+ Sorry for the delay. But I have a good reason for the delay +
+Apparently my country of residence censored this site due to "Moral concerns".+
+ I've managed to work around this only recently. +

+ I've also started a commission site for my art. Finances have been pretty tight so I've started a and Ko-Fi. So please tell me if you feel like I should share my Ko-fi or . I don't want to make money off the IPs I write since I don't own them and don't want to get sued. So only do so if you wanted to support me personally for art or personal reasons.+
+ I'll try to update as much as I can. But I do have more worries and far less time. +
+ This chapter is where things trungle forwards and characters develop more. +

+ Chapter X: Shades of Strife +

+ 001. M42 +

+ Outside of Plantation #13: Cerasus +

Raucous sounds of battle polluted the arid desert air outside of Plantation #13 yet again. Screaming verniers of thrusters of Squad#13's Franxx units and earth-shaking footfalls of an Imperial Knight was only punctuated by the staccato of weapons fire. Clouds of dust and sand parted way as the colourful frames of Squad 13's Franxx contrasted against the robust, inelegant frame of Ave Rubrum trailing behind them.

Their target today was by far their strangest Mohorovic-class Bio-Titan. It was little more than a sphere on a single large stump of a foot-supporting three head-like structures. Each with a snapping maw filled with rectangular teeth. An abhorrent creature, deserving no less than extermination for the slight of its existence in their most benevolent God-Emperor's galaxy.

"Mohorovic-class sighted! Form up and surround it!" Ichigo's voice transmitted through the vox. "Freeblade, Strelitzia! Hit it and hit it hard!"

Squad 13 followed suit. Argentea and Genista split off to the left whilst Chlorophytum and herself cut to the right. While the Imperial walker rumbled onwards with Strelitzia following to his side to back him up.

"Purge the unclean! Let no Xenos live!" Casten's voice boomed from Ave Rubrum's vox speakers like rolling thunder. Eager to fulfil his duty to the Emperor today in holy slaughter One less alien until the planet is claimed for the Imperium.

Casten kept his calm, exacting the opening salvo with his Heavy Stubber paired with Chlorophytum's autocannons'. The relatively small arms did not affect the xeno. Klaxosaur bio metallic armour above a certain class was proof against lighter weapons. The walkers' shells and his own bullets simply bounced off its alien bio metallic skin. It became a cause for concern, however, when Genista's heavy Magma energy cannon shell offered the same results. Not wanting to prolong longer than necessary, Casten aimed his Thermal Cannon centre mass. A melta weapon scaled to a Knight-Titan, flash from the weapon's induced solar flare ensured that anything in its range was reduced to blackened shadows and molten slag.

"Watch your fire," Goro warned his squad. Basic marksman discipline kicking in not to fire in front of each other. One of the little things Casten applauded about Squad 13.

He tensed his arm and willed his command to his noble armour, Ave Rubrum fired. "Have at thee!"

A beam of pure heat lashed from the knight's cannon barrel and struck the spherical xenos. But to their misfortune, the beam seemed to not affect the thing. Not even evidence of being scorched by a weapon that could melt tanks to slag.

Rather, it dented inwards like a force applied against a rubber ball. The heat seemed to part on the Klaxosaur's surface as if it were water sprayed on the hull of a Baneblade.

"Uaaahh!? even his monster ray gun didn't work!" Miku gasped with dread awe.

Any other time the Knight would have corrected her as his weapon was not the mythical rare Volkite weapon. On the battlefield, however, idleness kills. His mind raced to find a solution. At the speed of thought, studded adamantine clad mechanical fingers flexed before locking down to form a girded fist. Mind impulse receptors activated the power field in Ave Rubrum's Thunderstrike Gauntlet. Writhing arcs of disruptive electromagnetic energy wrapped its halo about his metal fist.

Casten seethed inside Ave Rubrum's cockpit. Righteous zeal sang loud inside his beating breast, its fire tempered by cooled conviction to see the Xeno fall for opposing the Emperor's will by existing against him. An instrument of the Emperor's fury.

Such was the will of Ave Rubrum's Anima.

"Let's finish this darling!" Zero-Two gave voice to his intent, to which Ave Rubrum's metal head nodded once.

Strelizia became a red and white blur when she boosted ahead with her skirt-like thrusters. Lance lowered and a grin on her simulacrum features. Zero-Two was exhilarated at the prospect of a challenge. Casten could feel it. An infectious sentiment that spread through their unique bond. A smile spread across his mortal face; something the Freeblade was grateful that Ave Rubrum's featureless faceplate gave no clue to.

"Form up and pin it so we can get a good hit in!" Ichigo had read the situation and the pair's intent.

Energy swirled and crackled around the weapon when it's disruptor field activated. The Freeblade recited a litany of fury and operation for his armour's Anima, droning it from his Vox speaker in a mumble. The Klaxosaur didn't seem to make an effort to avoid the coming blow. Casten was determined to make it regret that.

The Parasites responded immediately with a series of affirmatives. Magma energy enhanced blades raised ready to skewer it from all sides.

Perhaps anticipating this; the Xeno raised it's three head-like appendages and their gaping maws and began to spin. A torrent of blue sludge gushed out from each head. Though the FranXX halted their attack and attempted to fall back, Ave Rubrum continued his attack. His mass and momentum were incapable of stopping even if he wanted to.

The Knight-Titan's Ion shield flickered to life for a brief moment. However, it couldn't halt the deluge of blue sludge from drowning his livery.

An icy sensation stabbed at his skin as sludgy fluids splattered all over the Knight Titan's chassis. Ice became fire when it began to sizzle and bubble at Ave Rubrums paint. It was some sort of acid! The shutters of Ave Rubrum's ruby optics moved, shifting in reflection to Casten's surprise. Warning klaxons screamed of imminent danger and angry warning runes played havoc across his simulacrum vision before the torrent of slime streaked across Ave Rubrum's metal visor and blinded him completely.

Casten's eyes stung, he felt tears welling up in his mortal eyes as the anima tried to clear his optics. But it was too late to stop and reset Ave Rubrum's stabilizers. Three hundred tonnes of Imperial metal stumbled on his charge. Servo motors whined in protest. Still, Casten pushed on and swung Ave Rubrum's crackling Thunderstrike Gauntlet blind...

-and missed.

The Freeblade had swung too soon. His crackling fist of Adamantine crashed into the ground with a deafening crack and a blinding flash of cerulean light just before his Xenos target! Its disruptor field erupted upon impact! A pillar of sand pulverized rock, glass and dirt towered into the air!

Such was the force that not just the Xeno bio-Titan; even the three hundred tonne mass of Ave Rubrum was sent stumbling backwards. Strained joints and suffering stabilizers whined and creaked as they tried and failed to right the Imperial superheavy, sending him falling onto his back.

The FranXX of Squad #13 fared worse. Shouts and yelps of alarm filled the vox network as Squad #13 was sent sprawling in all directions, cratering the desert with their none too gentle landings.

Ringing filled Casten's ears. There was a throbbing, pounding pain in his head. It felt like a freshly struck bell in a cathedral of the Imperial Cult. Static tinged the edges of his simulacrum vision. He blinked, seeing flashes of the darkness within the cockpit that he could see with his human sight. Then his sight returned to being that of Ave Rubrum's optics. The unexpected impact had jarred his communion with Ave Rubrum.

"Darling?" Zero-Two's voice filtered in.

He fought the pain, angry red runes and protesting canticles of integrity warnings screamed in his mind. Quickly clearing the static that tinged the edges of his simulacrum vision. The Freeblade castigated himself internally for his failure and muttered a litany of rebooting and redemption, willing the frazzled anima of Ave Rubrum to recalibrate and clear his display.

"Ngh- Pay me no mind." Ave Rubrum's head shook, slime mostly clearing from under his visor. "The foe is before us."

"Ew! What is this stuff!?" Argentea raised her arm to inspect the sludge that coated her.

Argentea tried to shake the blue sludge off her arms. "Ew! Get it off of me! It's all sticky and gross!"

Said FranXX raised a hand to wipe away the viscous blue semi-liquid from her face and clear her vision. The others recovered shortly after. For his part; Ave Rubrum's system diagnosticators read that his armour's Anima and machine spirits were sated and undamaged.

"Everyone okay!?" Ichigo asked through Delphinium.

