"Remember. We're just simple mercenaries. We don't have to reveal too much about ourselves. We just take the money, rendezvous with the Arch Surg contacts, and go our separate ways. We all meet back up in Belfire within a span of two weeks. Got it?" Vasto's wyvern riders all nodded, and Vasto looked over his men and smiled. "These agents we're meeting with are supposed to be some of the best in the Grimleal, but don't worry. We'll get through this just fine, and we'll make a fortune for the Arch Surg. No longer will our forces have to go into battle without food or modern weapons." Vasto looked down to his own attire. He couldn't help but picture himself in more modern and ornate armor. "Plus I'm sure we'll earn a little finder's fee. Even a fraction of the bounty would make us filthy damn rich. I mean courtesans by the cartload rich!"

Vasto and his wyvern riders chuckled, but the moment was interrupted by the arrival of the Grimleal contacts. Vasto had been scanning the horizon for the Grimleal, expecting them to approach by carriage on foot. He never expected them to materialize in a flash of purple light not ten meters in front of him. A pulsating, sickeningly purplish black disc ascended from the ground, depositing about fifteen people as it did. These individuals didn't look like regular soldiers. Nine of them did wear very similar outfits, but no one was the exact same. The six in front looked distinct from the others and each other. There was nothing about them that immediately gave away their affiliation to the Grimleal, and Vasto wondered if he'd encountered some kind of special forces or political organization. The only reason he was sure they were Grimleal at all was their appearing out of thin air from some alien and horrible application of dark magic.

The woman standing in the very front barely looked half of Vasto's age. She wore simple clothing and looked little different from a mercenary or a hunter. She had icy blue eyes and light blonde, almost white hair. She looked soft and conventionally feminine. The eye was drawn to the others more than it was to her, and she looked entirely out of place with the tough looking men and women she stood with. The woman was confident in her posture and movements however, and her position in front of everyone implied she was the leader.

Yet for all that, the five individuals standing by her were far more intimidating and visually interesting. To the woman's left was a man of average height and build, with olive skin and brown eyes. His chin was pointed, and the entire lower half of his face seemed to slope downwards into it. He seemed to wear an apathetic and disinterested expression, but it was also possible that his strangely angled face just pulled down into that look on its own. The man covered his hair with a kempi, flattened and droopy from years of presumed wear and tear, and the Mark of Grima was emblazoned on the center. The man also wore a done up leather jacket, pants, and boots. All of the man's clothing from his hat to his boots was colored stark white. On top of all of this, the man wore a flowing cape that billowed down to his thighs. It too was a brilliant shade of white, but it also featured reflective golden highlights to accentuate it. Slung across the man's back, though not in such a way as to obscure his cape, were two large firearms. One was a long arquebus, the other a short carbine. No less than four wheellock pistols were strapped to the man's jacket, and fuse lit grenades of various sizes hung on his belt. As the group got closer to Vasto, he could see that these firearms featured shimmering and incredibly elaborate engravings of military campaigns on them. The man's entire look was as a constant assault on the eyes. A strange combination of heavy armament and vanity.

To the left of that man was woman sharing the theme of a physically unassuming individual made more threatening by their attire. The woman had slightly tanned skin and ethnic features indicating she was of Chon'sin descent. She wore a black beret, the Mark of Grima adorning it, and a red scarf tied around her neck. A light blue coat covered what appeared to be nothing more than a dark blue work shirt, but sashes strapped a number of tools and small weapons to the woman's chest. The woman's belt featured pouches and pockets of all kinds, and holders for even more tools were strapped to her pants. The woman's primary weapon appeared to be a crossbow. It was slung across her back just over a relatively small pavise. Though Vasto couldn't yet see this, the Mark of Grima decorated the shield.

To her left was another woman, shorter than anyone there. Her entire face save for just her eyes and ears was covered by a bandana and a handkerchief. The rest of her clothing consisted of just a hide jacket, simple work clothes, and boots. A few small knives and a pistol were strapped to her legs, and a knapsack carrying various supplies hung from a single strap going across her chest. The woman's attire was not particularly notable, but her eyes more than attracted attention. Her irises were a bright, unnatural gold, and they projected light outwards like candles. Some of the woman's blood veins were visible against what little skin was exposed, and they too seemed to shimmer and pulsate. It was an eerie sight, and Vasto quickly darted his eyes to the other side.

To the lead woman's immediate right, standing in front of everyone else, was a very tall man. He dwarfed the woman herself, and his own posture and body language also implied a high rank. The man wore a black leather long coat that fell down to his thighs. The man also wore black leather boots and pants, but he wore a covering of chainmail over his chest, just visible underneath the undone coat. All of the coat's buttons were made of gold, and patches sewn into the coat were displayed prominently. The Mark of Grima appeared a few times, but the largest patch featured a symbol Vasto didn't recognize. It was a depiction of a skull, eyes glowing red like those of a Risen, with a knife clenched in its teeth. Attached to the man was a shoulder belt with pouches for ammunition. Though Vasto could see no firearms on the man, he easily could have been hiding some. Finally a few grenades were attached to a belt on the man's waist, and he also had a gold plated canteen. The man wore a kepi, but unlike his companion his hat was more circular, rigid, and clean. The Mark of Grima was also pinned to the front of this hat. The man had fair skin and a hard stern expression, though little of his face could be seen behind a thick, black handlebar mustache and sunglasses made from thin cuts of smoky quartz.

