The thundering of the pods resounded through the gallant halls, round the golden archways and into the ears of the awaiting Tenno. The air round the gates shifted and dust was thrown up onto their helmet visors as the thundering continued, but this was not the landing pods anymore. This was the sound of marching, the sound of a thousand half-men pounding their steel boots into the ground to die their inevitable deaths in battle. What mattered was if any survived see victory. The numbers could always be replaced.
Umbra and one of her fellow Sisters were pressing their hands to the shimmering air in front of them, creating a barrier that denied any viewers knowledge of what was waiting on the other side. It fell like a waterfall on their side but to any onlookers it looked and sounded exactly the same.
"Well, here they come. Not exactly a bunch of lookers, are they?" The Ember stretched, arching her back in a feline way with one hand loosely gripping her Strun. The charred body of a marine lay shredded under its maw
"This wasn't how I planned to die." The Volt was badly wounded, with one arm broken and limp by his side. A Sicarius trembled its silver head in his hand as he tried to keep it from shaking. Electricity drizzled along the sides of his frame like a leaking spigot.
"Oh, and what would be better than this, Alessandro? In your sleep?"
"I prefe-"
"You know what? I don't need to know, because you aren't dying here. I'll get you some of that Corpus-imported stuff from Venus later to help with the arm, if you want."
"I... That would be nice."
"Come on." She beckoned with her hand and lightly slapped him on the back. He managed a small smile.
Orion stared at the entrance down the hall with narrowed eyes. Shadows marched with the sound of incoming marines on the walls, but they were bigger tenfold, and seemed to multiply the sound. In the heart of a normal being, terror may have gripped him. Normality disgusted him.
"They should hurry up. I don't like to be kept waiting."
"Let them make their move, I say." The Frost spoke from behind him, for once paying his full attention to Orion. "We can show our hand once they show theirs; this is a game that Hek plays. He delays the main advance to peel through the cowards. He wants us to be demoralised. He wants us to be reckless."
"He can try to do whatever he wants, but I'd rather not keep my executioner waiting." Ash injected as much cynicism into that sentence as possible; he didn't want the Frost to hear his last words to be honeyed and warm. It was the alcohol.
"Perhaps they are not so eager. Learn patience, brother." Was that a wink that momentarily graced his grey eyes?
The marines came into view at last. Ash drew Dust its scabbard just as the sword's runes started to glow.
Here comes the marching band.
It's about time.
You seem almost eager to meet your end.
You don't listen much, do you, Dust?
More than you think. The Stalker's ship was not one of great interest, so I found listening a good way to pass the time.
Sometimes I pity you.
Have you grown fond of my presence, Orion?
Somewhat. Don't take it too seriously, I'm still not myself.
You'd be surprised.
And what do you mean by that?
Ignore me.
They marched in columns, guns robotically tucked into their huge shoulder pauldrons. Umbra was trembling slightly, still visibly shaken by the dreadful murder of the Lieutenant, but she held herself together. Her Sister paid her no heed, instead staring straight at the ever-closer approaching Grineer.
The hall rang with the sound of feet hitting the ground as a single crunch. The Tenno's conversation died into the silence as the two sides stared each other in the face, locked in a contest of nerve unknown to the Grineer.
The Nyxs backed slowly into the walls, hands still raised outward. A particularly grizzled Grineer sergeant with almost human-like grey stubble peppered on his jaw stepped into the alien light of the Dojo and sniffed the air. His grey tongue traced round his greyer lips, moistening them like a fox padding behind a mouse.
"Garsch noves tresk!" He barked to one of the grunts at the back, who timidly jogged over, taking small steps.
The marine was shoved forward before the barrier. The Frost mimicked his movements, coming to a stop right before the shield and drawing a Bolto pistol from its worn holster.
The marine looked round; taking a few nervous steps spurred on only by the sergeant's distancing yells. It rolled its shoulder and readjusted the Grakata in its arms, taking another couple of steps. It was right before the barrier. It must have sensed something, for it took one hand and reached into the barrier, then a foot. The Tenno held their breaths as it stepped through fully and gazed into the sight of the barrel.