"I-I think so. It doesn't hurt…" Ikuno said within Delphinium, raising her cannon to inspect what coated it.

"Zero-Two?" Ave Rubrum's tone was filled with concern for his partner.

The Imperial Knight's head remained fixed on the downed Xenos but Casten willed a pict-link to Strelitzia to check on her. The Franxx's smiling face was projected in the corner of Ave Rubrum's vision. She, in turn, could see Ave Rubrum's armoured visor. The Pistil's smug expression at his concern for she seemed to look through Ave Rubrum's unmoving visage and see the young man within.

"Seems fine." She grinned, grasping her lance in both hands again to examine herself and lowering herself to a ready stance. "Let's kill this thing."

The Freeblade quirked a smile at her enthusiasm. Said smile disappeared immediately when he heard cries being distressed throughout the vox channel"H-hey! What is-!" Zorome's voice through Argentea's vox transmission was cut off.

The same happened for Genista. "Koko-" Came the cut vox transmission of Futoshi's voice.

Save for Strelitzia, all the FranXX war engines shuddered. Have they been damaged in some esoteric way by the Xenos' attack? No… the Pistils would have reacted if such were the case. Ave Rubrum's augury systems would have warned him of such. This was some malfunction of their machine spirits, or worse yet, a form of attack unidentifiable by even his armour's thrice-blessed sensoriums.

"Everyone, don't stall! Form up and prepare for another attack!" Ichigo's ordered; her voice as firm as stone.

However, instead of complying to her command, all of Squad #13's machines rattled violently. The groans coming from their metal forms made for an unpleasant sound to Casten's ears, It was like the sputter of an unhappy machine spirit within an ill cared for Leman Russ. The Mechanicus would not approve.

Unseen and unaware by either pilot, the sludge that splashed all over their war engines, seeped through the seams of their Franxx and penetrated their cockpits. The blue goo coincidentally -or through unknown means of alien engineering- coalesced and began to drip above the Pistils exclusively of their two-man pilot seat.

The blue goop began to sizzle and steam the moment the Xeno substance made contact with their suits. Swiftly the thin skin tight suits began to melt in every one of the FranXX units. The Stamen getting a full view of the nude backs of their partners. The teenagers were too distracted by their partner's nude, shapely forms to pilot their machines.

Zorome was the first to break ranks; with the shrill sound of him squawking, blaring out across their comms.

A decidedly unbecoming shriek from the Stamen polluted the vox.

"Hey! Zorome! Don't lose your nerve!" Miku questioned her partner, tapping at Argentea's head with a clawed hand.

Unbeknownst to Argentea's pilots, Futoshi was facing an identical predicament. Except he kept his distress to a near-silent blubbering, much to everyone's confusion and overall detriment. Similar situations were playing out across all the FranXX units.

Kokoro too voiced her concern. "Futoshi? Is everything alright?"

Argentea tapped at her head with her clawed hand. Expressions of shock were stuck frozen on their digital faces as the rest of Squad 13's FranXX units tried to move. The rigidity of their sluggish movements spoke otherwise.

Casten was worried beyond comparison. The sudden halt of their momentum, the silence, the panic across the comms. Casten's mind veered drastically towards the unthinkable. Whatever has halted Squad 13 to a standstill. His mind instantly concluded to the worst possible conclusion.

They were compromised.

"Y-yeah! Everything's fine!" Zorome's answer was unconvincing.

Squad #13 machine spirits were possibly undergoing corruption in their machines. He knew his duty. He emptied his heart and prepared to grant them the Emperor's Peace. His blood felt like ice in his veins as if feeling his cold intent.

Paranoia nagged at Casten's mind. The bellicose will of Ave Rubrum was making himself known in Casten. He was warned of this… corruption of the human spirit by techno-arcana unsanctified by the adepts of the holy Omnissiah. From his youth, he was told of the horrors of the Dark Age of technology and the Men of Iron. The glories of mankind brought low by their creations and hubris.

The Freeblade would not have it.

Ave Rubrum swivelled towards Argentea. Casten, son of his ancient house, prepared to induct the 'final intent' to Squad #13. He levelled his Thermal Cannon directly at the cockpit. It will be painless… They will be with the Emperor soon enough.

"E-eh!? Casten?" There was confusion in Miku's voice was clear. Confusion... and fear as the FranXX's baby blue eyes widened. "H-hey… What are you doing? This is no time for a prank… t-that's Zorome's thing…"

Casten did not respond to her plea, a moment of weakness will be all it takes for his will to falter. "Though our time was short, may you find peace in the Emperor's embrace..." Sanctified optics glowed a searing hole into Argentea's very soul and in them was found no matter of jest.

"Casten! What are you doing!? Stop!" Ichigo demanded.

Friends and squadmates watched helplessly. Their sync and connection to their machines were compromised and unable to come to the rescue of their friends. Immobile, by the time they could recover from their moment of terror and confusion, the terrible deed would be done.

Miku and Zoromer could see down the twin barrels of the Freeblade's cannon. Witnessing from gunpoint a marvel of human engineering where a fusion reaction in the chamber magnetically held back the artificial solar flare.

He said nothing, all he could do was utter a final prayer for the two."The Emperor Protects."

Casten's focus on administering the Emperor's Peace left him open for the benefactor of Argentea's salvation. Casten felt the world lurch, feeling his arm twist painfully in an odd angle before a sharp precision impact made contact on Ave Rubrum's carapace directly over the command throne. The Freeblade's head jostled painfully against his restraints. Robbing him of his senses for a moment. Muffling the sounds of alarm klaxons blaring both in his cockpit and communion with Ave Rubrum.

The moment passed and fury roared from his breast at the culprit. Strelitzia. Zero-Two.

Strelitzia had maneuvered her entire body into an armbar on the knight's Thermal Cannon appendage. While not entirely humanoid, the hold functioned similarly enough all the same. Ave Rubrum's weapon was locked and away from being pointed at Argentea, sparks flew from where Strelitzia's struck.

Her heel dug deep beneath the area where the shoulders met the arm, a common area of weakness if properly exploited. If Zero-Two pulled any harder, it would be no problem for her to rip its arm from its socket.

But that was never her intent.

She was trying to save her darling from a terrible misunderstanding.

"How dare-!" Before Casten can fully commit to his tirade, Zero-Two spoke firm and loudly in his thoughts.

"Do you trust me, darling?" Zero-Two's eyes bore through the shell of metal that is Strelitzia. She could feel her eyes boring into her loved one inside his noble mechanical steed.

Casten felt bewildered. His hot anger urging him to continue the fight and enact the God-Emperor's mercy. But his reason won out against his base instinct to stop and listen to the person he made his vow.

"Yes." His answer came as easy as a flowing river.

"Good," Zero-Two physically and mentally sighed with relief, but she could feel her darling struggling against her grip. "Calm down darling, it's all right. We are not in any danger."

Casten was honestly confused. He relented the tension in his arm and allowed it to slack. The iron finality and zeal in him leaving. This allowed Strelitzia to let go without a fuss and stand upright, retrieving her lance that she was forced to drop to pin him. While doubt was still at the forefront of his mind. He was intent on listening to what she had to say.

"Explain…?" he asked succinctly.

She smiled at her darling, satisfied at diffusing a possible disaster. "You'll see soon enough. First things first, the fight's still on."

Whatever passed between the pair was not shared with the squad. However, Ave Rubrum's armoured bulk turned back to the Klaxosaur that had only just then managed to right it's unnatural, malformed mass.

Consumed by fury, pounding footfalls carried the Knight-Titan forward into a headlong charge. Thunderstrike Gauntlet crackled with a promise of violence. Strelitzia dashed alongside her partner, pushed on a cushion of air. Her patience seemed to have run thin too.

"Casten wai-" Delphinium tried to move in and join the fray. However, Delphinium refused to move as long as only one of her pilots willed.

"Goro, what's going on!?" Ichigo demanded to know, Delphinium's features projected into her cockpit's pict monitors to look at her partner.

Her partner's flustered voice replied a moment later. "N-nothing! Sorry! Let's do this!" His voice was uneven and pockmarked with hesitation.

Zorome and Futoshi seemed to come to a silent agreement, nodding to each other through their pict link in their cockpits and getting their act together. Their war-engines began to move, but they had already fallen behind the already charging pair.

