Abandon All Hope, Embrace All Chaos

by Zeroth17

During the Science Fair in Megaville, a gate has opened to unleash a force beyond imagining. Now the heroes scramble to survive, the villains reign, and Chaos Descends upon the multiverse. Rated M for Violence, Foul Language, Sexual Themes, Nudity, Horror, And References to other 40k Fics and TTS. (Powerpuff Girl Doujinshi/Warhammer crossover) (Cover Art by Symptom99)

19. The Raven Cries Nevermore - Part 1

WARNING: This is quite possibly the darkest and most gruesome chapter in the entire story. And it's also a two parter, because I got too carried away with my plan. You have been warned.

Seriously, I can best describe this chapter as a hellish and grotesque carnival of mutants, madmen, horror, gore, mad scientists, and war pigs.

I own nothing.

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Opening File: The Arks of Omen

The Arks of Omen are colossal space vessels designed by the Daemon Vashtorr that are built around the cavernous bodies of Space Hulks the Traitor Legion claimed from the Warp.

Construction of the Arks of Omen began when Vashtorr the Arkifane entered into an alliance with the Daemon Queen and her Black Legion. Many months were spent clearing various Space Hulks of foes and preparing them for transformation by Vashtorr into something greater at a Dark Mechanicus fleet station deep within Imperium Nihilus. Each hulk became transformed by the powers of Chaos, heavily weaponised and augmented with the means to steer them through the stars through Daemons known as Ferrymen. Though no two are alike, each is heavily corrupted by the Warp and monstrously powerful. Many are easily the size of small planetoids and required entire military campaigns to clear of various Xenos and warp-horrors in order to secure them for use by the Queen of Daemons.

Despite their varying appearances and size, each Ark of Omen is built around a similar operational template. Components include:

Wardings - Used to prevent rebellion by the corrupted control systems and Machine Spirits.

Fleshmetal Gangliaxos - Swarms of silvery cybernematodes created by Vashtorr that burrow deep into the Hulk, exuding warp-silicae strands and creating a synapse-like fleshmetal cabling. As these autocognitive pathways spread through the hulk they connected and enslaved any mechanical system still viable, creating a control nexus within the Ark.

Warp Portal - Each Ark includes a captive Warp Portal for a purpose known only to a select few outside of Vashtorr and Abaddon.

Obelyskane - Another design of Vashtorr, it is an empyric beacon powered by a warp-furnace fed with the souls of Psykers in dark mockery of the Astronomican. These short-ranged devices transform each Ark into a highly viable waypoint, allowing fleets of escorting ships to navigate the Great Rift by its presence.

Ferryman - Created by the Arks Gangliaxos, which converged to create a daemonic pilot-entity. This mutated monstrosity serves as both the ship's bridge and crew, allowing for these obscenely large vessels to operate. They are bound to obey the commands issued by their master, though in truth their ultimate loyalty is to Vashtorr.

Slave-Psyker Covens - Augmented with insectile Daemon-helms that allow them to lock onto Key Fragments across time and space.

Additional exotic systems that include temporal and probability-based weapons, neutron shielding, quantum communications, counter-ballistic teleportation batteries, and many more. While formidable, many are unreliable and are further augmented by the Dark Mechanicum with Weapons Batteries, shield generators, vox arrays, hangar bays, and engines wherever they could be attached. Many of these installations are self-contained, generating their own air and power and in no way conjoined with the greater Arks own systems.

Accompanying each Ark is a flotilla of conventional Chaos Space Marine vessels in a dark mirror of the fleets of the Indomitus Crusade. Collectively, they are known as Balefleets. Some of the Arks also carry Possessor Tech-Daemons in order to protect themselves and the crew from invaders of all kinds.

Close File

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Opening File: The Tower of Nightmares

The Tower of Nightmares is perhaps the largest and most monstrous of all the Arks of Omen ever to be created. Its construction was overseen by both Vastorr the Arkifane and by the Daemon Primarch Corvus Corax of the timeline where Roboute Guilliman of the Ultramarines became the Arch Traitor instead of Horus Lupercal of the Sons of Horus. The construction first began when the Arkifane approached the Ravenlord and make a pact that they would secure one of the greatest fragments of the Key together.

Roughly the size of Terra itself and armed with corrupted armaments dating back to the Dark Age of Technology, the Tower is considered to be utterly impenetrable with it also acting as the personal laboratory of the Ravenlord himself. Inside the dread walls of the Tower of Nightmares, scores upon scores of its layers are filled with warp and xeno horrors of almost unnamable violence and perversity to nature.

Imperial operatives that have been sent to the Tower never return, though most have left behind several nuggets of information that allow the Imperium to piece together a cohesive picture of the Ark. Most of the populations that have been sent to the Tower are sorted into various groups that will be sent to specific areas of the Ark or have specific traits for experiments. For example, one group is made of latent psykers while another is made of the strongest breeding stock.

One operative had managed to reach what he described as a 'recycling plant' and sent a sample of a sludge like material commonly found in the plant back before his death. The recovered sample, analyzed by the SCP Foundation, was a mixture of blood, unknown chemical compounds, unknown biological matters, and nanotechnology.

Another operative managed to capture a few images of the sorting process before she committed suicide after being discovered. Another sample of information is that apparently several Traitor Legions massacre the populations to ensure that they do not be subjected to whatever horrifying fates that the Raven Guard have planned for them. Truly... a kinder fate than to face the horrors of the Raven Guard's horror experimentation.

However, several operatives have reported rumors of some... thing locked away in the center of the Tower, locked away to never be seen again...

TZZZZT

The-

TZZZTT

Something's wrong-

TZZZZTTT

Corax is here.

TZZZZTTT

Help me

TTTZZZTTTT

CORAXISHERE

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CORAXISHERECORAXISHERECORAXISHEREBLOODBONEFLESHMETALCORAXISHERECORAXISHERECORAXISHERECORAXISHERECORAXISHERECORAXISHEREASSIMILATIONOBSERVATIONWEAREEVERYTHINGWEAREEVERYWHERECORAXISHERECORAXISHERECORAXISHEREUNCHAINEDUNBOUNDUNENDINGBURNITALLBURNTHEFABRICSWEAREWATCHINGYOU

TTZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTT

READING ABORTED: DATA CORRUPTED

Close File

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The Watchtower

January 18th, 2023

Elitras stumbled as he leaned on Alistair who was cackling drunkenly with Nero and Serena doing the same, all of their faces flushed while Belicara and Cerene helped them stand, but even those two were a bit tipsy. The three men and three women were also joined by several of the Leaguers who had also become rather sloshed due to the celebration of Earth's victory over Chaos.

One could say that this was due to them being incredibly happy that they managed to get through the apocalyptic events of the 15 Day War, but who could blame them? After the nightmares they had endured during the war, to finally sit down and stop was like a weight that had been lifted from their shoulders. You cannot blame the men and women of this world from celebrating their victory.

Regardless, their job was not done yet as there were still several pockets of the cultists around the planet, but with the army were currently dealing with them and the GDF currently rebuilding the destroyed cities, they didn't think it'd be as horrible as they think.

But for now, they could at least rest for a short period of time.

Elitras slurred, barely able to stand because the heavy alcohol in his system, "Get... me to... my room... please..." He begged the nearest one around him, a technician who nodded and helped him stand up as he was guided to the quarters, feeling like his legs were made of manure.

He didn't notice how much time had passed before he heard the sounds of a door sliding open, blinking as his blurry vision took in the sight of a small room that he suddenly found himself in. It was void of any furniture or decorations, merely having a bed in the wall with black sheets and pillows, a separate room where a toilet and shower were.

The technician slowly laid Elitras down on the bed, resting his head on the black pillow as his dazed and drooling drunken expression grimaced and groaned. The technician merely patted him on the head, saying, "Get some rest buddy."

With that, the technician left the room, the Acolyte mumbling drunkenly as he slowly fell asleep.

---

Elitras found himself laying on the ashen ground, smelling the sharp tinge of burning flesh as it invaded his nostrils, coughing up the grey ash from his lungs as he forced himself to awaken from his deep sleep.

His eyes opened.

(Fallout 1 OST - Flames of the Ancient World)

Above him was an overcast of deep grey clouds with no cracks that allowed sunlight to pour out, bellowing pillars of night black smoke rose to the sky beyond counting, the tinge of orange leaving a faint hue on the clouds. Hot dry air brushed against his face, feeling almost like a great blaze was near as small bits of ash clung to his cheeks.

A groan of pain escaped his lips and throat, feeling the bones in his body pop as he stands, the muscles in his legs screaming in disagreement but he paid them no heed. The sweat on his torso that drenched the tanktop he was wearing gave a shiver of cold at feeling the wind against his skin, his crimson hair flowing in the wind, his ruby eyes taking in a sight that made his jaw fall agape.

It was bleak and blast landscape, once probably a sprawling city with burnt black gutted buildings spanning further than the eye could see. The sky was shrouded in a massive cloud of black with spots of grey that let through the barest spots of sunlight that bleed through the break sky. Building sized pyres dotted the seemingly limitless city, whatever burnt in their immense scorching presence issued a bright orange light that hued the clouds while whatever was being eaten by the flames bellowed out thick clouds of pitch-black smoke.

Nothing like that however would prepare him for what he saw below when he reached the edge of empty tip of the building that he was standing on.

Below him was a veritable river of flesh running through dark streets unseeable under the several tons of biomass that rose to several stories, masses of limbs and faces randomly formed before unforming in equal randomness, their screams and their non-Newtonian prehensile paws flailing out and grasping the air in a desperate attempt of release. It bubbled and writhed, flowing up the walls or tensing back at the scorching touch of the flames. Shapes that could only be dreamt by the mad weaved themselves through the liquescent flesh, bulging and swelling as the ones that composed it tried to take the forms they once possessed.

Elitras gaped at the sight of the river of flesh, watching as the face of a child formed and let out an infantile wail before several hands formed and grasped it, dragging it back to the depths of its dread being. He backed away with inhuman horror burning through his synapses, feeling a feral instinct drive him to not go in. The scarlet haired man then turned to see a small passage, likely leading him deeper into the depths of the horror world he found himself in.

Steeling himself for whatever awaited him below, the scarlet haired man inhaled deeply before he descended down the stairs.

What he came across was what appeared to be an empty living room of a condo, ash and dust coating every surface with the furniture still intact and the pictures and paintings still hanging on the walls, the television was still on but playing nothing but an unending drone of static. He then reached the kitchen, hearing the faint buzz of a refrigerator as he noticed half eaten meals on a round wooden table with still intact chairs.

Elitras picked up a half-eaten sandwich from its plate, sniffing it before he shrugged and took a bite. He made a satisfied sound at the taste before he scarfed it down, deciding to at least feed his gullet a little.

After that, he immediately turned to see an old, rusted door that contrasted the marble walls of the ash covered condo. Just before he could go, it swung open on its own, revealing a narrow corridor filled with smoke and fire. The crimson haired man stared undisturbed, before he took a deep breath and advanced on.

Just as he reached the doorframe, Elitras exhaled. The stream of air from his transhuman lungs blew the smoke out through the windows that lined the hall, releasing the black blinding gaseous refuse from the corridor, revealing grey metallic walls and floors before it revealed the empty doorframe that laid at the other end. A sigh of uncertain passed from his lips as a shiver of dread came slithering down his neck.

With an equally heavy sigh like the last, Elitras moved.

As he passed the doorframe and every window around him, a sense of dread began to build inside of him, like the weight of several worlds came down on his shoulders. A shiver slithered down his spine, a profusion of sensations like needles piercing his pores, feeling like he was trudging through the mud while bound in chains and weights dragging him down. The sensation grew more and more like he was coming to the other end of the hall, approaching the doorframe before he stopped with a bated breath.

The room was coated entirely in smoke and ash, obscuring his sight as he forced his feet to continue walking. Just after he entered the room, the shroud of smoke and ash parted, revealing the space in its entirety. The wall separating it from outside had been taken out entirely, revealing the burning city in its entirety. The floors were wooden and covered in ash and dust, not furniture or pictures hung on the remaining walls.

However, Elitras stared at the thing in front of him with wide eyes.

It was a humanoid, clad in a buttoned up black wool coat that reached the ankles, black gloves on its hands, black pants with black leather shoes. In its hand was a black polished wooden cane with a golden hand. It was wearing a white plaster mask with one large black spot on the right eye and a black X on the left eye, two thin rabbit-like ears, and a jagged fanged grin painted in red. Around it however was a series of paintings in golden floral scroll frames with the Imperial Aquila on each corner.

The first painting showed a white-haired man wearing a business suit and a labcoat, surrounded with formulas and calculations. "The Emperor's Intellect" was written in gold on the frame. What puzzled him however was that it was crossed out by in bright red paint, or what he hoped was paint.

The second showed the back side of a man with brown hair, dressed in a dirty whit beater and black pants with a Lasgun in his hands, with the Aquila engraved on his back in scar tissue. The ground was black, and the sky was grey, but the most shocking part was whom the man was facing; it was Huron Blackheart, lighting claw raised to strike, yet the man did not seem to yield. "The Emperor's Valor" was written in gold on the frame. This one was also crossed out in red.

The third showed another man facing away from the watchers; this one has shoulder length ginger hair and a full beard, wearing a white long sleeve shirt under a red leather duster, grey pants, and black boots. A reflection in a nearby crystal showed that his eyes were glowing red that went along with the expression of utter rage that adored his face. In his arms was a human sized version of the Spear of Telesto, and a Bolter, loaded and ready, was tied to a strap around his shoulder and torso. He stood above a precipice as the furious traitor Sons of Horus were drawing near. "The Emperor's Vengeance" was written in gold onto the frame.

The fourth showed three figures: The Star Fyodperor with Leman Russ and unknown man. All three seemed to be diving through the air, Fyodor having his scepter raised and his mouth open like a yell, and Leman with his sword raised and mouth open like a howl. The one on his right had a large grey ragged cloak, his face was odd with the right side being black as night and the left side being an orange-copper color with this side being the only one that had an eye, in his hands was a Chaos corrupted Bolt Rifle. He was grasping the right side of the Throne of Judgement, aiming his Bolt Rifle at whatever is in front of him and the two. "The Emperor's Compassion" was written in gold on the frame. This one was also crossed out in bright red.

The fifth showed two people were sitting in a black space illuminated only by an unseen dim source of light from the unseen above. The first one was an absolutely beautiful woman with short black hair dressed in a black concealing outfit on her knees, cradling the second. The second was a male with shoulder length hair and a beard was wearing pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a sleeved mantle. The only other thing existing in the painting other than the figures were the radiant golden tears that flowed down the female's cheeks. "The Emperor's Regrets" was written in gold on the frame.

The final painting showed a swath of golden fire; blasting, scouring, the faces of the Traitor Primarchs screaming as they burned in relentless blasts. The ground was ashen grey while Horus screamed to the sky as he burned in the background. In the center of the torrent of golden flames, was a black male figure with eyes burning like the flame around him, in his hands was the Sword of the Emperor, burning brighter than all the White Dwarfs of the universe. "The Emperor's Resolve" was engraved in gold on the frame.

Suddenly, before Elitras could comment, the masked one spoke.

"1 year, 9 months, 28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 12 seconds." The person with the rabbit mask spoke, their voice neither male nor female, echoing and melodic, "That is when the end of the world comes. Unless nevermore does the raven cry."

"W-What?"

The Rabbit then raised a hand up, its gloved fingers closed around something round. Suddenly, it opened its hand, letting something fall only to be stopped by a golden chain attached to it. It swung for a moment before he saw what it was.

The Clock of Ages.

Just as he took in the sight of the Clock, it began ticking, the golden hands began to move in since with the passage of time.

"The Clock is ticking, Elitras." The Rabbit said with a sinister inflection in its tone.

Before he could say anything more, the world around him seemed to darken before everything fell into blackness.

(End)

---

Elitras' eyes shot open, revealing his scarlet eyes to the world before he inhaled deeply, that resulted in him going in a coughing fit. When he regains his breath, the red-haired Acolyte panted with wide eyed shock as he tried to process what just happened.

He then groaned when he felt a massive headache, a wave of nausea came over him, but it faded just as quickly as it formed. Elitras then blinked it away the bright lights as he forced himself to stand up, despite the heavy amounts of alcohol still in his system.

However, unfortunately, he nearly fell back over, grabbing the wall to stop himself from falling to the floor. Groans came out of his mouth against his will, feeling the alcohol slowly being neutralized as cold sweat drenched his skin and stained the tanktop he was wearing. His breathing became heavy as a sense of warm came through his veins as he tried to get the room to stop spinning, before he felt a familiar feeling come to his bladder.

Elitras managed to get to the bathroom before any messes could be made as the door closed behind him. The sound of liquid spilling and the moans of inebriated agony echoed through the room before it was followed by the flushing of a toilet. A second later, the door slid open to reveal Elitras who stumbled out with a relieved expression on his face.

"That felt good..." He breathed before he sat back down on the bed, running a hand through his scarlet hair and wiping the sweat off his brow.

The crimson haired acolyte put his face in his hands as his mind was still reeling from that vision. Was this what Serena experienced all those months ago? He supposed he would have to sympathize with her. Though, a desperate and scared part of his head supposed maybe it was just a dream, but the rest of him said otherwise.

Elitras had to tell the others this.

With that, he changed into a pair of Demin jeans and a red dress shirt that he didn't like on, wearing the latter because most of his clothes are in the wash. Just as he put on a Demin jacket, he left something in his pocket.

Reaching into his jacket, Elitras grasped onto and pulled out a golden necklace with an Aquila pendant. He gave a slight smirk at the pendant, thinking back to when he was gifted this by a grateful Imperial citizen after saving her life from a burning building. The beggar told him that all she had left was her faith in the Emperor, giving him the pendant that she possessed ever since she was a little girl.

Maybe he did believe that the Emperor was a god, but he knew that the Emperor would never approve so he kept quiet. But... maybe, this thing might be a good luck charm. Who knows?

After stuffing it back in his coat pocket, the door opened to reveal a familiar sight.

It was Cyrene, dressed in a pink shirt under a grey hoodie, and black slacks with white tennis shoes. Her ponytail had been undone, with her bangs framing her cheeks and her forehead exposed, her face lightly pale from the hangover before she stumbled onto the bed by his side, much to Elitras' surprise. She moaned before leaning on his shoulders, having a splitting headache.

"...You okay?" Elitras asked after several moments of awkward silence.

Cyrene groaned again, lifting her head so that her pink eyes met Elitras' crimson eyes, "I'm fine, just... not used to... drinking this much."

He just patted her on the back in sympathy. However, in that moment, he kept wondering, should he tell her about the vision? What would happen if he did? What would happen if he didn't? What if it becomes a tumultuous matter with the fact that apparently, he had less than two years before the world ends. And then there was the matter of if he should tell the Emperor.

That matter was settled when his hard-wired loyalty to Him forced him to admit this to the Emperor, but what about the other Acolytes?

Well, one matter at a time then, but maybe he'll just tell both of them then.

"Come on, walk with me." Elitras helped Cyrene stand up when it seemed like she had recovered enough to do so. She hobbled for a second or two before she gained her footing, walking out into the corridor with him.

The both of them then blinked when they saw the other Acolytes waiting for them in the hallway. Alistair's raven hair was a mess as was his beard, dressed in a dark green shirt under a black leather jacket and black leather pants. Serena had her raven hair loose, her bangs framing her cheeks with her forehead exposed, having an emerald tanktop under a motorcycle jacket with Demin jeans and motorcycle boots.

Belicara had her hair in a similar style as Serena, but she wore a sky-blue shirt that matched her eyes under a white open sweater, and blue slacks with light blue shoes. Nero had shaved his goatee, and his short blond hair now slicked back, wearing a dark blue dress shirt under a black dress jacket, black slacks with blue dress shoes. Bell's hair was let down, but the bangs were held back by her hair band, wearing a white shirt under a white leather jacket, and Demin jeans with white tennis shoes.

Alistair whistled at the sight of the two, "Yeesh, you two clearly are still reeling from your first hangover."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry for not having a liver like a Space Wolf's." Cyrene scoffed at the joke, which only made the others laughs.

Belicara stifled her laughter before she motioned for them to follow them, "Well, come on. E asked us to be on guard as Dexter is testing a new device of his."

The others nodded, walking off down the grey corridors of the Watchtower and past the polycarbonate windows that let them look out into the void of space. They passed by the other technicians of the Watchtower, some looked more hungover than them but kept trucking on, lest they fall behind on their work. However, then the Acolytes got to the elevator, Elitras suddenly laid back on the walls of the lift while the doors close and the platform descended.

"God, Alistair..." The red one muttered out, getting his attention, "What the hell did you put in that stuff last night?"

"Huh?" Alistair blinked in honest confusion, a motion mimicked by the other Acolytes, "I didn't put anything in our drinks."

"Well, I'm pretty sure there was something in it because I had the weirdest dream in my life last night." Elitras explained, getting the other Acolytes attention especially Cyrene's and Serena's, who have had visions before in the Imperial Palace and two months ago respectively.

"It was weird." Elitras began, scrunching his face as he tried to recall the dream, "I woke up on the top of a building. There was this city, it was on fire with the buildings gutted and covered in ash, smoke was bellowing out so much that the skies were black and the only sources of light were the infernos." The others blinked but he continued, "Oh, that's not the worst part. There was this... river of flesh running through the streets. I swear to the Throne that there were faces in it."

The other Acolytes made expressions and sounds of disgust, but Elitras just chuckled mirthlessly, "Oh, that's not the worst part either. I descended down the building and then I came across this room. There was this... guy, I think? And he was wearing this weird rabbit mask."

"A rabbit mask?" Nero deadpanned incredulously.

"Yes, a rabbit mask." Elitras deadpanned back before he continued, "The masked man then said, '1 year, 9 months, 28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 12 seconds. That is when the world will end. Unless nevermore does the raven cry.'"

The others stared with bewildered expressions while Cyrene repeated, "'Unless nevermore does the raven cry?'" At Elitras' nod, she pondered with a fist to her chin before she snapped her fingers with a look of realization, "Corvus Corax."

Her realization spread to the other Acolytes, but that still didn't answer the other questions that were plaguing their heads.

"Is there anything else in the dream?" Cyrene queried Elitras, who pondered and tried to remember anything else from the dream before he snapped his fingers in realization.

"Yeah, there was." He confirmed as he then continued, "The guy in the rabbit mask then held up the Clock of Ages and the last words I heard were 'The Clock is ticking, Elitras.'"

At hearing that, Alistair immediately fished out the Clock of Ages from his pocket. It wasn't ticking, at least not yet. But still, he decided not to take any chances with what he heard, especially considering they had less than two years till the world would end.

"Clock, scan for temporal anomalies." Alistair ordered the device of unknown origin.

The Clock's gears and hands spun, golden energy coursing through the parts as it seemed to sift through each layer of reality there was. After a minute, all activity from the Clock ceased as a female voice reported, "NO TEMPORAL ANOMALIES DETECTED."

"Well, that solves that for the moment." Alistair pocketed the clock, giving his thoughts on the matter, "But I think we need to tell the Emperor about your dream. I think he'll know what to do if we give them the details."

"Yeah, I think you're right." Elitras conceded along with the others.

Before their conversation could go on, the elevator opened to reveal their destination. The Acolytes all looked at each other before they nodded, deciding that they would tell the Emperor after the demonstration.

The reason they were coming down here was simple; Dexter and several colleagues in the GDF have managed to create a prototype Warp Drive, which they were planning on using to hopefully give them an edge and understanding of the Warp and Chaos. Due to the inherent risks of the Drive, the Emperor and the Acolytes were there to keep guard on any intrusions during the experiments.

They came to an open space, where nearly all the scientists of the Megaville GDF and most of the Justice League where present in a crowd around the machine of Dexter's design. It was a conical device the size of a garbage trunk and lined with thousands of miniature emerald glass planes connected to metallic arms underneath, surrounded by three consecutive metallic rings while at the base of the device was a series of other cogitators and cables attached to the main drive, a metal fence around it as to keep the crowd back in case of any incident.

Meanwhile, they saw Dexter and Professor Utonium standing at a control panel, which was open with the two doing some last-minute tweaking to the motherboard to prevent any unwanted accidents from happening. Behind them was both I.M Weasel and Dr. Brisbaine, watching over them with their typical stoicism. And by them, the Emperor himself was helping connect the last bits of the machine with Haloshard arms.

Also, in the crowd, was Doctor Wakemen and Professor Membrane, both standing at the front of the crowd so that they could assist if needed. However, judging by the weary look on the former's face, she didn't seem comfortable with the device in front of her. The latter however had a posture of eagerness to him, excited to see the capabilities of the machine. By Wakemen however was Jenny, who was actually upgraded after assimilating the Cluster nanotech that she was infected with during the Science Fair, waving to them with Belicara waving back with a smile.

"I'm telling you, E, it is safe!" Utonium responded to a query from the Emperor, closing the control panel before he began typing on the keyboard, "So, long as the connections are established, it will be able to stabilize the currents of the Warp flowing through it."

"Well, forgive me for being cautious, Jonathan." The Emperor said upon connecting the last cable in place, watching as the mechanisms hummed to life as energy coursed through them like a storm, "Look, I trust your judgement but if anything goes wrong, I'll shut it down and then we'll recalibrate it. Is that fine?"

"Very well," Jonathan acquiesced before they noticed the Acolytes coming in. The professor's expression immediately brightened as he saw his daughters, going to them and giving the nearest one a hug, before the rest of her sisters joined in. The crowd smiled at this, even E before he got back to work.

The brothers took one look at Professor Brisbaine and I.M. Weasel, both of whom only gave a curt nod before they turned their attention back to the Warp Drive.

Despite himself, Elitras couldn't help but feel a touch of resentment as a bitter expression formed on his face. The sisters had the professor's love, but he and his brothers barely got anything out of the two, all they got was stoic pragmatism. They weren't stupid enough to betray them to Chaos like the Primarchs, but it still left a sour taste in their mouths.

And judging by the bitter expressions on the faces of Alistair and Nero, they were feeling the exact same thing as him.

Regardless, they moved past it when they saw the crowd turning their attention to the Warp Drive. The Emperor stood in front of the crowd and cleared his throat, getting their attention as he began, "My friends and allies, I have once thought that to defeat Chaos, one must be ignorant of it. But ever since the Horus Heresy, and some persuasion by the Justice League, I've decided that I have to fight the source of their power."

He then gestures to the Warp Drive, being his usual charismatic self, "This device is the first step of our initial experiments into anti-Warp devices and weaponry. If this test is successful, we should be able to begin the first steps into being able to combat the dreaded things beyond the veil!"

The crowd applauded the Emperor who took a bow, especially the scientists. During the applause, a female technician nearly tripped on something and had to balance on the wall before she could fall down on her face. Another technician offered a hand to help her up, giving him a bashful but thankful nod as she grabbed his arm bring herself to her feet. With that, she made herself scarce, likely to prepare another part of the machine for activation. The male technician nodded, before he noticed a small purple bracelet on her wrist, yet he thought nothing of it and just shrugged before going back to work.

Unseen to everyone, there was a brief flash before the glamor covering her was gone, revealing the woman who now had purple hair and eyes. She turned around to the Warp Drive, giving a sinister smirk as she pressed a Star of Chaos emblem on her palm with her thumb.

Suddenly, a small mass of Cluster nanotech formed on the other technician's arm, coiling around before it slithered down onto the ground. Turning its 'head', the mass of xeno nanotech slithered towards the control panel, weaving through the feet of the massive crowd. Before anyone could take notice, the nanotech mass slithered into the control panel.

"Alright, we're just gonna do something simple." Professor Utonium announced as he carefully placed his hands on the controls, "We're just going to form a small rift and have it stabilize for a few moments before we close it." He then turns to the other technicians to get it ready the machine for its first test.

He and the technicians typed in several commands into the control panel, turning several knobs and setting dials. The Drive hummed to life as a light blue aura surrounded the rings before they slowly began to stir, rising up and spinning around the conical center while lightning arches. The torrents of lightning soon coiled together in a shine of blue before it slowly expanded.

The energy slowly seemed to warp into a spiraling vortex, humming lightly as it seemed to be stable enough. The crowd were in awe at the odd whimsy of the rift, too small to let anything through but too big to remain stable without the Drive's presence. The Acolytes themselves having an odd expression of interest, despite their caution, as there always was an odd sense of whimsy to the Warp.

The machine was surprisingly stable, several emerald planes glistened with power from the immaterial, shifting and sifting like they were under currents of gentle water. The inner mechanisms whirled in surprising stability, glowing a soft green blue as the other components hummed quietly. The stabilizers spooling as they tried to keep the rift from going out of control and causing harm.

It was a light blue, letting them slightly peer into a small section of the Warp, looking like it was a veritable ocean of blue and the colors of sunrise.

"Whoa..." Belicara, Nero, Bell, and Jenny all breathed as they watched this rather peaceful section of the Warp, even if they knew what laid inside. The Justice League and the rest of the Acolytes looked on with equal awe, as did the scientists and other heroes in the crowd. Even the Emperor gave a slight nod, having gazed into the Warp so many times that he was practically inoculated.

However, when Elitras stared into the rift, something else caught his eye.

He had a hard time describing it, but the best he could describe it was a planet, not a Daemon World but... something different. It was seemed to be filled with machinery, but some parts undulated like flesh. An aura of blackness seemed to shroud it before the features of faces and horrid gears of death roiled around.

Whatever it was, he felt an odd sense of terror as something began whispering into his ears.

"Alright, I think that's quite enough." Professor Utonium said as he went to the control panel to deactivate the Warp Drive. The other technicians nodded, going to the controls so that Chaos wouldn't attempt another incursion.

Observing the experiment, Gaz turned back to her cover, glad that through this small piece of jewelry, she was currently invisible to anyone who can see into the Warp, including the Emperor. However, it was a rare material and was only given to her by the Queen after she had infiltrated the Watchtower.

Regardless, she had to nip their efforts at the bud before their plan could bloom.

Cupping a hand so that her voice wouldn't attract the others, Gaz whispered into piece of tech imbedded in her ear, "Now."

Suddenly, just Utonium was about to reach for the controls, lightning suddenly arched from the panel causing him to jump back in shock. Smoke and sparks sizzled out from the terminal as breaking sounds came through the mechanisms, parts breaking as something uncracked under the pressure of the power it attempted to wield.

The crowd suddenly tensed at that, before Nero voiced their thoughts, "What's happening?"

And just a second later, one of the cables exploded, taking out one of the stabilizers that were keeping the rift in check. And then, the rift began to grow and grow, lighting flared out from the expanding hole in reality.

"ONE OF THE CABLES BLEW OUT! THE STABILIZERS ARE DOWN!" The technicians screamed out, alarming all of the crowd despite all of them unable to take their eyes off of the rift. "MORE POWER IS BEING SPILLED INTO THE RIFT!"

As if on cue, the rift suddenly burst out like an ethereal bomb; the entire Watchtower began shaking as it seemed to tear further into reality than ever before. The Emperor immediately saw the writing on the walls and roared out, "EVERYONE GET BACK!"

The crowd immediately vacated the room in a rather panicked fashion as the Emperor attempting to do something to close it. However, before anyone could react, the rift suddenly spewed a beam of warp power towards a section of the crowd that was still trying to get out of the room.

It all seemed to slow.

Elitras' head went into overdrive as he saw the beam rocket towards the people in slow motion, only the Emperor seemingly reacting to it faster than him but it was too near them for him to intervene. However, Elitras, at the angle and position he was in, was the only one who could intercept it.

He didn't know what to do, his eyes darting to the beam and the people, his mind going in two directions at once as it was conflicting with itself. Then he saw their terrified faces and the sheer desperate desire to live and escape. And something in him just snapped and burned.

Instinct overrode his logic, his desire to protect the innocent overriding his survival instinct, and a sudden burst of compassion erupted from deep within his soul.

His legs acted on their own accord, sprinting at such speeds that it felt like the muscles in his legs ripped, the areas on the floor where his feet landed on cracked into splinters. Elitras jumped in front of Nora Wakeman who was about to be hit by the beam, throwing her out of the way as it hit him directly in the chest.

The look of horror that had come onto the faces of the other Acolytes, the Justice League, and even the Emperor Himself, directed a pang of guilt on Elitras. It didn't hurt, more like a warm bath flowing over him.

Even as he felt the beam burn into him, Elitras thought about this act with the few nanoseconds he had left. Why did he do this? Why sacrifice himself for these people? Why, he of transhuman masterwork from both the GDF and the Emperor, sacrifice himself for people that did not come even a fraction of his power?

...Maybe Superman affected him in such a way that not even the pragmatism of the Emperor could bend.

Smiling despite himself, Elitras closed his eyes as the beam enveloped him entirely.

Time resumed as there was a bright flash of light. A cry then rang out before there was splitting of metal and circuitry, and the light then receded. There, everyone was privy to the sight of Alistair, who just ripped out of the cables to the machine, panting with the feral rage of a Fenrisian Wolf. The drive slowed; the planes began to still as emerald energy slowly arced, the whirling ceased, the shrill burning of machinery that overloaded from the incident.

However, there was no other reaction other than horror, when they saw a massive spot of soot in front of a horrified Noreen Wakeman. The other heroes and scientists had watched on with horrified expressions on their faces.

But nothing can compare to the overwhelming shock and horror that were on the Acolytes' faces. Being brothers and sisters, their ties were practically unbreakable, so should one fall... the heartbreak would be a thousand-fold compared to losing someone else. "No..." Cyrene whispered as tears began to prick up in the corners of her eyes, her hands going to her mouth, "No..."

The reaction was the same for Bell and Belicara, Serena and the brothers merely rested at the walls, looking catatonic at the sight. The only one who seemed calm was the Emperor, as he knew what was to come for the red-haired Acolyte, whispering so quietly that not even Kal-El could hear him. "Good luck, Elitras. You really will need it."

There was only horrified silence as everyone stared at the soot covered spot where Elitras occupied just a moment ago.

---

The Warp

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" A scream rang out before there was a loud thud and a pained moan rang out. Elitras groaned in pain after he fell to whatever this place had for a ground, writhing as he tried to force himself to his feet. His eyes opened... before a horrific sight awaited him.

It was a landscape of black metal and pink flesh, heaving masses that spewed buckets of fluids and hushing uneasiness in ephemeral form. The 'sky' was all the beautiful colors of sunrise, rushing airy presences brushing past him, improbable things of unnamable origin slithered into the shadows where they were born. A faint whisper began to ring in his ears as he began to form dread realization to where he had been displaced.

"Oh, shit..." Elitras groused as he let himself fall back to the ground.

He was trapped in the Warp.

He owed Alistair so much money.

That is if he could live to see the materium again.

---

The Formless Wastes

Unknown time later...

(Fallout 1 OST- City of Lost Angels)

Elitras was panting, trudging through the mud of whatever part of the Warp he had ended up in. He'd been wandering this area for what felt like days or weeks, subsisting on the mulch and sludge of whatever he could find, his transhuman biology seemingly neutralizing whatever toxic properties they possessed. And the ones that couldn't were rather violently expelled from his stomach.

The scarlet haired transhuman should have gone insane, but he was too delirious to take in whatever sight was around him, unable to experience whatever sanity blasting effects around him.

He heard things, beating hearts, pained and tempting whispers that failed to pierce the clouds of delirium in his ears. He felt the eyes of tumorous horror things from beyond the known glaring at him, unable to act on a mind that was so clouded that it could not be controlled. He could smell the stench of rotting maggot infested meat and the most decadent meals ever to grace his nostrils, but it was not enough to deter him.

However, Elitras was slowly weakening. He could barely think due to dehydration, he hadn't slept for days, his eyes could barely stay open as they got heavier with each blink. His breath was beginning to grow heavier; he could feel his bones weakening, eyes watering as sulfuric fumes stung his retinas.

His pale clammy face, drenched in sweat and grease, dark circles under his eyes from sleep deprivation, and saliva covered lips from his dehydration. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his ankle and the sound of bones cracking. Elitras choked a gasp of pain, panting heavily before he forced his head to look down at whatever was causing the pain. His foot was bent at an unnatural angle, flesh split as red muscles tissue and sharp pieces of bone were visible, and blood began rapidly spilling out of wound, coating his shoe in sticky redness.

"Oh, shit..." Elitras groused, struggling to keep standing as he was too tired to fly.

Before he could collapse, the crimson haired man took in the sight of something. It was what appeared to be a small chapel, composed of wood and bronze with stain-glass windows that held images that he couldn't make out. There was what appeared to be an Aquila on the roofs, and the hanged bodies of several people, flayed and with their blood decorating the walls.

Elitras was either too jaded by the horrors of the Warp, or too delirious with pain and exhaustion to care about the appearance as he started limbing towards the chapel, uncaring for the flaring agony in his foot.

Eventually, after several moments of stumbling on his unbroken foot, Elitras came to the chapel doors, pressing his hands on the smooth metal doors. With a cry of pain, Elitras pushed with all his might, the doors easily parting as he collapsed into the floor of the chapel.

Kicking the doors closed with his good foot, Elitras writhed on the floor, dragging himself to whatever part that he could prop himself on.

Panting heavily, he looked at his twisted ankle, seeing that the blood had already began clotting, stopping him from losing more but he had to reset it so that it'll heal right. Steeling him for whatever pain might overcome him, the scarlet haired man grasped his broken foot with both of his hands, breathing in and out raggedly. And then with one swift jerk, he snapped his twisted ankle back into place. The snap of bones cracked out like a gunshot, the talus reset to that it was connected back to the fibula and tibia as the muscles relaxed, blood gushing out again as the infected clotted blood was squeezed from the wound.

The blistering agony that flared up jerked out a slight hiss and a flinch from him before he fell back to the ground, feeling endorphins rushing through his veins. Minutes turned into hours; he felt the fractured bones in his ankle pull back together and pinned together by his blood, skin slowly scarring over the wound. He kept panting, his tired and bloodshot eyes staring at the ceiling, his shirt and pale clammy skin drenched in sweat.

Using his waning strength, Elitras sat up and leaned on the nearest thing for support, taking in the hazy sight of the chapel. From what he could make out, there were several roles of empty pews with white painted walls, a red ceiling lined with symbols and artistry that he didn't recognize, and a stage with a dais that had another symbol that he couldn't make out. However, his sight was focused on something else.

On a wide wooden pedestal by the dais on the stage, was a cup or chalice. His delirium unable for him to perceive details, but his starving mind convinced him that there was at least something drinkable in it. The scarlet haired man then gave into his instincts as he dragged himself across the surprisingly clean carpeted floor, undoubtedly trailing some blood behind, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He passed pew after pew, grabbing fistful after fistful of the carpet to pull himself forward with his uninjured foot pushing him forth.

Some droplets of sweat fell from his brow and dripped onto the floor, heavy panting issued from his lips as determination born from hungry and painful insanity spurned him on, his bloodshot scarlet eyes like piercing gates of hell itself. His wet matted crimson hair brushed against the carpet, trails of sweat and grease left behind him, his bloodied foot leaving a faint trail behind before he grips some of the pew to push himself on quicker. The pain in his foot began to fade but the mind-numbing ache remained, the thirst began to overtake him as the cup got nearer and nearer, seemingly stretching into infinity before his fingers brushed against the carpet steps of the stage.

Elitras stopped when he realized he had reached the stage, his hands brushing against the carpet before he summoned all the strength he had left, forcing his groaning body to stand on both his healing and unbroken foot. Despite the sting and ache in his bloodied foot, the crimson haired Acolyte forced himself to go up the two steps to the stage, slowly and agonizingly. The second he got to the stage, Elitras lost whatever was left of his strength, collapsing onto his knees with a grunt, his arm thudding onto the pedestal.

He was panting harder than before, his face drained of color and drenching in sweat, feeling like his body weighed a thousand pounds. With a pained cry of determination, he forced his upper body up to the pedestal, where he saw the cup. It was rather large, enough for an Astartes to hold in one hand, and filled with something that smelled of something made from the heavens themselves.

Unable to contain his thirst, Elitras immediately dunked his lips into whatever liquid was in the cup. Immediately, the taste bolted to his tongue; it was sweeter than anything he had ever tasted, almost like melted gold mixed with all of his favorite meals.

He couldn't stop himself. Elitras grabbed the cup and slurped down whatever liquid was in the chalice, his lips and cheeks stained with its viscousness. He felt his stomach be filled, the haziness of his mind began to clear, strength returning to him. He keeps drinking it, feeling it slowly begin to empty yet he refused to cease, before a feeling of empowerment rose inside him.

Then just when his lips began suckling on air, Elitras rested the cup back on the pedestal before he lays on the ground with an uncouth thud, letting out a small groan before his vision returns. He blinked when he saw the ceiling, covered in what appeared to be artistic depictions of Sanguinius, depicting him with the severed head of Kyriss and him breaking Ka'bandha's spine, all coming to him resting in the glass coffin on Baal.

Suddenly, just seconds later, Elitras blinked when he suddenly felt energized and free of injury. He looked to his foot and saw that it had healed, rolling it with no pain or aching. All the delirium and pain were missing, almost like a miracle.

"I feel great..." Elitras proclaimed as he got to his feet, feeling like he had just been reborn, feeling blood pumping and muscles tensing. Suddenly, he let out a laugh of joyous delight, like that of a child, "I haven't felt this good since I got out of the Mirror Vats!"

However, it was then that he noticed the cup on the pedestal and all that remained inside him was shock and horror. The cup was large enough to only being held by the hand of an Astartes, bronze with a skull carving and studded rim, a grey handle and aquila carved into the back.

It was the Red Grail.

He had just drunken the entirety of the Red Grail.

And that meant...

"I drank the blood of Sanguinius..." Elitras breathed, touching his lips and retracting his fingers to see the tips having the still wet blood. It was then that he saw tendrils of crimson energy dance around his fingers.

Just as he wiped the rest of the blood off his cheeks with his sleeve, he circled around when he heard the sounds of heavy doors moving. And in a split second, he saw the doors to the chapel opening for whatever horrid thing that had taken this church as its home came. However, just as before whomever could enter, Elitras vanished in a streak of red before he reappeared under one of the pews behind the front row, watching and waiting for whatever was to come next for him.

The heavy stomps from Power Armor boots gave him an inkling on whom had just entered the chapel. A second passed before he heard the dashing, like a fully armored Astartes running up the aisle, before they came to the stage. The tinkling of metal on an armored glove and the sharp hiss of a gasp, before a voice, lovely but deceptively so, rang out, "It's empty! The Grail's empty!"

A moment of silence before he heard more armored footfalls and non-armored footfalls, before they ceased and another voice, lovely but baritone, rang out, "What happened?!"

"The Grail is empty! Someone had drunken from it!" The first voice yelled out, his instincts telling him that he was showing the empty Grail for all his companions to see.

"How?!" A female voice rang out, the sound of claws lightly scraping against bronze, "It was full when we had taken it!"

"Did you drink from it, Kronas?!" The second voice growled at this 'Kronas.'

"Of course, I didn't, Eragost!" Kronas, his voice gravelly and lacking refined finesse, pleaded with his claws raised, "How could I have?!"

"Wait!" Another voice, a feminine contralto, rang out, cutting off the others presumably with a raised hand before Elitras heard sharp inhalation, "I smell something..."

Silence overcame the room, with the only thing being brief sniffs. The female voice continued, "Do you smell that, Elise?"

Another sniff, before another voice, feminine and contralto, came out, "I do, sister."

Elitras crawled to the edges so that he could get a peak, before he stopped when a figure crouched down in front of him.

It was a Succubus, hair of blood red with ram-like horns, pale beautiful skin with purple eyeliner and black lipstick, eyes of emerald and pearl white teeth. She looked impossibly beautiful, so much that he had to look away lest he fall under her spell. Only clad in a series of leather straps and high leather armguards and boots, the succubus sniffed the floor like a hound before she saw a puddle of blood from when Elitras had stopped.

She ran her fingers through the blood before her rather long purple forked tongue lapped it from her digits, letting the taste come to her tongue.

"Blood... sweat..." The Succubus pondered as she licked and smacked her lips before she looked to her sister, "It was a man..." She paused and clicked her tongue for a second before she continued, "He was starving and delirious..." Another smack, "And he was..." She trailed off, having a perplexed expression as she took in the taste of his blood.

"Sister?" Elise asked her sister, coming into Elitras' view. Another Succubus, Elise appeared as a very beautiful woman with pointed ears and a voluptuous body with tribal-like tattoos on her torso, forehead and thighs. And apart from her thigh-high leather boots and matching leather armguards, Elise only has a set of leather straps to cover her private areas. Connected to her armguards was a pair of large, bat-like wings with purple membranes, that folded and unfolded at her will. She has long, dark-colored hair which seems to be divided into four, tentacle-like strands and wears an Alice band with two pairs of striped horns attached.

"This blood..." The Succubus pondered before she looked at her sister and the gathered Space Marines, "Whomever it belongs to is not a mere mortal, nor an Astartes... but something more... delicious..."

In that second of distraction, Elitras peaked from his hiding spot to see whoever was in the chapel aside from the Succubi. There were three Chaos Space Marines, clad in red power armor that disturbingly resembled that of the Blood Angels, but instead of imperial iconography, it had been replaced by the symbols of Slaanesh and fetishes of Chaos.

However, two of them were nothing less than absolutely resplendent. Unblemished skin that complimented the bewitching eyes and flawless golden hair, an aura so radiant that it seemed like nothing less than an angel themself had descended. But then something hit him, almost like a seizure before it faded as quickly as it came, and something changed.

Gone was the resplendence, in their place were gaunt thing with sunken black eyes, clammy pale skin void of lips that exposed teeth of blood red, the golden blonde had faded to an ill white.

But that paled in comparison to the third.

Kronas somewhat resembled an Astartes in size and stature, but his arms were covered in course black fur with rending claws, black chiropteran wings with bright blood red membranes, his blood red armor seemingly fused to his body with bony ridges lining the edges and spikes on the joints. The face was the worst part, a stretched grin of blood red fangs, lusterless scarlet eyes, obsidian skin, and pointed bat-like ears.

It was then that Elitras realized whom he was looking at.

Suddenly, Kronas sniffed the air, before his gaze snapped towards the row where the scarlet haired transhuman was hiding. The others immediately followed his gaze to the pew he was hiding under.

"Shit..." Elitras hissed out in frustration.

Leeroy Genkins it is then.

In a streak of red, Elitras burst from the pew faster than they could react, kicking Kronas in the face before grabbing him by the wings and then throwing him into the red-haired succubus, both of whom were sent flying into the wall that broke on impact. The two corrupted Blood Angels attempted to slash at him, but he blasted both of them with his eyebeams before their blades could hit him, sending them both flying with fist sized holes in their chests. Just a millisecond later, feeling the brushing air, Elitras ducked under the spear hand strike that would have decapitated him had he been slower, turning to see Elise with her teeth bared and her claws ready.

Elitras dodged and ducked several lightning-fast knife and spear hand strikes from the Succubus before he ducked under a horizontal strike and then let loose a kick to Elise's torso, the force blasting a hole open in her torso as eviscerated viscera and blood spewed out. However, all of it was then suddenly sucked back into her torso as the wound was liquescently sealed. Elise then raised her head, revealed her crazed eyes and intoxicated grin, the aura around her flaring to life.

The crimson haired man merely rolled his eyes, knowing that he just invigorated her, "Great."

Before he could react, suddenly Elise flared her wings and out came a swarm of bat-like creatures that speared at him. They slashed his arms with their wings and teeth, shredding the sleeves on his jacket and shirt, before he was suddenly slashed across the back multiple times. Elitras spewed out blood from his mouth, before he fell to the ground in paralyzed agony.

He heard in the air a mocking laugh before he fell into unconsciousness.

---

The pain seemed to have faded when Elitras opened his eyes again. A haze faded before he saw a pink sky over strange seas, feeling the air rushing against his skin and taunt ropes and sharp wood on his wrists and back. He felt himself on a vertical angle, dizziness overtaking him before something sharp pierced the skin and meat on his shoulder and leg. Hissing at feeling something biting, Elitras managed to gain enough control over his eyes to look down.

He was bound to a massive crucifix made of black jagged wooden, red brown ropes bound his wrists and ankles tightly, the cuffs of his jacket and dress ripped to shreds, before his eyes turned to the source of the biting pain. It was Elise and her sister, before they ripped chunks of his flesh from his body, spraying out jets of his blood before they collected it in chalices. It was then that they noticed he was now awake, grinning before Elise motioned for her sister to go. The sister left, leaving Elise to crawl up to him to where their noses touched, giving him a lascivious grin.

"Hello, sweet prince." Elise seductively crooned before she dug her fangs into the base of his neck, getting a choke to bubble from his throat. She retracted; her lips drenched in his blood before licking them with her black tentacle-like tongue as she moaned, "Your blood is like chocolate."

He tried to choke out a response, only for a rasp to come even when the wound sealed. Elise giggled, pressing herself closer to him with her chest against his, "We have orders to deliver you to a special someone. But they told us that we have as much fun with you as we want before they come. You don't have to be alive; they just need something left of you."

As if on cue, Elitras saw several of the corrupted Blood Angels approaching with several Sanguinary Marines and Succubi accompanying them. The deranged grins on their faces told him all that needed to be said on what they had planned for him. The scarlet haired man struggled more, attempting to draw on his power, but instead he felt sheering white hot burns form on his wrists and ankles.

"Oh, child, did you think we wouldn't know you'd try to escape?" Elise grinned at his pathetic attempt to escape, "Those bindings leech on that energy you emit. So, all you can do is squirm."

Elitras growled but kept struggling regardless, much to their amusement, enduring the burns even as they reached his elbows. The feeling akin to him being burned on a cellular level, his bones blackening at the intensity. Eventually, the pain was too much for him to bear and he ceased to struggle, panting and heaving through gritting teeth.

The others all looked at his helpless yet defiant form, "Any last words?" Elise sweetly asked as they brought out their tools of torture for him to see.

He kept heaving and panting, his eyes bloodshot and wild, feeling the blood drying and crusting. He felt Elise's silver claws running down and up his arm, threatening to split the skin, her tongue ran over her teeth. Barely awake and barely able to move, Elitras turned to the Succubus before he slowly leaned into her ear, before he hissed, "I hope I give you the shits, you fucking harlot."

Instead of being offended or insulted, Elise giggled, her fingers to her lips, "Such a charmer."

Before he had a chance to react, the Slaaneshi descended upon him like hungering wolves. Their blades immediately digging into his durable skin like butter, muscle splitting, metal digging into the bones as blood spewed. The Blood Angels merely collected the spilling blood in chalices that they then drank from in their attempts to say refined, while the Sanguinary Marines and the Succubi threw refinery to the winds as they kept suckling on the wounds they inflicted upon Elitras, ripping into his flesh even as it healed quickly. The Glamour of Sanguinius was keeping him placated, but more dazed than weeping, yet weakening him enough for them to keep him pinned down and unable to fight back. His chest finally caved before it was ripped open, their heads and hands ripping at his organs and intestines.

"His blood..." One of the Sanguinary Marines whispered, licking the crimson sweetness from his lips and teeth, an expression of absolute bliss on his face, "It's so sweet!"

"It's like a decadent chocolate..." One of the Succubi moaned with a look of bliss similar to the Sanguinary Marines, "So sweet... so lovely..."

Their hands grabbed his ribcage and tore it open with a jerk, his heart beating so fast and lungs heaving air so hard that they threatened to burst. Blood spewed from his mouth before Elise kissed it, gulping down the red decadent wine. Another Sanguinary Marine bit into his throat and ripped out his jugulars, guzzling down the blood spewing from them as he crushed his shoulders from his grip.

However, the moment they reacted their fangs and claws, something happened that stunned them. The destroyed and removed organs and tissue were already regenerating, branch-like tentacles of flesh coiling together and forming into replacement organs or pinning the broken bones back together to defracture. His ripped open ribcage began to close like the limbs of a dying spider and seal back together, as the black burns began to peel off his arms to reveal pink healed flesh.

Elitras choked and moaned before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, out cold from the pain and the rapid healing process.

The others looked at each other before they grinned. It seemed like they were gonna have more fun with him than they realized.

Suddenly, there was a flap of wings that caused them to pause their second attempt. Turning to the skies, they all stopped and gaped at who was coming towards them.

It was Sanguinius.

The gold that he was adorned in during the Great Crusade and the Roboutian Heresy had transmuted to silver, not just metal but skin and hair, eyes burning pink, and silver angelic wings surrounded by aura of purple. On his long flowing silver mane was a red brown crown resembling gnarled thorns, with an amethyst jewel on the front with the sigil of Slaanesh carved into its crystal composite. The rubies that had adorned his armor had become amethyst, the leopard skin that had yet to be tarnished was untouched by stains or wracks of change.

All of the Slaaneshis, be they the lowly Succubi or the highest one of the Blood Angels, then bowed to the Primarch, overwhelmed by the aura he seemed to possess, burning like a radiant star.

Eragost attempted to speak but a hand from the Silver Angel silenced him before the words could form in his throat. Sanguinius' eyes then turned to the crimson haired man bound on the crucifix, feeling something akin to a kinship between him and the bound one.

The eyes of the Silver Angel narrowed, before they turned to Eragost, "And whom is this man?"

