Mable blinked as she heard a voice… and as the beeping of a machine focused her mind, she slowly shifted her gaze to the servitor skull that insulted her gaze. Having been robbed of its flesh, the human was bound to a metal analyzer, which would herald her awakening as it prescribed its own death.
"The saint is awake." The servitor whined out, which happened to be its last spoken message as she punched the skull, her fist shifting coloration to a silver coat. Conveying far more strength than she actually possessed, Mable easily shattered the exposed bone, and granted the trapped soul release. Breaking the analyzer machine as it slammed against the wall, Mable winced in pain as her muscles reacted to her strike moments after it had occurred… and as she leaned on the bed in the unfamiliar room, Mable looked to her hands… and the very green veins that ran under her skin.
"What… the…?" Mable muttered to herself… but as she did so, her voice came out… contorted. Swallowing hard as she heard… an echo in her mind as she spoke, Mable gripped her head… feeling… electricity course through her.
Did the Trygon do something to her? She remembered something about its bioelectric current… but the humming, buzzing, whir-ing that now filled her head was… so pervasive. Wondering if metal had fused to her, or if the energy discharge the creature had released trying to kill her had fried her brain, Mable…
Wait. Her bracelet was gone. Priam's name wasn't fused to her arm anymore, and, as she shifted the sheet covering her body, Mable found she was… altered. There was scar tissue, and bandages, where she had bled. Her legs, her joints, her rib… and her heart, were covered in stitches, and reinforced with silver metal where she had been cut.
"You… you didn't." Mable breathed in denial, feeling sick to her stomach as she waited for a thoughtful hum. Waited for a joyous whir. Listening for something high or low pitch, Mable… began to tear up as she realized the orb abandoned her.
Crying as she sat on the bed, hearing the rushing of metal feet as the room she was in was invaded, Mable looked through painful tears as Sindarion entered with his bolt-pistol raised, looking for any threat to no avail, before quickly shifting his red-lensed gaze to her.
"What is wrong?" The vox-caster questioned… and as Mable continued to weep for the loss of her friend, whose small, wordless voice was gone… she felt the blanket that had been put over be adjusted by the space marine. Blinking as she felt the fabric drape around her body, able to see through her tears as the Sindarion showed off his well-hidden humanity by adjusting the blanket, Mable suffered through another question. "Why are you crying?"
"He's gone, I can't… I can't feel him anymore." Mable whispered, and repeated to herself… touching the metal flesh that covered her heart. Solid, rigid, and cold now, the once warm, liquid metal of Mister Orb-peror was gone… and as she cried at the loss of her friend, she… felt terrible, knowing that he had died. Knowing that she'd never meet him again… despite…
"The Emperor is always with us, Mable." She was told, the space marine misunderstanding her words… and as she looked up at the one who was still pretending that she was a Living Saint, Mable… saw the stranger who reflected in his red lenses.
A face which she could focus on, that had green veins so visible they nearly glowed, and eyes that shone with a bright pale illumination. Staring at her own image, Mable… would briefly look away as she internalized that not only was Mister Orb gone, but… she had been altered as he had saved her life, Mable… would just cry harder as the space marine knelt beside her… offering her his black-ceramite gauntlet to hold onto as she grieved.
As she was given a white frock to wear to what was essentially a hearing on whether she would be executed or not, Mable glanced at the strange interior of the building she was walking through… the quiet hallway being far too nice for them to be in Spire Lorthanx. Unable to tell if she was walking on a singular stone or if the builders had somehow managed to make the shining reflective white stone appear perfectly aligned, Mable tried to keep up with the one who escorted her through halls filled with paintings, flags, golden visages, and busts of unknown men and women. Eventually breaking the silence as she was escorted through the maze of glass and gold, Mable sniffed hard before speaking.
"Where are we, Brother Sindarion?"
"You are in the Planetary Governor's Mansion in Hisperia Prime Majoris. My brothers and I have been using it as our headquarters, after the planetary governor attempted to flee the planet and his shortly following execution."
"Oh." Mable whispered, never… having thought she would ever come to such a building. Only having heard that their planetary governor was a benevolent leader by the matrons of the temple, Mable fell silent as she was brought into a grand hallway where three other space marines clad in the black and white of the Black Templars waited for her in the middle of the chamber that had several large wooden doors concealing the rest of the mansion. Reacting immediately to her presence, their helmets immediately clicking to carry on an unheard conversation, Mable froze briefly as she saw bolters shift to be closer to her frame without truly aiming at her. Feeling several human eyes immediate judged her behind the ceramite helmets, Mable slowly descended the stairs that were built for regular humans, as she followed the giant Angel of Death.
