Okay so I'm kinda picking up the pace again here. This one's about 6k for you guys (Fudging those numbers a bit, but you're not gonna count them :3 ). They're on their way to wherever, to do whatever, because in the middle of the giant shitstorm that is the battle for Yul'Te, they don't really know exactly what the hell's going on. College is amazing, and I've been having an absolute blast so far. My classes are fun, my teachers funny, and there's a party every night (which I skip to write this fairy-tale crap for you needy people.) So, life's grand, and I'll start on the next chapter soon. This story as I go on, I've noticed, is getting deep. And I mean really deep, with lots of complex stuff going on in terms of character development, and other things. In addition, I'm going to start going into the larger scope of the battle. Just a heads up, planning an entire war and weaving these characters into it is going to take time. I think, however, that I might have a way of doing that. This next chapter will be my exploration of this method. What I'm saying is that I'm going to introduce a separate story arc with some new characters. Tell me what you think in the review section. I know it might sound weird, but give it a chance. This war is going to get nuts, and in order to do that as I said, I'll need time. Sorry if this turns into a slog of slow updates, but I'll try my best. Again, to my faithful readers, thanks so much. You are what gives my work meaning. Also check out my friend cobhc94's works. He writes Sonic the Hedgehog and Pokemon fanfics, and is working on a Batman one based on the new movie. I think he should include Robin in it though. You should tell him that. Until next time, here's something to occupy yourselves with.

Absolute silence reigned once more, only fought by the faint thrum of machinery and Andron's gradually slowing breathing pattern. Aureleth stood leaning forward, having yet to move from colliding with the since dead Eldar soldier, silent. The world had constricted to a space the size of a prison cell, where a dark reality was beginning to coalesce into existence, spawned by a sick irony of war and death. Blood continued to pump from the warrior's shattered and burnt arteries, dripping onto the floor with deafening splashes despite a fall of only a few inches. A small pool began to form at his neck.

Andron had thought that he was going to die. Again though, Aureleth had saved his life, and he hers. His heart pounded, blood drumming in his ears as his hands slowly loosened their vice grips on his lasrifle. It suddenly weighed as much as a starship in his arms, and it clattered to the floor. He hated killing. He truly loathed it, and he realized that every time he had taken someone's life… he had always considered them like himself, not somethings… it had hurt him. He found no glory in slaughter and death. Even when they had come under attack in the streets and he had shot one of the Eldar from the roof of a nearby home, he had followed the dying warrior to his final resting place with his eyes, understanding that he had ended a life just like his own. His eyes fell from where his attacker had been to where he now lay, dead in a pool of his own blood as the red liquid, just like his own, went from pumping to dribbling from his veins. Andron flinched at the sound of each drop impacting the puddle that had formed below his neck. He wanted nothing more than to escape all of it, to leave them to kill each other while the three of them found better lives, or even existences that could even be considered lives to begin with, elsewhere. He had to suffer through it, though. He was doing it for them, for their survival. He had to. A tiny movement caught his eye off to his right. He looked and found himself staring directly into a gaze he had only seen in shell-shocked guardsmen, only it was a child.

Eruwen stared with a mixture of morbid curiosity and utter shock at the corpse that lay in front of her. She had heard it… him as he had tried to suck his final breaths through his shattered neck. He lay in a growing pool of his own blood. It was slightly brighter in color than the deep crimson of that human's blood. It dribbled from his veins and arteries which were slightly charred and cauterized along their edges where the lasbolt had pierced. Smoke curled up from blackened, smoldering holes in his chestplate and neck armor, the visual avatar of his soul as the body turned into a husk, devoid of any life. With a disturbing sense of connection she realized that he had been staring right at her as he died, his head tilted to the side, the eye gems of his helmet pointed directly at her. In the dim light, she saw herself in their nearly immaculately polished surfaces, her face bulbous and distorted in their rounded shapes. They drew her in, their deep red hue, and the way she saw herself in them. She took a step forward, reaching out to them, not sure what she would fine within their seemingly endless depths as they showed her herself from the eyes of the dead.

Andron saw her reach out, stepping forward. She had the same emotionless expression, the one that, though seemingly devoid of feeling, conveyed more about a man than any he had ever seen before in his life. It was the look of someone who was dying; dying not in body, but in soul. It was the face of someone who had seen the dead, and looked into their eyes, seeing themself, being made aware of morbid truths no mortal, let alone a child, should have to comprehend. It was someone who was on the edge of life, drawn by the dead to join them, to become one with them even if their body still walked. He could not allow that to happen to her.