"We..." Eragost stuttered before he composed himself, "We found him in the chapel. He... He had devoured all the blood from the Red Grail we had captured from the Loyalists."

Instead of rage like Eragost had expected, Sanguinius merely displayed acute annoyance as he then gave a curious glint at the fact that the scarlet haired man had not been torn to shreds. "And how is he still alive?"

"He simply will not die." One of Sanguinary Marines answered in bemusement, "No matter how many times we tear into him, no matter what bones we break, no matter what organs we rip out, he simply regenerates. That's not a complaint, sire. We are certain that it was due to supping the blood of the Red Grail."

Sanguinius allowed an eyebrow to be raised on his flawless face, looking to the mortal that dared to sup his great blood. He was of a different breed of man, sensing a soul that was somewhere between the lines of a mortal and a god in human flesh like the Emperor inhabiting a body like that of him when him and his brothers when they were flesh and blood. He had heard tales of the potency and power of this 'Chemical X', could it be used to create something akin to the Primarchs so easily?

Deciding that he must find out for himself, the Silver Angel raised a hand to the bound man.

Suddenly, blood began to pour from the man's nostrils, eyes, mouth, and ears in rivers of crimson that ran down his neck and chest. An orb of his blood formed from the pool that then floated into the air while the bleeding ceased. The warp stuff in the orb gibbered and wavered, before it came to Sanguinius' lips, rippling at the touch of his soul sucking teeth just as he began to drink.

And then, it hit him.

Just as the rest of the sensation hit him, Sanguinius dashed faster than a nanosecond and sunk his fangs into the flesh of the crimson haired man. His eyes rolled in their sockets as his teeth drank from the deep sack of flesh, puncturing the jugulars and nearly collapsing the trachea. A gurgle came out of the man's mouth as the crimson sanguine wine spilt from his lips and onto Sanguinus' cheeks that slid into his mouth.

A second later, Sanguinus ripped his mouth away, tearing the man's throat open with blood gushing like a torrent. Another second later, much of that blood coagulated around the wound before it receded, forming a series of branch-like tentacles that began knitting his throat closed. Yet despite it, the man was still unconscious or comatose, likely unable to be raised from his sleep.

Sanguinus wiped the blood from his perfect lips, before he realized his discomposed state, quickly regaining his calm demeanor as he cooly turned to his shocked sons and Sanguinary Marines, "Cut him down and prepare him for departure. My Honor Guard is coming and will help you with preparing him for whomever wants him."

The other Marines nodded, slowly approaching Elitras and beginning to cut him down, while the Succubi look at Sanguinius with hearts in their eyes at the sight of him drinking blood.

---

The Sanguinary Guard arrived quickly in their corrupted Gloriana class ship that landed on crimson tentacles, departing as they surrounded the comatose man. Their armor was a brilliant red with golden trims and carvings, their badges polymerized with the mark of Slaanesh, their Glamor almost a thousand time stronger than those of the baser Blood Angels.

By the time they had arrived, Elitras still hadn't woken up, even when they removed the bindings and leaving him bare from the waist up. He was covered in dried and wet blood, his hair a mess, his shoes and the lower parts of the pant sleeves in shreds. His face was placid with sleep, specks of red brushed against his cheek, his crimson eyes covered by the lids, chest pulsing with his breath.

Sanguinus told them that the horde that had captured him had 'taken their time' with him, torturing and feasting on his blood, ripping him apart. Yet he was somehow still alive.

Regardless of the actions of the group, the Blood Angels then dragged the man by the legs to a crimson coffin composed of crimson ceramite, painted in the finest reds and with silver Phosphex bombs on the sides. On the lid was a black stylized fleur-de-lis cross, adorned with lily petal flourishes at the arm-ends, outlined in white with a maroon, diamond-shaped lozenge is centered on the cross with a fanged skull in its center.

Just as they were about to throw him in, Azkaellon grabbed the filthy discarded garments on the ground but stopped when there was a subtle clinking that caught his ear. He looked down and flinched back when he saw a necklace with an Imperial aquila pendant. But just as his brothers laid Elitras down into the coffin, there was a moment of clarity in his head.

Was it pity that he clung to the Corpse Emperor? Was it disgust that he refused to see the truth about the Imperium? Or what it something else entirely?

Regardless of the thoughts, Azkaellon slowly crossed Elitras' arms across his chest, placing his hands into the shape of the worshipper's hands in the salute of the Aquila, hooking the necklace on the thumbs as it rested on the chest. Shaking his hand due to the necklace burning his armor and flesh, the champion gave a pitied look at the crimson haired man, before he turned his armored head with a nod. And then, barely giving another glance, his brothers closed the coffin, hearing the mechanisms inside hermetically sealing it.

With their prize sealed in, Sanguinius nodded and motioned for this Warband to follow him, all of them coming to the ramp of the Gloriana-Class ship, The Red Tear.

---

The Red Tear

If one could understand what things had become on the Red Tear of the Roboutian Heresy, most could find that Eliras being comatose would be nothing less than a mercy. The red heaving masses that composed the walls were almost more flesh and spirit then metal, broken pipes exhaled noxious intoxicating fumes, the mosaic-like spirits of those who died in the orgies of insanity and excess, or the feral hungering screams of the damned echoing in the nether.

The crimson coffin passed the writhing masses of crazed mobs that spilled their blood to the hungering spirit of the ship. The Blood Angels kept their composure as the Sanguinary Marines and Succubi joined the frenzies around them, while Sanguinius didn't even bother to look at any of them as the coffin was taken to one of the launch bays of the ship.

Letting a hand glide across the guardrail, Azkaellon stared at the frenzied masses in their excess that kept the essence of Slaanesh flowing. One man was suddenly stabbed in the back of his chest, ripping it open and spreading them out in a Bloody Eagle. He was then impaled through the chest and arms, raised into the air to display, and with his expression one of absolute bliss.

Azkaellon kept his composure, walking with his Primarch and non-insane brothers. They came to a massive pit resembling an opening circular maw lined with teeth that opened on reflex, where the Silver Angel took the coffin in his own hands and descended down on his metallic wings, the others taking the stairs and racing down to meet him at the bottom. Just as his feet touched the floor, the rest of the Blood Angels managed to get to the bottom of the floor with their Primarch.

Corrupted servitors soon opened a pair of heaving gates lined with fangs, parting with trails of slime and blood, revealing hordes of corrupted cyborgs and slaves working themselves to death as they moved machinery and odd vats filled with their odd cargo. Suddenly, as Sanguinius and his Honor Guard came in, all movement ceased, whether out of fear or the splendor of the Glamor.

Approaching the docking bay, the Angel turned to a head fused with a terminal. It was less of a head and more of brain in a jar filled with emerald fluid that had a skull grafted onto it, cables and tubes filled with weird fluids flowing in and out of the skull and computer. In the sockets were ocular implants that glowed a bright emerald, a Star of Chaos carved into the forehead, the terminal it was hooked into quickly scrolling with data before it ceased when it noticed his gaze.

With a curt nod from Sanguinus, its eyes nodded back, before the screen scrolled with code. It began to transmit a signal, a signal that would tell the buyer that they had obtained the package they desired.

Just as the signal went out, many of the Blood Angels steeled themselves for whatever could come next. Sanguinus, for all his narcissism, could not blame them. Even if the rewards that they give them were worth dealing with them, the buyers were part of the faction that every single other faction in the Forces of Chaos despised beyond reason.

And despise them they did...

After merely ten minutes of waiting, the terminal beeped, the codes coming in telling the Silver Angel that they were here. The signs were palpable, warp predators and daemons alike suddenly skittering away, the shadows lengthening, and the noxious voices of the things flitting near the Abyss scratching against his ears. And with an inhale of noxious air entering his ethereal lungs, Sanguinius nodded to the skull, giving it the command to let the buyers in.

Just a moment later, the bay doors opened and in came a ship. It moved into the docking bay and hovered above the landing pad as it landed. But one could not tell that given the monstrous sight before them.

It was akin to a mass of metal forced into the shape of a ship by tendrils of darkness, exhausts and engines exhaling the burnt smoke of soul fuel, the spaces between each piece occupied by dripping syrupy blackness, and the orange infernal interior visible in the ports where the cockpit would be.

It was a thing so hideous, that the monsters around them recoiled and shrieked like scared children. His sons behind him scowling behind their helms, their discipline shaking with utter hatred for the things before they steeled themselves, only the Angel was unmoved. Only he, and yet even he held a visible glare of contempt.

The gates to the ship opened, blackened tentacles slithering to the floors as they congealed into a ramp. And out came the buyer.

It was something long and lean, clad in a cloak of blue-black with furred cuffs and collar, a hood that concealed the face that showed only a series of crimson eyes peering through the darkness, mechanical hands with syringe-like fingers filled with odd concoctions of differing coloration, the legs not visible save for crimson mechanical tentacles.

Sanguinus kept his composure, but his sons were barely clinging onto theirs at the sheer wrongness that irradiated from the buyer. He merely exhaled and greeted with a rather sardonic inflection, "Arch-heretek."

"Is the package ready for delivery?" The buyer said in a garbled and distorted electronic voice, something writhing underneath its blue-black robes.

The Angel stiffened with disgust but gave a curt nod and motioned for Azkaellon to give him the coffin. His son nodded and pushed the hovering coffin to the Arch-Heretek.

It turned its head to the coffin, trailing a syringe-like finger on the crimson surface, noting the Phosphex bombs that lined the sides. Likely a failsafe should the thing inside be awakened and attempts to break free.

"Immaculate craftsmanship." It noted, before it turned back to the Blood Angels and their Daemon Primarch, "As for your reward."

The Arch-Heretek raised a hand and snapped his metallic fingers, making a sharp sound. Suddenly, from the orange interior of the ship, several arachnoid machines sprouted out, carrying caskets filled with various jewels, weapons, and supplies that most traitor legions would massacre worlds for. Instead of immediately indulging in their urges, the Blood Angels merely accepted the caskets in silence.

With that done, the Arch-Heretek took the coffin into his hands, gently guiding the anti-grav pads underneath to the craft docked at the bay. The arachnids took the job from him, pushing it to the ship as they retreated back inside it.

"Thank you for this." The Arch-Heretek bowed in respect, before it straightened itself and interwove its fingers together with the cuffs of its sleeves meeting, "The Raven Lord will be most pleased with someone of such... unique genetic stock."

And with that, it left on the odd legs of its possession, almost floating up the ramp with an inhuman grace. Just as he entered the ship, the ramp parted into a series of black tentacles that then slithered back and closed the doors of the ship, that then left as they departed the Red Tear.

The very second it was away from his ship, Sanguinus shuddered, as did all his sons and all other things in the Red Tear. Nothing, absolutely nothing they could inflict on that man would compare to the utter cold inhumanity that awaited him.

---

ThE ToWeR of NiGHtMaReS

(Fallout 1 OST - Metallic Monks)

The coordinator did not look up.

How could he?

Even clad in the ebony robes of painted flesh, even as nothing but a thing haphazardly made of biomass and cybernetics ground together, even as he was sending this crying and pleading people behind him to the meat pits, how could he look up?

Maybe he could not because he knew what was there and what sight awaited him. The coordinator had seen it so many times that it was forever burned into the grotesque polymerization of cogitators and grey matter that rested in his stappled and welded together skull. The images that the wide bulbous optics had captured repeated in his head a thousand times, the pump that replaced his heart pounding, trying to keep his composure together.

But today was different.

A special 'package' had been given to him, with Apothecary Nithus tasking him to deliver it to Lord Vashtorr and Lord Corax. Whatever it was, it was sealed in a crimson coffin-shaped stasis chamber lined with a series of locking mechanisms and clear canisters filled with liquid alchemical warfare ready to go off if whatever was inside attempted to escape.

The coordinator ran a willowy hand covered in pale stretched skin with thick tubes and metallic claw-like fingers across the silver frame. The crimson optics and audio receptors drenched in puss taking in the sight of the doors opening and the sounds of hermetic unsealing respectively.

Upon the unsealing of the doors, the coordinator was dealing with the same sight as before.

A staggeringly massive ziggurat red industrial filled the area, the red sky looming over as a veritable city of cascading metal buildings, wires, and infrastructure stretched into the horizon, titan-sized smokestacks bellowing out unfathomably massive torrents of burning smoke born from the dead, and the telltale sounds of war, screaming, and machines running echoing in the night. In front of the docking bay was a vast and wide path, supported on roughhewn stone pillars the size of skyscrapers, where millions of meatbags were being herded like cattle to the grinders or whatever horrid fate that the Raven Guard would dictate to them.

"01010100 01100001 01101011 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01101101 00101110." The coordinator spoke in binary, "01001001 00100000 01101101 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01100100 01100101 01101100 01101001 01110110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00101110."

The others nodded, letting the coordinator pass as they stepped aside with their corrupted halberds raised. He pushed the coffin out of the rusting transport down a massive and wide walkway, passing the numerous groups of meat being herded like stray heifers by the Raven Guard and their apothecaries withdrawing genetic samples with their injectors, the masses of needles that he passed driving into the heaving masses as they drew blood, bone marrow, and strips of flesh. Those that caught a glance at him immediately got themselves out of his path, lest they be subjected to whatever horrid fate that he may inflict on them.

His respirator siphoned whatever oxygen that could be taken from the pollution choked atmosphere, the optics that composed his face darting incessantly as they arrived on a set of stairs, ascending them and then coming to the wide heavy rusted metallic gates lined with pipes that devoured thousands by the minute. It was a horrible place, exhausts constantly vomiting toxic fumes, pale beige floor soaked in dried blood, chemicals, and gunk from other events, several Astartes whipping their herds to their desired destinations, some falling off the edge so that they would no longer suffer. As he passed underneath the gates like a man managing to break free of a guillotine, and passing crowds of scared and helpless men, women, and children that parted at his presence, the coordinator turned to the right where another part laid.

It was a pair of heavy gates but much smaller while on the side was a datapad with a small hole underneath. The coordinator raised a hand, feeling the metal on the back of its limb part before a terminal strip ejected from between the knuckles. The mechanical man then inserted the strip into the port, before twisting his hand like turning a key.

The screen scrolled with data before a series of bleeps rang out and then gave a beep of confirmation, and the gates opened with a hiss of steam. It was a metallic tunnel filled with pipes and infrastructure; a grated walkway lined with rusted guardrails, murderholes to kill intruders that happen to get his strip or force the doors open, ending at a path where there was someone awaiting him.

Just as the coordinator entered the tunnel, a red light flooded it as multiple scanners trailed up and down his body and the coffin to confirm the contents of the latter and the identity of the former. A moment later, there was a flash of green, and the gun barrels retreated into the walls, showing that he was allowed to pass with all the measures taken to guard it.

The cloaked thing guided the coffin through the corridor, the tinkling of his arachnid limbs on the metal floor, the subtle hum of the antigravs under the coffin, and the sounds of fluids and whatever else whatever was running through those pipes. The coordinator kept his eyes focused on the path ahead, hoping to get this delivery done and get himself cleaned up after several months of grueling work in these black pits of despair.

As he came down the mile long path, the coordinator passed a sewer pipe spewing radiant emerald sludge into a canal, a series of crimson rubber tubes that tensed as they pumped... something through the myriad of machines and pipes around, and a sparking metal fan that pumped fresh air throughout this hellscape so that the slaves they ensnared wouldn't suffocate from the fumes. Soon after, the cloaked one came to the elevated platform after what seemed to be a walk that spanned hours, pushing the coffin up a set of stairs to the next floor where he gently set it against the guardrail, letting it hover in place before it came to the door which had a panel like the other one.

Unsheathing his Terminal Strip, the coordinator plugged it into the key panel beside the door. The screen scrolled with data before it displayed the message: ACCESS GRANTED.

The door opened, but before the coordinator could enter, someone else came through. The coordinator jumped but immediately composed himself when he saw who it was.

"Warden Gift."

The Major Warden stiffly nodded before he turned to see that the package had been delivered, right on time as usual. Gift had changed since the last time they had met; his hair was now entirely eggshell white and shaggy, with none of the purple streaks that previously adorned it, and its length now coming to his collarbone. His uniform was now covered by a double-breasted black leather trenchcoat that reached his ankles over a black dress shirt and a black dress jacket, a red tie with his Iron Cross pinned to it, black slacks with polished leather shoes.

"Is this it?" Gift questioned, coming up to the coffin with the coordinator's nod confirming it. "Come then, the Ravenlord expects him."

With a stiff nod, the cloaked cyborg grasped the coffin and pushed it into the next room. There, laid before him, was a familiar sight.

It was a spacious circular room, large enough to be a hanger for an absurdly massive amount of Imperial infantry, luminated by blue hued lights with the subtle sound of fans in the backgrounds. There were several metal vats surrounded by thick machinery and pipes, vibrant emerald culture fluid bubbling out as cables and tubes ran into whatever was being created inside, spanning the further than his mechanical eyes could see.

In the center was something that the coordinator always found odd. It was a blocky structure, the size of a three-story building, composed of black stone with several walkways and platforms erected around it, tubes going in and pumping sludge and other things into it. Beside it was a platform that overlook it, held up on steel beams with a staircase or lift that allowed those wished to ascend to the top.

Just as they entered and the doors closed behind them with a loud clank and sounds of locking mechanisms turning, Gift whistled out a tune.

Like a dog obeying a command, something came out of the darkness besides them.

It was an Astartes, but one that was horrifically mutilated. The skin was pale and clammy with slight purple hues, eyelids and lips removed and bleeding blue-black blood, emerald eyes with snake-like pupils, teeth filed and sharpened into shark-like fangs on black gums, silver half-shaved hair with a metal place welded to the shaved side. The ears were replaced with auditory receptors, the throat was covered in segmented metal with bleeding welts, the cheeks split from the lips to the ears and held together only by black threads, and piercings riddling the nose and whatever unoccupied parts of the face that could be pierced.

The armor was purple with serrated and spiked gold trims, the vambraces having Lightning Claws welded on that crackled with pale purple hued energy, the legs black with gold trims, on the jump pack were several pill shaped glass containers held in a gold rack with numerous colored mixtures inside them arranged in a half circle, tubes came into the chestplate that heaving and pulsed. Its armored hands, the fingertips sharpened to claws, tensed as it exhaled purple fog and emerald drool poured out between its teeth, rolling its shoulders and popping its joints before it slowly came closer.

It was a Terata, one of the many altered Astartes made by the Clonelord and his mad followers with their dread knowledge and archaic technologies.

{Warden.} The thing spoke in a tinny voice that sounded like it was coming through a speaker.

"Messenger." Gift stiffly greeted, "Get the Brotherhood. We have the package."

The Terata nodded before it walked off, coming down a walkway as it disappeared into the distance.

With that, Gift turned to the coordinator, and waved him off, "Your job is done, coordinator. You may leave."

The coordinator nodded, skittering off into the darkness, leaving Gift to whatever was about to come. Gift exhaled and let himself go on autopilot as he walked up to the lift with the coffin in tow, resting a hand on the guardrail before he steeled himself for whatever came next and pressed the button that would allow it to ascend to the elevated platform.

As the engines that were meant to ascend it roared to life and the gears turned in their configurations, Gift allowed himself to sit down and lean on the terminal, taking his hat off as he tried to breath and calm the nausea that overcame him. Eventually, the stress won, his stomach tensed, and he scrambled over the guardrail before he proceeded to vomit out a pale stream of stomach acid that spewed from his throat and into the darkness.

After puking up the last of the corpse-starch he ate earlier today and a few minutes of dry-heaving and further emptying his stomach, Gift stumbled off the guardrail and collapsed against the terminal, panting heavily as he tried to wipe the sweat off his face. Fishing into his coat, the Warden extracted a flask that he uncapped and drank deeply from, feeling the liquid coldly slither down his throat. It was merely purified mineral water, albeit laced with vitamins and drugs, but it was enough to stop him from puking even more from the... terrible, terrible, terrible memories of this place.

Gift was not squeamish at all; he couldn't be if he wanted to be like the one whom he admired with all his heart. When he was but a boy in the noble houses of Nostromo, his brother was taken to become one of the Night Lords when he was deemed unfit due to a heart condition that his swallow mother could have easily fixed had she paid even an ounce of her wealth on him. When he heard of the actions of the Night Haunter and his Legion, something was inspired in him.

But those inspirations only came to life when he and a handful of nobles that escaped Nostromo before Konrad destroyed it, giving him the motivation to act. When he became a general after his mother turned to Chaos became Planetary Governor of Randos, a place that was almost as bad as Nostromo, she charged him with putting down rebellions that were springing up across the planet due to her decadence.

And he did. With extreme prejudice.

Use of electro whips, stoning, displaying the mutilated remains of his victims, rape, public executions, flaying, forcing them to scream by inflicting pain until they could scream no more, playing said screams over loudspeakers to the enemy and civilians, burning at the stake, impalement, and all kinds of creative methods of torture. It was like a dream come true for him, especially when he saw the horrors that Konrad would inflict. Eventually, the horrors he would inflict on the rebels was enough to cow the entire world into submission, despite of the starving masses that plagued the rungs of the cities.

However, that all came to an end when the Inquisition came knocking. Suffice to say, he abandoned his mother to be executed by the Imperium while he fled. For the sake of not being mocked for ending up on that world by accident, he pretended to be of there when Mandy presented him with Ars Goetia. And after several years, that was how he came to Mandy's service as one of her generals and especially one strong enough to witness her ascendancy on Moloch.

But the things he saw here, in the dark haunted halls of this menagerie of horrors that would give even the most depraved of the Night Lords pause. And the worst part was what was inside that cube...

By the Gods, he was not looking forward to today.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard and felt the lift reach its destination. With a tired expression of bitter resignation, Gift forced himself to stand back up, using the terminal for suppose as he put his hat back on after emptying his flask into his mouth. Swallowing it down and steeling himself for what was to come, the Warden merely inhaled before he stepped onto the platform.

It was time.

On the platform was a variety of monitors and terminals, wires and cables snaking around the floor, holograms showing various measurements and readings that Gift had not even a lick of understanding of. Running a hand down his face, the Warden turned to see the Altered Guard standing at the edge of the platform.

The lower halves of their faces were covered in respirators with the filters on both sides being bleached grey, the pupils in their eyes heavily dilated to where he couldn't see the iris or sclera, their skin discolored with darkened tainted veins, and hair cut short. Rough black metal plates were bolted into their bodies, clear tubes running from their backs to their chests and mouth pieces, breath raspy and loud, connected to tanks of bubbling combat drugs. In their arms were special Tox Spray guns, loaded with all the toxic run off that could be collected in the blackest pits of despair in the Tower. Unlike the jury-rigged Tox Sprays, these were more competently constructed, capable of sending concentrated streams of chemical death.

Still scowling, Gift steeled himself and yelled out, "Come out! I'm not in the mood!"

An amused chuckle came out from the darkness behind the Altered before a snap of his fingers caused them to part to reveal their creator.

It was Asmodeus.

The Lord of Flesh had changed his appearance yet again. His hair was fair skin colored and bleached with faint hues of pink, his chalk white skin almost resembling cracked paint to where no scars or pores could be seen, black lips that parted to reveal his neon pink teeth resting on black gums, so skinny and plastic-looking that he would have been mistaken for a mannequin. No rings on his hands this time, just black talon-like hands with pink curved claws, the entire body now somehow taller and leaner than before.

His body was covered by a black closed overcoat that reached his calves with a white fur collar and many spiked bands tightly wrapped around his arms and chest, underneath was a black leather long-sleeved shirt with spiked bracelets around the wrists, his lower half was covered by black leather pants with knee high leather cowboy boots that possessed shuriken-like spurs. Around the waist was a metal belt with a skull buckle, while the right side was held a grimoire bound in human skin with the Star of Chaos engraved in red, and the left side having pouches with several vials and canisters filled with his concoctions.

"Well, well, I see the greatest admirer of the Night Haunter is getting a little queasy." Asmodeus mocked Gift, sauntering towards him while popping his joints, "Seems like-"

"Oh, shut up and one of you get me some water." Gift snapped at him, not having the patience to put up with the man's attitude with that last part being to the Altered, who walked off to get some.

Asmodeus pouted at the interruption like a kid but shook it off. The Altered that he ordered then came back with a filled canteen of water that Gift snatched with a curt nod of thanks before he downs it all in one gulp. The Warden of the Night Geists wiped his lips with his sleeve, before he turned to the Lord of Flesh, "So, when does the Ravenlord, Bile, and the other sick fucks get here?"

Gift's answer came just a second later, much to his displeasure, as a door opened in the distance, signaled by a bright white light. A walkway then formed at the edge of the platform by a series of cables that were then covered by metal tiles that liquescently formed before the footsteps began to echo through the space around them.

The first one was none other than Fabius Bile; this body was a head taller than a normal Astartes, his white hair bound in a long scalp-lock, which only serves to render his already gaunt features more skeletal and emaciated. His eyes are black, having changed to match those of his Daemon Primarch, Fulgrim. Stretched over his Emperor's Children Power Armor was a floor-length coat of flayed human skin, taken from the bodies of the dead on Istvaan V. Here and there, it was possible to recognize the features of a face, a mouth stretched in an endless scream of agony or eyes wide with horror at the sight of the skinner's knife. On the coat was a belt of knotted sinew pierced through with metal loops, from which hung the tools of the Excruciator's art which included hooks, blades, spikes, pliers and barbs glittering with the promise of excruciating and exquisite pain.

Hooked into his back was a part sorcerous, part scientific device with arms in resemblance to a spider composed of metal with articulated knives, drills, bonesaws, syringes, and dispensers filled with daemon ichor hanging from golden skull hooks. In his right arm was the Rod of Torment, a jade rod with a thin spike attached to the lower end and a golden studded skull attached to the upper end, and in his left was the Xyclos Needler, a personally crafted injector-like weapon filled with his latest serums to test on his latest victims by firing needles laced with his serums.

Asmodeus beamed as he waved at the Clonelord, "Hey, teacher!"

Bile smiled thinly at his student, "Azmodan. It truly has been a time since we last met." The two shook hands, looking like old friends.

Just then with, several of Bile's surgeon acolytes came in herding a horde of slaves bound in chains with someone cracking a whip from behind. Behind them was a woman, an Escher from Necromunda from the first glance and wielding a large electro whip that she kept cracking at the hordes towards her slaves. And behind her was a company of gene-smiths, fleshteks, and flesh shapers, all dedicated to Chaos and its effect.

The bridge then split to multiple paths around the labs, letting the company descend into the floors where quickly forced their slaves to work. Several diminutive serfs came to Bile's side, holding up a massive casket, chains rattling as they set it down. Gift took a canteen from another of the Altered and gulped down whatever was in this one as he mentally prepared himself for whatever nightmare was in store tonight.

Then the clanking footsteps of another being came into focus as the warden turned to see another man coming. It seemed to a typical Warsmith of the Iron Warriors, however the silver arm of Necrodermis immediately gave them an inkling of their identity.

"Honsou! What's up, buddy?!" Asmodeus waved to the Warsmith who merely gave an annoyed look.

"Asmodan." Honsou replied curtly, walking up to Bile as the two merely traded a glance.

"Why do they call you Asmodan?" Gift asked Asmodeus, who merely grinned at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" The scientist mocked which only made Gift frown more.

And to his displeasure, that nightmare came in the form of the last man to enter.

The last man was clad in a garment composed of several jagged metallic plates in the polymerized shape of tight-fitting robes of a Plague Doctor during the Black Plague with that of a trenchcoat that reached the ankles. A furred collar of black was around the neck and chest, in the V-shaped opening on the chest showed a scarlet shirt and tie with an Iron Cross pin. The head was covered by a black leather mask resembling a raven with red tinted lenses, a wide brimmed leather hat with a spiked red band, and a leather spiked choker around the neck with a raven skull pendant.

The masked one exhaled and shifted his pendant, seemingly clicking it like a stopwatch. Suddenly, the man seized briefly, his posture straightening tightly before smoke billowed from his eyes, when they were abruptly smothered and warped into orbs of pure whiteness.

A dark, malicious aura issued from him, body moving almost liquescently, fingers twitching and clutching randomly as if whatever possessed him was testing the new body it was now inhabiting. The monster then turned to Bile, who flinched but it was only visible to transhuman eyes, its movements too smooth and too graceful, the subtle sounds of beating raven wings.

"Fabius, Asmodan, Honsou, Warden." The grinding and gravelly voice that issued from the possessed did not come from the mouth, but more like a thought that was warped to be made audible.

The four flinched at the voice, the latter two more visible than the former, though Asmodeus quickly relaxed while Gift struggled to remain composed. Bile and Honsou's features were schooled and greeted the possessed thing before them.

"Ravenlord."

Corax nodded, before the pale eyes that floated in its skull turned to the casket and coffin on the platform. "Is this it?"

"Yes, just like you ordered, sir." Gift answered, motioning to the red coffin by him, "Safe and contained."

"Good." The monstrous thing born from the Raven Guard Primarch echoed as his 'eyes' took in the coffin, "Open it up."

"My lord, ay I ask why I am here again?" Gift queried from the Ravenlord as he adjusted his tie, trying and failing to show some poise at all of this, "I am more of a general then a scientist."

"You are here because I wish for you understand, Pharos." Corax replied, Gift flinching at the use of his first name and again when the pale orbs that acted as eyes for the possessed thing turned to him, "I wish for you to understand the consequences of failing me."

The warden felt his throat gulp without his control, sweat pouring out of his pores and moistening his uniform, his eyes firmly trained on Corvus as he brushed his stolen hand on the crimson coffin. Gift's Witch-Sight caught sight of tendrils of black slithering around the spiritual barriers of whomever was trapped inside the coffin, only to recoil when they touched the fiery edges of the occupant's soul.

"Look, can we please get this over with?" Gift asked rather urgently, looking at the labs with an expression of pure disgust, "This place makes the blood curdle in my veins."

The Ravenlord did not reply but motioned for the serfs to do so as he begrudgingly acquiesced the general's request. Several serfs came to the sides of the coffin, their organic prehensile paws replaced by mechanical six fingered hands before the fingers unfurled into several thin jagged key-like lines that they then inserted into the ports of the coffin.

A series of whirls and whines followed as the detonation mechanisms for the Phospex bombs were disengaged, and then a hiss as the coffin slowly unsealed and opened.

White mist hissed and spilled out as the lid slowly opened, letting the group see what was inside. Inside was a man with surprisingly clean but short bright red hair and a slight five o clock shadow, seemingly 22 years old, 6'5 feet tall, clad only in a pair of slacks tore at the knees. The floor of the coffin had a pool of inch deep blood, his hands over his chest in the aquila salute with a golden necklace that possessed an Imperial aquila pendant wrapped around the thumbs.

The other scientists blinked at the sight of the man, the more corrupted serfs hissing and skittering back at the sight of the Aquila.

"Uh, what?" The Escher fleshtek blinked as she came close to the coffin, her eyes wide at the (admittedly handsome) crimson haired man, "Who's this?"

"He's one of the Emperor's Acolytes." Bile began, staring down at the man asleep in the crimson coffin, "A transhuman crafted by the hand of that ape Mojo, and perfected by the Emperor's design. He is to be harvested for his precious genes and used for Lord Vashtorr and Corax' armies."

"Indeed." Corax comes closer to the unconscious body of the Acolyte, brushing the needle like claws that grew from its fingertips against his cheek, "I will harvest his genes, and create my unstoppable army. He will be the ground of which my own Primaris will blossom." The Ravenlord then turns to the scientists, who flinched at his gaze through this body, "Hook him up. I want every last drop of his blood harvested."

He began to seemingly float across the floor, the legs of the body he was 'waring' obscured by smoke and liquid blackness, disappearing as it ascended the stairs to another level of the area. With him gone and the dark shadow he cast lifted; the group collectively took a breath of relief, like the chains that used to restrain a monster were reattached.

"Alright, everyone, let us begin." Bile began as he snapped his fingers. The serfs immediately scuffled over to the coffin, slowly raising the unconscious Acolyte out and into the air, carrying his still form to the other side of the platform. Several other creatures in the dark quickly worked as he was sat down on an operating table, footfalls on the metal grated floors echoing as they prepped the machines for DNA harvesting. Never once did the man ever stir from his deep slumber, not a flinch as they dug needles into the corners of his eyes when they could not penetrate his skin, nor a jerk as they slowly wrenched tubes into his nostrils and mouth.

However, to their surprise, the Acolyte suddenly puked out a gout of blood that splashed on his chest and hands, spitting out the tube that they inserted. But more surprise followed as the blood seemed to... dance, for lack of a better term, around his body, slithering across his skin as screaming faces were vaguely visible in its crimson liquescence. Just as it roiled, Bile and his student were taken aback when a final face appeared.

In the puddle of blood, was the face of Sanguinius.

It stared at the both of them impassively, eyes like white orbs of death boring into them like lances. Suddenly, the face of Sanguinius twisted into a sneer before it disappeared and slowly slithered up his chest and throat, climbing his jaw and chin before it slipped past his lips and fell into his mouth. The rest of the splatter of blood slowly slithered through his body and down his throat, before the last drop disappeared down his throat, not even leaving behind a speck of red.

Bile and Asmodeus looked at each other in surprise, while Gift and Honsou gaped at the sudden appearance of the Angel's face.

"Sanguinius..." Bile put a hand to his mouth when he recognized the face. Honsou was speechless, his expression set to one of utter disbelief, while the other crones and creatures around them shared his expression as their gazes were affixed to the Acolyte.

"Wait, there's blood still in the coffin!" Gift yelled as some of the other Chaos scientists came over to the coffin, seeing the inch deep layer of blood that roiled and swirled in the surface that seemed to growl at them as they grew closer.

"Could it be the blood of Sanguinius?" The Escher inquired as she pondered at seeing him still asleep, "Is that stuff like ultra-hallucinogenic?"

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow before he put a single clawed finger to the eyelid of the crimson haired man, pushing up to reveal one of the eyes. It was not moving rapidly, but the pupil was dilated to the extent that the crimson iris was barely visible, more like a ring of faded red around a pool of black.

"Oh, yeah." Asmodeus let out a laugh as he confirmed it, before he produced a rather crude collar and opened it, "He is tripping ultra balls right now. Might be a while until he snaps out of it."

Little did anyone notice, but Bile quickly went to the coffin, seeing the layer of blood that was still extant before he unsheathed his Needler. Thrusting the needle into the pool, it quickly supped the blood of Sanguinius into an empty container in the machine, filling it swifty before he quietly hid it in a pocket in his coat when it was full.

---

Elitras felt almost like he was swimming in a red muteness for the first few minutes of this sleep, floating on a bed of blood, not able to move, not able to talk, not even able to think. He didn't know how long he was asleep, feeling like he was tittering to the edge of either slipping into the Warp or remaining there in the dark redness forever.

Suddenly, there seemed to be something that pierced his brain.

And then the visions came to him.

The feeling of sand and sunlight on his skin, the sky orange or red like the burning flames, the smell of burning fire in his nostrils, and blood in his mouth. Elitras suddenly found himself standing, his feet on burning sand, the wind in his hair, the burning feeling on fire on his face. The blazing sun burning down on his face, even as he put a hand to his eyes to shield them from the intense light before they widened in recognition when he found himself on a jagged cliff, overlooking the vast desert before him.

"I know this place..." Elitras whispered, his eyes wide as they took in a sight that they hadn't seen for a time.

Suddenly, there was the sound of someone breathing.

It was a boy, of an age that he could not determine, not adolescence, not adult. His hair was golden like the rays of Terra's sun, dressed in the fashioned hides of various mutated beasts, a musculature unlike that of a man twice his age. But that was not what stole it his breath.

What left him bereft of speech was the twin angelic wings white as porcelain resting on his back.

"You..." The whispery, echoing voice of the Angel issued from his lips, "Who are you?"

He was too flabbergasted to say anything.

Elitras found himself in an old chamber, bound on chains and pressed against a wall as the psychic death howls of an angel echo through his mind. He then became aware of the black armor he was clad in, unable to move or speak, not even able to see. Something thrashed in his mind like a rapping at the base of his skull, slowly eating at the gates of his brain.

And then a voice came.

"The oldest legends tell of the noble Sanguinius, sire of the Blood Angels. They tell of his grace and beauty; his love of humanity; his pure soul and unwavering loyalty to the Emperor. Some claim that he had the power of prophecy, that his eye saw along the voiding tracks into the future. It is even maintained that he foresaw the terrible things to come and was aware of his own doom long before the Emperor's realm was shaken to its foundations by the treacherous Warmaster. If this is true, then Sanguinius' acts are even more selfless because of it."

"Brave Sanguinius faced the Chaos Warmaster in his lair, when that foul beast was at the height of its powers. Even before he was imbued with the false energies of the Dark Gods, the traitorous Fiend was all but unstoppable. Yet, knowing this, noble Sanguinius still met it blade to blade, eye to eye. When the Treacherous Serpent whispered promises of glory and strength in his ear, Sanguinius did not listen. Even as the Great Traitor was poised on the brink of infernal victory, the Lord of the Blood Angels was not swayed, though he knew it would cost him his life. Like all true servants of the Emperor, the Noble Angel knew that his soul would be forever with the Emperor; a reward far greater than any in this mortal world."

"And so it was that they fought - the Angel and the Beast. Titanic must have been that struggle, between those two gods amongst men. Long must they have rained blows upon each other, until it seemed that the life of the universe itself hung in the balance. And yet, for all his glorious might at arms, and his noble and pure mind, Sanguinius was bested. The despicable trickeries of Chaos were his undoing. But at that last moment, even as the blade of death waited to strike him, Sanguinius would not turn from the path of Light. Thus, it was that the noble Sangunius, Lord of the Blood Angels, passed from this world. He who was everything a man should be was taken from us by the Darkness. A thousand times a thousand years of lamenting will never atone for our loss."

"Therefore, remember proud Sanguinius, young acolytes, when you are faced with hardship. When the armour of your faith is buckled and torn, see in your mind that magnificent hero. Think upon his deeds and be humble, for his like will never walk the galaxy again."

Suddenly, he felt the chains slip as his sight was returned...

And he saw himself there.

The Vengeful Spirit. It's walls and decorations warped into bleeding blackness with eyes and mouths of screaming crimson. Sons of Horus and Custodes slaughtering each other, blood flying everywhere as globs of red slowly passed by his eyes, the feeling of ash on his skin, and the pain of a thousand godly battles echoing inside him.

And then he saw HIM.

HORUS.

He was in sight, holding his maul and his Talon crackling with crimson power while he was grinning a monster's grin.

Suddenly, Elitras found himself clutching the Spear of Telesto in a golden armored hand. And just then, a monstrous need for revenge blossomed inside of him like a blazing fire that could scorch the skies and blast the earth.

A scream echoed out his mouth as he shot towards the Warmaster, the Spear reared back for a strike, his face a roar of vengeance. Horus' grin only widened as he readied Worldbreaker for a swing, the gap closing in fast as the two met in a blast of psychic power.

And then...

Elitras' eyes fluttered open before he was beheld a darkness in place of a ceiling, feeling the back of his chest and limbs on cold apathetic metal. He could barely move his fingers, much less his limbs or head, not that he could regardless as he felt clamps of metal around his wrists, waist, and ankles. Pain surged in his eyes before it suddenly ceased as something popped out of his sockets.

He felt himself breath again, inhaling deeply before he devolved into rancid coughing that ceased as swiftly as it came. Tears of blood came down from his eyes that staunched instantly, red swimming in his vision that spilled away like rivers. He managed to crane his head up, details fuzzy but he could see that there were lights and other shapes moving around in the dark.

The Acolyte tried to summon his eyebeams, but red only flickered in his eyes, petering out before it even left his eyes. It was then that he noticed there was a pressure on his neck, like that of something on and under his skin. A twitch of his eye, and he saw what could be called a collar around his neck, seeing small needles dug into his skin, likely connecting to his nerves to paralyze him.

"Oh, great..." Elitras groused as he tried to get a read on wherever he was.

"I don't understand it." He heard a voice come to him, ringing still in his ears, "We've drained at least ten men's worth of blood from him, and he still hasn't died of blood loss or gone into any kind of attack!"

Elitras blinked again, his eyes turning to the source of the noise, squinting as he noticed something that he never saw before. A trio of shapes, two like Astartes and the last like a normal man, stood at a tank filled with a ruby substance, blood likely or... maybe what was once blood. Yet, as the haziness faded, he saw the swaying coat of flayed skin on purple and golden power armor.

A gasp that issued from his throat, but it seemed to alert them from their task at hand. However, just as he saw their heads turn, Elitras collapsed back onto the table, pretending to still be asleep so that he would not be subjected to whatever torturous things they had in mind.

But unfortunately for him, he felt Ceramite covered fingers grasp his head while one of them forced his eye open.

Bile was staring at him, seeing his pupil contract in response to the light shined on his eye. The Clonelord gave a satisfied huff, before he began to say, "I see you're finally awake, boy."

Elitras didn't flinch, even when he saw Honsou come into view, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream whenever they would subject him to whatever horrid experiments cooking in their minds.

The blurs seemed to slowly disappear as a creature that seemed akin to a beast in human skin approached him like a hungering predator, watching and waiting before disappearing when his eyes darted to the side. Then he saw another man, dressed in a black uniform and peak cap, looking at him with wide black eyes. And another man that looked like something out of a death metal cover.

He shook off those concerns as he assessed his situation. How was he still alive? He remembered the Blood Angels feeding on him to where it was a small miracle had any flesh on his body or internal organs in his chest. He knew about the traitor others of the timeline where Guilliman rebelled instead of Horus, but the blood that he drank had no taint. He knew because he could sense taint, even while in the Warp.

Another blur came to his eyes, coming closer and closer until a whiteness then came to one eye and then the other. He began blinking and blinking, his eyes adjusting to the brightness as it cleared before he saw another man came into view.

"Where am I?" Elitras' lips and larynx acted against his will, his scarlet eyes lazily darting around the room, "What is this place?"

None of them said anything, indeed, they suddenly went silent before they moved aside as someone came through. The man was the most horrid thing that Elitras had ever witnessed; almost like it was a million Pariahs fused to one being, the air swimming like an ocean of black, the metal on the ground tarnishing with every footstep, unseen screaming faces burning in his ears and eldritch fog slithering in his head.

"What are you?" Elitras' mouth said against his will, eyes refusing to blink as the dark face of the creature came closer and closer, the cold fingers of death seemingly sinking into his skin when it was inches away from his face.

"I am the Drinker of the Abyss." The thing began, the cold growing like the reaper presses the tip of his scythe into his throat, "I am the Black Pervier of the Warp. I am the Lord of Ravens. I am Corvus Corax."

Elitras' eyes went wide with horror and terror, his blood running cold but something else seemed to burn inside him, forcing the cold back as it seemed to be a new shield. Corvus seemed to notice this as a hand of liquescent black brushed above the skin of his face, feeling the Acolyte squirm at the cold pricking on his forehead. A monster's growl bubbled from Corax's throat before he withdrew his fingers.

"Ready it." Corvus growled at another group, "I want every last ounce of his will to defy crushed."

Eiltras wondered what he was taking about since he didn't see anyone outside of the dark smoke that seemed to surround them. Suddenly, there came a tapping and skittering in the dark, as it came closer, he seemed to tense and seethe. It was a gathering of Gene-Smiths, fleshteks, and flesh-shapers, all scrambling towards other walkways that he then saw around the area.

Craning his head, Elitras choked as a gasp attempted to escape his throat.

Behind him was a 3-story sized cube composed of some black material. Not Blackstone, it was too smooth and lustered, the blaring single light in the massive room lightly reflecting off the obsidian like substance that composed this cube. It was then that Elitras noticed that the edges of the cube had hair-thin spaces that divided it into several parts, where he saw large truck sized gears under a mess of train-sized tubes that pulsed with contents that he couldn't see.

Then it hit him, this was a cage.

But a cage for what?

Suddenly, one from the horrid group came to him. It was an Escher; a ceramite tank top with the usual yellow replaced with black while a red Star of Chaos on the right breast, black leather pants with knee high heeled boots wrapped in spiked bands and spikes knee guards. Around her waist was a belt lined with vials containing various concoctions and alchemical grenades with a skull buckle, and similar belts around the thighs, a leopard loincloth, and shuriken spurs like Doomrider's. On her upper right arm was a black spiked band, and on her left forearm was a gauntlet with nails driven in. Her face was crisscrossed with black markings resembling scars with black eyeshadow and lipstick, half shaven emerald hair, and fiery yellow eyes burning into him.

"Who are you?" Elitras asked defiantly.

"Call me Alma." The Escher fleshtek grinned as she came up to him, the shuriken spurs of her boots clicking with each step, "And I just need a little prick from you."

Before he could react, she drew an injector of similar design to Bile's Needler and jammed it into the corner of his eye. Elitras let out a yelp before he felt the blood slowly leave his body and fill with empty container. She ripped it out of his socket harshly, nearly pulping his eye before it was suddenly knitted back together in many small red branch-like tentacles.

Elitras blinked again as the sight returned to his healed eye before he noticed them moving another casket in front of the edge of the platform. They slowly opened it as they turned the table that he was strapped to so that he would face it, before he saw the contents of the casket.

It was a 12-year-old boy with shaggy brown hair, blue eyes, and oddly buck teeth. He was clad in rags, caked in dirt and grime, his eyes having a dead almost lusterless look, barefoot, and covered in ill healed slashes. They forced him to stand after they had removed him from the casket, not disobeying his masters as they nudged him to the edge.

"What's going on? What are you going to do to that little boy?" Elitras demanded from them, but none of them answered as Alma came to a console near Gift who merely stepped away with a snide stare before she inserted the injector into a port. The sample of blood that she had taken was dispensed into the machine, becoming visible as it flowed through a clear thin tube that descended down into the darkness as his eyes followed.

Before he could react, the rockstar-like man rested an elbow on his shoulder, ripping Elitras' eyes away from the tube and to the purple eyes of the man. The man grinned widely as he then spoke.

"Buckle up, big boy." Asmodeus grinned as he ran his talons across Elitras' forehead, not splitting the skin but leaving pain to shoot through his skin, "Because you're about to see a show." The acolyte stared at him before the scientist called out to the other slave workers, "Open it up, boys!"

The other menials and servitors that the group had nodded before their cogitators began to beep and whirl while the non-servitor watched as steam hissed out of the edges of the cube. The sounds of gears beginning to turn echoes through his ears, soon followed by the sounds of fluids flowing, meat squishing like the inside of a meatgrinder, before moaning and groaning echoed as the front of the cube began to split open and reveal its contents as several headlight lit up above them.

(Warning: If you hate a certain creation of Honsou's from the novel Dead Sky, Black Sun, skip to the next bolded words)

(Fallout 1 OST - Followers' Credo)

It was a kind to that of a nightmare of that even the most horrid of memories could not conjure.

What was revealed was a building sized mount of flesh, hundreds or thousands of men and women melted into a screaming and wailing pile of biomass that heaved and pulsed like a heartbeat. Thousands of flailing limbs grasped out at the air, hundreds of burnt featureless faces attached to masculine and feminine bodies squirming and spasming in agony, saber-fang maws snapping and issuing screams, eyes rolling in skulless sockets and wreathed in visible torture. The base of the abomination was bound, and judging by the burn scar welts, welded in an open box of adamantium, with tubes and cables running under and into the thing, too far away for the flailing limbs of the thing to reach.

Odd, elongated worm-like shapes and barb-like spikes bulged against the skin, suppurating and drooling mouths issuing unholy words that were drowned out by a symphony of screams and wails. Some sockets were crying blood, some limbs ended in hands with too many or too few fingers or scythe-like blades, the yawning maws of teeth scratching and cutting through the skin. Other weird fluids and formulas roiling in the glazed over eyes, sometimes spilling out and mixing with the tears of blood.

By the base of the abomination, several thousands of Baneblade sized container filled with a variety of mixtures and concoctions of alchemical origin, the tubes connecting to them unloading their contents into the mass of melted bodies. Several alveoli-like sacs hung on the ceiling on the various bars and rails, thick pink flesh expanded and contracted as they forced air through the thin tubes of flesh that hung down and connected to the base. The visible gears kept turning, forcing more of the cube to part, revealing writhing veins and pseudopods while weird fluids leaked from stabled shut wounds that appeared at the base.

The look of utter wide eyed and slacken jawed horror on Elitras' face was worth a million words.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to another console on another walkway across from the one he was on. Honsou was holding a clear jar filled with a dark red liquid and two odd spherical objects, carrying it with him as he came to a cogitator connected what appeared to be a delivery tube that was wedged into the heaving mass of flesh.

It was then that he recognized the two objects in the container with a flash of his X-Ray vision; they were Progenoid Glands. His eyes then reluctantly turned back to the base of the thing, seeing all the chemicals they were pumping into it. This thing was clearly meant for... something. But what?

Suddenly, the coldness returned as he felt the Ravenlord touch his shoulder.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Corax queried, not making Elitras turn to him from the terror that was surging through him.

"Yes, beautiful. The most amazing thing I've ever seen." Elitras prayed that his words didn't come off as sycophantic or sardonic, but he answer came when Corvus snickered lightly.

"I'm pleased that you agree." The Ravenlord replied, not making it known if he knew that the acolyte's words of agreement were false, "When Honsou told me of his experiences with Uriel Ventris, I simply had to apply my genius to such a concept. The volume of warped, filleted, pulped, and sifted flesh in tandem with my father's genecraft. I call it, the Daemonculus."

"So..." Elitras began, pausing as if the words were refusing to come out of his mouth before he forced himself to continue, "What does it do?"

Corvus simply chuckled, the sounds like a million cawing ravens and birds of prey circling around a dying beast, before stating while pointing to the child at the edge of the walkway, "Watch."

Elitras reluctantly turned his gaze to the small child standing by the edge as a steel platform rose from the ground. Just as the child was nudged onto the platform by his masters, a flabby section of the Daemonculus parted, revealing a diamond shaped mouth with a thick pale spiked tentacle slicked with drool slithering out towards the boy. Just as it did, Elitras caught something from the corner of his eye, seeing the container filled with the progenoid glands be emptied into another tube that flowed into the Daemonculus.

The realization was like that of a Power Hammer striking him in ribs.

"Yes." Corax replied, reading his thoughts in an instant, "Gene-Seed treated with your genes. Are you ready to see the results?"

As the thick flabby and phallic tentacle began to curl around the child, Elitras averted his eyes, unable to look at the fate that was about to befall the boy. Corax did not attempt to stop him, not caring as he watched in rapt attention.

The tentacle wrapped around the child, who did not even react as he was lifted off the ground. Elitras screwed his eyes shut, not seeing the mouth widen and the tentacle slowly retract, dragging the boy into its stomach as drool, blood, and other weird fluids leaked out while wet gurgling noises issued out and pink flesh heaved inside its maw. The boy still possessed an empty expression as the tentacle retracted him into its innards, not flinching as his feet brushed against the wet flaps of the maw and scraping his skin on their teeth.

As the boy was halfway in the Daemonculus' mouth, the innards parted to reveal an almost womb-like organ that opened, unveiling a series of mechanical tubes lined with dozens of barb-covered needles. Mist and steam hissed from inside as the white worm-like veins tensed and filled with weird fluids, the maws issuing furnace heat, the sloshing liquids like spilling lava. Sounds of a rumbling stomach gurgled as the needles sifted around, going at angles as they aimed to strike like the stingers of a Catachan Devil.

Just as the boy was in the horrid organ, the dark needles were driven into him at every angle before it slammed shut before a scream could even be issued.

The silence that echoed on was deafening, so much to that Elitras slowly opened his eyes, letting the sight of the closed maw greet him once more. The others were in a frenzy around him, typing in commands and monitoring vitals and cell processes as whatever the Daemonculus was doing. He noticed that Asmodeus had been laughing, but it was muted by his hand on his mouth. And another look had him catch a glimpse of Gift, who was somehow even paler, looking like he was close to puking but held it in through sheer willpower.

"So... what now?" Elitras asked no in particular.

"Now? Just keep watching." Asmodeus comments, looking close to the Daemonculus as it writhed and bulged with the lifeform inside of it. Another side of the cube suddenly lit up as currents of emerald ethereal were ripped into a Warp Drive that Elitras noticed as it burned brightly. Sounds of sucking erupting as he saw several of the containers void their contents into the Daemonculus, causing it to bloat as the visible veins suddenly were alight with emerald.

A disturbing churning sound like that of a meatgrinder came out before there was an alarm. Elitras' eyes turned to the source, revealed to be a cogitator that one of the serfs was manning. The screen turned red as lights began flashing and data presumably began scrolling across the screen.

Asmodeus seemed surprised at the suddenness of this as he asked, "What's going on?"

"It... It appears to have completed its growth, sir." One of the serfs noticed to a dumbstruck Asmodeus, who walked over the cogitator and looking at the data unfolding before him and a curious Corax who liquescently slithered to the screen.

Both seemed dumbstruck as the suddenness of the growth, before the mouth that had swallowed the boy began to bulge.

"It's coming out now!" Alma yelled out, as the lips of the mouth began to part, stunning even Bile and Honsou who jogged towards the edge of the platform to see for themselves.

The mouth slowly expelled a white translucent sac filled with fluid that then flopped onto the cold platform, coating it with all kinds of odd juices and weird concoctions. The amnionic sac had been stretched as something had grown inside it, something many times larger than just a regular Astartes and surrounded by green culture fluid writhed in its horrid womb, seemingly too weak to break it on its own.