"Come. Sword Brother Ulvos and Castellan Malcevisor wish to speak with you prior to the provisional government inquiry." She was told by Sindarion, and as she nodded, stepping behind the space marine whose frame did nothing to conceal her from his brothers that moved to keep her in a line of sight, Mable would hear a continued clicking in the helmets of the space marines. Wincing as the faint buzzing she had awoken with shifted into words, Mable quickly realized she was now able to hear the voices of the unknown angels that mocked her escort.
"Sindarion, you have fallen in love. Good for you, brother."
"As if his ice-heart has melted, brother Grovan. He is made of stone."
"Perhaps the chaplain will allow him to cross the Rubicon, as a reward for rediscovering his compassion for the alien."
"Should I be so lucky." Mable heard clearly… and as she smiled at the soft voice that she recognized from when she had been near death, her expression would be noticed by the one whose voice sounded different from the strangers, even with his vox-caster enabled. "What?"
"I was lucky to have met you, regardless of what comes next." Mable stated as she walked after the space marines that opened a pair of doors, who, hopefully taking her words as genuine, paused in reflection as he allowed her entry into a room filled with banners.
"Saint Mable." Mable would be heralded by Ulvos, whose helmet was at his side in a room of heraldry and flags with several unreadable names in what was likely a glorious script. Staring at her for a moment, perhaps not having seen her new form, the Sword Brother would turn to the taller 'Castellan' that dwarfed his subordinate by a full head. "Castellan Malcevisor, this is-"
"You call this xenophile 'saint' with a straight face, Ulvos?" The disgusted face of who she assumed was Malcevisor spat out. Hanging her head in shame as the doors were closed by Sindarion, who she noticed hesitated to take a final look at her before sealing her in alone with the two space marines, Mable… would inhale sharply at the immediate judgement she was faced with. "I am surprised you have not gunned her down immediately, let alone allow her to walk outside a stasis field. Do you have no shame, brother?"
"You have tasked me to defend this hive, castellan. The High Marshal, has tasked us to defend this hive, using any tools necessary."
"NOT FROM THE ENEMY, MAN." The taller, tabarded, and decorated space marine bellowed… and as she noticed a single stud above his brow, Mable… watched as the explosive rage turned into a simmer as Malcevisor's black eyes stared daggers into her. "You. What are you?"
"I… am Mable."
"You do not claim to be a saint." The Castellan pointed out, towering over her… and as she nodded, Ulvos would let out a sigh as the Castellan spoke. "Do you even know what you are?"
"N-" Mable started, but would get drowned out by the judging voice of the castellan.
"You are a heretic, working in league with a xeno relic of Necron origin. I recognized this immediately… and so did you, Ulvos. So, I must now ask, has the heresy of your creation spread to my crusade?"
"Castellan." Ulvos warned… speaking boldly, and unafraid despite being physically smaller than his apparent liege. "You make a grave implication. I have stayed faithful for the better part of four centuries. You are enraged, rightfully so, but have now crossed a line."
"I have crossed a line?" The man repeated, scoffing with an unspoken threat of violence.
"Yes." Ulvos refused to back down.
"You ally with a Necron agent… and you say I cross a line?"
"Dante, of the Blood Angels, allied with a Necron army to turn back the Great Devourer before. I do not see how this is different."
"You consider yourself equal to the Regent of Nihilus?" The Castellan asked… and as Mable continued to feel as if this was becoming a contest of something entirely unrelated to her, she would dare speak.
"Um."
Getting the attention of both men in that moment, she would speak a question she hadn't been able to ask Sindarion.
"If I may… what happened to the Five-Nine-Nine? If they're still in Spire Lorthanx, I'd… like to help, if that's alright."
Stared at for some time, Mable would watch as the castellan turned to face his subordinate, and then spoke an enraging, one-word question.
"Who?"
"The Cadians guarding the spire she appeared in." Ulvos stated, and then let out a breath, refreshing himself as he spoke to her. "They were evacuated, Mable. Most of the lower spires were abandoned, after the appearance of their larger beasts. Currently, the fight is happening at the borders of the middle-hive."
