I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.

I LIVE! Return of Faith is back, and I am super sorry about the wait. This was tough chapter to write because I actually wasn't sure on what order to write it on, plus I was busy looking for jobs and reacclimating myself with being home. I will say that you should probably expect me to take forever with these chapters, but inspiration comes and goes and usually its inconsistent.

Nevertheless, I am really happy with this chapter. Granted its mostly filler and exposition on this version of Remnant, but I hope you all enjoy it, nonetheless. Big shout out to Pinkpower3612, my betareader who has been a huge help with this.

Onto the chapter!

Return of Faith

Chapter Six: Observation & Alteration

Screams, growls, klaxon wails, gunshots, and roars filled Vale's commercial distract in the wake of the Creatures of Grimm sudden and unexpected appearance within the city. The people, gripped by that most primal of emotions, ran for their lives as Grimm poured out from the underground tram station they had entered through. The daemons picked them off one by one, running them down and butchering them with their fangs and claws before moving on to the next soul unfortunate enough to draw their attention.

Thankfully however, it appeared that the horde's rampage would be a short one. The Atlas fleet anchored above the city was converging on the emergence point, and over a dozen Huntsmen and Huntresses were already on site, dealing with the Grimm. Granted, most of them were children, students from Beacon Academy, but they held their own against the Grimm with admirable tenacity.

"Not too shabby," Yole muttered to himself as he watched one of the students, a bronze armored red-haired girl sporting a ponytail, fire her rifle three times at trio of charging Grimm, felling each of them effortlessly before spinning around, her rifle transforming into a spear as she moved, and thrusting it through the open maw of another daemon as it tried to get at her from behind.

"Not too shabby at all."

The infiltrator observed the battle from the second floor of a half-ruined café building, recording the whole thing with his Scroll. He had been close by when it happened, enough that he heard the explosion that opened up the way for the attack. He ran through the alleyways to see what had happened and had been about halfway there when the roaring and screaming started. Seconds later, a group of panicked civilians came rushing toward him. Yole narrowly avoided being trampled by the terrified press of bodies by climbing up a nearby fire escape. From his new vantage point, he watched as they pushed and shoved their way through the cramped confines of the alley, desperate to escape whatever was chasing them.

After a moment, Yole heard it, and a moment later, he saw it.

It was a grotesque, unnatural thing, covered in coarse black fur and hard chitin plates. Its arms were long, almost simian in their proportions to the rest of its body, and its sharp claws were stained with gore. Blood dripped from is lupine shaped snout as it loped after the fleeing civilians, all too eager to sink its fangs into their flesh and rip them to pieces.

Yole ensured the monster never got the chance.

Whipping out one of his autopistols, the infiltrator unloaded into the approaching Grimm. The small ballistic weapon unleashed a hail of bullets from its noise suppressed muzzle that took the black daemon off-guard. It stumbled under the barrage, losing its footing and crashing to the ground in a heap.

Yole fired several more rounds into it before releasing his grip on the trigger, finally noticing the wisps of umbral smoke rising from its body. Wide-eyed, he had watched as the monster evaporated into nothingness, the black smoke blown away by a non-existent wind.

For second, Yole stood there, gaping at the place where he had killed the Grimm. There was nothing left, not a single trace of its body remained. There were only the bullets he had shot it with, those tiny bits of metal that had killed it. They were now strewn across the rockcrete floor the alleyway, the only indication that something had happened here.

And so, Yole became the first Imperial in thousands of years to kill a Creature of Grimm, not that the infiltrator cared.

Once he overcame his small moment of surprise, the infiltrator continued his trek across the rooftops of the city before reaching the source of the mayhem. Grimm were all over the square, pouring out from massive hole that looked to have been opened by an underground tram unit smashing its way through, if the wrecked tramcar was anything to go by. A deliberate attack then, intended to confuse and terrorize the denizens of the city in the time leading up to their planet's greatest festival. A good stratagem. He had put in motion similar attacks before on several worlds, distracting the populaces with violence and chaos while he and his sister dealt with… disruptive individuals of considerable social status.

