Walking through the small outpost, closing the valve that her small oxygen tank was still running to the helmet she carried, Mable would step inside the first of three chambers. Blinking at the simple room that had small necessities, such as frozen food dated over a thousand years prior and bottled water that had gone green, as well as a heater that thankfully functioned as she entered, Mable would hold up a hand as lighting automatically came on… without a single skull in sight.

Finding a living quarters with a large bedframe, a toilet, as well as a set of weights for exercises out in the lower gravity of the moon, Mable glanced to the final room, that had a humming generator that was emitting a green light, and a fancy-looking logic engine that was set up on a desk.

"Please press the button at the top of the computer." The voice of someone who sounded important politely ordered… and as she did so, Mable saw a series of lights flash on. Waiting for the logic engine's screen begin to shimmer – which prompted the next recorded prompt – Mable would quietly sit and listen to the voice before moving on. "As I said earlier. My name is Constantin Valdor. Captain-General of the Legio Custodes. This station was created to store useful information regarding the creation of the Empire of Mankind, as well as provide a contingency should other records be lost. Within the lower drawer of this desk, you shall find protected hard-drives that contain the content and context for what occurred in the years between the Age of Strife, and the Great Crusade. Please, type your name into the computer to be registered."

Finding the five letters she used to write her name, Mable would stare at the logic engine… waiting for-

"Please press the Enter key."

Ohp.

There.

"You have identified yourself as 'Mable.'" The voice stated, before distorting at the pronunciation of her name… and as she heard something shift within the logic engine, or scratch within the recording device sending these voiced messages, Mable felt that the words that were spoken next, were specifically designed for her.

"Hello, Mable. I am Constantin Valdor, the Emperor's Shield, bodyguard, and loyal servant. Although the Emperor received your message, it was not until long after it was of any use to us, did we piece together it's meaning. Currently the Emperor has been interred upon the Golden Throne upon his request and with the help of his son, Rogal Dorn. Although the Emperor was a great man, and a wise ruler, he was still very much human, and was capable of error." The voice stated… and as the speaker paused, Mable would nod her head in understanding to the person who had once… perhaps lived here, to record this message for her. "I do not know what the future holds for those here on this planet, and I, like many others, have been tasked to ensure the survival of mankind. The Emperor, close to the end, had tasked me to see to several projects, one of them being the Solace of Hisperia."

Mable watched as the screen shifted, and moved to… what appeared to be several blue-prints. Blinking at the images that moved on their own, transitioning again and again until, at last, it ended on one image.

"The Solace of Hisperia was designed to protect an entire planet from mass psychic assault by warp entities, as well as provide a shield against any warp storms that manifested in real-space. The Emperor hoped that, if successful, it's machinations could be replicated on every imperial world, and allow its populace to exist without fear of the creatures now more popularly known as 'Daemons.' Although the device was never completed for planetary use, the test model is still on Hisperia as of this recording. I intend, in five thousand years, to return here and reobtain it. Should you truly be able to travel throughout time, then that should be more than enough of a gap for you to claim it for yourself, and make use of it." The voice spoke… and as she blinked at the map that was suddenly illuminated in the screen, she would look for the data-pad in her satchel… but stop, as Valdor's voice once again spoke. "Below this chair is a metal panel. Lift it, and you shall find a geo-locator that will lead you to the device on the planet, as well as a hard-drive that has a copy of the blue prints I have shown you. Whatever you do, do not give it to the Adeptus Mechanicus. They will undoubtedly find some way to weaponize it to kill all humanity and replace all life in the galaxy with machines. Although I should destroy it, I do not expect anyone aside from you to come here in the next five thousand years, and by then, I would have removed it myself… so, if you do remove it, that will also prove to me that you are real."

"Huh." Mable whispered… realizing that the games people had to play when it came to communicating with time travelers had to have long periods of time between them. Nodding to herself, but wondering how such a device could be weaponized, especially if it was designed to prevent daemons from killing people, Mable… frowned, as the screen went blank.