During the lull of the battle and the hesitation of its attackers; the unwieldy Klaxosaur had managed to right itself in time to see the charging pair of war-engines. It reared up to meet them. What passed for rage came in the form of a roar, challenging its attackers.

Ave Rubrum's glowing lenses turned to look at his partner. "Zero-Two. I will be your shield."

"Thanks, darling!" Zero-Two's smile projected upon her machine's simulacrum features as she dropped back and grabbed onto the rear of Ave Rubrum's armoured carapace.

"Focus Warsight," Casten commanded within Ave Rubrum.

Ancient techno-arcana within the Imperial superheavy whirred to life. A recent addition but ancient component taken from the Reliquary. Casten's simulacrum vision pulsed with a crimson red wave at the utterance of the command. Red alert runes appeared in his sight. Diamond tracking reticles zeroed in on each of its multiple heads, spherical body, and foot. Each one tracking a potential threat.

Such a warning came as anticipated when all three heads reared up. With a shrill roar, all three released torrents of blue sludge shot from its three maws. All aimed squarely at the Imperial Knight.

This time, Casten was prepared for the grotesque attack. Red warning runes followed the angle of each head to predict where their attacks would come from, allowing him to angle Ave Rubrum's chassis. His Ion shield rotated to face that angle, rerouting power usually allocated to his Thermal Cannon into his energy shield and servo motors.

"Everyone! Surround it again!" Ichigo's voice could be heard through the vox. Her orders followed quickly by a chorus of affirmatives.

It seemed Squad #13 had finally resolved whatever weakness had overcome their machines and rejoined the fray. Casten didn't have time to acknowledge this.

All three torrents of foul liquid struck as a rolling wave against Ave Rubrum's lowered pauldron. It felt like someone was slamming a hammer into his shoulder with someone pushing that hammer along with constant force. Casten dug Ave Rubrum's Adamantine footpads into the dry earth and pushed on. His advance seemed inexorable, but his momentum was slowing the closer he got. This force did manage to slow the superheavy walker's stride, whining servo motors and a blast of heat from his exhaust stacks.

"I got you Darling!" Zero-Two said as Strelitzia pushed behind him before Ave Rubrum could be pushed back. Her thrusters flaring in bright cones, heat washing across the desert, turning yet more of the sand and dirt to soot and glass.

Squad #13 took advantage of the creature's focus on Ave Rubrum and Strelitzia. Goro's command came through. "Now! While it's distracted! Hold it down!"

The four FranXX units split up to surround the Klaxosaur. Each side of the creature saw a different FranXX stab Magma blades into its spherical body. A shrill roar of pain broke the constant jet of sludge. With the constant pressure gone, Ave Rubrum saw a burst of movement. Ave Rubrum's Thunderstruck Gauntlet was hung low and crackling with his anima nagging their MIU link with wrathful anticipation as the Freeblade was finally upon his target.

In three strides he was upon the Xeno. Disgust and hatred became righteous fury!

Casten raised the Thunderstrike Gauntlet high, bringing it down where the Xeno's three head-stalks connected. A weak point according to his Warsight. This would prevent the foul creature's malformed body from simply absorbing the impact of his blow like before.

"Cease! Your! HERESY!" Each wrathful word punctuated by a thunderous punch fuelled by righteous zeal!

All Xenos were an affront to the God Emperor's greatness! All saboteurs of His Imperium's dominion of the stars! All must be vanquished to the altar of his glory!

Explosions of vile blue ichor and crumpled biometal showered all present when the weapon's disruptor field discharged with waves of crackling energy. Said energy rippled and tore through the Xeno monstrosity.

Crushed between the steely adamantine fist of the Imperial Knight and the hard, dry earth. Despite this, however, the damage was limited to a crater in the spherical body. Whatever the Xeno was made of, its flesh seemed to absorb whatever energy was directed at it. Casten approximated the sensation of striking a highly dense mass of sentient rubber.

Worse… the thrice-cursed Xenos had the audacity to knit it's flesh and metal back together as quickly as he could damage it.

Casten growled in frustration as he pummeled the creature over and over. Each strike from the blessed Gauntlet smashed and rented the Klaxosaur's alien blue flesh and black metallic shell. Adamantine fist wreathed in a crackling disruptor field and propelled by mighty servo motors and the Freeblade within's holy hatred.

"Obliterate it! Unchain your fury! Shatter the Xeno's blighted existence!" Casten roused the others. Hoping to fan the flames to end their native enemy.

Zero-Two was the first to find herself infected by his passion. A wordless grin framed her beautiful features as she vaulted Strelizia over to crouch on Ave Rubrum's pauldrons. Magma energy pumped into her lance as she joined in the assault. Large red blade stabbing into one of the heads regrowing from where it was severed, blue alien blood splattered and stained her machine's white armor.

"Do it," Mitsuru said within Cholorphytum's cockpit. He clutched the control handles attached to the thighs of Ikuno's suit.

The one visible eye on the FranXX unit looked back and paused but didn't question her Stamen's decision. Their connection was strained at the best of times. Now wasn't the time to test it by contradicting his controls. As the only FranXX to have her magma blades as her feet. Both Chlorophytum's arms shifted and retracted into her forearm to reveal the recessed autocannons within.

Following her example. The others began to attack in turns where they could. They alternated between holding down the still struggling Klaxosaur and striking it. They lacked the sheer hatred and zeal that Ave Rubrum struck with. More surgical and probing to find the core of their target. Argentea and Genista were hesitating more than the other two.

At last, their combined efforts of bludgeoning, shooting and stabbing through the tough hide and rubbery flesh of their adversary bore fruit. A glimmer of the crystal core was briefly exposed before the sinew reknit itself over it's most vital organ in a vain attempt to delay its demise.

Everyone had the same idea. "There!" Every one of the teens shouted in unison.

It was large for a Mohorovic. Located at the very heart of the sphere. All at once, blades, fist and shells struck the core in a heated frenzy. Until Strelitzia dealt the final blow that sealed the Klaxosaur's doom. Magma energy raced through the umbilical cord of her lance. Before detonating its volatile exotic payload. Thus the Klazosaur met its end like its brethren before it, with a customary explosive fountain of blue gore that completely coated all of Squad #13 and its honorary member Ave Rubrum.

"I'm beginning to despise these Klaxosaur Xenos more than I already did," Casten grumbled, shaking Ave Rubrum's head to clear some of the dripping slime.

"It's cold and yucky…" Miku said, Argentea's form shivering as she hugged herself at the same time as try to get alien blood off herself,

Even the usually placid and expressionless Ikuno scrunched her features up in disgust. "It's even in our cockpits. I can feel it."

"L-let's just get back," Goro said, already steering Delphinium into the hangar.

His friend seemed nervous… or tired? Casten didn't ask on the matter. Perhaps Goro was just tired. The Freeblade could feel his own weariness in his bones.

+ Later +
+ Plantation #13: Cerasus Hangar +

Outrage, outrage and anger simmered in Ichigo as she set Delphinium to dock in her berth. Every single time she felt like she was close to understanding the Imperial boy. He did something inexplicable! He could act like a cold, callous jerk all he wanted, but he *dared* threaten her friends.

She couldn't… wouldn't forgive him for that.

"Ichigo wai-" Goro tried to stop her.

Unfortunately, she already climbed out of Delphinium's cockpit, storming across the gangway that connected the Franxx to the Imperial Knight's berthing alcove.

Ichigo waited, stomach simmering in the pit of her stomach as she watched the bulky Imperial walker stepped back into the hangar. There was a small part of Squad #13's leader that feared Casten and more so, his partner. Both were monsters in their own ways. But anger eclipsed any sense of fear in the Parasite.

It also apparently numbed her awareness. The parasite didn't even feel the cold air on her bare torso. Though she may not have noticed because it may have felt no different from the tight skinsuit the parasites usually wore.

The scuttling, hunched form of Magos Biologis Marek passed her in a clattering of mechanical appendages. He was muttering something of 'Xenos biofluid weapons' or another. She was too angry to pay much attention.

There she waited, heels impatiently tapping against the Imperial Knight's custom berth whilst Brigid and her work crew of servitors retrieved decontamination hoses and prepared for their charge's arrival.

Ave Rubrum was the first to dock inside his own alcove within the hangar. The familiar feeling of drowsy mercury that filled his mind. Casten's Throne Mechanicum rose from the dark space within Ave Rubrum's cockpit. His vision was blurred as his helmet's visor lenses took over with the Freeblade's communion to his armour seeping away and his human senses slowly waking.