"Tenno, sku-"
The pistol bucked three times. Three bolts about a hand-width in size flew from its barrel.
On the first shot, the marine's skull shattered as the bolt tore a new hole in the back of its head. The psychic shield went down, and the Tenno weapons came up. The first beats of adrenaline pulsed through the marines' hearts.
On the second, feet started moving. Grineer legs, trained by instinct, began to run and adopt firing positions. The sergeant's vocal chords only just started to strum his ferocious orders.
On the third, triggers were pulled, swords drawn, grenades grabbed from pouches and flung with pins raining down like metallic snowflakes. The air only now started to whistle through the grooves of ancient swords.
Battle erupted. All around the hall, Tenno leapt into battle, slashing apart squadrons in moments. Bullets streaked through the hall, whistling past Orion's ears and pattering against the stone columns that he ran across. He bent his legs into the wall and sprung at a Gunner, Dust poised in front of him. Smoke trailed his movements as it poured forth from the shining runes along its blade. Orion shoved the sword through its armour with a grunt and gracefully leaped over its head. As expected, a shielded Lancer timidly crept behind it, firing short bursts with its Viper. Orion slammed both legs into its face, crushing its helmet and puncturing the shield with the blade imbedded in the Gunner. The pair, stuck together by Dust, wriggled to try and escape, but the blade wouldn't budge. Orion jumped onto the Lancer's neck and snapped it with one foot, the other driving the towering Gunner's face into the ground and leaving a large crack in the floor. He wrenched the sword free, whipping blood against the walls. His eyes found naturally found his next target. He continued.
While Orion fought in the fray of it all, the Ember relied on the brutish power of her Strun to raze her enemies to shreds. Her rounds were modified with a sticky phosphoric solution mixed with the pellets as well as an improved bullet chambering mechanism, resulting in a hellish storm of fire that blew apart anything that entered her range. This, coupled with her frequent fireballs that she threw from her fists that shattered like molten boulders on their targets, gave her the destructive, flame-licked presence of an erupting volcano.
Lightning shot through her side. She barely had time to react before she realised she was being dragged into a group of marines by a Scorpion's harpoon, like a fish with a hook through its cheek being reeled in. She tumbled across the floor and landed flat on her face. The world spun for a moment as she regained control of her limbs. The Ember pressed her hands into the ground in an effort to get up, but was immediately stopped by a savage blow to her shoulder. Her Strun fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
She could feel the blood welling and trickling down her back. She needed to get help. The marines around her chuckled as the Scorpion pressed a gun barrel to her neck and forced her head into the floor. She clenched her teeth and waited for the gunshot.
BANG!
She... She could still feel her breathing. Now, when the Ember's heart beat out of her chest and sent shockwave after shockwave through her body, she felt still. Then it dawned on her, breaking like the smile she wore when she felt metal rapidly cooling on her skin.
"Ker dam?!" The shrill voice of the Scorpion sounded off in confusion behind her. "Nekar se!"
A shot entered her abdomen, another in her leg. Her shields barely deflected one that was aimed for her head. The gunpowder-filled breath she took was punched right back out again, and she looked round from the floor to her surroundings. No Tenno were nearby. That was good. Only Grineer, more and more closing in. The battle seemed far away now, on a distant plane. Her chocolate hair was draped across her blood-filled right eye like a closing curtain.
Flames enveloped her, slithering from her ears, her nose, her eyes, her mouth, from every pore in her body. They purified her skin, searing away her eyebrows and setting her hair alight. The bullets in her wounds melted away and dissolved into her burning blood. Her scalding skin stripped her body of her warframe, leaving just her naked, pure, charcoal black figure floating in the middle of a fiery sun. A fiery tornado of flames and wind whipped round her . She hugged herself with blistering arms into a ball as the flames raged and the heat grew and grew. With a final burst of energy, her entire being was consumed by fire, and along with it, her world.