Standing up, running her fingers over the flooring until she found a tiny bit of fraction to lift it up, Mable would look down and find everything as it had been described. Putting the hard-drive in her satchel, as well as the fancy data-pad that she had seen the stranger on Hisperia use, Mable felt somewhat more powerful… but doubly so as she found the golden handle of a bladeless sword. Blinking for a moment, and then flinching heavily as she looked up to where the voice was coming from, Mable ultimately settled on confusion as she was directly called on.

"Mable! You're real – or there is a very competent servitor with a lucky scavenger who has discovered this information vault. I wish you luck, and perhaps one day, we shall meet in the far future from when this recording occurred! Although I cannot return you the strange xeno-spear, which now rests within the Imperial Vault on Terra with the message you wrote on the oxygen tank, I have left you a weapon that should prove its match. Please, impale your hand on its bottom spike."

Wondering… what that meant, Mable would flip the handle that reminded her of the power-sword Sindarion had found… and as she briefly fought the void-suit attached to her skin, she would hear Valdor's next message prior to actually completing the task he had given her.

"Ha! Interesting, right? I'm sure this is a wonder to one such as you, but it should burn any alien that dares to attack humanity – regardless of the age it was found. Mable, I know not technology allowed you to reach us, but you have given us hope that what we do now had led to the survival humanity. Remember – the only thing that can break our spirits is ourselves! You are but one of many who walk the grand road of existence, and although the weight we each carry is of different scales, and the challenges we face always seems overwhelming – so long as you believe in yourself and those around you, victory can always be accomplished. Good luck, Mable. Although you never met him, the Emperor knew your name – and you shall leave many mysteries that shall inspire future generations before, and after you."

The recording ended… and although she still hadn't placed her hand on the small spiked pommel of the golden hilt… Mable would look up towards the hidden speaker… and, trying not to cry as her struggle was recognized from across time – the encouragement that came had made her feel this trip, and all the suffering she had gone through was worth it.

Removing her suit, and freeing her hand, Mable placed her palm on the spike that drew from her blood… and as she raised the handle upwards… she felt a warmth in her heart as she saw the gift given to her in exchange for the xeno artefact.

"Do you see that, Mister Orb?"

Taking the Night Shroud down to Hisperia immediately – it being much easier entering the planet than leaving it – Mable would be spotted by what appeared to be some kind of Valkyrie transport as she broke through the clouds. Immediately warning her of what was likely the ship's weapons, the glyphs continued to beep and create an annoying hum to bring attention to the fact this ship was coming straight towards her, undoubtedly trying to get a better look at her. Trying to will the ship upwards into the clouds of Hisperia where she could hide and reorient, Mable would waste several hours trying not to get shot down – the Night Shroud's engines being apparently far superior to the man-made engines that eventually forced the vessel away to refuel.

Waiting until nightfall, Mable shifted the vessel from cloud cover over where her data-pad was telling her to be. Slowly lowering herself towards the empty earth, Mable willed the Night Shroud not to crash as she shook in the seat.

The ship, however, had ideas of its own as it bounced into the earth, rather than slowly coming to a stop. Bouncing, nearly breaking the safety belt she was glad had been installed, Mable groaned in pain as she came to a stop… and as she looked at the glyphs undoubtedly telling her of their crash – as if it was mocking her – Mable slapped the machine that had traversed time with her.

"Don't think you're done, asshole. No one ever reported finding you, so that means you're stuck with me yet, you piece of shit." Mable muttered to the machine that continued to beep even as she pushed the entombing atmospheric sealing top off the vehicle. Done hurling abuse at the machine that likely couldn't understand her, Mable would let out a groan of pain as she breathed in the air of old Hisperia… and, glancing to her data-pad, watched the navigation icon begin to shrink.

Showing her exactly where she had to go, Mable kissed the skull-less data-pad that was far superior to the old one she had used the day before.

Stopping at a rock nearly three kilometers away from her crash-site, Mable looked around for a secret switch, lever, or doorway to enter the secret installation that the data-pad said she had reached. Kicking rocks around, Mable grew tired of her search, and, beginning the process of rewinding time, she began to pull back the weave until she could feel people in a general area… and, when she realized she was standing nearly on top of people who were once here in the past, she would return to where she currently existed and stepped into their place.