To his right was a woman wearing a very similar leather jacket. It wasn't as dark or elaborately decorated, but the woman wore the same patches and her clothing was otherwise identical. Her jacket was fully buttoned however, and she had no belts covering it. She did have a large knife strapped to her left leg, and a holster for what looked like a tome hung by her right hip. The woman's face was also soft and unassuming, but her expression was more hardened than the very lead woman's. Her light brown hair curled out and to the back from a dark gray field service pilotka. The Mark of Grima was pinned to her cap.

To her right was a very unconventional looking man. The most striking feature of his was a bear pelt worn in such a way that the man's face protruded out of the deceased creature's own head. The clothing he wore underneath looked hand stitched, as if the man had killed and made everything he was wearing. Even the man's canteen was a hollowed out horn. For his wild and untamed look, the man's face was surprisingly groomed. The only thing notable about it was that his stare was unnerving. His piercing green eyes seemed to stare right through Vasto, and he too was difficult to look at. The man didn't seem to have much in the way of weapons save for a long machete on his hip, but Vasto wondered if he was hiding them underneath his pelt.

The nine other Grimleal agents stood behind the six, impling they were of lower rank. They wore largely identical leather jackets, each one featuring that same skull symbol. The exact attire and equipment varied from individual to individual though. Ironically, the lack of standardization reminded Vasto of the Arch Surg's own forces.

Vasto held his chin up high and silently urged the men with him to stand tall. It only took a few seconds for the fifteen Grimleal agents to close within speaking distance, but they had to be some of the hardest in Vasto's career. Vasto had been a soldier his whole life, and he knew the look of an experienced killer. Regular soldiers, men and women that had seen combat, had a determined look about them that was hard to feign. This though? This was something else. Something Vasto had only seen in a handful of his Plegian and Arch Surg comrades. This was the look of a warrior who lived for combat. Of men and women stripped of empathy entirely by the horrors of war. Of depravity and violence that went above and beyond bestial instinct. The kind only a sapient being could muster. This was the look of soldiers broken and obliterated by war, then forged into something inhuman. The look of men and women made incapable of doing anything else with their lives. Civilian life was as alien to them as war was to fresh recruits. This was the look of men and women that lived and breathed death. Fourteen of these Grimleal agents had that look burned into their haunting stares, but the woman in front didn't. She just gave a cocky smirk. Vasto focused on her as the group waked to calm his nerves, though part of him wondered if it was all designed to intentionally draw attention away from everyone else. "Hello there." The lead woman's voice was friendly enough, though there was a seriousness to it. "My name is Inquisitor Thomas."

"So you got our money?"

"You got the manners to say hello first?"

"... hello."

"I have the agreed upon bounty, merc. Do you have the war criminal?"

"War criminal?"

Thomas seemed genuinely annoyed at her own words. "Yeah my boss has me call her that. Now do you have her?"

The man beside Thomas stepped forwards. He held a stern and unmoving expression on his face as he removed his sunglasses, showing off piercing amber colored eyes. "I do hope you know there are penalties for lying to us about something this serious, mercenary."

Vasto gulped. Though he wasn't lying to the Grimleal on this particular subject, the man's stare filled him with a primal fear. Vasto relied on his decades of military experience to suppress it and keep a cool head, though his voice still came out shaky. "I assure you we have her. W-who are you people anyways?"

The man stepped forward until he was only about a third of a meter away. He stood a head over Vasto, and he glared down at him. "Military Assistance Command - Studies and Observations Group. We work under the High Inquisitor."

"I've heard of you. You're some kind of special forces group. I don't know exactly what it is you do though."

"And you never will."

The woman with a leather jacket stepped forward. Though she was only of average height for a woman, she gave Vasto such an intense glare that he tensed up in fear of her. "Take us to the Voice of Naga, mercenary. Now."

"Right. Of course. It's what we all came for after all." Vasto waved the Grimleal agents forward and quickly turned towards Tiki's cell. Thomas and the six agents with her followed, though the others stayed behind. Vasto didn't so much walk as awkwardly shift towards the cell, and he just focused on being glad the Grimleal couldn't see his face as he finally reached it and had his men open up the locked door. Vasto was so nervous as the door slowly swung forward he could barely speak, but the Grimleal agents were too distracted by what they saw inside to pay him any attention. Thomas was in a state of stunned silence as her eyes fell upon the cell's contents. The other SOG members were more professional, but no one was completely unaffected.

Tiki slowly brought her head up and gave a terrified look to the Grimleal agents. Really only her eyes were visible through the heavy chains and bindings, but those eyes said enough about how she felt. Vasto instantly felt a sinking feeling, and he had to turn away from the woman he was giving to the Grimleal. Thomas herself also seemed moved somewhat, but her companions were more surprised or excited.

"Ha!" The man with the cape and kepi shouted. "Молодца, mercenary! You actually caught the slippery wyrm!"

"I don't believe it." Thomas said blankly. "The Voice of Naga."

The man with sunglasses looked down to Vasto, even as the rest of the Grimleal continued to gawk at the woman that had so long eluded them. "So how did you manage to capture her, mercenary? This war criminal has evaded us for thirty years. How could you possibly have succeeded?"

"Uhh…" Vasto had an answer for this question, but he was so nervous around the SOG that he forgot it entirely. "We caught her napping?"

"You caught her… napping." The man responded in an annoyed and stern tone.

"She is known for sleeping a lot, heh heh."

"Give it a rest, Yuri." Thomas said without looking away. "We had the bounty precisely so that mercenaries like this might help us capture her. Who cares how they did it."

