...

Fighting Rose

Chapter 46

Gathering

Ozpin's soulless, charred husk of a corpse was slumped over on its knees, placed in the very middle of the ruin that was once his office. It had taken her quite a lot of effort not to lose herself within her newfound strength and blow up the tower outright. The roof and most of the walls had been blown out, five great spires shaped like fingers remaining to point up, the entire CCT looking like a massive hand grasping towards the sky. Cinder breathed out, letting her roaring power cool and adrenaline fade. She had to admit, that power was intoxicating, but she still wasn't used to it even with her unique constitution and circumstances.

'We will master it,' The demon within her said confidently. 'And turn the Anathema's own power against the people he attempts to protect.'

Cinder nodded, soothed by Raum's words.

'One step at a time, companion,' She chuckled, overlooking the carnage. Already she could see the funeral procession making their way across the great stone bride, the frantic defences and mortar systems hastily put in place to give the defenders as much time as possible to save a few more lives. It saddened her to see so many innocent people caught up in something they didn't understand. Yet the storm of emotions unleashed across the kingdom tasted like ecstasy.

She centred herself and ignored the delicious tides of anguish washing over her, turning to face Ozpin's corpse. Still attached to his face was the Relic, the Mask of Life. Even with her newfound power, even with Raum there to strengthen her even further, she was hesitant to even go near it. Erebus had given her the legends and warnings of such a relic, giving life to inanimate objects, forever screaming to be put out of their misery. People and even the greatest of warriors mutated into lumps of whining flesh, all because they couldn't control its power.

'We are capable,' Raum assured her, 'We will not fail.'

'…I hope not,' She thought, walking to the edge and sitting down, her feet dangling as she quietly observed. '…Tell me more about your previous host, Argel Tal. I quite like him.'

}-{

Pyrrha was fighting with everything she had, her circlet broken, face bloodied and hair flinging wildly as she ducked under the slash of a Scudo Angelo, the edge of her shield biting up into its jaw and her blade piercing up through its chin as its head snapped up. She made sure to tear her blade free from its skull in the messiest way possible, going so far as to decapitate it as it fell and stabbing it in its lower spine. She did not miss the mix of black and crimson blood spilling from its wounds, human brain matter falling from its broken skull onto the floor.

"They're putting people…" Sun whispered, his face pale, "…Gods help us…"

"No god is going to help us," Pyrrha said, her voice hollow, "Come on. We're almost there."

Ruby's tremors and seizures hadn't ceased, but they'd lessened somewhat, Sun having tied her tightly to his chest with her cloak to keep her immobilized. Pyrrha and Sun knew that it wouldn't last and continued to move through the gore-soaked corridors, sticking closely to each other as Sun led the way.

"Okay, it's just around this corner!" He said, both of them sharply turning into it before they stopped dead in their tracks. Three Angelo-type Grimm stood at the end of the corridor, blocking the door to Sun's dorm, but in that moment, he couldn't care less about getting into his room.

One Angelo was a typical Scudo, though its shield seemed smaller and sword fashioned after a scimitar. The other bore no shield, instead having a biological rifle engulfing its entire right arm up to its elbow, crackling with blue plasma. The final one stood in front, two heads taller than the others, its horns larger, body more ornately armoured, wielding an ultra-greatsword easily as long as it was tall.

Scudo Angelo

Fucile Angelo

Proto Angelo

"No… please no…!" He croaked, vision growing blurry as he recognized the bastardized shapes of the weapons and their bodily proportions. Pyrrha blasted in without pause, flinging her shield to smack into the Fucile's face before its gun could go off, her shield bouncing off the other two's heads before landing back on her arm as she crashed into the Proto Angelo. It brought its massive blade up to block faster than she expected but she continued to barrel forward, pushing herself off the moment she felt her momentum die to fling herself at the rifle-wielding Angelo, smashing her heel into its knee, slashing up across its chest, bringing her blade across its stomach and moving with her attack to pivot out of the way as the Scudo's scimitar cut down where she once stood.

