Saint Summer the Huntress

by Korykr

To most death is the end. To some death is a doorway. To Summer death is a beginning. Separated from her home and family, she must carve her way across a galaxy in flames in order to return to them. Nothing would get in her way. Not aliens, monsters, daemons, or evil gods. She would return to Remnant and leave her mark on the galaxy.

4. Chapter 4

Before we start I would like to thank you all for your reviews. Even the critical ones. It helps me stay focused. Chapters will take longer to post as this goes on. I have other projects I'm working on. I got the first three out quickly because I already had preplanned the basic framework. I want to improve the quality of my work. All I ask for is time.

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Chapter 4: Vision in the Storm

Summer shifted in her seat awkwardly, glancing around as the compartment rattled like a rapier wasps' nest. The atmosphere was a little tense, and she could not help but blame herself.

At the crack of dawn, the entire army was roused and quickly reorganized. She did not pay attention to the specifics as Strang dragged her around under armed escort while he inspected the troops. All of them either ignored her or sent distrusting glances at her. But none of them attempted anything when Strang was within earshot. They would whisper to each other like gossipy teenage girls. The difference was that they probably wanted to shoot her and judging their looks she could only assume her guess was close to accurate. In both cases, she preferred if they ignored her. Prejudice like that just gets in the way. She knew that well enough. Seeing faunus and humans working together well enough without problems was proof of that.

Then came the embarkation. Everyone was packed into these tank transports. Elaine called them Chimeras. To Summer, they were built like a bunker. Treads big enough to crush a herd of Boartusks and enough guns to fend off a flock of juvenile Nevermore. If the inside were a little comfier then it would get a perfect score in her book. Tough tanks made for safely transporting troops into hostile areas while maintaining the ability to defend itself. Overall, it was really cool.

Now, she was stuck in one with the squad she helped yesterday. At the request of Elaine. Good thing Strang trusts her, else that conversation would be awkward. To add to that good fortune, Strang was called away to deal with someone who was having a mental breakdown from what she heard. Not wanting to waste time he told Elaine to go on without him. Hopefully, he'll be able to help the poor man. Summer wanted to sigh in relief. The man had an intense attitude that made interactions very stressful. The closest thing she had to a comparison was when Ozpin talked about Salem's schemes, but even that fell short.

Summer blinked when she realized she was gritting her teeth at the thought of those two. Anger kept bubbling to the surface every time she thought about them. Why was she angry? Why shouldn't she be? Their war was the reason she was here in the first place. Salem and her Grimm, tormenting humanity just because they can. No rhyme or reason. Just killing. Ozpin lies and keeps secrets that are detrimental to his cause. Had he told her she was unkillable, would she have been shocked? Sure. Would she have given up? No. They would have found another way. She may have refused the mission on her own. But that was no reason to lie to her.

The thought almost brought a snarl to her face. That witch, riding high on her immortality, believes she's above consequences. That condescending smile on her face. Ozpin, and all his talk of trust in the secrecy of their mission. It made her blood boil when she realized that his secrets were more important that the trust he preached. He had more. If he kept this a secret then he had a reason. Which only counted as more secrets. Fooling them into thinking they had the whole picture when he was just keeping them in the dark. He was using them. Just like how he would use Yang and Ruby. When she gets back to Remnant, she'll smash his face in with that damned mug. As a start.

Summer paused as she registered her emotions again. Taking a slow, quiet breath, she calmed herself. It happened again. These spikes of aggression. It was uncomfortable. She hadn't been this angry in years. For it to suddenly come back like this was concerning. It had happened when she was talking to Creed. He asked her a simple question. Does she hunt demons? The answer should have been told with indifference. Yet, she felt like she was burning inside. To her, the Grimm were always demons. From start to finish, no grey area. But she thought she had come to terms with that. Where was all this emotion coming from?

Summer stared down at her hands. Balling them into fists, she remembered a time long passed. A time when her hands were smaller and her knuckles were stained red.

"Am I relapsing again?" She asked herself quietly.

"Be silent." A low, choppy voice ordered. She wasn't quiet enough, as the largest of her escort picked up on it.