"Eruwen," He tried to sound as calm and soothing as he could, but he had nearly been killed, and had just perpetrated the act himself. He could barely conceal the emotions that were running wild inside of him, as they always had. The only difference was that he had time to think. He was able to dwell on what he had done, whereas in other cases he had simply had to keep killing in order to stay alive, ignoring the small voice in his soul asking if it was even worth it, taking so many lives so that his own might continue. From where he sat, he reached out to the child, whose eyes darted to his hand before she turned and ran, each footstep away from him like that of a titan on his heart.

Aureleth stared ahead, where the soldier's eyes had been. All she saw was a wall. Where life had once stood, lay death. In her mind she relived the last moments of the warrior's life, feeling the emotions, hearing his thoughts, seeing what he saw, smelling the death that he had partook in. The single question he had asked her nearly brought her to tears. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bare feet padding against the ground and the scuff of boots that followed. She turned to the source of the sound.

She was so confused, which only compounded the fear she felt strangling her. She was unsure as to exactly what she was afraid of, whether it was the body, or the fighting, or if a sickening reality had shattered what she had tried to embrace in its stead, but she felt fear welling up inside of her again, threatening to destroy the fragile sense of security that she had found with Andron and Aureleth. She simply wanted to run from it, to escape it in the only way that she saw how at that point. Even then, however, in the back of her writhing mind, she questioned whether or not it was futile. She wondered if it would follow her wherever she went, if there was no escaping from what surrounded her. Why would Andron kill an Eldar if he so loved Aureleth and her? Why would an Eldar kill him if he were so beloved to her and Aureleth? Her thoughts were interrupted by the gentle yet almost unyielding grip of arms around her. Part of her wanted to cry out, to panic. She knew why, yet it also puzzled her. So much conflict surrounded her and permeated her, and it was not only in the form of swords clashing and guns firing. She felt a conflict within her as well. The consequences of that conflict were too much for her to think of at the time, so she ignored them, hoping that they would simply disappear. She knew, however, that they were far too close to simply fall into oblivion, and that it would likely not be long before they reared their heads once again to roar their horrible message into her face.

He couldn't lose her again. He'd been given a single chance to try to atone with her, to attempt to mend what had been nearly if not completely destroyed, and he was about to lose it. He had no idea what he was going to say, how he would explain what he'd done… if it was even possible to explain what he'd done. As he planted his feet in the ground and they slowed to a halt, Eruwen wrapped in his embrace as he held onto her as if she would disappear forever if he let go, he began to wonder what exactly he had done. He had been inches from death, and would have died had he not acted, he told himself. He would simply have to tell her that, would he not? A small shift in the light around the corner thirty meters ahead indicated a moving source of illumination. Its harsh color was familiar to him; it was a lamp on a lasrifle.

"Oh no…" he breathed out. He leaned back as hard as he could, attempting to throw himself in the direction from which he came in preparation to sprint for his and Eruwen's lives. His eyes locked on the corner, he saw them as they rounded it. There were only a few of them, and they appeared to have been in combat very recently. Their faces were grimy, their uniforms covered in ash or torn in areas, the muzzles of their lasrifles capped in dark scorch marks from being fired. He felt Eruwen's efforts to escape him cease as she froze in fear at the sight of the humans rounding the corner, their weapons raised. A split second before he completely turned himself around to run, he first of them locked eyes with him. All that was to be said was said in an instant; however it took precious seconds for Andron's new enemies to understand. In those seconds of astonishment, and the time it took for their lasrifles to flash to their shoulders, and their fingers to squeeze the triggers, he had almost completely disappeared behind the corner from which he had originally come. Red lances of death chased after him, leaving red, superheated circles in the wall that slowly began to cool to a deep black. As the air around them expanded from the flash of heat, the sound of the lasfire reached him, the familiar snap like that of a whip the voices of the guardsmen that chased after him. A single lasbolt nearly found its mark among the numerous rushed shots that chased him, the beam vaporizing the sheen of sweat that had formed on his cheek as it passed. He grunted in pain as Eruwen let out a cry of alarm, gripping onto him with all her might.