"W-what? Isn't that where… nearly all the civilians are?"
"Yes." The castellan stated, his tone shifting to a softer tone at the thought of the populace of the hive. "It is unfortunate, but that is where most of them will die."
"What?! My family is there!" Mable stated, or… more, hoped, aloud. Looking to Ulvos, having fought, and suffered this transition, Mable… looked down at herself, and spoke. "Please, Ulvos, I… I need to protect them. I can't… not after… not after everything that's happened to me. Please, let me fight with you still."
"Still?" The castellan mockingly spoke, and then insulted her. "You didn't fight with us. Your Necron device did… and now that you are without the thing's blades, you are nothing but a waste of space. You are a mutant. A heretic. The inquisition will have you killed… and once her trial is complete, we must speak of yours to come, Ulvos."
"I will submit myself to the marshal's judgement willingly, castellan." Ulvos stated with a snarl, and then pointed to her. "As she has done to ours. Unlike her, I will be allowed to fight and die for our people regardless of if I have done wrong. I just ask you give her the chance to do so as well."
Staring at the castellan, Ulvos would herald silence, and retrospective thought. As Mable looked to the back of the larger Black Templar who shifted to reflect upon the several banners that watched him, she would see a shift in the angered castellan's demeanor. Clearly letting out a breath, inhaling, and then letting out a sigh, the frustrated voice of Malcevisor would speak with what she felt was self-pity.
"I have not been a castellan long… and I am perhaps unqualified to stand beside these banners, but… to allow heresy to form so easily while I carry them? It upsets me greatly, brother… that you decided these things without my knowledge, and looked into the manner on your own – even diverting a brother from his glory when a bolter should have been used instead." The man painfully stated… and then, turning, would shift his helmet in his hands, and speak to her with clear eyes. "But what is done, is done, and you, child… you swear to the Emperor that you wish to give your life in his name?"
"Yes." Mable truthfully stated… and as she was stared at, she would gain an exhalation that was close to a scoff.
"Very well. Although it pains me to let the Tyranids do the work of stamping out heresy, it gives me equal pleasure to deny the Inquisition that the Imperial Regent so despises. Come, let us give those big-hatted bastards something to hoot and holler about." The castellan spoke with what sounded dangerously close to that of mirth… and in the moment he sealed his helmet, she would hear him silently laugh. Blinking at the sudden change of thought and emotion, unsure of what exactly he found so funny, Mable watched as Ulvos too donned his helmet. Unfurling a white tabard with a black cross centered on it, which Mable soon realized was for her to wear as it was unceremoniously draped over her head.
'Kill her.' Was the near immediate reaction she received as she stood in a jury of her hive city's masters. Looked down upon by the representatives and leaders of the city's more influential organizations, Mable stood beside Ulvos, and slightly behind the castellan that spoke through his helmet's vox-caster to those of the church, the inquisition, and the city's administrative departments.
"I shall allow the Tyranids to carry your judgement out."
"No!" A squirrely, 'big-hatted' man cried out, looking to be leatherier and more boot-like than Axel had been. Barely able to see the man's mouth move beyond the comically large brim that was supported by two metal 'I's mounted on his shoulders, the man from the 'Ordo Xenos' made his declaration. "Do it now, in front of us."
"No." The castellan stated bluntly.
"While your ruse, Castellan Malcevisor, was a humorous one…" Another big-hatted man slowly breathed, his hat being twice as tall as his head was large. Playing absent-mindedly with the holy aquila amulet that hung around his neck by golden chain, the member of the Ecclesiarchy spoke, his eyes briefly locking onto her own before darting away. "This has gone on enough, don't you think? In light of this dreadful age, one would think the Adeptus Astartes would seek to unify, rather than divide the forces who die in 'His' name."
"Unfortunately, bishop…" The castellan started, being reminded by his sword brother of the man's name.
"Farklan."
"Farklan?" The castellan repeated… and then turned to the bishop that had spoken, muttering under his breath about how stupid a name it was before finishing his thoughts. "Bishop Farklan, you are a guest in this room, and represent the ones who historically sow division via manipulation of the ignorant and faithful. Hisperia is about to fall to the endless swarm of the Great Devourer. We would be fools not to accept any aid, regardless of which alien hands offers it."