"GO!" Was all the room she was given to scream as the flat of the Proto's blade blasted into the side of her head, sending her crashing through a wall as the three Angelos snarled and followed after her. Sun was stand there for a moment, shaking with horror and grief at the realization of what his team, his friends had become before he felt Ruby's own trembling become more violent. He clenched his fists so hard that his nails cut through his aura and bit into his palms, blood dripping from his knuckles and tears sliding down his face as he sprinted into the room. He let out a choked sob as the first thing he saw amidst the chaos was the desk dragged into the middle of the room, an untouched, sloppy looking cake with a single burning candle sitting on it.

'Congratulations Champ!' Was written on it with golden frosting.

He bit down on his lip, again forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. Stepping around the desk, he quickly made his way to the bloody ruin that was his bed, frantically flinging away the bloody sheets and broken wood. It was a small wonder that the tiny wooden box he hid under his mattress was in one piece. He tore it open, shakily taking out a tiny, green bean and gently placing it in Ruby's mouth, closing it and massaging her throat to help her ease it down. For a moment, nothing changed, Ruby still continuing to seize up before in the blink of an eye, her pale pallor was washed away by the healthy glow of her usual fairness, the trembling ceasing entirely, the pain-wracked tension deserting her body altogether. Her breathing was normal, heartrate steadily coming down to normal, her wounds healed as if time had reversed. He sobbed openly and hugged her tightly: she was going to be okay.

And then the Proto Angelo's boot hammered into his jaw from behind.

}-Beacon's Airdocks-{

Moving survivors, the wounded, supplies and smaller airships was a nightmare, even after it had been decided that the cafeteria would be the next best place to shelter. Worse yet, not everyone was being very cooperative.

"Please, she's my teammate and she needs help!" Weiss cried as Yang curled in on herself, her skin pale and clammy, constantly shifting in and out of her uncontrolled Devil Trigger. Blake was unconscious, her exhaustion taking too heavy of a toll on her.

"She's a demon!" One of the soldiers shouted, "And the other one is a Faunus, who's just another hell-spawn! We should just put them out of their misery and kill her now!"

"Touch any of them and I'll end you!" Weiss growled, her hand going to her rapier. Even low on aura, she wouldn't hesitate to slay her own countrymen for the sake of the people who were her family.

"Got a couple of survivors here!" An eager second-year said as he brought in a group of figures who were all dressed in rags. An initial glance turned into a full-on stare as she caught the flash of a serrated dagger made of what looked like obsidian. Images flooded her mind of its ability to cut open the veil between realities, of bloody sacrifices, rituals and obscene crimes that made her sick; an Athame dagger. The one bearing the dagger lunged, stabbing clean through the poor boy's aura and into his spine. He wasn't able to cry out as he was stabbed repeatedly, almost everyone watching frozen stiff as he was turned into a limp pincushion.

"HERETICS!" Weiss roared, whipping Myrtenaster out and blasting a wave of fire at them. Six of the twelve died screaming in agony, but she didn't falter nor feel sorry. These vile sub-humans were little better than the Grimm, and they needed to die in nothing short of agony. She flew across the pavement, teeth bared like an animal as she turned into a tempest of blades, the Mirage Myrtenaster in her other hand stabbing through hearts and decapitating heads in crescents of light. One drew a chipped axe and hacked down at her head, but compared to Adam, to the Bloodletter, to almost every enemy she'd faced up until now, he fell woefully short as she conjured a Summoning glyph behind him, two Hellblades shooting out to cut clean through his knees, his scream of pain cut even shorter as she stabbed Myrtenaster through his mouth and blasted a stream of molten rock down his throat.

She fired a copy of Pyrrha's own Milo in spear-form from another Glyph hanging over her shoulder, impaling the cultist still stabbing away at the dead boy's corpse through his torso. It should have killed him, but he turned his blood-soaked face to her and smiled, his latest sacrifice empowering him as one arm suddenly split itself in half, his ulna-bones reshaping into a distorted crab-claw as the other turned into a collection of winding, barbed whips.