Hearing an immediate beeping, Mable let out a hoot of a cheer as the ground elevated itself on two pistons – creating a trap door of steel and earth as she approached. Finding a ladder built for a person slightly larger than an Astarte, Mable descended into the darkness, the light of her radiation revealing the chute she was in was made of metal… and stretched far further into the earth than she had originally had hoped.

Having sung with the faint ringing she was hearing ever since she had crashed, Mable finally reached the bottom after descending… a few hundred meters, she wanted to say. Having very tired legs and arms, and hoping that there was some kind of ascending mechanism as she walked past a wall-mounted servitor, Mable would reach a door that was emitting a red light without a skull attached to it. Really, really glad that such things could exist, Mable moved her data-pad into the red light's vision… and…

Nothing happened.

Frowning, Mable looked around the light and found a small console that reminded her of the armory Sindarion had easily broken into. Doubting she could just pry open the console and get instant access, Mable began to press buttons, hoping to have the device scan something of hers so she could be let in.

Remembering something about security being weaker in the past than it was in the time she was familiar with, and now appreciating the fact that a servitor could usually be spoken with to varying effects, Mable decided that force was the way to go. Prying open the panel, messing with some of the wiring, and then turning to the door expectantly, Mable… let out a sigh as nothing happened… and then felt a growing rage at the fact her attempt to save the planet was going to be stopped by a single door.

Not wanting to use the sword that Valdor had gifted her, Mable instead tried to do the next best thing – rewind time when the hallway existed, but the door had yet to be installed. Rolling back two thousand years, sensing people for a moment before they left, Mable felt out the absence of a door, and then unfurled the weave. Now in a different time, Mable quickly looked around if there were any witnesses, found none, and then stepped into a room currently under construction.

Then, finding the high-whir of reality, Mable grabbed hold and sent herself forward in time, trying to get close to the same date she had originally descended. Knowing she was off by a few centuries, but not needing to care when she had such a large window between when she got the message, and when Valdor promised to abscond with the device, Mable opened her eyes, looked behind her at the door that was still very much in place, and walked into the room.

Security meaning nothing when one could enter a building before it was even properly built, and then fast forward when there were things of value to steal, Mable wondered to herself how great of a thief she'd be – but as she began to explore the small maze of chambers that had been abandoned, the smell of something… gross, would catch her nostrils.

"Come on… let me out." She heard a terribly whiny voice cry, and as she entered a small room with several logic engines and weird circuitry, the voice would react to the light. "Oh! A light source! Human, human come quick! I am in a mighty need! Please, I beg of you!"

Blinking as she stared at what was clearly some kind of daemon from hell in a glass tube – Mable felt an immediate sense of disgust as she looked at the many horned, red-skinned, semi-haired, fanged, and black-eyed entity that beat against the glass. Looking truly unique as its sticky claws created a red slime that oozed from its glass prison, the creature would let out a laugh as she held up her bladeless sword-hilt… unsure if the monster was properly contained.

"Human! Wait, please, I beg of you! Tell me, what year is it?!"

"That's a great question." Mable stated, refusing to answer as she looked around if she was in an ambush.

"Oh, come on!" The hissing monster whined, showing off its cloven feet as it danced in its container, trying to force its way out to get to her. "Valdor said he'd let me out! This isn't fair! I've been fucking purified already! See?! No Khorne in my blood! Look at this weak-watered-ichor! Let me go! I promise I won't kill anyone! I can't even summon my hell-blade! The Blinding One said the ring had worked! I'm harmless! See? Please, let me go!"

"My mother didn't raise an idiot." Mable warned the daemon who wept steaming tears of blood. Looking around for a moment, needing to find the device, Mable questioned the entity that Valdor… either forgot, or chose not to deal with. "Where is the Solace of Hisperia?"

"The what?" The daemon questioned her, and then let out a howl of a groan as it took a seat in its tubular prison. "Oh, come on. You think they told me anything?! I'm pathetic! I'm a pawn! I'm a pawn of a pawn, a fragment of a fraction of fractal of a dream of wrath! I'm-"

"Do you know where the device is or not?"