Standing in the center of the compartment was a giant. Clad in black armor, white torn cloth draped over his torso. A weird-looking backpack with lit candles on it with a gold, spiked, half circle on top of it. White crosses were seen on his pauldrons, knees, and tabard. He held a gun that she had just recently learned was a plasma pistol. A part of her was dying to get a closer look at it. In his other hand was a mace of some kind. It was very unique. Instead of classic spikes, it had large broad golden wings, with a bronze cross in the center. The lower half was also interesting. Summer could not tell if it was a venting system or some kind of incense burner. Both weapons were shackled to his wrists. The large chains rattled as the chimera hit uneven terrain. Summer had to admit, while most would see it as unnecessary, it's a good way to ensure you never lose your weapon. What disturbed her most was the grinning white skull helmet he wore. It's unsettling when you see the face of death staring at you with glowing red eyes.

If Strang was intense, this guy was downright terrifying. When she encountered the three Astartes yesterday she thought they were robots. She drew this conclusion from the obscene amount of damage they took before they went down. The second kill took over thirteen deep gashes before she cut off his arm and later his head. She was too focused on the last one to identify the corpse as a corpse and not a pile of machine bits.

She only found out that they were human when she saw the leader with the breathing apparatus. Creed called him a Marshal. Again, Summer had no idea how high that was from a military standpoint, but she assumed it was pretty high.

She wanted to ask for this one's name, but Elaine never gave her the chance. Practically forbidding her from talking to him. It was fair, guys of this stature are intimidating to most people. As shown by everyone making way for him to pass when he walked up to their chimera. Even Strang was more polite than usual when talking to him. She overheard a few words. This one was a chaplain. Whatever that was.

She knew one thing. He was here because of her. Everyone was convinced that she was dangerous, so they brought in something just as dangerous as insurance. Which made sense. The threat of violence acts as a deterrent. A concept Ozpin absolutely despised. Having gotten him into constant debates with James and Raven. It was the only thing the two polar opposites in ethics agreed on.

Still, the presence of the chaplain made everyone nervous. He was big. Not as big as those chubby ones back at the field, but she was sure he did not need the extra bulk. He had been silent the entire trip, barely even moving as everyone else was jostled around. Those orders to be quiet were the first words she heard him say.

Summer glanced around. One or two of the squad glanced back. Tarn and most of the others did their own thing. Not wanting to upset the chaplain. Some silently prayed. That left her wondering about prayers in general. All her life she viewed religion as futile. The Brothers did not answer the prayers of those who worshiped them. It made her wonder if they could listen at all. Even if they did it was pointless as they would not come back. The Brothers had left, so it always annoyed her that the priests still prayed despite knowing this. All they did was stroke their 'godly' egos.

This felt different. Because now she wasn't dealing with religion about the Brothers. This was something completely different. She knew he was real, she'd seen it personally. And the light had engrained that certainty into her. It made her wonder how he did things. Did he genuinely listen to their prayers? How does he judge those who do? Why did he choose her?

In the night, she watched Celestine from a distance as she led a grand funeral. The pyres they lit burned for hours. The mass prayer session left her wondering how the religion gained such traction. The very notion that the Emperor listened lifted her spirits slightly. The chance that their spirits were guided to a safe place instead of that hell was a nice one. Just the fact that there was a chance it could happen made all the difference. It wasn't enough to get Summer to pray herself. She believed in providing results, not asking for divine intervention. Ironic as that was.

A heavy bump knocked her from her musings and directed her attention to the seat in front of her. Elaine sat directly opposite her, fixing her with a contemptuous stare. Now she had a cap on her head that matched her coat like Strang's. On her lap was a bolt pistol as it was called. Another weapon she would love to get a closer look at. The bullets alone looked fascinating. Her hand was firmly around the grip. Making it clear she was ready for the huntress to make a move.

Summer felt that she should be the one glaring. She saved Elaine and every Shock Trooper here. In return, she was held at gunpoint and threatened to be executed. However, knowing what she knew now of the Imperium's policies on people who don't fit in their class of norms, she is happy they didn't just try to gun her down from the start. She still wasn't entirely sure what a psyker was. By the way they described it, it sounded like some kind of wizard. So, they don't like magic. That was something to remember. Tarn and Elaine did not paint them in a flattering light. With that, it made sense they would be weary of her.