But from the dying star came something greater; a blizzard, white and feral like the wolves of the Arctic. The Frost stood in its centre while violent winds raged around him and blew the Grineer apart, scattering them like mere ragdolls. Some he impaled into the ceiling and walls with gargantuan shards of ice; no blood dripped from their bodies as they died, for it had already frozen in their veins. The globe of ice around him deflected any attempts to breach into the main Tenno formation. The winter's chill embraced the wounded Tenno around him, numbing their vicious pain and allowing the blood to flow slower in a bid to prolong their fleeting breaths. The Trinity rushed to and fro while the Frost gunned down any incoming forces with precise shots from his Soma.
Ash seemed to know where the Frost was to fire, for he effortlessly weaved and ducked between short bursts as if it was a mere reflex. It almost scared him, how Ash managed to kill so efficiently with every stroke, and how he did so without a moment's thought. He needed not to be asked, just given a motive. When he came in he had nothing to him but hatred. Now he was given the tools to embody it. The Frost's almost regretful eyes found the Vauban, who was busy yanking a machete from the shoulder of a Butcher.
Vulcan, what have you done to him?
Laughter sounded over the gunfire somewhere from down the hall. It sounded like something otherworldly, something not quite human, or Grineer, for that matter. Black forms, suited in obsidian with claws protruding from their hands too thin for their arms. They scampered towards the Tenno on all fours, claws scraping over the rattling of guns and the ever-presence of their cackling. One of them bore a bloody crest painted on its shadowy helmet and had torn and stained rags flapping from in-between its armour joints. The faceplates of its fellow Grineer covered its back. It seemed to laugh the least, doing something worse altogether when it leaped at Orion. It growled, like a dog, and slashed its claws at his face. Orion ducked just a fraction too late and its hand smashed into the side of his head, taking half his faceplate with it.
Orion slashed upward with Dust and caught its shoulder pauldron with a satisfying shower of sparks. It swung at him again and smashed the sword out of his hand, sending a buzzing shockwave through Orion's arm. This was no ordinary Grineer. He tried to will Dust to him and cursed when he realised what sword he fought with. His Nikana was still lying among planks of wood in his chamber.
No matter. His gauntlets were sharpened to needle points, so he somewhat stood a fighting chance. The clone pounced; hand outstretched to Orion's throat, and vanished. Orion whipped round. His eyes frantically searched for something. The laughter rose again. Nothing struck him. He felt timidly weak. He dove straight for his sword. His fingers found the grip of the hilt and he rolled over. The maniacal laughter filled his ears as it screeched at him from the ceiling, tumbling down and claws outstretched. It slammed into his ribs, no doubt breaking a few, and began to tear into his armour. Fire branded his skin as it slashed again and again at his chest, now starting to penetrate bare ghost-white flesh. Dark red lined its claws. Any effort he made was in vain, instantly forced aside by the primal strength of the clone.
The pain stopped just as blood started to trickle into the sides of his vision. His eyelids cracked open slightly to stare at the grey blade of a serrated Kama dripping with biological fluid. It was wrenched out and the body was kicked to the side, rasping and spluttering.
Against the harsh light of the Dojo Orion saw the damned, most recognisable helmet of a Tenno he would ever see, one that snatched away his breath in disbelief and relief at once. He would have laughed if his chest didn't hurt so damn badly and if the battle did not still rage around them. The hammerhead-helmeted stranger offered him a hand.
"Too long, my friend. Too damn long." The cocky smile was practically visible from under his helmet.
"Fenrir... how di-" Orion brought his trembling hand up to the Loki's.
"I think you've grown beyond asking why or how, Ash. Decoys, to save you the trouble. Very useful. Come on, up and at 'em." He patted Orion on the back and motioned over to Antheia, who Orion had failed to notice almost dancing through the squadrons of crazed bionic nightmares that were hunting them.
"It's rude to keep the lady waiting, Ash. Go get her." He winked and disappeared into nothingness. Two frantically reloading marines quickly lost their heads while peering from behind a slab of broken masonry.