There was some pain. Casten understood now that there always would be pain when disconnecting from the anima. His limbs felt heavy, muscles sore. Casten's senses were burning; lights and the sounds in the hangar of the FranXX units docking sparked a pounding headache.

A hand groggily raised to cover his helmet's eye lenses to plunge him back into the temporary relief of darkness.

Whatever relief he gained was broken by the sound of clicking heels on the metal gangway.

"Zero-Two?" He asked, expecting his partner's usual routine of receiving him upon their return.

Today proved an exception. It was Ichigo that was first to greet him with shouts and outrage. "What was that!?"

It was fair, Casten decided, for she didn't know the threat of corruption that was very much reality to him. Ichigo's sudden shout made him flinch as a spike of pain in the Freeblade's head. He knew this was coming but dared to hope she would hold her ire until he was recovered from the severance of his connection to Ave Rubrum.

No such reprieve for the Freeblade, unfortunately.

"I assumed you corrupted." He groaned. "The enemies of mankind are just as deadly without as within. An open mind is a fortress with its gates unbarred and unguarded."

"You didn't think to ask us first?" Ichigo growled.

Casten finally lifted his hand to remove his helmet's eye lens to look at the parasite. Only then did he notice that her skinsuit had been ruined at her torso to expose bare, pale skin. He couldn't help but raise a brow with bewildering curiosity. Whatever foul sludge that had sprayed them in battle had somehow done this. How and why was the concern of Magos Biologis Marek who was taking samples in vials of the blue fluid that still coated Ave Rubrum.

Why, by the Emperor's infinite wisdom, would a xeno weapon dissolve only the clothes on their bodies? What sort of evolutionary selection necessitated an acid that did no harm to its enemies except one's garments?

Incredulously perplexed as he was, he did not really care. So Casten just simply chalked it as yet more evidence of xeno inferiority -further yet stupidity. Nonsensical and not worth an iota of his mental energy.

The Freeblade rose to his feet, looking back down at the comparatively diminutive girl. "Would you not have said anything to avoid the Emperor's peace? I take no pleasure in it. But each must do their duty… even at great personal cost."

Before Ichigo could come with a rebuttal, a girlish squeal filled the hangar followed by a sharp smack of skin impacting against skin.

"Ow! That hurt!" Zorome's voice yelled.

"PERVERT!" Miku screamed as she leapt from Argentea's cockpit. Her hands covering her bare chest and groin, her face a shade of bright red.

A similar squeal came from Genista. Kokoro this time. Sans the obvious slapping. Both Stamen emerged from their cockpits. Zorome rubbing the new hand-shaped red imprint on his face.

"A-a-a-..." The girl before the knight stammered.

It was then that Ichigo's eyes went wide with realization. Her face became a shade of red not unlike the crimson red of the heraldry of the Blood Angels' Astartes. Slowly, she turned her head and met Casten's impassive gaze. Realizing

A girlish shriek followed Ichigo as she ran down the catwalk to follow her fellows into the changing rooms.

A snort came from beside them. Strelitzia had docked whilst the two were occupied and Zero-Two peeked from her cockpit. Her cheeks puffed up and hand over her mouth as she struggled to contain her laughter. It was also then that he noticed that she too was nude, her skinsuit similarly melted by the acid. Her cyan eyes, bright and filled with mirth, looked into Casten's deep blue.

"Amused?" The Freeblade stretched in place to relieve his exhaustion. Nudity, especially in Zero-Two's case, long since accustomed as a fellow knight.

His partner rose. She was well aware of her bare body and struck a pose to show off to her darling. Hips cocked to the side with a hand on it to emphasize her athletic figure.

With a wry grin, she blew a kiss. "Aren't you?"

Casten let out a soft chuckle, he shook his head towards his partner's antics. A shared sense of mirth travelling mutually through their bond. He stepped close, pressing his forehead to hers regardless of the two small horns that dug into his skin.

"Thank you, Zero-Two. You did the Emperor proud today," The Freeblade didn't need to specify what she had prevented him from doing. "Stay. I'll get something for you to make decent."

Zero-Two watched her darling as he disappeared into the corridor to retrieve something for her to wear. Her eyes lingered on the ringing sound of metal against metal, drawing her attention to the side.

It was Brigid. The only other person besides herself to always be at Casten's side. The cyborg woman was plugging… herself, into the Freeblade's Throne Mechanicum. In her hands was a dataslate that was filled with ones and zeroes that formed the blessed Lingua Technis. Unblinking blue eyes were transfixed on the device, processing the reams of code provided by the Knight Titan's Diagnosticator so that she could heal this child of the Omnissiah.

The pinkette scrutinised Casten's Sacristan with a curious stare, leaning as she was on the lip of Strelitzia's open cockpit. Come to think of it… this was the first time the two had been left in each other's company without her Darling.

Adeptus Mechanicus… no matter what Casten told her, she couldn't help but see Doctor Franxx in the woman. She was just like him in many ways. Physically she'd given her body to machines. Sacristan Brigid seemed just as result driven and mechanically efficient.

Yet, she smelled different. Where the Doctor's mechanical body was the bitter tang of raw motor oil, Brigid's was scented. Incense clung to the woman's long robes from hours of devoted prayer. Her piousness to the Imperium's Omnissiah set her far apart from Doctor Franxx's atheism. She knew there was a reason for it, seeing the broken images through her connection to Casten like misplaced snippets in her sleep.

"Ask what you will." Whatever musings Zero-Two were broken by the woman speaking. Apparently having enough of being stared at. "It is the duty of all the Omnissiah's faithful to provide knowledge."

The Parasite's teal gaze travelled up and down the cyborg woman's form before she took Brigid up on the offer. "Are you still human?"

Sacristan Brigid took pause at that, lowering the dataslate to look fully at Zero-Two. Even she had to admit it was easy to think the Mechanicus were… other.

"Of course I am." The blonde woman flatly stated.

Zero-Two's gaze gained a slight edge at that. How could she say she was human so confidently? When Brigid was almost entirely machine. While Zero-Two herself was time and time again considered a monster?

There was anger in the Parasite's voice when she spoke next… anger and jealousy. "How're you human with all… that?" Her teal eyes scanning up and down the Sacristan's mechanical body.

Brigid's auditory augers did detect the change in Zero-Two tone. Cogitators recognized the emotions in her voice. Thrice blessed by the Omnissiah, Cogitators linked to her brain gave a list of possible emotions based on her analysis. Though the Abhuman's feelings were irrelevant; the Omnissiah's will to spread knowledge had to be done. Especially in this case, steering the conversation to better further His holy purpose.

"We are all human, equal in the eyes of the divine Omnissiah. Even Abhumans like yourself were given His blessings in the Great Crusade." Brigid said. "Of course, not all servants of the Omnissiah are as welcoming as Sir Casten."

"Darling?" Zero-Two perked up at that, a shine in her eyes as Sacristan Brigid brought up a topic of her interest. "He thinks…"

Brigid nodded. "It goes without saying. To him, you are just as human as anyone else."

Zero-Two beamed at that. For her part, Brigid allowed herself to feel a small degree of satisfaction slip from her emotional control sensorium. Her data and prediction to the conversation proved correct. They might make a servant of the Omnissiah in the Abhuman yet.

The Freeblade's return to Zero-Two with his trench coat in hand. To which was draped over his partner's shoulders, ill fitting though it may be. It seemed something good had passed between Sacristan Brigid and her if the parasite's idle grinning was anything to go by. At least there was some goodwill today despite Casten's earlier mishap.

"You have been found wanting in that skirmish." Brigid said.

A nod came in reply. "I will endeavour to improve. My unfamiliarity with the blessed Thunderstrike Gauntlet is due to my own negligence and adherence to the blade."

Indeed, there were many mistakes made on his part. Much to his shame and consternation. A Knight's skill within their armour is a mere reflection of their personal skill at arms. Each is only an extension of the other. Casten had always preferred the rending slash of Reaper chainsword to the cumbersome but mighty blow of a powerfist.

Even Zero-Two said nothing of the exchange. It appears she knew as well as anyone else of his shortcoming.

Brigid did not, nor will ever entertain such weakness. "Unacceptable. Omnissiah's will is for His servants to achieve their utmost and strive to better serve. You will train under my supervision."