In the end, Summer did not begrudge her for the betrayal. She was doing her job. Keeping her troops safe from a potential threat. Summer understood that logic all too well. When she was at Beacon, she would draw up defense plans for villages. What type of layout worked best against certain types of Grimm. What type of weaponry was the best choice while being cost effective. Also taking probability into account. What type of Grimm was the most common for that specific region. It had been her goal to make Remnant better this way. Help people, protect people, help them protect themselves. Elaine's approach was slightly paranoid by comparison. Then again, how would she know? She's never been in a real war before.

Summer gave Elaine a warm smile and in response, the cadet's glare sharpened. The pistol also shifted on her lap. Summer felt like giggling at that. This kinda reminded her of her first mission. Elaine took the role of Raven, who looked for any excuse to try and denounce Summer's appointment as the leader. Or in this case, shoot her. Tarn was a likable jokester. Now all she needed was a lazy bird and it would almost be a complete recreation of her first time leading a team.

The contempt was where it ended in regards to Raven, in terms of personality she more resembled Glynda. Cold exterior, while caring about those under her. Based on her job description she was not required to care, yet Summer saw it yesterday, her shouldering Tarn. It was simple and that was enough for Summer.

As for the wider situation, Summer's head was spinning. This world was called Cadia, a fortress world. Which sounded crazy to her. An entire world turned into a military base. Remnant could not even understand the concept of unity. Despite what Ozpin had done for them during the Great War, division was still everywhere. This planet stood unified and strong for ten thousand years. Tarn admitted that they did have help, but when you're fighting demons no one is too prideful to complain.

It was relieving to finally have some context, even a little. That massive storm in the sky was called The Eye of Terror, a fitting name given what she's been told. A rip in reality where the hell on the other side, or the Warp, also a fitting name, is bleeding into the real world. Cadia was a fortress world by necessity. Acting as a gatekeeper to the only reliable way in and out of the Eye.

That explained why they were fighting, but the enemy was still mostly a mystery to her. But she understood the basics. When Horus lost to the Emperor his armies ran into the Eye to hide. Now they wanted revenge.

Creed said they wanted to unleash hell. She hated the thought that he was being literal. The Despoiler, whoever that is, must be an absolute monster to even consider doing something like that. All the more reason to fight. Still, she hoped he was being metaphorical.

The chimera decelerated abruptly, forcing the chaplain to shift his footing. Summer turned to the back hatch, waiting for it to open. If they stopped, it means they arrived or something was in the way. Glancing to her right, she checked her gear. Secured to the wall. She wanted to grab her weapons, but she felt the chaplain's glare on her. So, she waited.

Elaine stood and walked past the armored warrior and stood at the hatch. With a hiss, the hatch opened. In unison, the Cadians all stood, retrieved their weapons, and marched out. Elaine folded her arms behind her back and addressed the huntress. "Follow me. We've arrived."

Summer stood and pulled her rifle off the wall. Sliding the strap over her shoulder she made for the hatch. Stepping down the boarding ramp she matched Elaine step for step. Loud thuds echoed behind her, the reminder of a possible executioner.

Stepping out she took in the vast desert landscape dotted with small mountains and butts. There were hundreds of transports all around. Every single one unloading troops. Above she saw the Valkyrie gunships flying overhead. She idly wondered what Atlas would do if they had access to that kind of hardware. Then something else entered her field of vision.

"Woah." She muttered as she stared at the cluster of black metal spires.

The cadet-commissar turned to Summer not breaking stride. "The Cadian Pylons."

Summer stared at the spikes. Their surface is made from smooth black metal. "We have to protect these?"

"Correct."

"What do they do?"

"It is the belief of the Mechanicus that these spires of unknown origin repel the Eye of Terror."

Summer watched the closest metal pylon, focusing on its smooth surface. She felt it. The sense of a calming pressure. It was subtle, pressing against her aura like a cool breeze. Looking up at the storm, she saw the shapes in the colors. Spiked whips, knarled hooks, and clawed hands. All aggressively lashing out, attempting to push closer, to find something to hurt, maim and kill. It was faint, just barely visible to her now-enhanced eyes. A transparent ripple effect, a constant pushing outward against the storm. Despite the subtlety of it, there was a solidity that the storm could not overpower. Each ripple pushed the raging tides back.