"The prince bathes me with her radiant pleasures!" He cried out in ecstasy, bringing the whips down on her head. The Hellblade slashed up, cutting clean through the whip's many barbed tendrils, Mirage Myrtenaster firing off Cryo-Dust and freezing his legs in place before she blurred forward, her hands gripping Adam's Wilt and Blush as the red blade flashed out in a perfect quick-draw slash. She cut through his crab-claw appendage as he reached out to crush her head, smoothly transitioning to a cut that separated his torso from his legs, crushing the corpse to mush with a quick Gravity Glyph. She spat on the corpse and turned back to check on Yang, only to freeze as she saw a figure kneeling over her. Raven Branwen silently examined Yang's writhing form, the latter too delirious with pain to focus her gaze on her mother.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Weiss screamed, the weight behind her words making Raven flinch and almost back away from Yang, until crimson flames burst from her eyes for a split second and she resisted the compulsion. Weiss was already upon her, Licht Bergippfel descending towards her head. Raven reacted instantly, Omen flashing out in an arc of red light and slamming against the flat of Bergippfel with a bell-like *CLANG*, the ultra-greatsword's chop redirected and slicing into the floor right next to Raven's feet. Weiss felt Omen's blade press against her throat and gnashed her teeth in rage: why did this keep happening?

"I can help her," Raven said, almost blandly. "Her potential is being released too early, and her body can't keep up with it."

"Why should I trust you with Yang's life?" Weiss snarled, "Why should Yang trust you!?"

"Because I'm the only one qualified to help her with this," Raven said calmly, "And let's be real: you don't have time or the luxury of a choice."

Weiss's aura popped and flared, veins popping up on her forehead as she struggled not to try and run Raven through, a task that she ultimately knew would end in failure.

"…Try anything funny…" Weiss hissed through gnashing teeth, "And I will kill you."

Raven cocked her head to the side, eyebrows going up in surprise before her mouth curled into an amused grin.

"You've got some balls, I'll give you that much," She chuckled before he knelt back down to Yang's side, the amusement wiped off her face as she gently took Yang's demonized hand in her own. Weiss was startled by the sudden softness that overtook Raven's features as she started to speak.

"Yang," She said gently, "Focus on me. Focus on my power."

Raven's arm suddenly transformed in a flash of red light, Weiss shaking at the wall of power that slammed into her. She was easily as strong as Adam, and Weiss could feel the swirl of further strength not yet unleashed. Her forearm was armoured with razor-sharp feathers, pitch black skin and short but wickedly sharp talons textured like a bird of prey's. Yang turned hazy eyes towards Raven, the roiling mutations slowing down as she set her jaw and focused.

"Good," Raven said, "Demonic power is part of your soul. Focus that power into your arm, bend it to your will."

Yang groaned as the changes across her body vanished one-by-one while her demonic arm began to glow brighter with its stored power. Too brightly: Weiss could see her golden skin starting to blacken and burn, Yang sweating and crying out in pain as her hair glowed brighter and brighter.

"What are you-!?"

Raven's hand moved quicker than a blink, slicing Yang's demonic arm clean off right where it met her human flesh. Yang gasped, back arching and eyes glowing blood red before she slumped.

"You MOTHERF-!" Weiss shrieked, stabbing down at Raven with her rapier only for the older woman to grip the blade with her bare hand, stopping it in its tracks. Weiss felt tears spring into her eyes. Again and again, was she too weak to stop anyone from hurting the people she loved?

"Calm down," Raven hissed as she ran a glowing hand just over Yang's bleeding stump, right below the elbow, "The loss of a limb for someone like us isn't a big deal, and if she can't cope, then that's her business."

Weiss watched in stunned silence as the wound healed before her eyes, a smooth stump of flesh replacing the exposed meat and bone.

"…I'm already putting my neck on the line for doing this," Raven sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing, "…But she gets one save. I…"

The Chieftain of the Demonic Branwen Sect faded for a moment, the slumped and tired woman underneath it all peeking through the front for a brief moment.