Orion plunged the blade into the dying Grineer and allowed the life force to drain into him. His chest wounds closed up and his warframe sizzled back over his scars. He grasped the broken edge of his ceramic faceplate and ripped it from his helmet. His blade sucked in fresh air as he pulled it from the still body lying next to him.
I saw him before, following you. I thought it would be better for you to find out this way, though. Any other time and you would have killed him.
Is that so?
I expected a different reaction. You've changed.
Don't tell me. We'll talk later.
Later, then.
Orion ran and ran through hellish flames and vulgar spouts of rage onto the other front of the seemingly never-ending battle. Antheia seemed to be having trouble , only barely managing to stave off the two Butchers that chopped and swung at her feeble-looking daggers. Their only mistake was their ignorance, not that they could be blamed. He managed to make it to her just as she ducked under a clumsily-placed swing to her head and plunged the Fang into the weak spot under the Butchers arm. She nimbly stepped round and behind it, taking the dagger with her. Its hot flesh steamed in the air as it collapsed, entrails spilling out pink from under its armour. Her other dagger she threw into the remaining Grineer's chest and looked to finish it off, but she noticed Orion watching her and she stood up to face him.
His hand relaxed on his sword.
"You missed one."
"You sure?" She didn't even have to look as the Butcher stared in horror at its chest, which began to slowly fall apart in a gooey mess of blood and flesh. Orion smirked.
The Grineer numbers thinned, but so did the numbers of the Tenno. Orion could barely count half of who had started the battle. He knew definitely who had died; he had seen their deaths, all too painfully. The Nova, Umbra's fellow Sister, an Excalibur with sheens of metal scraped on his gauntlet... Too many. But now was not the time for grief. He noticed, however, that there was an increasingly large gap in the Grineer defences. A gap that was to be filled by something. Orion rolled his shoulder and gripped Dust more firmly. But so far the real threat wasn't here. He hadn't had fun in a while.
"Antheia."
"Yes?" She replied as she yanked the Fang out of the liquefied Butcher's chest.
"Care to dance?" He asked with a coy smile.
He could imagine her smiling with perfect white teeth as she laughed.
The two found the main battle in the center, near the trading post on the second floor. A Prosecutor was making short work of the Disciples that attempted to strike it, quickly burning away appendages and searing away the courage that once defended them. It cackled under its muffling helmet. Flames roared at the Tenno, forcing them away every time they dared come near it. The sickly sweet smell of fuel choked their breaths as the pair bounded up the stairs. Four marines came to greet them, Grakatas and Karaks raised. How many shots did they manage to fire? Four? Five? Orion didn't care to count. Neither did Antheia. A swift slice across the throat and poisonous shot into the neck from her Tysis took two down. Orion crouched under their barrels and spun round, letting the full force of his legs carry him through and slice them both apart with one fell stroke.
"Brothers, step aside!" Orion barked at the remaining Tenno that hadn't fallen to the Prosecutor's flame-wreathed Amphis.
They reacted instantly, simultaneously flipping back into safety with swords poised.
"Shall we?" She offered with a hidden smile.
He didn't need to answer. The two sprang at the Prosecutor as one, Orion to its left, Antheia to its right. More hellish cackling escaped the confines of the metal grilles it had for its mouth as it raised the cudgel. They jumped for its undersides, both dancing round its every swing and blow. The Amphis spewed fire at them as the Prosecutor's limbs groaned to match their elegant waltz. A nick of armour here, a slashed wire there, but it was getting weaker.
There! Antheia saw an opening in its underarm, where the metallic joints creaked under the force of its massive swings. Under that was a bright yellow light that glowed hotter and brighter as the Prosecutor swung and swung again. Its core.
"Ash!"
"I know."