"Fuck you!" The daemon cried… and as she stared at the sulking creature that turned away from her, falling silent as it curled into a ball… Mable knew that this was all an act trying to gain sympathy from her. Beginning her search, Mable would glance to the data-pad that had brought her here… and begin to mess with the buttons, wondering if Valdor had put a picture of the proto-type he had spoken of somewhere. Hearing the creature sniff the tube's contents for a time, Mable began her search at the currently unpowered logic engines that… attracted the daemon's attention. "What… what are you? You smell more like those… metal things, than human."

"Good to know." Mable muttered to herself… and as she looked around the table for any rotten notes or things to insert into the data-pad, she would question the one who wanted a time frame. "Why do you want to know what year it is?"

"I have been trapped in here without a way of passing the time. I have felt my mind unravel. I am a being that exists in moments." The creature whined, slapping the glass pathetically. "Yet I am here, trapped. Forever and forever. You know not what such an existence is like."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Mable breathed… and as she gave up on this room of the facility that was without power, she would turn to the Daemon that pleaded with her.

"Please… I will do whatever you ask, just let me out. Kill me if you want! Use that thing, that smells of the Blinding One. Smite me down, and send me to the warp! Just let me be free of this prison!"

Staring at the pathetic entity that begged her so blatantly… Mable sighed, unable to believe she was making a deal with a daemon.

"Do you know what the Solace of Hisperia is?"

"I don't, but I can take a guess."

"Guess then."

"It is a machine that disperses or contains warp energies. The Blinding One wished to use it to enslave, or 'purify' entities like I. Whether we are manifested, possessing mortals, or imbued within a world, we are undone."

"Then why are you here, manifested?"

"Because Valdor is a piece of shit and won't activate the damned kill button! Kill me!" The creature screamed, raging against the glass that was seemingly unbreakable to the entity. "Kill me!"

"Do you know where that device is?"

"Maybe." The creature stated, not wanting to give anything for free.

"Alright, I guess I'll go find it myself and leave you here for another five-thousand years."

"F-five thousand?! Are you kidding me?! LET ME OUT! HUMAN, PLEASE! I WILL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING!"

Stopping her exit from the room, Mable would glance back to the red entity… that seemed to swallow at its own promise.

"What do you mean?"

"M-my service. I will bind myself to…" The creature trailed off in disgust… and then internalizing a pain. Groaning out as though it were being tortured, the creature gave her its revised offer. "I will provide assistance upon request."

"You… want to enslave yourself to me?"

"No! But I will, if it means I can leave this damned prison!"

"Uh… look, I might be a xeno-hybrid, but I don't think I'm stupid enough to sell my soul." Mable stated… and as she saw the creature sigh, she would be given a deal.

"I'll give you my full name then! Bind me into an item, and I will be your slave until it shatters! I would prefer a prison that moves than a prison that is trapped forever in a dark hole! Come on! Don't you want to be one of the cool kids who wields daemons against other daemons?!"

"You'd… really go that far. And you really think I'd believe you?" Mable asked, not needing to be taught by nuns to be warned of the temptation and allure of darkness.

"I cannot tell a lie!" The daemon cried, weeping tears of ash he smudged the glass with now. "The Blinding One made it so!"

"Yeah, okay." Mable scoffed sarcastically, doubting such a thing could be made so. "Tell me a truth then."

"I… am not… that… uh… that kind of daemon."

"What kind of daemon are you?"

"I hit stuff?" The creature asked… and then shrugged. "I used to be good at… dying? Sometimes I'd ride this Juggernaut. Do you know… do you know about… Juggernauts? It like… it's made of metal, and is shaped like a bull?"

"I don't know what a bull is."

"Oh! That's a secret I can tell you then! It's a four-legged beast made of brass and has fangs. It bites, and bleeds fire." The daemon told her happily… and as she stared at the creature that nodded to itself, she would watch it slap the glass pathetically again. "Come on! I'm a spawn of war and killing! What kind of prophet could I possibly be used for?! Warning of war?! What, you can't use your fucking eyes? Look, if you want me to be a prophet of war, put me in a goddamned telescope and I'll show you that, yep, there's a war over there!"

"Alright, I'll pass on that." Mable stated… the creature whining and then giving a new option.