"…She deserves at least that much," Raven muttered. She stared at the tense Weiss, her tired eyes hardening and back straightening, the mantle of Chieftain reasserting itself once more. "Take care of yourself Schnee. Oh and…"

Raven snatched up Yang's demonic arm, still crackling with power before Raven's aura flowed around and stabilized it, a swirling red portal opening up behind her.

"Tell her I'll be waiting," She said with her usual smirk, "And that she'll need to earn this back. Ciao."

The last thing Weiss saw of Yang's mother was her using Yang's severed arm to wave a goodbye before she hopped back through the portal. Shaking off her confusion, she quickly checked on Yang and found that she was still doing perfectly fine, minus one arm. Her breathing was even, her heartrate was strong and steady, her sickly heat having faded away.

Weiss let out a shaky sob of relief, almost slumping over Yang as she struggled to maintain her composure, knowing that an army was on the way. The rest of Juniper had spearheaded the relocation to the cafeteria, Atlan Guard forces divided into squads tasked with either helping relocate materials while others focus on building fortified positions. Las-cannons, mortars, firing squads, all were positioned in preparation for the oncoming threat. It wasn't merely an army of daemons that were on their way either.

"I… I don't know how but…" Weiss could overhear a solider with binoculars saying, "…Vale's getting closer."

"The hell are you-?" The soldier next to him snatched the binoculars away and peered through himself. "…Emperor help us, are we being pulled towards Vale?!"

Weiss's head snapped towards the stone bride, and to her horror, she could see that they were right: the stone structure wasn't a bridge, it was a giant rope, and it was pulling Beacon itself closer and closer to Vale, half a mile away at best and steadily closing. An army of daemons was one thing, but a kingdom's worth of them? Amongst the wailing and squirming buildings, she could see them getting closer. Horns like tree-bark, eyes melting and skin eternally rotting from supernatural diseases. Floating figures with a dozen mouths, each of them belching iridescent fire. Obscene and horrifically beautiful figures dancing to the screaming song of Vale. Monsters with skinless flesh and brass blades. A horde of Astartes, some cast in black and gold, others painted in crimson. The one leading the march was a majestic and terrible being, golden-skinned and crowned by horns, draped in arterial crimson armour and robes, a spiked mace floating around him. She stared too long at it and her mind was flooded by images she was not meant to see.

The perfect city, Monarchia, destroyed by a wave of fire. A legion of silver forced to their knees by The Emperor. Cyrene, the blind woman who would become the blessed lady. The truth of the world behind reality revealed to him by four great shadows, their hands on the hearts of every living being on the planet.

'All I ever wanted was the truth,' Wrote Lorgar Aurelian.

She quickly looked away, but her eyes were drawn to a smaller (though by no means small) figure standing next to the Daemon Primarch. An Astartes in towering Terminator warplate, painted black and gold, his brutish face bared to proudly display a topknot with red hair. On one hand, a gauntlet with wickedly sharp talons for fingers –

The Angel in golden armour was beaten like a dog, his chest caved in, lungs collapsed, every bone in his body broken to flinders. His weapons, a swordspear and greatsword, lay uselessly next to him. Taloned fingers wrapped around his throat and snapped his neck. Daemons cackled and cavorted across the Angel's corpse, stringing it up for all to see –

Something in her brain fractured, and Weiss tore her gaze away, only to land on the glowing blue blade in the Astartes's other hand. Screaming faces danced across the blade, its hilt decorated by a living, snarling face –

He screamed as he picked up the rock, watching with fierce pleasure as his brother's bruised face twisted in fear before he brought the rock down, caving his skull in. The first human murder, and the millions more to follow. Empires ended, monarchs slain. Artoria Pendragon stabbed by her treacherous child. A war in a dimension between reality and the Sea of Souls, facing down The Emperor. Being thrust into the chest of one of the most loyal warriors to ever live.

'Run, Ra.' The Emperor ordered. Ra Endymion ran.

Weiss collapsed to her knees and vomited, her nose and eyes bleeding, her brain throbbing with pain. She shook and shivered, clutching her arms around herself, bloody tears sliding down her slack face like oil as she hyperventilated. How were they supposed to fight that? How could she ever fight that?