Elitras somewhat took comfort in the shocked expressions of the mad scientists around him, but it was bellied by the realization born worry at the fact that this was something they most definitely did not expect. Servitors immediately raced to the birthing platform, their mechadrendrite arms ending in sharp serrated blades immediately dug into the thin pale sac, the tear immediately spilling emerald colored syrupy fluid onto the dirty metal floors and into the drains.

A deep bestial moan escaped from the sac as the servitors forced the tear to expand, ripping through the sac and exposing the thing inside as the Warpsmiths and their group of gene-smiths, fleshteks, and flesh shapers raced towards the platform, leaving Elitras where he was bound. A twitching skinless hand then emerged from the sac and grasped the guardrails while the other servitors tried to lift it to its feet. As the brotherhood of the mad arts backed away, the monster's full form was revealed for all to see as Elitras stared on with wide eyes and an agape jaw.

It was many times larger than a normal Astartes, as massive as Tyberos the Red Wake but possessed no semblance of an epidermis, exposing knotted crimson muscles that leaked oily fluids, exposed mandible with jagged disjointed teeth, bulbous scarlet eyes that darted incessantly, and a pale cartilage nose that deformed viscously with breath. Its muscles pulsed as its spine seemed to be jutting out with extra ridges on each vertebra, its limbs well-proportioned with its muscular torso with spine ridges on the ribs, growths of bone extended from the knuckles like claws, and white-hot steam bellowing out of its nostrils as it breathed.

The others of the Raven Lord's brotherhood all looked at each other with honest surprise, like they weren't expecting such a development. Corax however placed a hand on whatever he had for a chin as he mutters, "Fascinating..."

Just moments after, several of the servitors led the giant to another platform that rolled into the area, helping it grasp the guardrails on it before they gently forced it to sit down, letting the slick oily fluids collect on the ground as they forced him onto the platform. The creature's chest heaved as it issued steam and green spittle from its mouth, the bones in its shoulders popping as it tries to make itself more comfortable, seemingly not experiencing the mind shattering pain of having no skin.

(End)

(Done. You may resume reading)

As they shunted it away, and as the cube closed, the cult of scientists came together to discuss the abnormal sight that they had just seen.

"How were its cells restructured so quickly?" Alma queried, frizzed out by the sudden occurrence.

"Imagine..." Bile quired to Honsou, who had an equal look of interest, "An army of Astartes of such size and strength being able to be produced like that of an assembly line."

"Indeed." Corax replied, the liquid darkness floating and reforming, "Subdue the Acolyte and take him to the Murder Cells. I want to unlock all the secrets of this 'Chemical X.'"

Asmodeus nodded, producing a small remote and pressed a single button. Suddenly, Elitras seized in agony as emerald lightning surged from his collar, getting a wet gurgling and choking sound to issue from his throat, getting spittle and foam to leak from his mouth before he slackened, finally unconscious.

Alma and Asmodeus came to him just as they ensured he was not able to escape or rip himself back to consciousness. When they found that he was firmly subdued, the two hooked their arms under his shoulders and heaved him up, dragging him to his fate as his toes brushed against the grated floors. And with that, he was dragged away into the darkness.

Just as Corax followed them, Honsou then turned to Bile before he said, "You expect the boy to be an asset?"

"If given proper maintenance." Bile replied, smirking thinly at the possibility of the new Astartes' gene-seed, "He may provide the ground of which other things of mine can grow from."

"Hmm. As if I thought you did this just to prove yourself to Corax." Honsou replied, "Beyond that opening are my enemies. Behind me are warriors who would happily turn their weapons on me if they thought they could get away with it."

"The monsters that you call friends?" Bile retorted, still smiling thinly, "And yet you find yourself here in this brotherhood of the Arkifane."

"Do you really think I'm doing this to try and impress anyone?" The Warsmith remarked to the Clonelord, "I know who I am, and I don't give a greenskin's fart what anyone thinks of me."

Bile merely let out a hmph before he walked on, "Believe what you will, my friend."

Sneering at the Clonelord as he departed, Honsou then turned to the one man who hadn't left yet. The warden. He must admit that he admired the warden's professionalism and poise, as not many could possess such things when dealing in the dark things of the Warp.

"You have done admirably, Warden Gift." Honsou said before he produced a brown bag filled with what appeared to be pills of all things, "For compensation, and for the side effects of me removing Ars Goetia."

Gift extended a hand, letting the bag fall into his palm before he nodded and clipped the bag to his belt. And with that, he departed the room, leaving the warden of the Night Geists alone with the other servitors and serfs who worked on the Daemonculus cube.

The moment the Warsmith left the room, the nausea shot up Gift's throat like a spear. His feet worked against his will as he ran to the nearest ledge, shoving one of the Altered out of the way before whatever was left of his breakfast was expelled from his mouth.

He stayed there for three minutes, dry heaving and feeling someone patting him on the back. After a moment, Gift rose his head back up, his face pale and sweaty, his hat almost falling off his head, but he caught it without even looking.

"You okay man?" One of the serfs asked.

"Yeah." He choked a little, before he motioned for them to go, "Can one of you please get me some water?"

As one of them did so, the Warden of the Night Geists rested against the wall, still panting and reeling from the events that had just unfolded from his eyes.

Fucking hell, he hated kids, but not enough to do... that to them.

Running a hand down his face, Gift forcefully recomposed himself, only for a pain to shoot through his stomach and lungs. A hand pressed against his mouth before he began hacking harshly, a wetness coming onto his leather glove. After it passed, Gift retracted his hand, panting slightly and letting out a swift cough, before he saw what he just hacked out.

The palm of his gloved hand was covered in a dark violet sludge with slivers of white, thick and tumorous.

Wiping his hand off on the wall, Gift mumbled as he opened the cloth bag, "And not a moment too soon." He picked up a single capsule, clear and filled with a blue liquid. Just as the serf came back with a satchel filled with purified water, Gift snatched it before popping the pill and washing it down.

In an instant, he felt the pain begin to fade as he slid to the ground, breathing heavily before he turned to the open gate where they had dragged the man through.

"I don't envy you, sir." Gift spoke to the Acolyte, taking another sip of the satchel before staring off into the labs, looking like he was staring a thousand yards away, "I do not envy you at all."

---

11 months later...

The Murder Cells

"GET UP!"

A punch connected to the center of his face, ripping Elitras out of his sleep on the cold metal floor. He started hacking and coughing before he was struck across the face by the butt of a rifle. After that, the guard, clad in black Power Armor with white markings and wielding what appeared to be a heavily modified and jury-rigged flamer, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and forced him to his feet, and threw him to the wall, neatly causing him to fall again before he settled his footing.

"Good, that got you up." The guard sneered behind the black helm painted with white in the shape of a skull, aiming the gun at him, "Now, get out. The Warden has assigned another trial for you."

A cough ripped out from his throat before he looked at the guard. "You do know..." Elitras barely got out by his panting before he pointed to the collar, "This thing... has a built-in shocker... right?"

"I know, I just don't care." The guard retorted as he aimed at the prisoner, "Now, follow me."

Unable to use his powers due to the collar bound to his neck, Elitras complied, limping out of his cell that was empty of everything save for a toilet. They barely gave him anything close to decency: not a bed, not a mirror, not even a blanket, just a small porcelain bowl to relief himself. The only source of nutrition that they provided him was the meat of failed experiments, poorly composed Corpse Starch, or just a thick white paste that he didn't want to know it was made of.

The guard shoved him forth, not protesting as he kept walking down the cold metal and stone walls lined with steel cell doors, the screams of desperation and terror echoing through the corridors, burning in his ears like the matterless lances of pain and death. At first, the screams had been unbearable, forcing him to rip pieces of his hair out and stuff it in his ears just so that he could get whatever he could manage as a good night's sleep in here. Now, it just bored him.

They kept walking before more guards came into view. The three were identical to the one behind him, but they had more markings to their armor, taking the shape of ravens flying, tentacles and spiked mouths, eyes, or even tally marks, some of which coating across the vambraces or cuirasses in white. They were dragging out another screaming prisoner, a woman, naked and emaciated, her eyes black and bleeding as she cried out in German for mercy before she was silenced by the back of a gunstock against her jaw, before they forced her to her feet and got her moving to whatever horrid fate they had planned for her.

It was only when Elitras felt the black tsunamis bristling through the Warp that he discovered what was so valuable. An Alpha Plus Psyker whom they were attempting to corral to their fold. He dreaded what horrid fate awaited that woman.

Eventually, they turned a corner and came to a gate, covered in raven-like livery before the guard grabbed him by the neck kept him close to prevent him from escaping, keeping his lasgun trained on his head in case that he tried anything. Elitras would have been insulted by the man, if yesterday hadn't marked his 153rd escape attempt. Just as they got close, the guard produced a vintage looking key that he then inserted into a keyhole in a gear.

A single turn caused several of the hidden clockworks in the walls and door to begin grinding and turning, steam hissing out as he saw the two halves of the gate part and recede into the walls. A second later, when it was wide enough for him to enter, the guard kicked him the spine and got him to keep moving.

The room that they entered was a massive expanse of vats filled with emerald chemicals, boiling and bubbling with a dark malaise. He rested his hands on the railings that overlooked the massive domed area, before the guard pushed him towards the stairs. As they passed reflective walls in the middle of the descending stairs, Elitras was allowed to see himself for the first time in what seemed like a year.

Elitras was covered in a veritable menagerie of scars in varying lengths and widths, his scarlet hair now reaching his shoulders and draping onto his chest, his goatee now a full beard, while was the only clothing he was clad in was a burgundy loincloth, exposing his well-built frame. But his physique was rather hard to appreciate with all the scars and dried blood and compounds covering his skin.

He almost flinched, but just frowned at the state he was in. At least he was alive.

His thoughts were interrupted by several hands grabbing him by the arms and chest before they dragged him up to a set of stairs, forcing him up to the edge of the vat of chemicals. There was a small moment where he could see the shapes of tubes ending in needles, before they stopped at the edge. The foul smell itched at his nose, and causing him to cough, before he heard the sounds of something mechanical descending down.

It was a mechanical tendril, composed of crude plates, servos, exposed wires, and ending in a three-pronged claw, before it projected a green holographic image. It was only a shadow in the shape of a face with a single pair of white slanted eyes.

He barely heard a buzz through the guards' helmets, as if Corax or whomever was on the other side was relaying orders to them. Before he had a chance to act, they connected a cable to the back of his collar before they then pushed him to his knees. The fumes began stinging his eyes, watering them before they forced a plastic rebreather on the lower half of his face and then shoved him in the vat.

It was akin to jumping into a pit of promethium, skin burning as blinding pain shot through every inch of his body, spasming while wounds were burned open and blood began seeping into the lake of chemicals. Suddenly, the bleeding was staunched as he felt the Blood of Sanguinius attempt to heal him, forcing his nerves to calm even when the pain of his skin bursting and healing reached unbearable levels. Some of his hair seemed to liquify and break off, while the remaining follicles either were burnt out of their pores or slowly attempted to grow back.

The caustic liquid was unrelenting as he struggled to breathe while the blood vessels in his eyes burst, fingers bending and cracking against his will. His nerves kept fraying as it felt like his skin was being flensed off, his lungs filling with fluids that his body attempted to expel through his throat. His sight and hearing soon followed, the acid eating at his eardrums and eye flesh, feeling blood leak out as his body tried to heal them.

When he felt the pain intensify to mind-numbing levels, something bound themselves to his wrists, wrapping them tightly before the guards pulled him free from the vat.

Just as they ripped his head out of the chemical bath, Elitras coughed out before they slammed him back to the cold steel floor, grasping the barbed chains as they had bound around his wrists. The rebreather came free, lips and teeth melting away as blood and fluid spilt freely from his mouth. Ocular fluid and blood began gushing from his eyes and ears respectively before he felt them slowly rebuild.

The rest of his skin was practically ripped from his body with blood and other oily fluids leaking out and hardening, coming free as his skin slowly began to regrow. A feeling of nausea then ripped into him as he expelled a stream of bile and fluid out of his mouth, splashing to the floor before he collapsed into the pool of his filth. As the pain finally subsided and his sight and hearing returned, they yanked him up, forcing him to stand on his weakened feet.

These was just one of the several thousand tests that they had forcibly subjected him to. Every test was more akin to torture; exposed to doses of radiation that would have killed a human in seconds, drowned in concentrated chemicals, injected with man-made viruses designed to rewrite the genetic code. Repeated vivisections without anesthesia, pumping him with weird fluids, ripping off his fingers and toes before feeding them to him as they regrew. Sticking adamantium needles in every part of his skin, ripping the bones from his limbs, draining spinal fluid, and ripping out some of his teeth and nerves. And all that was the stuff that he didn't mentally suppress.

At some point, he didn't even know if they called them tests anymore.

Each test had been pushing his newfound healing factor to its limits, growing back his fingers and organs, pushing out poisons out of his veins, and pulling his bones back together. The reason for why he still drew breath was the genes of Sanguinius that he had consumed so long ago.

And suffice to say, he'd been giving the guards a workout in his attempts to escape.

However, he soon learned why no one would attempt escape after his first hundred and fifty attempts; their captors had taken every measure to ensure they were as powerless as possible. No beds to hide any weapons or lockpicks, walls lined with nuggets of Blackstone to keep psykers from using their powers, cell doors that only open up via special bracelets, the only way in being teleport homers, tracking devices in the collars so that they could find them, food storages being only accessible to guards, and the list goes on.

Despite that, he remained unbroken despite everything that the Raven Guard had done, and even managing to find trinkets of information.

The place that he was currently imprisoned in, called the Tower of Nightmares by a few passing guards, was considered by many to be more impenetrable than something called the "Labyrinth of Ruin." But the monsters that kept him here were constantly having servitors and Hereteks transported in and forced to work on... something in the Murder Cells, and with each passing day, he began to notice there was a subtle desperation to these modifications.

But then there was the being that the guards mentioned more than once. Something or someone named Vashtorr.

He managed to gleam quite a surprising chunk of information from the gossiping patrols, due to the fact that he often couldn't sleep due to the constant wailings of terror from the other prisoners.

Vashtorr was not a servant of any of the four great Chaos Gods, instead maintaining his own sphere of influence and unique role within the Warp. He is the lord of the Forge of Souls, having grown powerful bartering souls with any Daemon or damned individual that seeks his services in the acquisition of Daemonic weaponry. Other are simply enslaved to his will and forced to join the ranks of his own armies.

Unlike most of his kind, Vashtorr rarely lies or conceals his true objectives. He establishes explicit contracts with clear terms and conditions. He has kept the wrath of The Four at bay due to the usefulness of his Daemon Engines to the armies of the Great Game, serving as its premier arms dealer. However, he is far from defenseless, and sports his own host of powerful techno-daemonic monstrosities. His activities have nonetheless attracted the ire of other Daemons, most notably Be'lakor.

Despite all he has achieved, Vashtorr has grown dissatisfied with his status. He seeks to become a fifth Chaos God in his own right, usurping and/or assimilating Hashut. To that end, he seeks to fulfill a prophecy involving fragments of the mysterious Key and recently entered into an alliance with the Queen of Daemons. His proposal to the Queen initiated the construction of the Arks of Omen and the war involving them.

And apparently, he was on one of these Arks of Omen.

His thoughts were interrupted when he was kicked onto the floor, before he found himself back in his cell. They unbound his hands and then he noticed that the collar around his neck was undamaged and the cord was disconnected. He felt the collar around his neck, feeling that nothing seemed to be degraded or damaged, before he asked the guard, his voice hoarse, "Why's this thing not destroyed?"

"It's acid proof." The guard bluntly replied before they slammed the door shut, leaving him to slump on the floor.

Oh, great. The collar was waterproof, fire-proof, radiation proof, blunt force trauma proof, shiv proof, teeth proof, pick proof, and now acid proof. By the Throne, they really were pulling out all the stops to keep him from escaping.

---

The next "day"...

He had gotten a surprising amount of sleep despite the memory of the blinding pain from yesterday.

Originally, he couldn't sleep because of the screams. Then he couldn't sleep because of the trauma of the experiments. Then he couldn't sleep because of the pain.

Now, it seemed that he was so desensitized that all of that finally allowed him a good night's sleep.

What good it did now that he had woken up who knows how much time before his next 'test' and was left watching the grey shadowed ceiling in soul crushing boredom. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, Elitras forced himself to stand on his aching bones, pacing around his empty cell in a desperate attempt to alleviate the boredom that was flooding his brain.

Running a hand across a wall as while humming to himself in boredom, he continued to pace around the room before he stopped a moment later and put his hands on his hips and looked to the door, wondering when they would just get here already.

And it was only then that he realized what he just thought.

"Oh, great, now I'm looking forward to the tests." Elitras mumbled as he facepalmed in utter disbelief of himself, "I'm fucking losing my Throne-damned mind."

Thankfully, the door to his cell opened up, revealing the guards as they raised their guns. Before they could say anything, Elitras put his hands up and uttered, "I'm up."

"Good." One of them, a female this time, answered before she grasped him by the collar, "Buckle up this time, freak. We're going on a field trip."

Elitras blinded. Okay, that was new.

They jerked him out of his cell and forced him to walk, before he then noticed that something was different. It was quiet.

The Murder Cells were never quiet. In fact, he'd been so used to the noise that the quiet was kinda alien to him at this point.

"W-What's going on? Why's it so quiet?" Elitras turned to the guards, whom were marching silently.

"A special event." Was all that they said, before they came to another pair of flat doors. These were rather dull, and resembled merely the gates to another hallway before one of them pulled out a small device and issued a black light on the doors. Immediately, a small XIX was revealed in white, before it faded as they shut it off and then forced it open.

It was then that a blind fold was forced over his eyes, and then forced him to walk for several meters before he was forced to be still. What felt like a few minutes passed, while he heard several mechanical sounds before they shoved him into what appeared to be a tram-like car, with the footfalls of the guard signified them entering it and the hiss of mechanical doors closing.

Whatever they were in then began moving, sliding against a rail before it slowly began accelerating.

One of them forced their foot on his chest, keeping him pinned to the floor while they rushed on. There he stayed, pinned as they sped on in silence. All the while, he heard things like running water, machinery whirling, and other sounds that seemed to be akin to meatgrinders being fed millions of men worth of meat.

It stayed like this for hours, burning him with dread as his mind turned inward, thinking of what could possibly be awaiting him at the end of this track.

Just as he was beginning to contemplate it, Elitras felt his blood go cold as the tram suddenly began to stop. They forcibly grasped him by the collar and yanked him to his feet, before a hiss and whirl of machinery akin to that of a door opening, before they slowly forced him to descend a set of stairs. And the second that he got to the ground, they pulled the blindfold off, letting him see the area.

It looked akin to an abandoned junkyard on a blasted heath with innumerable mountains and mountains of machinery with dead flesh and blood of whatever dread things that Corax's factories of death had churned out, along with the ebony and emerald metal as mortar under thunderous billowing smoke clouds hiding a crimson sky. The piles of machinery akin to mountains spanned sight unknowable with the ground of which they sat the same coloration as the sky.

He suddenly became aware of the dregs and miscreants that had been chained and bound in burning chains, the flames scorching their skin and bones, applied for no reason other than to be cruel towards those they enslaved. His eyes then wandered to the expanse as he watched several thousand more ripping things out of the mountains of scrap, flowing on a line that sent them either to a furnace or to another mountain of scrap.

And it was then that he noticed several massive cages filled with the various prisoners of the Murder Cells; they all varied, but most were either psykers, mutants, mutates, or other unique individuals, all bearing scars and brands from their constant torment under the Ravenlord and his minions. They all wore the same collars as him, grasping the adamantium bars of the two-story building sized cages, all looking terrified and helpless.

There was no reason for it, it was just to be cruel. Even when some unfortunate soul was crushed underneath the rubble of one that fell down, the guards would just laugh out loud and kicked their corpses or the ones that mourned over the ones that had died. Despite his gaze, the guards behind him then forced him to walk through a bash of the butt of a rifle.

Several moments later, they came to a square grey platform imbedded in the dirt. And standing there was the Warden.

He was a gaunt creature, not like Gift, covered in a coat of raven feathers, his face was pale and with short raven hair like Corax's moral form. His eyes were black as night, having dozens of necklaces with raven skulls and charms, a black fur collar, black gloves hands, his feet covered by black boots, and by him was that same man from 11 months with a plague doctor mask with black lenses.

The Warden was something of a paradox. He was a Child of the Raven, having embraced the powers his foul blood provided him. Yet, he believed in the tyranny of the more Machiavellian Planetary Governers of the Imperium. And under the burning gaze of the Ravenlord, he would always grovel with the intention of inflicting the greatest pains imaginable.

"Elitras!" The Warden of the Murder Cells greeted him politely, "I see that you've survived yet another one of the tests Lord Corax has commissioned." He didn't respond to that, only making the Warden stare before he continued, "And because of your continued resistance against death, many of our prisoners have begun to grow... bold."

"And I care why?" The scarlet haired man replied, still unafraid of the creature before him.

The Warden merely stiffened before he continued, "Because of your unacceptable amount of escape attempts and killing several hundred guards, I have been forced to make an example of you. And because Corax has memorized everything about your genetic code, he has no more use for you. So, consider this your final test."

Before the thought could even be processed, the face of the Warden became thunderous as it was enveloped by a storm of black and white. "AND CONSIDER THIS RETRIBUTION FOR ALL THE MISERY YOU HAVE CAUSED ME!"

Elitras did not even flinch, meeting the eldritch glare with one of his own, his ruby eyes like twin red giants burning in the void. The other guards and the slaves immediately scrambled away, desperate not to get near the Warden when he was enraged. Tendrils of darkness slithered from the spaces around him, crawling towards him like the jaws of the devourer.

The two kept glaring, nether backing down from the other before the Warden seemingly calmed down, the darkness receding back into the spaces while everyone else just breathed a sigh of relief at the sign of calmness. Before any more words could be exchanged, the Warden then motioned for them to get him to the platform.

Elitras was shoved from the back by the guards, who forced him to the gray platform. Just he was forced to ascend the single step to the platform, he saw more than he had hoped; all around were massive fiery pits where either junk or bodies were thrown into its ceaseless maw as smoke rose and ash rained down. Vaguely, he could see the lines of those working dregs, starved skeletal and barely clothed, choking, burning, or crushed under the cruel weight of their own existence.

It then that he noticed that there were several of the dead that had strips of meat missing from their bodies, like they were piles of dead cows ready to be processed at a butcher's shop.

Before he could contemplate that further, suddenly, there was a sound like a jaw of iron opening. Elitras' head snapped up, looking above him and seeing a massive metal claw connected to a truly gargantuan crane. And before he had a chance to act, a truly staggering amount of debris was dropped as it opened, sending several tons of metal down on him.

"SHIT!" Elitras immediately raised his hands up instinctively, never seeing the Warden raise a remote and press a button. The collar peeped as a single green light peeped as it unlocked something.

Just as the first piece came to his palms, Elitras' transhuman strength returned, causing the debris to immediately pile on him as he held it up.

The scarlet haired man panted from the surprise as he held up the one-story tall building size pile of debris, before he gawked when he noticed he had gotten his super strength back.

"Oh, yes, forgot to say." The Warden mockingly stated, holding up the remote to show him, "Your final test is a test of strength. If you wish to stay alive, you must keep the pile above your head. However, if you do not submit to Lord Corax, I will have them increase the weight of the pile you are currently lifting. And we will continue until you either submit to me, er, Lord Corax..." He then grinned after correcting himself, "Or you die."

Elitras grunted, trying to stabilize his footing so that he can keep holding it up. When he managed to get his stand firm enough, the ruby haired warrior of the Imperium then settled on the amused form of the Raven Child.

"More weight."

The Warden hmphed, not surprised at all, before he motioned to those manning the cranes.

Another shrill sound of steel before the weight increased. It caught him off guard and nearly cost him his grip, but it was still managed to keep his footing and holding it up without much more issue. Elitras calmed his breath for a moment before he then exclaimed.

"More weight."

Another ton was dropped on him, causing his knees to pend slightly before he straightened them.

"More weight!"

Another ton of scrap and adamantium was dropped on him, this time causing a little pressure to come onto him.

"More! Weight!"

Another few tons were dropped this time, the weight actually beginning to press on him, but it was not enough to get him to stagger.

"More. Weight."

The next ton of scrap was enough to press his feet into the platform, feeling it begin to sink down on his shoulders. It was still not enough to make him fall.

"MORE WEIGHT!"

His legs nearly buckled as he felt another staggering amount of scrap be piled onto him. The pile now the size of a skyscraper, but still he held it up.

"MORE WEIGHT!"

Elitras kept yelling it, and they kept piling it onto him and increasing the pressure more and more. Several tons of scrap and detritus from destroyed war machines and battleships attempting to push him down and crush him into a pulp. It was getting harder and harder to stand, all the metal crunching and crumbling against each other, weighing down on him even more as his legs nearly began to buckle.

Despite that, his will was unbroken as he shouted again, "MORE WEIGHT!"

"Hmph, you're just as stubborn as I expected." The Warden mused, an impressed smile coming onto his horrid face, before he turned to his minions, "Double the weight of the next drop."

The guard beside him nodded before they opened communications with the crane operators. Just a minute later, it was as if a Battle Barge had been thrown on his shoulders, nearly buckling his legs again but this time, he could not straighten them. This was starting to weigh on him more and more, pressing his arms down as his head was pushed to look down from the weight pressed on his neck.

His legs were trembling, the pile atop him was too heavy for him to stand up straight. Elitras was panting, the weight pressing on his back and lungs, forcing his breath in a more quickened state. His teeth grinded on each other to the point where they began to crack, his heart beating so hard against his ribcage that it might burst out of his chest.

Before he could react, another Throneknowhowmany tons of steel was added.

This time, one of his legs gave out, forcing him to his kneeling position while the sweat practically poured from his pores. Blood then began to burst out from the pressure, his knee digging into the ground as he tried to push the veritable mountain of steel on his shoulders up. His foot was cracking, the bones in his leg breaking, wounds bursting open.

Elitras glared, feeling the blood coming out of his mouth, eyes, ears, and nose, his defiant eyes burning like ruby stars, "MORE! WEIGHT!" He bellowed even as he felt the wounds on him gushing like geysers of crimson.

The Warden smirked before he got closer to the acolyte, even as the next portion was dropped on him. Suddenly, there was a little warbling as the pieces around the Warden split off, craving a path for him to walk through, allowing him to reach the center of the mountain of metal without him touching it. He and Elitras came face to face, the former still prim and proper while the latter looked feral and ready to snap at whatever came to him like a starved beast.

"Still stubborn and loyal as ever, I see." The dark eyes of the monster glimmered as they met the ruby infernos of Elitras', before he began, "What has your loyalty gotten you? Here you are, tortured and broken, and with no reward."

That got something out the Acolyte, staring at him with burning hate filled eyes.

"Loyalty..." Elitras muttered, even as he spat out a gout of red, gazing at the Warden with no fear in his eyes, "Is its own reward..."

"I see, then here you are, dying alone. No fairy tale ending. No happy man with a loving wife. No hero slaying a dragon. That will not be you." The Raven Child then got closer, the shadows lengthening like the claws of death closing in on him, "There is only Elitras, the beaten, the broken, the man crushed by the iron fist of cruelty."

The two were then face to face, the iron around him passing through the mist like body while it rips into Elitras' skin.

"So, Elitras... I have a proposition." The Warden whispered but psychically projected it across the cages for the occupants to hear, "You keep lifting this hunk of metal and I will spare the prisoners of the Murder Cells. They aren't that bad. Just innocent men, women, and children taken from Imperial worlds. What say you now? Will you do it? Will you give everything for people you've never seen."

The Acolyte kept struggling, feeling muscles snapping and bones cracking, blood spilling under his skin as his eyes then turned to the people in the cages. They looked at him, hope and despair blooming in their eyes as they watched him struggle to stand and lift. The guards laughed incredulously, thinking that after all he had suffered, he wouldn't lift a finger for some saps.

What would he do?

The answer was obvious.

"MORE WEIGHT!" Elitras roared in the Warden's face, spewing blood out as it echoed through the junkyards, straining his vocal cords and lungs so that everyone and everything within a mile could hear him.

Silence then overtook the area, the Warden's surprised expression obvious to him due to being face to face with the man, but the silence that came from the guards and the prisoners spoke louder than any words. He felt the silencing shock of the guards at his proclamation, unable to believe that he would still hold his heroic ideals despite all the tests. And he felt the emotions roiling in the caged ones, somehow knowing that some of the truly touched ones has tears running down their cheeks, never once having someone lay down their life for them.

Then the weight somehow doubled, nearly slamming down on him. He let out a yell, the pain inside him multiplying exponentially as every cell in his body seemed to be under strain.

"You have my respect, Elitras." The Warden genuinely said as he saw Elitras was on his last legs, placing a misty hand on his bloodied shoulder, "When you die, I promise that the people of the Murder Cells will still be alive." He then stands up, the parts of the pile near him splitting off at his movement, "I hope they remember you."

The Warden vanished back to where his guards were, watching as the massive pile began to descend on his captive. His face was impassive, and almost saddened to see the Acolyte die.

"HE'S GONNA GET CRUSHED!" Someone yelled, not one of the slaves nor one of the Warden's guards, sounding filled with fear and coming from nowhere. It didn't matter to him; he was faltering, feeling his right knee breaking and his left tibia beginning to crack from the weight.

Elitras closed his eyes, feeling the blood vessels in his eyes burst, his arms faltering as his shoulders nearly buckle under the weight of the mountain of debris about to reduce him to paste. He was not afraid of death; he knew that he would die one day, maybe remembered in some heroic sacrifice or final stand.

But this...

He wasn't scared, having accepted that he would die one day. But then he saw them, those prisoners who watched on as he was crushed under the weight, crying out his name, men and women comforting the children as they begged him to stay alive. He knows that they loved him, he knows that they will continue on without him, but he hoped that they could remember him.

Yet as his light began to dim, more thoughts that were not quite his own began to come into his head.

"If you truly do hail from the realm that men once called hell, when you return there, tell your kindred it was Sanguinius who threw you back."

"Sanguinius. It should have been him. He has the vision and strength to carry us to victory, and the wisdom to rule once victory is won. For all his aloof coolness, he alone has the Emperor's soul in his blood. Each of us carries part of our father within us, whether it is his hunger for battle, his psychic talent or his determination to succeed. Sanguinius holds it all. It should have been his..."

"Three Legions of Marines stand to defend you, sire. All of us will unflinchingly place ourselves between you and the war's desolation. We are the greatest humans ever born – we are the flame of Humanity where the rest of the galaxy is just the spark. In centuries of warfare, against the vileness of the alien, the lies of the heretic, the foulness of the mutant, I have never known fear – but your silence terrifies me."

The angel himself standing tall and proud as the hideous screaming of the World Eaters, Night Lords, Death Guard, and Sons of Horus as they rampaged through the streets of Terra. And before him was the Daughter of Torment, belching its gargled message to the loyalists with the mutilated but still living form of Captain Idamas in its claws.

Just as it finished its message and the disparaging yells of the loyalists began to quiet, Sanguinus drew on the prodigious reserves of strength within him as he was suddenly rocketed off the floor and into the sky. The Blade Encarmine drawn as he rocketed toward the shocked Titan, who could not react in time as Sanguinius reared it back for a strike.

He pierced the void shields like they were parchment, reaching the neck of the Reaver Titan before he swung.

There was a blast of crimson before the head of the titan was sent flying in the air, the cut leaving both sides molten orange as it suddenly lost its balance. The legs immediately gave way, causing the massive war machine to fall towards the traitor lines while the angel flared his wings out and raised his sword to the skies.

Knowing the loyalists were watching, he cried out with all his rage and sorrow:

"FOR THE EMPEROR!"

No...

.

.

.

.

He can't die yet.

.

.

.

.

.

HE WON'T.

And with that, his scarlet eyes burned as bright as suns before they cooled into a burning inferno, before he let out a feral bellow of pure exertion. His broken knee began to mend before his bones began to grind against each other as he began to move, his left foot exerting so much force that the adamantium platform he was standing on began to crack while he forced his leg to move. His muscles strained more and more, threatening to rip through his skin as his fingers clutched the piece of metal they were resting, denting them as he gripped harder and harder.

The cracks in the platform began to spread, the tower began to shake as some small parts fell away, dust and detritus falling off and coating his biceps. His legs exiting their kneeling position as the weight of the Battle Barge sized tower rested on his shoulders, panting heavily and felt the Blood of Sanguinius writhing in his veins and feeding into his muscles. His eyes then turned to the Warden as his neck craned up, teeth cracking and mending from gritting them too hard.

They were all looking at him, surprised that even after all of this that he was still able to stand and fight. He was glaring at them with such intensity that it was surprising that his rage did not bend the Warp around them.

But he was not done.

He was FAR from done.

"GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

And then, with a roar akin to a monster born of pain and nobility, Elitras forced his arms up and heaved the Titan sized pile of debris high above his head for the Warden and all those tormented by the Raven Guard to see.

The other prisoners stopped their menial jobs and stared, eyes wide and jaws agape, almost like he was a light burning brightly in all the darkness that had enveloped the Tower. The caged ones watched with bated breath as he continued to lift it high, feeling his injuries heal and vanish, before an aura of burning red began to surround him like a ruby shawl of wrath.

Elitras heaved out, his breath white and hot against the freezing cold, his hands crushing the metal in his palms. His chest heaved with breath, eyes burning holes in the guards and the Warden, both of whom could only stare in horror and awe respectively.

"Amazing." The Warden whispered, too in awe to act as he watched what seemed to be a miracle.

However, his guards did not share his feelings, rage pouring out of them as they raised their weapons and began to fire, wanting to stamp out this heretic before he could inspire more hope.

They raised their guns at him and immediately let loose volleys of lasfire and bullets, intending to reduce him to pieces of mincemeat and crush the hope of the prisoners... only for their eyes to go wide when they saw their shots defected or shattered by a shield of red that the aura suddenly formed around him, ceasing their volleys in shock. Elitras seemed as surprised as them but didn't show it as he kept lifting the pile higher and higher, the aura seemingly spreading to the rest of the mount as it began to seemingly redden with heat and power.

"WHY! WON'T! YOU! FAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLL?!" The lead guard roared as he continued firing, trying to extinguish the burning flames that were Elitras to no effect.

"I'LL NEVER FALL!" Elitras roared out, defiance still burning inside him like the sun. The Warden's guards' expressions were practically a storm at the declaration of defiance from him, continuing to fire on him with all their weapons' might yet the aura still shielded him like ether armor. Still, he had to admit that he had to think of a plan to get out of here or he'll never be able to keep this up.

Suddenly, an idea sparked to life in his head. It was stupid and unbelievably dangerous. But it was the only one he had at the moment.

Acting on it almost immediately as it was conquered in his brain, Elitras, using all the strength in him, reared the starship sized pile of debris and junk like cocking back a strike. The guards' eyes practically popped out of their sockets when they realized what he was about to do before they threw down their guns and attempted to run for their lives while the Warden merely closed his eyes in acceptance of his fate.

And with a heave that could crack mountains, Elitras hurled the titan sized pile of scrap at them.

It flew towards them, coming apart like the rain of adamantium meteors, more akin to the fangs of a celestial beast coming down to bite. None of them could get away in time before they were crushed by the avalanche of adamantium. He couldn't see the blood, but he saw through the warp that only the Warden survived, if only due to his powers shielding him against his will.

Heaving for breath, the crimson haired acolyte felt the near paralyzing ache of all the fatigue toxins in his body before it faded almost instantly as the crimson warrior then brushed the dust off his hands before he grabbed the right side of the collar that had trapped him here for almost a year. And with a yank, Elitras ripped the right half of the collar off of his neck, crushing the black material in his hand and popping out the needles imbedded in his skin.

Ripping off the rest of the inhibitor collar from the left side of his neck, Elitras cracked his neck and popped his joints and knuckles.

However, he only barely noticed one of the guards that was on the other side of the area then ran to a glass display case. And with his enhanced sight returned to him, his eyes went wide when he saw the message above it.

IN CASE OF RIOT, BREAK GLASS.

Whatever that meant, it couldn't be good. But then he turned to the cages where the prisoners were attempting to escape from their prisons.

He could handle whatever they could throw at him. The people came first.

Going into a crouch, Elitras then leapt towards the cages in a streak of red, flying through the air as he then saw the guard ram his hand slam on the button. He slammed down on the ground, sending dust and dirt in the air before he broke into a sprint towards the cages sitting by the piles of scrap. Now that he got a better look at it, he was surprised by the cages, they were as large as a Baneblade with several minuscule symbols carved into the metal, likely to prevent psykers from using their powers to escape.

The surprised looks of the prisoners soon became visible as he got them, looking around to find the lock and door.

"Where's the door?!" Elitras yelled to the prisoners in the cage, feeling around the bars and trying to find any kind of opening.

"OVER HERE!" One of them, a bald man holding a little girl with brown hair safely in his arms, pointed to another end of the cage. He shot his gaze towards the other side of cage where a big lock was hanging near an outline of a door.

Elitras immediately zipped at the door before he swiftly crushed the lock with a fist and tore it off, and then he flung the bar door open with such haste that his strength tore it off its hinges. The prisoners wasted no time in rushing out of the cage before Elitras zoomed towards the other cages, ripping off locks and doors as the prisoners immediately rushed out of their cages to safety.

"Hey, sir! What about the guards?!" One of them yelled at Elitras, a woman practically naked, with black hair, a scar running from the corner of her eye to her chin, purple eyes, and long black hair, trying to at least get him to help them.

"Don't worry about that! I'll handle them!" Elitras replied just as his enhanced sight caught the guard that broke the glass on the panel. Alarms soon sounded out, causing the prisoners to begin sprinting for their lives in a frenzy to get away from the area when they had the chance, the psykers sensing something dark and dangerous coming.

Various ports around the area opened and issued purple vibrant smoke while chittering and clanking growing louder and louder. Suddenly, the ports were destroyed when the things running through them, sending shrapnel through the air before landing around him.

They were akin to skeletons with cybernetics and black artificial muscles grafted on them, with flaps of skin draped on their chest and limbs. Their heads were lupine-like skulls grafted onto their heads, burning emerald optics in the sockets, Doom Sirens grafted into their mouths and throats, arms terminating in three pronged talons wreathed in coronas of energy.

Elitras just gave them an unimpressed look before he smirked, "Well, I've been needing some stress relief." He then punched his fist into his palm, causing a small blast of red as he grinned, "Let's rock."

One of them screeched and lunged towards Elitras like a predator, unsheathing its claws to slice him to ribbons... only for its head to be reduced to scrap by a mule kick from him, oil and blood spraying out from its plastic jugulars. Another one attempted a strike from behind, only for Elitras to backhand it across the face, destroying its head like the other with the energy coronas only barely brushing against his skin.

"Ha! Thanks for the tan, buddy!" Elitras joked, feeling weird since he hasn't cracked one in what feels like forever.

His joke was answered by a screech from another one of these monsters as it attempted to slash down on him, but the crimson haired man merely caught it by the wrist and then, with the flick of his wrist, ripped the arm off. It screeched out as it spewed out oil and attempted to use its Doom Siren, only for a spear of metal to piece it in the mouth, silencing it before it could be used.

The last two of these freaks attempted to cleave him in two and decapitate him at the same time. And in but two seconds, Elitras swiped his arms up just as they got close, splitting on at the waist and head while their inactive bodies fell to the ground and collapsed in heaps.

Elitras spit out a wad of spittle at the first one, before rolling his shoulders, "Come on! These guys are chumps! Give me something bigger!"

Right on cue, the ground began to shake as lightning coursed through the ground. Suddenly, energy arced on the heaps of scrap metal around him before they began to float into the air, suspended in a veil of shimmering lightning. And in just a moment, the scraps began to slowly coil together, shaping themselves into a combat form.

It was a golem composed of scrap held by webs of flesh and sinew; six arms shaped like the wings of a raven, a carrion bird head, and arachnid legs consisting of the lower half. It crackled with violet power and dark tendrils of oil, a pyre in its mouth, eyes akin to lances of darkness. It let out a screech, something dark and deep from the pits of hate, reverberating through the spaces of the shadows.

Instead of getting scared, Elitras merely rolled his eyes with a smirk, "Oh, now you're just trying to impress me." His smirk turned to a grin as he punched his palm and crackled his knuckles, savoring the popping sound they made, "And it ain't working."

The golem screeched and then lashed out all six limbs at the crimson haired man, who vanished just as they slashed into the ground. Before it could react, a scarlet streak of light cut through the arms and legs along the left side. The six limbs went flying off the golem, but it barely got a grunt from it as its limbs disassembled before they reconstructed at the body. Before Elitras had a chance to react, it fired a beam of lightning at him that he dodged, which destroyed a pile of metal behind him.

Elitras landed on top of a scrap pile, before he rose up and grinned while raising his fists, "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

He launched himself towards the golem, which roared as it channeled power into its arms and struck them out like sextuple spears. Each strike missed him by a millimeter as he tumbled through the air, unleashing bolts of crimson energy at them, breaking them apart as he soared towards the head. Arcs of lightning and fire shot at him, before he was stopped by a barrier of psychic power, ending his attempt to reach it.

The carrion peak speared towards him like a spear when it saw him be stopped by the barrier, nearly ripping him in half before his fist was suddenly enveloped in red energy.

His hand felt numb and pained in that moment, feeling like plasma and warpfire, like the will of a great beast was welling up in every blood vessel, every cell in his limb. Tendrils of blood and red energy coiled around his limb, shining like a burning plasma cannon as he reared it back for a strike.

Just when the beak reached ten feet from him, Elitras let loose the punch towards the golem.

The blow struck like a comet as a blast of energy and Warp power exploded on the beak, spreading across the entire form of the golem. And in but a flash of red, it was reduced to molten flecks, blasted into the wind.

The moment the results of his attack registered in his mind, Elitras blinked widely as he floated in the air, dumbstruck before he stared at his hand, "Whoa."

"FREEDOM!"

That shout snapped him out of his stupor, causing him to turn to the source... before he blinked in surprise.

The prisoners were taking their revenge against the guards; some using their psyker powers to boil them in their armor, singe them with balefire and Warp lightning, rend their minds apart by making them experience the pain that they had inflicted on them. Some of the more mutated ones using either super-strength, tentacles, or vomiting acid or fire. And baseline ones merely grabbed whatever weapons that the dead guards had dropped or scraps that were sharp enough, shooting or stabbing them in a deep frenzy.

It was not a complete rout however, as the guards took up defensive positions and began firing on them. They managed to kill some of baselines and mutants, and even several injuring several psykers, however it was not enough to completely hold them back. But then when he saw one of them pulled out a small remote and pressed a button, unleashing such a high frequency only his enhanced hearing could pick up. And it was then Elitras realized their intentions: That one had activated a silent alarm; they were merely buying time for the Raven Guard to come.

Elitras, realizing what was coming next, began a sprint towards them, intending to cut the rest of the guards down and escape with the rest of the prisoners. However, just as he got close enough, the nearest one, whom he realized was a psyker, stopped him with a hand and a pulse from calming influence. His mood was tempered and calmed, looking at him with old black eyes.

"No. You have to go. It is too late." The psyker told him, the others coming when the last of the guards were killed, "They already signaled for reinforcements. I felt it in the Warp when one of them activated that alarm."

"Well, then why can't we just run now?" Elitras pointed out, "It might be a while until the Raven Guard get here. I can probably find you all a place to hide!"

"We'll just be more mouths to feed." The old man refuted, cold resignation in his eyes, "Let us die in the name of defiance. We promise that we won't let them take us alive."

"W-What? I can fight them off!" The scarlet haired man said incredulously, but the man would not budge.

"I know you can. But we only slow you down." The psyker replied, the others nodded as their expressions, down to even the children, showed that they were resigned to their fate, much to Elitras' consternation.

"Just keep going. We're doomed anyway." A woman with red eyes and a missing arm told him, her expression one of gratitude yet resignation, "Even with your help, we would never leave this place. Let us end the way we wish to end."

The quiet stuttering expression on his face was worth a million desperate words.

"I can help..." Elitras begged, desperation bleeding into his tone, "Please, I can help you."

"I know." The psyker said, kindness in his old eyes placing a hand on his shoulder, "But let us help you. Go and escape. Tell everyone else that we stood and fought and died on our feet, rather than bowed and begged and lived on our knees.

Elitras looked around at them with desperation coating his face, trying in a thought-filled frenzy to think of something to convince them not to go through with this... but then he saw in their eyes that, no matter his words, they would stay and hold the line. And with that realization, he slumped before he looked up into their eyes with a soft voice, "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." A little girl come up to him, giving a grateful smile to him, "Even when we're gone, we'll always be by your side."

Elitras stared at that little girl with a regretful expression before he mumbled to them all, "Good luck..."

"Same to you." The old psyker replied with a smile as he retracted his hand. Suddenly, there was a massive explosion, causing them to turn and see a sight of utter horror before them: the Raven Guard.

He only needed a moment to see the horror that was they; their armor black and hissing darkness, some of the grills of their helms distended and broken to resemble teeth, some parts of their armor pulsing and heaving like they were lungs, the innards of their bolters in their hands seeming to glow a hellish red or white, spikes organically growing from the trims, his eyes not able to tell which parts were fused to them and which parts weren't.

"They're here!" The male psyker yelled before he shoved Elitras to snap him out of his trance, "Go! GO!"

The scarlet haired man only gave a nod... before he suddenly fired his eyebeams into one of the Chaos Astartes. The one that was struck seemed to know what would happen as it jerked to the side, the blast only ripping off the right pauldron of the armor as it attempted to regain its footing. The area that was struck revealed heaving green flesh with numerous beady black lusterless eyes, leaking green slime oozing out onto the vambrace and gauntlet.

"There. I gave you an edge on that one." Elitras replied before he looked at them with regret, "Take as many of them as you can down."

They nodded eagerly before they went off to fight, no fear coming from them, all that he felt was defiance and rage. Letting a single tear fall from his cheek, Elitras vanished in a streak of red light.

In the next few minutes, he heard the sounds of yells and dying screams, feeling blasts of psychic power and explosives, gunshots and searing flares of fire. Before another moment passed, there was a massive explosion, orange, red, pink, and purple blasting out like a violent sunrise.

Elitras stared on, feeling the lives snuffed out and their souls wandering in the Warp, his expression stony before he turned away and continued walking.

---

2 months later...

The Corpse Fields

(Epic Mickey OST - Tomorrow City Dark)

He'd nearly forgotten how long he had been wandering if he hadn't found a watch from a dead body. Even then, he had a hard time actually knowing the passage as the watch would sometimes stop, reverse rotation, or would switch to a random time, forcing him to count how long he had been wandering. And as such, he was at least aware that he'd been wandering for at least two months.

The journey however was a whole different story. Just as he escaped the scrapyards, Elitras came to an outpost where he slaughtered the guards and slept in their barracks, which were practically a haven compared to his cell in the Murder Cells. Though he crippled one of them and made sure that he wouldn't report him to whenever they had for command, before killing him when he left.

Thankfully, Elitras managed to get some attire and gear that the guards had collected from whatever bandit raids or rebellions from the prisoners were put down. And with the option that he could get out of the loincloth he was forced to wear all those months, he picked a red long sleeve shirt under a green flak jacket, black slacks, black leather combat boots, and fingerless black gloves. And his weapon of choice was a simple lasgun, albeit one of such a make and model that he didn't recognize, heavily modified as well with heat regulators and power settings.

Whatever it was, he took it with him as he fled just as the other guards came in when the report failed to come in.

Elitras managed to get to what appeared to be a chemical plant, smoke and fire expelling out to where it was like a pillar of pollution rising into the upper layers of the Tower. It was a blood red field filled with rivers of chemical death, several midget workers crawling over the machinery and working diligently to ensure that the factory remained functional. Massive gears ground and churn the hot sludge of warp tainted chemicals and compounds into the toxic weapons they would use against the Imperium of Man.

And after that, he came to where he was now. It was a massive expanse filled with mountains of the dead, but whatever horrid things that possessed the area had planted long spines that had several people impaled on them, the smell of burning flesh and rotting meat sulfating the air, and what he thought was a river of magma running through the wet mulched ground. The blast of unnatural wind rushed through his hair and used his hand to keep the dust out his eyes, though he managed to get some googles and a scarf around his mouth, but he then came to another unwelcome sight.

At a clearing between several petrified corpses, wooden crucifixes with skulls mounted and nailed to them stood in the hundreds. Some had helmets on the skulls and coats hanging from the nails and wires, some strips of rotting flesh or follicles swaying in the wind while the robust wood creaked at the movement, the

Elitras uncorked a canteen filled with gut rot inducing bottom shelf amasec before gulping it down, letting the mind-numbing contents wash the stress away. He had been wandering for what felt like weeks, but the only way to actually tell time was him doing mental takes. Though that was admittedly a little hard with him drinking whatever fermented liquids he could find to cope.

However, he stopped at another unexpected sight.

It appeared to be a bandit camp. There were several beige cloth tents held up in wooden poles, a campfire still lit with the crackling pops of burning wood, there were several lights on inside, and stacks of crates and boxes with other things that he didn't care to make out laying upon them. However, around the camp were the dead bodies of the bandits, only able to tell them apart from the rest of the meat and cloth that composed the ground because of the lack of rot on them.

It was only then that he could get a good look at these bandits. Their gear was as anachronistic and mishmashed as they came; gas masks, leather jackets, synthetic combat jackets, flak armors, clothing made of animal skins, pieces of scrap bent and shaped to spiked armor, and even pieces of flayed skin in a measure of intimidation. In their arms were either lasguns, autoguns, and rigged together gear that came to the shape of a gun.

Elitras stared at them with a stoney expression before he turned to the tents, seeing inside that there was a bed that he could rest on. However, just as he trudged away from them and came to the opening of the tent, one of the 'bodies' immediately shot up and aimed their lasgun at the back of his head.

"Tricked ya, fucker." The faker said as the other bandits slowly rose from the ground, getting Elitras to only lazily put his hands up in surrender. He wasn't actually tricked as he noticed that the 'bodies' lacked any kind of wounds whatsoever. They quickly aimed their guns at him, making a circle to surround him just in case he tried anything stupid or reckless.

As one of them grabbed his lasgun off of him, one with antlers grinned at him, "You know, you're kinda handsome. It'll be ashamed to see you ripped to pieces." A quirked eyebrow was Elitas' only response to the female bandit.

"Huh..." One of them noted with a perplexed expression, "He smells weird." The bandit in question, one who had a burnt face with a rather large nose, which he used to sniff the air, getting a weird feeling with this one.

"WHO CARES!" One of them yelled, younger and having a look of frenzied hunger on his face, "JUST KILL HIM! WE HAVEN'T EATEN IN DAYS!"

"Can't wait to see what you taste like, you-" The grinning bandit was cut off when Elitras did a back kick, driving his foot into the man's chest and pulverizing his ribs and organs without a change in the latter's bored expression. The other bandits did not even have a chance to react as he lashed out several punches in but the flashes of red, as they suddenly found themselves without heads.

The youthful one's face immediately changed from hunger to horror when the headless bodies of his friends fell down to the ground, blood coming out of the stumps of their necks. Elitras then blew to the man behind him... which caused the man with the torn open torso to fall to the ground in a squelch of wet meat. The crimson haired man merely rolled his shoulders before he glared.

"GGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Out of nothing but utter terror, the youthful boy screamed at the scarlet haired man as he unloaded his autogun at the monster. And as the young man unloaded his entire gun on Elitras, he left silent when he saw that there was not even a tear in the man's coat. Having a blank expression as he turned to his undamaged shirt, he then looked back up to the bandit before coming close, the young one too scared to move.

His expression not changing, Elitras then raised a closed fist up to the young man's face before slowly opening it... as all the bullets that he caught clattered onto the ground.

The horror of the bandit's face was palpable before Elitras grabbed him by the face faster than he could react. And then with but a squeeze, the bandit's head popped like a blood-filled balloon.

He let the headless body slump to the ground as he then released the remains of the pulped head from his hand, before he found himself looking at the gunk staining his fingers and palm. The scarlet blood, the bits and pieces of brain matter and bone, it all looked...

...delicious...

Looking around to make sure no one was looking, Elitras slowly let his tongue come out and raised his hand to his mouth, slowly lapping up the crimson nectar. The taste was akin to an ambrosia, causing him to lose all control and begin savaging licking the gunk off his hand, chewing the mulch before swallowing it. It seemed almost akin to a frenzy as he lapped it all up without a thought like a starving beast.

As the last of the blood and flesh of the bandit's skull was lapped off his hand, the trance seemed to fade from the glossed look of his eyes receding, causing him to blink when he saw his hand cleaned from the blood and flesh it was originally covered in. Shaking it off, Elitras then turned to hear the clanking sound of boots clamping.

---

The Spawn Marine and its two brothers had heard the strident sounds of flesh crushing and bone cracking, screaming, and then the numerous cracking of gunshots, caution and curiosity urging them to investigate the strange presence that the tainted open perception had detected. The metal covering its writhing flesh tensed and attempted to discourse itself before the web of spindly arachnid limb-like strands that composed its neck to crane its head to its companions before motioning to the small clearing where there was a dim crackling light hidden behind a profusion of bodies.