She found his eyes for just a moment as the Prosecutor brought the Amphis down on him. He sidestepped the clumsy attack and rushed under it. Antheia did the same. She leapt first. She willed the Tysis to fire, and it responded with violent squeezes and pulses as spines whistled out. These spines latched onto the Prosecutor and began to flood its entire system with liquid. The titanic Grineer tried to bat her away, but it found that its augmented limbs did not allow him. They were stuck. The liquid had entered the motors and solidified, freezing the Prosecutor from the inside out with solid bone. Armour plates broke off and exposed its spine and its mouth grille fell apart to display its agonised grin.
Orion took his chance and reversed the grip on his sword as he soared over it. Gravity pulled him down along with Dust, which tore into the Prosecutor's back and broke apart the bony mass that entombed it. With its metallic spine exposed, Orion shoved his clawed hand into its back and ripped the spine out. With a fading croak, the Prosecutor slammed into the ground, dead.
Orion, with the flaming Amphis now extinguished, swore that he felt a little colder.
The Frost was busy fighting his own battles. His Orthos blades clashed time and time again at the daringly ferocious attacks of the Grineer Manic with resounding rings. Sparks flew as the one of the tips nicked its armour plate. It was weakening. Small relief found him in-between his strikes as he found another one at its abdomen. However, even though he was slowly winning this idle slashing of steel, the battle started to tip against the Tenno. The golden gates shook once again as Bombards with Tonkor grenade launchers took up positions at the back of the main formations and tossed pulsing grenades forth. They didn't give yet, but his intuition had taught him to look further than just the present. But his intuition was what now betrayed him.
His concentration had drifted for a split second, and he paid the painful price for it. A powerful sweep at the Orthos cut deep into his hand. He was forced to hold the staff with one hand, the other gushing blood from where the rusty claw had cut into him and sliced through his glove to the white underneath. He held the Orthos with a trembling arm; he had been fighting for too long. He had been warned before that his zeal would be the death of him someday; he just never thought to take it to heart. His ignorance, it seemed, was another regret he would take to his-
No. I'm not dying here.
The Manic reared on its jackal-like legs and sprung at him. It batted the Orthos aside with ease. The Frost skidded across the floor, tumbling in a strange embrace with the Grineer half-creature. It tried to go for his throat, but he immediately willed the suit to exhale all the swirling air underneath. It hissed and sprayed deadly liquid nitrogen all across his attacker. Its limbs froze to its armour as it realised in wide-eyed horror that it couldn't move. However, one of its claws was still buried in his gut. Only the cold had kept the pain at bay, until now.
The Frost grimaced as he held its face away with his injured hand; his good one drew a Karyst dagger and plunged it into the helmet, yanked it out, then plunged it back in again. Charcoal black fluid covered his torso as it poured from the Manic's bionic throat and its life rattled away with its breaths. His lungs heaved.
Maybe we'll get through this.
He looked at his bloodstained hands. His knees crumpled forward. His vision swam at the edges and the familiar blue tinge that covered his helmet was now gone. His shields would not hold.
Just... maybe...
Someone yelling at him from a battle a million miles away.
"FROST!"
Something hit her in the head, this time a lot harder. Her body was awake before her mind, and when her head caught up, she was splayed across the metal grating with her face hugging the floor.
Ilene sat up. Her fingers dabbed her head and she check for blood, finding none. She rubbed her head and looked up at annoyance at the surgical machine that whirred back and forth, broken. Her fingers felt cold. But at least her fingers felt. Her head was numb, save for a constant dizziness and nausea that stuck to her like the ERI fluid slick on her shaven scalp. Her feet were trying to stand up on their own but- oh god! Her legs were not hers - they were white plated metal, shimmering on the sides with lilac energy. She tried to find a memory of any such change, but she found she couldn't remember much at all, except that...
The eye.
It was terrible. It stared into her, unblinking. Ilenegrasped her head with both hands. She groaned. She rid the memory from her head and breathed to calm her rising panic.