"W-Weiss!"

Blake's croaking voice snapped Weiss back to reality and she bit her lip hard. So what if she had to fight that? Was she so weak that she'd simply give up her sworn duty in the face of unfavourable odds? Would Ruby ever consider giving in? No. Never. She stood and quickly made her way up to Blake, the latter's eyes going wide at the sight of the blood on Weiss's face.

"Are you… okay!?" Blake wheezed, a shaky hand coming up to gently touch Weiss's cheek. Weiss cursed herself and quickly wiped away what she could with her sleeve.

"I'll be fine Blake," Weiss assured her with confidence she didn't feel, "Just close your eyes. Jaune is going to be back soon, and he'll help me get you both to the Cafeteria."

"Weiss, y-you…" Blake started before her hackles raised. Weiss suddenly felt it too: a buildup of unnaturally cold and ionized air. The sharp whip of displaced air and flash of light disoriented them both, Weiss whipping around with Myrtenaster drawn and ready, expecting a daemon to have appeared in the centre of the docks. She wished it was just a daemon.

"Oh God, please no," She whispered.

"Secure the perimeter," Jacques Gele commanded, Astartes in blizzard white and copper-rimmed plating spread out to the edges of the docks facing Beacon. "Cliffbreaker Terminators, stay with me. Iron Sky, provide overwatch."

"Understood Lord," They spoke as one, their voices metallic and grating through their vox-grill helmets.

Soldiers, civilians and Hunters alike gaped in awe at the towering, cloaked figure, his presence washing over everyone like a blizzard as a dozen, heavily armed and armoured fighter-class airships hovered overhead. Weiss felt her lungs freeze as Jacques's gaze locked onto her, an eyebrow raising in surprise. He strode over to her, hands clasped behind his back as Astartes armoured in even thicker warplate stomped behind him, their stone-grey and white-trimmed Terminator armour giving the impression of living, snow-capped mountains. Jacques towered over her, ignoring the bowing forms of the Atlan Guard crying 'Übermensch! Übermensch!' in praise.

"I was going to pick you up after I ran an errand," He said casually, "But this is far more convenient for me."

"Look at you, being a father for once," Weiss spat.

His smile made her tremble, and his piercing gaze made her feel vulnerable. She knew what he was now, and knew that as she was now, and even at her best, she could never hope to raise a hand to him.

"…You have uncovered many secrets," He said evenly. "And you see me for what I am. You know what these warriors who follow my every command are. Your mind has expanded. I am pleased."

"Anything I do is not for your pleasure, that I assure you," She sneered back.

"And yet the more you struggle, the more you help open the door to the Golden Path," He mused, Weiss's face twisting in confusion.

"What are you-?"

"Plans within plans, my daughter," he said, "Millions of different paths, and only one can ensure that…" He shook his head, "Never mind that. Too soon for you to know anyway. That being said…"

He somehow managed to straighten further, his expression going dead.

"Weiss Schnee," He spoke formally, "Your time at Beacon is at an end and you are required to return with me to Atlas. Your consent is not required."

She leapt at him with Myrtenaster drawn, poised to stab right through his neck. He caught the thrusting blade in his grip and she felt her wrist fracture from the sharp halt of momentum. She didn't stop, summoning its Mirage counterpart and aiming another stab at his eye.

"Down."

Her body shot to the floor like an anvil, her heart beating like it was fit to burst as her own gravity increased tenfold, blood gushing from her nose. He knelt down and picked up Mirage Myrtenaster, examining it with keen interest.

"Fascinating," He muttered, "So it would seem that my innate abilities and the Schnee glyphs have combined, filtered through the uniqueness of your soul…" he turned to her and smiled, "I consider my previous theory correct then."