Aureleth had been kneeling by the fallen warrior's side, having finally found her ability to move again when she heard the gunfire. She had simply stared into his dead eyes, trying to find an answer to his question. "Why?" He had asked. No, he had begged, she remembered. Though it hurt him, she knew, she had done what she had for their love, and for Eruwen. She had no time, however, and stood, his soulstone in her hand. She placed it on her person before donning her helmet and retrieving her weapons. As she turned, Andron rounded the corner, frantically trying to escape with Eruwen in his arms. She admired how altruistic he was, always with the good of others on the forefront of his mind. She did not harbor the same sentiments at that moment, however. They needed to fight. Running would only get them killed in the lobby or longer halls.

She rounded the corner, ignoring Andron's shouts to follow as he scooped his lasrifle from the ground and stopped to turn to her. She stared down the hallway to find four humans with raised rifles advancing towards her. The mere sight of her, however, stopped them dead. Amid shouts to take cover and fire, they dispersed, making themselves as small targets as possible against the walls and swinging their lasrifles to bear upon her. They were only twenty meters away, and from there she could see the fear on their faces as they assessed the great threat she posed. Judging by their condition, she assumed that they had already faced others. Her chainsword screamed to life, and she crossed the distance between them in two bounds.

Andron watched in confused horror as Aureleth turned the corner directly into the enemy's line of fire. He had confidence in her ability, and had seen it first hand against more than four foes, however the thought of her being hurt again worried him immensely. He placed Eruwen on the ground and put himself against the wall before leaning around to fire down the hallway. He was midway through squeezing the trigger when the first of them died.

Propelling herself through the air, she contorted around their aim, lasbolts searing paths through the air around her. She landed on her knees, leaning backwards, her chainsword held out, and slid past the first of them. The sword passed through his legs, and he fell into a screaming, thrashing, bloody heap, his contracted finger squeezing the trigger on his rifle, sending red bolts streaking wildly around the hall.

Andron squeezed the trigger, and his lasrifle responded with a bright red flash that blinded him for an instant in the otherwise dimly lit hall. The red beam lanced towards his target at the speed of light, and vaporized the fabric and flesh over the man's heart before the superheated water inside of his cells explosively evaporated, and his chest burst in an eruption of hot red mist, his most vital organ utterly shattered in the blast. He was propelled into a spin, his rifle discharging into the wall, leaving a red hot mark where his last futile shot impacted. He landed face down, his body twisted as his muscles no longer had any control of his limbs and his pain receptors having stopped preventing him from exceeding the limits of bending them. Andron adjusted his aim to fire again.

From the slide, she leaped forward, discharging her shuriken pistol into the chest of her second foe as she passed. The blades sang through the air at hypersonic speeds, and sliced into the guardsman's chest, sailing through his tunic as if it were not even there. The shuriken passed through his skin and deflected off of, or embedded themselves in his ribs as the others shredded his muscle and internal organs as they began to tumble inside of him. The blades burst out of his back, wrenching chunks of flesh with them, and carrying fragments of bone and his vital organs onto the wall behind him. He crumpled to the ground, sliding down against the wall with a gurgle and a look of shock.

She returned her attention to the last of them, who stood in front of her. He had been adjusting his aim, chasing her with it as he fired his lasrifle on full auto. She looked into his eyes. They were widening from almond-shaped eyes of hatred to widened, circular orbs of panic. His teeth were gritted, his youthful face covered in dirt and grime and sweat. She kicked out with her foot, deflecting the lasrifle away from her, and landed on him. He fell backwards with a shout of alarm, her foot firmly planted on his chest. They landed with a bone-crunching thud, and he spent his last seconds alive staring into a faceless, emotionless, and all the more terrifying helmet. The impact had punctured one of his lungs, and a mist of blood erupted from his mouth, painting his face a bright red as the droplets returned to him. She raised her sword, the teeth spinning at blinding speeds, slinging gore from its previous victim along the walls in lines, and stared into the man's face. Though she wore her helmet, she could see it in his eyes that he saw her staring into his very soul. A torturous second passed as she looked into him.

He was young, but noticeably older than Andron was. His eyes were widened in fear, as he knew he had mere seconds to live. There was no longer the fire of hatred in his gaze, nor the sparkle of religious fervor and youthful anticipation of glory. In his eyes she saw the same primal reversion to fear that she had seen in nearly everyone she had killed or seen killed. There was only impending death. She could have spared him, she could have spared everybody she had ever killed, but the consequences of doing so would have outweighed the benefits of ending their lives. She suddenly remembered what she'd said standing by Andron's side as they watched Eruwen be consumed by her grief, and her feelings as she watched Grohm Harkin die. Each life she took had consequences, and without her war mask to absorb war's dark aura, she would have to personally bear every single one of them. The man under her, however, would have seen her dead, as well as Eruwen and Andron. Aureleth plunged her sword into his chest, directly through his sternum.