"Heresy!" The first man screamed in a shrill, terrible voice, but hardly moved to show his… in Mable's mind, performative agitation. Blinking as she thought for a moment at the image of what was apparently an inquisitor, Maple would look to Ulvos… and then whisper a question that had nothing to do with her hearing.
"Were you able to find Inquisitor Redmane?"
"What? What did she say?" The shrill-voiced man cried out again… and as Ulvos turned to the inquisitor briefly, before tilting towards her to get her to speak up, Mable would make her inquiry public.
"I asked if Sword Brother Ulvos had been able to locate Inquisitor Redmane, of the Ordo Chronos."
"What? Why?" The big-hatted boot of a man questioned, seeming genuinely curious of her, and not… treating her like some alien monstrosity, which he had been clear she was.
"She… knew of the artefact that made me like this." Mable stated, looking down at her hands with very green veins. "I had hoped she could have told me where he came from."
"Artefact?" The strategically quiet Administratum officer called out, having been silent… and then questioned her. "A device made you like this?"
"Yes." Mable stated. Looking at the man for a moment, who slowly averted his eyes in thought – the perhaps underqualified accountant being unable to judge her as he continued to support the other two in this hearing's judgement, Mable would let out a question that… she doubted she'd get the knowledge of. "Sir, if I may ask, do you know a Dorithi Furlow? I believe she is a Ration Administrator."
"Dorithi?" The man would ask, seeming confused by her words.
"Or a Marak? He was the Ration Administrator in my hive block… which… I realize now I do not know the name of. I was hoping that they had managed to find one another."
"Dorithi Furlow?" The inquisitor asked… his scroungy voice turning towards suspicion to the man on the jury. "Wasn't she the one who warned us of the cult, and had been investigated by my agents?"
"You… still hold her in the inquisitorial cells, sir." The Administratum official stated with no small hint of agitation.
"Hmm… yes." The man agreed, and as Mable felt confusion at that, he wordlessly moved back to her. "You are in league with that… curmudgeon?"
"Cur… curmudgeon?" Mable repeated, and then looked to Ulvos, who gave her a shrug as the man continued to insult the woman.
"Ingrate? Idiot? Boring accountant?"
"Sir…" Mable started… and then aired her confusion. "No. I'm not in league with her, I warned her when the uprising occurred of what was happening in the lower hive. It was… three days before my hive was filled with a neurotoxin."
"You survived the purge?" The inquisitor asked, seeming surprised… and as she looked at the one who knew of it, and spoke of it easily, Mable realized that she was likely staring at the one who had vented the entire block with the neurotoxin. "I will add that to the recorded resistances of you, when we catalog your body."
"N-no, I wasn't… I wasn't there when it was… did you imprison her after she warned you about the alien cult?!" Mable fumbled her explanation, the anger in her heart winning out over the need to defend herself as she spoke enraged. "She helped you and this city… and you imprisoned her?!"
"A reward that the inquisition is known to hand out freely." The castellan stated, his accusation made clearer. "If only she was the only innocent unjustly imprisoned or slain by the inquisition."
"That's very funny coming from a Black Templar." The man shrewdly stated, before adjusting his hat as he leaned backwards. "You claim you spoke with the administrator, during the invasion? Yet, I had thought you a time traveler from a different era."
"What?" Mable asked… and as she was spoken down to, it seemed Ulvos was the most uncomfortable.
"That 'Sword Brother' made rather cute inquiries to servitors being observed by the Inquisition. He looked you up, prior to our knowledge of you… and then discovered that there were only a few 'Cadet Mable's that have ever existed in recorded history. One, reporting the theft of a pistol prior to her disappearance nearly five standard centuries ago… which I have been alerted to is the very pistol that you used in your last combat… lest its serial number be incorrect, that is."
"Then… you know." Mable stated… and as she looked at her hands… she would speak up. "Were there any other reports about me?"
"And why would that matter?" The inquisitor questioned immediately, as if he had been expecting it.
"Because, if I am going to be remembered, it's because of this moment." Mable stated… and because it would mean she still had the ability to go back in time. "So, did I make any other appearances?"
Silence.
A long, thoughtful, silence.