"DROP DEAD!" She screamed pointing a finger ringed by glyphs up at his head. Invisible kinetic force punched up into his face with enough power to send a bus flying, but Jacques merely squinted as if facing a particularly strong gust of wind. She rolled to her feet and summoned Licht Bergippfel, slashing up and aiming to cut clean through his ribs, only for him to catch the blade with one palm and shatter it with an elbow. She didn't stop, an array of glyphs flaring to life behind her and firing a dozen Hellblades at him. His arm was a blur, slapping each and every one of them into the floor like child's-play, yet she descended from above with two chainaxes in her hands aimed to rip and tear his skull open. His shortsword came up and blocked her downward chops, hooking into the crook of the axes before he sharply twisted, shattering them in her hands. She didn't stop, Ruby's own Beowulf materializing onto her fists as she threw a barrage of punches while falling, ethereal white petals exploding across his armour with each hit. He stood there and took every single attack, eyes glittering with intrigue. Adam's Wilt was next, Weiss slashing up into his ribs and finishing with a downward cut that would've tore a tank open.

"Shatter."

Wilt was reduced to tiny fragments on impact, though not without leaving a tiny gash on Jaques's armour. She dashed back, barely avoiding a backhanded slap that could've split her skull open, sweat pouring down her face. Her auric circuits burned, muscles cramping and tearing at the overuse of aura. The only things keeping her standing was her control over her own aura and the sheer hatred for the man standing in front of her.

"So many different weapons, all near-perfect copies of the original containing a sliver of their owners' essence…" He said aloud, examining the cut on his armour, "Capable of summoning both purely physical and warp-tainted weaponry, yet the only real strain is upon your auric reserves being depleted in accordance with the power of the weapon and your ability to process its information, all of which you're capable of with no sign of corruption. Excellent Weiss, excellent! Push yourself to your limit and show me how useful you can be!"

She was already instinctively drawing upon the greatest weapon now within her arsenal. She would not be able to handle any of the three weapons she glimpsed within the hordes of daemons, but within the terrible memories of that wicked talon were a blade and spear who belonged to an angel. She knew that she would never be able to draw out their full power, but that was okay. She just needed enough to kill the bastard standing in front of her.

"No future is set in stone! Upon my wings, I uplift humanity!" Weiss roared as she shot forward, white feathers dancing through the air as a beautiful greatsword with a ruby-inlaid hit shone into existence in her grip. Time slowed in her vision as her body sped up, the traces of power from its original owner enough to empower her far beyond what she thought possible. "Fear the old blood: BLADE ENCARMINE!"

She swung down with the sword of the angel, aiming to tear him in half from collarbone to hip. There was a piercing shriek of shorn steel as his hand shot up to catch it, only for the Blade Encarmine to rip through the gauntlet and embed itself all the way into his elbow. The Astartes surrounding them immediately turned their guns on Weiss, the latter sneering fiercely in triumph. The sneer was wiped off her face as she realized he wasn't in pain, nor was he bleeding. She blinked and looked closer at the wound: where there should have beet split flesh and sliced bone, there was a smooth, silver metal.

'The same as Penny's blades: necrodermis?!' She realized as the liquid metal began to flow back into the shape of an arm. 'A prosthetic! But who could have-?'

The strain of summoning a weapon that belonged to a Primarch on top of her exhaustion slammed into her all at once. Her circuits exploded with agony, the Blade Encarmine shattering into feathers as she collapsed to the floor, her muscles wildly contracting and twisting without her input. Jacques simply watched as his prosthetic reknit itself back into shape, the silver surface changing to reflect his natural skin-tone, its repaired appearance no different from a real flesh-and-blood arm. He flexed and wiggled his fingers, sickening glee on his face as he knelt and stared at Weiss's convulsing form on the floor.

"You have far exceeded my expectations," he congratulated her, "There is no way I will let you out of my grasp now."

She gnashed her teeth and spat at him, the Primarch not flinching as spittle flecked his cheek. Blake cried out weakly and tried to stand, only to collapse as her legs gave out. Nobody else was interfering, all Atlan soldiers too in awe of the Primarch.

"Equerry!" he called, turning to a particular Astartes, his armour embossed with silver outlines rather than copper. "Secure your sister in the Warship. I have matters to attend to now."