The two Spawn Marines nodded as the trio advanced upon the clearing, the sound of their feet crushing the meat and bones below them echoing softly as the wet pools of clotted blood spread on the jagged adamantium ground. The fragrant odor of the recently dead came to the grills of their fused helms, letting them smell the blasted aroma of the departed.

However, as they lumbered past another mount of the dead and came to the clearing where all they came across was a simple bandit camp.

A campfire was alit, the tents were still erect, and the former occupants were now among the ocean of dead. Their heads and arms were missing, but the blood that flowed from the wounds was not clotted. The second one knelt to the ground as they approached them, sticking two armored fingers into the neck of one of the corpses on the ground, before it turned to the others, "fresh ones..."

It would have raised an eyebrow if it possessed one; what could have killed these people and just vanish? Then it decided that it would be a matter for another time, right now they had food to keep their gullets full and to keep them alert before their next shipment of green sustenance.

The leader of the three motioned for them to take the bodies with them, causing the duo to collect them like wood for a pyre. The reds lenses of their helms scan the profusion of the dead once, twice, and trice before they continued on with their patrol through the waste pits of the Tower.

None of them noticed that the pile of dead stirred as twin scarlet eyes hidden in the darkest part watched them leave.

---

Elitras watched the trio of Spawn Marines marched off with the bodies of the bandits in tow, waiting for the perfect time to slither out. The ashes and fluids of the death began to seep onto him as he kept under them like a shroud of meat and rot. His breath was so soft and still, brushing against the follicles of the departed, his teeth still crunching on the fingers of the arms he ripped off.

When his enhanced vision showed him the Spawn Marines were far enough away, Elitras slowly began to pull himself free of the heaps of meat. And with a wet slush of rotting slurry, he was freed and slopped on the ground.

The scarlet haired man forced himself onto his feet, finding that his clenched hand was clutching a mess of black follicles. He lifted it up, revealing a wet face, slackened with bloated pale skin, yellow teeth, clotted bloodshot eyes, and a spilling mixture flowed out of the mouth. It was severed from the neck as chunks of clotted blood slowly splattered onto the ground.

Suddenly, an urge came to him, like a slithering maw of hunger crawling into his gut. Shuddering, his mouth opened to reveal his teeth had suddenly becomes sharped to points as they slowly inched towards the head he was holding.

"Nonononono..." Suddenly, Elitras put a hand in front it and looked away, trying to calm himself down as the craving roiled in protest. The feeling kept rumbling and roiling, before it slowly began to fade from his guts, causing the scarlet haired man to breathe out a breath of relief.

Even after the fits had calmed down, Elitras still found himself starving, dropping the severed head down to the ground as he ducked under the opening to the tent, taking a moment to look around. It was merely a single bed with a bunch of crates, one of them held a shining lamp, strewn around before he noticed that one of them was open.

He rose an eyebrow and came closer to the crate, noting the crowbar lying beside the wrenched open lid on the floor. It was filled with odd lumps covered in green and white wrappings, which were oddly clean and tidy, but they deformed in his grip like they were putty. Gaining a curious expression, Elitras slowly undid the wrapping and peeled open.

It was a small cluster of grey fat, glistening and pale, effluent and grease sticking to the paper covering.

Elitras frowned, he recognized this stuff. There was a similar thing on Necromunda called Scrape, a food collected from and mined out of a massive bung of sewer fat hidden in the deepest parts of the Underhive. Apparently, it was made by the oils of millions of ancient meals that the nobility dined on, all forming together into a pile of glistening fat that was quite possibly the oldest thing in the hive sewers.

Despite himself having just devoured the arms of several bandits and especially despite his revulsion, he still felt like he was starving and steeled himself for whatever horrid taste was about to hit him. Elitras let his fingers dig into the bag of Scrape before he brought it to his mouth, taking a deep breath before he lapped it up. It was like a thick cream almost, feeling it begin to melt in his mouth.

Elitras felt the fat melt on his tongue before he smacked his lips, letting the oils settle... and the taste hit him, causing him to let out a pleased sound. He tasted the aroma of a million ancient delicious meals from the oils on his tongue, all kinds of exotic and fancy tastes mixed into one. He quickly lapped up the rest of the fat, feeling it melt and slid down into his hungering stomach.

Smacking his lips, Elitras crumbled the wrappings up before he flicked it back into the crate with a flick of his middle finger. Now that he had something to eat, the lost acolyte of the Emperor sat down on the bed, running his hands down his face in exhaustion before he felt as though he was suddenly weighed down by thousands of pounds of pure lead on his shoulders.

And then, that he collapsed onto the stretcher-like bed and passed out.

---

...out.

Out.

Out.

OUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT

LET ME OUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTT

That word kept repeating over and over again in his head, branding it into his frontal lobe as he kept sleeping.

However, he did not dream, nor did he think as he rested for what seemed like hours or days, only coming to when a random moment passed. And when it did, he suddenly found that he did not even have the strength to stand up, laying there for several minutes before the feeling slowly returned to his limbs as he could then move.

Pushing himself up from the stretcher-like bed, Elitras shook his head to wake himself up, blinking the crust out of his eyes and feeling all his joints pop. Feeling the blood bump into his sore limbs, the scarlet haired man let out a loud groan, standing up and breathing in the cold foul air that surrounded him.

What the hell could that word mean? What wanted to get out? But just as those questions came into his head while he pulled himself together, Elitras realized that it was time for him to get serious.

Grabbing a combat knife from the ground, Elitras wandered out to the corpsefields and found a spot that actually seemed to not be covered in meat. It was coated in blood and grime that he wiped away to reveal the cold grey black surface of what appeared to be durasteel. He knelt down, staring at the wall as he twirled the knife between his fingers.

"Okay, okay. Think, think. What did rabbit masked freak say?" Elitras racked his brain before it clicked and he wrote it out with the combat knife, "1 year, 9 months, 28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 12 seconds. And I've been here for about a year and maybe a month and few days, so that subtracts to..." He trailed off as he did some math, subtracting and doing mental calculations as he jotted them down on the metal wall, before he came to the conclusion.

"8 months, 17 days, 1 hour, 53 minutes, and 45 seconds."

Elitras stared at the answer on the wall, putting a hand to his face as he tried to calm himself, "I'm running out of time." He stood back up, trying to figure out what to do know that he only has so long before whatever apocalypse will come to his earth. The only question now is what does that have to do with him being here?

Suddenly, he was cut off when he heard the sounds of wind rushing past him.

Acting out of instinct, Elitras immediately lashed his arm out and let the knife fly straight at the source of the sound like a kunai... only for it to be stopped by a tentacle of black follicles coiling around the grip and stopping it in its tracks.

It was a woman with long black hair that nearly hid her eyes that possessed white irises and black sclera. She was wearing a white sleeveless dress with bandages around her arms, no shoes on her feet. Her eyes were wide with surprise and her posture seemed ready for a fight before her face lit up with recognition when she saw him, before she turned around and shouted, "I found him!"

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" Elitras sheepishly apologized when he's rationality came back to him, "Damn reflexes..."

"Oh, it's okay." The woman assured him with a sheepish smile of her own, before she gained a concerned expression, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He replied before he saw who was coming his way. It was a group of 7 came around the corner, letting him see her group.

The first was a blond-haired man with glasses and a beard, a black shirt under a white hoodie and beige pants, all tattered and with surprisingly intact glasses.

The next was a fair-skinned young girl with silver eyes and neck-length black hair with red tips, that was spikier and choppier with her bangs swept to the side. Her outfit comprised of a black, red lined lace-up corset with four buckles hanging loose over a mesh sleeveless top over a white low cut long-sleeved blouse, as well as a black choker around her neck. She wears a red pleated skirt that is split at the side with a small brown belted strap across the gap, and bright red shorts under it. On her arms, she wears black bracers with large brown buckled straps around the wrist as well as black fingerless gloves.

Around her waist, she now has a brown belt with several bullets with a buckle of her emblem on it alongside a pouch on the right side with a bone-based emblem and she wears black, thigh-high steel-toe boots with red soles and heels, a single buckled strap, rear seam and a large brown buckled strap with attached pouches near the top, over a pair of brown mesh tights.

The next was a tall fair skinned woman with lilac eyes and long thick wavy blond hair that faded to pale gold at the tips. Her outfit primarily consisting of khaki overalls, the gold zipper of which is unzipped just below the breast to reveal a white low-cut cropped tube top. Around the thighs of the overalls is a gold zipper and buckled strap that allows for the pants leg to be detached. The right leg is unzipped but still strapped to the overalls, but the lower part is partially folded over. Over top of the coveralls, she wears a baggy, dark brown crop aviator styled jacket with fur trim around the neck and black-and-orange straps along the sleeves.

Around her waist is a black-and-orange belt with black-and-yellow folded fabric on the sides, which runs behind her with a pouch attached to it and a golden buckle of her emblem. She wears dark brown knee-high boots with black laces and top trim. For accessories, she has resumed wearing her orange scarf around her neck and her purple scarf around her right leg, like she did with her original battle outfit. She also has a black/brown strap with golden trim and a pouch wrapped around her left thigh.

And it was then that Elitras noticed her arm was silvery and metallic, disturbingly like necrodermis.

Just behind her were her teammates, Blake Belladonna and Weiss Schnee.

Blake was a fair skinned young woman with wavy raven hair cut in shoulder-length bob and amber eyes with purple eye shadow in cats eye style. Her attire was a purple sleeveless catsuit with attached boots that has light purple soles and trim. The catsuit has a high neck with a single short silver zipper alongside matching zippers that run from her thighs to her ankles on the front of the legs. A pair of knee pads, matching color to the catsuit with silver studs on them are attached to the knees of the catsuit.

Her long, white tailcoat has desaturated purple detailing on the chest, sleeves, sides and collar alongside a dark purple detailing on the back. It has a narrow belt around the collar and a wide white belt loosely secured around her waist through the coat's belt loops. The belt has two pouches attached to the back. The coattails end in a point and the inside lining is vivid purple. The front zipper of the coat is upside down and extends to the very bottom of the coat, and there are additional zippers along the lower half of the sleeves with a single purple line running between the zipper and her shoulders. Around each wrist is a dark purple belted wristband and has a desaturated purple magnetic backpack on her back.

Weiss is a pale-skinned young woman with pale blue eyes with a scar which runs vertically down her left eye and face, and long white hair that is often pulled back into a braid on the right side that nearly reached her ankles and pinned with a silver, icicle-shaped tiara. She wears a pale blue sleeveless dress with deep red lining, bow detail fixture, and two diamond-shaped pieces hanging from the corners of the hem, over a white diagonal hemmed strapless dress. Above which she wears a vivid blue shrug with a raised collar, puffy sleeves and the Schnee emblem on the left sleeve, fastened by a blue, silver outlined strap. On her arms are a pair of long navy-blue gloves with silver top trim surrounding a red gem at the top.

Over her dress, she wears a light blue, corset styled belt. Around her waist are three white belts with a medium-sized pouch attached to the lowest belt and another pouch attached to the middle belt. The lowest belt crosses over the middle belt. She wears long, pale blue wedge-heel boots with white frill detailing at the top at the front, alongside grayish blue coloring on the toes and navy-blue wedged heels.

Another girl is a fair-skinned young woman with orange hair and aqua eyes, Lichtenberg scars all over her arms to her neck. She wears a long, pink and white sleeveless coat with light blue lapels and white-collar belted closed by a black belt with a pouch on the left side, over a black short dress and black shorts. The front of the coat has two heart shape cutouts near to the bottom. On the upper back of her coat is a small pair of decorative metal wings with a magnet in the middle that had what appeared to be a grenade launcher on it. She also has long detached white sleeves with black fingerless gloves, white stockings light blue socks and black boots with silver heels, sole and toe plates. In addition, she wears matching metal bands on her upper arms with her emblem on them alongside silver metal bands around her thighs.

And the last is a young man with long black hair that ends midway down his back. There is a magenta streak on the left side of his hair. His eyes match the streak in his hair, He now wears a sleeveless turtleneck dark green top, white long sleeves underneath, black half of a jacket/arm guard combination on his right arm with his father's dagger attached it, a single detached long black fingerless glove on his left arm, and black leather boots.

"Hey," Elitras waved a hand awkwardly, not sure if this people were still sane after their time here in the Tower. But he didn't sense anything wrong with them... at least not at the moment. But there was something about the woman in white that made his skin itch.

"Oh, here's your knife." The woman sheepishly said as her hair unfurled, letting his knife fall back into his hand.

The scarlet haired man blinked at the gesture as he looked at her in surprise, "Uh, thanks but I'd think you would rather stab me with this than give it back."

"Normally, but..." She trailed off when tried to find the right words, "But I think I can trust you." Seeing him crook an eyebrow, the woman decided to reveal a nugget that led her to him, "I saw what you did months ago when you held up that pile of scrap metal."

Elitras blinked, surprised that she knew that about him, "How...?"

"My husband and I were running from the Ravens, as were those boys and girls. You were quite strong, sir." She explained, before she looked over her shoulder to the others that were still at least 50 feet away from him, "You guys can come over! He seems friendly."

The others came over to him though some more tremulously than others, the one with glasses the first to extend a hand to him, "Hi, I'm Sam Williams and this is Emiko, my wife." Elitras took his hand and shook it, being careful not to accidentally crush his hand with his inhuman strength before Sam pointed behind him, "And those guys are Ruby, Yang, Blake, Weiss, Nora, and Ren."

"Hey." Ruby said meekly as she waved her hand.

"Hi!" Yang and Nora waved at him cheerfully.

"Hello." Blake and Ren greeted crisply and briefly.

"Greetings." Weiss greeted, though she had a rather haughty air to her.

"Um hey, I'm Elitras." The scarlet haired man greeted them all awkwardly before he pointed to Yang's metal arm, "What happened to your arm?"

"Oh this?" Yang held her silver arm up for him to see better. It seemed to have shaped itself to her old arm, down to even her fingerprints. The metal bent smoothly as she curled her fingers into a fist, "Well, that's kind of a long story. By the way, it's nice to finally met you."

"Oh, alright." Elitras muttered before that last sentence was processed in his head, "Wait, what?"

"YANG!" Ruby screeched at her sister for that slip up, which, to her credit, she immediately realized as the blonde's hands shot to her mouth.

"What?" He blinked again, seeing their distraught expressions.

"Yeah, sorry if this sounds creepy, but we were kinda following you." Weiss bashfully informed, rubbing the back of her head, while her teammates did the same, "Ever since the scrapyard where we tried to rescue the prisoners, we followed you, but we always seemed to be a step behind you."

"Huh." Elitras just said before he shrugged, "Alright."

They blinked at his lack of reaction, looking at each other before Blake spoke for them all with a bewildered look, "You're... taking that well."

"Believe me, that's the least creepy thing that's ever happened to me." The scarlet haired man just made a nonchalant shrug again, brushing it off, "And how much did you see about me?"

"We saw you fighting those monsters and maniacs, Yang even cheered when you took down that huge monster." Blake chuckled, with Yang laughing at remembering that.

"We even saw you lift and throw that freaking huge pile of scrap onto the guards!" Nora stated enthusiastically, somehow still in a good mood despite being stuck in this nightmare, "Ruby almost gave us away when she screamed 'HE'S GONNA GET CRUSHED!'"

"Hey!" Ruby yelped with her cheeks red like her namesake, "I thought we agreed not to talk about that!"

"Huh, so that's where that shout came from. That's been eating at me for weeks." Elitras muttered out loud, causing the others to laugh and for Ruby to blush more.

Emiko giggled at Ruby's embarrassment before she remembered something that she'd been meaning to say, "Oh, Elitras, can ask something from you?" She suddenly asked, her soft voice somehow silencing the others after pulling a photo out from her dress that she handed to him, "Have you seen this girl? She's my daughter, Erma."

Elitras grasped the photo in his thumb and finger, examining it closely. The picture was showing Emiko and Sam with a little girl who possessed black hair and black sclera with white irises like her mother, hugging her parents as all three beamed at the camera. The girl practically looked like a younger version of Emiko, even has a white dress like the woman, though her face had edges of Sam.

The scarlet haired man racked his brain for any memories of this girl, but even with him filing through every memory of his rapidly he didn't recognize the girl or see her in the Murder Cells. Shame, who knows what those sick fucks would do to a little girl like her...

"No, I don't think so." Elitras shook his head as he gave the photo back to a distraught Emiko, "I'm sorry."

She only gave a sad nod of acceptance before taking back the photo, "I see. I was hoping that you at least saw her. But... thank you anyway." Elitras just gave a sad exhale as he placed his hand on her shoulder in condolence, with Sam having the same expression as his wife while Ruby, Yang, Nora, and Weiss put consolidating hands on him.

"Hey, I don't mean to barge in." Yang said softly as she tried not to ruin the moment, "We have a camp of others who managed to get away from the Raven Guard. Do you want to come with us?"

"Yeah, we do need all the help we can get." Blake gently agreed, while Emiko and Sam seemed to recover from their sadness.

Elitras stayed silent as he pondered it, pressing his lips together in thought. He didn't know what kind of group would be together here in the Tower, what with all the monsters, mutants, and madmen running around, but at the same time... It was all he had to go on for support.

The crimson haired man sighed as he couldn't think of any other options, "Alright, I'll come." Before any of them could response, he then snapped up a finger, "But if any of you start making pacts with daemons, I'm out of there." He emphasized by pointing his thumb behind him with a serious expression on his face.

The group nodded, understanding his concern for the daemons. And then they all froze at the soft, harsh sound of metal scraping on stone. The group slowly turned their heads to the source of the sound, breaths held in their throats.

A thing in a man's skin lumbered by in the opening, stomping as muscles seemed to strain under the force of their steps. It was massive in size, towering even over two Space Marines with the torso bare, exposing a grotesque barrel chest with jutting plate ribs and skin covered in dirt, ash, and filth, crisscrossed with ragged and ill-healed scars, and several broken or intact Power Swords imbedded in the shoulders or back. The equally muscular legs dragged stiff filthy feet listlessly through the meat and filthy ground, one arm loosely dragging a Power Axe that would be more for a statue at a colosseum that would cleave ten men in half. And the face was the worse, for there was none: an iron scrap metal mask resembling the face of an Ork outright bolted and welded, the bloody rivets and the molten seams glinting in the faded light next to raised ridges of once-seared flesh, to its head.

Elitras put a finger to his lips, signaling for them all to be quiet. The others immediately tensed with Emiko's hair instinctively lashing out and covering all their mouths, especially Nora's. For a few heart-stopping moments, the monstrous giant paused its trudge through the grime and filth, his head panning across his surroundings.

The group all held their breath, tensed to fight for their lives in case it attacked. Their hearts nearly stopped their chests as the head then turned to them slowly, the hammer shaped plates that composed its mask creaking and tensing, scraping against each other.

Elitras frantically motioned for all of them to hide, which they immediately followed through and hid behind one of the piles of corpses. They had to be quiet, lest they attract other monsters like this thing towards them, Elitras could fight them, but the others probably couldn't. And there were likely several of these things trudging around these corpse fields.

The sighs of relief when it began trudging once more were all mental. It was only once the scraping of its gigantic Power Axe faded from their senses that they let their breath rush out. Emiko's hair unraveled from their mouths, causing all of them to gap for air and nearly collapsing from the near strangling from her tentacles of hair.

"Sorry." Emiko apologized as she helped her husband regain his breath, while all the others stood back up.

"What was that?" Ruby whispered, more than a little scared at the thing they had just seen.

"Don't know what they're called, but let's get out of here before it comes back." Elitras replied, looking at the spot where it was in case it came back.

"That is a really good idea." Yang whispered as well as the group quickly decided to get out of there before that thing would return.

Unknown to them, a dark shape was in the distance, laying on the cold jagged ground as they watched on through a pair of electrobinoculars. Both eyes, one brown and one pink, narrowing in fury.

---

The Central Command Center

The place was so quiet. Quieter than he had ever heard in his time being in the Tower, void of the sounds of construction and factory work that had been ringing in his head for months now. Now the only sounds stridently coming into his transhuman ears was the sounds of typing and hereteks working, which was only slightly reaching his attention.

The Sired exhaled through the nostrils of his sewn-on face, armor creaking as he turned from the window overlooking the uppermost layers of the Tower. All around him was what appeared to be a station where several servitors were typing in commands for the various stations all across the Tower, presumably orders and other bureaucratical matters.

He was clad in black power armor with several chains attached to the studs lining the trims of the pauldrons, the power armor plates taken from both terminator and dreadnought armor practically bolted and welded to his skin. The inner mechanisms of the armor salvaged and jury-rigged together inside, snagging and pulling at the layer of scar tissue that composed half of his skin, feeling the heat of the reactor against his shoulders.

A grimace forced itself on his lips as he felt the sharp lance of pain shoot into his arm, causing it to seize up, fingers twitching like wriggling insect legs. He growled and slammed his arm into the wall under the window, causing the pain to suddenly cease as endorphins flooded into the limb. Ignoring the looks around him, the Sired tested his hand, curling and unfurling it before wriggling his fingers.

A grumbling breath exited from the giant Astartes before he lumbered away from the windows, the menials parting out of the way in terror as it descended from the platform, stomps of his metal boots echoing like clanks of turning gears. At first, he relished the sight of this smaller ones cowering in fear and making way for him to walk. Now it was just getting annoying.

His Black Carapace had been malformed, according to the apothecaries, causing it to fray against his nerves at some points. It still worked as the nodes that were meant to connect to the armor still came, but there were times when it and the nerves clashed, causing flashes of pain. Though they could have easily tuned the carapace, the apothecaries believed that the pain only served as a motivator for him to fight.

The Sired scowled at the memory before he schooled his features, a trickle of resentment still present. He didn't want this; he wished that he was back at his old house in Dimsdale, with his two goldfish, his room, and... his parents. He didn't even remember his name. He remembered his friends' names, Chester, AJ, Chloe, Jimmy, and Cindy.

He even remembered the woman who would look after him when he was young, Vicky...

At least this new body would let him crush Vicky's head like a grape if he ever saw her again. Or slash her apart.

He even remembered the other monsters like him. Birthed from that daemon womb and having skin grafted onto them, forced into the dark pits of despair for 'training', watching them die one by one until only he and a scant few others remained. Then the blinding pain as they grafted him into the armor. Then the rush of emotional catharsis that blasted through his veins when he first killed something.

But even that wasn't the end of it. He had memories that weren't his own, names of people he didn't know, and events that he didn't recognize or remember. Then came faces that of people he'd never met, fighting monsters that he'd never seen, or even places that he never visited. He didn't understand. Whose memories were these?

However, in all that chaos, a single name kept repeating in his mind.

Elitras.

He hated that name. He hated this place. He hated it, he hated every single ounce of it.

But here he was, in this Tower of Nightmares, forcibly remade into this monster, strapped in this armor, feeling the pain build inside of him. It was all a fate he would not wish upon anyone. At the very least, he could take out his frustrations on the monsters and failed experiments that they sent to kill him.

And it was only then that he smelt the burning of air on coronas of energy.

On his arms were twin Lightning Claws grafted into the gauntlets, the blades capable of retracting when not needed, with the metal gloves having claws fingertips if he couldn't use the actual blades. And he discovered that in his anger, the blades had been extended with their coronas activated.

The Sired sighed, letting his rage peter out and the claws retract at his mental command before he kept walking.

His stomps ceased when he saw someone approaching him.

The man was clad in a garment composed of several jagged metallic plates in the polymerized shape of tight-fitting robes of a Plague Doctor during the Black Plague with that of a trenchcoat that reached the ankles. A furred collar of black was around the neck and chest, in the V-shaped opening on the chest showed a scarlet shirt and tie with an Iron Cross pin. The head was covered by a black leather mask resembling a raven with red tinted lenses, a wide brimmed leather hat with a spiked red band, and a leather spiked choker around the neck with a raven skull pendant.

This was Vost, one of the Children of the Raven. The eyes behind the red lenses like glimmering stars, a presence of blackness roiling inside of him like a storm of umbra, somehow feeling the maliciousness in his very cells. Vost opened a pouch on his side, retrieving several charms and runes before slowly placing them on specific points on the armor.

Immediately, the Sired felt the dark flares in his mind begin to fade like the peaceful gales of old.

He sighed in a bit of relief and looked at the beak masked man, "Thank you. That feels better."

Vost nodded before extracting his own version of Bile's Xyclos Needler, motioning to the Sired's neck. The Astartes moved his head to the side, the move parting the area between his helmet and his armor, exposing a port that led to his jugular for the scientist. And with that, the Child of the Raven adjusted his aim before jamming the needle into the large vein, piercing the pale skin and letting the crimson nectar to slowly fill the needler.

After a moment, Vost gently extracted the needle from the Sired's neck, watching as the small puncture sealed in an instant. Next, he pressed a small button near the trigger, causing a blue light to run the length of the cylinder that contained the same sample and back again, before it ceased, and a number of sounds issued out and then a holographic screen appeared. Vost made a satisfied sound as he took in the readings of this latest sample.

"Well, I see you are adapting well, Sartile." The Child of the Raven said, speaking to him without fear of the size and power of the Sired, "You must be grateful to Elitras. He gifted you with such a powerful physiology."

Suddenly, there was a burst of anger that blazed in his head, almost like an incinerator set to burn. Despite that, his expression did not change, only letting a soft growl come out of his throat.

"Grateful?" The Sired's words were tinged with bitterness and self-hatred as they exited from his skull helm's speakers, his armored hands clenching into fists, "My life is fragments. I am the broken shards of two people and I live in pain with every moment that passes. Grateful?" He then shook his head, "No, Elitras cursed me to the agony of a life I didn't ask for. He made me what I am and there is not enough pain in the world for what he will suffer in return."

Vost hmphed, merely raising a hand and placing it on the greave of his right leg. Suddenly, dark tendrils emanated from his hand and spread across Sartile's body, seemingly forming cracks and fissures in his body.

And then, the fatigue that weighed upon him was suddenly gone.

The Sired gasped as the agony vanished, almost stumbling as he tried to regain his footing from the shock. Vost relinquished his hand, letting the dark tendrils retract into his arm as he then looked up to the Heretic Astartes, "I have taken away your pain. But know that it is temporary. So, do not waste it, boy. Besides, the Dark One commands you to assist the Iron Warriors in the Heaths. Another cult has risen up in rebellion."

Vost retreated into the darkness, taking the sample with him for further study.

A growl escaped his throat as his lips pulled back only slightly, before it cooled and he released a huff of mist. Maybe he could use some stress relief, especially if he could find some other failed experiments that were wandering around the metal forests.

---

The Haven

"So, how did you get to the Tower of Nightmares, Elitras?" Nora asked while they were wandering down a dark path made by a chasm in the adamantium ground, slowly edging themselves through it as it was rather tight and narrow.

Elitras frowned but he simply replied, "I don't want to talk about it."

The ginger bomber nodded, not complaining about it. Ruby seemed a little disappointed but didn't protest. Yang, Weiss, and Blake decided to respect his wishes and not to pry at his personal experiences, but they were disappointed too secretly. Emiko, Sam, and Ren didn't pry, respecting his wishes.

However, if they wished for him to share, it was granted as Elitras' shoulders slackened before he opened up.

"Oh, screw it." Elitras replied, deciding that he might as well vent a little bit, "I was shipped off here after I got captured by some of the heretical Blood Angels. As I think you know, they subjected me to hundreds of tests and experiments."

The others cringed at the sound of that, having encountered the failed experiments of the Raven Lord. Ruby gently pressed, "What did they do to you?"

The scarlet haired man shivered, and tersely responded while rubbing his upper left arm, "Don't remind me."

"Message received." Ruby grimaced, not wanting to hear whatever could have happened to him.

"But yeah, after that stunt with the scrapheap, I managed to escape into those corpse fields." Elitras continued, trying to rid himself of those memories, "The next 2 months were brutal, and I had to do... things that I'm not proud of doing to survive. And then you guys found me, and you know the rest."

"Yeesh," Yang grimaced, along with her sister and teammates, "What exactly did you have to resort to?"

"I'm not gonna say because someone's somehow still in a good mood." The scarlet haired man snarked, jabbing at a certain ginger.

"Oh, silly." Nora waved off, still having that smile on her face despite their situation, "What with all the cults, monsters, madmen, and daemons running around and almost devouring us on the daily, and the increasing possibility that we're gonna die here, I'm practically screaming on the inside. It's you guys that's keeping me grounded."

"Good to know." Elitras deadpanned, turning back to the narrow path they were sliding through, which seemed to be widening with every inch. Soon, they managed to get through to a clearing, and when Elitras exited first, he was pleasantly surprised.

It was a vast expanse of tents, metal slabs shaped to houses, and a vast assortment of other shelters around formerly abandoned grey and gutted buildings. The cold around him had retreated due to the various campfires and heat producing machines, hearing the sounds of chatting and trading as he saw an assortment of people doing such things while others were at the cliffs surrounding the city, armed with all kinds of salvaged and modified guns, armors, and grenades.

The people were as varied, some appearing as baseline humans, while others possessed more... pronounced mutations. Some minor mutations appeared more like tainted veins or patches of abnormal color and texture on their skin, while the more pronounced ones included horns on random points of their bodies, webbed hands or feet, extra eyes or teeth, odd skin textures or ridden with tumors and sores. However, he didn't sense any hostility from any of them, almost like they were friends with the baseline people.

Elitras looked around with a pleasantly surprised expression, letting out a breath, "Hot damn."

"Yeah, it's not much, but it's a safe place at least." Weiss commented with a rueful smile on her face, same with Blake and Yang, while Ruby looked down with a depressed expression on her face. The scarlet haired man and Emiko and Sam immediately noticed her expression, looking at each other for a moment before the onryō motioned for him to do something. Elitras relented and looked at the young girl, whose shoulders were slumped, and her expression sorrowed.

To him, after the hour of walking that they had been together, Ruby seemed like the one that tried to keep a brave face on the most. However, there was a terrible air of sadness to her, rarely speaking, nor making herself known to him before they got to where they are now. Even his senses in the Warp detected a feeling of melancholy, fatigue, and despair permeating off of her.

He noticed it more and more as he stepped closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and causing her to flinch as she looked up at him, gently inquiring, "Hey, Ruby? A-Are you okay?"

Ruby merely regained her sad expression before she gently brushed his hand off of her, looking away, "I'm fine." Her tone wasn't enough to hide that she clearly wasn't.

Elitras looked back at Sam and Emiko, who still had worried expressions on their faces but neither urged him to press on, causing him to nod at Ruby, "Alright, but if you want to talk to anyone, I can give you a few minutes."

Her only response was a soft "Thanks." He patted her on the back, before he and the group merely ventured on as WBY noticed Ruby's sorrowful expression, looking at each other in concern but deciding not to press it.

However, just as they approached, Elitras saw something that made him blink. Several Astartes and Imperial Guardsmen were among the city, from various Chapters and regiments, armed but hiding in plain sight. The guardsmen talked normally, acted like they were non imperials to hide their thoughts of them, thoughts of fear, hate, and disgust. They traded things with them, hiding the revulsion they felt with each touch, speech, and eye contact.

The Astartes were more muted, merely remaining still as statues with cloths draped over them, trying to make themselves seem like they were the guardians of this place, watching over them and plotting whatever fringe attempts of escape and purge could come to them. Their weapons were tight in their hands so none of the ones in this place got any ideas of swiping them, nor the pouches in their belts that held grenades and other items. The red lenses of their eyes like burning holes of dark intent.

However, all those thoughts changed when they all saw him. They kept staring on in awe and fear, before a burning rage that then ignited as they believed that one of the true chosen of the Emperor had been captured by the mutant filth and their sympathizers. Acting swiftly before they would do anything rash, Elitras swiftly put a finger to his lips, signaling all the hidden imperials to be quiet and temper their rage.

They did so, restraining themselves from attacking the unclean around them. But Elitras feared what would happen now that he was here.

He doubted that they would have as much tolerance as him.

---

The Chem Heaths

Heavy stomps echoed through the air as they cracked the concrete ground, dust and dirt shrouding the sky in with sunlight barely bleeding through and washing the area in a sickly yellow or beige hue, heat and cold blasting out in equal measures while the horizon was barely visible. The area seemed to be akin to an abandoned city, wrecked and gutted buildings and houses, dozens of abandoned cars, trash and barrels spilling toxic contents, barricades with barbed wire liberally splayed around the ground, and the skeletal remains of the perished, all coated in dirt, dust, ash, and rust. Fires crackled as the wood, fuel, or whatever the meatbags that had been reduced to primitive intellect could find that would burn, desperate for warmth and some fleeting semblance of hope.

The stomps became louder as the sounds of heavy breathing echoed out, followed by more footfalls and the purring of chainblades.

There was a not a single road that was not covered in rusted junk, deactivated or disabled war machines, headstones, toxic pools of glowing emerald chemicals, and high mounts of tires and empty rusted chemical barrels. Some parts were so filled with junk and refuse that massive tanks and battle machines were brought in for the advance of the dark forces come to secure the area. Claps of thunder then boomed across the sky, in tandem with the massive stomps of the iron giants marching forth.

And they were giants of iron and brutal industrialism.

The Iron Warriors were gunmetal silver marked with yellow and black industrial symbols. No trophies, no mutations, no fetishes for Chaos, just cold brutal and bloody war machines. No words were exchanged, no opinions being expressed, no postures indicating eagerness or bloodlust. No waves of Warp energy roiling off of them, no denizens of the Immaterial inhabiting their armored shells, no Butcher's Nails, no combat drugs, no impossible plagues, no sorcery, nothing.

Just their armor, weapons, combat doctrine, and stoicism.

However, there was one above them.

There was the Sired, clad in power armor modified with Terminator and Dreadnought armor, black as night with the pauldrons holding the corrupted badge of the Raven Guard. His armor having fetishes of the raven, a belt with several pouches with other exotic items made in the Tower, with a bolt pistol in a holster on the right hip. In its hands was a bolt rile stolen from an Ultramarine Primaris, covered in runes and raven-like fetishes, and a standard scope. On the head was a skull-like helm akin to that of a Chaplin's, red lenses like burning suns, the teeth seeming to grind together like an actual mouth.

Sartile, after the interaction with Vost and getting to the teleportarium, decided to take on the mission, hoping to clear his head over the events of when he first emerged from that... thing. By the time he seemed to get there, the place was unlike any that he had ever seen in the Tower. Even as he looked around, having not seen much of the Tower even after spending almost half a year in slavery before he was fed to... that thing.

And now he was here, adding a siege against the Scourge, a Nurglite cult that celebrates toxicity in its purest form. But they were quite well entrenched with the massive fortress composed of corpses and junk. Despite this, they were proven to be quite the thorn in their side as they had launched several toxic weapons upon them, resulting in Corax forcing the Iron Warriors under Honsou to put them down.

Despite Honsou's protests, the Ravenlord strongarmed the 'half-breed' into putting the rebellion and so that he would get results from the Sired's first battlefield experience. Though they were silent about it, most of the Iron Warriors doubted that the Sired would be that powerful or useful. Most of them were brutally disavowed from this notion when they saw Sartile kill a wolf-like creature of metal and twisted flesh that had previously killed a Terminator with the ease of but the flick of a clawed hand.

But the march continued regardless, putting down whatever failed experiments and toxic cultists that tried to attack, setting up lines of artillery, scouts advancing ahead, and plans behind discussed by Honsou and his top brass. Sartile's eyes narrows at he took in the sight of the fortress in front of him. It was massive, like a vast labyrinthine structure with various cultists scampering around, clad in rags and scraps taken from the various war machines around them, armed with what appeared to be guns or nozzles connected to tank-like backpacks.

The Sired suddenly raised a fist, signaling the Iron Warriors to halt. They stopped like they were a well-oiled machine before he pointed two fingers towards the fortress. The massive walls were lined with pillboxes and fortified gun batteries, in front of that was a veritable minefield that was lined with barbed wire, scrap barricades, and chemical mines strewn about on the ground, as if they were scared and desperate to keep them at bay.

Sartile then turned to Honsou, craning his neck down as he was two heads taller than the latter, "I believe this is your expertise."

"Thank you." Honsou curtly replied, turning to his soldiers and motioning for them to bring him something, "Bring me our prisoners!"

The other Heretic Astartes parted to reveal a massive horde of prisoners clad in brown rags and chains, detonator collars around their necks, wielding, unknown to them, dummy weapons and dulled knives. Just as they pooled in front of the Iron Warriors, numbering in the hundreds of thousands, the Astartes moved back into formation as the last half of their prisoners reached the front lines, cutting them off from the other half, whom they had other plans for. These bags of flesh were merely a scouting force for the Iron Warriors to have the mine fields spent and to just the effectiveness and range of their weapons.

Honsou then turned to Sartile, with a look of expectation from him as he held out a small remote for the massive one to take, "Do you wish to do the honors, my boy?"

"If I must." The Sired snarked as he took the remote from Honsou, before looking to the mass of people in front of him. About 500,000 people about to be sent to a meatgrinder just for nothing more than logistics and to expend the minefield and some of the fortress's munitions. All about to be sent to the slaughter at the push of a button and his thumb.

Suddenly, he felt heavy. So heavy. Maybe it was because he was still not like them because of the nature of his transformation. Maybe it was because of a nugget of humanity inside of him. Or maybe it was that he was just different.

Regardless, he had no choice.

To the other Astartes, it was only a moment or two before he pressed the trigger. But for him, it almost felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, their collars activated, bright red lights turning off and on again while beeping rang out as most of them went rigid with terror. As the lights and beeping continued, Sartile stepped up, moving just behind them before he came to the back line. The nearest ones craned their necks towards him while the rest were too scared to turn their heads.

The Sired exhaled, the sound amplified by his helm's speakers, for once glad he was wearing. As there were no one touched by the Warp in the Iron Warriors, there was no one to tell what he was thinking or feeling, and he was so grateful for it, so grateful that he was stuck in this shell of ceramite. Because none of them could know how he truly felt in this moment.

"Hear me, you sacks of meat." Sartile began, faking a tone of distain, most of them and some of the Iron Warriors flinching at the fake hate in his voice, "Your goal is to advance to those fortifications. Your objective is to scout the area and clear it of mines. Your lives don't matter, only the objective to be completed. And if you don't..." Sartile then typed a random number into the remote before pressing the trigger.

Suddenly, the collar of Number #48465, a man who looked barely out of college, began increasing its beeping. He panicked and tried to rip the collar off but was too late. His head was blasted off in a spray of fire, metal, blood, bone, and cerebral matter that splattered all over the other slaves, who all screeched in terror and horror before they were frozen with fear when Sartile selected another number.

That was all the motivation they needed as they immediately grabbed their dummy weapons and ran. They ran without command and without any kind of structure or cohesion, just blindly firing their dummy weapons loaded with blanks at the enemy lines. The enemy seemed to see them coming as soon as the furious mass was screaming out in fury and desperation.

In that instant, they were set upon by the mines, explosions ringing out as they were set upon by lasfire and tox sprays, filling some with holes while other with burnt to a crisp by the chemical sludge that dosed them. Some managed to find some covered after the mines had been detonated by another 'squad', firing on the enemy positions but not seeing any damage, before they were blown apart by autocannons that boxed them in. Another group decided to throw caution to the wind and start blindly charging through the fields, hoping that they would not hit anything before a mine exploded, taking several out as the rest were thrown to the ground and trampled by the other frenzied mob.

Grenades were thrown from the jagged crenulated parapets, exploding out in bursting clouds of emerald that reduced the ones caught in the blast to little more than paste and giblets with those caught in the clouds to have the flesh dissolve off their bones. Some of them used the corpses of their brethren as cover but that only gave them moments more before they were cut down or reduced to bone by the toxic clouds, others were screaming defiance as they fired blindly at the fortress before they died, while the rest decided to throw their weapons down and flee.

Just as they tried to run away, before Sartile could select their numbers and press the detonator, they were gunned down as one by a barrage of bullets or burnt alive by the sprays of toxic waste from chemical bombs. The explosions rang out as the last of the mines detonated before the last of the sacrifices were gunned down. The battlefield soon grew silent as the battle began to calm, before then the Sired saw a shadow in the distance.

There was a survivor. A woman, barely older than 21, the rags covering her chest and torso were torn away, her arm missing, stumbling on legs that had several sections of skin flayed off and exposed muscles, her eyes tear-filled and full of desperation. There was a swelling feeling, a false hope that maybe, just maybe, she could escape and get the collar off, and find a way escape. It shined; it shined so brightly that Sartile almost wanted to look away from its blinding radiance.

But then, it was all snuffed out with a bullet.

The round burst her entire torso open, bones and organs and blood blasting out of her. The light in her eyes faded away, before her body collapsed like a puppet cut from her strings. She slumped onto the ground, an expression of pain and sweet relief on her face, before she was just another body in this sea of souls and corpses.

Sartile merely stared on, his expression like stone under his helmet...

...before he closed his eyes and let tears fall down his cheeks.

Honsou however was not as rueful as him, smiling as he came closer to the large Astartes, "This was fantastic, Sartile. With the measurements of their guns and the abundance of their mines expended, we will be able to destroy the fortress." He then turned to the fortress, "Seems the supply of mortals was well spent."

There was a sharp CRACK then.

The claw-like tips of his gauntlets cracking the ceramite on his palms as he clenched his fists. His teeth grinding inside his mouth, nearly close to breaking from the strain he put them under, some veins in his gums splitting and bleeding before they staunched before any blood could escape.

"Thank you..." Sartile replied tersely, before practically spitting out the next sentence like it was bile, "Warsmith."

Either the Warsmith didn't notice or didn't care at that, as he then motioned for his Iron Warriors to gather for a plans and battle formations for this latest siege. All the while, Sartile stared at him like he was a hair away from ripping Honsou to shreds.

"Honsou..." The Sired growled, the speakers of his helm muted so that the Warsmith wouldn't hear him, "I'm going to gut you like a fish."

Despite that, he was forced to steel himself, letting the heat inside him cool into a cold fury, letting it simmer in his heart as he marched forth to hear the plan.

And it was only then that it truly hit him, as he saw the various mutants, failed experiments, and abominations born from geneforges and archeotech. The monsters that were made from the mad hate and genius of the Raven Lord, people snatched from their homes and taken here to be used as meat or material for more experiments, children born here to grow into mindless slaves that only know to work or eat, mutants running rampant through the dark places born from the toxic runoff of the factories, and the choking smoke of the furnace silos like a shroud that never let the light of the Warp inside. He saw the pit cities where the dregs desperately sought an escape, either through substances or self-erasure, while others could only keep their heads down and toil away until they broke from the weight of the Tower's war machine, children taken away to undergo the transformation to the traitor Raven Guard, either serial killers or thieves, bodies of the dead taken away for transmutation into Corpse Starch.

People weren't people here, just playthings for daemons, just slaves for the factories, just coins to be spent... just meat for the grinder.

This is the nightmare of the Tower. In its abstract madness, it represents, or perhaps is, the nightmare of what war does and is. When its fires burn, when the mouth churns weapons, and when its lungs expel toxic death...

Nobody is human.

Only monsters exist.

---

The Haven

Elitras hummed as he grabbed a bottle from a slovenly merchant, giving up his lasgun as he did not need it. It was an amber colored decanter, thin and rectangular with surprisingly pristine condition and a label with black filigree trims that read 'Ol' Janx Spirit'. He uncorked the bottle before he pulled out a cloth and wiped the rim, but the opposite effect of what was intended, in that the fumes of the Ol' Janx Spirit killed off all the bacteria on the cloth.

He then made the mistake of sniffing the fumes, causing him to recoil at the sheer potency of the fumes. "Oof. That is heavy." He then took a drink, feeling all the bacteria in his mouth and then throat die as it pooled into his stomach. The scarlet haired man recoiled at the punch that the drink gave him, feeling nearly limp from the feeling of warmth that then followed into his veins. He looked at the bottle with a shocked expression before he chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm saving this." Elitras said as he corked the decanter and placed it in his jacket, not in the cloth bag filled with stuff that he managed to trade for.

As he walked through the buzzing crowd of people through the streets, he managed to catch a glimpse of Yang, who save him in the heaving mass and waved to him from one of the tents by an especially large building. Elitras waved back, seeing her as he brushed past a group of Atlesian soldiers who were on patrol. Something then caught his eye as he then watched a man try to rob a child, before he was stopped by a saber to his throat, curtsy of a woman with white hair.

Winter Schnee, Weiss' older sister.

Winter was wearing a white collared undershirt, a necktie that connects to her new brooch, and a girdle underneath the lapels of her coat. She wears navy blue gloves, pants, and boots with red lining, and sports a Dust pouch around her waist. Along with that she possessed two red-and-black pauldrons on her arms and legs similar to that of her brace, that held the rest of her sabers.

The man wisely handed over what he stole, a teddy bear of all things, while cowering under Winter's gaze. Winter's expression then changed to a compassionate one as she handed the stuff bear back to the little girl it belonged to, who happily took it back before hugging the swordswoman's leg. She chuckled and patted the little girl's head before she saw Elitras when the girl ran off to her parents.

"Greetings. I assume, you're Elitras?" Winter inquired of him as they walked with each other.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out." He smirked with a confident smirk, causing Winter to giggle. His confidence seemed to be doing him wonders as of late.

Winter then asked, "How are you handling the Haven?"

"It's been fine so far." Elitras shrugged, putting his hands in his coat pockets, "Not the first time I've been in a wretched place like this."

The specialist blinked at his words, "You've been to places as hellish as the Tower?"

"Well, not technically, but I've been to places that are pretty horrible to live in." He corrected himself, "And let me tell me tell you, I have seen a bunch of fucked up place."

"I see," Winter decided not to question that as she had had enough of the tower to last a lifetime, and they had only been here for 4 months. She then gave a fond smile and said, "My little sister has talked about you quite a lot. She and her friends have taken a liking to you."

At that, Elitras smirked, "Well how could she not?" He replied with a flip of his scarlet hair and roguish grin, charisma practically tripping off of each word.

Caught off guard, Winter blushed, charmed by his charisma but quickly recomposed herself, trying to maintain her discipline. Despite that, the knowing smirk that came from him told her that he knew his fake attempt to woo her worked. Regardless, she found that she was smiling despite the situation that they were all in and despite the ongoing struggle.

"Regardless, I hope that you'll be a good addition to our group. Morale has dropping lately and dropping badly." The specialist told him, her grip on her rapier tightening at the horrid memories of the monsters that roam the outside of the Haven.

"I understand. Trust me." Elitras whispered, enough for her to hear before he shrugged, "Anyway, nice talking to you, but I have to go."

"Very well. I hope to see you again." Winter nodded and let him walk off, before a frown formed on her face the moment he was out of sight. Despite his words and his incredible charisma, the Specialist had an awful suspicion that there was more to this crimson stranger than meets the eye. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what it was that made her uneasy.

Back with Elitras, he made his way through an opening between the hundreds of thousands of tents and shelters that lead to the tent where he saw Yang, who had a smirk and a hand to her hip before she asked in a suggestive way, "Taking a liking to Weiss' big sister?"

"She's not my type, but yeah she's cool." Elitras put those thoughts to rest, causing Yang to laugh before she motioned for them to enter the tent. Inside was Team RWB_, Team _N_R, and the couple, huddled around what appeared to be a device that was emitting heat, resembling a car engine of all things. They were sitting on what appeared to be the remains of some wooden bench or couch, hastily hammered together with nails and rivets.

"Hey, guys." He greeted plainly if a bit awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

"Hey." They all greeted in their own way, some having more enthusiasm while others were more serious, but Ruby only gave a weak wave. Elitras gave her a concerned look but shook it off, then digging into his bag and retrieving several beige ration bars, before he began to portion them.

"Now remember, ration these... rations, because there's only so much and these were all I could get." The scarlet haired man said as he then slowly giving people their portions of the rations that he managed to proclaim, "I know it ain't a good dish like filet mignon, but it'll keep ya from starving to death."

Weiss had a disgusted expression but shoved it down as she was starving, and she had too much dignity to resort to eating the sloop that they made from the dead bodies. Swallowing her disgust, the ex-heiress then took a small bite from the bar. It wasn't bad, just bland. No flavor or texture, just like chewed up gum. But regardless, it was better than eating nothing at all.

The others didn't seem to mind, through Blake pouted as it still wasn't fish flavored but ate it, nonetheless. However, while Ruby ate, Blake, Weiss and Yang noticed that she chewed slowly, not like how she used to scarf down cookies by the dozens. The girls looked at each other, wondering what to do about Ruby since she'd brush off whenever they would ask.

Before they could press it further, Elitras suddenly reached into his coat and slowly pulled out a tall bottle. The bottle of Ol Janx that he managed to acquire by selling his old lasgun. He set the bottle down next to him and took out three small cups of white stone from the bag, and then gave the huntsmen and huntresses each a bottle of recycled water.

"A little something to celebrate being alive." Elitras began as he poured the clear liquid into one of the small cups.

Curious at what he just pulled out, Blake took a sniff, only to immediately recoil at the sudden smell from the bottle, pinching her nose, "Ugh, what's in that bottle?! It smells like jet fuel!"

"This is Ol' Janx Spirit." The crimson haired man said as he held up the bottle for them all to see, "Made from the finest spices in the galaxy. Its only legal use is to dissolve runoff from the reactors of battleships." That was all a lie. He had no idea where this drink even came from but the guy selling it had quite a bit of these in stock, yet they sold for a fortune, and it tasted like melted gold.

But he loved seeing the faces of Team RWBY and Team _N_R go slack jawed at that information. That even managed to get a chuckle out of him and Sam, including a quiet giggle from Emiko before Elitras filled the rest of the glasses with the special drink. The clear liquid seemed to darken into an amber form, causing the kids to blink before he corked the decanter.

The three adults picked up their glasses and raised them for a toast, with Elitras giving the words, "To the ones we wish were with us."

"'To the ones we wish were with us.'" Sam and Emiko parroted as they then drank from their cups, with Team RWBY and Team _N_R drinking their recycled water in place of Ol' Janx. Immediately after drinking, Sam began coughing up a storm while Emiko hiccupped, learning on her husband while her cheeks flushed with the blood rushing to her head.

"Man... that's a kick to the gut." Sam breathed out, trying to regain his grip on reality as whatever else was in that drink took effect in his brain. Emiko hiccupped again before she gave a drunken laugh, falling into her husband's lap... before she started sobbing. Elitras and the kids looked to her with surprise, concern, and confusion before she started blubbering, "Erma..."

Sam seemed to power through the effects of the alcohol, holding Emiko as she continued to sob, stroking her head, "Shhhhhh... Shhhh... It's okay, sweetie. It's okay." He had slight tears in his eyes, but he kept strong even as they fell. The girls, even Ruby who stunted off her depression, walked over and embraced the onryo and her husband.

"I wasn't there to save her when those... beasts attacked the convoy where they were taking us..." Emiko whispered in his chest, before burying her face deeper into Sam's shirt as she sobbed, "It's my fault..."

"No, nonono..." Sam whispered to her, stroking her head.

"I'm so sorry..." Elitras whispered, not knowing what else to say, while he just puts a hand to her head, stroking her mane of black hair while she sobbed in her husband's arms. He tried to say something. Something sympathetic or empathetic. Something, anything for her. But the words wouldn't form in his head, nor would they leave his mouth. What could he say? He didn't have a daughter that was missing. Much less one such in this horrible place.

Maybe the girls did. Maybe they had someone who was lost in this horrible place or died because of it. Maybe that's why they were better at this than he was.

"Hey, Elitras?" Ruby asked out of the blue, causing him to break his chain of thought and turn to the girl, who wondered something, "Do you have any family?"

At that, he seemed to pause. He hadn't thought about Cyrene, Belicara, Serena, Alistair, and Nero for quite a while. And with that, Elitas could not help but wonder how they must be feeling now that he's been gone for over a year, or whatever measure of time actually passed for them in the materium.

"Yeah, my two brothers... and my three..." He didn't know what to call Cyrene, Belicara, and Serena. Sisters? Cousins? "...Sisters." Elitras finished as he seemed to sober at that, looking downtrodden at the thought of his brothers and his sisters, "...I really miss them."

The others looked on in sympathy, knowing that they had lost loved ones as well. "Are they trapped here too?" Nora asked, looking uncharacteristically somber at that.

Elitras shook his head, "No, they managed to get away. As you can clearly see, I wasn't so lucky." He uncorked the rectangular decanter filled with the potent liquid and poured another drink for himself and gulped it down, "But after over a year, I'd think that they've moved on. Not that I'd blame them. Just hope that they don't blame themselves for what happened."

They nodded, melancholic expressions on their faces, especially Ruby. Even long after they accepted that there may be no way out of the Tower, they couldn't help but think about their loved ones that weren't and how they were coping with their loss. Ruby, Yang, and Blake were thinking about to their parents, wondering how they'll take the news about the destruction of Atlas and Mantle. They must be so worried.

Emiko and Sam felt the same way. Sam barely knew if his brother and his other extended family knew that he was still alive, but he also knew that it'd hurt them more than anything if they thought he was gone. Emiko wondered about her siblings and how they'd react to her disappearance. Kentaro, Ena, Mayumi, and Yori would be devastated. She didn't know how Fumiko and Rin would react, but she hoped that all of them would be okay. But the thing that she worried about the most was Felicia and Erma's friends, what would happen to them if they found out that she was gone?