Yuri smiled at Thomas. "Of course, my lady." Vasto could barely breathe a sigh of relief before Yuri turned back to him, his intense stare making it obvious that he knew something was off. Once again only a few seconds passed, yet it felt like some of the longest in Vasto's life. The two men just stared at each other, Vasto on the edge of being a nervous wreck, until Inquisitor Thomas patted her companion on the shoulder. "Let's go." Thomas' voice was no longer cheery. She seemed genuinely saddened at the sight of what had happened to Tiki, though it didn't prevent her from doing her job. "I can't look at this anymore. Just pay the mercenary and let's get out of here."

Yuri nodded and turned to the woman with the leather jacket. "Anita. Pay the mercenary."

Anita nodded and waited for Yuri and Thomas to step away before turning to the man with the cape. "Semyonov, pay the man."

"What?! Yuri told you to do it!"

"And I'm telling you."

Anita left, and Semyonov tried turning to the man in the bear pelt. "Cole, pay the-"

"Nice try."

"Hwal'chag, pay the-"

"No." The woman in the beret replied bluntly as she and Cole departed. Semyonov turned to the woman with the strange glowing eyes, but she just patted him on the shoulder and left before he could even ask. The man looked to his comrades in annoyance as they walked away with Thomas, and he glared at Yuri in particular.

"Гроша не стоит, а глядит рублем."

"W-what?!" Vasto asked. He'd never heard anything like the language Semyonov occasionally spoke, but he had heard of the Grimleal bringing people from far away lands.

"Oh, just the language of my motherland. Nothing like the barbaric tongue you people bark out here. Now let's get to business. You want to get paid right? What'd they offer you? Thirty thousand?"

"T-thirty million, actually."

"Ha, come on! I'm fucking with you, merc! Follow me now. Let's make you a rich man among dirt farmers." Vasto followed Semyonov away from the cell and felt his guilt melt away as Tiki's tortured gaze finally left him. Vasto knew he was not absolved from what he was doing, and he had to think the same justification over and over to calm himself. It was for the good of the Arch Surg. Vasto walked for a ways before he looked back to see Semyonov glaring at him. Without realizing it he'd fallen behind. "By all means, Plegian! Move like a slave to the branding iron!"

"Sorry."

"You'd think one would be excited to collect thirty million."

"R-right." Vasto's eyes widened as he actually contemplated Semyonov's words. "How did you know I'm Plegian?"

"I'm SOG. It's my job to know things. I know it by how you talk. How you hold yourself. Even by how you walk."

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh I'm sorry. Apologies for offending your preconceived notions!" Semyonov shot back. "Which one of us here is the highly trained black ops, and which one is the shit for brains fop who got lucky?"

"Well… you certainly have an interesting idea of professionalism."

Semyonov chuckled. "Oh we're nothing like regular soldiers."

"Really? Who exactly are you?"

Semyonov seemed far more eager to tell his story than Yuri. "Nice try. I won't tell you anything about our organization that Yuri didn't tell you, and I already know what he told you. Nothing."

"He told me the name of your organization."

"Alright. I guess he did tell you something. Got me in a pedantic technicality there. Nice. I won't tell you anything about us. Loose lips sink giant floating dragons after all." Semyonov turned back and gave a friendly, though slightly unnerving smile. "I'll tell you about me though. I've got a few names. To some in the politburo I'm just SOG Unit 455-45. To my people I'm the White Death. To some people here I'm the Captain of коготь Company. My personal favorite is a title other more easily frightened members of the politburo gave me. The Reaper of Themis."

"What'd you do to get that name?!"

"The people of Themis could tell you if any of them were still around. Now let me tell you a bit about myself. I was born in the far away land of Novoskr. Beautiful country. Nice cold weather. Good food. Good music. And the women… oh! They could drain a horse dry!"

"Umm… okay."

"Anyways, when I was just a wee little thing, my mother said I'd do great things. She said that in between beatings. Eventually I grew up, realized I could overpower her, and put a knife through her eye. Then I tracked down my deadbeat dad and got him too. Then I became a mercenary, earning forty seven confirmed kills and twenty seven unconfirmed before I was arrested and taken to a maximum security prison in the capital. Nice place. Gated communities where peasants couldn't enter. That's how you can tell it was a really nice place. Anyways I stay there until the King himself pays me a visit. He tells me my skills shouldn't be wasted, and he tells me the monarchy has enemies it needs neutralized. He basically hires me as a criminal for the authority, and in the King's name I had one hundred and forty seven confirmed kills, fifty six unconfirmed, and three of the four princesses. The other one was only eleven." The SOG was almost giddy as he recounted his exploits, but he became momentarily saddened. "Then the Grimleal came to our continent. See the Grimleal took over a lot of countries by working with local rebellions. Novoskr had a group of rebels trying to overthrow the King. They wanted to make a worker's paradise or some horseshit like that. The Grimleal helped them overthrow the monarchy, then had them rule as a puppet government. They publicly executed the entire royal family. Even the children." Semyonov took a few seconds to collect himself before continuing. He notably took a jeweled pendant from underneath his shirt and gently kissed it before putting it back where it was. "I didn't have anything left, so I went around killing revolutionary and Grimleal forces. I got at least a hundred of them… but I honestly stopped counting. Eventually they finally got me, and they were mad. Heh, they wanted to cut off my balls, gut me, and have my corpse strung up by my entrails. Inquisitor Thomas came to see me before they could though. Once again my skills were too good to be put to waste, and now I work here."

"You work for the government that took over your homeland?"