"Your supervision?" The Freeblade raised an eyebrow, incredulous at the prospect. "Forgive me, Brigid, but I was not aware that my own Sacristan is a master at arms."

At those words, the gang of work servitors that had been working on clearing the blue slime-acid off Ave Rubrum's chassis and a few of the bulky, grotesquely muscled guard servitors turned. Glassy eyed stares may not have held any higher thought. But the murderous will given to them by their mistress was shown in their flexing of bionic appendages and baring of attached power tools and weapons.

A lesser man would on instinct draw for his weapons in self-defense. But he knew his camaraderie with Bridget were not so flimsy like a traitor's. He held his hands up in the air in a surrendering fashion. Showing his intent of non-hostility. Zero-Two crouched down to him to protect her love, but a withering look from him told her to stand down.

"Remember who Iam Freeblade. You are still young in the Emperor's service, I have no need to be in order to execute a Xenos simulation attack." Harshly she finished, she waved a bionic hand, and Servitors smoothly resumed their previous tasks.

Casten relaxed. "Your point is clear. I am humbled" He allowed himself a moment of relief. He bowed in deference to Brigid for this brief moment of wisdom.

"I will send the data packet with your hours for training to your dataslate." She said, smoothly returning to her ministrations on Ave Rubrum with a recital of the Canticles of Restoration to ease the walker's repairs.

"My thanks. As always." The Freeblade bowed.

Zero-Two seemed to want to protest if not for her partner pulling her away. Training… he already did plenty on his own! What would more do other than take more time away from herself being away from her Darling!?

She fumed at this, grip tightening on his hand as they moved along the familiar path to the barracks. He could feel it. Her discontent. Even without their empathetic bond the pinkette's questioning stare could be felt like the murderous gaze of an Ork that spied a good fight in the Freeblade. Her grip on his trench coat draped over her nude body tightened as she decided to address him first.

"Why?" She asked, tone accusatory.

A firm gauntlet on her shoulder shook her from her glare. It was Casten, his expression gentle but determined.

He shook his head and glanced at the servitors. "I'll come straight to you after this… Freeblade's oath."

This seemed to satisfy the pinkette, if barely.

+ Plantation #13: Cerasus +

+ Shower Room +

"Did you see the way they just ogled at us as we fought for our lives!?" Miku's outraged rant had gone the entire way to the shower and didn't show any signs of stopping.

Steam wafted from the hot water of four running showers filled the room and condensed across every surface. Almost like the water hitting the bodies of the occupants didn't so much cleanse them as it steamed from their anger and indignity made heat.

"That's just how boys are." Ikuno's dispassionate tone couldn't hide the venom that ran deeper than just her words.

Most didn't hear that venom. Most.

"Tsk!" Miku clicked her tongue."They're such disgusting pervs."

Through the exchange, their squad leader remained uncharacteristically silent. Goro tried to tell her that the boys didn't say anything because they didn't want to put them in danger. She knew her partner wasn't a liar. Yet… he stared at her naked body just like the others. Some part of her doubted if he didn't spit those words as an excuse just like Zorome. Or ogled her openly as there was something else bothering her. So much so that she was only half-heartedly washing herself and listening to her squadmates. As with so many things lately, it pertained to the Freeblade.

In an odd sort of way, she was thankful that the… mucus incident had Miku completely forget said Imperial was ready to incinerate her little more than an hour prior.

"What's with him..." She muttered to herself. "Just when I think I get him…"

Thankfully the sound of water pattering hid her low voice. But she had to address the point as their squad leader… just not the part that was actually bothering her. "We've finally managed to link well to our partners and this happens… It'll be a huge problem for morale."

"H-hey maybe we all just need to calm-" Kokoro's timid voice was cut off by Miku's explosive conclusion to her venting.

"No! I'm sick of being ogled by them!" Her outburst shocked Kokoro into silence.

Nobody seemed to notice her attempt at calm. As always, she was drowned out by the momentum, or they did hear her and simply didn't care for calm compared to avenging their lost dignity and punishing their partners' seeming contribution to that effect.

Ichigo sighed, finally having enough of listening to Miku ramble. "Since you're so fed up. Why not give us a solution?"

The question wasn't meant to have an answer. Really the raven haired girl just got tired of hearing Miku's complaints. Said girl, however, defied expectations with her reply.

"Damn right I've got a solution!" Miku leaned out of her stall, hair matted and dripping wet. Her expression was fixed between outrage and annoyance. "Let's stop living with the boys!"

The others leaned out of their own stalls, features similarly wet but their expressions varied from confusion in Kokoro's case to intrigued curiosity in Ikuno and Ichigo. Perhaps it was the sheer ridiculousness of the declaration that shocked them into silence.

+ Plantation #13: Cerasus +

+ Training Room +

Festooned still in his carapace armor, Casten trudged inside the near featureless training chamber. There had been no time allotted in the data packet Brigid had sent. Just a message for his immediate presence. There was no fanfare in the message nor eloquence, it demanded his arrival despite his aching muscles and lingering effects of psycho-stigmata.

He would be remiss in wasting his Sacristan's time.

Her gunmetal grey robes and many bionic blessings stood apart in the middle of the large, near featureless training hall like a steel island in an empty ocean. It was clear what little time Casten rested, Brigid had used to prepare. Training servitors littered the grounds on standby, their dimmed state modified to mimic the Klaxosaur Xenos' with their bionics emitting vibrant blue neon light and black iron shells screwed into whatever flesh remained, further removing their humanity to mimic the xenos. Servo arms stood in place of alien appendages, light training autopistols affixed to their bodies and limbs.

"Approach." Brigid's instructed. Cold and blunt as the steel that replaced her flesh.

A large plascrete case laid at her feet, it's compartment leveled as high as her waist.. As he approached, he noticed the heraldry of House Zelius carved into it's marble-like surface; something valuable of his family line laid inside. A small pict monitor of a biometrics cogitator flashed to life with Casten's approach.

Casten's eyes widened under the red tint of his visor's eye lenses. "This is..."

Brigid silently nodded. Stepping away from the case to allow the Freeblade a moment to acquaint himself with its cargo.

Hesitation bubbled towards the surface. Even now, almost a full Terran year after Avalus fell and his House now with the Emperor, he still felt hollow, unworthy of any of his family's vaunted relics as a Freeblade. Still, Brigid laid the case before him, so it must have significant purpose. He tapped at the activation rune with a mutter of the Litany of Access.

A hiss of stale, pressurized air expelled from its sealed confines. Clockwork gears whirl and thunderous clanks of heavy pins were unshackled from its numerous locks, the case opened to reveal a distinct and most unsubtle weapon. A powerfist! A rare weapon to behold in any battlefield though in this case its construction was slimmer and more compact than most patterns the Freeblade had seen. It uncannily mimicked Ave Rubrum's Thunderstrike gauntlet at first glance: the oversized gauntlet and pauldron were both pearl white whilst the rerebrace was storm grey, all of which was rimmed in silver.

He wasted no time hefting the heavy gauntlet with a grunt. It took some maneuvering to get his Carapace armour sections off. Brigid assisted to expedite the process, fitting in the powerpack and latching its apparatus to his armour's backplate.

"Tang-war pattern powerfist. Artificed and thrice blessed by the upper priesthood of Volund." Brigid explained as she made the final adjustments for the Knight to slip his arm into the cavity of the venerable gauntlet..

With the gauntlet now comfortably fitted, Brigid released it to allow human muscles to lift the Freeblade's new armament.

It was oppressively heavy; servos and stabilisers had yet to be activated. Testament to it's design unaided by activation, his strength faltered against its weight, shoulder sagging to the side beneath its mass. Fortunately, his upbringing and gene therapy before his very birth compensated. Remarkably even through the weight, Casten was comfortable wearing it. Fingers clenched and responded fluidly, its weight distribution was centered on his back rather than him pulling the gauntlet against gravity.

"This is...nothing short of exquisite Sacristan but…" Casten paused trying to gather his words at being gifted such a weapon. "Pardon my ignorance Brigid… I am not wholly unfamiliar with the rites of the Priesthood. We first met less than one Holy Terran year ago. The rites to procure a weapon like this, to my limited understanding, take far longer."