It took a few moments before the mood lifted sightly when Emiko wiped away her tears, before she turned away, a little embarrassed at getting so emotional in front of a man that she only recently got to know. She apologizes to him softly, "Sorry..."

"It's okay." Elitras whispered to her, knowing that she had to be going through a lot with her daughter missing.

"Hey, not to be insensitive, but how'd you get that bottle?" Yang asked, trying to lift the depressing mood out from the tent, "Seems expensive."

The scarlet haired man raised an eyebrow, before he shrugged, "Well, I had to give up that lasgun I stole. Ah, it's a shame, I had some pretty good and pretty terrible memories with that thing."

"Oh, come on." Yang smiled, "Tell me you weren't reddy to give it up."

Her other three teammates merely had blank expressions as did Ren and Nora, while Emiko and Sam merely just gave her looks of disapproval.

However, they were all cut off guard when Elitras snorted.

Elitras then snorted again, a smile tugging on his lips as they forcefully parted, letting a snicker bleed out which then exploded into a full-blown laugh, much to the surprise of the group, even Yang herself. He didn't know why, but maybe the fact that he hadn't experienced a bit of levity for the last few months. "Okay..." Elitras managed to get out after he let out the last few giggles and wiped the tears away with his thumb, "That was a good one."

Emiko and Sam blinked at his reaction while RWB_ and _N_R all had horrified expressions on their faces, but Yang had an invigorated and seductive grin on her face as she rested her Necrodermis elbow on the red head's left shoulder and leaned in to where they were face to face. "Really, Elitras?" The blond brawler asked in a seductive tone, "You like my puns?"

"Oh~" Elitras gave a roguishly charming grin in response.

Blake glared daggers at the scarlet haired man in jealousy, her hands tightening into fists while Weiss smiled at her knowingly. Ruby had a horrified expression at the thought of Yang finding someone who shared her love of puns, while Nora moaned in horror, and Ren just put his hand in his face in exasperation.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a shout from outside.

They all looked at each other before they rushed outside to see what was going on, nearly shoving each other as Elitras pushed himself out first with the others behind. Running through the alleys, they came to a massive crowd where a mutant, resembling a short man with a burned face and deformed hands, was screaming his head off as another mutant, this one tall and lean with the scaled skin and claws of a reptile, was trying to calm the other one down. Some of the Atlesian troopers were at the outer rims of the crowd, trying to get in to see what the commotion was about.

"Please, please, calm down!" The reptilian mutant harshly to the smaller and older one, even as he struggled in his arms, "He'll hear you!"

"CRIMSON HAIR!" The old mutant did not heed the younger's words as he flailed about in front of the crowd who watched with concern and bewilderment, "CRIMSON HAIR! I SAW HIM! THE RED ANGEL IS HERE! THE RED ANGEL IS HERE!"

The group got the edge of the crowd where they saw the two mutants, with Yang asking one of the Atlas soldiers that survived while staring at the two, "Hey, what's going on?"

"That midget saw the red head," The soldier started as he pointed a thumb to Elitras who frowned at the nickname, "And he froze. He stayed frozen for a few minutes before he started screaming his head off."

Suddenly, just as the diminutive mutant turned, he saw one with crimson hair in the crowd. The midget froze at the sight of him, everything else around him seemed to dark as the crimson eyes and hair of the beast seemed to burn brightly like the flames of the apocalypse. The others noticed the ceasing of his ramblings as he had suddenly stilled, following his line of sight before they laid eyes on him.

As they all wondered why the midget was so terrified of Elitras, the mutant then ripped himself out of the taller one's grip, before grabbing a knife from the latter's cloth belt and then turning to the red-haired man in a blind fury.

"DIE, YOU BASTARD!" The mutant yelled before he threw the knife at the man, with tears and fear and hatred in his eyes.

Elitras, with a bored expression, raised his hand faster than anyone could perceive before he caught the knife between two fingers before it could even reach his neck or chest. All of the group blinked the swiftness before he flicked his fingers, causing the knife to snap into pieces.

Unfortunately, this caused the metaphorical straw to break the camel's back.

"Lord Elitras!" One of the Space Marines yelled as he immediately dashed towards his lord with every single Space Marine and Imperial guardsman in the area instantly eschewing their disguises before they whipped out their weapons at the mob. Like a frenzied mob, the others in the crowd immediately retreated back to their homes at the sight of the Imperials, especially after they raised their las and autoguns at them, with the soldiers from Atlas and the huntsmen wisely backing off.

'Oh, no...' The Acoltye of the Emperor thought as he knew that things with these people were about to be FUBAR.

"Are you alright, my lord?" One of the guardsmen saluted Elitras, more on reflex as he saw his superior unharmed.

"I'm fine." He waved off their concerns, before he noticed the sheer amount of Imperial Guardsmen and Space Marines around him. He counted a dozen from the Vostroyan Firstborn, another two dozen from the Salvar Chem Dogs and Anthonian Tunnel Rats, seven Kasarkins Elites, thirteen Tempestus Scions, fifty Cadians and Death Korps of Krieg, and almost two hundred from regiments that he didn't recognize, only knowing their allegiance thanks to the Imperial Aquila on their armor or uniforms.

Still, he knew he could trust them. He felt it in the Warp as his Witch-Sight brushed against their minds, there was no taint or feelings of heresy or doubt. In fact, he dared say that they seemed to be irradiating hope of all things.

The Space Marine were different. He saw three Blood Angels, two Ultramarines, two Silver Skulls, a Black Templar and Imperial Fist, five Carcharodons, and a couple of Salamanders. Their armor was surprisingly pristine, through stained with the blood of thousands of the gene forged or machine abominations that Corax's factoriums and forges. Regardless, they were also free of taint and corruption, and that meant he was likely in good hands with them.

The mutant dwarf squealed at seeing the Imperials bust into formation before blubbering out, "Crimson hair! He led the Imperials-!"

"SHUT UP!" One of the guardsmen shouted, whacking the mutant in the jaw with the butt of his lasgun, silencing him with a yelp.

The Acolyte merely breathed in as he slipped on the mental mask of an Imperial lord, having been on the battlefield for so many times that it was a reflex. His posture straightened, his face placid and unflappable, arms behind his back, before he spoke in Low Gothic, "Guardsmen. Astartes." The Imperials immediately saluted him at their designations, straightening their postures as he continued, "What's the situation?"

One of the Blood Angels immediately came forth, stabbing his Chainsword to the ground, "My lord, we are currently at three hundred guardsmen and nineteen Astartes, excluding myself. We barely managed to escape from the pits that the false Raven Guard held us in, however, in our journey, we lost precious numbers. The force you see before you are all that we believe remains of the loyalists in this damned Tower."

Elitras nodded before he asked the one who spoke, "What is your name, son of Sanguinius?"

"Captain Damien Drien at your service." The Blood Angel replied, raising his chainsword up, "I and every one of us are at your disposal."

Just as Elitras nodded, he heard a yell. A yell from a certain white-haired specialist.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING- ...oh..." Winter started before all bravado left her when she saw the Space Marines, her furious expression instantly vanishing as transhuman terror wormed into her heart, her grip on her rapier shaking. Meanwhile, the soldiers immediately lost all valor, mouths slackened, and legs began to tremble. Weiss and her friends immediately silently panicked when they saw the standoff with the Space Marines and the former's sister.

"Just give us the order, my lord." Damien growled as the other Astartes raised their Power weapons while the guardsmen readied their lasguns. The others in hiding tensed and readied their weapons just as it seemed like a battle would break out.

"Belay that... for now." Elitras held an arm out to stop them, eyes narrowing at the Atlas soldiers and Winter, whom all tensed more at his words. The Imperials looked at each other before they acquiesced, a breath of relief immediately coming from all non-imperials. Unfortunately for Elitras, he immediately felt a sense of deep betrayal when he turned to see Team RWBY and Team _N_R.

"You're part of the Imperials!?" Blake screeched at him, looking both betrayed and disgusted at his true allegiance. Yang and Weiss had similarly betrayed expressions while Ruby's was one of nothing but hurt. Nora was looked heartbroken, while Ren merely had a resigned glare at him.

The scarlet haired man exhaled, before he looked into their eyes, "Yes." At feeling their sense of betrayal grow, he shrugged and asked, "Would you believe me if I said this was not at all what I was intending?"

Most of the people of Remnant glared at him. Even Ruby, though to a lesser extent. Sam and Emiko were the only ones not glaring, but he felt their disappointment.

Elitras exhaled again, expecting it but being disappointed, "I didn't think so." Suddenly, he realized something after it hit him, "Hold on, how do you know about the Imperium?"

"A lot of the people we met up with told us a lot about the Imperium. Especially the guard and what they do to their people!" Yang yelled with all her friendliness gone, looking absolutely disgusted by his alliance to the Imperium, making him frown but not deny it either, "The servitors! Kids being taken by the Astartes! People being burned at the stake just for being mutants or psykers! How the hell can you people be so cruel?!"

Elitras remained stone-faced, making it clear that they weren't going to get a single response out of him.

Before things could escalate and especially before the other imperials decided to step in, Weiss, ever the reasonable one out of the group, puts her hands on her teammates' shoulders, "Come on, let's not provoke him. Especially when he has an army." Her words managed to get the both of them to relent, but still they glared at him, with the crimson haired one feeling Weiss' disgust as well.

"Alright, but only if he answers one thing." Blake demanded as she ripped away from Weiss' hand and marched up to Elitras, face to face with the stonefaced Imperial warrior, "Who are you?"

"He's one of the Emperor's Apostles, quite possibly highest-ranking members of the Imperium just under the Emperor, even above the Inquisition." The reptilian mutant explained, having seen him in action, "When an inquisitor lord attempted to have an entire sector's worth of Astartes and Guardsmen be redirected, one of the Acolytes countermanded his authority. This man is one of them."

"...And how do you know that?" Elitras queried sternly with a raised eyebrow, some guardsmen raising their guns at the mutant and fingering their triggers in case he gave the word.

The reptilian mutant reeled back in terror, "I-I-I saw it when you were speaking to him on Freanus VI! I-I-I was a worker in the fields! I promise you I would never even think of betraying the Emperor!"

Elitras frowned at the mutant's blubbering but sensed that no lie came from him. However, the others tense as his burning crimson eyes were boring into the poor man like that of a merciless angel, an eyebrow slowly cocking as the Imperials saw him ponder, before his posture relaxed, "Alright, let him go."

That surprised the mutant and the Imperials, to the point where one of the guardsmen, a Vostroyan Firstborn, attempted to protest, "My lord, are you-" The guardsman was cut off when the Acolyte gave a glare.

"That was a conversation on Freanus VI, an agri-world who suffered a rebellion that was violently put down. And unless that information hurt the Imperial presence on that plant, which last I checked had not, then I don't see the reason to kill him for knowing that tidbit of a conversation. Ergo, that. Is. Final." Elitras stressed that last word by grabbing the barrel of the guardsman's lasgun and forcing it down, his scowl boring into the lad's eyes which grew wide.

"I-I understand my lord." The Guardsman complied, lowering his lasgun in compliance, much to the surprise of the non-Imperials. The other guardsmen were also surprised but did not disobey, neither did the Space Marines.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" The mutant thanked him, practically blubbering with tears and snot before Elitras put a hand up, silencing him.

"Just get out of my sight." The leader of the Tower's Imperials motioned with a disinterested expression. The reptilian mutant nodded before he swiftly made himself scarce, before Elitras exhaled and turned to his forces, "Find whatever abandoned buildings are near here and set up shop, establish defensive parameters, and run logistics on whatever resources we have. I have a feeling we may be here a while."

The Imperials nodded before they began to head West, seeing that there was a section where there seemed to be no activity. Before he joined his forces, Elitras paused before he looked back to the people that guided him here, a pang of regret coming to him before he sighed out, "Hey, for whatever it's worth... I really am sorry. Hope we can be friends again... someday..."

Elitras then took off, not noticing their expressions beginning to soften. Yet he still felt their disgust for the Imperium.

He didn't blame them. At first, he was as disgusted as them about the Imperium and their cruelty, but the Emperor managed to educate him well on all the cruelties and pragmatism that came with the empire's truths. Even then, he had his doubts. That was until he came to the Hive World of Damrin Secundus.

The planet had risen up in rebellion against the Imperium and the Emperor tasked him to put it down. He had just turned 19, and it was the first time he had actually led an actual battle against enemies of the Imperium. But though the tactics from him and a bunch of highly competent generals, they managed to smash the rebellion, but several of the civilians had been exposed to the lingering taint of Chaos.

At first, he merely wanted to let them go, thinking that with the taint being so minor that it wouldn't warrant liquidation. However, it was then that he saw the lingering strains of corruption sewing themselves onto their souls. If left unchecked, it would bloom into another Chaos rebellion, and that was unacceptable. And so, with immense reluctance, he ordered all those that were tainted to be painlessly killed.

And it was only then that he truly understood the tragedy of the Imperium.

In a universe of horror and strife, where dark things wait to prey on the weak, where there was no hope for peace or salvation, the Imperium was akin to a traumatized child; raised in an oppressive house, where not only its parents, but also its own toys and siblings and friends attacked it, then thrown into the middle of a ruined city in the midst of all-out war from the outside and inside. The child, in its desperation to survive, had killed, eaten others, betrayed, and was betrayed, but survived even though it had lost so much. To survive the grim darkness of the 41st Millenium, humanity was forced to kill its own humanity, and in a universe of monsters, was forced to become the biggest monster of them all.

Because only a monster could survive what the hell galaxy in the grim dark future brought. Where understanding and acceptance was impossible, because of the Dark Gods used it as an opening and weakness, and because every non-human race don't want to be equals but to eat, enslave, kill, destroy, or control humanity.

The Imperium is a cruel regime, but the rub, the ironic tragedy of it all, was that they never had a choice. Only through cruelty could they survive.

Mankind must suffer, so that mankind may survive.

He looked back at Team RWBY, taking in their disgusted expressions, his own visage distorting with a frown of envy. Their world must have been filled with hope, where there was some way to win or prevail against the darkness.

There was no hope in the 41st millennium. Hope was a myth, a foolish dream, and most of the time corrupted by the laughter of thirsting gods.

They're good kids. He hopes that they don't see the monster. Just the broken soul and broken body of mankind. A soul who lost all faith in salvation. A body beaten and battered by the blades of despair and darkness.

Only war.

Only sacrifice.

Only pain.

Such was things in the grim darkness of the far future.

"My lord?"

Elitras snapped out of his thoughts before he turned to the guardsmen who called to him, "Yes?"

"We've arrived." The Cadian motioned with his rifle. Elitras turned to where he pointed, showing a single, fairly intact, four-story building with windows intact and several crates stamped with Imperial aquilas, indicating weapons and supplies. It was then that he noticed that the entire Haven was actually hidden under a massive machine, appearing to be only made of gears, pipes, and exhaust vents billowing out smoke, but it was vented out of the moderately sized openings in the chasm. No chemical runoff could be seen so far, nor any patrols or repair crews, but he was not one to take chances.

Still, it wasn't the worst base that he had to work with, but it was definitely gonna be a challenge as the building was obviously not composed of rockrete or other durable materials that imperial bases were composed of.

"It'll have to do." Elitras acquiesced, before he motioned to the building, "All to you get inside. We need to discuss or create a plan."

"Wait, my lord." Damien stopped him with a hand before he motioned for his brothers to get something, "We have an item that we wish to grant you."

"Oh?" Elitras wondered out loud.

Just then, the Blood Angels walked to the stacks of crates that they had hidden here. Damien's two brothers dug through the supplies before they brought out a particularly massive and rather long crate, as large as the two marines that lowered it to the ground. The crimson haired warrior came closer with an interested expression as the Astartes began to open it after Damian punched in the access code, servos whirling and locks opening before the lid slowly lifted up. Suddenly, there was a massive flash that caused him to winch slightly before the Space Marines slowly extracted it.

It was a golden spear of unparalleled opulence. Its blade shaped like an elongated tear with a hollow in the centre to represent the single drop of blood Sanguinius shed when he swore fealty to the Emperor. The shaft sculpted to show the Primarch as a hooded angel of blood, and beneath that is a Purity Seal with an oath allegedly hand-written by the Emperor Himself.

Elitras' mouth formed a perfect O when he saw the spear, whispering, "The Spear of Telesto."

The three Blood Angel delicately raised the weapon up and letting gently it down in Elitras' hands. He let out a breath as the Spear rested his palms, fingers curling around the shaft; it was light as a feather, at least for him, feeling like it was made of auramite or something even greater and rarer. The tear-shaped blade was shimmering blue with its brief discharge of the power field, the purity seal still as pristine as ever even after ten thousand years.

Suddenly, there was a brief flash that blinded all those present. Elitras flinched at the brightness before it receded, and the sight that came next caused him to blink.

The Spear had shrunk, now the size just right for him. The acolyte gave a bewildered look as he took the spear in one hand and tested it out, while the Imperial were slack jawed and dumbstruck, especially the Blood Angels, who looked at each other in shock at the spear's sudden transformation.

"It's a miracle." One of the guardsmen whispered, awed, especially when Elitras spun it around to test it.

Damian gaped under his helmet as did his brothers. Was the Spear now blessed with Sanguinius' power? Did it recognize the acolyte? Did he have the blood of Sanguinius in his veins? What was going on?

The acolyte smirked, before he turned to the others, letting the spear's end come to the ground. "Alright, thanks for the gift, Damien. But back to business, I need all guardsmen to check their supplies, same for half of the Astartes, while the other half will form a defensive perimeter around our base but only go to edges around our occupied area. I'm not taking any chances in this hellscape and don't want any of the Astartes to get jumped by anything that might be out there. Now get to it! AVE IMPERATOR!"

"AVE IMPERATOR!" The gathered Imperials yelled out in synchroneity, saluting each other with the Aquila.

Elitras smirked at that, watching as they began to get to work, before he muttered to himself while looking around, "Meanwhile, I should look around to see if there are any changes of clothes around here."

However, he never noticed or didn't care to notice a pair of amber eyes peeking from the corner of the building behind him. One guardsman however thought he saw something in the corner of his eye, only to see nothing. He blinked before dismissing it and going to check on their supplies, not noticing the feminine shadow that slowly jumped back to the Haven camp.

XXX

"So, what'd you find out, Blake?" Yang asked after Blake landed on all fours in front of the group of huntsmen and specialists before standing up.

When Elitras and his army left, Blake began trailing them before they could stop her. However, they decided that they may as well let her as she could give them information of the Imperials and their plans incase if they attempted to attack the Haven. Blake however noticed that Sam and Emiko were on the sidelines, having worried expressions on their faces. She couldn't blame them, who knows what could happen with the Imperium involved?

But that was a matter for another time.

"The Imperials are currently forming a perimeter around their base, with said base being one of the larger buildings outside of the camp." Blade began, taking out her scroll and showing them the pictures that she had taken while spying on them, "Space Marines are on patrol for anyone or anything that might be out there. But Elitras got a new weapon."

She then swiped to reveal the Spear of Telesto. Their response was almost like they were witnessing a miracle, eyes widening and jaws slackening when they saw the golden radiance of the spear, like it was a thing from the heavens itself. There was almost like a will that attracted them to it, a piece of light and fire that was born from the resistance of man, a thing that screamed defiance to the darkness.

"Woah..." All of Blake's teammates whispered in awe at the sight of the Spear, even Winter to an extent. Nora put her hands to her cheeks with stars in her eyes while Ruby looked on with wide eyes and a slackened jaw. The soldiers of Atlas were awed as well, but at least tried to compose themselves.

The specialist composed herself first, letting her commanding instincts take over, "Right. Since we know that the only entrance to the Haven is too narrow for one of the monstrosities outside to get in, we're fine there. Though the Imperials don't seem hostile now, we'll have a team of two take watch for the night. I will take first watch while Ruby and Weiss will take second watch."

Weiss nodded while Ruby just gave a soft "Sure."

"Blake and Yang will take third watch."

Yang gained a wide grin as she nudged her partner, who rolled her eyes but allowed a smile to form.

"And Nora and Ren will take final watch."

"Alright." Ren nodded assuredly while Nora gave an exuberant cheer.

"Good. That's all for now." Winter said before she let out a sigh, feeling like she was in heavy chains that just gained a substantial amount of weight, "Get some rest. I have a feeling that we will be in for a rough night."

And with that, the group separated, some going to bed like Ren and Nora so they could get ready for their turn, while other like Sam and Emiko went to their tent to discuss the comings on, while Team RWBY decided to talk about things before they went to bed.

"Man, all of this is too much." Yang muttered as she ran her metal hand through her mane of blonde hair, "That stuff in Atlas, us getting trapped here, learning about the Imperium, meeting Elitras. And, by the way, how long have we even been in the Tower?" She asked her team.

Blake and Weiss looked at each other before the latter answered, "A month? Maybe two? I don't know, I've lost all track of time here."

"Well, the only thing we can do is move forwards... and pray that we can somehow get home." Blake gave her piece, looking utterly exhausted by all that's happened.

Yang nodded and turned to her sister, seeing the uncharacteristically morose expression on her face. So, she tried to cheer her up, nudging her elbow to Ruby's side in a playful manner, "So, Rubes, did you like Elitras' new weapon?"

"Yeah... Yeah, sure." Ruby softly and disinterestedly said as she walked off to her bed in the tents, not even sparing a glance.

Yang's eyes were wide with her jaw slackened while she stared at the retreating form of her little sister, "Okay, now I'm really starting to get worried."

Weiss raised a brow at the blonde brawler, "You mean because Erma, Jaune and most of my family are still missing, and that vile little monster is still out in who knows where?"

"Okay, that." Yang agreed before she clarified on what she meant, "But I meant I'm worried because Ruby didn't start geeking out over Elitras' new weapon."

Both Blake and Weiss' eyes widened as they looked at each other, realizing the same thing and now starting to get as worried as Yang.

---

The Chem Wastes

A thing with pale skin and eyes, clad in rags and chemical tanks, emerald blood spewing out its veins as it screeched out a final blast of defiance, only for a black metal fist to cave its head in with a punch. Meat and slime blasted out as it was released from whatever excuse it had for life, watching the thing clang to the ground as its metal skeleton creaked and broke.

The Sired growled as he shook the sludge off his gauntlet, turning to see the battlefield around him.

It was nothing like the fortress that was he saw in the distance before. The walls were reduced to rubble, pillboxes were currently being breached, gun emplacements barely standing, some of the Scourge cultist detonating their chemical bombs rather than be killed by the Iron Warriors, and whatever monsters that they had brought with them being put down.

The only comfort that Sartile gained from this was that the Iron Warriors suffered heavy casualties during the siege. He and Honsou had been surprised at the sheer lethality that they unleashed with their chemical weapons, at some point unleashing Phosphex on them. The living white-green flames practically melted their armor to slurry and boiling oil, persisting to the point where it took them to collapse the area where the chemical bombs were struck for them to advance.

Despite that, they encountered even more exotic alchemical weapons, including but not limited to an orange gel that can harden into barriers that can resist bolter fire, a red toxic gas that could even bring down a Space Marine, an emerald-colored liquid that acted as both a combat drug and a suicide bomb, and a blue sludge that could melt ceramite like butter.

Even then, Honsou ordered his soldiers to find whoever was responsible for creating such weapons and Sartile could not blame him. But it was not enough to deter him from pushing on and taking the fortress down. It wasn't out of loyalty to Honsou or Corax, nor out of a sense of obligation... he just needed violence to take his mind off the conundrums in his head.

"This is the thirtieth cult that in the wastes that has somehow been able to produce Phosphex." Honsou commented, noting that many cults that they put down had made use of the infamous alchemical weapons.

"I thought Phosphex was impossible to produce?" Sartile found himself saying without his own input.

"It is." The Warsmith confirmed, looking thoroughly intrigued as he picked up an autogun and removed the clip, revealing the bullets with glowing white capsules inside them, "The complex chemical processes required for its creation is only known by the Mechanicus. For these cretins to create it in such abundance is nothing less than impressive."

The Sired merely let out a snort before he turned away, "If it's all the same to you, I'll consider this siege finished. May I take my leave?"

Honsou scoffed but waved Sartile off, "You may, but I will require your services later for Lord Vashtorr." He then gave an interested expression at Corax's currently greatest Terata, "And if you're so inclined you may even join my retinue. I have great use for something like you."

Sartile felt quite a few veins begin to throb while others popped before the bleeding staunched automatically at the thought of joining Honsou's retinue, but he remained cordial at least, "I will consider it." He replied, not even bothering to speech gothic to him before he stormed off.

He walked as far as possible away from the fortress, not bothering to look at the surviving Iron Warriors, who gave no words either. That was fine, none of them had anything to say or do. Sartile grumbled at their lack of reaction to the slaughter, but he wasn't one to criticize. How could he? He slaughtered as many as they did, there was no excuse to fling back at them.

Yet so, he made his way to a part of the blasted heaths, pushing past the wrecks of rusted cars and glowing green pools of toxic death. His footsteps crushed the scrap underneath him, the servos of his armor creaking, the lights in his lenses menacing any of the dregs into the darkness. The sounds of his footfalls were akin to thunderclaps, the hisses from the vents like a million serpents coiling around a weakened mouse, the plates shifted as he stretched his gene enhanced muscles. He felt the knots and joints pop, before he looked around.

The Sired had wandered to an open expanse of blasted ruins, noting the large machines that scoped up piles and piles of junk and scrap into titanic containers carried on hardy tracks that grinded whatever was in the way to chunks. It was then that he saw crews along the edges of the monstrous diggers, unveiling hoses that sucked up the toxic waste pools, presumably on Honsou's orders. Whatever living things that were in the monstrous machines' way were crushed and reduced to paste for more fuel, while smoke and fire belched out of massive smokestacks.

Sartile stared off into the distance in a pondering expression before he dug into one of the pouches on his belt, claws fingers feeling around the contents before they hooked onto something. Something long and thin like string. He curled his armored fingers and pulled, letting it hook on as he extracted it from the pouch, raising in front of his helmeted face.

It was a string necklace with twin large incisors strung upon it, and the scraps of what appeared to be a pink baseball hat.

The only thing he had left to remind him of his former self.

Sartile let out a breath before he slowly lowered it back into its pouch, closing it and letting him ponder on what to do with himself.

Suddenly, there was a massive ear-piercing screech that nearly deafened him. The Sired immediately grabbed his bolt rifle and aimed it at wherever it came from, instincts instantly kicking in as his transhuman eyes darted around in his sockets to identify the threat. The noise came again from the right, causing him to immediately shift to the side, aiming directed at a growing cloud of dust that was rapidly approaching.

Sartile steadied his stance, ready to fire when whatever this new threat was came into range of his gun... before his eyes were wide when he saw what it was when it grew close enough for his scope to see.

It was a small girl with pale white skin and long black hair, irises white and black sclera, wearing a stained white dress, white socks, and black shoes. She had a terrified expression on her face as something was chasing her. And it was only when she was 3 meters away, that Sartile saw what was chasing her.

The monster was another one of Corax's abominations, but unlike the others, this one had a purpose. When Corax realized that it was rather hard to command several millions of mortals to work in these unfathomably inhumane conditions, after several hundreds of uprisings that the Raven Guard had bleed to put down, he commissioned for the other crafters of the depraved to create beasts to keep the ones in the factorum sections in line. They called them, the Bagra.

One of which was currently dashing towards him after the little girl.

The Bagra was something that gave even him, who had seen the worst of the worst of the Tower, pause; it was in the shape of a fox with nine tentacle-like tails ending in draconic-like maws, before its appearance was fully revealed in all its horrifying detail. Its face was a mask of white with red rune-script lining the edges bolted on its head, the rest of its body was composed of auburn fur with various ceramite plates wielded and bolted onto its body, gleaming metal blades for claws on its oddly prehensile paws with armored servos for elbows. A spine of spikes jutted from its back; the tails seemed to be composed of numerous metal plates with sharpened jagged edges and seams, ending in metal fanged maws that crashed together like a compactor.

The little girl screamed as the monster lashed out all nine of its fanged tails, trying to fly away from it before she could be crushed by their maws. The jaws snapped at the girl's hair, severing it at the base of her neck, but it suddenly sprouted back to its original length before it lashed out in tendrils of follicles that attempted to skewer it. They pinged off the plates but dug into the parts of flesh and fur, blood sprayed out of their wounds, but it did little to slow the Bagra down.

Its mouth opened as a massive torrent of emerald flames and acid, with the girl barely dodging it before she was blasted apart by it. She grew desperate and unleashed a kick with the force of a Power Fist at the thing's head, which only created a small crack and jerked its head back. The girl then used her hair to bind it to the ground, and then flying directly above it to keep her distance. Before the little girl could react, the Bagra flexed its body in a way that no skeleton should have allowed, folding its head backwards and unhinged its jaw in a way that seemed impossible.

Suddenly, a massive stream of emerald acid blasted out from the dark pits of its gullet, destroying her hair but she strafed out of the way. Before the girl could react, the Bagra's claw suddenly seized her from out of the air and slammed her down with enough force to crush a building, causing her to cry out from the force. Shaking off her melting follicles, the beast opened its monster's jaw again before a metallic tentacle ending in a sinister syringe slithered out of the darkness.

The needle pierced her arm and caused the little girl to cry out as it exacted a rather distressingly large quantity of blood from her body. After it took what Sartile assumed was at least a pint of blood, it extracted the needle and was retracted back into its grotesque maw. Just then, it's back opened in flaps of flesh with tendons stretched like strings, before a whirling and clanking rang out, revealing a small capsule where Sartile saw the sample fill its empty innards.

And then in a blast of flames, it was launched from its body with a screeching cry and a trail of flames, flying out of sight from this place.

As the capsule left the area, the flaps were closed like the tendons were being pulled by spoils before more sounds came that were earsplittingly mechanical and grotesquely biological, as if its own cybernetics and flesh were warring against each other. Oil and liquid refuse seeped from its seams between the flesh and plates, steam coming out from its fur, its own innards seeming squishing against the metal components.

Suddenly, its jaws hinged back onto its skull before its burning red eyes bore down on the girl again, slime and oil splashing off its fangs.

"EEEEEEEERRRRRRRMMMMAAAAAAAA..."

The Bagra growled, its arm twisting and claws out to strike, rearing its arm back in a reaving strike.

Erma screamed and closed her eyes, awaiting the inevitable. She was so scared. She didn't know what happened before all of these, remembering there was an attack that separated her from her parents, and how she spent weeks running from this thing. It would always find her, no matter where she hid, no matter where she ran, no matter if she tried to fight back, it would always find her and hunt her down. Now there was nowhere left to run.

She was never going to see her parents again. She was never going to get a hug from them again. She was going to miss them so much. Erma could only close her eyes so that she didn't see it coming.

But before she could be stricken by the Bagra, it's head suddenly exploded in a shower of gore and metal. A torrent of black oil sprayed out from the stump as the flesh and cybernetics around the neck tried in vain to keep functioning, only to it to fizz out a spray of dark green goop as the body fell to the ground, its grip on Erma slackening.

Erma, after a moment to see that she was still alive, slowly allowed her eyes to crack open with barely lidded terror. She gasped when she saw the beast collapse to the ground, seemingly dead before she flinched and heard heavy footfalls approaching her.

She turned to see a giant of a man clad in power armor slowly approaching, holding a smoking bolt rifle covered in runes and raven fetishes. The skull helm it was wearing born down into her skull with those two piercing red eyes, before he crouched down in front of her. And Erma was completely caught off guard when it offered a hand to her.

"Are you alright?" He kindly asked her, raising a hand to her head. Erma flinched, thinking that it was about to crush her... before she opens her eyes to see he was petting her on the head.

Erma had a surprised expression before she slowly smiled.

Suddenly, the Balgra's body began to stir to live. The two immediately flinched and backed away, Sartile jumping to his feet and Erma shooting into the air, floating next to him as he aimed his gun at the body.

"Get behind me!" Sartile told Erma, who immediately complied before he even finished that sentence. He kept his bolt rifle trained on it as the both of them backed away slowly but surely as its limbs scraped against the ground, the sounds of gears grinding inside of its body. The body then suddenly sat up, resting on rigid limbs as it shook and whirled.

The Sired kept his rifle leveled at the body, while Erma grasped his jump pack, scared at to what might happen. There was a creak and he tensed, tightening his stance, eye level on the sight of his weapon, finger around the trigger and ready to pull at a moment's notice. Its tails bent and broke against each other, plates bending as something inside it seemed to writhe and worm.

Suddenly, its chest bulged, plates creaking as the rivets and bolts popped out, flaps of flesh falling, bones and muscles tearing away. And then, in front of a horrified Erma and a shocked Sartile, in a shower of gore and cybernetics, its chest burst open, revealing gigantic, sharpened metal legs that bore a horrific resemblance to a spider that then planted themselves into the ground and hoisted the Bagra up. The claws of the thing fell off as did its flesh and other cybernetics, revealing something horrific underneath.

The plates of its tails popped and slide off, revealing metal segmented spear tipped tendrils while the torso was raised into a bipedal position and its other limbs were slowly reoriented into four upper limbs that slowly ripped and torn themselves apart to reveal mantis structures terminating in scythe blades. There was brief shaking and slithering as its bulged while something wormed upwards, pressing against its metal ribs before it came to the neck. Suddenly, silvery tenacles sprouted from the stump of the neck before a massive organ resembling a demented metal heart came through a moment later, replacing the head as metallic plates slowly slid over its gelatinous surface, red cybernetic eyes and a mouth with numerous mandibles seared themselves to its 'face'.

With the transformation finished, the Bagra raised its new head before bellowing out an ear-piercing screech, one that seemed to echo through the air itself.

"Oh, no." Sartile could only mutter, wide eyed behind his helm. He just remembered that they could do that.

Just as the Bagra was finished, the Sired immediately grabbed Erma and sprinted off, his stomps practically leaving craters in the ground while the little girl grasped onto his pauldron for dear life. A screech from behind caused her to turn, before she let out her own screech which in turn caused Sartile to look behind him to see what she saw.

It was coming towards them, faster than ever before thanks to the shedding of armor and leaner frame, its arms reared back to strike at them with a roar.

Sartile swore before he ripped a grenade from one of his pouches and then threw it with his finger hooking the pin that popped off as the explosive flew out of his hand. The Astartes-grade Krak grenade landed on the shoulder of the Bagra's shoulder, before it detonated, engulfing the beast in a blast of shrapnel fire. Neither of them looked back at the explosion as they kept running at full speed towards the closest place out in the open.

The wrecked fortress.

He saw Honsou and the other Iron Warriors trying to recuperate and retreat, not seeing Sartile running towards them from miles away. Thankfully, this was perfect for the two of them as the Iron Warriors likely have the equipment needed to put down the beast. Then, just as they got close enough to the fortress, there was a blast stone as the metal beast came rocketing towards them.

"Hide in the shadows, make sure the others don't see you!" Sartile yelled to Erma, who immediately nodded and shot to a pile of stone where she entered, watching through a crack large enough for her to see through but thin enough to hide her features. The Iron Warriors began to react to him when they said their eyes upon him, which was good, they may be able to deal with the Bagra.

"BAGRA! ROUGE BAGRA!" Sartile roared out, amplifying the speakers of his helm to their maximum volume just so that they don't mishear him.

Almost immediately, Honsou raised his axe up and bellowed, "DEFENSIVE POSTIONS!"

The Iron Warriors immediately took positions against any kind of cover while aiming whatever artillery at the Bagra as it came into view.

"Ready!"

Sartile immediately aimed his sprint to the opening that the Iron Warriors made for him to get through the defensive line. The clangs of the metal against the ground ringing out louder and louder until he could practically feel it.

"Aim!

He then slides to the ground, sparks flying as metal scrapped against metal as he aimed himself to the opening. Heat blossomed behind him as he felt the monster's maw open to fire.

"FIRE!"

The second Sartile passed, they opened fire.

It only had a second to react, but that second was all it needed. The Bagra bent its titan strength legs before launching itself into the air with a bounding leap, as the Astartes swiftly adjusted their aim. This time however it was not so fortunate, several bolt rounds hitting its chest and arms, ripping plates away while its blade arms slashed away whatever rounds that hadn't detonated yet, letting it slip through and land near the Iron Warriors.

They were ready however, as instead of panicking, they merely reoriented their aim and struck the chest and head, blasting away its lower right and upper left arms before it then took the heads off of three Iron Warriors. It then spun away, flipping over as another volley of artillery came towards it, but one of its legs was shot in the joint, blasting it off and causing it to stagger.

This action nearly cost the Bagra its life, as they did not let up the steams of concentrated bolter fire. It only had a second to bend its way under the bolt rounds, ducking its whole body as it whipped around like a band. Before it whipped back up again, it raised both of its remaining arms over its mouth before biting down, crushing the ceramite plates before then with a swift jerk-

RRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIPPP!

CRASH!

It ripped its limbs off in a spray of oil and scrap and threw them at the Iron Warriors! The Astartes only had a second to dodge out of the way before the scythe limbs imbedded themselves in the metal and rock around them like wheat. The few that were struck were staggered or taken out of the fight, while the rest immediately went back to putting it down.

Before their eyes however, the stumps burst into tentacles that coiled around each other, forming into a clawed arm each. The organic arms planted themselves into the ground before throwing its whole body into the air, dodging another volley from the Iron Warriors and then whipping around before lashing its head tentacles at them. The tentacle pierced through the unprotected joints of their armor, drawing blood while keeping them binned to the ground, though it still felt their herculean strength resisting it.

Unfortunately, it had neglected to consider one thing. Their leader.

Waking for the right moment, Honsou let out a bellow as he kicked off from the edge of a pile of scrap metal. The Warsmith flew towards the Bagra from behind and swung his daemon axe with a mighty heave, the beast being entirely unaware.

SKKEEEK

"RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!"

Its entire torso was bifurcated in a spray of gore and cyberware, the arachnoid legs falling away as its cleaved body fell to the cold and apathetic ground. However, that was not enough to slay it as it sprouted more disturbingly organic tentacles, combined into a massive pair of raptor-like legs. It barely managed to get back on its feet before it was assaulted again, grenades flying out to the beast who then whipped away in a test of its new limbs. It then leapt a bounding leap at Honsou, who spun and blocked with his axe and arm, striking the first with the latter and then slashing the thing's new thigh with the former.

The Bagra roared not in pain, but fury before uppercutted the Warsmith who managed to get back on his feet and then blocked a downward strike with his Necrodermis arm. And then he saw the monster flare out all of its tentacles in a frenzy of silver, coming from all angles like a maw of metal. And the Warsmith then rolled forth, his axe slashed through the legs of the beast again, severing them at the ankles.

It spewed out muscle and sinew before reforming into raptor feet, scissor kicking Honsou away who barely managed to land back on his feet and then blocked two more strikes just as it was about to unleash another flurry of blow.

Suddenly, the beast was then shot in the shoulder, the round blasting the limb clean off its body. It screeched as organic bubbles appeared, popping into another limb of slimy flesh that attempted to last out at whatever had shot at it. However, the tip of the tentacle was reduced to giblets of sashimi before it truly saw who had assaulted it.

Sartile reloaded his bolt rifle, still between the barriers where two other Iron Warriors were positioned behind cover, before aiming it back at the Bagra, "Come here, you big son of a bitch!"

With a mechanical roar, the Bagra dashed towards Sartile with its head tentacles randomly slashing at whatever it could see. Without an ounce of fear, Sartile began to slowly advance closer, firing his boltgun with each step but despite the Bagra's armor beginning to chip and fall, the frame withstood each hit.

The Sired didn't care, he kept his gun trained on the Bagra as it got closer and closer, firing shot after shot. More of its armor was blasted off, organic material swiftly replacing it as more and more of its cybernetics were rendered useless by the rain of bolter fire. It didn't even stop the Bagra who steadily got faster and faster, to where it was akin to a blur of motion.

Suddenly, it was bifurcated, and its left arm was severed. Sartile couldn't even blink in shock as time slowed down, his eyes turning to a black blur that had cleaved into the beast. It was Honsou's axe, blazing with daemonic essence as it spun in the air, awash in an aura of crimson. Behind the monster, he saw the Warsmith with his arm in a position like he had just thrown something, a grin on his face.

However, just as the axe was about to hit the side of a wall, it stopped for a nanosecond before changing directions, bolting back towards the Bagra. Like a blur of crimson and night, it slashed through air like a blade of unreality and material before it chopped through the head of the Bagra. The head slowly was parted from the rest of its body, ichor and oil spewing out like they were torrent of black and green before it came tumbling down like its body.

It came to his feet, blood spilling out while the cybernetics fell away, revealing the core entirely. It was akin to a mercury-like shine, tumorous and shifting liquescently with numerous tentacles that whipped and lashed out at the air, akin to a sliming profusion of limbs. It squirmed and writhed in ooze and oily waste before it let out a squeak when Sartile stomped on it with his boot and aimed his bolt rifle at it.

Just as he was about to finish it off, its core lashed out one of its tentacles at him chest, piercing through a weak point in the torso plates. Blood streamed out of the wound, but it didn't even get a grunt of pain from Sartile. What did was a mouth that suddenly formed on the base of the core that then bit down hard on his left arm, teeth piercing through ceramite and into his bones, nearly fracturing the limb.

"GRRRR..."

Sartile growled out as he tried to wrestle his arm out of the beast's mouth, feeling its strength overpowering his own as the tentacle in his chest speared closer and closer, not enough to pierce through the plates of bone that covered his hearts and lungs. He felt the cells in his bloodstream slowly trying to push out the tentacle in his chest, only for it to drive itself deeper. It had him in a bind, his rifle being forced to aim away as he had to use both arms to slowly wretch the jaw off, his right arm squeezed against the tentacle that was driving itself into his chest.

And that gave it more time to start regenerating, to where its throat and face was already reforming. Those burning red eyes bore into him like the fury of a thousand stars, as it slowly overpowered him.

Suddenly, there was a black blur that passed through it a moment later. Time slowed, and it was then that he saw it was a tentacle of sorts, but to his surprise, it was composed not of flesh or steal, but from follicles of all things, raven black and flowing like water. And then the partial body of the Bagra burst apart like a rotten sore, exposing the core once more.

Seizing the chance before it had a chance to start regenerating, Sartile immediately shoved the barrel of his bolt rifle into the heart of the core before squeezing the trigger.

The entire core was blasted apart like a balloon of mercury, spilling onto the floor, little more than slurry. Suddenly, the flesh attached to the core began to blacken, before dissolving into slime and rotted meat, all mixing into a vile pool of alchemical bile. The mouth that was biting down on his arm slackened before dissolving into the blackened slurry after Sartile shook the mess off his arm.

Honsou marched up to him just as he pulled the thin tendrils out of his chest, his axe leaning on his left pauldron, "Impressive."

Sartile did not have it in him to be disgusted by that compliment, merely giving a grunt as he holstered his bolt rifle, "Thank you."

The Warsmith merely gave a sharp nod before he turned to the other Iron Warriors, some of whom were helping their brethren removed the limbs that the Bagra had thrown at them, "We are done with this siege! Prepare all remaining equipment and artillery for extraction. We will return to the Central Command Center for repairs and maintenance."

The other Iron Warriors nodded and those that were not helping or being helped began to march off. Sartile meanwhile decided to assist the Iron Warriors in recovering their staggered brethren, lifting the arms that weight about twenty tons like they were noting but paper. Not one of them verbally thanked him, all he got were short and curt nods from the other Astartes as they were helped to their feet or pushed themselves to their feet.

He expected as much from them... But that didn't mean it didn't irk him.

After the other Astartes had left the area to finish preparing for departure, Sartile merely allowed himself to sit down on a large piece of metal, feeling the creak of his armor's joints as he moved around. Just then, he noticed a pair of eyes peering at him from a pile of rubble and scraps, from a seam where he could see the orbs of white with the thin lines of black that had fallen out. Slowly, very slowly, she slithered out of her hiding place, looking more scared than ever but he also saw relief in her eyes as she came closer to him.

That look in her eyes, he almost hated it. That innocent look that he saw from kids at the age he was before he was ripped into this horrid place by that dark presence that was the Raven Guard. But he did not remember how old he was, only that he was merely a child. If times were different, she and he could have been amazing friends, but here he was: his body morphed into one that was two heads taller than Bobon Marjanović and three times the muscles of Dwayne Johnson, pale skin that was either grafted on or sprayed on, while she was still that little girl, changed only mentally by what had happened to her.

He saw her then, innocent and whole, before a jealousy blossomed inside of him. Then another part of him screamed at himself for feeling jealous that she did not suffer like he did, and that he should feel ashamed to feel that someone should suffer as he did. And then another part of him then screamed out that suffered greatly over the period where he was trapped in the Tower, and he was entitled to how he felt.

Yet still, Sartle merely sat there, doing nothing as the ghostly girl floated towards him, looking more curious by the moment before she sat down on his pauldron. He didn't move, just turning his helmed head to her. She flinched lightly before her eyes grew curious again, her hands feeling around the helmet and the seams at the neck or back.

He let her; she could not hurt him even she meant to, but soon she saw felt around a seam where the latch that would open his helmet was. Sartile was almost tempted to stop her, but he felt an odd sense that he could relax around her. Erma slowly pulled the latch, causing the hermetic seal to be undone with steam and air hissing out before she slowly lifted it up.

When it was raised past his forehead, Erma let out a gasp before she looked around for something. Her hair billowed out as the tentacles of black follicles searched around the area, grasping onto numerous objects and items before she seemed to find what she needed. It was a massive shard of glass which she carefully held up in front of his face. The face that stared back caused him to blink.

It was the first time ever since that horrid time, Sartile finally saw what he looked like.

He had incredibly short bleached white hair on his scalp, chalk white colored skin that was unnaturally smooth and marred with darkly colored scars; two Glasgows that scratched to his ears, one running down the right eye to his chin, one across a surprisingly normal-looking nose, a diagonal one across the forehead, one shaped like an X on his chin, one running across his neck, and a final one running down the left corner of his lip.

His eyes were the most frightening, resembling oily black pits of hatred with irises of pristine white. His teeth were akin to that of a shark's, resembling painted white arrowheads in pitch black gums. He attempted a smile... only to cringe. It looked like he was about to eat a man's face with that smile. And judging by the way Erma flinched, she thought the same thing.

Suddenly, he heard the sounds of heavy footfalls which caused him to turn to the source. The second Erma saw this, she dropped the glass shard like a hot rock and hid behind Sartile, who stood up with his helm tucked in his arm. As the steps grew louder, he saw an Iron Warrior emerge from the opening, looking as robotic as always.

"Sartile, the Warsmith and the band is ready to depart." The Iron Warrior revealed, sounding as monotone as the iron he represents, "We will be leaving within 15 minutes."

The Sired merely gave a curt nod before he watched the Iron Warrior leave back to the group. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he forced himself to prepare for another grueling battle within the Tower.

He took eight steps, his helmet still in his hand... before he suddenly ceased, feeling someone staring at him from behind. He knew it was her, on some fundamental level he knew, but he turned to see her anyway.

Erma was standing there, looking at him with those puppy dog eyes through her raven hair. Maybe she wasn't even trying, maybe it just came naturally to her due to all the pain and suffering that she faced in here. Maybe losing her parents or other loved one to the Corpse Grinders, or some other horrible fate that was the result of the cruel machine that grinded them apart.

Suddenly, her eyes watered before they were covered by her bangs, then he saw the tears trail down her chin, her lips curling as she fell to her knees. Erma began to sniffle and sob quietly, her hands slowly going to her face as he heard her mind begin to cry out for someone, anyone. For her mom, for her dad, for someone named Felicia, for anyone out there with even a modicum of compassion.

Sartile stared at her, finding himself unable to think when he looked at her before he then forced himself to turn away and walk back to the other Astartes. But suddenly, he couldn't move. He didn't know why. It's not some kind of psychic influence, he would have felt it. But then he realized what it was, it was his own heart and mind that kept him from walking off.

They were screaming at each other, screaming at him, screaming at his emotions, screaming at the coldness that was his conscious mind, screaming more and more as the two sides burned and raged at each other. Fire and ice flooded his veins as one tried to overpower the other in a war of emotion and pain. Erma hadn't stopped, but she couldn't see it even if she wasn't crying. Sartile's fingers curled into a fist, the points driving into the crack in the ceramite palms of his gauntlets, and he grit his teeth so hard that they nearly bled. Blood was pumping faster from his two hearts as he tried to contain the raging emotions inside to no avail.

Each side was beating at the other so hard that he shook with each strike and shift in his head. It became a storm that was growing and rampaging through his thoughts without end and without end. It kept raging on, more and more, wilder and wilder before a victor soon immerged from the chaos in his mind, screaming his name out for all his head to hear.

"...Godsdamnit."

Erma was still crying, before she heard his heavy footfalls. She slowly peered from behind her hands, revealing her teary eyes that looked up to see him staring down at her. Still staring at her, Sartile then slowly crouched down in front of the surprised Erma, before he extended a hand to the little girl, who gently grasped the armored finger with both of her hands.

"Come with me. Come." The Sired gently says to Erma, who looked up at him with tearful eyes. He tried to give her the gentlest smile he could, which not a simple task given the grafted-on and artificial skin and messed up facial nerves wrapped around his skull, but it seemed to work as she seemed to tear up at his words. All of the sudden, he flinched back as Erma tackled him in a hug. Or did what she could with how wide his torso was.

Feeling her tears trail down his chestplate, the Sired then gently wrapped an arm around her as he slowly stood up. Holding Erma close as he walked to join the rest of the Iron Warriors, Sartile whispered to her, "I will protect you. I am your friend."

Erma hugged him even harder at that, the two merely venturing on in silence for the rest of the way.

---

The Haven

"Leave me alone!"

"Come on, Ruby! Talk to us!" Weiss implored as she and her teammates trailed off after their frustratingly stubborn leader who was speed walking away as they gave chase. Ever since they saw her reaction (or lack thereof) to Elitras' spear, they have been trying at every opportunity since they woke up when she seemed like she was willing to talk, but every time she dashed away with her semblance or just ignore them entirely. Suffice to say, this was causing endless frustration for both parties.

"Look, I said I don't want to talk about it! Can you please leave me alone?!" Ruby shouted at them, very uncharacteristically. Before they could get in a word, Ruby activated her semblance and warped off to whatever place away from here, leaving behind her distraught and incredibly frustrated teammates.

"Okay, this clearly isn't working." Blake stated after she raised her arms up in exasperation before letting them fall to her sides, just as frustrated as her two teammates.

"What is with her?!" Weiss demanded out to no one in utter frustration, "She's never been this stubborn before!"

Yang also looked incredibly frustrated, but that bellied how utterly worried she was at how stubbornly her little sister was refusing to open up... before a look of realization hit her.

'Is... is this how Ruby and dad felt when they watched me fall apart?' Yang thought, feeling self-loathing at remembering what she was like after the Fall of Beacon.

After she was framed during the Vytal Festival and Adam had cut off her arm, she fell into a depression that lasted for months on end. Nothing that her family did to cheer her up worked, just made her more pissed off and depressed. She couldn't even summon the strength to go to the funeral for those that had died during the battle, something that she wishes she could go back and kick the shit out of herself for. It was only thanks to realizing Ruby was in danger in Mistral that she finally snapped out of it.

And now she realized that what she went through was the same thing that Ruby was going through.

"Oh, man..." Yang put her metal hand to her face, realizing the full gravity of their situation, "Guys, I think I know what's wrong with her."

Meanwhile, Ruby was by a cliff that bordered on the edge of the Imperial's side of the Haven, curled up in a ball with her eyes pressed closed to tightly that tears began to form. Her mind was raging with all the memories of her failures, not just in Atlas, but in Beacon and other times when she failed to be a hero. Pyrrha's death, Yang losing her arm, Blake running away, Weiss being taken away, the battle at Haven, Salem telling her about her mother's death, both of Penny's deaths, and Atlas's fall all flashed in her mind, like a beast gnawing at her mind.

All that she did, all her struggles with her friends and family, all of what she been through... what did it all lead to? Atlas and Mantle were sucked into this place, several civilians from both places were dead, they were trapped here with practically no way home, and it seemed like they were all destined to die here.

Why? Why did she keep screwing up? Why did nothing go the way she hoped it would go?

She never meant for Ironwood to descend into tyranny, she didn't mean for them to be trapped here, she didn't mean for all those people to die. All she wanted to do was help people. Ruby promised her mom that she would be a hero like she was, so why did she keep screwing up?!

Ruby would have kept mentally berating herself before she suddenly heard the sounds of boots crushing stones and jagged metal. She turned and blinked at the sudden arrival of someone.

A man with red hair and eyes, a full beard and mustache stood up clad in a red dress shirt and black buttoned up vest under a red leather trenchcoat with the imperial Aquila printed on the back, black slacks with knee length red leather boots with numerous leather straps. And then she saw the golden spear in his hand.

"Elitras?" Ruby whispered, pecking out from her arms.

"Um..." Elitras pursed his lips together, just giving an awkward smirk, "Hey."

"...Hey." Ruby muttered quietly as she put her head back in her arms, not wanting to speak to anyone right now, "Can you leave me alone?"