Was the same happening here? Was this attack meant to direct attention away from somewhere else so someone important could be quietly disposed of? Perhaps, but something felt off.

Before he could contemplate further, a screech from above made Yole turn as a large avian-like Grimm swooped down at him. He threw himself to the ground a fraction of second before its talons could close on him, then rolled out of the way and onto his knees, autopistol raised. It wasn't there anymore; it had flown off in search of easier prey.

Knowing better than to remain out in the open, Yole searched for cover. Eyes scanning the parapet, he caught sight of a shed-like structure on the eastern corner and ran over to it. He tried first to see if it was unlocked, when he found that it wasn't the infiltrator brought up his weapon and blasted the handle off its wooden frame before kicking it open. Inside there were stairs going down into the building's interior.

As he ran down the stairs, something shook the building hard. Yole staggered and leaned against the wall to keep his balance. Once down, he had gone over to the side of the building that faced the square and found half of it had been destroyed by whatever had just hit the structure. There was still enough remaining for him to accomplish his goal, however. So, as battle raged on in the square below, Yole hunkered down behind a shattered window frame, pulled out his Scroll device, and started recording.

He had been provided a unique opportunity, one that would greatly benefit their mission here on Remnant. Huntsmen were the warrior elite of Remnant, the lauded defenders of peace and justice who spent years honing their skills in one of the four great academies. They were trained in countless fighting styles as well as the use of Aura and Semblance, granting them incredible power to wield against those that would harm the innocent. They were the unrivaled heroes of Remnant's Time of Peace, the undisputed champions of civilization.

But how much of that was really true, that was what Yole intended to find out.

Through reputation alone, the Huntsmen of Remnant demanded observation and study. Their combat prowess and position in local society marked them out as a threat in the initial and later phases of the invasion. Documentation of their capabilities was required, and while there were many vids of Huntsmen in combat available through the open data-vault known as 'the Internet', most if not all consisted of mock battles and tournament duals. Such sources were unreliable as they halted the moment one of the combatants' Auras dropped too low, leaving the loser defeated but relatively unharmed. There were restrictions in such matches, rules to prevent undue injury and control the flow of the fight.

Such was not the case here. No mercy was shown to the Creatures of Grimm by the Huntsmen. Murderous intent was met with lethal force as more Huntsmen arrived to push back the daemons' incursion, providing Yole with a tremendous amount of valuable information.

Already, Yole was able to determine that speed and maneuverability were key in the Huntsmen way of combat. They danced around their daemonic opponents with an almost preternatural grace, dodging or deflecting incoming attacks with blinding speed before retaliating. They used their strange weapons to great effect, killing Grimm after Grimm with an almost laughable degree of ease. What had taken Yole unloading half a magazine to bring down, they took out with one or two hits of their weapons.

No wonder the people of this backwater idolize them as heroes.

He made sure to record the Atlas forces as well, given their status as the only kingdom with a standing army. They provided air support for the fight, blasting airborne Grimm out of the sky before deploying their mechanical soldiers to support the Huntsmen. Yole zoomed in on one of the constructs as it advanced toward the Grimm, noting its lack of visible human components.

With what seemed like every combat force converging on the square, it was not long before the breach was finally sealed up. With the main issue dealt with, the majority of Atlas robots spread out deeper into the city, intent on hunting down whatever stragglers remained. In contrast, the Huntsmen's response was far less professional. They relaxed, putting away their weapons and engaging in congratulatory conversation with one another, but Yole wasn't paying attention to them anymore.

His focus was on the tramcar now, and the four robots approaching it with their weapons raised. Making sure the Scroll was still recording, he watched as the machines dragged someone out of the wreckage. It was a man dressed in a white coat and black bowler hat.

Yole raised an eyebrow at the man, recognizing him as Roman Torchwick, a notorious thief and the most wanted man in Vale. Yole had performed extensive research on Torchwick, recognizing him as likely problem in the future. The man had become infamous in the last seven months, plundering the city of Vale of its Dust supply and making the local enforcers look even more incompetent than they already were. He had even been bold enough to hit a shipment of Dust just as it was being unloaded, if the news was to be believed. He was a clever man, ruthless and charismatic. Which begged the question…

What was his part in all this?