"Do not be mistaken Freeblade, this is not a gift." She tersely answered without pause, making final adjustments to the power pack unit. Rites of First Linkage accompanied a binaric cant in Lingua Technis as she willed the machine spirit with unintelligible heard the sound of metal latches click together to his MIU umbilical. A hum signalled the power pack being activated. His armour's display registered the linkage with a flash of green, accepting the powerfist to his integrity display as green blocks arranged into a human figure to represent its status.

"Recite the Litany of Awakening, Sir Casten." She instructed, lowering the cold metal plug the skin behind his head.

Though the Freeblade had prepared himself for it, the feeling of connecting to a new Anima still elicited a grunt from the young man. It was like the sensation when connected to his Knight Titan. He tasted metal on his tongue and a tingling shiver that ran down from his MIU port to his right arm.

Yet he could feel nothing even as the prayer droned from his lips.

New wargear is always looked upon with suspicion compared the great relics with millennia of service. All machine spirits had their own animus. From the most basic public dataslate terminal to the ancient and venerated God-machines. The silence within his direct connection to the new weapon led to disquiet in the it's wielder.

Yet he would not doubt the holy craft of the Omnissiah's chosen. Nor his own weapon. Thus, he flexed his fingers inside the gauntlet. A prayer of the Litany of Awakening this time followed by a quick recital of the Litany of Wrath.

As if rewarding to his faith; the oversized silver digits hissed closed to form a fist.

Icy, almost a cool stab of acknowledgement from the weapon within his mind implant's connection buzzed when servo motors whined. The space his human arm occupied was engulfed by the electro-artificial muscles expanded and contracted. Awakened with life, the weight was not entirely gone, but it's debilitating oppression transformed into reassuring power.

"... Fits better than any I'd trained with." Casten observed, rolling his shoulder and moving his arm experimentally. Each movement gave voice with the velvety purr and hiss of active servo motors.

"It should be. This venerable weapon was artificed to suit your frame." Brigid said.

Casten decided then to press the question once more. "Truly? Humbled as I am by your consideration, Sacristan. However, my question remains unanswered."

Unblinking eyes stared at him for an uncomfortably short moment before she answered, calculating how best to best relay the knowledge she had a duty to share. "I had mentioned that I dedicated my service to your late house many years ago."

The Freeblade nodded.

"In my long decades of service, I have served beyond my duties as a Sacristan. I oversaw the production and sanctification of Knight Titans, fashioned masses of Wargear for Volund itself. I am even allowed to oversee aspirants and nobles during their training who valued my inquiry. You were no different."

She gestured to the power weapon he now bore. "During your lifetime, I have deemed you sufficient in the use of anti-armor/anti-personnel melee weaponry. So after I received blessings from the Magos at the present time, with much labor I artificed the power weapon you now bear. I was about to present it to you. But the fool -may the Omnissiah be at peace with him- Grand Master Aidan believed otherwise..."

A dark umbrage tinged her voice when she spoke of his grandfather's name.

Casten remembered now, and shame filled him as realization swept through him. "I see...I remember that day. You had an argument with him...Grandfather always spoke at every opportunity the virtue of the sword and lance… and I followed blindly with his charismatic word to forego the oafish hammer and fist and to extol the superiority of the sword."

"Indeed." She punctuated. There was no sign of any emotion on her porcelain doll features, though if she were smug to be proven right…Brigid would be justified in it.

Casten recall when he had been cautioned to better familiarize himself with a heavy weapon by their master-at-arms. But his grandfather had dismissed it, reasoning that any scion of his need only concern themselves with the mastery of the blade. Others could have the cumbersome powerfist should they choose.

Did the mighty primarch Ferrus, the saint of steel himself, not use a hammer to dispense the Emperor's enemies? What logic was there to dismiss and limit oneself from a valuable weapon?

The folly of youth, and the foolishness of a child who should have known better.

"From that time, all the way then...this has always been mine isn't it? Casten gingerly touched the gauntlet, feeling the cool metal on his human fingers of happier, even if ignorant times.

"Correct Freeblade," She simply answered. No trace of smugness this time around but one of compassion in shared loss "I implore you to spend your time wisely, to make up for lost time." Gesturing to the activating servitors in the room.

"My thanks Sacristan. I shall appease the machine spirit thricefold for my neglect. May the Omnissiah bless you." Casten said, the oversized mechanical digits closed into a fist. Crackling energy swirled around the gauntlet punctuated by the humming buzz of its power field that promised violence.

He steadily made his way into the edge of the arena, and steeled his mind. "I am ready to begin."

+ Plantation #13: Cerasus +

+ Squad #13 Barracks: Mistlestein +

"What the heck is this crap!?" Zorome demanded, pointing an angry finger at the white line drawn in the floor that one sidedly declared to be the limit of his freedom that he so enjoyed.

Almost the entire floor of the mansion was split in half by white tape. Everywhere but the entrance was divided by this impotent marked border. Signs crudely drawn that stated the intent. For the girls and boys to be segregated into their respective labelled parts of their quarters.

These signs, impotent as they were of any material or barrier, served arguably as well as any refractor shield generator. One of social and emotional deterrence. Such was the subject of the meeting that Ichigo called. Pistils on one side of the border and Stamen on the other. Divided by this invisible barrier marked only by a thin line of adhesive parchment.

The brunette boy glared across the border at his opposite member.

Miku, for her part, refused to meet his gaze. It was the boys that ogled them whilst they were fighting for their lives! They were justified in taking measures against them! It was more of a wonder that Ichigo agreed to the idea, but none of the other pistils voiced any opposition to her plan.

"A line that you aren't meant to cross." Ikuno answered in Miku's place, unable to hide the venom dripping in her voice. "From now on, no boys beyond this line."

Zorome scowled. Nobody was telling him what to do! Especially not Miku of all people! "No way! You can't do this! I'll just step over-"

"Just. Try. It." Miku growled, daring him to try something.

A chill up his spine before he could even put his foot down on the other side of the line. All the girls -save one- glared beaming daggers at him. Cock sure daring-do shrivled to a pathetic, cowering whimper in an instant. Fear paralyzed him by the combined weight of feminine implication was clear: cross that line and unspeakable things would happen.

It was a volatile swirl of emotion that stewed in the lounge room. A bubbling broth of adolescent indolent dissatisfaction. Even here, the expansive lounge room where they were meant to relax had that irritating tape that kept the boys sequestered on one half of the circular couch. Evening light from the simulacrum sky filtered through the tall windows as a dim orange glare that only highlighted the Stamens' dour mood.

"This sucks!" Zorome voiced his frustration. "Why should we be punished!? Not like we melted their stupid suits off!"

"Mhmm… Kokoro was just so beautiful. I mean… How could I look away?" Futoshi lamented, sheepishly touching his fingers together as his features reddened at the recollection.

Goro stood at the edge of the low table. As ever, trying to reason with the Stamen of Squad #13. He felt an odd sense of obligation to do so. Perhaps as the partner of their squad leader. Perhaps because he was trying to stand where another once stood, someone that wasn't in the realm of the living to play the role of everyone's friend anymore...

"C'mon guys... They can't come into our wing either. It isn't just us being limited here…" Goro tried to reason, gesturing to the other half of the empty lounge.

He couldn't deny what they did, even if they couldn't help but look at their partners. No matter the justification. The best Goro could hope for was to make the others see the bright side in all this and stop this fiasco from escalating. Judging by his lack of success, that was not the case..

Mitsuru was first to leave, rising from his seat and casting the others a dismissive glance. "I'm leaving, this fight is stupid. I'm not taking part."

"H-hey! Wait, Mitsu-" Goro aloof boy to stay, only to be brushed aside.

But he was already gone. The others took his cue to leave as well, seeing no point in staying and stewing in their already bitter mood.

"Feh! I'm going to go play ball!" Zorome said. "C'mon Futoshi!"

For his part, the overweight boy simply followed along for lack of anything better to do. "We'll… if Kokoro doesn't want to see me I guess there isn't much I can do…" He said, visibly deflating to reflect his spirits.

Goro despaired but remained silent. Hands curled into clenched fists as his head dropped low. Frustration simmered in his heart as every Stamen dissolved from the room. He was unable to ease any of their frustrations. At times like there Hiro would know what to do. Now more than ever he was feeling the gaping void his treasured friend left behind.

He was left alone in the lounge, evening light giving way to darkness.. While he mourned to fill a spot in their lives he was incapable to replace..

