Forschner sat in a dark cell, stripped of all his gear. The guards even took his coat and hat, which costed a guard his nose and teeth. Bruised and bloodied, Forschner stared down at his feet from his seat when he felt a presence outside his cell.

"There was no need for you to come... Lady Emilia."

Forschner spoke in a grim and painful voice, raising himself up.

He found Emilia by his cell, looking troubled, in her usual white and purple outfit. She averted her gaze and bit her lip.

"Why, Forschner? Why did you do it?"

Forschner looked at her with almost sad eyes, but there was no regret.

"I had to, Lady Emilia. It was my sole purpose and duty, and I would do it again."

Emilia looked up with eyes of horror. There were slight tears in her eyes.

"Was it worth it?" she asked with trembling voice.

"It's worth everything," he replied.

Emilia held back her tears as she turned away.

"I don't get you, Forschner. I don't understand! Why? What was it for? Can't you hold back even the slightest? Why do you always cause trouble? Why?"

Emilia turned away, hiding her face. Forschner did not speak; he only listened.

Emilia wiped her tear.

"They are sending you to Roswaal's mansion to be his prisoner until your sentence is decided."

For the first time Forschner's expression changed into one of shock.

"That heretic... was there?"

Emilia continued to avert her gaze, speaking only to the floor.

"He said he will have you as his prisoner since I am under his protection, and you are under mine. It was done under the pretense that Lord Roswaal will take care of the situation with minimal damage. But the damage is done, Forschner."

"Lady Emilia, you have seen what the heretic has done! He speaks lies and corrupts."

Forschner slammed on the bars, rattling the cell and startling Emilia.

"You must not let those heretics take me!"

Emilia looked at Forschner with pitiful eyes.

"I'm sorry, Forschner. I can't do that. You took that choice from me."

Forschner ground his teeth in anger.

"Then you kill me here instead."

Emilia looked at Forschner in disgust and fright, then turned away in tears.

"You can't ask me to something like that! Why are you always like that? Is dying that easy to you? Why can't you change?"

Dying... Easy? Huh...

Forschner thought to himself. It wasn't until lately that dying has become something so easy for him.

"I... I can not change, but perhaps I was wrong to ask you to kill me. I shall comply for now, Lady Emilia. Forgive me."

Emilia covered her mouth and walked away.

"Goodbye... Forschner."

Forschner heard her murmur from a distance before disappearing from sight. He quietly fell to his seat and lowered his head in pain. He gathered his hands before his head and bowed.

"Our most glorious Emperor of Mankind, what is it that you wish me to do? Please, shine your beacon of light and give me directions."

He pleaded desperately.

…...

A man in towering gold armour stepped into the capital. He was an older male with short grey hair brushed to the side and a beard. He held a mechanized hammer in his right hand.

"So this is the capital of Lugnica. What an astounding view."

He raised his left hand to shade his eyes. His stature drew attention of all the people walking past him. A younger male walked beside him, blonde hair and wearing black chest plate over his fatigue, slinging a gun over his shoulder.

"This place reeks of mutants and heretic scums," the man in black armour muttered.

"Now, now. Let's not say that. One day, this world will also learn of the glory of the Emperor. But the time will not come if we fail to find him."

The man in golden armour spoke to his retinue.

"I do not understand, my lord. This is an old, abandoned world, far from any civilized worlds. Why would anyone from the Imperial Guard-"

The man in gold armour stopped him.

"In High Gothic, Lexandros. I can't have my retinue speak in such low tongue."

"I apologize, my lord. Astra Militarum, let alone an officer of the Officio Prefectus, in this forsaken world?"

The man in gold armour chuckled, his grey beard dancing as he laughed. He stroked his beard with his giant gloved hand.

"If my visions hold true, we shall meet him here. Otherwise, we have wasted our trip here. Now how often does my visions hold true, Lexandros?"

Lexandros stuttered for a bit.

"All the time, my lord."

The man laughed once more.

"Then hold faith in the Emperor and do as I say."

A rosette of a crimson "I" with a skull etched in the centre hung from the man's belt.