Attacks like this were not the sort of thing a thief would do, unless it was meant to serve as a distraction. However, the fact Torchwick was here and not somewhere else showed this was not part of an elaborate heist, but something else. Perhaps it was linked to his new friends in the White Fang, but that served only to raise more questions, like why a human thief would work with abhuman insurgents and what this attack was meant to achieve.

The more he thought about it the more Yole realized he needed to look into it. If this was just some small step in a grand conspiracy against Vale, then he needed to figure out what it was and neutralize it before it could jeopardize the mission.

As the Atlas robots led Torchwich toward a waiting gunship sitting idle in the square, Yole left his vantage point. Moving swiftly but silently, the infiltrator slipped out of the ruined building and into the adjacent alleyway, the same one where he killed the Grimm creature. He took a moment to alter his appearance to fool anyone who saw him into thinking he was just another frightened civilian who had been hiding from the Grimm.

His disguise worked. As he staggered out of the alley, panting like a dog, not a single soul looked his way. They were too busy looking for friends, calling out to missing loved ones, helping the injured, or praying to the gods they were allowed to believe in. Yole melded into the crowd of confused civilians with ease, carefully making his way back to the motel he was staying in for the duration of his mission.

Once there, he'd begin an in-depth analysis of the combat footage he recorded, providing Kress with vital intelligence regarding Huntsmen combat styles. After that, he'd look into this attack, find out what it was meant to achieve, who put it all in motion, whether it would impact their own plans and how.

As he boded and weaved through the mass of confused and frightened people, Yole smiled.

Things were finally getting interesting on this rock.

~o0o~

James could still feel Ozpin's gaze on him. Even with the video link dead, and half a mile separating them, the Atlesian general knew the Beacon headmaster was staring at him from atop his tower, judging him for the responsibility he now wielded in the upcoming festival.

But what did he expect to happen after today?

"You brought this on yourself." He muttered before turning away from the armor-glass window. He had taken the call in his private cabin, away from his crew. He trusted each and every man aboard the Dauntless with his life and they would follow his orders to the letter, but it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to Ozpin.

Especially considering recent… events.

This is on you, Ozpin, James thought bitterly. If you had just listened to me, we could have prevented all of this from happening. He clenched his fists in frustration, then released them with an exhalation of breath.

The chime of his Scroll provided the general with a distraction from his thoughts. Walking over, he pressed the answer button on his desk causing a two-dimensional holoscreen to flash into existence. On the screen was the officer he had placed in charge of interrogating their prisoner who saluted the general immediately.

"At ease," James told him. "Have you made any progress with the prisoner?"

"No, sir." The man answered with a neutral expression shaped by years of discipline and training. "The prisoner has refused to cooperate with us so far."

James, nodded, expecting as much. They had only just captured the man; it would take more than an hour of questioning to get the man to talk. Still, the idea of a common thief like Roman Torchwick refusing to answer to the strongest military power on the planet bit at his pride. Perhaps if he were to visit the man himself, he might change his tune a bit.

"Very well, return him to his cell. I'll be down in a moment."

The officer saluted again, "Yes, sir," before the screen blinked out of existence. Once it was gone, James let out a sigh before composing himself and heading for the door of his cabin. The door slid open at his approach, its built-in sensors responding to the clearance codes he carried on his Scroll and yielding to their authority. This type of hardware was present in every door in the fleet to ensure maximum security. Developed and introduced by the brilliant Doctor Polendina, the sensors prevented anyone without a military-class Atlas Scroll from wandering around without an escort.

A simple function, but one that proved highly effective in simulations, slowing down enemy advances or completely halting them in their tracks.

Of course, not every Scroll was granted the same clearance level. High ranking officers such as himself were the only ones granted full-level access across the whole ship, a privilege that was not always invoked.