"What do I do Hiro…" The blond whispered into the creeping dark, tears forming on the edge of his eyes as he waited for his friend to answer.

Only silence answered his weeping cry.

+ Plantation #13: Cerasus +

+ Training Room +

There was a sense of clarity achieved only in combat. A heightened state of awareness achieved through desire to vanquish his foe and self-preservation. Zeal fueling fury and righteousness fueling stalwart determination.

How long had he been training? Two hours? Three? Long enough to make his body feel like heated lead in his armour. The thermal bodyglove worn under his armour was already struggling to regulate his body temperature.

The helm's glowing red eye lenses stared at his quarry with tempered readiness. Power fist clenched tight, grease and ichor evaporating from the electromagnetic field from its earlier victims..

Three augmented thralls attacked. Metal plates rattled and pistons hissed as they moved with animalistic, inhuman gait. One rushed him head on in a lurching charge whilst the other two moved to flank him on either side.

His body had grown heavy. Exhaustion came faster to him than usual. He knew why; his neglect to accustom his body to the power weapon paid the price for his ignorance. His single minded determination to the sword was considered a virtue in his scion's eyes, but by that same virtue, he quickly realized he could not adapt the principles of the powerfist with the ways of the blade.

The Freeblade levelled his plasma pistol, the normally copper-brown coils charged a blazing blue. The following energy bolt discharged with a shrill electric scream of it's enraged machine spirit.

A scorching bolt of superheated gas struck centre mass and detonated in a momentary starburst of heat and molten metal.

Taking the time to aim had a price. The leftmost target reached him first, striking before Casten had time to respond. Metal jaws snapped shut around his left arm in a grip so powerful that his Armaplas vambrace audibly cracked! The pistol still clutched in that hand was stuck pointing uselessly into the ceiling.

Red warning runes flashed across his ocular display. The integrity display of his armour flashed colour gradually changing from bright yellow to deep amber.

Pain bloomed in his mind as he felt the crushing force of the iron teeth threaten to rip off his limb! Spiderweb cracks ruptured and grew across the plate, forming uniform craters like the surface of a frozen lake. Teeth clenched under his visor as he pushed through the pain. Snarling the Litany of Wrath, he wound his gauntleted fist in a sweeping backhand. The mighty blow shattered the entirety of the assailant's upper skull which exploded into a thousand fragments of skull, brain matter and bionics.

Before he could even think the shadow of the other servitor from his right loomed upon him. Servo arm wide open to snap the Freeblade in two!

"Defensive maneuvers Freeblade! Lest I mourn your loss and of your companion before I grant myself the Omnissiah's mercy!" Brigid lectured, her many arms folded behind her back.

He heeded the warning as the momentary terror fleed in the face of his renewed resolve. Casten widened his stance and bolted his feet imagining himself like a rock against a flowing river. Powerfist raised to guard like a shield, widening his profile and baiting his foe. The Freeblade allowed the oncoming mechanical jaws to clamp around it. Plasteel teeth scraped and snarled around his gauntlet, unheeding of the damage proximity of the powerfield was ravaging its body appendage.

The servitor leaned its heavier body against his smaller form, but Casten pooled his strength and pushed!

"I will not yield!" He bent his knees and launched himself with the simulated klaxosaur with a feat of strength that belied his size, toppling his larger foe to the ground. Him pinning the servitor on its chest as he raised his power fist high towards the heavens.

He roared as he swung a blazing electric blue fist like a streaking comet towards his foe's head. A thunderclap reverberated through the training hall in a brief flash of lightning.

The Freeblade's felt his own heartbeat pounding in his head, exhaustion finally taking its toll. But the adrenaline combined with delirium caused him to go into a blurry trance. Near complete mental exhaustion but pushed on by determination and zeal; he didn't realize that he had been punching the dead carcass over and over and over again until he had pulverized the servitor so thoroughly that his powerfistfist smashed a crater into the floor through the mashed remains.

Slow claps brought Casten out of his dizzying high. He looked towards the source of the sharp sound of metal fingers percussioning against Brigid's equally metal clad palm. Her expression was as flat and unemotional as ever. The sacristan was, by some Omnissiah miracle, completely untouched and spotless by the mess that had become of their surroundings. Even her long robes were spotless. She closed her unblinking eyes as she clapped, more of a symbolic gesture than of any real need to do so.

"Well done Freeblade. I will be expecting better results in our next session. Once I have procured more training servitors." She formed the sign of the Divine Cog. "Praise be to the Omnissiah for blessing us with the means to better ourselves."

Casten watched, drenched in sweat beneath his armor and unable to respond save for a small nod. He watched passively as the Sacristan excused herself without looking back.

Adrenaline was finally leaving him, slumped into a sprawled half on the ness that remained of the servitor he crushed.

"Freeblade? I need to talk to yo-Ugh!" Nana said upon entry to the training hall. But her senses were assaulted by the most acrid and putrid of odours.

Nana's senses were assaulted with a wave of delirium as soon as her nose was assaulted by the conflicting smells. Oil and blood and whatever there was in between overwhelmed her senses as signals in her brain tried to make sense of such atrocious aromas.

Gore was not new to her; as she unfortunately was intimate to such sights in her life. More than one Franxx pilot had been killed in her time. However, she had always kept her distance from such moments. So that she was always in control of the situation.

The sights and smells that assailed her, however, forced her body to go into a series of dry heaves. While the familiar sight lessened the impact, the added smell gave her a whole new experience.

She could make out the metal and flesh of the 'training servitors' Sacristan Brigid supplied to her in the data packet that was to be utilized in Casten's training session. Zombified tech-thralls that the Imperium was so fond of using as cheap disposable labour. Nana expected Casten to perhaps beat the servitors as reusable dummies and thus be able to serve their purpose in the near future.

Apparently she underestimated how the Imperium viewed 'disposable'.

Casten had evidently been at this for a long time, judging from the number of remains strewn in various states of ruin. Neither was the Freeblade himself untouched. His unmarred carapace armour was now scruffed, peppered with dents and cracks. Black and white livery scratched to bare metal where blows had weathered it down. His entire apparel coated and stained in the gore of machine and man the same way as the walls were at points.

Exhaustion was evident in his laboured breathing. Despite what should have been a controlled safe environment for training, he looked like he was fighting for his life!

On his back, Nana couldn't help but let a gag escape her lips, he laid flopped on the ground, his head on a mass of meat of a servitor whose chest cavity was crushed. Now it was aiding him as a makeshift pillow while its white synthetic blood and guts served as his gruesome bed. Nana steadily approached the youth, filtering the smell with the collar of her uniform. It drastically helped with the smell since she could just breathe through her mouth more than her nose. He was exhausted and it looked like he could use a helping hand.

He tried to stand under his own power, but it was clear his body had enough. Limps moved but gave way before fully taking his weight. So she stepped forward through the squelching of oil and synthetic blood staining her usually immaculate shoes as she waded through the techno-organic detritus.

Nana held out a helping hand for the tired boy that lay there in the filth.

He none too graciously accepted, grasping her extended hand with his unpowered gauntlet.

Such emotion played out in her mind as she watched from the observation deck above the training chamber. Bright, teal eyes stared as he fought. Elbows rest against the guardrails and face resting against her upturned palms.

There was little she could explain in words, from the Communion she shared with her Darling. Zero-Two relished this unique connection she had with the boy from space every minute he came into her life. No matter how many times she repeated to herself; there was only joy she felt in her heart of this soul that held no lies and no secrets.

No… not just her bond. Casten himself, as she came to know him, never hides anything from her. His… 'code of honour and chivalry', meant he didn't allow it. She loved that part of him, honest and true to himself. The memory of their recent moment on the Titan had a grin creeping onto her doll-like features.

It was a giddy feeling that lingered since he confessed his love for her on the corpse of what Casten called a 'God-Machine'.

The pinkette watched as he put his all into killing the fake, tiny Klaxosaurs the toaster lady loosed on him. She could feel the raging fire of emotions that bled through to her while also blinding her that sent her into a thrill. She wanted to jump down and join him, such was the infectiousness of her darling's passion.

His devotion to his Emperor. The purity of his purpose. The zeal that goes into his actions. Every swing of his fists and aimed bolts of plasma that spoke of surety in the doom of his enemies.

It was...too beautiful to put into words.

Even in service to his Imperium, following orders from his Queen and Knight of his empire.