A geyser of thick red blood spewed from the soldier's mouth as the teeth wrenched his lungs and solar plexus apart and catapulted them to the ceiling from its blades in bloody chunks. Some of it sprayed onto her, but she only focused on his face with grim satisfaction as he died. She wrenched the sword to the side, pivoting it on its point that was embedded in the floor. The shift allowed the whirring teeth to bite further into the man's chest, causing even more damage to the already doomed soldier. He attempted to scream in agony at the movement, for it increased the pain tenfold. He only gurgled and coughed blood into the air, however, several droplets reaching up to her face, carried by the force with which he convulsed. She remained that way for several seconds before wrenching the sword from her victim's utterly destroyed chest. The teeth slowed to a halt, shredded strings of muscle and tissue hanging from them, dripping blood onto the floor as the weapon hung loosely in her hand at her side. Each drop impacting the ground was deafening in the silence that followed. She exhaled a shuddering breath, and stared at the corpse.

Andron lowered his lasrifle, all of the targets having been killed. In their midst stood Aureleth, her armor splattered with blood, the deep crimson contrasting sharply with the green and yellow of her armor. In her stance, he saw the same feelings he had had after he'd killed his assailant only moments earlier: regret. He was not intimately acquainted with Eldar culture, but without her war mask, he knew that she would have to learn to cope with war the way he had to, and to suddenly have to do so would not be easy for either of them to address. He knew not else what to do, so he simply called out to her.

Before it was etched into her memory, Aureleth was disturbed by the clarity with which she remembered the moment she had killed that final man. Every detail was embedded in her mind, to remain there permanently. She had killed before, she thought. She had slain many in her lifetime, but for some reason she was troubled by her last opponent. Why, though, she wondered? Andron's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Aureleth…" He knew not else what to say.

Eruwen stared at Aureleth. Her elegant green and yellow armor, her graceful form, was splattered and covered with blood, chunks of muscle and flesh, and other parts of those that she had killed. She stood, her sword dripping blood and gore, a smattering of blood droplets on her helmet, pooling and collecting at the lip of the featureless faceplate underneath angrily slanted eye gems. Eruwen felt fear, fear of her own kind, fear of Aureleth, who had saved her, and loved her as much as Andron had… her mind returned to him, and then to the body of the Eldar he had killed, lying in a pool of his own blood and staring at her as the life drained out of him. She was afraid of him too. She was afraid of death, and the body, Aureleth and Andron were at that time to her one with death. They killed, just like everyone else did. They killed, just like the other humans did, just like the other Eldar did, and just like the humans that had— Eruwen was overcome with horror, all of the solace she thought she had found in the face of war and death having been false. There was no escape, not even with the ones she trusted, for they too were a part of war and death. Tears flowing freely down her cheeks, she turned to run, only to realize that she had nowhere to go. She was trapped, more so than she had previously imagined. She made it several steps before Andron noticed her and moved again to stop her from fleeing at which point her legs gave out and she fainted, her last memory while conscious being the room spinning as he caught her falling by one hand and she pivoted about before he pulled her into his arms.

Andron turned back out of impulse and saw the wild look in her eyes. He saw that she was going to try to run again, and reached out to grab her. He had her one hand in his own before he realized that she was falling, and quickly pulled her from her path towards the hard floor and supported her. Her sudden loss of consciousness broke him out of the emotional and physiological limbo he had entered after combat, striking panic into his heart as his immediate thoughts were that she had been shot. He quickly took her slender wrist, feeling for a pulse as he realized there was a considerable chance he would not find one due to simple physical differences between them. He was, however, relieved to see that she was still breathing, and quickly checked her for wounds before letting out a long sigh of relief.

Aureleth felt Eruwen's despair. She had even seen the way the child saw her, such was the nature of their kind. It horrified her. She was utterly revolted by what she saw. Aureleth saw murder, hatred, death, and pain. While she had seen them before, she had never seen them in herself, and it was then that she realized that she had lost control, even if it only manifested itself in the smallest of upward curls in her lips after a single, cruel twist of her arm as she killed her last victim. That had been her. There was nothing else that had done that, no alter-ego designed for war; only her. She herself had killed with hatred and malice. It had been mainly in defense, she knew, but there lied something dark beneath her actions, and it frightened her. She could not let it happen again. She knew the consequences of becoming one with one's war mask, but there was nothing to guide her in dealing with the loss of it, and having all of the darkness and fire of war poured directly into her soul unfiltered and unchained. They needed to leave. She needed to leave that place.