"In case you haven't noticed, merc, I don't work with the regular army or any idiot Lord Lieutenant. I work for a high power. A greater future for the human race. Besides I'm here because I refuse to return to Novoskr. Not so long as those idiots are in power there. Thomas says she'll ask High Inquisitor Aversa really nicely if I can personally kill them the same way they once killed the princesses… but I'm not counting on that. Any other questions?"

"Uhh… did you get to keep your balls?"

"Держи свои яйца, говорит он! Ha! I like this Plegian!" Semyonov continued walking, chuckling to himself all the way, until he finally reached a carriage several SOG members had just recently brought up. Two SOG agents walked over to Semyonov, and he began shouting at them. "You two! Get the carriage ready to move!"

"Yes." One of the men said in an annoyed tone. "We did that already."

"Well. Aren't you two fucking geniuses. Do you want a medal? Smartest dipshits in the Grimleal?"

"Well… you SOG certainly have an interesting idea of professionalism."

"Merc, if I want your half-baked, whisky drunk opinion I'll ask for it. Now do you want your money or not?" One of the SOG agents opened up the back of the carriage, and Vasto's jaw dropped as if it had suddenly been unhinged. Thirty million gold weighed down the back of the carriage. It was all packed into several heavy chests, the ones in the back opened to show the gold itself inside. Vasto had never seen so much wealth in his life. Even a single chest was more than his mother had ever made while raising him. Semyonov noticed Vasto's reaction and laughed even more. "Don't spend it all in one place. You'll break the local economy." Semyonov almost turned to leave, but then stopped. "One last thing, merc. Come here." Vasto froze, and Semyonov just waved him closer. "Come here." He said softly but firmly. "Come here." Vasto finally walked closer to him, and Semyonov placed his hand on Vasto's shoulder in a way that was anything but reassuring. "I know you just did this for the money, but the Grimleal needed her captured for a reason. You've done us a great service. You're a hero to humanity. Never let anyone tell you any different."

"R-right." Vasto signaled to the other wyvern riders, and everyone met by the carriage. Within minutes the group was ready to depart, but Vasto was silent the entire time. An Arch Surg soldier beside him took up the reigns and prepared to leave, and he turned at Vasto's silence to see him staring at his feet.

"I can't believe it! We did it! We actually got away with that! Come on, boss! What's the problem?"

"Leave me alone." Vasto almost whispered.

"What's wrong? You think they're onto us?"

"No. Nothing like that." Vasto looked over to Tiki's mobile cell to see the SOG agents and the Inquisitor buzzing around it. He was just glad the gaze of the tortured woman inside couldn't fall on him. "It's just… are we doing the right thing?"

"The Arch Surg needs this money, boss. Plus we'll look good in front of Archangel. You might even get a promotion. You'll be just as respected as Pheros, Farber, Stanforth, or any of those other officers."

"Right. It's just… it's not every day you sell a god into slavery. What… what have I done?"

Meanwhile Yuri and Anita stared down Tiki as she solemnly hung her head. The two spoke to each other without ever looking away. Her every move was of great interest to them. When she did bring her tear filled eyes up to meet theirs, they gave her back entirely apathetic looks. "Yuri?" Anita asked softly. "Do you know what you just presided over?"

"I had thirty million gold given to an Arch Surg soldier pretending to be a mercenary. He'll use the money to fund their war effort. Yes I know what I've done."

"If you knew, then why did you let it happen?"

"Wars are not won by focusing on small battles, Anita. Wars are won by grand operations. By not losing sight of the big picture. Thirty million gold to a rebel movement is a small price to pay. Besides, we can use this opportunity to sabotage them. We'll have third party merchants offer them tempting weapons and supply deals. They'll spend the money, returning it to us, and in turn will be given sabotaged weapons and poisoned supplies."

"What if that doesn't work?"

"It really doesn't matter. What truly matters is her. Grima will be very interested in her." Tiki's eyes widened and she couldn't help but let out a muffled scream. The sound was barely audible over her gag, but the Grimleal agent heard it. Yuri removed his sunglasses and gave a piercing stare. "Oh no, my dear sweet Voice of Naga." He said in a disturbingly soft tone. "Save your breath. You're going to need it where you're going."

Inquisitor Thomas and the SOG agents didn't know exactly how the "mercenaries" would transport Tiki, and they found themselves unable to move the massive cell they had been burdened with. Instead they decided to simply hold the position until Grimleal personnel teleported in via the Faraskjótr to relieve them. Thomas herself was standing some distance away from the cell. Originally it was to have a private conversation with High Inquisitor Aversa, though she needed Anita's help to use the farakveða tome, but she stayed over there long after Aversa had confirmed her orders because she couldn't bear to look at Tiki. It was agonizing to see a woman that had done so much for humanity in the past treated this way, but Thomas had her orders. Grima's will had to be enacted, and Thomas couldn't fathom betraying them. The Grimleal had saved her from her father once. How could she repay them with treachery? Thomas just kept her thoughts to herself until the Faraskjótr finally brought in Grimleal forces, but it wasn't anyone Thomas was expecting. Instead of sending Inquisitors, Al-Amin had deposited Anointed Ones.

Meanwhile Anita and Semyonov causally had a conversation, while in the background Tiki was either feigning unconsciousness or had genuinely passed out. Anita still glanced over to her occasionally, and she only half paid attention to Semyonov. "So who do you think did more? Marth's group, or the Shepherds?"

"Oh for Grima's sake, I told you I don't follow the myths of this stupid continent."

"They're not myths. These were real people. Some of the Shepherds are even still around."

"Who cares. All I know about the history of this continent is that Grima was defeated a thousand years ago, but was resurrected here. I also know that this continent, especially Ylisse, has a ridiculous hard on for the Hero King."