"Oh, I know! A weapon! Then we both can get what we want, right? I'm a Daemon of war after all! If I'm going to be imprisoned, use me to kill! I swear, I won't complain!"

"I've already got a weapon." Mable stated… and as the Daemon did what she could only consider was an eye-roll, she was given another opportunity.

"Armor then! Wear me into battle-"

"I'm thirteen-year-old girl. You want to be an outfit an adult couldn't wear after I die?"

"Alright, well… fuck." The creature stated, and although she found the desperation quite humorous, she would refuse on principle to laugh at the pathetic nature of the entity. "Uh… alright, well… I don't know!"

"A weapon or a piece of armor is the best your imagination can go?"

"Fuck, what do you want me to say?! I can't lie! I mean, you could make me into a shield, or… a cloak, maybe? The whole point of my existence is to be a blunt object that can't refuse being commanded! If you don't order me to protect you, I can't – and who in their right mind wants a daemon defending them?! If I was armor, I'd have no choice because an enemy would have to literally go through me to get to you – and if I was a sword, or an axe, you could just use me regardless of if I want to kill – which I never wouldn't want to kill – but you get my point!" The daemon desperately explained… and as she thought about the last of her ensemble to become a Living Saint, she would frown… and guess she did need some protection before going into battle against the Tyranids if the liquid metal wasn't going to acting in her defense. Seeming to sense her thought in some way, the daemon before her would begin to show excitement at the thought of being free… or at least, in a different prison. "Oh… I sense you thinking. You've come up with a good idea, haven't you?"

"I want a halo." Mable stated… and as the daemon blinked at her, she would be questioned by the gravel-like voice.

"What?"

"I want you to be a halo. Make a little… I don't know, warp… shield. Or something, around me."

"I mean… I guess? Just… a halo? I mean, I'm not going to lie – because I can't – I… can't really see that being much use… you know, down the line. After… you die."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. If a Daemon is bound… it's expected to be for like… ever? Practically? I mean time means nothing to us, since… you know, we're daemons and everything and we-"

"Exist in moments?" Mable repeated for the daemon.

"Y-yeah… are you a psyker? Did you just read my thoughts?"

"You don't have brain, do you?" Mable asked… and as the daemon stared at her… it would suddenly look away.

"Do I?"

"Alright, so… halo then?"

"I mean… I guess? You'll have to like, remind me to protect you… because I might, uh, forget every now and then. Are… are you sure I can't sell you on 'shield?' I'd make a fine shield." The creature began to bargain as Mable walked off, looking for a piece of metal to bind the daemon inside of as she declared her intent.

"I want my other hand free. I might need to shoot something."

"Oh, what the hell is that? Come on, you couldn't have done better?" Mable was asked, the circuits she had stripped of their cabling looking fine to her. Having coiled like, fifty wires around her forehead, Mable looked at the creature that pressed its horned face to the glass.

"Give me your name."

"I… I mean… like, couldn't you make some horns before-"

"Give me your name, or get locked in here forever."

"Alright, alright. It's Shoshchiroilhl."

"Shosh…chi…roil…hill?"

"Yeah, but all one word." The daemon nodded.

"Shoshchiroilhl." Mable repeated, and watched as the daemon began to scream in pain, writhe against the tube, and had a name glow upon its chest in silverish-golden light. Blinking as she watched the Daemon howl and rage against the glass that contained it, Mable took a hesitant step backwards and readied the weapon that had been left for her… and after a moment, watched as the Daemon nodded to itself several times as it let out a pathetic low wail. Looking at what… appeared to be her own name written on the creature's chest, Mable stared at the creature who let out a painful groan.

"Alright… well that was humiliating. Can you put me in the stupid crown now?"

"It's a halo. You're going to make it float."

"G-got it." Shoshchiroilhl breathed out, standing up and placing a hand on the glass."Make it float. Create a warp field to protect you. Understood. Just… fucking seal me away, Mable. Get me the hell out of here."

Never having given the daemon her name, Mable was unsure exactly what to do next… but pushing the halo against the glass, she would watch as the halo was beginning to glow with a reddish-hue… and that the daemon was beginning to dissolve from the glass.