"Well, I'm currently off duty, so no." He replied as he put his spear aside and sat down beside her. Ruby attempted to scowl but couldn't even bring herself to do it, especially when he put a hand on her shoulder. After he took his hand off, Ruby leaned against his arm, trying and failing to hold in her tears at her situation. She didn't know why but she felt like she could speak around him.

"Hey, Elitras?" Ruby whispered, knowing that she got his attention, "Do you ever feel like... like everything you've done was just a failure? That despite everything you did, it all just amounted to nothing?"

"Believe me, I've felt that more times than I can count." The Acolyte replied with a rueful expression, getting Ruby to look up at him in surprise, "Every monster I slayed, every champion I felled, every cult I squashed... sometimes, it just feels like nothing you do can stop it. Sometimes, it feels like it's the same thing forever and ever."

The red reaper looked at him in quiet surprise. He felt the same way she did? All the burdens, all the weight to shoulder the world, he felt it too?

"...So, then what's the point?" Ruby replied, sounding so filled with emptiness and despair, "What's the point if there is always going to be just another threat?"

Elitras was silent for a moment, but his reply stunned her into silence.

"Because if I don't... then who will save those who can't save themselves?"

The girl stared at him with silent awe and shock, but a depressed expression then came over her face and looked down. 'You're not good enough!' Self-doubt still flooded through her, beating down her optimism as thoughts and words 'You could have saved her!' kept hammering themselves into her head 'Why can't you stop ruining people's lives?!' like a snake biting into her mind.

"Ruby..." Elitras seemed to sense her inner turmoil as he put a hand on the girl's shoulder, trying to comfort her, "Even the heroes need saving sometimes."

Ruby just gave a miserable look at him but said nothing.

Suddenly, as if sensing something, his eyes grew wide before he kicked Ruby away. Before she could act shocked, a blade came down and impaled the spot where she was sitting just moments ago. Whatever was holding it then ripped the blade out from the ground and then attempted to slash at Ruby who dashed away using her Semblance, warping back to Elitras before she gasped when she saw what it was.

It looked like a demented clown, but it was so thin and stick-like, covered in diamond patterned jester's outfit of black and pink, a black frill collar with pink spikes, marble skin with a jester hat possessing long bell tails, a pink fanged mouth that nearly took up the whole face. In its black gloved hands were two bloody cleavers, each the size of a small child, seemingly begging their master to kill. It then let out a demented raucous laugh, twirling them as it looked at her like a cow about to be slaughtered.

Ruby backed away with a terrified expression as it twirled its blades and attempted to slash down at her, barely surviving as she scrambled away just as they embedded themselves in the ground. Suddenly, there was a series of gold slashes that ripped through the clown. It only had a second to blink before it was reduced to finely chopped giblets.

The reaper blinked as the chopped pieces sprayed black and pink ichor before they disintegrated into nothing but multicolored flecks.

Ruby blinked before she saw Elitras' arm holding the Spear in such a way that it indicated he swung it. Before she could thank them, more of these daemon harlequins came into being from shadows and shards of pink, all laughing dementedly as they brought out their jagged blades. More and more kept appearing by the dozens, all grinning with bloodthirst and sadism.

"N... Neo?" Ruby squeaked, backing away in terror as Elitras took a stance, unafraid of the horde of pseudo daemons.

Suddenly, there was a volley of las and bolt fire that slammed into the horde of monsters, ripping them into pieces and letting them disappear in blasts of black and pink smoke. Ruby wheeled around to see the Imperial guardsmen and the Astartes in battle positions and aimed their smoking guns at the horde. She was flabbergasted at how quickly they had organized before one of them shouted:

"Behind you, Rose!"

At the shout, Ruby whipped around to see something that make her freeze. Another clown-like creature, but this one had a feature that struck terror insider her; not its chest tentacles nor its spider-like limbs, but the female face of chalk white skin with black cracks, black eyes with red irises, and flowing white hair sitting on its neck, grinning a monster's grin.

It looked like Salem. Ruby's pupils shrunk as a memory from when that Grimm infiltrated Ironwood's office came back to her.

"That was what your mother said."

The thing's grin reached its ears as it reared its limbs back to skewer her.

Before it could attack her, a black ribbon then wrapped around the creature's neck before being yanked back, stopping its horrid limbs from impaling Ruby as they splayed on all sides. Just as its attack was stopped, Blake came down and pulled it back before Weiss came down with the summoned sword of her Arma Gigas, slashing it in half before Yang came from behind, blasting its head to pieces.

As the three landed in tandem while the monster disintegrated, Elitras gave a nod, "Not bad."

"Thanks." Yang replied. before they saw more and more of the monsters begin to rise from the shadows. Not only were there monsters resembling clowns, but dolls, toys, twisted shadows, and demented versions of the Grimm.

"Gear up, Rubes." Yang tells Ruby with a serious tone as she threw the folded-up Crescent Rose to her little sister before they all launched to fight. What no one had seen was that Ruby dropped Crescent Rose like it was a hot rock with a panicked expression.

A creature resembling a demented doll rose up as twin long and spindly arms merged from the chest, claws-like and with black tips. Blake immediately unsheathed Gambol Shroud and held both blades at the ready. The arms paused for a moment before they swiftly returned to the hole they slithered from, only to reemerge with one of them holding a Sai and the other one doing a "Bring It" taunt, causing Blake to oblige.

The hands lashed out at her, but Blake ducked and slashed them away before she lashed out the ribbon, seizing it by the neck and then flipping up, using the katana configuration to slash through its head. Just as its head erupted in its spray of black and pink, the beast's entire body seemed to unfurl into a flurry of limbs that attempted to slash her to ribbons, seemingly succeeding in impaling her on multiple points. Suddenly, Blake grinned before she disappeared in a puff of black, causing the beast pause in confusion before it was barely able to see the real Blake flying down towards it. It only had a second to scream before Blake cleaved it in half with a spinning slash of both blades.

One clown attempted to chop down Yang with its blades, who blocked with her Necrodermis arm before she blasted it in the chest with her remaining Ember Celica. It disintegrated before she then grasped the limb of another monster that she ripped off and then uppercutted its head off with her metal hand. Suddenly, the pink and shadow vapors that sprayed out coiled around Yang's alien metal arm, seemingly charging it up with Warp power.

Yang grinned at her glowing arm as her hair blazed with her eyes red before she threw her fist at the nearest of these monsters. All the stored power in her fist then blasted out in a massive orb of dark purple with golden flames that then barreled through the demented things like a 1000-degree knife through butter. They all screeched but could do nothing as they were blasted away.

Weiss ran on a continuous stream of her white glyphs, using them to run on and fire flechette storms of ice feathers on the beasts below. One of them resembling a ballerina in black with marble skin shot up at the former heiress but it beheaded and disarmed when she summoned her Arma Gigas' sword. Just as it fell, Weiss swiveled around to see a massive serpentine doll with tendril-like arm that lashed out at her, barely blocking the strikes with her massive sword and several white glyphs before it could reach her. Another one came up behind her as it unfurled several limbs of knives and spikes, grinning widely as it prepared to strike.

Before it could, Winter, her eyes blazing with green fire, came diving in with two rapiers alight with elemental magic. Just as it turned to her, its entire upper body was reduced to pieces before the elder Schnee then threw one of her flaming rapiers at the other one's head, blowing it to pieces. When Weiss saw this, she turned to see Winter land on one of the glyphs beside her little sister.

"Thank you, sister." Weiss smiled at her older sister, but before Winter could reply, they saw more monsters coming.

Elitras kept slashing more and more, cleaving away the body of another clown, before he ducked under a stream of lasfire that eviscerated the next few monsters in front of him. Just as he twirled back up, the Acolyte saw that Ruby was practically frozen, looking around like a deer in the headlights. Suppressing the urge to groan and rolling his eyes, Elitras flashed towards Ruby, pushing her down as he thrusts the spear into a clown that was had appeared where her head was just a second ago, impaling it through its face.

Just as he retracted it from its disintegrating face, Elitras tried to shake Ruby out of her stupor, "Ruby! RUBY!"

That seemed to stir the red reaper out of her trance, her eyes coming back to focus before she stuttered, "W-wha-huh?"

"Come on, get your head in the game! We don't have time for this!" He finished before he forced her down as another hail of bullets and lasfire came over them, crisscrossed with Atlesian power rifle fire. The two rushed away in a flurry of rose pedals and a flash of red light, before he forced Crescent Rose into her hands and said, "Get over it and come on! We have to kill these things!"

Ruby stuttered before his words at least got her to unfold Crescent Rose into its scythe configuration.

Just then, they heard a yell mixed with psychotic laughter. Looking up, the beasts all saw Nora rocketing down towards them with her hammer drawn back and a grin of crazed excitement on her face, before she rammed her hammer down to the head of the largest of these things, blasting nearly its entire upper body apart. Before the other monsters could react, Nora shifted her weapon into its grenade launcher configuration and fired, sending a fist sized grenade into the chest of another monster before it exploded just a few seconds later.

Before another beast that resembled a doll with needle arms could strike from behind, a cord ending in an emerald blade wrapped around its neck just as Ren came flying in just a moment later, unloading Storm Flower on its head that then burst into black slimy chunks. Just as it began to disintegrate, the black-haired man jumped off the creature and met with others.

"Where are these things coming from?" Ren asked to anyone that knew before he was suddenly tackled out of the way by Nora just as a fusillade of tentacles lashed out at him. The others immediately turned to see more monsters coming their way and took stances in preparation.

Suddenly, one of them, that resembled a ragdoll, bulged like a filling balloon before it burst into a cloud of blackness, nearly blinding them. Elitras put a hand up when his eyes were blinded, trying to brush it away and then attempted to use his laser vision to blast them away. The others were having trouble seeing as well, due to the particles in the cloud, with even Blake's night vision having trouble.

Suddenly, the black and pink particles swirled around into tentacular shapes, lashing out through the blackness like predatory beasts. Before any of them could react, Weiss, Yang, and Blake were ensnared in the tentacles, ripped off their feet as they screamed in surprise. The smoke cleared only for Ruby to see her team be dragged into the arm of a newly forming beast, this one nearly resembling the Hound.

"Ruby, help!" Weiss yelled as she and her teammates struggled against the tentacles binding them.

Ruby gained a determined expression and dashed towards the beast, hoping to cut it down and saving her friends. However, just as she came close, the beast's face warped and split before it revealed something.

It was a face, snow white skin with wild white hair and black cracks at the sides of her cheeks, blood red irises on black sclera, and a small sinister smirk.

Ruby yelped in terror and dropped her weapon, backing away in terror at the face. Suddenly, the face unfurled like a flower to reveal another face, this one having fairer skin with one eye pink and the other eye brown with pink and brown hair, grinning a vengeful grin. Ruby's pupils shrunk as a hand appeared and drew a line across her neck, before it let out a demented howling laugh and then dashed off to escape.

"RUBBYYYYYYYYYY!" Her sister yelled as it shot into the other side of the Haven, somehow warping the mile-thick walls into a small tunnel that it disappeared into, taking _WBY with them.

The red reaper could only stare at the spot where she saw her team had been taken just as the mist began to lift to reveal the other, who were confused by the suddenness of the dissipation. The beasts remaining suddenly then dissolved back into the black motes that swirled away into the opening that it created, just as the defenders slowly relaxed in confusion at the sudden retreat.

"Where did they go?" Winter asked in confusion before she immediately noticed that her sister and her two teammates were gone, "Wait, where's Weiss?!"

"And where's Yang and Blake?" Nora asked in a confused tone as she looked around to see that they were nowhere in sight.

Just as they regained the bearings, one of the guardsmen walked up to his leader, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. "My lord?" He asked before he pointed to the massive tunnel at the side of the wall.

"Oh, no..." Elitras breathed when he saw the hole before he motioned for Winter to follow him, both of them immediately flew off. The man in red leaving a trail of red while the woman in white flew on twin jets of ice and fire before they came to the entrance of the newly formed tunnel, seeing it go through the cliffside where the Haven hid in, before they entered.

The entire thing was wide enough for a squad of Space Marines to get through without impairment, the walls almost resembled melted wax and fanged maws, orange light rimming on the walls as the two got closer to the exit. They then came to an opening that extended out into a pathway seemingly composed of melted metal shaped by some ethereal sculptor, flowing out to some part of the Tower both near and far while plumes of orange fire blazed out from factorium silos that blenched smoky death. The two then looked at each other for just a moment before they flew back to where they came.

Back at the Haven, Emiko peered out of her hut with Sam, both of whom looked alarm when the fighting died down like all the nonfighters in the camp. Sam followed slowly while Emiko took to the air and came by to see Elitras and Winter land by the other fighters where she then saw Ruby on her knees. Worry began to course through her as she saw Ruby refuse to respond when he tried to stir her back to reality.

"Ruby, are you okay?" Elitras tried to get her back to reality, but she seemed to be catatonic almost, making him shake her harder to rouse her, "Ruby? Ruby, are you okay? What happened to Weiss, Yang, and Blake? Ruby? Ruby!"

His words echoed in her head, beating inside her skull before it finally burst out like a bomb.

"Okay, fine!" Ruby blurted out, looking to a surprised Elitras, "I choked! When that thing exploded, I saw that thing snatch Yang, Weiss, and Blake! B-Before I could help, that... thing used Salem's face! I tried to help but I was too scared to move! I-I just choked, okay?!"

That seemed to set Elitras' features as he calmly replied, "Okay." He seemed way too calm for anyone's comfort. Regardless, they all turned to see the entrance to the tunnel where WBY was dragged away.

Unable to keep her eyes off the way that they were taken, Ruby sat in silence, letting her crimson tipped locks flow in the wind as she said, "So what now?" She feels their gazes on her, "What do we do now? Us, me, and you, what happens now?"

Her gaze lifted to Elitras, almost pleading as the rest of them turned to him as well. His expression was stony, impossible to read before he uttered, "Go to hell."

Ruby looked like she'd been slapped, while the non-imperials looked at Elitras with appalled expressions, especially with Ren and Nora and Sam and Emiko. But before they could voice their protests, the cloaked girl choked, "Fair enough. ...Absolutely fair enough."

She got up, attempting to use her semblance to get away, but found that her guilt prevented her from even doing that, making her scoff in bitterness and self-loathing. But before she could take another step, Elitras continued, "Ruby."

The cloaked girl turned to the Acolyte with a bitter expression, before blinking when she saw that he had a confused look on his face, "You asked what we're going to do. And I told you, we're going to hell." He pointed the Spear of Telesto at the area where the beast had dragged WBY away, many noting the fiery resemblance to the fire and brimstone afterlife of the damned, "That place down there is going to be hell, but we're going in anyway."

Ruby blinked, but before she could say anything, the crimson haired Imperial suddenly ramming the shaft of the Spear of Telesto to the ground, "BLOOD ANGELS!" Elitras yelled to the Space Marines nearby, causing all of them to stand at attention on instinct, "Will you follow me into hell?"

"WE ARE WITH YOU, MY LORD!" Damian yelled with all the power of his three lungs, raising his Chainsword, the Wing of Sanguinius, to the air, "TILL DEATH! TILL THE END OF ETERNITY ITSELF!"

The other Astartes bellowed in agreement as they signed the Aquila as Elitras doing the same as he nodded, "Good men. Now stock up on ammo and grenades, we descend in ten minutes! The rest of you hold down the fort and take defensive positions! The noise from the battle may have drawn attention to the camp!"

Just as the red clad Astartes nodded and went to the camp to stock on ammunition and grenades for the trip, Elitras felt someone staring at him. And when he turned to see a wide eyed and slack jawed Ruby, who whimpered, "You're... you're going to help me?"

"Of course, I'm going to help you." Elitras said with a causal shrug, rolling his eyes in exasperation, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because of what I did!" Ruby exclaimed, unable to stop the tears from her eyes, "I-"

"You choked," He cut her off, "You let your insecurities stop you from being a hero, you didn't have the guts to stand up and fight like you used to, you couldn't summon the strength to hold up or use your weapon, you let your teammates down!" Elitras listed off, compounding Ruby's guilt even more.

"...So, why are you helping me?" Ruby asked, looking more like a sacred little girl more than ever.

"Why?" Elitras looked at her like she was an idiot, "Did you really think I care so little that a single mistake like that would make a difference?"

Ruby's jaw slacked as the tears came back in full force. Before anyone could react, she suddenly tackled the Acolyte in a hug, sobbing loudly into his coat. Elitras, still standing with her arms wrapped around his chest, merely smiled while he ran his hand through her crimson tipped hair.

Emiko stared at him with a surprised expression, before it melted into a smile.

---

The Titan Smelters

Yang's eyes slowly blinked open, groaning lightly when she felt the cold metal beneath her. However, she heard a moan beside her, weakly turning her head to see Blake lying beside her, slowly waking up as her amber eyes peered out of her closed eyelids. The two barely managed to sit up and regain their bearings, still dazed by the fight before.

Another moan came out, making the two turn to see Weiss laying on the hard metal ground, rubbing her head before she slowly regained her bearings. "What the hell..." She trailed off when she and her teammates saw where they currently resided.

They were currently in a mansion of sorts, but unlike Weiss' family mansion, this one was, for lack of a better term, browner and made from wood rather than the white and marble of the Schnee Manor. Not only that but they noticed that this one had an aesthetic that was more in place with Vale than Solitas, along with a painting in the middle of the room that caught their eye.

It showed a brown-haired man with a short cut and brown eyes while wearing a black business suit, a pale-skinned woman with brown eyes who wore her light brown hair in a bun while wearing a white dress with a matching white pearl necklace and a triskelion pin, and finally a little girl with brown eyes and her brown hair in pigtails, and her clothes consisted of a brown dress with dark brown cuffs and a white collar with a black ribbon attached to the collar with matching ribbons in her pigtails.

More details about the place include a massive polished wooden table with a bunch of wooden chairs, having tea pots, cups, a veritable buffet of fine food, plates, and silverware. The girls look at each other before they slowly approach the table, slowly sitting down on the chairs, waiting wearily for whatever was to happen next.

"What is this place?" Yang asked to either of her friends, finding herself suffering from whiplash after having spent months eating whatever they could find to now having a buffet of actually decent food in front of them.

"I... I don't know." Blake could only give a shrug, looking around with suspicious eyes, knowing that this could be a trap.

Weiss stayed quiet, looking around for any sign of a trap... before she noticed something that caused her to freeze. "Uh, guys?" She whispered, getting the attention of her teammates, "Was that painting always there?"

The two then followed Weiss' gaze to the wall opposite of them where they saw what she was saying. It was a tall portrait of Roman Torchwick, damper as ever with the frame having floral scroll patterns, resting innocuously on the wall. The three stared at the painting with incredulous expressions, wondering why the hell that painting was here in the Tower.

Suddenly, the painting's eyes darted to them.

The girls yelped in surprise before the Torchwick in the painting start moving, adopting a laidback posture with a charismatic smirk. "Hello, Team RWBY!" He smirked at seeing the shocked reactions and taking pleasure even their even more shocked faces when he stepped out of the painting, "Jeez, you all don't look so good. You all look like you've seen a ghost."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the koi fish-like gaping that Weiss, Blake, and Yang gave at seeing him. The man tipped his bowler hat before he said, "But then again, there's still one more guest you should meet."

Before another moment could pass, they heard the sounds of a woman softly sobbing. They all turned to see a blond woman with fair skin and blue eyes, clad only in a couple of brown rags with no sleeves, her arms bound to the armrests and her head down with her bangs covering her face. Any other person would be confused on who this woman was, but due to the Relic of Knowledge, _WBY knew exactly who this was.

"SALEM!?" The three yelled in unison and surprise, unable to believe that the Grimm Witch was back to her original form.

"I know!" Roman chuckled as he swaggered down to the blond witch, who flinched at him touching her shoulder, "After Corax was done with her, the witch's dark essence was ripped out of her like a tumor. Don't believe me?"

Suddenly, a blade sprouted from the tip of his cane that he then swung into Salem's arm, severing it at the elbow. The blonde woman yelped in pain as blood spilt for a moment before it slowly flowed back into her arm as it reattached itself to her elbow. She seethed and tested her arm, before she could only give a withering glare at Roman, who merely smirked.

Yang was the first to snap out of her stupor, glaring fiercely at the apparition of Roman Torchwick, "What the hell's going on here?! Where are we and how did you that... painting thing?!"

Roman only gave a low chuckle as he produced a cup of tea and stirred it with a spoon, "Just wait and see goldie."

---

(Fallout 1 OST - Industrial Junk)

"This way!" Elitras yelled as he and Ruby, along with the Blood Angels as they traversed the walkway created for them. They were over what appeared to be a massive pit filled with skyscraper sized piles of junk that spanned farther than the eye could see, plumes of blazing fire and oily black smoke rising from the ground, bile spilling out from great machines that ate scrap and refuse like meat.

However, upon further inspection, a horrible truth was seen; they were piles of broken machines and broken bodies. Billions and billions of dead crushed between scrap and machinery, coagulated blood and fluids acting as mortar to hold them together. None of them seemed to be the same, either too large, too small, or too mutilated from the heaves of metal and other bodies above it.

Barely seen were metal claws that came from the underground and took in several tons of scrap and meat, pulling it into unseen jutting maws that began chomping down and feeding it to the smelters and sending it up to the forges for production of new equipment. Burning towers of monstrous belching death were placed between random piles, something mephitic and blasting with heat, and... things resembling massive beast chowing down on the scrap and waste that the ground did not. Claws of baneblade size dug into the mountainous piles that fell into fanged jaws of Scout titan size, crushing them to slag in the superheated infernos of their stomachs.

Ruby clung to him like a scared little girl at the sight beyond them, "What... what are those things?"

"The failures." Elitras said in distain, "Many people are dragged into the Tower. Those that survive are transformed into his abominations for eternal service. Those that fail simply die. And to be honest... I can't tell which is worse."

The crimson tipped girl gulped before she clarified, "Okay, but I kinda meant for things that were eating the trash."

"Oh, those." Elitras explained, "No one knows where they came from. Maybe they were things from another dimension, maybe they were something Corax made, or something else entirely. All we know is that they literally shit something called Necroplasm and a bunch of other valuable materials. And we named them the only thing that could be named; the Devourers."

"Disgusting beasts." Damian growled out as he and the other Astartes looked at the lumbering giants with loathing.

Ruby made a disgusted sound before they kept walking on in silence. Just as they got to the end of the bridge, the group came to what appeared to be a forest of sorts, the grass purple as bristling in the wind with purple trees with neon green, pink, purple, blue, and orange, with a pathway splitting it in half of a lighter shade of violet. And at the end of the road was...

(End)

Both Elitras and Ruby stared in dumbstruck surprise before the latter pointed a finger at the end of the path with a slack jawed expression, "Is that... a mansion?"

There was indeed a pink, extravagant manor sitting in the middle of the forest, free from any stains or grime from the pits around it.

"Well, it certainly-" Elitras was cut off when massive pillar-like spikes speared from the ground in front of him and the Astartes, cutting them off from Ruby. Ruby squeaked in surprise, trying to use Crescent Rose to cut the spikes but she couldn't get at a good angle to cut through as they were tightly packed together. Before they could act, more of the pervious monsters began to spawn from the ground and begin to attack.

"Oh, not now!" The crimson haired man growled out, brandishing his spear at the creatures while the Astartes used their chainswords or Power Weapons in place of their bolters to conserve ammunition. "Ruby, go ahead! We'll deal with these freaks!"

Ruby hesitated before she looked to the mansion and then back to the group until she finally managed say, "Be careful!" Seeing him nod, Ruby sped off with her semblance, none of them seeing a shadow with tendrils of hair coming out like black blades.

---

In but a second, the red reaper managed to get to the front entrance of the mansion. Just before another moment could pass, Ruby reared her leg back and kicked the door open, ripping it off its hinges and letting her see the inside of the mansion. Stunned for a second by the... cleanness of the place, she immediately snapped out of it when she saw her friends and a blond woman sitting at refectory table.

"Guys!" Ruby called out to them, speeding to the table before she took in the sight of Salem, "What-"

"Hello, Red."

The girl froze, before she slowly turned around to see Roman standing behind her, both hands on his cane and smirking at her. Ruby yelped and stepped away, her eyes wide with her pupils down to pinpricks, fainting grasping the edge of the table, while Roman got closer. "W-wha...?"

"Surprised?" Roman grinned before he continued, "Can't blame you. It's been weird being dead."

Ruby shook her head and aimed Crescent Rose at the clone's head who gave an amused look, "Where's Neo?"

Neo-Roman chuckled, "Yeesh, no manners. And after everyone came out to see you!" His voice echoes as he motioned to the refectory table, before Ruby and her team all gasped, seeing certain people at the table: Penny Polendina, Pyrrha Nikos, Leonardo Lionheart, Clover Ebi, Ozpin and General James Ironwood. Each of them has a plate in front of them.

"Salutations Ruby~" The Penny clone said happily.

"Hello again!" The Pyrrha clone said cheerfully.

Neo-Lionheart is seen fiddling with his lion tail before he looks at Ruby and sits up straight. Neo-Clover adjusts his clover badge.

"Ms. Rose." The Ozpin clone acknowledged as he pushed his glasses up.

"Why don't you take a seat?" The Ironwood clone offers kindly.

Ruby looked at her teammates with a scared look, something that they all shared but Yang motioned with her head to the chair, not knowing what else to do. The red cloaked girl just gulped before she awkwardly took the seat Ironwood's clone offered, watching with wide eyes as a plate of food slowly floated to her hands with a fork and knife. The four just awkwardly ate the food, with Neo and the clones doing the same, while Salem ignored hers entirely. After finishing their meals just a few minutes later before Ruby whispered to her friends.

"How is she doing this?" She asked any of her team, who all only had silence to give as they were as stunned as her at the extent that Neo's powers had grown.

Roman chuckled, causing Ruby to twirl Crescent Rose from its scythe configuration into its sniper rifle configuration at Roman and the others in a blind panic, "Reality's gettin' fuzzier by the minute, kid. Y'know once Neo realized where she was, everything changed. Always loved the idea of a place to run away from it all. Do whatever you want." He sits down cross-legged on the table between Lionheart and Clover, "I offered that to her back on Remnant." But then he gives a frown) But we all remember how that ended.

Ruby had an angry look on her face, "Is that seriously what this is all about? You still blame me for what happened to Torchwick?!"

Neo-Roman growls.

"If you're looking for an apology, you've wasted your time!"

"Yeah!" Yang shouted out to wherever Neo was, whose clones sneered at her, "You're not the only one who lost things during the Fall! I lost my arm, Pyrrha and who know how many students died, Beacon was destroyed, and Vale was practically ruined!"

"But it wasn't just Vale, was it?" Neo-Roman asked, causing the girls to flinch, "What about Mistral? Or Haven? Or even Atlas? What about those places? Why did you leave all those places in ashes?"

The girls all looked away in shame, Salem even more so. "Ozma..." Salem said, staring at the clone of Ozpin before she closed her eyes, tears pricking up and then trailed down her cheeks, "I'm sorry... for everything..."

But Ruby shook her head, standing back up.

"Is that what you want? Revenge? Well, if you want me dead, come get me." Ruby says with a scowl, raising Crescent Rose into its scythe form before she suddenly blinked in confusion when Roman laughed.

"You don't deserve to die, Red. You deserve to be broken down, torn apart, wiped from existence."

Suddenly, the entire mansion seemed to shake and crack away, like a great beast were rupturing the ground. Before any of them had the chance to react, chains sprouted from the walls and wrapped themselves around the arms and legs of the girls and Salem before they were dragged to the wall. After they yelped at the impact, more chains wrapped around their waists to fully restrain them to the walls.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Ruby yelled in alarm when suddenly the walls behind the clones began to crack apart.

Before Ruby could even back away in fear, the entire wall came down to reveal the entirety of the vast scrap fields. Then more quakes came as one of the beasts that eat the garbage came closer and closer, having a round lipless and lidless face with charcoal black skin and lusterless lavender eyes, trunkish legs, shifting and heaving plates with tubes and pipes, and long grime covered claws.

The whole thing was capped off by the sight of someone coming out of the darkness and sitting cross legged on the table.

"I'm gonna enjoy watching you break."

The clones suddenly said as they all stood up and in unison while they along with Neo smiled cheerfully.

---

Damian roared as he swung down the Wing of Sanguinius, the teeth of the chainblade chewing through the warp flesh of the beast, black and pink ectoplasm spewing out while it dug through the head, neck, and body. Just after it died, he grabbed the head of another beast and crushed its head in a vice, popping with pink slime spraying out like a pressure washer before he threw its body at another beast before it could begin disintegrating.

The Spear of Telesto then speared through the head of one clown-like beast that appeared behind him, his lord jumping on his shoulder and catching the weapon's shaft in one swift motion. The two then twirled in akin to a dance, slashing through several beasts like a pair of jaws ripping into the carcass of prey. A path seemed clear to advance while the three Blood Angels wove their chainswords into a cavorting dance of the reaper, cleaving through them without mercy.

Elitras tried to beeline for the mansion, only for another horde of monsters to appear from the trees. The warrior growled in frustration, raising his spear to strike them down... only for his eyes to widen as raven hair spears impale them all. He turned around to see Emiko floating above him, retracting her hair tentacles and landed to the ground.

"I don't have time to explain!" Emiko told him, "Go save the girls!"

He nodded. "Right!" After that, Elitras speed off in the brief moment he had before more monsters came from out of the ground.

Emiko gave a concerned look at the sight of him getting to the mansion, before she readied her hair blades when more of Neo's beasts emerged. Just then, one of the Astartes, Damian as she recalled, came up beside her with his chainsword raised. And behind him, the other two Battle Brothers coming out behind him, blades raised with the teeth whirring.

"I see you chose to join us, ghost witch." Damian said as he stared at the oncoming horde of circus themed creatures.

"Indeed, I did. Is that an issue?" She tersely asked the Space Marine.

"If you are not prostrating the Heretic, then no." Damain replied even more tersely before he and his brothers launched themselves at the beasts with the onryo not far behind.

---

The clone of Ironwood shot at her as she sped around the mansion, "Who were you to think you knew what was best for Atlas?"

"I was the best and brightest Beacon had to offer. But I traded my life so that my friends could live!" Pyrrha said as Ruby was shot down causing the latter to hang to the chandelier. Pyrrha then throws her spear at the chandelier causing it to fall and Ruby to scream in pain as her aura is seen depleting.

"RUBY!" Weiss screamed, struggling to against her bonds.

Neo-Penny continued for her, "Just like you were too late to save me at the Vytal Festival...I died in Atlas, too... Didn't I?" She looked down at Ruby, "Can you imagine what that's like? To be completely and utterly failed time and again by someone who meant the world to you?"

"STOP IT!" Yang roared out, her hair blazing and her eyes scarlet as she struggled against the chains.

"How many more people are going to die because of you?!" Neo-Pyrrha swings her body around Miló javelin and delivers a kick at Ruby, sending her to the wall. She struggles to walk along it.

"RUBY, DON'T LISTEN TO THEM!" Blake utterly screamed, not caring to maintain her aloof demeanor anymore and struggling to get out of the chains.

Ruby took the strike, weakly saying, "I'm trying to save everyone!"

But she was punched in the gut by Neo-Ironwood, who then pins her to the wall, "And yet with all your best intentions, have you ever stopped to wonder if you've done more harm than good?" The clone of Ironwood throws Ruby to the floor, which cracked as her aura strained to protect her.

"NEO, PLEASE STOP THIS!" Salem screamed out, tears coming out of her eyes again.

Ruby weakly tried to say, "It's not my fault…!"

Neo-Ozpin interrupted her as he relentlessly beats Ruby with his cane, "How many more lives do you have to ruin?! Before you realize you're not cut out to save ANYONE?!"

Suddenly, the clone was beheaded when a flash of gold went through the neck, severing it cleanly off as a stream of pink and black vapor sprayed out. The other clones and their creators all stopped in shocked. Ruby blinked in shellshocked surprise as did the other women before they turned to see the blur of gold imbed itself in the wall.

It was the Spear of Telesto.

Just then, the weapon suddenly wretched itself out of the wall, twirling back like the blades of a gold rotocopter before it flew back to its wielder, who was standing in the doorframe.

"Sorry I'm late." Elitras said with a glare that could blaze ceramite after he then caught the spear in one hand and stomped the butt into the ground.

Neo glared back before all the clones she produced launched themselves at him, weapons drawn and expressions matching hers. But just as they came close to him, Elitras twirled the Spear when its movements suddenly became a furious blur of gold and red before returning to focus. Just then, they were all diced apart into finely chopped giblets and dissipated into the pink and black mist. Before Neo could even gape in shock, he appeared in front of her in a flash of red and scissor-kicked her in the chest, nearly shattering her aura and sending her flying through the walls and, from the loud crushing sounds of it, into a pile of rocks.

"Ruby! Ruby!" Elitras immediately dashed to the red reaper, who was still sprawled on the ground. He puts his hands on her shoulders and shook her slight after he crouched down, trying to stir her back to her senses but she still seemed shellshocked, barely focusing on him.

"It's all right, Ruby. It's over now." He said as that seemed to rouse her back to her senses.

"What? I'm sorry…" Ruby closed her eyes and moves her body over, "I don't want to be me anymore."

Elitras sighed but knew that now was not the time. He looked up to see the girls all chained up and runs to the wall, "You guys, okay?"

"Yeah, but we can't break these chains!" Yang yelled, still struggling but not as much now that Ruby was safe.

"Hold on, I'm gonna get you down!" He rose his spear to cut the chains but before he could, pillar-like spikes of purple and pink shot from the ground, blocking them from him.

"You?!" The voice of Roman came out, causing both him and Ruby to turn and see something coming from the darkness.

Roman's clone had changed, burning pink eyes with his orange hair faded and his teeth needle-like, hands enlarged with katana-like claws, ragged ribbons waving behind him like cat tails. He was twitching, jittering, jerking, shifting, lips pulling to his ears while the teeth wriggled like insect legs and fingers twitching. Darkness almost bleeding out of each space and his legs obscured by black fog that seemed to form jawing jaw and tendrils.

Neo's hair had lost all the pink and brown was now a pure white with dark purple hues, same with her skin that had dark cracks, both sclera dark with one iris white and the other was a burning pink. Her clothes were in an even worse state, now resembling bleached rags with her arms and legs a darkened purple, even her umbrella seemed warped with jagged edges and trims. Only Roman's hat seemed untainted by the Warp.

"Wha-what happened to her?!" Ruby cried out in fright, practically clinging to Elitras' leg in terror while she heard her friends and Salem loudly gasped at her true form.

Her friend scowled, "Warp taint. She's filled with it. Just hold on here and try to get your friends down." Elitras told her, standing up and twirling his spear before slamming the butt into the ground.

Neo growled out, each step dragging shadows from the floor and adding it to her own while Roman seemed to float behind her. Elitras was undaunted, striding towards her with his entire body practically irradiating red arcing energy. The two stopped just inches from each other, each of them glaring at each other like they were the bane of each other's existence.

"Let's get it on."

The corrupted girl and her creation grinned widely before they blitzed at him, attempting to strike from both sides but they were blocked by the spear and his leg, and he proceeded to strike them both away. Roman attempted to strike at Elitras with his claws but the latter nonchalantly blocked them with his spear while blocking and kicking away a strike from Hush with his other leg before kicking her away. Neo suddenly somersaulted over Elitras, dodging a swing from the Spear of Telesto, landing on Roman's hands who then launched her straight at him in a piercing strike that he barely avoided by swerving his head away and then thrust his spear at her stomach, which she avoided by spinning away.

When she landed, Roman leaped up, revealing it to be a feint and dived toward him with his claws poised to strike, but Elitras raised up his spear in but a nanosecond later, blocking the strike before it could hit him. But then, it was revealed to be another feint to leave him open as six clones of the corrupted midget appeared with their copies of Hush poised to strike at all sides of his body. Just as they all charged in, Elitras kicked Roman away and let himself fall to the ground, watching the six blades miss him before he swung his spear in a full 360, bisecting the clones as he spun up to his feet.

Suddenly, Roman's claws extended out like tentacles, piercing through Elitras' remarkably durable skin and through his shoulder. He let out a slight grunt while Ruby screamed in horror, also hearing the other girls gasping in shock, before he cleaved Roman's hand off with a swing of his spear. The clone didn't even grunt as tentacles of darkness wove around the stump and formed a new hand while the old one dissolved, leaving the wounds on his arm to begin weeping blood.

"Well, that smarts." Elitras muttered, his pain tolerance now so high that this doesn't faze him. Still, this was bad; the tensons in his shoulder were severed and that newfound healing factor of his seemed to be pretty damned slow given that he was only just starting to feel the cells attempting to pull them back together. And she seemed to notice, given how her grin seemed to widen before it turned to a frown when he positioned himself front of Ruby.

"Why the hell are you defending her?!" Roman spoke in both his and a woman's voice at the same time, "Do you have-"

"Oh, don't bother." Elitras cut her off, silencing Neo whom both her and her clone of Roman looked stunned, "I've heard it all before. 'This man wronged me.' 'This whore took everything from me!' blah, blah, blady fucking blah! It's all the same shit as everyone else. I don't know what happened to you and I don't care. Look at you now. No way home, no friends, no family, nothing. Thus, here you are, filled with Chaos taint and hate, no dreams, no hope and no future."

Neo glared at him with such intensity it was almost like she was about to explode, but Elitras then scoffed at the ice cream midget and finished with three cold words.

"You're just empty."

Neo froze at that statement, as did the constructs she produced. And Team RWBY. And Salem as well.

Suddenly, her expression turned into one that was so utterly filled with fury that her aura flared like a blazing furnace, a snarl that twisted her face, her eyes burning with pink flames. Elitras could see something else happening in the Warp, like her soul was forming maws and devouring random streams of Warp energy to add to her power. The flames around her soul began to glow brighter and brighter to where the shadows flitting in the Immaterium began to flee in fear.

Before he had a chance to react, Roman's clone began to darken and spasm, the sounds of false bones and joints cracking rang out, his eyes and mouth burning orange before his head deformed in a slurry of pink and black slime. Then it warped into a hunchbacked thing with a grinning-cat face, bulging out and bulking up until it resembled nothing like the smooth-talking orange haired criminal. It slunk behind Neo, now resembling a vaguely humanoid shape but with a hood-like head with finger-like trims that hid a smiley face of orange as one of its ropey arms raised a growing fist.

At seeing this, Elitras gained a resigned expression as his posture and shoulders slackened from the sight before he muttered in a deadpan tone.

"Ah, fuck."

The fist from the mutated Torchwick clone hit like a Power Fist, nearly caving his whole torso in as he was sent flying. As his momentum was halted by the nice soft adamantium wall behind him, which outright cracked from the force of the impact, Neo was on him before he had a chance to recover. He only had a second to fling his limp arm in the way before Hush pierced between his radial bone and ulna, not even stopping when he headbutted Neo with the force of a speeding garbage truck that staggered her for a moment and ripping the umbrella blade out of her hand.

Siezing the chance, Elitras swung the Spear of Telesto down in an arc of gold and red but to his shock and frustration, she nimbly dodged out of the way, just as he attempted a kick. Neo brought her arms up, but the kick nearly broke the limbs in two, with her Aura barely able to hold itself together as she slid back, and her heels dug in to halt her skid. Before she had a chance to use Roman, he aimed his glowing eyes at the beast, which was about to rear back a fist, unleashing a blast of red at it that practically blew it in half.

Eye wide, Neo was unable to react in time when he kneed her in the jaw, before he delivered a punch, a kick, a roundhouse kick, a lighter blast from his eyes, and headbutt, slamming her down to the ground, her aura straining to the point of breaking. But before he could spear her in the gut, Neo flung herself out of the way and rolled to the side. Desperate to beat him, Neo kept pulling in more and more Warp power, strengthening her Aura to the point where she was practically wreathed in pink flames.

Now she was really feeling the pressure from taking in so much Warp energy, even as it began to mend her wounds and give her more strength. She saw her fingerprints moving like liquid, feel her insides writhing like a mass of worms, the blood in her veins sizzling and set to a boil. Still the flames grew brighter and brighter to where she let out an inhuman bellow, the walls beside the opening she created burst into veils of fire.

Elitras glared before he flung his arm up, catching Hush's handle with his teeth and then with a harsh yank, he bloodily ripped it out his arm before spitting it to the ground. With that done, the red warrior raised his spear up with his single working arm after wiping some blooding flowing down his lips, "I didn't hear a fucking bell, did you?"

Neo's borderline psychopathic grin, along with her glowing pink eyes told him everything he needed.

Suddenly, dozens of dark tentacles appeared and speared towards him faster than he could react, leaving him with using his limp arm to shield himself from the fusillade of black limbs. Before then he saw her charging in with Hush in her hand, the blade wreathed in pink flames with a wide grin on her face. But before either it or the Neo behind him, attempting to use the distraction to strike, could reach him, Elitras swung the Spear of Telesto in an unorthodox manner, slashing apart the tentacles and rolling out of the way of the two.

But before he had a chance to attack again, the sludge beast that was once her clone of Roman reformed into a blunt pillar that speared him in the gut, sending him flying into the wall near Ruby, who shrieked in horror at seeing him crash above her. Before he could even get out of the newly formed crater, several spikes formed from the walls and pierced through his limbs, pinning him to the wall while causing him to cry out and drop his spear. Not giving him a chance to react, the sludge beast pinned him and forced him to aim at the ceiling when he fired his eyebeams in an attempt to strike her, keeping it there until it petered out.

"AnY lAsT WoRDS!?" The monster screeched in his face, having the same crazed look as Neo did.

Elitras' response? He collected all the blood in his mouth before he spat it down on Neo's face. She flinched, recoiling at the sudden splatter of crimson blinding her for a brief moment before wiping it off with a darkened sleeve and glaring him, one that he gave back with equal force as he growled, "DO YOUR WORST!"

Neo and the beast clone's grins practically eclipsed their face as the latter raised its Lighting Claw blades to smite him down. Elitras refused to give them the satisfaction of terror as he glared down at them, too drained to use his eyebeams, his limbs too mangled to break out its grip, his spear by Ruby's feet. But before the blow could be struck, something else intervened.

"WAAAAAIT!"

The claws stopped just centimeters from Elitras' face, who didn't even flinch.

"Neo, wait!" Ruby repeated, extending an arm out with tears in her eyes, "He doesn't deserve to die for me! You want me, right? So, please, don't kill them! Kill me!"

Her team looked at their leader like she was insane, but Neo grinned at her, speaking through her monster, "GoOd ChOiCe." And with that, the spikes retracted from his limbs and she had her beast fling Elitras away like a sack of dead weight, slamming into a wall and tumbling down to the ground with a grunt. Elitras let out a pained sound as he tried to pull himself back up, feeling the blood of Sanguinius writhing in his veins and trying to get him back into fighting shape, before he saw a tentacle of blackness wrap around Ruby who never fought back.

"RUBY, NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Yang screamed at the top of her lungs, horror flooding her veins along with her friends who struggled against their chains.

Ruby just gave her sister a look that had the blond flinch in horror. Her little sister just looked... tired. Her eyes dead inside. She was just tired of losing people, tired of failing to be the hero that she promised her, tired of the weight put on her.

"I'm tired of fighting, Yang."

That single sentence made all the blood in Yang's veins to turn to ice, near catatonic with horror. Blake's eyes went wide, her expression one of horrible realization as tears began to build and run down her cheeks. Weiss was similarly stricken with shock, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks at hearing such a thing coming from Ruby of all people.

Neo gave a smug grin at the helplessness of all of them before she was about to send Ruby to her fate.

"NEO WAIT!" Salem screamed, giving the corrupted midget to pause just for a moment, the blond woman had tears running down her face, "Please, I've done so much wrong. So many centuries wasted on my revenge, so many moments of happiness given up because of my bitterness, and so much else. I told Cinder to cause that attack that cost you Roman! If you want someone to blame, then blame me, not her! Please!"

Neo scowled before her monster spoke for her, "Fine. But after she dies first."

Ruby did nothing as the sludge beast slowly brought her near the opening, her captor ignoring Salem's screams of protest, where she gasped when she turned to peek. The Devourer whose attention Neo caught was just a few hundred feet away, lumbering to the edge of the cliff where the mansion laid. Its lidless eyes focused on her after it ate a piece of the nearest pile, rusted junk on its teeth that was dissolving away from the emerald saliva slicking it fangs.

"NO! Ruby, no!" Elitras screamed, trying to stand but his legs were still healing from being mangled like his arm, only able to watch.

"Hey, Elitras..." Ruby said, looking to him with a sad smile, "Promise that you'll get them home, okay?"

"No, Ruby! Ruby!" Elitras refused to accept her death, attempting to get up but his legs still wouldn't budge, 'Heal, damn you! HEAL!'

Ruby smiled sadly, sad that he still tried to save her even if she didn't deserve it. It was the same with Yang and her other two teammates, desperately trying to break out of their chains, calling out her name is desperation. The tentacle slowly extended out in the opening, letting her hang over the Devourer's maw, staring at her as it drooled and moaned with hunger.

"Scary, aren't they? I'm scared of them too. These beasts are cursed with a hunger that will never be slaked." Neo spoke through her beast, grinning wider than possible, "So, do the one thing that you can ever do right, and just DIE!"

The second after, the tentacle holding her up unraveled, letting the red reaper fall into the waiting Devourer's jaws. It looked at her like how one would view a simple morsel, yet it opened its jaws anyway to snatch her in its maw. Breaths stopped, Neo's grin began to bleed from how far it stretched on her face, and a sister's scream broke the silence.

"RUUUUUUUUUUUUUBBBBBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" Yang screamed at the top of her lungs, tears running down her face as she desperately tried to break out of her bonds.

'Yang, Weiss, Blake... Don't cry over me...' Ruby thought as she watched the teary and desperate shouts from her friends and the horrified look on Elitras' face, letting a single tear fall while she smiled in acceptance of her fate, 'I promise... I'll always be by your side...'

And with that, she closed her eyes and let herself fall into the maw of garage door sized teeth. At least, she would see her mom again and all the people she lost in her journey. But before she could be snatched into the devourer's jaws, a shout rang through the air, one loud and burning with human emotion that caused her to open to her eyes.

"RUBY!"

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl, Elitras' feet moved on their own, not caring for the pain that surged out from the fractures in his leg bones. Coming to the edge of the cliff in the blink of an eye, he jumped off the ledge in a mad dash and then rocketed towards the abomination's mouth in a streak of red, the Spear of Telesto on his back and his good arm extended towards a shocked Ruby. Just a moment later, he pulled Ruby into a hug, keeping her tightly close to him as the jaws of the beast began to close.

The red reaper's mind went blank from shock, eyes wide as she was held close by this man that gave up all he had and all he ever would have just to save her.

'Do...' Ruby thought as tears pricked from her eyes again, regret flooding her soul after her sorrow vanished, 'Do you care that much?'

The beast's maw clamped down on the both of them in but a second, trapping them in its throat as the pulsing metallic plates mimicked the motions of swallowing. A pause... and it moved on to the next pile of scrap, like the two lives it consumed with nothing but a forgetful event. All was frozen, all was deaf, all was silent in fleeting, agonizing moments as horrified eyes looked on before something broke it.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Yang's scream was utterly deafening as her rage burned so hot that her aura blazed, before she yanked her arms with so much force that the chains burst into heated fragments. The force of her action shattered the wall and undid the chains from the others, causing the women to yelp and fall to the ground as Yang landed on her feet and practically transformed into a blast of yellow that rocketed towards the uncaring Devourer like a comet.

"RUBY! RUUBBBBYYYYYY!" Yang bellowed out as she blinked out the tears in her eyes, running more and more despite the monster lumbering away. Blake immediately got up, the broken chains sliding off her before she dashed to the rampaging blonde, using her semblance to close the gap before tackling Yang down before she could jump off the cliff towards the now retreating Devourer who was now seeking more food.

"LET ME GO! I HAVE TO SAVE HER! I HAVE TO SAVE HER!" Yang roared as she struggled against Blake's grip, breaking free for a moment that she tried to use to jump to the Devourer.

"YANG! YANG! SHE'S GONE!" Blake shouted, getting the blonde to stop after the raven-haired Faunus wrapped around the woman she loved, "It's too late!" She gripped Yang tighter as tears came from her eyes, pressing her face into the blonde's shoulder while forcing herself to whisper, "It's too late..."

The red in Yang's eyes died before slowly morphing into a melancholic blue, tears coming down her eyes in streams. Staring at the spot where her sister was devoured before her eyes, she whispered softy, her voice filled with absolute sorrow, "No... No..." The blonde brawler was unable to contain her grief anymore before she began sobbing in Blake's arms, who held her tightly as she cried with her.

Weiss fell to her knees, a devastated expression overcoming her face while tears of guilt and regret fell down her cheeks. She couldn't form any words, her mind was blank, only letting memories of their times together play through her head. All those times that Ruby helped her out of her shell, all the times that they joked around or argued or even were just friends, all those things that they went through together. For the first time in her life... she truly felt cold.

With an expression of overwhelming guilt and remorse, Salem lowered her head as the previous tears returned in full force, gripping her cloak so tightly that it nearly ripped. All strength left her legs as she fell to her knees. She was given yet another reason to loath herself.

Suddenly, the repaired door to the mansion was burst open by a fist of hair as the roughed-up Emiko and the three Astartes stormed in. Just as they did, Emiko was immediately greeted by the sight of Team RWBY, minus their leader, and a blond woman kneeling on the ground crying, Ruby's scythe on the ground, and she and Elitras were nowhere in sight. Emiko's mind immediately pieced things together, her hands came over her mouth and tears pricked from the corners of her dark eyes, falling to her knees as her shoulders shook in sobs.

The three Blood Angels were silent, coming to the same conclusion as the onryu woman. Damian, the leader, merely sheathed the Wing of Sanguinius and reached for his helmet, gripping the seams before he slowly lifted it off his head. Damien had dirty blond hair in a crew cut, his face marked by a burn scar on his left cheek and a vertical one running through his eye, his expression like stone but a small tear ran down his cheek.

"Why?" Weiss whispered, getting Blake and Yang to turn to her, "Why did he do it? He barely knew Ruby. Hell, despite us following him, he never got to know us that much... so why did he jump in after her? Why did he go after her when he knew she was doomed?"

"Because he cared."

The girls turned to see Damian with his helmet off, his features stony but his eyes holding a melancholic tinge, "Some men don't need a reason. Some men's bodies move without them thinking, almost on their own. Maybe it was the same with him." The three girls merely nodded sadly as they continued to mourn their leader.

Neo kept staring at the spot where Ruby and Elitras fell into the Devourer's mouth, at first a smile of utter psychotic glee bloomed on her lips... before it slowly fell off her face and was replaced by a distraught expression. The strength in her legs began to drain away as she slowly sat down on the uneven stone, unable to stand as her eyes wouldn't leave the Devourer even as it turned its attention to a skyscraper sized pile of rocks nearby that it began eating. She couldn't even think, let alone do anything else as her constructs faded due to their master's feelings of emptiness.

She tried to feel something, anything, desperate to feel satisfaction at finally avenging Roman. But nothing came to her, not even a flicker of joy. All she felt was the breeze of the machine generated wind through her disheveled white hair with brown and pink streaks, and the enraged stares of the crying WBY as Damian restrained them from attacking.

For so long, she wished bloody revenge on that girl for everything that she'd done to her, for taking away her Roman. The Roman who saved her from her parents, who only saw her as little more than a tool for them to use. The Roman who took her in when no one else wanted her. The Roman who was always at her side. The Roman who was taken from her during the Fall of Beacon.

That fire that was born, that burning desire for revenge, that urning for some form of emotional catharsis. It consumed every thought, every waking moment, everything that she ever wanted and ever will want. Her revenge is what drove her to follow Cinder into this hell, just to feel something about all the things that she did, all the power she gained, everything she ever did since the Fall.

Yet now, seeing it fulfilled... she felt nothing. She kept staring at the spot where the thing that had devoured Ruby and Elitras fell into the abyss, seeing the beast eating whatever it could see.

For Neopolitan, for Trivia Vanille, for Roman's right hand... now she truly has nothing.

However, the beast suddenly seized in place, puking out orange fluids as it screamed and writhed in agony. This slowly caused all those present to slowly break out of their somber mood as they moved to look closer, seeing the Devourer grasp a random pile while clutching its chest with another hand. It puked up another bout of orange stomach acid that dissolved a baneblade sized portion of another pile, getting a cringe out of everyone except the Astartes.

Suddenly, a massive blade of crimson energy burst from the monster's stomach in a blast of blood and stomach acid, before whatever was gripping it dragged the blade across the thing's chest. The Devourer let out a screech that nearly ruptured everyone's eardrums, collapsing onto the nearest pile of scrap. Everyone watched as the creature's chest burst open like a rotten wound, before something wrenched itself out from its bowels.

It was Elitras, covered in blood and gunk, with an unconscious Ruby in one arm and the Spear of Telesto with a gargantuan telescopic blade of crimson energy emitting from the tip in the other. And before they had a chance to gape, the crimson haired man flew the sleeping reaper into the air, away from danger like a red guardian angel. But what stunned them all was the vast wings of brilliant ruby energy that hung behind his back, blazing and swaying in the machine wind like a tempest of fire.