"Not under your name." The man enunciated each and every word… there being a dual implication that she had never gone back again, as well as going back without being remembered as who she was. Blinking at the dual statement, Mable watched as the brim of the hat was reoriented slightly by its wearer. Obscuring his face further to hide her from him… or perhaps him from her, Mable would slowly tilt her head, trying to look beyond the hat to the man whose fingers laced before his face.
"Have we met before?" She asked.
"That would make the inquisitor older than I am, Mable." Ulvos stated… and as she looked to the space marine that had looked youthful despite apparently serving for nearly four-hundred years, Mable… would doubt that a regular human could persist for as long. Looking as a woman in black power armor – one of the Sisters of Battle – quietly walked around the proceeding and stepped up to whisper in the bishop's ear, Mable would, along with those watching the interruption, be somewhat surprised by the sudden demand the man made.
"Put on the docket that we have decided to kill this heretic-xenophile. Then, execute her, Black Templar." The bishop ordered suddenly, perhaps tired of what he was participating in… and then, standing from his chair, the man would all but spit out his contempt for her. "Die well, false saint. Perhaps your immortal soul can be saved still."
Not saying anything to what was likely the best well-wishing she'd get from her recorded judgement, Mable would watch the administrator stand alongside the adjourning meeting… glance to the inquisitor, and then back to her.
"Marak lived… if you knew him. If we somehow win, Dorithi has been promised release… but since she's still a 'potential threat,' the inquisition has decided to keep custody until the aliens are expunged from our city."
"Thank you, sir." Mable stated… and, getting a nod, she would watch the Administratum representative leave the chamber the same way as the bishop. With just the inquisitor remaining seated… Mable would get a scoff, and then a statement about her earlier question, which the man waited for the room to clear out slightly, before speaking of.
"Inquisitor Redmane went missing, around the same time as your recorded theft. She was indeed a member of the Ordo Chronos, and went missing in a stupid interior conflict based around the imperial calendar, which I am ashamed to say still goes on to this day. Prior to that, she was being investigated by the Ordo Xenos and Ordo Hereticus for her blatant theft of xeno and chaos artefacts said to be world-destroying, which it seems you have found one of, out of the several thought to be here on Hisperia. Although I should have died with those secrets, I suppose it does not matter that I shared them with you, one who is about to die as well."
"You wouldn't happen to remember where she was last seen, would you?" Mable asked… and as she felt the man smile, he would speak bluntly.
"From the table of an Ordo Malleus interrogator, who had been given the task of investigating her mind for the secrets that the Inquisition was wanting found. I've forgotten the location, but I'm sure Ulvos has dug it up by now, judging by his reaction."
Blinking at the space marine that shifted ever so slightly, Mable would turn to the Angel of Death who she had originally given the name of Inquisitor Redmane… and then feel a sense of urgency as the inquisitor silently stood up, and then wordlessly left the chamber.
Blinking at the man's quiet disappearance, Mable would turn to the castellan who immediately addressed them both.
"What the fuck was that?"
"Brother, are you sure about this?" A battle-brother stated long after they had left the governor's mansion, expecting privacy over their vox-channel. Sitting between the standing Ulvos and Sindarion while locked into the Thunderhawk transport's massive side-chairs, both Angels standing tall and without a care as the interior shook from air turbulence – as well as dodging aerial ordinance. Praying as she flew for the first time conscious, as she had apparently been carried to the governor's mansion in one of these ships, Mable would keep her eyes shut and hope that the Orb understood what it was making her suffer through. "We are defying the orders of our castellan by taking this creature aside from the front line."
"Silence, Brother Markos. We are pursuing a lead that may save this planet, and if you have not been paying attention, half the city is considered the 'front lines.'" Ulvos stated without activating his vox, clearly not wanting to stress her further with conversation about her as she strained against the safety belts.
"Of an already fallen spire, brother." Brother Markos stated… and as she opened her eyes to stare out the open door that they could have closed for this transportation, Mable would look to the squad of ten space marines that were wearing jetpacks… while all she was wearing were black clothes they had managed to find in her size from the governor's personal apartments.
"Jump in one minute, brothers." The voice of pilot spoke, and then stated his concern. "Gargoyle elements are in the area. Landing zone seems clear for now, but may be challenged the moment you land!"
"Understood, brother." Ulvos stated… and then moved towards her, speaking through his vox – unaware that his voice was unchanged in her perception. "Saint Mable, we descend in one minute. Who do you wish to carry you?"