"Oh, and shut up when I tell you to." Mable stated as an afterthought, getting laughed at by the daemon that knew she had forgotten something.

"Too late, bitch."

Dropping the halo as it began to burn her hand, Mable would grit her teeth as she shook the pain away. Letting out a sigh as she watched the wires begin to melt, and weld together with what appeared to be red electricity, Mable checked to see if her hand was damaged at all… but as she watched the silvery metal shift from her palm back to her knuckles, she… wondered if Mister Orb was still with her in a way, and was protecting her too. Hoping she didn't just create the most useless demonic item in the entire galaxy, she would let out a breath… and touch the wires that had formed into an eight-pronged crown… that, after she touched it, began to hover.

"Hang on, I'm still redesigning it." Mable heard in her ear… and as she looked up towards the glass prison… she would see a strange glowing band she hadn't noticed while looking at the daemon on its top. Blinking at the device that was emitting a prismatic light through a tiny bulb, Mable quickly questioned the daemon.

"Shoshchiroilhl, answer me, what is that?"

"Uh, that's the thing Valdor and the Blinding One put on the containment unit to keep me imprisoned. Something about blocking my ability to access the warp and leave."

"You… absolute dumb-fuck." Mable told the daemon that had gotten itself bound for no reason. Shifting a table so she could clamber onto the glass prison, Mable grabbed the ring-shaped device, the clasping band still emitting the prismatic light as she played with the metallic, but elastic material. "Can you use your powers while I'm holding this?"

"Uh… let me check." The halo stated, needing help to hover until it was above her head. Eventually putting it above herself, Mable would jump down from the table after wrapping the metallic band around her arm. "Give me a command."

"Shoshchiroilhl, protect me." Mable stated… and as she watched a light red barrier appear around her, she would watch it flicker out nearly immediately. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Run into that wall real quick."

"Uh… okay?"

Mable discovered she was a gullible idiot as the barrier did not remain, and she slammed her shoulder against a steel wall for no reason. Cursing in pain, but quickly shrugging it off, Mable listened to the daemonic laughter in her ears.

"Ha-ha-ha! This is gonna' be fun."

"I can't wait to tell your name to every inquisitor I know. They're going to fucking interrogate you, and torture you, and make you wish you weren't an idiot for being useless."

"Alright, alright. I don't know what an inquisitor is, but… I wasn't able to hold it. Normally, daemon weapons have cool names that are invoked… so, I don't know, give me a cool name to impress people with. I'll feel more motivated."

"Uh… how about Hell-Spawn?"

"Nah, that's overused."

"Uh… the Betrayer?"

"Is it really betrayal if you're stupid enough to trust a daemon?"

"How about… Blade Breaker?"

"Okay… okay… we can work with that." The daemon seemed to be pleased. "Blade Breaker. Uh… we gotta' get eight, though. Uh… Blade is five, Breaker is… seven? How many letters are in 'breaker?'"

"Does it have to be eight letters?" Mable asked, the workshop process going to be a thing it seemed. Deciding it was better to head up the ladder now and talk while searching for the Night Shroud through time and space, as she didn't know when she left it, Mable would… honestly not feel too bad as the daemon kept her company.

"Yeah, it's like… a whole thing with us. See, Khorne, the god who made me, is all about blood and skulls, but he really likes the number 'eight.' I have no idea why, but I've got this massive compulsion to do things in that number. So, if we could make a name that has like, eight letters, that'd be great."

"What about… Disarray? That's an eight-letter word."

"Oooh. That sounds cool. What does that word mean?"

"Like… scatter, or to be in 'disarray.'"

"You can't use the word in the definition of the word."

"It's like… not being organized, and clean. My matron used to say the rooms I cleaned were in 'disarray.' So… I don't know. Maybe it's dumb."

"No, no. It can't be that dumb. It's got eight letters in it. Also, that's like, daemonic themed. We're all about disorder, and chaos. You sure you're not a cultist?"

"I'm actually really big into the Emperor right now. His captain-general gave me a sword."

"Swords are cool." The daemon conversationally stated, and then, as they seemed to settle on the name, Mable would hear the beginning of 'Disarray' complain. "I wish I was a sword."