Elaine slapped Summer's shoulder, making her yelp in surprise, the troops ignored it. To them, it was just a commissar doing her duty. The chaplain said nothing but tightened his grip on his crozius.

"Stop that." Snapped Elaine.

"Huh? What did I do?" Summer stuttered.

"You were staring at the Eye."

"Is that bad?"

Elaine looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "Extremely. Staring at a Warp Storm is incredibly dangerous. It exposes you to the whispers of daemons, cutting away at your sanity. The effects are especially harsh on psykers."

Summer glanced up again, all she saw were the colors, shapes, and patterns. She did not hear any voices or feel any form of influence. There was nothing beyond what she saw.

"I don't hear anything." Summer confessed.

"Consider yourself lucky. If you did..."

"I would slay you." Elaine flinched at the chaplain's voice.

Summer glanced back at the armored warrior and regarded him. His threats were genuine. It did not bother her too much. She had no intention of setting him off. But if she did, she was not too worried about fighting him. She suspected that he was faster than all that armor implied, even so, she still doubted he could keep up with her. Not that she wanted to fight. They were on the same team.

---

Elaine mentally chastised herself for her moment of weakness. A commissar should never show fear. They were meant to be an exemplar of the Imperium. Thank the Emperor, Strang was not here to see that. He would fail her on the spot. That could not happen, not after everything she had to go through in the schola.

Still, she was in quite a predicament. First is the danger of Summer. Her combat ability was downright frightening. Elaine did not doubt her swordsmanship, but if put against the daemonhunter, she would be torn apart. Not a comforting thought. Then there was the leverage the woman had over Elaine. This aura that protected her body. What Elaine could deduce was that it was a psychic barrier of sorts. Maintained by the spirit of the one protected. Witchery. But she had to admit, it was less horrid than what she had witnessed throughout the siege. In fact, she would even call it mild by comparison. It was not a perfect defense. Mainly defending against physical trauma to the body. While being vulnerable to the natural attributes of the world. Heat. Cold. Asphyxiation. Poison. Electrical discharge. Lung collapse. Sensory overload. Not to mention, other psychic attacks, these semblances as she calls them. Aura only offers protection against those that deal in the physical. All at the cost of increasing fatigue as you take damage.

As good as that sounded, the problem lies in the fact that it is a psychic ability. If Strang found out, Elaine would be executed on the spot, along with the entire squad. Elaine could not get rid of the woman because of her overwhelming advantage with her powers. Her physical strength was far above Elaine's, same for her speed. The huntress would land five strikes before Elaine could draw her saber.

Even if Elaine, Strang, and Ghadi wanted to get rid of her, they couldn't. Not with Lord Creed's orders in place. It was also a warning if Elaine read the situation correctly. The Living Saint was very insistent that the woman live. Celestine would have killed Strang and probably Elaine too if they executed Summer. Lord Creed saved them from the Saint's wrath.

Why this woman warranted such protection was beyond her. It made no sense. She was a psyker, an unclean being cursed by the taint of the Warp. To be utilized by the Imperium or be purged. Psykers were tools and weapons at best, and a cancer at worst. Which was she? Judging by the Saint's words alone and from what she had seen for herself, this woman must be some specialized daemonhunter.

In the end, all they could do was take precautions. Elaine expected the woman to be haughtier or mocking after such a development. Gloating over the fact that even the Astartes could not harm her without justification. She displayed none of that. Instead, she was the opposite. Quiet. Polite. Curious. Showing respect even as she bore the brunt of the regiment's contempt. Even under the chaplain's scrutiny, her attitude did not change. This calm demeanor even under such pressure was impressive.

"Cadet-Commissar Backwell." The Colonel called in the distance.

Strang and Ghadi calmly marched toward her beside a Master of Ordinance, if his uniform was anything to go by. The vox relay on his back was a clear sign. With two Kasrkin at Ghadi's sides.

"Commissar Strang. Colonel Ghadi." She and the rest of the squad greeted them with the sign of the aquila.

The three officers regarded the chaplain.

"Greetings, my Lord," Ghadi said to the Templar. "I apologize for the cramped transportation. Your fellow Astartes should arrive soon."

"It is of no issue, Colonel." The Space Marine said respectively. "I am where I need to be, as ordered by my Marshal."