James passed few people on his way to the elevator, allowing him to reach it little time. He hadn't expected to see many of his officers, most were either filing reports in their cabins or down in Vale, hunting down any remaining Grimm with their squads of Mark 2 Atlesian Knight combat robots. Officially, the threat had been dealt with, but James wanted to be sure there weren't any Grimm left in the city.

He had also ordered his men to keep their eyes open for any other threats to kingdom security, just to be sure.

Still, their absence didn't upset the general. In truth, James took it as a sign that he had been right to bring them. His men were needed here, Atlas was needed here. The other kingdoms preferred to rely on Huntsmen and Huntresses to deal with their problems, considered them a better solution than training and funding a standing army. "The War is over," they would say, "we have no need for armies."

Today showed the consequences of that naïve belief.

True, the Huntsmen and Huntresses of Beacon Academy had played a crucial role in plugging the breach, but it was the Atlas military that made it possible, deploying troops and war machines to contain the Grimm and draw them away from the frightened civilians.

He thanked the gods for his foresight, if James hadn't brought his fleet, things would have ended very differently.

The elevator door opened out into a room with a heavy security door, guarded by two Atlas marines. At the sight of the general, they stood at attention and saluted. James returned the gesture and walked up to the door, stopping to allow the security sensors time to recognize his rank and unlock the door.

It took a few seconds longer than normal, checking then rechecking his ident-codes before releasing the heavy lock system and sliding open. The brig was small in comparison to the other sections of the ship, a ten-by-thirty-foot room with next to nothing inside it save the fifty-five holding cells lined across the walls. Specially designed to take up as little space as possible, each cell was a prison in its own right. They were empty and cold things, barely the size of a janitor's closet with only a single seat for rest that also served as the prisoner's toilet.

The naïve considered such confinement cruel and inhumane, failing or unwilling to see that that was the point of them. The claustrophobic cell was meant to wear on the occupant's mind. In the case of insubordinate crewmen, it made them regret whatever actions lead them to be placed in the cell, for the rare criminal captured, it made them easier to interrogate. A man could only bear such cramped conditions for so long before he started to crave fresh air and sunlight. In such conditions, it was only a matter of time before they started talking.

James wondered how long Torchwick would last.

He walked over to the cell of the man in question where he saw the officer from the video call and two more marines waiting for him. All three turned and saluted their general as they heard him approach and James returned the gesture before ordering them to be at ease. The marines did so, returning to their duty of standing guard by Torchwick's cell, but officer remained at attention.

"Lieutenant," James began, recognizing the display as a means of gaining his attention. "Is there something you wish to say?"

The officer finally lowered his hand. He was a young man, looked around thirty-years old with steel-blue eyes and dark hair cropped short beneath his officer's cap. His face was fairly ordinary save for a small scar on the left side of his face that ran from his ear to his chin. "Yes, sir. I feel the need to inform you that while the prisoner has refused to answer our questions, when we searched him for any concealed weapons, we found this," the lieutenant reached a hand into his side pocket for the item in question, and though he kept his face neutral, James became curious. Why did the man feel the need to show him this object rather than inform him over the video-call?

He got his answer when the officer retrieved the mysterious item from his pocket and showed it to him.

A golden two-head eagle medallion attached to a chain-necklace.

"I apologize for not informing you sooner, sir," The officer said as James took the medallion from his hand, staring intently at it. "Given the Grimm attack, I felt it was not-"

James cut him off. "I do not want to hear excuses, lieutenant," he said, his tone hard and reprimanding. "Protocol regarding these people is simple and straight forward: upon capture of a member of the illegal Church of the God-Emperor the highest-ranking officer is to be informed of the situation immediately so that proper interrogation methods can be authorized and put into application." James glared at the officer, disappointed and irritated with the man. "Your confined to your quarters until further notice, I'll determine a suitable punishment later."

To his credit, the man kept his composure. "Sir, if I may-"

"You may not," James said, in no mood to argue with the man. "Now leave before I have you court-martialed."

The scar-faced officer hesitated for a brief second, then left the brig as ordered, properly chastised. James was pleased to see the officer remained disciplined during his departure, maintaining correct posture and keeping his head high. It showed his resolve to correct his mistake, to endure his punishment and continue serving his kingdom.