"As you wish father," The Astartes bowed. Something about his voice sounded familiar to Weiss as he made his way over to her and roughly yanked her up by her hair, Weiss stifling a cry of pain and turning it into a snarl. The Astartes roughly pulled her up to eye-level, and she could just faintly make out a snicker from under his helmet before the *click* of a radio being activated echoed from the helm.

"This is the Primarch's Equerry," He said, her stomach dropping as she recognized who that voice belonged to, "I require an escort for a high-priority target."

There was a small nod of confirmation before he took off his helmet, revealing a face so familiar yet so alien in how much it had artificially grown.

"Hello sister," Whitley sneered, "Surprised to see that I'm no longer the little 'pissant' you get to bully around?"

He didn't give her the chance to voice her surprise as his armoured fist blasted into her stomach. Blood and bile fired from her mouth and nose as her ribs snapped, pain dyeing her vision red as she curled in on herself. She could barely make out the thudding of landing gear hitting the floor, Whitley dragging her body across the ground as Blake cried out for Weiss, and the last thing she could see of her friend's face was horror as the door closed.

}-{

"We should just swarm him," Abbadon grumbled, shifting in his Terminator armour and clenching his fist around Drach'nyen, the screaming faces within the glowing blade seeming to deepen in their agony. "We would be able to kill him with our combined forces."

"Patience Warmaster," Lorgar said, his voice as serene and regal as ever, "You know that my brother is cannier than most and is formidable in his own right. We would be able to destroy him, yes, but at great cost. I have glimpsed futures where he may even stop the Ceremony, and many of those futures reveal that you will die in the attempt. Do not act rashly."

The Warmaster of Chaos grumbled and returned to his silence. It was never a good reminder that no matter what power he acquired, he still was a step below the likes of the Primarchs. Lorgar on the other hand was rather excited to finally meet his brother, one he'd never gotten the chance to personally greet before the Heresy. The gods had whispered to him many things when he sought answers for why some of his legion were being stopped by Astartes in white and bronze, most illegible and laced with lies, but some words caught his attention.

Brother revealed, lost son. Equal. Budding Godling.

It wasn't long before Jacques made his way to them, hands clasped behind his back. They stared at each other for a few moments, taking each other in. Daemons hissed and balked at Jacques's aura, but he paid them no mind. Lorgar stepped forward until they were face to face, an arm's length away from each other before he stuck out a hand.

"A pleasure to greet you, lost brother," He said, bowing to him.

"And to you," Jacques returned the formality, clasping his hand and shaking firmly. Even being a few heads shorter than Lorgar didn't stop the Emperor of Atlas from standing on equal footing.

"If my general predictions have been correct," Jacques spoke, "Then I believe that Dorn and Magnus have been captured successfully. Few threats stand in your way today."

"You really aren't going to attempt anything?" Lorgar asked, pleasantly surprised by his straightforwardness. "You have a good chance at disrupting the Ceremony."

"I am aware," Jacques nodded, "But such an endeavour is shortsighted. My resources are finite, while everything has been set in motion for the Ceremony to take place. I'm not so foolish that I would lose my most valuable assets attempting to delay something that has been inevitable."

Lorgar cocked his head, silently observing his brother for any lie. Jacques allowed it, knowing that there was no lie to be found.

"…You have…" Lorgar said after a moment, "Faith that this plan of yours will work."

Jacques nodded, his smile growing wider.

"Indeed I do. I always felt that our father was too dismissive of what faith could accomplish. I have much to thank you for, brother."

Lorgar was at a loss for words. It was one thing to have an entire kingdom worship the man who renounced his faith, but another thing entirely to have a brother not only agree with its use but actively use it to gain strength.

"I'll be honest, it feels strange knowing that something I created is being actively used against me," he chuckled before his features smoothed out, becoming more neutral. "You must understand that regardless of your ability to embrace faith as a weapon, you will still lose. Your new Imperium will still fall and the material shall finally merge with the immaterial."

