldbreaker legion and carry out further investigations.
For the Primus of All Legions,
Our highest duty done,
Unflinchingly loyal,
Staff of Evocate-General Umun'arath