"Sindarion has the most experience!" Mable shouted over the air, surprised she didn't need a mask anymore after stepping out of the environmentally sealed governor's mansion.
"What is that supposed to mean, brother?" Markos asked, perhaps as a joke as she recognized his voice as one who had watched her in the mansion. Answering perhaps too hastily as she fumbled the belt latch that secured her to the seat that really didn't need to be so damned big either, Mable would gain the attention of the entire squad directed at her.
"It means he carried me into combat before! What? Why are you looking at me?"
"Mable… you can hear us? Now?" Ulvos asked her… and as she paused, realizing that the vox hadn't been properly utilized by Markos, Mable would hesitantly continue to unfasten herself.
"Uh… w-why are you looking at me?" She repeated, the red lenses of the Astartes silently shifting to one another as she continued to play dumb. Watching the giants awkwardly look at one another, unsure what to do now that they knew their secret speaking channel had been breached, Mable would mutter an apology as the pilot called to his brothers.
"Twenty seconds. I will circle for as long as I can. Stay in contact."
"Confirmed, brother." Ulvos stated, and then ripped out the release mechanism of her seat as she was helped up. "Sindarion, your charge."
"Yes, brother." The man quietly stated… and as he lifted her back into the cradle she had fought the Trygon in, Mable would feel a great hesitation as they prepared to jump from an even greater height towards a spire's balcony.
Having thought the destructive capabilities of the Adeptus Astartes were enough with one of them present, Mable was surprised at the destructive efficiency when ten descended into the darkness of an 'abandoned' spire. Slaying what had to be hundreds of the Tyranids in minutes without hesitating in a single step, fire and bolter would purify the Hormagaunt and Termagant aliens in a baptism of blood and flame – and when a Tyranid Warrior dared to challenge them, it would be cut down with practiced skill from chainblade, power sword, or power fist as the Black Templars strode ever forward.
Not expected to fight in this moment, Mable would stay behind Ulvos or Sindarion, the two fighting in easy unison as they took turns taking the front of the space marine formation. Moving from hallway to broken room, seeming to know exactly where they were going as they utilized grenades, or broke through rockcrete walls by physically pushing themselves through the damaged structure, all Mable could do was just try to keep up with those that demolished the structure as easily as they slew the alien. Able to seemingly predict when raveners would arrive and dispatch them with ease, and having their flamethrowers spray at seemingly empty corridors only to catch what were known as 'Lictors' ablaze who tried to ambush them, Mable greatly appreciated the fact that these warriors were on the side of the Emperor.
Then coming to a seemingly empty series of rooms, Mable would blink as Ulvos spoke over the vox.
"We are here. This was the inquisitional interrogation chamber, and that is where we believed Redmane to have gone missing. Find her… and if you can bring her back, do so. If not, get the location of the other artefacts, and maybe we'll have an actual fighting chance against the Tyranids." The Black Templar ordered… and as she nodded at the Sword Brother… she would scratch her head as she… wondered how.
Standing in place… closing her eyes… and then emptying her lungs with a slow sigh, she would hold her hands out… and then open her eyes meaningfully…
Expecting a change.
Expecting anything to happen.
Fuck.
It hadn't worked, Mable embarrassingly thought. Scratching her nose for a moment as the Black Templars continued to hold a perimeter through the sounds of sporadic shooting and alien screams, Mable turned to the people spectating her… and then slightly change positions to show she wasn't just standing around. Trying to imagine any furniture she could be running into, Mable would keep her eyes closed… and, moving her hands over things that didn't exist in the entirely abandoned and empty room, Mable would be questioned by Sindarion.
"What is taking so long?"
"Hey! It's not like he gave me a fucking field manual, asshole!" Mable yelled in anger at the interruption, turning on the spectator. "You got years to learn how to be a space marine! I've had three hours to become a heretic!"
"Alright, we'll leave you to it." Ulvos huffed, pulling his battle brother from the room… and as she gained solitude… Mable would realize the pale light that was illuminating her surroundings had not been from the chest-mounted illuminators on her escorts' power armor, but from her very self. Not liking the fact that she was generating light on her own, Mable would slowly take a knee and pray… to something that wasn't the Emperor of Mankind.
"Look… Mister Orb-peror inside of me… I don't know what I'm doing here. You did all the hard work, and you… didn't give me a way of…"
She sensed something. Something faint.