Ilene heard voices. Voices that talked in a language that wasn't hers. She frantically looked round as the metal clanking of Grineer footsteps got louder. Something to defend herself with. Scalpels? Too thin. Laser drills? Too weak.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" She cursed under her breath, uncaring for any formality that she was supposed to keep. No one would hear it, anyway. The ward was empty, save for the machines that buzzed and whirred in her ears like flies.
Her eyes found a warframe, unlike anything she had seen, but it looked to be her size. Hawk's wings were unfurled at its wrists, with a fearsome beak that adorned its helmet. She scrambled to her artificial feet and laid her hand on its chest. She spoke with haste.
"Lotus, open yourself to me. My feet shall carry your message. My hands shall guide your vengeance. My blade shall hold true, and my gun shall sing your praise. May you never wither, and may your petals bloom forever."
The warframe edged away from her but opened up nevertheless. The footsteps were right outside the door. Ilene stepped both feet in, then shoved her hands into the glove parts and slotted the helmet hood over her head. The warframe rushed to every part of her body, even down to places that made her squeal in surprise when they slithered over.
The door quietly whispered the marines' arrival. She gritted her teeth as the warframe moulded itself around her lithe body. When it had wrapped itself around her fully, she quickly tapped the button outside the frame holder and stepped back in. It whirled her into blackness and the smell of grease.
The marines took their time, and they didn't seem to have intention of leaving. Ilene couldn't seem to control them, no matter how hard she tried. Her fleeting hopes were dashed, then; her psynapse was gone. But this warframe, what was it? She tried to read where the marines were in the room. One on the operating table, one checking the cabinets and mumbling something. She breathed in, then out, then in again. She wasn't sure if it was the warframe tightening on her throat or just her nerves. The light of the ward nearly blinded her as the panel swivelled round and threw her out. She immediately launched herself into the air towards the marine at the operating table. Her foot landed square on his helmet. Glass shattered in its helmet and it crashed into the table. Ilene landed with nothing but a soft hiss. Remarkable.
The air seemed to hold her and cushion her as she punched the marine in the torso and again in its face. Her strikes never really connected with it; the air seemed to hold the most force as it swam in and out of her warframe. Her fists were a flurry, chopping and smashing with brutal force into its throat. Her confidence grew with the force of her punches and kicks; soon the marine staggered with every blow. The warframe didn't shrink as much now. It was warming to her.
The other marine had noticed the commotion and rushed to its Grakata. It took up aim and fired a few bursts with her in the sights. She didn't react in time, only barely managing to bring her arm up, but the warframe did. A nearly invisible barrier of wind shielded her from the bullets, which floated uselessly in mid air. The marine, now realising the futility of his weapon, dropped it and ran to the door.
The door immediately shut, locked in place by the air vacuum Ilene somehow managed to create.
So it isn't all gone. I can make this work.
She dropped the lifeless body in her hands and glided over to the marine by the door, who slammed the frame again and again with fear-fuelled strength, crying for comrades that weren't there. It whipped round in terror as Ilene approached it. She rammed its head into the door and willed energy in through her hands. The air obeyed her, swirling round her feet, through her body, around her arms and into her fingertips. The sheer force of the gales that she conjured rushed forth into its helmet like a column before a city's gates, destroying anything that might have been inside. The wind snatched away its dying screams.
She unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. This shuttle apparently never made it out. The pilot lay dead next to the entrance to the ward. Ilene looked out to the entrance into the Dojo. She knew what she had to do.
I'm coming, Ash. Her eyes flashed lilac as she began to fly. Just hang on.
Grahs'tor grinned with giddy glee as her bullet found its target. The bullet entered just through the small slit in that vermisker's helmet, just like she had been taught. This was not grunt she had killed. A high ranking one. Probably the Warlord. Oh, as she stared down her gritty gun sights, she thought about the promotion she would get, about how her genes would be prized over a million others. She grinned a toothless grin again.
But as she stared into the mesh of camouflage, crimson and flashing steel, she noticed something glittering, moving very, very fast...
The last thing the Grineer sniper heard was probably a faint whispering, then a definite ringing in her oral sensors, then a screaming of razor-sharp metal. A second was all it took. Her partner also lay dead in her own blood, Marelok lying next to her cold bionic hand.