"What do you mean?"

"They have a cult of personality built around him! They're always going on and on about the Hero King! 'Oh Marth was such a great person! He did this! He did that! Oh if only he were still alive so that I could ride his cock into next week!' They never shut up about him." Semyonov laughed. "I've also heard about Lucina. S-she used to go around calling herself Marth! I mean holy gods-damned shit! She's the future heir to the Ylissean throne, and she runs around dressed like a man calling herself Marth! No one questions it! 'Oh yeah, everything's normal. Princess is a crazy cross dressing weirdo? Oh yeah, no biggie. Hardly the weirdest thing the royal family had ever done.' What do you think was up with her? Inbred? Closeted homosexual? Traumatized child soldier calling out for mommy and daddy? A little of all three?"

Anita just shook her head. "Don't let Thomas hear you talking like that. She wouldn't wear women's clothing to save her life."

"Ah it's different when she does it."

"How so."

"She pays me. She also saved my family jewels. I'd call Lucina anything she wanted if she did that for me, but she didn't. She just went around killing people and pissing off the Fell Dragon, and now we all pay for it. Blue haired fuck."

"Are you sure you're not just jealous. This continent has important people, while yours is insignificant."

"That's not true. There are people-"

"Don't tell me another story about Novoskr."

"Oh sure. Everyone wants to hear about Ylisse, but no one wants to hear about Novoskr. Yeah, okay. Sure. That's real fair. No, no that's real fucking fair."

The two turned to see Thomas approaching, and Cole, Yuri, Hwal'chag, and the woman with the glowing eyes all stood to greet her. Thomas pointed to the robed men and women behind her, and everyone tensed up. "Anointed Ones?" Anita asked.

"We weren't informed of this." Semyonov complained. Thomas gave him an annoyed glance.

"You think I was?! They shouldn't be here for anything major. Even if the Hierophant is with them, the Fell Dragon should be pleased with us. We're not in trouble."

"Все на солнце ровно глядим - неровно пьём и едим."

"I told you not to speak that gobbledygook in front of me! I need to understand what you're saying!"

"Stupid idiot." Semyonov spat.

"Much better." Thomas replied sarcastically.

Thomas and the SOG finally turned as the Anointed Ones approached. To everyone's dismay, the casket containing the Hierophant's body was there. The Anointed Ones stopped and gently set the casket on the ground, and a woman stepped forward. Her robes were more ornate than the others, with reflective golden stripes and ornate designs. The robes were primarily gold and white in color, though the woman's affiliation was clear as the Mark of Grima was on the front of the robe. The middle aged woman had a peaceful expression on her face. She had long curly brown hair and wrinkles that only seemed to add to the woman's friendly appearance. The serenity and grace of her look was completely dissonant to her occupation. To the evil that she tended to. "Inquisitor Thomas. So nice to see you again, dearie."

"Mother Margaret." The two woman hugged and quickly kissed the air by each other's cheeks. "May the light shine forever by your spirit. May it take you to our promised land."

"And may the light be with you. I hope you're not doing anything too dangerous."

"Oh I try to stay out of that kind of thing. I have my strapping SOG boys and girls to help me. They get the job done and I don't ask questions about their very questionable methods."

"We're standing right here." Semyonov said. Thomas rolled her eyes.

"Sorry I can't understand you. It's that thick Wielklavian accent you have."

"Wielklavia is the bumfuck country your pal Dartsmoth is from. I'm from-"

"Yeah no, no sorry. I don't speak mail order bride. Anyways continue, Margaret?"

Before Margaret could continue, a banging noise emanated from the casket. Everyone turned in a panic, fearful that the Fell Dragon had caught them unprepared. The casket was forced open and the Hierophant's body did burst out of it, but it was clear that the Fell Dragon wasn't controlling him at all. "Gah! I can't see! I can't see anything!"

Thomas and the SOG agents jumped back in shock. Anita and Semyonov even instinctively drew their tome and pistol respectively. Margaret rushed forward and put her hand on the man's chest, keeping him from sitting up any further. "Shh. Shh."

"Where am I?!"

"It's okay." She whispered. "It's okay."

The man's voice was completely human. He seemed to be Robin, the man that became the Hierophant. Thomas was shocked into complete silence. She'd always been told that Robin was gone. That it was impossible for him to wake up. Margaret continued to press down on his chest, gently but surely trying to make him lay back down. "Where's Chrom?! Where's Morgan?! Where am I?!"

"Shh. Calm down." Margaret put her hand on his cheek. "Everything's alright. Hush my child, lay down your sword. Worry not of the Risen horde. The Fell Dragon is as a mother bird. The light will shine down through its word."

The Hierophant slowly calmed down, and eventually laid back into the casket. He went back to being motionless, as if he had never moved. "What the hell was that?!" Thomas exclaimed. "I thought his will was stripped away!"

"Oh it is. That happens once in a blue moon right before the Fell Dragon possesses him."

"So Grima is coming? I thought they'd send someone like Aversa, or Altman, or a Lord Lieutenant."

"No. Grima wants to deal with her personally."

Thomas became nervous and looked down to the Hierophant's body. His eyes had been gouged out, apparently by Validar himself after he was captured and brought before the Grimleal. Other than that he was a normal middle aged man. Thomas couldn't help but think that he looked very peaceful, even handsome. The only other strange thing about him was the complete lack of clothing. "So this is the man that caused the old Grimleal so much harm. This is the man old Chrom boy cared so much about. Why… why is he naked?"