"Andron, we must go. Do not worry for Eruwen, but we must leave now."

He stood, the child in his arms, worry plastered on his face despite her assurance. He noticed a darkness to her demeanor as she had said it, and it concerned him in addition to his already present worries.

"Where to?"

"This way," she indicated the direction through the lobby, still filled with the dead.

Andron was thankful that Eruwen had fainted, for she would not have to bear witness to what lay inside. Together they continued on towards what had been their destination for the past several days. Where it would lead them, however, they were unsure. Aureleth had said she had some thoughts, he knew, but ultimately they could not plan too far ahead save for the goal of survival, and even that was not necessarily long-term. He would do what was necessary, though, to ensure that they remained safe. They began walking, Andron stooping to pick up his rifle as he had dropped it while catching Eruwen. He prayed that he would not need to use it again, if only for Eruwen's sake as it would mean risk to her. They returned to the entrance to the lobby, and stood for a moment as one did when confronted with the sight of a massacre. The walls and floor were slick and coated with blood, the air stank of death, and he could nearly taste the iron tang that lingered in the air from the drained bodies. Careful to keep Eruwen from contact with the floor, or any surface, her head nestled into the crook of his shoulder and chest, he followed Aureleth through the dimly lit halls. Silence reigned once again, and was again only challenged by the distant and soft thrum of machinery and flowing energy. Aureleth walked ahead of him, and he noticed a hurried manner to her pace and gait. It was almost as if she was fleeing at a walk. They continued in that manner for ten minutes, neither uttering a word, lost in their own thoughts. Andron's were consumed with what he would do to explain what he'd done to Eruwen if it were even possible. They were not even able to speak the same language, though he supposed he could use Aureleth as an interpreter. He cast that idea away, however; it would seem disconnected and insincere if he were to do it in that manner.

He looked to Aureleth, who was scanning entrances and potential cover as she walked, her hands tightly gripping her weapons. She seemed truly internally distressed to him, and it was evident that she did not want it to show. He would have to ask her what was troubling her so. A thought entered his mind which he had not considered before, but thought himself a fool for having not. He had not even considered, due to having so little time to think of it, the fact that she was in different standing with her own people than he was with his. A pit of ice formed in his stomach. He had killed one of her kind right in front of her. It had been in self-defense, though, and she had intervened in order to save his life. When they first came into contact with other Eldar together she had vowed that she would protect him with her own life, and did so with a very thinly veiled threat of violence against them in order to do so. Andron was unsure. Had something happened, he wondered? He would speak to her about it when they got a chance. Surely Aureleth would not deliberately hide her emotions from him, no matter how much they might trouble him.

She could not stop her mind from jumping between the two painful memories she had just acquired. One surmounted the other, however, and took its place at the forefront of her mind.

Time froze. The mask of his helmet faded away, exposing his face, as did hers. She wore a look of worry and urgency combined the blank expression one wears while in combat. She tried to avoid looking into his eyes, but they sucked her in, and it was impossible for her to avert her gaze. Within her, thoughts and ideas she had cast aside, and had been suppressing in her quest for peace suddenly began to stir again, brought back to life even if just a little by the Eldar warrior who stood before her in ceased time. She saw agony on his face. It was contorted into a mask of horror and revulsion, hurt and sadness, shock and betrayal.

"What have you done? What is this treachery?" He cried in horror.

She was unable to speak, not by any sort of restraint imposed on her by an outside force, but simply because she could not say anything in response to him.

"You consort with the enemy!"

It was then that she found her voice. "He is not my enemy, nor yours! He is…" her voice left her again. She knew what he was to her, there was no doubt in her mind, however she could not bring herself to simply shout it at the outraged soldier who stood before her.

"Are you blind? Look around you!" He threw his arms in the air in a sweeping gesture, indicating their surroundings.