Too absorbed in her internal monologue that she almost missed the amusing sight of Nana retching at the sight of the gore her darling made. She didn't like them, anyone in A.P.E, Nana though...

Nana eventually made it to where darling was, slumped over in the ruined chest of the servitor he now lay in. Zero-Two now invested, leaned forward closer in anticipation, to see if she was correct what she thought Nana was about to do.

The caretaker lent out a hand, fully aware of the filth that covered him, unheeding of it all even if it greatly discomforted her.

Her darling took it.

Zero-Two frowned. She vaulted from her spot, pink hair flowing as she moved, white heeled shoes stained by the gore and oil.

Unsurprisingly, Nana tried to haul him up on his feet, but with his own weight added with his newly reacquainted powerfist, it proved too much for the older woman. Zero-Two chortled, there was no way a weakling could lift. Which grew into a fit of giggles that she was able to keep hidden at the comical scene since the drama she was expecting of her succeeding did not match the reality.

Her amusement was edged and held a condescension. The woman was weak, too weak to help her Casten. No, she was the only one fit to stand at his side.

A familiar voice broke through the haze of exhaustion that broke his concentration of Nana pulling at his left arm to the sight of the pinkette on his right.

"Come, darling." Zero-Two all but demanded.

With her prodigious strength, she grabbed at his gauntleted fist and dragged him to his feet.

His legs wouldn't hold. The Freeblade was still in no condition to properly stand. Zero-Two hooking the knight's arm across her back and over her shoulders. Even fully supporting his weight, Zero-Two didn't seem too hindered. The filth that smeared on her didn't seem to bother her either.

She stared at him as he staggered to a sort of shamble at her side. "You reek darling!"

"I am aware." Casten dryly acknowledged. "Let's go for a bath."

Satisfied, Zero-Two looked over her shoulder to look at Nana. "Ne Nana is there something you need-" she trailed, her question falling "-from darling?" She locked onto the caretaker with a firm, almost glaring look.

What unsettled even the wild and unpredictable Zero-Two was the empty look that Nana had in her eyes. It was glazed and unfocused. She knew the look well, A.P.E's brainwashing was many things horrible, agonizing, but it was never perfect.

"Hey. Stop touching what isn't yours." The pinkette demanded.

Eyes narrowed under the baleful red eye lenses of Casten's he knew that gaze as well. Unfortunately common in veterans of the Knight Houses, and the Imperial Guard. This of course included members of his own now deceased family. Himself too, in his most private moments of prayer and reflection that only Zero-Two was privy to.

"Zero-Two." He whispered in her ear. Her eyes darted to meet his own through the lenses "I beseech you to help Educator Nana... gently."

She nodded, uncharacteristically subdued. Perhaps feeling an odd sort of kinship with her experiences. The Pistil waved a free hand in front of Nana's face. There was no effect. The vacant gaze still persisted. Deciding on a more direct approach Zero-Two instead opted to snap her fingers in front of her. The loud snapping sounds brought out a reaction by the returning life in her eyes. Zero-Two repeated this until finally Nana gasped and clarity returned to her much to Zero-Two and Casten's relief.

Nana briefly remembered what she was here to do and to her embarrassment that went against her conduct, she was still holding onto his hand. Not knowing how long she must have held it.

"I-I'm sorry it's just…" Nana struggled to find the words, thanking herself for always keeping a handkerchief on her person. Trying her best to wipe away the viscera that still clung to her.

Casten ignored this. No need to dwell on her loss of composure. Rather, he was worried for her mental state and through their empathetic bond, Zero-Two was too...in her own way. "Are you alright, Caretaker Nana?"

In an unnatural and disturbing swiftness of her returning to her smiling demeanor which only made it seem horrific considering the current backdrop, Nana answered accordingly. "Thank you for your concern, but don't worry you two. I'll be fine… after a bath" Nana gestured to her stained, ruined clothes.

After a moment, Nana cleared her throat. "If you have the time. Would you like to join me for tea?"

The Freeblade stared at her after the unexpected overture before nodding. "I humbly accept… after we've cleansed ourselves."

Nana smiled, raising a slender hand to brush aside a stray bag of hair before waving him goodbye. "This evening then?"

"I want sweets!" Zero-Two chimed in before Casten could answer, hopping in place under his arm and shaking the sore young man… much to his protest.

+ Plantation #13: Cerasus +

+ Squad #13: Mistlestein +

All was not well in Mistlestein. The separation between boys and girls didn't make things much better. In fact, it was making things worse. Resentment between the two sides was building as each side's chores had to be done without the others' help.

With the bath barred to them the boys resorted to bathing in Mistlestein's lake.

The feeling of cool, crystal clear water against their skin was refreshing. Almost enough to distract them from their recent troubles.

"Pwah~! This feels great!" Futoshi gasped as he rose from the water like some sea creature breaching from the deep.

The others agreed, if not verbally. "Well… silver linings I guess?" Goro offered.

In truth, the blonde haired boy was deep in thought, trying to find some way to stop this separation. Make the girls see reason; that the boys weren't to blame for the unfortunate events. Ironically, the inspiration for which came from the most inflammatory of their group.

From his position floating in the water and kicking his feet through to paddle around on his back, Zorome still voiced his indignation. "What's the big deal with being seen naked? Not like I'll complain if they see us naked like this right?"

"Seeing us like this…" Goro's eyes widened. "-That's it!"

The pistil's quiet, peaceful afternoon was disrupted by the unwelcome sight of the nearly nude boys coming back into the mansion. Clad in nothing but their white swimsuits and still dripping wet. They tracked water in, leaving dark stains in the red carpet and leaving puddles on the wooden floor.

Miku, always the most vocal of the girls, expressed her disgust openly. "Would it kill you to put some clothes on after you finish!? How did you even get wet!?"

The auburn haired girl's expression shifted, squeezed tight like she had just bit into something sour. "At least dry yourselves! You're leaving a mess!"

None of the boys paid her much mind beyond the odd glance that indicated that they had indeed heard her and were just choosing to ignore her. Until, that is, her partner passed by at the end of the line. His face, bearing that smug look of childish satisfaction at her discomfort. It pulled a nerve in Miku that prompted one of her brows to twitch in annoyance.

Her reaction only deepened his satisfaction. "What we do on our turf isn't your damn business."

Zorome rubbed salt into the proverbial wound by taunting the girls as his fellows simply went about their business. The precocious Stamen danced and scratched his head and chin not unlike some simian.

"Y-you..!" Miku fumed, fists clenched and practically shaking with rage.

A firm hand on her shoulder was all that stopped the girl from slapping her mischievous partner. It was the ever impassive Ikuno. When she looked back to question her squadmate for stopping her from giving her Stamen the much deserved justice he was so begging for, it was clear the spectacled girl's gaze was fixed on something else.

The other Pistils followed Ikuno's gaze.

Standing at the ajar entrance was the pair that had been absent since their last sortie. They had only just gotten out of the shower, with a towel slung over the Freeblade's shoulder and droplets of water still visible in both their hair. Wearing little more than light shirts. At first Casten seemed puzzled by the adhesive parchment on the floor. Zero-Two, for her part, looked more amused than anything else.

"I've been meaning to tell you both." Ichigo said, nudging past her fellows to meet the newly arrived pair. "From today, we're segregating the barracks by gender."

"Hmmm...don't care!" Zero-two nonchalantly dismissed Ichigo's little declaration. Swiftly sliding next to her partner and proceeding to drag him away.

Ichigo, miffed as she was at her behavior, was not surprised. That response was expected from the odd parasite by now, grasping her at her almost maverick personality.. The leader of Squad #13 sternly tried to relay her message through eye contact at the honorary member of Squad 13 to reign the parasite and urge for her cooperation.

Disappointment, however, was to be her response. Casten shook his head. "Whatever petty grievance ails you, I am certain that is something worth my notice. I must respectfully refuse," came the dismal reply. "We must be off now. Your superiors require our presence."."

Ichigo watched as the pair moved past her. Following pink hair streamed behind the constant source of her ire as she left with the Freeblade in tow. But none of the girls missed the look that Zero-two's sent them. A smug smirk on a knowing shine in her bright teal eyes. As if daring her to try and order them around again.

Annoyance tightened across the squad leader's gentle other Pistils watched the exchange in tense silence as said leader's small hands curled into fists and glare as they rounded a corner on their way to their shared quarters.