"You think I enjoy staring at his junk all day? We tried clothing him, but his clothes burn off whenever the Fell Dragon possesses the body. Replaced by that strange armor it creates from dark magic."

"I can't say I envy your job, Margaret."

Margaret looked back to the SOG. "I can't say I envy yours, but we all serve in one way or another."

Everyone turned back to the casket as a brilliant purple light began to flood out of it, and this time there was no mistake about what was happening. Everyone present immediately fell to one knee and stared at the ground until the possession was complete. As the highest ranking agent there, Thomas was the first and only one to look up when the light finally faded. The Hierophant was standing over her, but six blood red eyes covered his face. The Fell Dragon was undeniably in front of her. "L-lord Grima."

"Enough with this display of human acquiescence. On your feet. All of you." Thomas and the others present rose, but Grima ignored them. It simply walked straight over to Tiki's cell, and a smile of all things crept across the Hierophant's face as Grima put its gaze down on Tiki. Tiki herself began to panic and struggle in her bonds. Thomas could only wonder what she was feeling, but she noticed that Tiki didn't make any noise. Maybe she was too frightened. Maybe she was too furious. Maybe she was too horrified at the sight of what had become of her ally. Grima went so far as to give off a laugh. It was as horrifying as it was brief. Thomas wondered if it only laughed because it had possessed the Hierophant, but the noise itself was inhuman. "At long last. Come, child of my timeless foe. On your feet." The Hierophant waved his hand, and Tiki's heavy metal bindings came off. The ones that didn't loosen easily were literally torn apart. Everyone took a step back at this display of power, and Tiki slowly walked forward. She couldn't help but take advantage of her newly regained freedom of movement, but she tried to stay away from Grima. Her gag remained, but she didn't attempt to make a sound. Margaret seemed more concerned than anyone, and she stepped forward.

"Lord Grima, are you sure that's safe? Should you keep her restrained? This represents a security risk."

Grima walked over to Margaret, slowly stepping closer until it was well within her personal space. "Do you think me incapable of defending myself? Do you think I am restrained by this pathetic form?"

Margaret was nigh speechless. She knew what could easily happen to her. "Of course not, Lord Grima." She stuttered.

Grima put the Hierophant's hand on her chest, and purple energy slowly flowed into her body. "Then be quiet." An instant later, Margaret was sent flying about five meters backward. No one said anything else after that, and Grima simply turned back to Tiki and a mortified Thomas. Without saying anything Grima shoved Thomas back until she was standing next to Tiki, and then the Fell Dragon put the Hierophant's arms around both. The two women stood in mutual terror as a purple light enveloped them and spacetime itself began to distort. A blinding light enveloped the area, and then they were gone.

Semyonov ran over to Margaret and extended his arm. "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah." Margaret took his arm and rose to her feet. "Yeah, I'm fine. I wouldn't be doing this job if I couldn't take a few hits from the Fell Dragon."

"I didn't know it could just teleport like that. Why even have the Anointed Ones carry around the Hierophant's body?"

"The Hierophant's body can only handle so much of the Fell Dragon's power. Besides, I don't want to make Grima think that we're useless. Job security and all that."

Grima brought the Hierophant's body into a large underground chamber, Thomas and Tiki coming with it as the Fell Dragon's power bent the fabric of reality. Grima callously flung both women forward, though it bothered to use telekinesis to keep Thomas from losing her footing. Tiki was thrown to the cold, damp stone floor. The first thing she noticed as she brought her head back up was how unnatural the light in the area was. The cavern she found herself extended at least eighty meters into the Earth's surface, and Tiki noticed she was actually on a bridge of some kind. Below her was a dark chasm that went even further into the planet. The area was lit only by strange floating balls of magical energy that bathed everyone present in a bluish light. Sunlight just peeked through cracks in the cavern ceiling, but it was only enough light to remind you that the outside world did still exist in this strange environment. It looked like the cavern had once had a natural opening, but the Grimleal had covered it. In front of Tiki was a massive metal contraption that the bridge lead directly to. The machine rose all the way to the ceiling and extended into the darkness below, and it seemed to be solid metal. Tiki honestly never thought humans were advanced enough to build anything like it, and she couldn't begin to comprehend its design or purpose. She only recognized a small capsule at the end of the bridge large enough for a human to fit inside of.

Standing in front of the machine was a frail middle aged man, his sickly pale skin hidden behind heavy cloth. Strangely it was the kind of clothing normally worn under plate armor, though this man looked like no soldier. He was startled by the Fell Dragon's appearance, but he seemed assured at the sight of Tiki. The man did not smile or show any other signs of happiness, but the man's expression indicated that the very sight of her was as if years of work and toil had paid off. The man couldn't take his eyes off of Tiki until the Fell Dragon had gotten well within his personal space. Tiki tried to look away, but no one constituted a more pleasant sight. Though dragged along with her, Thomas only gave Tiki a stern look and tried to seem tough. She made it clear where her allegiance stood. Behind Tiki were armored men with arquebuses, and they pulled back the hammers on their firearms when she noticed them. Without her dragonstone, Tiki couldn't easily transform into her true form. Even if she could, she didn't know if bullets could really hurt her or not, and she was always afraid to find out. She tried her best to steel herself and hold her body with some dignity. "Mother." She whispered. "Please help me."

Grima stepped closer to the middle aged pale skinned man until he knelt down. "Lord Grima. I can't say your arrival at this particular moment is expected, but I assure you the machine is ready."

"This had better work, human."