All she saw was fire. Fire and death laid in every direction. She looked around her, and saw the culmination of Yul'Te's spiritual network. In times of peace it was used for communication as in times of war, and it was alive with shouted orders, situational reports, and every aspect of contact necessitated by the war that engulfed Yul'Te. She saw the war raging at the head of the Plains of Ildanesh at the border of the Dome of Falling Skies. The front held, yet there was evidence of potential breakage at other points in the surrounding area. The Imperial lines had spread from the docks, outward to the port side but were facing heavy opposition from Eldar forces, while even more reinforcements were gathering sternward to be sent to fight. Each set of reinforcements was a family torn apart, a suitor or spouse sent to war, a brother, a sister, a friend. The Imperials were gaining ground, slowly, but their fight would by no means be easy. That, however, was an afterthought. She stepped back in the spiritual hell she found herself in, and saw Yul'Te as a whole in its majesty. Stepping back further, she became aware of its surroundings. Space itself was aflame. Thousands of ships, both Eldar and Imperial fought in the blackness around them. Streaks of light flitted in and out of existence, lancing between ships over tens of thousands of miles as tiny pinpricks circled and danced around each other and travelled between ships before blossoming into bright circles that faded as quickly as they appeared. Yul'Te was utterly engulfed in war. She felt something falter within her. It was only for an instant, but it was undeniable that it had been challenged.

He continued on his tirade. "We are at war. We are fighting, dying, sacrificing everything we have so that we may live another day. These, these… barbarians," he spat the word with venom in his voice, "have come to destroy everything we have, and they will, including our very souls if we do not fight." He paused, before resuming. "Yet here you stand, not only not fighting, but protecting one of them. There is no time for thought, for morals, for what you think is right. This is time for war, and we must fight for our very existence against these fiends, and your selfishness is hindering that!"

"No time for morals, or thought?" She could not have objected more to his claim. "That human you so despise, his morals are what allowed her," she indicated Eruwen, the girl's image fading into their world before disappearing again, "to live! Why must we kill everything indiscriminately? Why must we fight constantly? When there is a chance for peace, no matter how small, is it not wrong to not cultivate and guard it? All this galaxy knows is war, but we have found a way to surmount that. We have on numerous occasions. He even spared MY life!" Aureleth was adamant to Andron's defense. She could not stand idly by while he was killed. He vowed to protect her, and she did to him as well. It was not merely for mutual benefit, but out of love. Together they had found a sanctuary away from all of the hatred and violence bred by those around them that could not see through the distorted lenses of lies, fanaticism and contempt that turned them against each other. She would not let him be wrongly accused of being one of them.

The Eldar looked at the child. She was afraid, and radiating innocence. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands covered her ears, he knew, to hide the bodies and sounds from the lobby. The little girl's jaw was clenched as she strained against the darkness trying to envelop her. He felt a moment of softness in his battle hardened soul at the sight of her. There was no purity like that of a child. One of the few left that constituted the future of their people stood before him, still alive in the midst of the fiery hell of death and war. The thought that a human would defile one revolted him. But why then had the human spared her? Perhaps hehad found time for morality in his blink of a life. He did not want to stoop to their level by being so closed-minded, and therefore considered the possibility. Even so, even under those ludicrous circumstances, war would not allow it to last.

"Very well, then. He spared your life, and the child's, but what about the others? Will there not be more to come that he will not spare? Even if it is not with malice, even if he would rather die than take any of our lives, he will. How many of us will die for your little delusion of peace while the rest of us fight for our lives?" He looked away from her, towards the direction he had been running before they had entered the world in which they spoke. He frowned, before turning back to her. "You have a duty. As an Eldar you have an obligation to fight for the survival of us as a people, as a species. Will you throw that away, throw us all away, for—" he never finished his sentence. Aureleth had been unable to see, but he had frowned because Andron had raised his lasrifle.

Aureleth's vision was consumed by a blinding red light that grew from the warrior's throat, her ears assaulted with a sound like that of a roaring wind that grew in intensity until it was physically painful. The fire disappeared, flashing away as she was returned to reality.

Aureleth's bodysuit quietly squealed around her knuckles, rubbing against the skin of her fingers, pulled taught by the force with which she gripped the handles of her weapons. She gritted her teeth, before relaxing again as they continued to walk. Her craftworld was under siege, in the middle of a massive battle where tens of millions of lives were at stake. They walked on in silence, dark emotions circling around them.

"Aureleth," He gently spoke her name. They had reached a fork in the halls, with runes on the wall indicating something in either direction.

She jumped, barely, but enough for it to be visible. She took a quiet breath, and nodded to the right. "This way. We will be there shortly."