James closed his eyes and exhaled softly. He had overreacted. The had simply prioritized the Grimm over a less immediate threat, something James couldn't fault him for. His frustration toward Ozpin's hesitation to take action was finally getting to him it seemed.

He'd give the man a light punishment, perhaps have him mop the officers' mess for a week.

James turned to the cell and the two soldiers guarding it. He walked over it, the hand holding the medallion kept hidden behind his back and opened the door. Roman Torchwick squinted at the light's sudden intrusion and raised a hand to shield his eyes. Despite the fact he had been found inside a half-demolished train car the thief was remarkably unharmed. He had been stripped of his weapon, hat and coat upon being brought on board, nor had he been treated gently by the men.

And yet he was still smiling that insufferable grin of his once he recognized who was standing before him.

"Leave us." Without a word, the two soldiers obeyed, leaving only the general and the thief. "I've been informed that you've been refusing to co-operate."

Torchwick's grin didn't falter. "Is that what Scarface told you?" He leaned back in his cell, chucking softly. "I ask for a room with a better view and what do they do? They go straight to the manager! You might want to think about hiring some new staff, Jimmy, the service here is terrible."

"This isn't some pleasure cruise and you are not a guest. You are a prisoner aboard my ship, and if you continue to be difficult, I can make your stay here very uncomfortable."

Torchwick winced at the threat, mockingly. "Not going to earn yourselves any stars with that kind of talk, General."

"And you're trying my patience, corpse-worshiper," James held out the medallion for Torchwick to see and was immediately rewarded when the thief's smug expression morphed to something more appropriate. Good, now he would take this seriously. "Now, I am going to give you one chance, Torchwick. Whose really behind this? Tell me now and I'll hand you over to the VPD immediately."

Torchwick gave the general a black look. "And if I say no?"

"Then you'll experience firsthand how we deal with cultists like you in Atlas."

The thief was quiet for a while, likely weighing his options. Most people in this situation would take the deal without a second thought. Vale was a kingdom that did not implement the death penalty, instead just giving life in prison to those they considered "too dangerous." Their prisons are more akin to rehabilitation centers with armed guards, designed to reintegrate the inmates back into society and steer them toward a brighter future. Even captured members of the illegal church were offered this path for a second chance – though rumors persisted that they were not always willing to undergo the process.

This contrasted sharply with Atlas, a kingdom where the criminal was offered no such luxuries. Crime was not taken lightly up north, prisons there served to warn against breaking the law, not provide a way out. Solitas' low Grimm population allowed Atlas to be harsh on its prisoners, ensuring they learned the full consequences of their actions. And unlike Vale, Atlas made use of the death penalty.

Crimes like murder, treason, rape, and participating in an illegal religion earned you no second chance in Atlas, just a quick death at the guns of a firing squad.

And yet, faced with a simple life or death choice, Torchwick remained silent, considering his choices. That he was considering them at all was telling, and worrisome.

Finally, the thief hung his head and sighed, "I honestly can't believe you haven't figured it out yet."

James raised an eyebrow at that, allowing a sense of accomplishment to surge through him, only for it to be crushed the moment he saw that smug grin on Torchwick's face again. The thief sat up straight in his cell, spread his arms wide and said: "You've already got him!"

James sighed and berated himself for getting his hopes up. He had wanted to get this over and done with now but knew it would take more than an afternoon of confinement and an ultimatum to get answers out of someone like Roman Torchwick. It had been worth a shot, at least.

James turned to leave. He no longer had any reason to be here and there were calls he needed to make back in his office. From his cell, he heard Torchwick call out, "What's the matter, General? I thought you wanted to talk."

"The Vale Council has given me custody over you for as long as I see fit," James responded. "Rest assured, we will have plenty of time to talk."

When he heard no immediate response, the general took it to mean he had managed cow the man into silence. Once more, his hopes were shattered when a mockingly cheerful voice cried, "Have an Emperor blessed day then!"

James was grateful the thief couldn't see the scowl on his face, he'd given the bastard enough satisfaction already.