"The machine is… not entirely finished." The Hierophant's face twisted with anger, and the man quickly straightened himself. "But it should be able to contain Tiki's power. The Pommel shall be activated, and in time we will have our blade."

"Be ready to activate it. I wish to speak with Tiki alone."

The man's stoic face showed some signs of confusion. "Lord Grima… where am I supposed to-"

Without saying anything more Grima put the Hierophant's hand on the man's shoulder and made his body disappear in a flash of energy. A second later, Thomas and the two guards also vanished. Somehow the Grimleal agents had made Tiki feel more secure. Hostile as they were, they were still humans. She was used to being with humans. Now she stood alone with an ancient evil that even she did not understand, and no human stood by her side this time. A surge of fear, a thousand times worse than what she had felt when she learned about what would happen to her, overwhelmed her. This time she could not control it. "Mother please!" She stuttered against her gag in a louder voice than she intended. Grima turned back to her and slowly approached, and Tiki felt her panic rise with every step. To her surprise, the gag left in her mouth was telekinetically ripped off a moment later. Again the Fell Dragon brought the Hierophant's face into a twisted smile, nothing like the friendly look Robin had once had. "Child of my enemy, I offer you no forgiveness. The sins of the mother are passed on to the daughter."

Tiki focused on her rage and frustration. Anything to calm her fear. This was no demon. This was just an enemy. She could stand up for herself, just as she had once done before Medeus. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"I need not your fear."

"What do you want?" Tiki almost wanted to go silent as she looked into the six blood red eyes, but she forced herself to power through it. She forced herself to yell. "What do you want with me?! Thirty years ago you sent Risen to kill me, but now you want me alive. Why?!"

"You and I are not so different, Tiki."

"W-what?"

"You think me an abomination, but you could be like me. Like your mother. If only you knew the power that you have inside you."

"You're nothing like my mother!"

"You've been with the humans too long. You've been in that disgusting form too long. You've forgotten what you truly are. Naga is nothing like the humans." Grima paced back and forth. "Did you know that your mother used to be male?"

"H-huh?!"

"Or at least the humans used to perceive her as male. Naga was the Divine Dragon King. This Naga was never known to have a human form. This Naga died, long before you were old enough to remember."

"My mother is not dead!"

"No. Two thousand years later she is reincarnated as a woman named Nagi, and helps the Hero King against Medeus. Then the years go by, and Naga is reborn as a woman devoid of physical form. The humans in their short sightedness have forgotten. Now they say Naga was always female. Now they say Naga never died."

"What are you saying?!"

"When so many of your kind succumbed to degeneration or were killed by the humans, your mother has survived. She is no longer limited to a biological form. She has achieved a higher plane of existence. Am I so different? I did not die when the First Exalt struck me down. I cannot truly die. I too have achieved a higher state of being. You, Tiki, are the alien among us. You have this power too, but you think of yourself as a human. You limit yourself to the weaknesses of that form."

"You're nothing like Naga, and you have no right to speak of my mother!"

Grima gave Tiki no pause. It simply continued everytime she finished speaking. "Do you know where I'm from?"

"No. No one does."

"Thabes. Thousands of years ago there was an ancient city state more advanced than any human civilization that has ever existed since. It was built on the corpse of Naga, Tiki. That's how the humans there became so advanced. They took power from his remains! Do you think the humans became so advanced on their own?! They can't even figure out how to live past biological death! They can't go more than a few hours without thinking with their stomachs!"

Tiki had heard of Thabes, and the legends of things lurking in the ruins. "The human civilization?!"

"There was once a man named Forneus. The Mad Alchemist of Thabes. He sought to create the perfect lifeform. To that end he mixed his blood with that of a Divine Dragon. Where do you think he got that divine blood?" Tiki's eyes widened as she realized what the Fell Dragon was saying. "I come from Naga's blood too. The humans would call us siblings."

"No. N-no. No, no, no! You're nothing like me! You're not a dragon! You're an abomination!"

"We are both offspring of the same progenitor. Join your voice with mine, and we shall sing a chorus of victory everlasting!"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

"You're not a fool! Not like the humans. Think. Why am I telling you these things?"

"Because you're an aberration!"

"Because I want you to understand what you are. All the power that I have, that your mother has, you could have it too. Do not think you are limited to the constraints of that human form."

Tiki looked down to her body. Grima was right. She had grown so used to it, and she didn't even view her true form as her real self. Though deep down she did feel weakened and restricted in her human form, it also felt right to her. As a human she had made friends and allies. As a dragon she had only brought fear, and long had she been told of how dangerous it would be if she lost control of her power. "Why do you hate the humans so much, Grima? What could they possibly have done to you?"

"I do not hate them."

"You're trying to destroy them!"

"I spared them."

"You call this regime mercy?!"

"Yes." It replied bluntly.

"You tried to destroy humanity in Lucina's timeline."

"That was a different Grima."

"Y-you expect me to believe there are two Grimas?!"

"There were, but the other Grima and I… reached an agreement. "

"Don't dodge my question. Why do you hate humanity?!"

"I do not hate them. Does the storm hate the landscape? Does the sun hate the night? It is simple change. Evolution. Superior lifeforms thrive, and inferior lifeforms go extinct. I am the superior lifeform. Once the humans took the world from the dragons. Now I will take the world from them."

"How does this justify what you've done to them."