"Yes. Where you need to be." The Colonel said dryly, glancing at Summer. "Can we leave our new 'battle-psyker' in your hands' chaplain? The tactical briefing is slightly above her current rank I believe."

If that was an insult, the huntress took no notice. He did not trust her, which made sense. Lord Creed shoved her into the regiment. Ghadi wanted nothing more than to get rid of her.

"You need not worry. I will stand sentinel while you prepare."

The Colonel nodded and turned to the Master of Ordinance. Strang addressed Elaine. "You stay with her too. We're leaving these two with you." He gestured to the Kasrkin. One was armed with a plasma gun, the other with a multimelta. Elaine was not confident the multimelta would have a good chance of hitting the huntress, but having more guns would never hurt. Given what she knew of aura now, heat-based weapons would be able to damage her. In that regard, the multimelta would be useful as a warning.

"Yes, sir," Elaine saluted.

Strang gave a nod and walked away. Leaving the Kasrkin at Elaine's directive. Both said nothing and held their weapons at the ready.

"Elaine?" Summer called.

"Yes?"

"The Colonel. He's in charge, right?" Elaine's eyes narrowed at the question.

"He is the commanding officer of this regiment."

"Then why did he call the chaplain, Lord?" Summer asked, pointing over her shoulder at the Space Marine.

Elaine wanted to bite her tongue. Over and over again, Elaine thought Summer was fishing for information on the guard to tear them down. The nice attitude was just her playing the long game. But no, over and over again, it was an innocent question over an innocent question. She really did nothing about the Imperium?

With a quiet sigh, she answered. "Because he is an Astartes and Astartes are not beholden to the orders of Imperial Guard unless dictated by their own or those of higher authority."

The Shock Troopers and Kasrkin watched the exchange in confusion. This was common knowledge for them. Cadians had dealt with their fair share of Astartes, friend and foe alike.

"So, no one here can tell him what to do. Can he give you guys orders if he wants?" The huntress asked again.

The chaplain's clipped voice answered. "I can, should the need arise."

Some of the squad flinched at the sudden interjection of the Space Marine. He was still as a statue; this made the sudden response surprising.

"Do you have any other questions?" The templar asked in an amiable tone.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me." Summer remarked.

"I implied no such thing." He answered flatly.

"But on the way here you told me to be quiet." She objected.

"Then you misunderstood me. I demanded your silence for the Cadians' sake." He pointed his crozius to the squad. "They were in the middle of prayer."

"You sounded angry. Was that because I talked while they were praying?" Summer sounded perplexed like the notion was unimportant.

"Yes. Prayers to the Immortal Emperor are not to be disrupted. To do so is disrespectful, and to allow it to happen is to falter in your conviction." His skull helm turned to the squad as he finished speaking. Elaine was not sure if they were being chastised for allowing Summer to speak during prayer, for praising them for not stopping when she was mumbling on the ride here.

"You were louder than me though." Elaine blinked. What was happening? Was she trying to argue with an Astartes?

"You are a psyker. Between you and I, they are far warier of your whispering than my words." The warrior answered plainly.

Summer looked dejected at that. It kept happening whenever it was brought up that they feared her. The hate she handled with poise, but for some reason being feared upset her. How strange.

"You really care about them, umm..." She stammered.

"You wish to speak. So, speak." He encouraged, which was out of place for an Astartes, they were usually very forceful.

"Sorry." Summer said. "It's just I don't know your name."

"I am Lothar Roth. Chaplain of the Black Templars."

"I'm Summer Rose. Huntress of Remnant."

"I know of you. The Holy Lady revealed your name to me and my brothers."

"Celestine told you about me?" Summer looked nervous; the Living Saint knew something about her. "What did she say?"

Lothar approached her and disabled his grill speaker. Elaine did not hear what he said to her but whatever it was made her look very nervous.

"She told you that?"

"Indeed."

"You don't think it sounds ridiculous? For something like that to happen to someone who's never heard of the Emperor before?" The huntress said in a shy manner. Tapping her index fingers together.

"Not at all. Who am I to judge the actions of the God-Emperor or doubt the word of His Chosen?"

Elaine could see the squad glancing in the huntress' direction, the moment He on Terra was mentioned. The Templar knew something about this woman.