"Perhaps," Jacques conceded, "Or perhaps I will succeed, and Chaos will forever be bound to myths and petty raids at the head of craven little warlords, like that one there," He gestured over to Abaddon, the latter's face bulging with veins.

"Petty raids?" The Warmaster snarled, "I have obtained power that would see the flesh stripped from your bones! My blade will end the likes of you-!"

"COME HERE."

Abaddon was yanked forward through the air, his boots screeching against the concrete until he was directly beside Lorgar.

"ON YOUR KNEES."

The Warmaster of Chaos was forced to kneel on all fours as the weight of a planet slammed into his back, blood flowing from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Lorgar was surprised and impressed as daemons shrieked in agony from his brother's voice, many of the weaker ones even falling to their knees.

"Do not interrupt your betters when they are speaking," Jacques hissed, his face contorted in a visage of pinched fury before he calmed, "Apologies for my rudeness."

"Aaah," He nodded in approval. "So that is what our father gifted you."

"It's not quite true Enuncia, as you can see," Jacques sighed, not even bothering to play coy, "But rather the tone of it. I would probably be far more effective if I had gotten my hands on the actual language itself and was fully capable of withstanding the drawback, but what I have now suits my goals perfectly fine."

"I see that," Lorgar chuckled, "I suppose that you'll be leaving now?"

"Correct," Jacques confirmed, "I have many things to do. Plans within plans... farewell brother. When we meet again, it will be as enemies, but make no mistake, I hold no personal qualms with you."

"And I you," Lorgar bowed, "Go in peace, brother. You will fall soon enough, but I feel that I will mourn you all the same."

Jacques returned the bow before turning to look down at the still-kneeling form of Abaddon.

"With people like you at Horus's side," he sneered, "It's no wonder he failed."

Jacques was in a very good mood as he made his way back across the stone platform. Abaddon, having been humiliated in front of an army he was supposed to be leading, was decidedly not.

}-{

"I won't let you out."

Her 'mother' stared at her, cocking 'her' head at Ruby, the latter's breathing ragged as barbed purple chains wrapped tightly around her kneeling figure.

"Why not?" Not-Summer asked, "You were beaten badly. On the verge of death. I can give you strength. You will never lose with me at your side."

"I don't want you anywhere near me," Ruby snarled, "I don't want you anywhere near my friends, my family."

"You have no choice," The false one hissed, her mouth stretching unnaturally, eyes bulging out of their sockets. "Either you keep me locked up because of your misplaced pride and everyone around you dies, or you let me out and we will win."

Ruby was silent, shivering in disgust as she felt cold, dead hands drape themselves on her shoulders, an inhuman voice whispering into her ear from behind using lips that did not belong to them.

"Think about it," It cooed, "You can feel it, can't you? The pain of Mercury's attack… it's expanded your mind. For you to subconsciously control your own aura to the point where his technique doesn't kill you is impressive enough, but to feel what's going on around you even in such a state… you know that your family is in danger."

Ruby clenched her teeth, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hide her emotions from it.

"The pain, the fear, the suffering…" It purred, "Even as a fraction of my former self, I can feel it too. The meeting of reality and unreality, the dying screams of hundreds of thousands – no, millions of souls."

Ruby's teeth ground against each other even harder.

"How long can you stay true to those ideals when there's so many people who need your help? Who need you to be invincible under the sun?"

"Keep talking and I'll rip my eyes from my own skull," She snarled.

"We know that's not how it works," It snickered, "Unless you're dead, it doesn't matter how much flesh you take from yourself, I'll always be here because I'm part of you."

Something suddenly surged through Ruby's body: the relaxing sensation of muscle and bone knitting itself together perfectly, Mercury's technique shattering against her reinvigorated auric circuits as her soul exploded with power. Ruby stood, the dreamscape fading away as she regained control over herself.

"You are not what makes me powerful," Ruby snarled, "And you'd have to rip my heart out before I'd ever consider letting something like you control me."

It continued to smirk, even as its body rippled like a mirage.

"We'll see."

Ruby Rose opened her eyes in time to see a blade descending for her head, and her aura exploded.

...TWBY Continued...