"Your sympathy for them is misplaced. The humans fear what they do not understand. Medeus was the only Earth Dragon to side with Naga, and he agreed to allow the human race to dominate the world. For centuries he watched as the humans tortured and persecuted the few manaketes that remained, and they dare to call him a demon because he tried to put a stop to it. Loptyr wanted to preserve the heritage of the Earth Dragons, and they call him a monster for it. Naga chose to guide the humans, but they turned on the surviving Divine Dragons as soon as Naga was gone! Now they dare to worship her as a benevolent god. They dare to call themselves her chosen people! The only reason why they don't hate and fear you like they do the others is because you sleep for so long, and because you spend so much time in a human form. Just look at how quickly they turned on you. For everything you've done for them, all it took was the promise of material wealth for them to fall over themselves hunting for you!" Tiki didn't have an answer for that, and Grima continued. "They're primitive, disgusting beasts! They scratch the surface of intelligence, but they're animals! They talk of higher concepts but primarily care about little more than food, sleep, and shelter. They sing of love but fantasize of rape. They call themselves civilized but commit atrocities against each other. They have proliferated in both numbers and destructive capacity, but they are still just barbaric, savage creatures. How long before they ruin the planet itself? How long before they build weapons that irradiate the atmosphere and boil away the oceans? How long before they venture into the stars and spread their wars to the cosmos? They're a blight! Naga's mistake was allowing them to run around without limitations. I will not make that same mistake."

Tiki gave Grima a defiant look. "You have no right to do this. They're a part of nature."

"What is man in nature? A nothing in relation to infinity, all in relation to nothing, a central point between nothing and all and infinitely far from understanding either. The ends of things and their beginnings are impregnably concealed from him in an impenetrable secret. He is equally incapable of seeing the nothingness out of which he was drawn and the infinite in which he is engulfed."

"W-what?!"

"I see I've reached your capacity to follow this conversation. Your intellect is capable of grasping how I see the world, but you've been with the humans too long. I tell you these things because I feel that one day you will understand as I do. As your mother does."

"Do you really think I'd ever help you?!"

"Not right now. For the foreseeable future, your destiny lies within that machine. One day I will let you out, and perhaps we can have a meaningful discussion then."

Without warning, Grima telekinetically seized Tiki and lifted her into the air. It then telekinetically ripped off the door to the capsule in front of the machine and sent it rocketing away before seizing it in midair. Grima then moved Tiki closer to the machine, and again she couldn't contain her resurgent fear. She struggled as much as she could, but there was nothing she could do. "Mother! Please!" She managed to say before Grima forced her into the capsule. The Fell Dragon then hurtled the door back and used magical energy to weld it permanently into place. Grima then waved the Hierophant's arm, and Thomas, the middle aged man, and the two guards materialized from thin air. Thomas patted herself down with a startled expression on her face.

"What just happened to me?!"

The man was also shocked, but he was more composed when the Fell Dragon turned to him. "Activate the machine."

"At once, Lord Grima. At last The Pommel will be complete." The man drew a tome and fired blasts of dark magic at several points on the machine. Slowly lines of dark magic began to pulsate on the machine, and a noise that grew more and more severe by the second erupted from the metal until a blinding flash of blue light appeared from the capsule. Tiki could be heard screaming in agony for a moment before the noises of the machine drowned her out. Thomas was physically shaken at the sight, but the man smiled. "We've… done it. The power of a Divine Dragon. Ours to use."

"You've done well, human. Continue your work." With that, Grima once again teleported away. This time Thomas was left behind.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah sure. Yeah that's fine. Just leave me here. Yeah sure, okay! It's not like I needed to go back or anything! No I'll just teleport back… oh wait! I can't! Stupid dragon!" Thomas sighed and turned back to the man, who was looking intently at his machine. Thomas stepped closer to him, and to her dismay the sounds of Tiki's screams were barely audible over the machine. She couldn't imagine what was happening to her in the sealed capsule. "Bernitz-Heimeroth?"

Bernitz-Heimeroth was a Ylissean nobleman of House Heimeroth-Holztenstein. He was recognized as a prodigy as a child. He would go on to attend university in both Ylisse and Plegia, graduating with degrees in several fields of engineering. For years he was the head engineer of Weapons Development. Every design for a Grimleal weapon, from ships to arquebuses, passed by his eyes at some point. Recently however he was transferred to the head of Special Projects. No one knew exactly what he did. Only that he was constantly working on some kind of machine and that he reported directly to Grima. Thomas no longer had to wonder about the machine. Thomas turned her eyes away from her as the horrible thoughts of what might be happening to Tiki became too much for her, but Bernitz-Heimeroth himself wasn't a much more calming sight. The man's skin was a sickly pale from a complete lack of sunlight. The man never stepped foot outside, and used the Faraskjótr to move from installation to installation. There was very good reason for this, but Thomas didn't think it was a good way to live. "Yes?" The man replied in an emotionless tone. Thomas couldn't help but think that he and Al-Amin would get along just fine.

"I need your help contacting Al-Amin so I can Faraskjótr out of here once it's done charging."

"Of course."

Thomas turned to the machine. "What is it doing to her?"

"Extracting her divine power."

"Is it… hurting her?"

"Yes." Bernitz-Heimeroth looked down to Thomas. "Do not be fooled by her form. She can take far more than us, and your empathy for her is misplaced."

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing here, Bernie-Heimie? Tiki has done a lot for us. How can we treat her like this?"

"We need her energy for Project: Xenologue and Project: Excalibur. These operations will bring a new age for humanity. The human spirit will be as a wind that will blow through the gates to the promised future, and it is by the countenance and edification of the Fell Dragon that we achieve this. We need only the ship to carry us to that fabled island."

"Did all those university degrees make you like this, or were you always off your ass crazy?"

"We need not bicker, Inquisitor Thomas. We both serve the light."