Slowly, Elitras descended to the mansion with the crimson blade disappearing, the non-Imperials looking at him with wide eyes while the three Space Marines immediately bent a knee and bowing their heads. A moment later, he gently touched down while his energy wings dissipated in a brush of the wind, setting down the Spear of Telesto while holding Ruby in both arms. Team _WBY staring with wide eyes and agape jaws, Yang tearing up at seeing her little sister alive and well while Emiko practically collapsed in relief, tears freely falling from her face.

"By the throne, did it stink in there." Elitras breathed, standing up for them all to see as he kept Ruby steady. No one noticed him having some blood on his lips and a small strip of flesh that disappeared into his mouth just a second later.

Neo kept staring at him, her mind blank from the shock of seeing him tear his way out of the stomach of a Devourer. All that work, all that planning, all of this time... wasted by this... bastard. Just then, a fire bloomed through her veins, rage consuming every neuron in her brain before she leaped at him with Hush in one hand and the other hand out like they were claws, ready to rip those two to shreds.

Suddenly, before she could attack the pair, Neo was suddenly slugged across the face by Yang's silver fist, her Aura shattering when she was sent into the wall. Neo barely got out of wall before Yang's blood and bone fist fired a shot from the Ember Celica, barely swinging her body out of the way from a kick and a clotheslining strike. This was all she could do with her aura shattered, attempting to draw in more Warp power, but she was cut off when her foot caught on a crack and that let Yang's metal fist spear into her chest.

In the milliseconds as it took for the punch to connect, her silver fist warped into a cannon that pressed into Neo's undefended chest, breaking her ribs before it began spooling up with power. The corrupted woman did not have a chance to react before Yang's fist expelled a massive blast of yellow that pierced through Neo's chest, clothing and flesh disintegrating as it belched sheer death through her entire body.

Neo upchucked a cough of blood as a look of utter agony was on her face as she stared into Yang's crimson eyes. She stumbled away, the blast barely missing her spine, most of her organs were gone, the pain flooding her like a tsunami while her mind tried to stay active. Desperately, she began pulling as much Warp energy into her body as she could, hoping that the influx would heal her but before it could...

"Say hi to Roman," Yang growled as she reared her Necrodermis fist back for a punch, "IN HELL!"

The fist suddenly gained thick spikes just nanoseconds before she threw it, rocketing like a spear wreathed in Warp fire. Neo didn't have a chance to dodge, only able to watch as it pierced through her shattered ribs, ripping into her chest, the spikes piercing her lungs. And with but a pull, Yang ripped Neo's heart out of her body, blood splashing out like a gout of red.

The heart was still beating but had been changed by the effects of the Warp. It was now black as night, cracks filled with glowing emerald, that arteries flailing around like false arms, and gushing purple gunk. Neo could only gape and futilely stretch her arm out to the glaring blond, who held up the heart for her to see.

"Sorry to say, but your heart wasn't in the right place." Yang punned with a sneer before she squeezed, popping the mutated heart like a ripened grape.

Neo coughed, blood spilling out from her mouth, eyes, ears, and nostrils, feeling the life bleed from her. Suddenly, the pain was gone, she felt so light, before she felt a hand on her shoulder. And a voice that she had longed for came back.

"Hey, Neo."

Her eyes widened, her flayed vocal cords barely making any sound, "Roman?"

A chuckle came into her ears before orange hair came into her vision.

"It's okay. You're safe now. It's time to come home."

A content smile slow came to her face.

"See you soon... Roman..." Neo whispered before she lost all strength, letting her legs give out and carry itself to the ground. Her weapon clattered to the ground before she fell, bouncing lightly before she soon went still. The content smile continued to stay on her face before she stared into the sky from a massive hole in the ceiling, staring into a part of the Aether streams that licked the portion of where realspace meet immaterial.

'The Warp is so beautiful out here.'

And so Neopolitan, Trivia Vanille, and Roman's right hand closed her eyes for the last time.

The others were silent, not even reacting as Yang wiped the blood off her metal hand with her jacket, before a noise drew their attention away. The Devourer bellowed in agony, its audience watching as its jaws clamped down on the nearest pile of junk, still consumed by the ravenous hunger. Pressing a hand to its chest, it could only limp away in agony, eating to fuel its metabolism so it could heal, lumbering into the horizon.

Elitras still had an unconscious Ruby in his arms, staring at the retreating beast before he looked down at the girl. She was unconscious, either from shock or something else, her expression was quiet and peaceful, like she was letting go of the weight of the world. Suddenly, the two were bearhugged by a tearing Yang, pressing her face into his chest, holding both him and Ruby close.

"Thank you..." Yang whispered into Elitras' coat as she hugged him so tightly it would have broken his ribs if he was a normal man, burying her face into his shirt while she sobbed, "ThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyou..." She blubbered into his chest, not knowing if she could live with herself if her little sister died.

The man that answered to the Emperor said nothing, merely stroking Yang's golden mane of hair with one hand as she sobbed. And but a moment later, he was hugged from behind by Blake, and then hugged from the side by Weiss. After a few moments, they broke the embrace, letting him free before Yang wiped her tears from her eyes, "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it." Elitras nodded before he turned to Damian and his Battle Brothers, "Astartes, we're done here. Gather the blond woman and let's get back to camp." The three nodded, Damian putting his helmet back on before he nodded for the two to follow him.

"Come with us, woman." One of the two motioned for Salem to follow, who did so with her head down and her face shadowed with shame. She never said a word as they exited the mansion that slowly dissolved into nothing. Elitras said nothing more as he carried the unconscious Ruby back to their camp, while the three girls glared at the body of Neopolitan.

"Good riddance." Weiss scowled when she then spat at Neo's face, the wad splattering on the corpse's cheek before she turned to leave. Blake and Yang only glared briefly before they joined the others...

But none of them saw Emiko instead give the girl a look of pity before she scooped Neo's body up with her prehensile hair and wrapped around it in a shroud of follicles, hiding it as she retreated back to the Haven.

---

Several Hours later...

The Haven

Sam washed Ruby's face with a wet cloth, the girl slightly shifting on the dirty couch as he wiped away all the dried blood and fluids from her cheek and forehead. The rest of Team RWBY looked at her with worried eyes, hoping that she was okay. Sam finished with his work, wiping the sweat off his brow before he turned to the team of Huntresses.

"Well, I'm not a doctor but other than a few bruises, she seems fine." Sam said, knowing that he was the closest thing they had to a medical professional even though he was an author, "I think her aura can handle the rest. Aside from that, are you four doing okay?"

The three nodded, they were fatigued but otherwise okay. Sam nodded back, standing up and bidding them well before he left them in Elitras' base in the Haven. Yang sighed, sitting on a crate while running her hand through her hair and let out a hollow laugh, "Helluva first impression huh? We meet Elitras, Neo gets us, and he nearly gives up his life to save Ruby."

"Tell me about it."

The girls jumped and saw Elitras leaning against the doorframe, the Spear of Telesto on his back, his arms crossed but he had a concerned look on his face. "How's Ruby?"

"She's fine." Yang said before she raised an eyebrow, "But I assume you heard that?"

"Maybe." Elitras shrugged, before he looked at her arm and bluntly asked, "You gonna tell me about the arm now?"

Yang gained a pensive expression before she sighed and explained, "Just when we escaped from Corax's labs, my prosthetic arm was damaged beyond repair. But on the way out, a guard managed to catch me by surprise and my arm was dipped into a vat of molten... stuff. I don't know what it was called but it stuck to my damaged arm, and it morphed it into... this." She pointed to her silvery arm that moved like it was flesh and bone, "It feels like I have my old arm back, but it also has the same functions as my robot arm."

"Really?" The crimson haired man rose an eyebrow, "Like it can turn into an arm cannon?"

Yang nodded and held out her silver arm horizontally. The section below the wrist liquescently morphed, bulging into a small port covered in webs of silver as a barrel seemed to grow out to her knuckles. Firey energy gathered around the barrel while the spaces between the strands of silver glowed emerald, before it fired a beam at a small rock sitting innocuously on a larger rock. The rock reduced to slurry, as was the rock it was sitting on, and so was the wall behind it.

Elitras whistled as Yang shifted her arm back to normal, "I think your arm is made of Necrodermis, aka a living metal."

"Living metal?" The three girls asked in unison, blinking in shock at the term with the blond brawler looking at her new limb in amazement.

"Well, it's a..."

Elitras was cut off when he heard the door to his base open and saw a Cadian guardsman coming into the room in a rather hurried fashion, "My lord, some of the people from Remnant are here."

The crimson haired acolyte of the Emperor nodded and made a motion, "Send them in."

The guardsman nodded and left, before he heard someone talking briefly until they were silenced by a shove. Suddenly, a teary Nora dashed in and tackled Blake and Yang in a bear hug, throwing them to the ground in surprise. "YOU'RE OKAY! You're okay..." Nora blubbered incoherently as she continued to crush the two in a bear hug, "I'm so happy..."

Behind her, Winter came running in, a face set in worry before it changed to utter relief as she tearfully hugged her little sister, who hugged her back, "Weiss..."

Ren came in just behind Winter, where his stoic expression melted somewhat when he saw that they were okay.

Despite her crushing strength, Blake and Yang smiled at Nora before they gently brushed her off while the sisters broke up the hug but were still smiling. Elitras smiled at their interactions before he noticed Ruby slowly begin to stir from her sleep. He gently brushed them out of the way before he was joined by Yang as he knelt down to the waking red reaper, worry overcoming her face as she became teary-eyed.

Ruby's silver eyes opened, taking in the sight of Elitras and Yang looking at her. She moaned, sitting up and putting a hand to her head, "Ugh, what happened-" The red reaper was cut off when Yang bearhugged her little sister, tears streaming down her face, while Ruby was shocked into silence.

"Ruby, please... don't do that again..." Yang sobbed as she hugged her little sister tighter, "After all that's happened... I can't lose you..."

Tears pricked from Ruby's eyes before she hugged her big sister back, regret flooding through her veins as she cried. The others looked at the two in sympathy, feeling as worn out as them at this point. With all that's happened, and with being in the Tower, they never really had a moment to process it all properly, and maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

"What happened?" Ruby choked out after she calmed herself down.

Yang let out a teary laugh before she wiped her face, "Elitras dove in after you fell. You both were caught in the jaw of that... fucking thing." She had to stop and let out a few more sobs, "I thought you two were dead... ha, but then he cut his way out of that thing with you in tow." Yang then paused when she realized something and turned to Elitras, "Hey, how are you healed after all of that? We saw your body get pierced all over."

"I... don't know." Elitras said after he averted his eyes for a split second. He didn't want to tell them how he's able to resupply when he's low on energy. Besides, the meat inside that Devourer's throat was so gamey.

Yang didn't seem convinced but rolled with it. Elitras then decided to change the subject with something that he just remembered, standing up, "Hey, by the way, what happened to that blond woman? Sara or-?"

"Salem." Weiss supplied, trying not to cringe at the name, as with the others from Remnant, "And she's fine. Emiko took her back to our side of the Haven, but she's practically catatonic. They're helping her adjust now." The former heiress tried to hide the bitter and uneasy tone of her voice, but from the look Elitras gave her showed that he was unconvinced but was relieved that he brushed it off.

Blake nodded before she sighed and let her body rest on the wall, looking utterly physically and mentally exhausted from all the things that they went through in the Tower, "It's a miracle that we found someone like her in this hellhole. A big... very big majority of the people we came across were either bandits, psychopaths, Chaos worshippers, or worse until we found this space where we could hide and try to survive. I just... I don't understand how nearly everyone here just runs around the Tower, killing each other rather than trying to do good by one another.

"It's because the world's not such a scary place when you're the biggest and worst monster in it." Elitras began with a solemn expression, supping a small sip from the Ol Janx bottle he still had with him, which was still long ways away from being empty, "Whether it's just this life or something after, no one wants to spend their existence with their neck under someone's boot. Like me, I'm ashamed to admit, but I'd rather do the stepping then being stepped on."

They all looked surprised by Elitras' insight before Blake asked, "And how'd you learn that?"

"As far as I remember after putting down uprising after uprising and invasion after invasion, I've seen a bunch of sick fucks." Elitras began again, listing off some experiences in his time with the Imperium's various enemies from within and without, "And I saw the various reasons why they did. Maybe it was a planetary governor that got too greedy or incompetent or kept pressing their thumb on the planet. Maybe it was greed, or power, or for some particularly sick fucks, it was just fun. But the worst ones I ever encountered... were the ones that didn't know what else to do with themselves. They figured that there was no other way than for them to survive or that they were afraid of what would happen if they stopped. They didn't do those things for power; they did those things because they didn't want to feel powerless anymore."

The others were silent at his words with Yang letting out an "Oof..." at hearing that.

"Yep. Even those in the cages rather died than be left powerless." Elitras nodded sadly, remembering that event from two months ago. The others nodded sadly as well before Ruby perked up when she realized something.

"Wait... Not all of them."

The crimson haired man turned to Ruby with a confused look.

"Those people that you freed, we managed to save a few." Ruby told him, "Sure, it was difficult to get them from there to the Haven, but they're save now!" She seemed to regain some of her old enthusiasm at that statement. "One of them even told us to take a chance on you after that whole thing earlier."

"Really?" He smiled, feeling some relief in that.

"Yep!" Nora chirped, before some of her enthusiasm went away, "But one of them didn't get away. A woman with black hair, had weird abilities. She was captured by some of those evil Space Marines."

"Yes." Winter spoke up for the first time here, looking saddened, "She fended them off with her powers that allowed us to escape. We don't know what happened to her..."

Elitras looked down, knowing that what he was going to have to rip this band aid off now, "I'd hate to say it but she's probably dead. I mean, I barely survived two months there, so I'm sorry to say but I doubt she made it."

The others nodded, feeling like that was her most likely fate, Ruby especially looking downtrodden... before she realized something, "Wait, do you know for sure that she's gone?"

"Yes." He replied bluntly, not wanting to say any more about that woman.

"How are you sure?" Blake asked, noticing what Ruby had caught onto.

"I just am, okay?" Elitras pressed, too exhausted to actually come up with a better response.

Yang also caught on, standing up and giving him a suspicious look, "Really? Because you seem to be dodging the question."

"Look just-"

The crimson haired man was cut off when Ruby zoomed to him, grabbing up by the collar with a desperate expression on her face, "Please, I have to know! We have to know!"

"Oh, fine!" Elitras finally acquiesced, pushing Ruby off of him while mentally preparing himself for how they were gonna react, "How do I know she's dead? Here it is!"

The people from Remnant all tensed at that, but prepared themselves while Yang groaned out, "And this is the part where I find out what it's like to get shot in the balls!"

"She… I saw a convoy that was carrying her and tracked it down." Elitras began, looking up at the ceiling, "Southeast, in the Corpse-Fields. The Iron Warriors... they were selling her. Saw it via my enhanced vision, whole place swarming with Raven Guard and all kinds of monsters and horror-things. Hundreds of them, bidding to do things to her that no man or monster has a right to."

Nora gasped in horror as she began to piece things together in her mind, "Oh Brothers! I'm don't know if I can do this."

Horrified, Weiss put a hand to her mouth, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"I just had my Lasgun." Elitras continued, taking a small drink again, "Just me against all of them… They had more guns and armor than I thought. Artillery emplacements and pillboxes separating me from the meeting place. The whole damn place was a mobile fortress. Attempting to attack would have been suicide. All I could do was just sight her down."

They looked at each other in alarm and tense anticipation before turning to him, with Blake, her eyes like pinpricks and her ears flat on her head, seemingly already knowing the answer but forcing herself to ask anyway, "And?"

Elitras looked to the side, not out of shame or guilt, but out of resigned numbness as he drank another small sip, feeling it burn down his throat before he answered her, "…So, I took the shot."

Shocked and horrified sounds came from them, disbelief practically spilling from them with Yang even exclaiming, "Whoa! Wait a minute here."

Outrage replacing shock, Winter reached for her rapier with a cold expression, "Be really careful what you say here."

Her little sister however let her emotions known right out of the gate, "What you did was inexcusable!"

The other girls, minus Ruby who was still shocked, voiced their outrage as well but before things could escalate, Nora put her hands up in a placating gesture to both Schnees and the other girls and Ren, "Hey, guys, come on! Let him finish before we jump to conclusions!"

A moment later after they all looked at each other before they sat back down, still glowering at him... when Weiss was suddenly was hit with a look of realization before she buried her head in her hands, "My word, when did Nora become the voice of reason?"

Nora only shrugged before she turned to a stoic Elitras, "So, I'm guessing waiting for the night and then saving her was out of the question, Elitras?"

"There was never any saving her." Elitras mumbled, taking another sip, gazing back at his reflection in the window. He looked tired. So, so tired. "They'd have taken her where I couldn't follow. They'd have ripped her apart or did things worse than that. What I did… That was the only rescue."

"Uh-uh." Blake disagreed with a glare, not convinced that with all his power he couldn't save a single woman, "I don't think so."

Yang nodded in agreement with her girlfriend, also glaring at him, "Yeah, that was her decision to make, not yours."

"There was no decision." Elitras retorted, not taking another drink as he instead corked the bottle, not having it in him to drink another sip, "I was meant to pull that trigger. It was a mistake to think I could escape it." He then raised an eyebrow at them all and gave a question of his own, "Speaking of which, what poor decisions led you all to end up in the Tower?"

The Remnantanians all flinched at that question, looking away as he could sense feelings of anger, guilt, betrayal, regret, and a variety of other emotions from all of them.

"You... you wouldn't understand." Ruby morosely replied, looking away from him.

"Well... I could try." Elitras suggested with a shrug.

The ones from Remnant looked at each other, still hesitant to tell him the full story about what happened to Remnant.

"Look, just tell me everything." Elitras demanded as he sat down on a crate, "Tell me what happened to Atlas and Mantle, and why you all are here in this hellhole."

Team RWBY and _N_R all looked at each other again, silently thinking it over before they turned to him, with Blake asking, "Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"Whichever you want." Elitras waved off, not caring about either version.

"All right." Blake began, sitting down on the couch along with her team while Winter and _N_R continued to stand, "Our world is called Remnant. That blond woman that Neo had bound with us? Her name is Salem, she's... Well, used to be, a sorceress who commanded dark creatures called the Grimm."

"Okay." Elitras responded, not at all sounding surprised at such a thing.

Blake blinked at how he casually accepted that but continued, "You see Salem was after four Relics, when all four relics are brought together, they would summon the creators of Remnant. If we were deemed unworthy, they would destroy us. Salem was going to do this in a desperate attempt to rid herself of her immortality."

"We got one Relic already and the next one was in Atlas, Weiss' home." Yang continued for her, "Winter was part of the military of Atlas but times were... tough on Atlas and its sister city Mantle. Her boss, General Ironwood, had been trying to create something called Project Amity, it was meant to reestablish global communication."

"Okay." Elitras said, resting his chin on his interconnected fingers, "Go on."

"Well, to summarize, we allied with a woman named Robyn Hill, who was in charge of a group called the Happy Huntresses, in the hopes of making peace with Atlas and Mantle as tensions were high due to Ironwood's actions." Weiss gave her part, "What we didn't realize was that Salem's agents were already in Solitas and one thing led to another and... Ironwood snapped."

Elitras raised an eyebrow, but Nora continued, having an uncharacteristically down expression on her face, "Salem preyed on Ironwood's paranoia and that caused him to declare martial law and try to raise Atlas into the sky. Our friend Oscar got kidnapped by one of Salem's minions, the Hound, and soon after, she made landfall on Atlas. After that, Ironwood got desperate and held Mantle hostage until we gave up the key to the next Relic."

"And what was the Relic?" The Imperial asked assuming a pondering position like that of Auguste Rodin's Thinker.

"It's called the Staff of Creation. I think it's powers are self-explanatory." Ruby took her turn in the story, "We managed to get... the key to the vault where it was being kept. After we took it, we learned that it was the only thing holding Atlas up. And so, we tried to use it to evacuate everyone."

"I see." Elitras replied, before he finally addressed the elephant in the room, "And how did that cause you all to end up in the Tower?"

They all flinched hard at that, recalling the horrible, horrible, memories when they first had arrived at the Tower, but Ruby inhaled, "One of Salem's agents, Cinder, attacked us along with Neo who you met. And... that's when things went bad."

"We were using the Staff of Creation to create pathways through space, trying to get the citizens of Atlas and Mantle out of the kingdom before it came crashing down." Weiss continued, before she grips the side of her sleeves, looking like she was trying to hold herself back from crying, "But... something happened. The paths we created, they... warped for lack of a better term, and they started spreading... eventually, Atlas and Mantle were pulled into the Warp."

Elitras blinked but nodded for one of them to continue, who happened to be Blake, "Ironwood was devoured by daemons, while several of Atlas and Mantle's civilians were killed or taken to the pits. We got separated from Qrow, Ironwood's elite team, the Ace-Ops, and a friend of ours... Penny." She said quietly as Ruby flinched at that, "And... well, you know the rest."

"Alright, I have a few questions." Elitras stated, shifting his posture so that his calf rested on his knee and that his chin rested on his knuckles, "What happened to the Staff and the other Relic?"

"The Lamp of Knowledge? It's a lamp that can summon a spirit that can answer any question." Weiss answered him. "As for the Staff... Cinder took it and the Lamp before everything went wrong."

"Okay. And the Lamp is how you figured out Salem is immortal?" He asked, and when he got nods from Team RWBY and _N_R, he asked another, "Did Ironwood know this?"

They flinched at that, looking away except Ruby. She was scared of how he was going to react, but she worked up the courage to answer, "No..." If Elitras was shocked, he didn't show it as he only crooked an eyebrow, much to her surprise.

"And you didn't share that with him, why?"

"I-I didn't want Ironwood to lose hope after everything he'd been trying to do. When we got to Atlas, seeing everything that he's been doing and how stressed and alone he is… After what happened with Professor Lionheart, I didn't want to let him know unless I knew he could handle it," Ruby slowly answered, causing him to stare at her silence simply. The others looked on nervously, wondering how this would turn out.

Elitras still didn't say anything but then turned to the others, making them slightly flinch. He accused, "And you all went along with this?"

The others awkwardly looked at each other, sporting different reactions, mostly shame, and regret. Winter gave a light scowl but that melted as she looked down.

"We all…decided to trust Ruby's judgment." Yang answered, defending her younger sister.

"I see… And was there anything else you kept from the General?" Elitras asked. It was another sincere yet heavy question that made Ruby have cold sweat. She wanted to lie like how she did to the General, but she could tell that whatever lie she would tell that the warrior would see right through it instantly. Nor could she lie to him after everything they have been through together, especially after he saved her life.

"I-I… told Ironwood that the Lamp… didn't have any questions anymore," Ruby answers as she looks down in shame, not willing to look at the Imperial.

Instead of being disappointed, he gained a confused expression before he asked, "The Lamp didn't have any more questions?"

"Oh, right! Forgot to say, the Lamp only has three questions every century." The crimson reaper sheepishly clarified to him, getting an "ah" of understanding from him.

"So, why didn't you tell him? As you all demonstrated, you hate secrets so why did you keep these two?"

"W-Well, I..." Ruby tried to stay but he cut her off with a hand in a comforting gesture.

"I'm not trying judge you, Ruby, I just want to know both sides of the argument, so please just answer honestly." Elitras clarified, his expression neutral and not betraying anything. The reaper sighed and worked up the courage again.

"...because I didn't trust him." Ruby replied, looking down in guilt, "With all that was going on and Ironwood's paranoia and methods, and how the citizens of Mantle were resenting him more and more... I just felt..." The reaper couldn't even finish, her silence joined with the others.

Elitras pursed his lips before he nodded, "Okay... but before I get to that, I think I know what happened with your paths." He began, getting their attention as they wondered what he meant, "When you used the Staff, I believe you accidently opened a Warp Rift. And because of the massive influx of daemons running around the Warp from the Maw, I think that's what caused it to grow out of control and swallow Atlas and Mantle."

Nora brightened at that, before she spoke in an excited voice, "So, if we open another Warp Rift, we might be able to go home?!"

"Well, honestly, I wouldn't hold my breath, Warp Rifts are notoriously unpredictable." Elitras replied with brutal honesty, causing them to slump at that, "As for what I think about what happened with Ironwood... I don't know. Honestly, from an outsider looking in and with all that you've said, that whole mess in my opinion was just a bunch of flawed people in an impossibly complicated situation. And as for what your decision not to tell him... in my opinion, I don't blame you."

At this, Ruby and her friends looked at him with surprise, making Elitras continue, "Look, in decisions that could affect nations, there is no right answer. Each decision has its own pros and cons. But if Ironwood was who you said he was, maybe not telling would have been a good call or maybe it would have been a better idea to tell him, given that he was a general and your ally at the time."

Ruby slumped with regret, "But then... Cinder ruined everything." The crimson haired man rose an eyebrow before his transhuman brain started piecing things together slowly... when the answer hit him like a freight train.

"Oh, the one question." Elitras breathed, putting a hand to his head when the realization hit him, "When Neo stole the Lamp, Cinder must have used the one question to find where the Staff was." She nodded, prompting him to continue, "And that's why you regret not telling Ironwood because he might have used the question better."

Ruby let out a scoff filled with bitterness and self-loathing, "Yeah... If I just told him the truth... if I had stopped Cinder, then none of this would have happened..." She could barely even speak as the weight of all her failures kept weighing her down, not noticing the looks of concern and sympathy from her friends and big sister.

"Did you know where she was?" The Imperial asked out of the blue.

The reaper blinked at that question, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you didn't know where Cinder was, how could you have stopped her?" Elitras asked her, leaning into her.

"Well, no." She stuttered out, thinking erratically but she tried to press, "But if I-"

"So, what could you have done?" Elitras repeated, pressuring Ruby more and more, "Tell me Ruby, how could you have anticipated Cinder using the Lamp if you didn't know where she was in the first place?"

Something inside Ruby suddenly snapped at that.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Ruby screamed out, surprising both her teammates and Elitras, "I just... I just needed to be better! THEY NEEDED ME TO BE BETTER! BUT I WASN'T! NOW, THEY'RE DEAD AND REMNANT MIGHT BE DOOMED! ALL BECAUSE I WASN'T..." All the rage simmered out, leaving only sorrow while a look of utter self-loathing replaced her expression of anger, tear flowing down her cheeks freely, "All because I wasn't good enough..."

Ruby finally broke down, unable to hold her emotions in anymore. She fell to her knees, putting her hands in her face, sobbing loudly. Yang, unable to watch anymore, sped towards her sister. Before either of them had a chance to react, she embraced her, whispering soothing words while she felt Ruby sob into her chest. Weiss and Blake weren't far behind, coming to their leader as she broke down, with Ren and Nora by their sides.

She didn't even flinch when she felt Elitras' gloved hand on her cheek, getting her to peek a silver eye out.

"Ruby... even when we do everything right, bad things still sometimes happen." Elitras spoke gently, almost like her mom whenever she would tell her and Yang a bedtime story, "There are some things we have the power to control, but the hardest thing to admit, especially for people in our line of work is that sometimes, we're..."

"Powerless." Ruby finished, tears running down her face before she blurted out, "But I don't want to be... I should have... I should have stopped her somehow!"

"How?"

"I don't know! I don't know..." Ruby sobbed, screwing her eyes shut, unable to even look at herself.

"Look, we can argue about whose fault it is or what decisions should have been made, but honestly, it doesn't matter now." Elitras continued, "You can vent all you're sorrow here, because... we in the Imperium bear our scars with a sense of pride, but there comes a time where we ourselves have to heal."

Suddenly, when Elitras' hand ran through her hair, it was as if all the pain and sorrow inside Ruby melted away, flowing off her like a malignancy that had been excised from her mind. Ruby gasped as she suddenly found herself feeling... calm, before Elitras tried to retract his hand, which now had an aura of crimson around it that writhed and roiled liquescently. The crimson haired imperial seemed as surprised as her while the Remnantanians looked at it with agape jaws, watching as it slithered between his fingers like a serpent.

"I..." Ruby blinked when she noticed that the proverbial weight on her shoulders seemed to have been lifted, making her feel better than she had been in quite a while, looking at Elitras and the aura covering his hand with wide eyes, "What did you do?"

"I..." Elitras blinked, looking at the aura around his hand with similarly widened eyes, "I don't know..." The aura slowly dissipated, leaving him as dumbstruck as them before he shook his head, "I need some air... I might as well give you guys some space."

"Wait! I forgot to tell you!"

But just as he stood up, the crimson haired Acolyte felt a pair of gentle arms wrap around his waist. Elitras looked down to see Ruby hugging him, her head pressed against his chest before she whispers, "Thank you... for everything. Thank you for saving my life and... thanks for trying to cheer me up..."

Elitras blinked before he patted her on the head, getting her to let go, "No problem, kid." He answered but just as he was about to walk out, a thought occurred to him, "Actually, I just have one last question to ask."

Ruby blinked but decided one more couldn't hurt, "Sure."

"If Salem truly couldn't be killed... then why didn't you use the Staff to imprison her?"

The girl's mind suddenly came to a screeching halt as she stared, "Use the what?"

"Yeah, if she couldn't be killed, maybe you could have used the Staff to create some kind of prison for her? Or incase her in some unbreakable crystal?" Elitras suggested, "Then you just put the Staff back in the Vault and boom, Salem is dealt with, and both Atlas and Mantle are safe."

All of the people of Remnant were silent, still trying to process that solution.

"Use the staff to..." Ruby trailed off as her brain stalled for a moment... before she hung her head, "I suddenly feel like the biggest idiot in the universe."

"Eh, don't worry, Rubes... so do we." Yang had her face in her palm, mentally berating herself for not thinking about that. All of the others were dumbstruck at the fact that they never thought about that, Blake and Weiss had their heads in their hands, Nora had her hands to her ears with a shocked look, and Winter and Ren pinched the bridges of their noses.

Elitras laughed before he left to give them their privacy.

---

Outside, Emiko let the last armful of dirt and shards of metal fall from a shovel construct of her hair, adding to the heap that was nearly as tall as her. She had dug a six-foot-deep pit, most of the chemically treated dirt and bits of metal on the side in a heap of equal size. With a forlorn expression, the onryo turned to the body of Neopolitian, which had become petrified in iridescent crystal in the time when she was traveling back to the Haven.

Coiling her hair tendrils around Neo's body, Emiko slowly lowered the body into the grave, watching as her raven locks contrasted the multiple colors of the crystal sheath that the small woman was covered in. As her body hit the bottom and her locks retracted, the yokai woman slowly filled the grave fistful by fistful, dirt and scrap falling into the pit that and burying its contents, before all of it reached the edges of the hole. She smoothed it out with her feet and hair tentacles, leaving it barely noticeable in the alley between the two buildings.

And finally, taking out Hush, Emiko planted the tip of the blade into the dirt, acting as a pseudo headstone.

The onryo didn't know why but when she saw the woman lying there in her own blood with no one coming for her or anyone to care for... something in her wouldn't let her leave the body be. Even after what had happened with Ruby, Emiko just couldn't stand something like that even if it was with someone who deserved it. Maybe she pictured Erma as this girl or maybe she saw Rin in her at times, but part of her just wanted her to find peace despite where they were.

"This is the way you died. Ripped open and watching your heart get crushed, alone and unloved." Emiko said as she looked at the grave with an odd sense of melancholy, especially with the umbrella blade as the headstone, "You've escaped one Hell, Neo. God help me but I somehow hope you didn't find another."

Patting the dirt, Emiko left the girl's grave behind, letting Trivia Vanille rest in peace.

She floated back to her side, feeling melancholy that her daughter may have shared the same fate with Neo... before she suddenly noticed something. It was a spiderweb, this one looking like it was made of diamond filaments and stretched on a pile of rubble. But what made her blink was that there was a message on it.

"ELITRAS FOLLOW THE WEBS"

"Follow the webs?"

She didn't repeat that. Emiko turned her head to see Elitras in front of her, either not noticing or not caring about her presence, reading the message on the building before they then saw a series of webs with arrows placed in certain positions that clearly indicated a path to some destination. Elitras raised an eyebrow, this clearly getting his attention and curiosity...

"Damian!" The Acolyte called out, with stomps immediately coming his way a moment later causing Emiko to zip behind a building just as said Blood Angel came to him like an obedient dog.

"Yes, my lord?" The captain answered.

"I'm going to investigate something, until I return, consider yourself in charge of the Imperial forces here." Elitras explained, not explaining anymore and not needing to as Damian gave a salute. With that, the Acolyte slowly followed the webs, which seemingly lead to a hole in some uninhabited part of the Haven, a place that they had started clearing due to the disproportionate amount of rubble and gutted structures.

Not caring that she was following him, Elitras stopped when the latest web led him to a massive pile of rubble where the webs pointed to. It was then that he noticed a small shape crawl into a crack in the piles, realizing where he must go next. His eyes glowed with collecting power before he unleashed a beam of red, reducing most of the rubble to molten slag.

But as the rivers of molten orange flowed out from the superheated pile of smelting stone, a hole, not made by his laser vision, revealed itself to him with a web that had an arrow pointing right.

Not hesitating, he entered the hidden tunnel, while Emiko put a hand to her mouth and sped back to the others.

---

30 minutes later...

The Death Factories

(Fallout 1 OST - City of the Dead)

Elitras' footfalls seemed almost like a tapping rhythm, wandering down the jagged and sterile tunnel that seemed to be a jagged and overlapping ground. A burning unfelt presence seemed to run through the follicles of his mane of crimson, blasphemous voices piping stridently in his ears like a rushing airy lullaby stabbing into his canals, and a mephitic air that was like burning flesh or excrement that had been heated to a smoldering soup. But he soon found himself seeing a white light at the end that resembled a jagged maw, bringing in a new energy to him as he jogged to the end like a jumpy child.

But there, as he rested a hand on the jagged stalactite while exiting the tunnel, Elitras was greeted by a sight that let out a sound of shock from even his horror numbed brain.

It was practically a city of interconnected factorums and towers, infrastructure and pipes occupying whatever space was available all under a blood red sky covered by oily black clouds, several burning and blasting hot vats of radioactive emerald fluids and boiling corpse oil with rivulets of runoff pooling in the ground below, unseen figures walking monotonously in the brief spaces of openness. But that was not what made him gasp.

For what drew the sound from his throat was the staggering profusion of frozen human shapes that were imbedded in the adamantium walls and pipes. Some were just heads stuck in a silent scream, others had arms reaching out with grasping hands, while the vast majority were full torsos or upper bodies, stretching their arms out to the skies in a desperate hopeless escape. But what truly earned the sting of horror from him was the roiling, crying, bleeding, unblinking bloodshot eyes that darted in their sockets, almost cutting themselves on the small rough spikes sitting near them. Soul stuff and ectoplasm coiling and brushing against them, having mouths... yet unable to scream.

Swallowing some spittle, Elitras turned his eyes and his mind away from them. There was nothing he could do... at least that's what he believes.

The white silicate web arrows soon led him through the haunted and screaming manufactorums, not seeing but somehow feeling the things that were being birthed inside them, to a spot on the roof where there was a spider web crack in the metal. Near the cracked section was a winch, likely for a part of the factorum that hadn't been completed but as he peaked over the edge after landing down, there was no other opening that he could get through without likely raising an alarm. And given that the webs were pointing here, it was likely that this was where he had to go next.

Thankfully, getting in was easy. Unstrapping the Spear of Telesto from his back, Elitras raised the weapon high and jabbed the blade into the spiderweb of cracks, before pressing on it with all his might. It was simple physics, find the weak point of an indestructible substance, apply enough pressure and then suddenly...

CRUUUCK

It's not so indestructible. The spear pierced through the roof, the shards falling into the darkness below. Holstering the Spear back over his shoulders, Elitras grabbed the winch cable before he descended down into the hole he just created.

His adamantium-like skin prevented the wire line from cutting his hand in half, letting him slowly his descent before he hit the floor. This place looked like it was barely finished construction, truck sized pipes composed the floors, the walls rusted and covered in gunk, crisscrossing tubes and cables either hanging from the ceiling or splayed across the ground, writhing and pulsing like tentacles. Moving past a rusted sewer pipe, Elitras soon saw an equally rusted door by a cloudy window where odd sounds like scraping, bubbling, and cooing.

Morbid curiosity overtaking him, the Acolyte pressed a steady hand to the heavy door and pressed, forcing the grime covered hinges to move. A squeal and creak soon echoed out, scraping the ground and revealing grey beneath while he slowly walked in. A moment later, he blinked at what awaited inside.

It was a rather sizable lab with the same rusted walls, possessing twin tables lined with surgery tools that had not been cleaned, three cages lined with razor wire and ceramite bars, Telsa coils and treys filled with bubbling concoctions. On an operating table, was what he thinks is a man, but was too bandaged and bloodied to confirm, whatever skin was revealed to be lined with Colchisian rune script or with passages from the Malus Codicium. Several nails with rune script were driven into the hands, restrained arms, and crippled legs, bloody eyes staring at him unblinkingly as slivers of Warp stuff slithered though the pupils, the mouth attempting to move underneath the bandages.

The cages rattled, getting him to look away. Inside one was a misshapen thing, covered in dark scales and curling in on itself, naked and postulating hymns of darkness with its hands together, growing louder as it thrashed against its confines. Another one looked more resembled a dog, stuck in a bestial crouch, its snout pulling back its lips into a snarl while many emerald eyes bore into him. And in the last one... was a woman, her skin plastic and pale akin to a mannequin, cracks on her joints and ligaments with one arm over her chest and another on her crotch, her face hidden in auburn hair before she turned her weary head to Elitras, revealing an eye of black.

Cracks split the sealed lips before a breathy and dry whisper issued from a meaty throat:

"help..."

Elitras gave a bewildered stare but, with an expression that morphed into regret, he slowly closed the door, leaving the beings inside to whatever fate was to await them... while desperately trying to ignore the mannequin's desperate screams for help. The webs didn't point to it, and he didn't have the means to get them out of this horrible factory. So, as much as he hated it, he didn't have time to waste on them.

The crimson Imperial took a moment to collect himself, shaking his head before he continued on. At the edges of the hall were two corpses mutilated beyond any and all recognition, their limbs bound by wires on metal poles with strips of rotting or hardened meat clinging to their bare bones, bent in ways made it clear that they died in agony. Red still clung to the bodies, but he noticed that there were names written on the hand of the left one and the ribs of the right one: Red Talon and Head Huntress.

Coming to a large, rusted hatch, he grabbed the hatch-ring and forced it to turn, making a grinding squeal before it loosened spinning freely as he then pushed. The door moved while emitting a similar grinding squeal, letting it come free and move out, taking him to another vast area before his eardrums were assaulted by the sounds of crackling electricity.

And then he saw it. In vast, incredibly vast, rows and rows were several human shaped things of titan size, strapped or bolted down to massive chairs, draped in leather garments with electrode lined helms blasting volts of electricity that would have powered cities. They spasmed and shuttered, seeming to break their bones from the force they were exerting, but all the damage seemed to heal as they didn't die.

Then, from under the chairs, he saw massive falls of reddish-brown gunk with chunks of viscera blasting out and into funnels that were piping the muck off to somewhere else. Elitras' expression tightened in disgust. He knew what that stuff was.

"Ugh... so that's where the smell is coming from."

He didn't even want to know where that stuff going.

Swallowing his disgust, the Acolyte steeled himself and tried to back think of his time with Inquisitor Eisenhorn. Those memories calmed him down and made him advance on the next arrow, walking past the crackling giants and the blasts of arcing warp lightning, before he came to the next part where the webs were pointing to; a large hole in the wall that was seemingly made by a burrowing beast.

Looking around to make sure he wasn't being followed, Elitras ducked into the whole and slowly made his way down the tunnel, which was thankfully much shorter than the one from before though much tighter and compact. After a few moments, he found himself coming out to a massive expanse hidden in the mountains with a small hole revealing the blood red sky.

Elitras gazed at the area with an awed expression that was mixed with bewilderment. It was coated in massive and thick milky white spider webs that glowed with an ethereal ghostly aura that dimly lit the cavern of adamantium, several things and creatures trapped in the white mass, seemingly dead or dying.

Of particular note was something that looked almost like a dragon, tubes driven under its scales into multicolored flesh with iridescent fluids being pumped off to some other part of the area. Suddenly, its pointed maw expelled out a flood of vile fluids that resembled molten goop before many flowers and odd multicolored flames bloomed. After that, a flare of white and soon the pool fragmented into a large flock of ravens that spread their tenebrous wings before proceeding to fly out and up into the ruddy sky above him, nearly picking him apart with ceramite beaks.

Elitras staggeringly backed away from the flock with ravens with a startled expression, raising his head to the hole in the ceiling sky while they disappeared into the beyond. Suddenly, he heard stomping or clanking, like rebar legs on metal ground, turning behind him and feeling his eyes widen.

(Fallout 1 OST - Flames of the Ancient World)

The thing's limbs were chopped off and in their place were cybernetics gruesomely bolted onto the stumps, bolters attached to the forearms with four-foot-long blades with power field generators under the chest, an extra pair of arms with long Lightning claw-like mechanical hands, the gun's belt fed to a backpack that was almost as large as the torso. The thing's head was covered by a spiked Waffen SS helmet and gasmask with a long thin drill coming from where the filter should have been, while the rest of it was covered in chemically treated combat fatigues or bolted on plates of armor. Labored breath pumped out from vents on the check, several tubes and wires running in and through its neck and body, either pulsing with chemicals or sparking with soul electricity.

Elitras slowly backed away with a shocked expression as it stumbled forwards while more things like it came through the veils of webs.

One had a mechanical arm terminating in a buzzsaw, an armored torso of heavy bolted on plates caked in dried blood, the upper half of the head was gone with a bunch of processers and optics shoved onto the stump with the jaw stappled to the neck, and heavy cyberlegs that seemed clunky and cumbersome. Another had a miniature bladed turbine for a head connected to a cumbersome powerpack that was nearly the size of a large dog, the heavystubbers replacing its arms, and exoskeletal implants grafted onto the legs.

Another few resembled SS troopers in greatcoats but with their faces were obscured by welded on ceramite, red optics with Doomsirens for the mouths, and their arms replaced by serrated-like blades or Lightning Claw-like prosthetics. And soon, they were joined by Cherub-like creatures that flew out and gently landed on the walls or lines of web, but these had metallic jaws and mechanical claws that arced with power fields, letting out mechanical screeches as their black feathered wings flapped briefly.

More golems, some wholly mechanical, bulky as Ogryn while either covered in greatcoats or bloodied aprons, or even bare. Some had helmeted and grilled heads of steel or mechanical hammerhead, while some even lacked heads entirely. Armed with either hooks, claws, hammers, saws, drills, blades, or even jet turbines, bolted on armor with dried blood, tattered and ragged clothes, mechanical groans echoing out from their vents.

And then came the worst of them all.

It was like an Astartes but more horrid than anything he'd seen, grey green battleplate with shrunken heads bound in wire on the pauldrons and flayed and sewn together skins acting as a waistcloth. Bulging red eyes stared from a face riven with stitch marks, scarified runes and wires, a grill half mask welded over the lower face, bolted on armour strained to contain the muscle-bulked physique. Pipes and tubes gurgled with weird fluids, flushing them through the monster's armour and body alike. Unbridled psychic potential crackled around the golem, though with his skull, Elitras' transhuman eyes seeing bits of brain matter fused with miniature cogitators in a broken part of the skull.

It twitches, jitters, pants, jerks, and swifts, as if it was in invisible chains that it desperately tried to shed or burst out of. Instead of attacking however, the creature raised a trembling hand, and then the other abominations stopped. Then it pointed a single finger to one of the Ogryn-like golems and motioned to him next.

The monster, this one looking as if it had an old projector for a head and bandages loosely hanging from its bloodied body and clawed arms, lumbered towards him like a stumbling drunk before it stopped just ten feet from him. Suddenly, a light shot from the projector, washing his face with white before a series of flashes and mechanical clanking, whirling, and clicking.

After a moment, the light ceased before it turned to its master, emitting a series of chirps to it. The Astartes-like monster gave a nod before it pointed to Elitras and made a motion for him to follow him, then turning away and it lumbered away to wherever it came.

Not knowing what else to do, the Acolyte followed.

(End)

---

The Central Command Center

Sartile stood at attention, not even reacting as the apothecary extracted a long and thick needle from his jugular, feeling the bleeding staunch automatically. The plague doctor masked Apothecary lifted the sample up, examining it before ejecting the container and then placing it to the awaiting trey held by a servitor. As the servitor skittered away on insectoid mechanical legs, he looked to the Sired with a nod.

"Thank you for your time, Sartile." The Apothecary answered, talking while data scrolled in his lenses, "Your gene samples are showing increasing signs of stability. Within a few weeks, we may be able to extract your Progenoid Glands."

Nodding, Sartile stoically replied, "Very well, if I may take my lead then." With the Apothecary's nod, he left the lab and let the mad one indulge in his experiments, not wishing to see him anymore. On reflex, he marched his way through the halls of the Center without emotion, torches alight with witchfire lining the walls, fellow Terata or fusions of power armor and geneseed, so drenched in Warp taint that they were unable to be anything more than things that slaughter or burn.

Walking past a corner, Sartile felt something inside his armor shifting, sliding up his chest attempting to crawl out of the seam near the neck. Acting swiftly, he balled his hand into a fist and slamming it into his armored thigh. Immediately, it flinched back into where it was, not attempting to move after that. The Sired grunted, before he saw that one of the Raven Guard had noticed that he hit his leg.

"Servos were locking up again." Sartile stated, kicking out his leg to fool them into thinking that he was testing it. The other marine's expression was hidden under the helm, but there was only a nod from the black clad soldier before he left.

The 10-foot tall Astartes exhaled steam through his nostrils and then turned the corner, coming to the next hall where his chambers were. There was a door about his size with a retinal scanner hanging from over the doorframe, a red light beaming down and peering into his lenses, before a chirp came out and it opened. Not making another sound, Sartile entered, and the door shut behind him.

Once he looked around, the Sired undid the seals on his helmet, steam hissing out and revealing his face to no one. Placing his helmet on the slab of adamantium that served as his bed, Sartile looked to his chest and whispered, "Alright, it's safe."

Just as he stated that, a tentacle of black slithered out from the thin seam in his armor, looking around the room for signs of anyone before a veritable mass of shadows wrenched themselves out of his armor, though it was strangely undamaged afterwards. The shadow soon coagulated, white lines bleeding in and forming onto a white shroud, arms forming into the sleeves and legs with socks and black shoes.

Erma shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling of being confined into that small of a space. Then she looked around the chamber she was in, surprised to see that there was practically nothing in it; only the grey walls with a daemonic looking shrine that possessed many black candles alit with emerald flames, and a massive slab of iron that seemed to act as a bed.

The young onryo turned to her rescuer, giving a thankful smile to him even hugging his leg in gratitude. He flinched lightly, not used to people being gentle to him, but he didn't react otherwise. The Sired kneeled down and brushed his clawed armored hands through her raven hair, almost feeling her smile. As he did so, the heretic astartes remembered something, digging into one of his pouches and touching something.

"Here. I thought you'd be hungry." Sartile said as he showed her a few cans of corpse starch and a few packs of Scrape. Erma blinked when she saw the green cans with the yellow name on the sides, before she took a sniff and gagged at the horrid smell of the stuff.

"I know, they're disgusting." Sartile says with an understanding tone, "But it's all I could steal without it rotting in my pouches."

Erma pouted but decided that it was better than nothing, taking the cans and packs before devouring them whole, apparently too hungry to open them up. Sartile blinked in surprise before the little girl gulped them down, letting out a little burp that she covered with her hand, causing him to chuckle and pat her lightly on the head. Just then, there was a beeping sound above them, causing the two to look up with surprise.

The Sired calmed down when he saw that the noise emitted from a beacon above his bed. "Don't worry, it's just a call. They make that noise when the Raven Guard are called to eat." He turned to the onryo and said, "I'll be back in an hour or two, I'll try to get you more food."

Erma gave a nod before he put a clawed finger up and pressed in his voice, "But stay here. Don't anywhere else. You know those villains in cartoons that are usually goofy or funny and their minions suck at their jobs?" At her nervous nod, he continued, "Well, these are not those guys. They will kill you; they will rip you apart, they take you to the Apothecaries and they will do unspeakable things to you. So, if you have to leave the room, phase through the walls or under the floors and stay there until whatever reason you had to leave is gone. Understand?"

Giving a look of understanding, Erma nodded, making him sigh in relief, "Good. But Erma, for the love of the Gods, if nothing bad happens, stay. Here. I mean it." He warned her tensely, grabbing his helmet before sliding it back onto his head, feeling it seal in place as he stood up, taking his Bolter with him as he left for the feast. A second later, he stopped just in front of the door before he turned to look at Erma one more time.

She smiled at him, waving to show that she'll be all right.

Sartile only gave a nod, hoping that she'll be right. But as they say: Hope is the first step to disappointment.

---

The Death Factories

Elitras blinked when the golem that was leading him stopped at an opening in the tunnels.

It was another mansion, but this one was different. It seemed... cleaner for lack of a better work, free from even a splatter of mud or dirt, and looking more like something out of Europe. It was as white as marble, with gardens of white roses tended to by serfs in regal and clean attire, their eyes looking deader than corpses as they worked mindlessly. The rest of the house seemed to be fused with the walls of the cave, sitting under an opening in the ceiling, letting pale baleful light pour through.

The golem only pointed to the door to the mansion before making a knocking motion and then raising three fingers. Elitras nodded before he walked up to the door, and, due to the memories of Neo, braced himself for whatever could be inside. Raising a hand, he knocked on the door three times, the sound felt deep and far away somehow.

Nothing happened at first, but then his ears picked up the sounds of footfalls.

Just a moment later, the door was answered by an old man with thin brown and greying hair, wearing a kippah and an aqua colored bead necklace, a red cloth jacket that reached his knees with black furred cuffs and lapels under a black outfit that resembled a priest's garbs. It was then that Elitras saw that the man had disproportionately long fingernails, almost like claws, same with his toenails. He took a single look at the Red Angel before he gave a kind expression and shook his hand, "Oh, hello! Welcome to the Schnee Manor!"

"Um... hi." Elitras gave an awkward expression and shook his hand back, a little surprised by the friendliness of the old man. "Can I come in?"

"Of course! Master's been expecting you." The old man cordially said, opening the door to invite him in.

Elitras blinked at the hospitality before he followed the man inside.

The door shut behind him as he took in the interior of the Schnee Manor, it was unusually clean with the walls being white and pure, nary a stain of dirt or speck of dust misplaced. The furniture was clean, the shelves and decorations were all in place and in order, no paintings were tilted or out of place. The floors were washed and well-scrubbed, there was no sign of damage, no broken windows, not even the hint of any kind of intrusion or even a smear of ash.

The warrior admits in his thoughts that he was suffering a little bit of whiplash from the sheer... mundanity of the Schnee Manor. No signs of corruption, no daemons slithering in the walls, no slime snaking down the paint, no voices in the dark laughing in his ears, no faces staring at him out of the corner of his eye, no presences scratching at the back of his head, not even the slightest hint of anything unnatural hiding invisibly. Just... nothing.

For all intents and purposes, the Schnee Manor was utterly normal, pure, clean, and well furnished. The manor was so pure in fact that... it felt soulless. With the other places in the Tower, there was a manic and surreal whimsy to them, but the manor felt... cold, lifeless, and even wrong in a way that he couldn't describe. Had he become so used to the unnatural that the natural seemed alien to him?

Eventually, the Priest and him passed a room that he noticed wasn't empty. A woman was laying on a couch, looking utterly despondent to the world around her, her eyes dull like iron.

The woman was fair-skinned with slate-blue eyes, reminding him of Weiss, her ivory hair undone and draped on her shoulders and chest. Her attire consists of a white cravat secured by a silver brooch set with a red stone, as well as a light purple jacket with light sleeves, a wide belt around her waist, a matching pencil skirt with black tights and slippers.

She just kept laying on her couch, holding a bottle of bourbon in her hanging hand, taking another drink. Elitras scrunched his face when a scent came to his nostrils, she utterly reeked of alcohol, piss, and vomit, even if there was no sign of it. He was just going to ignore it, but then he noticed that she had the same hair, eye, and skin color as Weiss and Winter.

"What's wrong with her?" Elitras pointed to the woman in white, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Oh, Willow." The Priest crooned in sympathy, looking at her in both empathy and disappointment, "Ever since she was violated by the slaves of Chaos, and separated from her daughters, assuming that they were both dead, she simply... shut down. If it wasn't for me and her son, she would have drunk herself to death."

The Red Angel blinked when his mind connected the invisible dots. That was Weiss and Winter's mother?

He wasn't given any more information as he was then motioned to another hall, away from the mother. The hall ended in an elevator, pinging before revealing with parting doors ivory walls painted in floral scroll patterns, polished wooden floor, and articulate stonework. The two men then looked at each other, one possessing a nervous expression, the other giving a kind look.

"Come, come. Master is waiting." The Priest said, motioning to the lift. Elitras exhaled through his nose, preparing himself for whatever things could await him in the master's lair. He followed the Priest to the elevator, keeping himself from shivering at a coldness that came slithering out of the sliding doors, as if a Warp rift was inside and waiting to spring on them.