~o0o~

The desert kingdom of Vacuo. According to history, it was a peaceful and prosperous kingdom once. Abundant natural resources and the largest Dust deposit in the planet's history brought the kingdom great wealth while natural barriers kept the Grimm from entering this desert oasis. It was a paradise in nearly all regards, attracting countless nomad tribes to travel across the great desert that surrounded the fledgling kingdom and settle within its borders.

But that was centuries ago, before the other kingdoms set their sights on the resource rich region, before the people of Vacuo learned the folly of complacency. What was once a paradise was now a wasteland, just another part of the great desert. As the land changed so too did the people who came to it. No more settling families or prospectors came to Vacuo, criminals on the run. All manner of lawbreakers flocked to the desert kingdom, be they petty thieves, bloodthirsty murderers… or frightened priests.

In the years following Remnant's Great War, many priests of the Imperial Cult fled to Vacuo in search of sanctuary. Though Vacuo fought alongside Vale in the war, it did not acknowledge the decrees of the Vytal Summit that removed the Cult's political power, nor did it prosecute and incarcerate members of the Faith living in its borders when the religion was completely outlawed six years after the Great War's end.

The Faith endured in Vacuo, kept alive through deception and stubbornness. Symbols of the Faith were disguised as harmless works of art, hymns and psalms were changed into simple songs, and the priests adopted the roles of teachers and scholars, spreading the core values of their faith through lectures rather than sermons.

They still met in secret for important ceremonies and blessings, but these were well hidden, and years of bitter resentment for their presence in Vacuo made the other kingdoms all too eager to pull their representatives out once the Vacuo Council officially labeled the remnants of the Imperial Cult within its borders as "dangers to world peace" that would be dealt with accordingly.

It was almost funny, how eager the other kingdoms were to accept the lie spun by Vacuo. Chances are they didn't actually believe the official statement but were too afraid they might start another war to ensure Vacuo followed through with its promise.

Actually, it wasn't funny. It was laughably pathetic how timid Remnant's leaders were and still are toward the prospect of war. No doubt her brother would use it as another reason to despise this world, one she would be inclined to agree with were it not for Remnant's unique… situation.

After all, not many planets are infested with daemons attracted by negative emotions. In a rather ironic twist, the Creatures of Grimm were Remnant's most potent enforcer of peace due to their very nature. The negative emotions produced by a war would draw them to attack both sides of the conflict with equal ferocity, going after solider and civilian alike. In fact, seventy percent of all civilian casualties suffered during the Great War were attributed to the Creatures of Grimm.

They made war… difficult and unappealing, more so than usual. They would be an issue during the initial phases of the invasion. Contingencies would need to be set up to probably deal with them. Yuria made a note to remind Kress of this upon his return.

Just as she finished typing it into her data-slate, the infiltrator heard someone approaching her. Looking up from her work, Yuria smiled when she saw a young waiter advancing toward her table. He looked to be in his late teens and was dressed informally in a white shirt and blue trousers held up by a black synth-leather belt. If it wasn't for the bronze name tag on his chest and the plate of food he was carrying over, he could have passed for just another diner.

Yuria placed her data-slate face down on the next to her as the waiter came up to her, ensuring he couldn't see its contents. In truth however, there was no reason for her to hide the slate. Everything on it was written in Lothin, a language of her and Yole's homeworld exclusive to the planet's nobility. Still, even if the boy couldn't read what it said, the fact it was something outside of Remnant's localized version of Low Gothic would draw his, and others', attention. Better safe than sorry.

"Here's your food!" The boy said with a smile as he set the plate down in front of the Inquisitorial Agent. "One Vacuo-style cheeseburger with onion rings. Enjoy!"

"Thank you," Yuria replied and the waiter left her to her meal, heading off to take another table's order. As he did, the infiltrator picked up her sandwich and took a testing bite out of it. There was a spicy, smoky flavor to the meat that was tempered by the cheese and vegetables just enough so that it wouldn't taste as if she had just eaten fire. Still, the level of heat was unexpected, though not unwelcomed for the amount of flavor it added to the meat. Swallowing the bite, Yuria looked to the fried onion rings that came with her burger in lieu of fries.