Even though the battle had been raging around him, gunfire painting the room with yellow flashes and blood carving itself into the floor, it only came back to him now. His arm was stretched out from him. He had killed through only instinct.
Orion stared down at the Frost's corpse. He found it hard to imagine a face under that hood, lying dead, cold as it ever was. Those eyes, those eyes the grey of wolf fur, now dead, along with all the others around him. A bullet shattered into his back. He calmly sheathed the Karyst and looked out to his attacker. Another grunt by itself, revolting like the rest.
This grunt was brave, certainly, perhaps under the drug-like influence of heart-pumping carnage and the bravado it felt after finally fighting with its comrades. But Orion had no care for these things.
Orion closed the distance within two clicks to the automatic on its gun. He cut the marine once, just a little, so that it would bleed. Then he slashed off its forearm, so that it bled more. He sliced off its other arm, ignoring its screams. His face held no expression when he separated its torso from its legs. The cut was clean, so the marine stayed on its legs for a few more agonising moments. When Orion deemed its screams too bothersome to listen to, he smashed his fist into its helmet and shattered its brains across the marble floor.
A silence snatched the sound of gunfire from the air and shrouded their ears with a curtain of nothingness. The loudest thing in the room was the absence of anything audible; just the vague ringing in the back of their heads and the drumming of their heartbeats in their chests.
The cowards run.
And they did. The Grineer had, with incredibly unlikeness, actually held formation and sprinted further down to the landing pavilion a few hundred metres away. They scurried off behind pillars and dislodged slabs of metal. Not one dared to show their heads.
They're not running. They're regrouping.
Instead of feeling what should have been a welcome throb of victory in his chest, Orion sensed only dread. The Tenno immediately began to tend to the wounded and to themselves, picking out bits of shrapnel from their skin and fraying warframe fibres. The Trinity diligently planted wells of life in the bodies of the dead which embraced the Tenno around them and healed those most injured.
I feel that this is not the end of your battle.
It's almost as if you can read my thoughts.
Don't waste time with your petty jokes, Orion.
I may need to teach you about sarcasm some day, Dust.
I understand your attempts at humour.
Oh, do you, now?
I simply do not find them entertaining.
As they ran, Orion found himself entertaining the thought of surviving. Hope curved his lips into a slight smile. But the worst was still to come.
The distinct clacking of Antheia's shoes sounded from behind him. He turned round. Any lightness of mood dissipated immediately as he set his eyes on the scene before him. Blood, although not an unfamiliar sight, drenched the halls, and bodies littered the halls. The putrid stench snaked into his helmet. Antheia stood among them, Fangs dripping, like a thorn-covered rose in a garden of shrivelled weeds.
He had to tread carefully to avoid stepping on any bodies in the field of dead Grineer that surrounded him. One of the bodies was not as deformed, dark or bloody. A rather small figure, with coils round its arms and electricity sparking across its torso. The Volt. Orion kneeled down and tucked his sword behind his back. The back of his hand found the body cold and long gone. His brow furrowed. It hadn't been long since he saw the Volt alive. How long had this strange world of his taken to change? A week? It shocked him still.
"Who's next in command?" Orion sounded very tired. It worried her.
"What do you mean? The Frost-" Her voice faltered when she turned to his corpse. Her grief seemed to radiate through her fingertips, for she fidgeted and clasped and unclasped them constantly now.
"I see."
"Well? Who gives the orders?" Orion asked again.
We carry on with the plan. We defend to the last.
Umbra's familiar voice did not seem so familiar anymore. It was drunk with the opium-like after-dream of adrenaline and the pangs of regret she felt for all the dead around her.
The air blew across Orion's ashen hair. His eyes found the disturbance, thundering down the corridor with metal claws for feet. He recoiled when he realised who it was. He barely caught himself. As starkly yellow as the sun's light, with a mask a black as death, it was Hek.