Thankfully, the coldness was less in the elevator, but there was still something that was creeping down his spine like an invisible centipede. What was it that was making him nervous? It wasn't the mumbling prayers that the Priest was making, he knew the chanting of Dark Tongue, and this wasn't it. It was almost like High Gothic but more mixed with scriptures of the Bible, the Koran, and most prominently the Torah.

Soon, the elevator stopped, the doors slid open, revealing a corridor of gothic architecture, torches, and even the smell of old books. The Priest exited the lift first, still humming his prayers, before Elitras followed, leading him to an arch shaped door that came to a barless stairwell.

It almost reminded him of the Imperial Palace, though the area was much more in touch with a dungeon from old Europe, rockcrete composing the walls, floors, and the stairwell, but most of the items were covered in dust covered and old spiderwebs. Chemistry and alchemy glassware littered many more tables, bubbling with many horrible concoctions, jars and flasks filled with many colored potions, elixirs, and serums. Wooden shelves lined with tomes, grimoires, scrolls, parchments, and texts of eldritch or daemonic knowledge, containers holding crushed powders and crystals, even having vials of worm-like things trapped in formaldehyde.

One table had several severed heads with grey skin having several wires, electrodes, and cables driving into them, psychic energy crackling and arching, their eyes staring into Elitras' soul and following him down the stairs. Another table had jars filled with eyeballs of exotic design and make, flasks holding the roiling, raging essences of captured daemons, even containers holding pure raw Warp dust. And another had half-finished mechanical parts, glowing optics driven into unfinished Servo Skulls, or blueprints of exotic machinery, circuits of make and model that he didn't recognize, and disassembled Vortex Grenades that were hopefully inactive.

The only thing that seemed normal is a short man with tanned skin, balding brown hair and a thick mustache, a white dress shirt with a dark blue tie and a dark grey vest, and grey dress pants with a pair of black polished dress shoes. He was humming to himself while sweeping the mounds of dust on the floor and glassware, while dusting off the cobwebs with a feather duster, making a damn good effort to tidy up the lab for guests. It was then that the servant noticed that the two were coming down the stairs, giving a smile and waving.

"Hello, Klein!" The Priest waved back, snapping Elitras out of his trance before he then called out into the darkness, "Master!"

Suddenly, at the shout, there was a loud clanking, shrilling, and whirling as the Acolyte saw in the darkness several massive mechanical claws that placed themselves at certain angles before they lit up like stage lighting. Blue lights speared out of the palms of the mechanical limbs, colliding together at a single point before a series of pixels came congealing together. The bits formed at the center before forming the limbs, head, features, and colors of a humanoid image.

The projection showed a fair-skinned with white, slicked-back hair, a large, thick mustache and cold blue eyes. He was wearing a pure white double-breasted blazer with a red handkerchief in the breast pocket. Underneath, he wore a light-blue dress shirt, vest and a white clip-on tie, printed with an emblem that resembled a snowflake, and silver-colored ring on his right hand.

"Ah, Elitras, the Red Angel." The projection said, walking up the Acolyte with lights moving in the same direction.

Elitras raised a brow, "You know my name?"

"Of course, your name and face have been bouncing through the Tower for months now." The projection continued, stopping just at his feet, "My name is Jacques Schnee. I'd hold my hand out for you to shake, but as you can see, I can't."

"Right." The Red Angel nodded, "By the way, what's with the projection?"

"It's to soften the blow."

Elitras blinked at that and could only mutter, "What?"

The projection merely smiled before it vanished, the claws closing and then retreated to the ceiling. A series of lights then popped to life loudly, revealing the entirety of the lab to him. Including the real form of the voice behind the projection.

(Fallout 1 OST- Vats of Goo)

In front was nothing short of horrifying.

A mess of machine and flesh, human and metal, forced together in a disgusting being of logic. The right arm was a disturbing white with patches of machine dug deep in twitching sickly flesh connecting to blood filled tubes. The left arm was almost entirely mechanical, the limb having with many bolts and rivets caked in dried blood driven into the frame and the part where flesh met metal, where the forearm terminated and replaced by a proportionate and sleek prosthetic arm covered in dried fluids.

The head was just as sickly. A metal plated mask with microchips and speakers melded to the mouth and throat. Messy white hair with streaks of silver covered in sulking fluids, the left eye was replaced by a mechanical prosthetic, the remaining impossibly bloodshot eye a deep red pronounced and sickly striations of green.

A small use of his x-ray vision caused Elitras to see the ribcage and internal organs, pale and sickly as wires and tubes carrying weird liquids were driven into their arteries, torso and most of the chest covered in several metal plates welded a wound on the shoulder was sealed shut by a metal plate, the legs were missing as the rest of its body was seemingly rigged into the machinery. Several thin cables were driven into the back and spine, the heart still beating and the lungs still heaving as the sounds of a tortured wheezing breath came from the welded-on respirator, while small robotic spiders crawled around it, seemingly for repair or upkeep, weaving white-blue silicate strands that dug into the mechanics.

It was connected to several wires and tubes that ran from the ceiling to the thing's back, while the lower half of its body was replaced by a massive spider-like walker with thick jagged metallic legs with jutting wires and cables. Several jars lining the back filled with emerald liquid, concealed by metal coverings and connected to the base of the neck, a pump that inflated and deflated in tandem with its breath, and a small atomic battery that fueled the mech.

The only thing that covered it was a very long white sleeved mantle that was darkened and tattered with holes around the edges, exposing its chest, along with a white scarf wrapped around its neck like a noose. Finally, he saw that the thing towered over him, the mechanical arachnid legs making it so that it was twice his height, leaning down so that they were eye to eye. And it was then that Elitras noticed that it had a syringe filled with a blue serum while the other hand held three severed heads with the eyes and mouths glowing emerald.

Though this was nothing compared to what was around it.

There were several vats around it, where several mutilated remains were displayed, piles of cybernetics and machine parts, and torn open bodies that didn't seem to rot, attract flies, or even stink. Several monsters like the ones outside the manor were laying on surgery tables, unfinished or in the process of being finished by Surgeon Acolytes of Fabius Bile, likely loaned out as a sign of favor. Chemicals bubbling in heated beakers, whirling machines arcing with power, ectoplasm roiling in flasks, all swimming together in like some carnival of mad science.

And to Elitras' own horror, he found himself unfazed by the sight before him. Had he really been numbed by the Tower so deeply that he felt nothing from this?

The true form of the master also seemed perplexed by his lack of a reaction. "Usually, people would scream in terror when they see me."

"Well, I believe I've seen worse than you, I'm afraid." The Acolyte said in a neutral tone, not understanding where that feeling of nervousness came from.

Jacques merely shrugged in response before he straightened back up, "I suppose it can't be helped. I, myself, have grown numb to things that I wish I never knew."

He then turned to the latest project; an entirely mechanical one based on the Power Armor on the surgery table. Letting Elitras watch as he skittered to it on his metal arachnid legs, Jacques snapped his mechanical fingers at the Surgeons who then held the body's vacant headspace up for him to work. One of his front legs rose up before unfurling into a three-pronged claw that then held the syringe in his right hand, freeing said hand and allowing him to properly work.

Putting two of the heads on the pauldrons, the mad maker took the final one and exposed the open veins and throat, reaching into the mechanical body and jabbed in wires and tubes before then clamping it down on rotating neck mechanism. "The think bone's connected to the talk bone. The talk bone's connected to the mouth bone. ~" He sang to himself as he did the same thing with the second, and then third, before he then took the syringe back in his hand and then jabbing it in a port on the side, depressing the plunger. Swiftly retracting the needle, he skittered back along with his Surgeons, watching as psychic energy began to arc, weird fluids flowing into the severed heads, eyes beginning to roil and regain their shine, jaws moving and setting while crystal teeth ground together.

Elitras watched in morbid fascination as the mechanical creature slowly stood up, fingers curling into fists, groans and moans echoing from its three throats. Its armor, decorated with runescript, talismans, and fetishes, tenebrous tendrils of energy slithering in and out of each piece, the color of grey-green that seemed to move like liquid. Crushing waves of psychic howls rippled through the materium and immaterium, only audible to the attuned, three souls writhing and trying to puppet the flesh and cybernetics in the body they shared.

The heads swiveled on the rack, groaning and moaning while wrestling for control, legs stumbling as they tried to stand straight. It then let out a low growl before one of the Surgeon Acolytes raised a necklace with an Eight-Pointed Star pendant, causing it to screech and reel back. The bones and steel of the beast grinded against each other in a horrid moan, falling to its knees as its heads whirled around, trying to make some sense of its existence.

"Fascinating." Jacques put a finger and thumb to his chin in thought, before he then pressed a button on the wall, "Whitley! I have another Terata ready for Bile! Can you please come down and lead it outside?"

A sound of affirmation came on the Vox, before Elitras heard the sounds of another lift descended down into the depths of the labs. Another ping came as a pair of doors opened to reveal a teenaged boy who looked like a male version of Weiss, but in stained but formal clothes, holding a necklace akin to a rosary. He was chanting something that wasn't the Dark Tongue, incense smoke coming out of a bauble on the necklace, the scent slithering to its nostrils, eyes becoming dulled and passive with posture straightening.

"Lost, Klein, could you both help him?" Jacques inquired of the two men, "I need to chat with our guest."

The two of them nod and scampered to the young boy, beginning to chant that non-Dark Tongue that pacified the beast. With motions and guiding words, they lured the three headed golem into a tunnel that opened just as Jacques pressed another button. The three disappeared into the dark channel of stone, with the beast lumbering and following them into the blackness before Jacques turned to the surprised Elitras.

"You made those things?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Indeed, I did." The cyborg replies, hands behind his back, "You may find it grotesque, but when you work under such a beast as Corvus Corax, your morals tend to dissolve, as well as your sanity."

"I see. So, then what do you do here, Jacques?" Elitras asked, looking around and noticing one of the shelves possessed scores of books like Moby Dick, Macbeth, Othello, A Midsummer Night's Dream, No Longer Human, Nibelungenlied, and other novels that would be considered sophisticated and classy on Earth.

"I'm one of Corax's many overworked (and criminally underappreciated) apprentices. He unfortunately saw potential in me and rigged the brains of several of his Apothecaries to my brain." Jacques explained, showing the containers on the spider-like walker he was hooked into. Suddenly, the grimy metal outsides receded, revealing several Astartes brains floating in blue-green preservative fluids, hooked with many wires and cables that ran into the mech and likely into their master's skull.

"Yeesh." Elitras flinched at that, knowing what the Apothecaries of the Traitor Raven Guard were capable of, awkwardly inquiring, "Are you okay?"

"Well, I currently am knowledgeable on how to summon daemons, create abominations, and a number of other unspeakably horrible, but other than that, yes, I am fine." Jacques snidely retorted, eyes flat and deadpan.

The Acolyte frowned at the remark, "You don't have to be jerk about it."

"...Forgive me, it hasn't been a good day," Jacques apologized after shaking his head, moving to another table where Elitras followed, "Then again, I have no idea what even counts as a good day in the Tower of Nightmares." It was then that he noticed that there was a white thumb sized spider with dark blue ridges and eyes, holding up a small near prismatic mushroom to Jacques, who took it with his mechanical hand, "But as Nicholas always said, 'Always do something you love.' And I can't deny that I love doing this work. Thank you by the way."

He said that thanks to the spider, who gave a squeak and a wave with one of its legs. The maker than grabbed a marble mortar and dropped the mushroom inside, crushing it with a pestle, adding then a sprinkle of a hot pink powder, a drizzle of a foul-smelling liquid, and a few shavings of multicolored herbs, talking to Elitras while mixing them together, "As for why I love it, it is nothing as paltry as sadism or the need to discover. It is much more simple that one would think..."

And with that, the maker then snapped his fingers, releasing a bolt of Warp lightning from the tip that speared into the mortar that he was working with. The mixture inside burst into an emerald pillar of fire, causing Elitras to jump back with surprise while Jacques had a calm expression, his hands tented as the flames morphed into a series of screaming faces with red eyes and hundreds of fangs, crimson lightning flaring out and coiling like a storm. The tempest suddenly roiled and compressed into an iridescent ball of fire, which then Jacques reached inside with a sword hilt, before then retracting to reveal it had metamorphosized into an emerald blade crackling with power.

"Simply to see the wonders the immaterial has to offer."

Elitras blinked in surprise while Jacques merely held it up, giving it a few test swings that unleashed waves of emerald power that dissipated thanks to special runes on the rockcrete. Just then, the maker held the blade horizontally, before dozens of the white spiders skittered onto the guard of the blade, running down the length and producing a scabbard of white. With that, he handed the blade off to one of the Surgeon Acolytes, who sent it off to one of the chutes.

"Impressive. Very impressive." Elitras said, not knowing what else to say.

"Thank you. As for how I acquired these materials, there's an entire part of the Tower that has Warp-tainted flora." The mad maker explained, "Corax sends a large amount of his slaves to reap a massive harvest before he has his 'apprentices' shape them into special powders, oils, and serums for his experiments. One of those plants, known as the Sonnentreppe, can secrete a special virus which can produce a number of effects. Just splice a few strands of DNA and treat it with Warp energy, and you get a compound that can resuscitate tissue and fuse it with cybernetics." He then paused, "Of course, there's also the fact that they have to trade some souls for access to the section."

The Red Angel had a flat expression before he asked, "...Okay, but why though?"

Jacques merely pinched the bridge of his covered nose with his mechanical hand before he explained with a sigh, "I don't know, I've given up trying to make sense of the Tower. Its layout is so random and disjoined that it's more akin to a bunch of parallel dimensions crammed together in a single Ark of Omen, Chaos's version of Commorragh almost if you will. Some parts you can access without even a thought, while in other parts, you need a specific item, ritual, or spell to access. Some parts of the Tower can only be accessed by Corax and the Raven Guard."

"I see. So, you were guiding me through the parts of the Tower that were easiest to access." The Acolyte deduced.

"Yes," Jacques confirmed him, before his organic eye turned to his right arm, "By the way, my friends seem to like you."

Elitras blinked before he felt something crawling on his fingers. He froze before rigidly turning his gaze to his right arm, before he blinked again. On his right arm were dozens of spiders of varying sizes possessing the same porcelain blue-hued carapaces, sapphire eyes, and black tipped legs. Despite that however, they seemed... friendly to him, not biting and even having an odd puppy-like look in their eyes.

"Heh, they're kinda cute." The Acolyte laughed a little, some part of his mind going to go into a frenzy at the thought that he would find spiders cute.

"Yes, they were a breed of Araneoidea that survived here by consuming hoarfrost. Warp mutation soon affected their spawn, and they can now subsist on Warp crystals, or most Warp tainted substances. I call them Frost Spiders." Jacques explained, taking one of said Frost Spiders on his mechanical finger, "Some of them came out of my eye sockets."

That caused him to blink at the maker.

Suddenly, the corner of Jacques' eye bulged like a tumor, before thin arachnid legs unfurled, the body ripping out of the socket and using the cheek and forehead as leverage. It was not as if he did not react to it, judging by the grunts and the squirms in that moment, before the same happened in his mechanical eye, almost ripping into the cybernetics. The two new Frost Spiders skittered down his cheeks and neck before resting on his shoulder, almost like a pair of trained birds.

Elitras just blinked, somehow not disturbed, "Does that hurt?"

"Immeasurably." Jacques grumbled, wiping away the tears of blood coming out from his eyes.

With a blank expression, Elitras then dug into his coat and withdrew the bottle of Old Janx Spirit that he kept with him.

"I think you need this."

Jacques rose his remaining eyebrow as he took the bottle into his hands with his mechanical one slowly uncorking it. The mad doctor poured a shot glass for himself, giving Elitras back his bottle, before he drunk it, the liquid seeping into the slits of the mask, flowing into throat. Jacques let out a sigh of relief, feeling the pain recede and give him a moment of tranquility.

"Ah, thank you." Jacques said before he took a scalpel and a bonesaw into his organic and inorganic hands respectively, "As for why I brought you here, well, I think my associate can explain when he gets here."

Before he could ask further, Elitras heard the sounds of footsteps coming down the stairwell behind him. Wheeling around, he was about to get into a stance but then he saw that it was merely Whitley who was alone, looking utterly exhausted likely from days of work.

"Father... The golem is outside." The young man reported, "Lost and Klein went to mother to stop her from raiding the liquor cabinet again."

Jacques sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose again, "Oh, Willow." Suddenly, he blinked before he then shook it off, deciding that it was a matter for another time, skittering off to another part of the labs where Elitras heard the sounds of something coming from a lift or tram.

The Red Angel turned Whitley and asked, "What was that about?"

"Corax assigned him to uncover the mysteries of Chemical X." Whitley explained, watching as Jacques' Surgeon Acolytes wheeled in the body of a Space Marine on a metal gurney, "Any enhanced Astartes that died from transfusion with the chemical is sent to father so that he may find a solution."

The two were then silenced as their attention was snapped to the cyborg spider, who sequestered himself with a curtain before he began dissection. For the next thirty minutes, they listened to the work of the apprentice of the Ravenlord, blades cutting into the torso, saws digging into the boneplate and the harsh crack of the hands ripping it away, organs pulled out to be weighed and catalogued, blood or bone marrow samples taken for signs of impurities or genetic screenings, and finally, cutting open the brain. When he seemed finished, the maker seemed to growl in frustration before composing himself and turned to the curtain.

Whitely watched in morbid fascination while Elitras stared stoically, before Jacques came in, holding a jar that held a green brain in clear culture fluid and a vial filled with clotted blood.

He went to a chemistry set and poured the blood sample into a flask, putting down a stopper with a tube driven in. The blood dissolved into an odd blue foam that filled its container, flowing up the tube and into the rest of the glassware, Jacques staring as it was filtered, refined, distilled, and separated through the chemicals before finally, with the twist of a glass valve, it exited into another awaiting vial. Twisting the valve shut, Jacques put another stopper in the vial and lifted it up, stirring the black viscous fluid around with an invisible frown.

The maker then placed the vial in a machine that almost resembled a microwave and entered combination of commands. He retracted his hand, watching as green light ran up and down the length of the vial, cogitators and organic computers whirling, monitors scrolling with information. A few minutes later, the machine ceased scanning before a grimy monitor unfolded and showed the results in red.

CHEMICAL X

PURITY: 98%

POTENCY: 86%

NO IMPURITIES DETECTED.

Jacques let out a frustrated breath through his covered nose, venting through the slits of his mask. He grasped the vial and examined it again, "Same as all of the samples: no impurities. So, why does Corax keep bothering me with these tests?" He pinched the bridge of his nose again and then exhaled, composing himself as he then opened a refrigeration unit, revealing a rack filled with dozens of Chemical X samples, placing his current sample into a random available space before closing it.

Sighing again, the maker uncapped the container holding the brain of the mutated Astartes.

"You know, in a couple of these bodies, the whole brain is still intact." Jacques noted while tapping the organ with his scalpel, holding the green brain for his visitor to see, "It makes you wonder if those children were still in there, just trapped in the horror. Anyway, it makes excellent protein."

Suddenly, before either of them could inquire, Jacques' mask opened up, looking like a maw of fangs before it bit into the cranial matter, ripping it in half. The mechanical jaws crushed and pulped the brain, reducing it to slurry before he knocked his head back, letting it run down his throat and into whatever he had left of his stomach. His white tongue covered in a phlegm-like sludge licked the bits off his metal teeth, sticking them and then disappearing in his throat.

Jacques soon noticed Elitras was staring at the brain matter, almost like how a tiger would look at the carcass of an elk.

The urge came again, seeing the blood seeping from the green grey matter like a fine wine. And then, with but the blink of an eye, his hand grabbed the other half of the brain and swiftly began chowing it down, feeling the cranial matter fall apart in his mouth. Feeling the slurry of grey matter run down his throat, Elitras was left smacking and licking his lips, lapping the blood off of his fingers. It was then that he came to his senses and saw Jacques looking at him with a raised eyebrow and Whitley who looked like he was about to puke.

"Oh..." Elitras pretended to gag, trying to deny that the Red Thirst had made the taste of the cranial matter delectable, "T-That's disgusting..." Jacques made a noise that made it clear that he didn't believe him but waved it off. Whitley merely gave a disgusted expression but similarly unconvinced.

The Red Angel coughed into his fist, desperately trying to change the subject, "So, Whitley, are you one of Jacques' assistants?"

"Yes, it's my duty." Whitley said, happy to change the subject but making it clear that he was resigned to this, "As for why I still stick around here and not upstairs drinking away like mother..." He glanced at Jacques who stoically stared back at him, "I suppose it's better to have someone than no one."

His father merely exhaled heavily and looked away but didn't say anything.

Whitley looked back at Elitras, "Well, given that you've been through a lot, do you want any food or-"

"Wait!" Jacques put a finger up as he began sniffing the air, causing the two to stop, "There's someone approaching the mansion." He sniffs again, his organic eye scanning the ceiling, "It's a group; two men, snniiiff, seven women." He then takes a deep sniff, to the point of scrunching his face, "And one's at the door."

Just then, there was a knock coming from one of the vox receivers on the walls, which was labeled "Door."

Elitras gave a shocked expression to the maker, "How the hell does that work?"

Jacques deadpanned, "You tell me."

"...Touche."

---

Klein straightened his bowtie and jogged to answer the front door, while the priest laid a crying Willow back down on the couch. It was the third time this week she had tried to raid the liquor cabinet, only for the both of them to stop her before she drank herself to death. And each time, they would drag her, kicking and screaming back to the living room, where she would end up sobbing.

"Please, Mrs. Schnee, this isn't a good way to live." The priest told her, sitting beside the grieving woman.

"What life?" Willow croaked, eyes red from crying, her hair disheveled, "My home is gone. My daughters are gone. My son hates me. My husband... My life is nothing but a cruel joke..." She started laughing and crying, burying herself in the priest's chest who merely ran his crow-like hands through her ivory hair, barely getting out the next muffled words, "I never got to tell them... how much I loved them..."

Her laugh devolved into sobbing as the priest held her close like a father comforting a daughter that just woke from a nightmare. Suddenly, there was a sound, a gasp, and the sounds of people embracing each other. The old man smiled before he whispered, "Maybe you will get to tell them."

The Schnee matriarch scoffed into his chest, "And how will-?"

"Mother?"

Willow froze, feeling like every single cell in her body stilled at the sound. Rigidly, she peaked out from the priest's chest, her eyes wide and her pupils like pinpricks... before it seemed like her heart stopped beating.

Standing in the middle of the doorframe... was Weiss and Winter. Clothing stained in soot, dust, dirt, and blood, scraps and small slashes, and a look of exhaustion, but it was still them. They stared at her, having the same shocked expressions as their mother's, Winter almost falling to her knees in a maelstrom of emotions while Weiss seemed frozen in both fear and sweet relief.

"W-Weiss? Winter?" Willow croaked, life returning to her eyes that then began to water again, hoping beyond hope that the two in front of her were not hallucinations.

Weiss put her hands to her mouth, tears pricking up, "Yes, mother, it's-" She did not get a chance to finish as her mother shot from the couch and tackled the two sisters to the ground in a hug, sobbing loudly. The Schnee sisters embraced their mother, tears coming down their faces, wanting to hold each other there and to never let go.

The priest got up from the couch, walking past the Schnees and came to the front door, where he saw who was standing there by Klein. Ruby, Blake, Yang, Ren, Nora, Sam, and Emiko, all looking a bit awkwardly at him. The last one coughed into her fist before she sheepishly asked both Klein and the priest, "Um, hi, may we come in?"

Both of the two men look at each other but they looked at the group kindly before Klein spoke and motioned for them to come in, "Of course."

The group smiled as they were let inside in the Schnee Manor, happy that there was another safe haven inside the Tower. However, suddenly, the priest felt something pricking at the back of his head. A feeling that was familiar and tense, a feeling that he couldn't shake even if he tried, a feeling that he realized was coming swifter than it had any right to.

"Inside, quick, quick!" The priest insisted with a frantic gesture for rest of them to get inside, which they immediately heeded before he closed the door after looking for anyone or anything that might be wandering outside. He looked out the windows for anything else before closing the blinds, feeling their gazes on him, "Sorry about that, but we're having guests over and I can almost feel them coming. By the way, I suggest you don't get too close to the windows."

The group look at each other, wondering what he meant by that.

"Eh-hem." The sounds of someone clearing their throat echoed through the hall, revealing to them Elitras who was leaning on the wall with his arms crossed and having a knowing smirk on his face.

"Uh, hi, Elitras..." Ruby awkwardly waved, before scratching the back of his head, "Emiko told us about the webs... and... We kinda..." She trailed off, taping the tips of her fingers together while the others except Sam and Nora seems to be nervous from all the awkwardness.

"Hey, it brought a family back together." Elitras put his hands up before he motioned to the Schnees, who stopped crying but were still embracing each other, "Far be it from me to judge the results."

Ruby let out an awkward giggle at that, which got a chuckle out of him, lightening the mood even more. Weiss giggled too, before a thought occurred to her that she both felt troubled by yet could not resist asking. Sighing, the former heiress stood up from where her mother and elder sister were and turned to Elitras with a look of utter sincerity.

"Can I ask something from you, Elitras?" At his nod, she exhaled through her nose and said under her breath, "Oh, I cannot believe I'm saying this..." Weiss then inhaled and asked, "Is my father here?"

The other two Schnees blinked at that question before they looked at each other, they hadn't thought about Jacques for quite a while, with Willow having not seen him since he was arrested by Ironwood. Elitras seemed both surprised and a bit nervous at her question.

"Well, yeah, he's here and he's safe, but..." The Red Angel tried to put it into words but failed and decided to say it bluntly, "Well... he's kinda changed."

The Schnees blinked at that, looking at each other in confusion before Willow asked, "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering them, Elitras turned his head to the next hall, speaking to whomever was there.

"You can come out now."

Silence was left in the house, before the group heard the sounds of mechanical whirling and servos whining. The group minus Elitras backed away when the sound grew louder and louder, before metallic spidery legs unfurling from behind the corner, a robotic hand placed on the wall, before Jacques fully revealed himself. His respirator breathing heavy, the tubes heaving and bubbling with weird fluids, his arms crossed, and his expression pitiless.

"Psshhh-koh... Children..." His organic and inorganic eyes turned to his daughters and then his wife, no emotion in his voice but had a genial tone, "Willow. Psshhh-koh..."

Weiss had her hands clamped on her mouth in horror as did Winter while Willow's jaw was agape in shock. Sure, there was a lot of love lost with Jacques, but this... this was too much. The others in the groups were filled with just as much horror as the Schnees, with even Emiko and Sam being a bit shocked and disturbed by the sight of the mutilated CEO.

Klein however just gave a tired sigh and asked his master, "Master Schnee, must you scare them like this?"

"Hmph, am I not allowed to have some fun?" Jacques' eyes made it seem like he was smirking under his mask.

Before they all could react, the priest suddenly screeched in horror, "THEY'RE HERE!" Alarmed, Jacques and Klein dashed to the drapes, pushing the priest aside as they stared out the window. Almost immediately, the two's blood ran cold in their veins when they saw who was coming to their house, the others practically feeling their dread as it began to build.

Without looking, Jacques pointed behind him and yelled, "Klein, hide them! NOW!"

"All of you in the closet, now!" Klein yelled while breaking out in a sprint. The group following him around the corner to a closet that big enough to hold them, the butler practically ripping the door open to get them in. Ruby and Nora jumped in first, before then Weiss and Blake, then Sam and Winter. Just as the front door began to creak open, Elitras then grabbed Emiko and Yang by the hair before he swan-dived with the two into the closet, Klein slamming the door shut just in time while Willow slumped on the couch, pretending to be passed out.

With that, the three calmed themselves and straightened, waiting for their guests.

The first through was Asmodeus, who looked the exact same as when Jacques saw him last, only his hair had been changed to fully hot pink. He held the door open for someone like a gentleman, smiling at who came in next.

She was known as Cinder. Her short hair now colored raspberry or magenta with a black metal hair piece that resembling a crescent with five slashes driven through it, her skin pale with dark markings under the bangs covering her left eye while her right eye held a black sclera with a magenta iris, black lips that revealed sharp red fangs and red clawed fingernails. She was dressed in a red Victorian style dress with a frilled collar, cuffs, and cravat, a blue feather accessory over her shoulder, high red and black leather heels, several rings on her fingers, likely digital weapons, and earrings and a necklace that resembled the Star of Chaos.

Behind her, there were two others. They were both covered in formfitting battleplate to where it almost seemed like a second skin, one emerald and feminine, the other black and masculine. Both covered in golden floral scroll patterns and colchisian rune script, one having a blank mask with deer-like antlers and showing mint colored hair, the other having a helmet that resembled a wolf's snout with protuberances resembled wolf ears on the head. The green one held a Force Staff while the black one had a pair of Lightning Claws, where Jacques then saw a pair of pistols with kama-like bayonets in holsters on the former's thighs and a pair of belt-fed bolters on the latter's back.

And behind him, was the main guest of the meeting. An apprentice of the Ravenlord like Jacques, only known as the Alchemist.

The Alchemist appeared as a truly towering being, entirely clad in black. Its face was hidden by a black leather plague doctor's mask with shining lenses with thin crisscrossed bars, a wide brimmed hat that had many bone fetishes, talismans, or trinkets hanging from the edges on old brown and grey strings and clad in a black cloak with several billowing strips of ebony cloth, chains wrapped around the waist and chest or dangling from the neck or shoulders, and many tomes of forgotten lore bound in thick cords hanging from an unseen belt. It seemed to almost... float rather than walk, before it revealed bird-like hands of black with boney talon-like fingers as it ducked under the door so it could enter.

"Surgeon of the Mad." It began in what sounded many human and animal screams shaped into a voice that was melodic and dark.

While the priest and Klein got on their hands and knees, Jacques bowed his head with his arms spread out as if in reverence to a holy figure, "Alchemist." He then raised his head and beckoned them further, "Come to the parlor. I believe we have much to discuss."

With that, Jacques skittered off to the mansion's parlor while the Alchemist floated behind him. Cinder gave a serene smile, one both alluring and menacing, before she followed them, motioning for her two bodyguards to follow her. The two armored figures obeyed like trained hounds, neither saying a word before they disappeared into the halls.

Unknown to them, there was a blur of red that came from the closet, nary a sound escaping.

Once the guests reached the parlor, Jacques asked as he showed them to a refectory table, white as marble with several white wooden chairs that had blue silk cushions, "Do you wish for any food or drinks. My servitors can provide whatever you wish."

"I am fine." The Alchemist politely declined with a motion of its bony hands as it sat down gracefully.

"I just want a burger and some fries. Maybe some chocolates if you have any." Asmodeus requested as he uncouthly plopped down on his chair, "And maybe a glass Bailey's Irish Cream."

"I'd like some venison and some Pino noir." Cinder serenely asked, before she turned to her guards, "Emerald, Mercury, do you two want anything?"

Their masks unfolded, retracting back into the chest pieces of their armor. The feminine one had darkened skin and red eyes, having mint colored hair that had grown to her shoulders, two scars running from the corners of her eyes to the corners of her lips. The masculine one had ill healed Glasgow scars on his cheeks, shaggy grey hair, dull grey eyes, and a scar running across his nose.

They looked at each other before Emerald replied, "I'll have a grilled cheese sandwich and some potato chips."

"I'll just have some streak." Mercury replied, looking like he couldn't care less about what he was going to eat.

"Very well," Jacques said, standing across from the Alchemist before he nodded to Klein who ran off to the kitchen.

In the closet, Blake, who had one of her cat ears pressed on the door, blinked in surprise, "Mercury? Emerald? They're still alive?"

"How is that-" Before Yang could continue, Emiko slammed her hand on her mouth before she shushed her as quietly as she could. Blake nodded in thanks before she pressed her ear back to the door, listening in on the meeting.

Back outside, after the servitors had delivered the requested food from the kitchens, the Alchemist began as the others ate, "So, Jacques, how has your experiments with Chemical X."

"They have been frustrating." Jacques drawled, "Every attempt at separating Chemical X from the cells of each subject has the same results. No impurities, no signs of corruption, nothing. I can't find anything wrong with the infusions."

"I see." The Alchemist replied, knitting his fingers together before leaning in, "Do you have any theories?"

"Well, one of them is that Chemical X reacts violently with Warp Energy." Jacques began, "Another is that maybe it's due to certain genes, another is that our subjects can't handle how powerful the treated Gene Seed is. I could go on and on, but there's really no one answer I can give."

"Really, and I thought you could decipher it?" Cinder asked mockingly as she cut a piece of her Venison and ate it.

"Well, I can't." Jacques said with a glare at her, "I tried over and over, but I can't figure it out. Tell Corax that I'm incompetent or whatever it is that you have, I can't figure out what's wrong with his Chemical X."

"Yeesh, what is it with Chemical X that's got Corax so worked up anyway?" Asmodeus asked, stuffing some fries in his mouth along with the chocolates he requested.

"In a sense, it's a super reactive agent that allows for near limitless energy production and growth." Jacques summarized, "And its potential is something unlike any I've ever seen. Any Astartes that survive the infusion are some of the most powerful I've ever seen."

"Indeed." Cinder confirmed, brushing her magenta bangs before she supped her wine, "I must admit, the chemical is a power tool. Hmph, I'd be willing to give up an arm or a leg for a sample of that agent."

"Yes, but... I must say, who knows how it'll react to beings such as you." Jacques reminded, "And again, while I understand Corax's obsession with it, I have done all I can. You want to see it for yourself? You are welcome to."

Cinder merely smirked sinisterly before she took another bite from her Venison, while Asmodeus said nothing, practically inhaling his burger and licking his fingers with his serrated green tongue. Emerald said nothing, just eating her sandwich in silence while Mercury scowled at his boss but said nothing either. The Alchemist however gave a nod before straightening his posture, "Very well, I will stay to confirm your research, Jacques."

The Surgeon nodded, knowing that he could not countermand him.

Back in the closet, the Remnantanians looked at each other with confusion, with Nora whispering, "Chemical X?"

"Sounds dangerous." Ruby whispered, pressing herself to the door so that she could hear what they were saying.

Back outside, after the three had finished their meals, Asmodeus chugged down his tulip glass of Baily's Irish Cream down before he sets it on a tray that Klein held out, "I hope for your sake, Jacques, that we don't have to come back just to fuck you up. Otherwise, say goodbye to your right hand."

Jacques merely looked at his right hand with a peculiar expression before he gave nod.

"It's so like you, you know." Cinder smugly stated to him, getting a raised eyebrow from him, "Everything comes down to want. I want to be strong. I want to be feared. I want to be powerful. And now? I'm strong, I'm feared, and I'm more powerful than I could ever imagine. And you? You just want to survive. No money at all, just living like this even under Corax's heel." She practically gained a grin,

Blinking, the former CEO tried to think of something. "Well, first, I-"

"Liar!"

Taken aback by the interruption, he replied, "I've done good things."

"No, you haven't!"

"In my heart, I've always tried to do good things."

"No, you didn't!"

Jacques tried hard not to get irritated but judging by the deep breath he took, he was failing. "Look, in my own way, I've tried to lead a good life."

"When?" Cinder smirked as she cocked her head slightly.

Jacques sputtered for a moment, but then something came to him. "Look, okay, fine, I admit, before Atlas and Mantle were dragged into the Tower, I wasn't a good person. Hell, even after getting stuck out here, I was… I was…"

Cinder smirked. "A sad, greedy piece of shit of a man?"

Jacques glared at her but didn't disagree. "In any case, I've been trying to be a better person. I learned that I can't spend the rest of my days trying to be what my family thinks of me to be. I need to be better. Fine, yes, I haven't done that good of a job, but I want to be better." He hung his head briefly. "I know I've had a late start, but… doesn't the fact that I want to try count for something?"

The Alchemist put a clawed hand to its chin in thought while Klein and the priest blinked in surprise. Asmodeus looked surprised at that speech from the Surgeon but said nothing in return. Emerald and Mercury just gave a down expression and a scowl respectively, but they stayed quiet as well. In the closet, Weiss and Winter were frozen at their father's words, looking at each other in disbelief.

Cinder however huffed at that, turning a heel and motioning for her minions to follow her out of the door, "Come, we're leaving."

"Yes, ma'am." Emerald answered obediently, though there was a sliver of melancholy.

"...Whatever." Mercury didn't even bother to hide the snide in his voice.

Their masks slid over their faces again, covering their expressions as they exited the front doors of the manor, just after Cinder gave a smile and a wave at Asmodeus who gave his own back at her. However, just as she was out of sight, the smile fell off his face and replaced by a look of disappointment almost.

"Tsk, waste of a good ass." Asmodeus said as he crossed his arms, watching Cinder's behind as she walked out of the manor with her bodyguards, "Waste of a good body in general actually."

"Oh, I thought you liked women like her?" Jacques snidely replied.

"All those men and women out here." Asmodeus reminisced with a forlorn expression, resting his back on one of the walls, "All this strength. All this power, and all your respect... you can't take it with you when you die. It won't save you. It doesn't matter how powerful you are. No ideas matter, no experience matters. None of that shit that's consumed you your whole life matters. You're completely naked in the face of death. It's terrifying." He turned to Jacques and raised a finger, "Now, a good hug or good fuck, that matters. Honestly, it ain't gonna change much... dead is dead. But the way I see it, you can die afraid. Lost in your own mind. Haunted by the guilt of all your mistakes. Tormenting nightmares wondering what comes next. Or...you can be in the moment with someone you love. Someone that makes you feel like nothing else matters. Nothing could be more important than feeling each other's warmth and love. No thinking. Just feeling."

Jacques looked surprised at that anecdote from Asmodeus, as did everyone who heard that. The mad scientist nodded before he looked to the couch in the other room, to the woman in white, pointing to her.

"Say, is that your wife?"

"Yes, that's Willow."

Asmodeus, still looking at the pretend unconscious Willow, then turned to Jacques while gaining a lecherous smile, "Hey."

Jacques looked at him, confused, "What?"

"Want to take advantage of her?"

Willow felt all the blood in her veins turn to ice at his words, struggling with all her might to stay still. In the closet, Emiko had to bind both Weiss and Winter with her hair to stop them from rushing out to protect their mother, less they reveal themselves. All seven of Klein's personalities reeled with shock, while the priest did not seem fazed. Even Jacques was utterly flabbergasted by Asmodeus' request, struggling to even speak for a few moments, "W-wha- NO!"

Asmodeus pouts like a child denied a toy before he walked off, "You guys are no fun." He then spat in his hand before holding it out for Jacques to take, "But since you said no, I won't touch her. not again, anyway." He said that last part under his breath.

The Surgeon scowled but took Asmodeus' hand and shook it... before noticing steam coming out and a sizzling sound began to form. Pulling his hand away, Jacques saw that his organic hand was suddenly covered in severe chemical burns, steaming with flecks of green trimming exposed tendons. The Lord of Flesh let out a laugh at his prank before he mock-saluted, "See ya around, Jacques."

"How juvenile." Jacques sneered, opening and closing his burnt hand as Asmodeus exited his manor.

"I will see you in your laboratory, Schnee." The Alchemist stated, his voice wispy and like the sound of wind chimes, "Tell Elitras that I'm expecting him." And with that, he floated to the elevator, practically disappearing into the shadows as he went.

Just as the Alchemist disappeared, Elitras dropped down from the chandelier he was hanging on, landing softly next to Jacques and looking surprised. "He knew I was here?"

"Indeed, he did. You can never hide anything from him," The former CEO said calmly, still testing his burnt hand. "Not even the most wanted man in the Tower."

"Jacques! Your hand!" Willow hurried up to him when the coast was clear, seeing his burnt hand after she got up from the couch. Unlike from times before, he didn't resist her touch, letting her see the full details of his skinless palm. She put a hand to her mouth; despite everything, not even she wished for him to be in this kind of suffering.

"I appreciate it, Willow, but I'm fine." He calmly said as she looked over his chemically burnt hand, still testing his fingers, "My pain receptors are shot anyway."

"Jacques-" She tried to say, but he put a hand up.

"It's okay." He gently said, putting his metal hand on her shoulder for reassurance, "I'll just get a graft for it. I'll be fine." Jacques then turned to Elitras, who watched without a word, "You can go to the lab. He's waiting for you. Don't worry, he's not like the rest of the Apprentices of the Raven."

Elitras nodded stoically, knowing that this was not going to go well before he inhaled and walked off to the labs.

"And... Willow," The Surgeon turned to his wife, looking tired. So, so tired. "For whatever its worth... I'm sorry... for everything." With that, he skittered off, not seeing Willow gain a soft expression on her face as he turned the corner.

Now alone, the others emerged from the closet, looking tremulous at what had just occurred. Weiss and Winter went up to their mother, concerned for how she might be affected while the rest looked at the elevator that closed and begun to descend down the shaft, worry on their features as they wondered what could be happening next.

"Sam." Emiko whispered to her husband, getting him to see her head down with her hair shadowing her eyes, "What Asmodeus said about being with someone you love..."

The author interrupted her by bringing her into a hug, "I know, Emmi. We're going to get Erma back. No matter what it takes."

Tearing up, she bearhugged her husband, not crying but doing what Asmodeus suggested; just living in the moment with someone she loved.

---

Jacques' Lab

Elitras exhaled, preparing himself as the elevator doors parted, revealing the now familiar rockcrete halls. Allowing Jacques to go in front of him, the Red Angel followed behind, coming down the stairwell where they saw the Alchemist working, mixing concoctions and scanning a grimoire with his eyes, the strips of cloth billowing out like serpents under a spell.

"You expected me?" The Acolyte said, feeling weary in the presences of this apprentice of Corax. The Alchemist merely stirred a vial of Chemical X in his hand, pouring it into a vat of red that then writhed and congealed, sprouting some odd thing as he reached in and pulled. It was a bright blood red blade with a Celtic cross shaped guard, a brown leather grip, a small white spike on the pommel with a small red cross. The weapon was as light as a feather when he allowed the Acolyte to take it into his hands, seeing coils of tenebrous energy that spiked and slithering up the blade as he examined it.

"Indeed, I did." His willowy voice came out from nowhere, Elitras felt something brushing at his mind when the words reared his ears. However, just as the tendrils of invisible evil tried to slither their way into his soul, he felt something devour them one by one, almost like a beast in his being. If the Alchemist knew what had just happened, he said nothing, merely floating past him and to a terminal on the other side of the labs.

"I asked for you because I knew you would be my greatest chance at my goal." The Alchemist began, inputing commands into the system, "As I recalled, you possessed the Blood of Sanguinus. I do not know how, but you do. It's practically a symbiote in your veins, giving you abilities that you never possessed before. I believe you are the key in my goal... of usurping Corax."

Elitras' eyes went wide when he heard that. Usurp the Ravenlord? A monster that could manhandle him and entire worlds with but a thought? That was such an absurd idea that his mind had to double take.

"That... That's... That's not possible." The Red Angel said, almost drunk with shock at hearing that declaration. "Usurp Corax? How would take even happen? You know that none of the Raven Guard or... whatever his apprentices are called would stand for it! They would kill you for betraying their gene father!"

"You underestimate my chances. I can understand that." The Apprentice of the Raven calmly stated, stopping typing before he turned to the Acolyte, eyes hidden behind his barred lenses, "I know of how to dispose of him. As for what you would get out of this... I know how the zealous rage of the Imperium can be tempted, shaped, and directed. I know how to get you to help me."

"Oh?" Elitras gave a sarcastic laugh at that, "And what could possibly-"

"There is a Shard of the Emperor in the Tower."

All of his thoughts died in that moment, red eyes wide with further shock as his mouth worked to form words that were stuck in his throat. When finally able to speak clearly, all he could make was an ineloquent "What?"

"In the most treacherous part of the Tower, inside a cage built to hold the mightiest of daemons, there lies a shard of the Emperor's Soul, asleep and alone." The Alchemist continued, "This Shard was so dangerous, so feral, so monstrously powerful that the Undivided decided to throw it in their darkest cage and leave it to rot for eternity. And I know that anything involving your Emperor will instantly gain your attention."

Elitras still stared at him, his mind scrambling to try and piece fact from fiction before he narrowed, "And how can I trust that this isn't a trap or a trick?"

Instead of denying his suspicions, the plague doctor-like being reached into his cloak, grabbing something before pulling his hand out. In front of Elitras' surprised eyes... was the Aquila pendant he lost over a year ago, "I believe this is yours?"

The Red Angel took the pendant, staring at it with shock before he muttered, "Yes... Yes, this is." Shaking himself out of his shock, he then looked up at the Alchemist with a glare, "But I still don't trust you, even if you may be telling the truth."

"Very well. I will take whatever opportunity comes." The apprentice of Corax replied calmly, before he turned back to the terminal and pulled a switch.

Suddenly, the walls near the terminal break to creak to life, dust and scum falling away as the sound of rusted gears turning filled the air. They soon parted, lights blaring to life, revealing a vast area filled with odd Astartes like figures, not clad in power armor but in military-like fatigues, helmets, gasmasks, and trenchcoats under flak jackets, standing in perfect unison like statues rather than soldiers. They had backpacks, oxygen tanks, bolter clips, melta bombs, frak and krak grenades, electrobinoculars, and even a radiation detector. It was then that Elitras noticed that the cloth of their fatigues seemed to be a mesh made from plasteel and ceramite by using his enhanced vision, wondering what kind of tailor could make such a thing.

But all of that paled in comparison to what was in front of them.

It was a stone platform with a set of stairs on the side with a bronze rimmed hole that led to a large pool of some dark blue liquid. Above the pool sat what appeared to be a diving bell hanging from a crane with miles worth of cable stacks connected to the base, rusted frames and beams, a flickering orange light that was loudly popping with electricity, all while servitors and servo skulls were working diligently on the wiring for the contraption. Numerous other Servo Skulls flew around the area like a swarm, fixing machines, delivering crates of organic and mechanical parts, or other duties that he didn't catch.

"This crack in the Tower is only way down through the Tower without running into the various monster, madmen, or the Raven Guard." The Alchemist explained as he pointed to the hole that led to the pool, "I built this machine to travel through the sludge and into the crack. It'll take you to as many layers below this one as it can, but after that, you will have to traverse the layers on your own, but I can still help you."

Turning behind him, he nodded to Jacques as if in confirmation of something. In response, Jacques then snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, from the darkness, came a trio of old crones, their skin green as moss with their faces void of eyes or noses while their fanged mouths slick with emerald drool, haggard brown and greying hair barely hidden under ragged hoods, asymmetrical bodies hidden under brown and black rags. They were bound in grimy and rusted chains, their wart covered hands ending in claws of ruby red, while one held a single snake-like eye that seemed to dart on its own without any input from the holder. Just then, one of them pulled a wrapped map from their robes and presented it to their master who opened it and looked it over with a Servo Skull providing a magnifying glass. Seemingly meeting his standards, Jacques wrapped it back up and held it out to Elitras, who took it with a curious expression.

"This map should be able to guide you through the Tower, the sword is for an extra weapon, but know this." The Alchemist held up a finger to him before he could say anything, "Danger lurks around every corner in the Tower of Nightmares. Friends are finite and enemies are infinite, more so with each descending level. And when you reach the Heart of the Tower, it will truly be hell. The best advice I can give you is be prepared."

Elitras merely gave a nod before he replied, "I can deal with that. My only concern is getting out when I reach the Heart."

"Here." Jacques said, coming up to him with a small and odd Wraithbone device that resembled the remote key of a car with an activation rune that glowed a sickly green, "This is Aeldari device will bring you back to my lab. Activate it when you've released the Emperor's Shard or if you're in a situation that you cannot find yourself surviving. If the latter case occurs, we will simply attempt a better plan."

"Alright." Elitras nods, sheathing the blade and stuffing the map and device in one of his deep pockets, "Is there anything else that I need to know, or do you have any other tools?"

"Not really, like the Alchemist said, the best I can give you is be prepared." The Surgeon emphasized by pointing a finger into his chest, before then calmly tenting his fingers, "Other than that, good luck. Because you will very much need it."

"Okay, then..." The Red Angel took a very deep breath, calming his fraying nerves from whatever was to come in the Tower before he turned to the Alchemist, "I'm ready."

The Alchemist gave a nod, just as the servitors were setting up the last component to the pod and plugging in the last of the connections. The inside of the diving bell immediately lit up, one of the Servo Skulls floating to a nearby set of levers, extending two mechanical hands that grasped them, ready for its master's command. A feeling soon came to Elitras like a dread unlike any, but he forced it down and steeled his heart.

He was a Hand of the Emperor, a Sword of Fire, and the Wing That Slays. If he failed in his Emperor, he would not be able to live with himself, nor would he be able to return to the other Acolytes nor the Imperium at all. Should he die freeing this Shard of the Emperor... then so be it.

---

A heavy door opened and red lights blared as the Priest came to a room filled to the brim with monitoring equipment, scanners, screens, gauges, speakers, wiring, and other parts. Closing the door and bathing in crimson, green, and blue lights from the equipment, the old man pulled up an office chair before sitting down, fiddling with all the buttons, knobs and switches in front of him. Monitors came to life, showing various parts of the Tower, deathly factories, burning hellscapes, fields filled with rampaging mutants, monsters, or madmen, daemons tormenting the innocent, suffering unfolding in its grandest display.

Either ignoring it or numb to it, the Priest instead focused his attention on a radar screen. It showed a pinging, blipping, and beeping, other machines whirling or clicking, before he saw on one small screen, shown in green "CONNECTION ESTABLISHED." Once he was sure that everything was ready, he pulled up a microphone to his lips and pressed the call button.

"Master!" The Priest called to Jacques over the lab's PA system, "Operation Nevermore is ready to launch!"

---

"Very good, Lost!" Jacques called out to his assistant, before he turned to the red-haired Imperial, "Well, Elitras? It's now or never."

Elitras nodded, steeling himself for whatever was to come. He was an Acolyte of the Emperor, and it was his duty to his master. That was his vow, unto the End of Eternity itself. Entering the diving bell and placing his two weapons to the side, two servitors began to reach inside with their mechadendrites, sitting him down on a leather seat and securing him with a harness and metal restraint. After they finished and checked their calibrations one final time, they retracted, letting their master peak in for one last piece of information.

"One last thing!" The Alchemist said, "That Wraithbone can bring you back here, but we can use it to calibrate the diving bell so that it will take you back to the layer from whence you came!"

"Got it!" Elitras responded, giving a thumbs up for confirmation.

"Good. And good luck, and may your Emperor be with you." The Alchemist finished before he ducked out of the bell, with the servitors closing it and dogging it behind him.

Just after the door closed and sealed, the Red Angel exhaled, before he reached into his pocket and extracting the Aquila pendant, still dangling on the golden necklace. Feeling an odd comfort from it, Elitras dipped his head and slowly pull it over, letting it on his neck before he raised his head, seeing the twin headed eagle resting on his chest. Now more at ease, he rested his back on his seat and waited for the launch.

"No turning back."

Suddenly, he heard a crashing sound of a door before various... familiar voices ringing through the air. Yelling followed before he saw flashes of blue and the sounds of fists banging against some invisible wall rang out like gunshots.

"ELITRAS!" He heard Ruby's voice echo out, followed by more fists banging on whatever was in front of her.

"LAUNCH NOW!" Jacques yelled out; his voice amplified by the speakers on his mask.

In one of the portholes, Elitras saw the Servo Skull yank one lever back and push another one forward. Just then, he felt the bell loosen before gravity did the rest and it fell along with him. He grabbed some handles nearby as he felt himself falling at high speeds before it abruptly ceased when he hit what he knew was whatever this crack was. There was a violent jerk, but the diving bell stayed upright and sunk below the viscous liquid, seeing it envelope the portholes.

Now, he knew that he was well past the point of no return. Despite that, he found himself smiling, outright grinning, and staring on at whatever was to come.

"Here we go."

---

And that's a wrap!

Finally! After almost a year of writing, delays, rewriting, cutting in half, scrapping scenes, rereading for errors, part 1 of my Magnus Opus is here!

And yes, everything, all this drama, action, horror, and suspense... is just part 1. Let that sink in.

Much of this chapter's setting was inspired by Mad God, by far my favorite horror movie to come out in 2022. It blew me away with the designs, the world, the setting, the shots, just- *Chef's kiss* Amazing! I highly recommend you check it out. And as you guessed, some parts were also part of RWBY Volume 9, which I added after some thought. In actuality, I started this in 2022 but then I got sidelined by Chapter 18 and then Beneath the Broken Moon.

Also, to those that thought there was gonna be some terrible fate for Erma in store... Come on, I may be a guy who REALLY loves body horror, but I didn't have the heart to do that to Erma.

Lastly, I just want to stress, RB!Corax and the traitor Raven Guard and Sanguinus and the traitor Blood Angels belong to the original author Zachriel. Not me. I was just using them because I like them after I got permission from Zachriel.

RIP Paul Reubens, Mark Margolis, Bob Barker, Arleen Sorkin, Jimmy Buffett, Steve Harwell, Mattew Parry, Steve Harwell, Joss Ackland, Andre Brauer, Glynis Johns, Adan Canto, Joyce Randolph, David Soul, and Frank Farian.

And finally, Bryan Charles Ansell, one of the men responsible for miniature figures and the Warhammer brand.

All these legends gone, but never forgotten.