"Turn up the volume!"

"Everybody shut up!"

Her fingers were just about to grasp one of the rings when the cry went up. Several of the restaurant's patrons were yelling for silence as the establishment's barkeeper increased the audio on the holo-screen projector above his head. Conversations died as everyone presented turned to look at the screen, or more accurately, the woman on it.

"…The breach was sealed before too many Grimm were able to enter the city, and any remaining Grimm are being hunted down by local Huntsmen and Huntresses and Atlas personnel. Several buildings in the area were destroyed by the fighting and many people were left injured by the unexpected attack, and the number of dead has yet to be determined…"

People began to mutter as the newscaster continued her report. Many were wondering how the Grimm managed to bypass Vale's defenses so easily, while others worried about friends and family members who had traveled to Vale for the Vytal Festival. Yuria saw more than a few individuals sneer at the projector, vindication in their eyes.

"Reconstruction efforts are already underway, and should not affect the- wait, hold on just a moment." Yuria turned back to the screen. The woman was facing away from the recorder, hand over her ear, nodding at something the audience was not privy to. After a moment, she turned back to face the recorder. "Breaking news! We have just received word that the Vale Council has appointed General James Ironwood of the Atlas Military as head of security for the Vytal Festival!"

The muttering grew louder at the announcement, and hostile. The Vacuo locals cursed the general's name as his portrait appeared on the hololith display, hurling all manner of vulgar insults at him and his kingdom. The northern kingdom of Atlas – called Mantle before the war – was as opposite to Vacuo as Macragge was to Necromunda. Clashing cultural and ideological beliefs put the two kingdoms at odds with each other. Vacuo saw Atlas as greedy upstarts who wanted to control everything while Atlas saw Vacuo as a lawless nest of cutthroats and thieves.

The fact that Mantle, and by extension Atlas, was one of the first to sign the document outlawing the Imperial Church was also a source of indignation for the more faithful Vacuins.

But Yuria didn't care about that, her thoughts were on her brother. For a brief moment, she worried he might have been killed in the attack, or worse, compromised and captured. She dismissed these fears as quickly as they appeared. Yole was too clever to die in something so poorly orchestrated as… whatever this was supposed to be. He was her twin after all.

Still, this Atlas general may prove troublesome. Atlas was the only kingdom on Remnant with the sense to have a standing army and it was the most technologically advanced kingdom on the planet. There was no telling what sort of devices might be at this general's disposal, or how much influence his status as head of security would allow him.

Yuria sighed and looked down at her meal. Her appetite was gone, chased off by this unpleasant development. Not wanting the food to go to waste, she called over one of the waiters to box it for her. Once it was boxed, she paid for her meal and left. As she walked out the restaurant's main entrance, Yuria pulled out her Scroll and dialed in a contact code.

Ring… Ring… click! "Hello! This Matty Grey with Royal Blue Airlines. How can I help you today?"

~o0o~

Author's Note: I'll be honest, writing Ironwood's scene made me realize how much that scene in the show didn't make sense. I mean, it was a good scene, but when you stop to think about you start asking questions like why Ironwood was having a very private and important chat in the ship's brig? Why does a warship have a brig that looks like it spans the entire width of the ship? Why does the brig have giant ass fancy windows? There were just so many tiny things that made scratch my head, I just had to change it up to make more sense.

Also, just for clarification, Yuria finds out about this several hours after the breach happened, just when the choice to appoint Ironwood as chief of security is made public. Originally, I was going have her pull a gun on someone trying to hit on her, but it just didn't flow that well.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the lore for my story, and I apologize if I made things seem clunky and weird.

Also, did you guys see the repulsor executioner? Damn that thing is awesome looking, can't wait to see how the vanguard marines look in their multi pose sprues. And if you can't tell, yes, I am still kicking myself in the back for not having Primaris. Say what you will, but those boys are awesome looking! Expect a time skip next chapter, things are finally starting to speed up.

As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!

DeadRich18 Out!