Something she hadn't been looking for, because she couldn't see it with her eyes, but felt it in the buzzing that continued to be interrupted with every bolter shell fired outside of the room she was protected within.
She needed to feel it, Mable realized as she breathed out again… and, feeling… something off, she would hear… faintly, humming noise, beyond the room.
A low-pitched, slowed down, hum… as if it were a singular reverberation. Like a tremor, Mable… would close her eyes, and see this noise as though it were… a white light. A net?
A fabric.
The very fabric of reality, able to be molded, and morphed. Twisting it back, hearing the universal reverberation that connected existence between time, Mable… felt time slowly be peeled back, prior to her entrance in it.
Prior to the arrival of the Tyranids.
Prior to her existence, and…
When she sensed there was a table in front of her, and two people on and near it, she would let go of the fabric.
Blinking, opening her eyes, and turning her head to the man wearing a mask, holding a circular saw over a woman who was stripped of everything except a hat with a massive metal 'I' on its middle part, Mable questioned the pair who were either breaking some kind of moral law against the Emperor, or were going through a very strange interrogation.
"Uh. Hi. Is one of you Inquisitor Redmane?"
"Me." The older woman on the table immediately groaned out, and as the person standing with a circular saw lunged for her, Mable would instinctively kick out, leaning away from the weaponized tool that came for her face. Groaning in pain as the man flew from her with a disproportional amount of force after taking the kick, Mable grabbed her thigh in pain as her muscles flared… before speaking through the muscular agony as she sensed an alarm go off somewhere.
"Priam sent me."
"What?" The woman painfully asked in confusion, shifting awkwardly on the table, and showing she had been bound by the wrist to the legs of the surface. Apparently having worked out of one of the straps on her own, the woman would be assisted as Mable moved to her wrist, and easily pulled the other arm free… before moving to the fallen man and looking at his face. Unsure if it was the same one as the inquisitor who had ordered her death, Mable would open the door, check the hallway, and then toss the unconscious man out of the room as the naked woman adjusted her hat, but otherwise seemed content to be naked. "Priam? The researcher?"
"Yeah, he's kind of dead now, but he told me to meet with you if I could."
"When?" The woman asked, and as she considered the statement, Mable would decide that it didn't matter.
"It doesn't matter. Look, I'm from the future, and I've got a hell of a story to tell, but currently we need to get you out of here."
"Okay." The woman instantly agreed, and as she placed her hands on her hips, Mable would blink at the woman who was just blindly trusting her. "What's the plan?"
"Uh, I'm going to send us around five-hundred years into the future, when Hisperia is under attack by Tyranids. A squad of Black Templars will be waiting for us."
"Oh." The woman stated… and then frowned at her rather than taking what she said as a joke. "Wow, okay, hate when that happens. But… hang on, actually."
"Okay." Mable stated, unsure how exactly she was going to get them both to the future anyways. Closing her eyes and trying to catch the feeling that had sent her backwards in time, Mable would watch as the woman opened the door, began to strip the unconscious interrogator, and prepare to kill him as she powered on the circular saw – which Mable quickly shouted at to stop. "Wait! Wait, wait, don't kill him!"
"What? Why not?"
"Because, he may be the one who sent me here to save you."
Pausing… considering the implication of murdering someone who was now a… probable person in the future who knew about this whole situation, Mable would watch as the woman let out a sigh, and then began to put on the man's clothes. Wondering if the woman was considering killing the man anyways, Mable let out a sigh of relief as she was rejoined. Redmane, hopping onto her back the moment the door was closed, would make Mable feel exceptionally strange as the woman aired her order.
"Onwards, my noble steed! To the future!"
Pausing… and then just nodding her head, Mable closed her eyes… and feel the distracting breath of the woman on her neck, and just… pause, feeling greatly uncomfortable as the woman pestered her.
"Any minute now."
"Shut the fuck up!" Mable bellowed, and tried to once more feel the fabric of reality. Looking now for a high-pitched note that reverberated in the universe, Mable would close her eyes… and pray again. "Orb-peror, hey there, me again… if you could do the…"
There it was, Mable saw… the blinding white light being fast moving, heading towards the darkness. Grabbing hold of it, and then beginning to pull herself forward, Mable would be greatly distracted as the telepathic voice of the woman repeated a word she said, distracting her from the process of time traveling.
"Orb-peror?"