"You're not angry that I don't think the same way? I find that most incredibly religious people tend to dislike those who don't really follow their belief system. They used to preach my ears off when I was little. It was so annoying."

The cadet-commissar frowned; she would shoot this woman for such talk if she wasn't aware of the woman's background.

"Umm... No offense. It wasn't a good experience for me." Summer apologized.

"I take no offense with your words. Whatever false faith you followed must not have had much traction then." He said plainly.

Summer smiled. Which confused Elaine. Why was Summer happy at the failure of her home's faith? A heretical faith it may be, but Elaine had the common sense to know that there should be just a small bit of pride in what your people believe.

"I never followed it. They had nothing but comforting delusions." Summer's eyes narrowed for a moment. "I wasn't looking for comfort at the time."

A distorted sound rumbles came from the Space Marine. Sounding like a snarl or a growl. It took Elaine a moment to realize he just chuckled. "I am starting to understand why the Saint speaks so highly of you."

A large black Rhino transport rolled up in the distance. It took a place among the chimeras. From its open hatch emerged five armored figures. All save one, clad in black armor.

Elaine spotted them on approach, each one was different. Some were more decorated, others simply had different weapons. One was clad in white armor. Another carried a banner.

The huntress and chaplain took notice of them too. "Hail, Chaplain." Said the Astartes holding up the banner.

"You're late, Mercer." Lothar casually, though if anyone could see under the skull helm, they would see him smiling.

"Sorry about that. We had trouble digging our Rhino from the rubble at Kasr Kraf. Took us nearly three hours." Said one with red trimming on his pauldrons, a cape, a lantern chained to his belt, a stylized cross atop his power pack, a combi weapon, and a power axe.

"And yet you arrive only minutes after I do?" Lothar asked.

"Hardly our fault if the Guard has slow transports. Maybe they have too many safety features?" The Templar joked.

"It's called limiting casualties, Meller." Said the marine in white. "Unlike our zeal, the supplies we have available are stretched thin. We cannot tend to soldiers sustaining injuries because of careless pilots. The Emperor does not forgive wasting resources and lives."

The Templar known as Meller laughed. "Are you sure you're an apothecary, Lyron? It sounds like you'd rather be Lothar's newest apprentice."

"Enough." Said Lothar, he turned to Summer. "Since you are so interested in learning my name, I shall introduce my brothers."

Elaine was confused. Why was the Chaplain being so amicable toward the woman? The Templars should be completely hostile in their dealing with her. Their chapter was known for their abhorrent view of the witch. She watched wide-eyed as the marines were introduced one by one.

Lother gestured to the one with the banner. He wore a helmet with an arch-shaped vox grill, and four cables extending out of the sides. His weapon was a combi-melta. The banner he carried had a black blade on it. Lightning trailed behind it as it took a position of a downward swipe, above what looked to be a mass of bones. "This is Brother Mercer. Standard Bearer of Squad Roth."

Mercer stood tall and proud. Acting as if the standard he carried was an extension of himself. He gave a slow nod but said nothing.

Lothar pointed his maul to the next in line. This one was more decorated than the others. Chains locked around his pauldrons. An aquila medallion dangling around his neck. His tabard was covered in holy scripture. White wax crosses dotted his armor, with red papyrus stating past deeds and promises of events to come. Elaine knew what purity seals were and their value to Astartes. Strang often joked that if he could implement them into the regiment, it would be a huge boost to morale.

The marine's helm was the most unique, barring the chaplain's skull helm. Across the face of the helm was a gold cross, the red eye lenses popped out against the bright gold. He held a power sword in one hand, and a red bolter in the other. "Brother Thuran of the Sword Brethren. Oldest among us."

It was impossible to tell what the marine thought of the huntress. He said nothing and did not move.

Lothar did not mind as he moved on to the next one. This one was slightly different. His armor was the same as most Black Templars, Elaine had seen, but he carried two scimitars. One chained to his right hand, and the other in a scabbard belted around his waist. He had no ranged weapon. "Brother Kadan. The youngest of us. Were it not for the loss of our fleet, he would be elevated to the ranks of the Sword Brethren."

Kadan did not keep his silence like the rest of his brothers. He stared down at Summer and echoed a choppy sound that nearly passed as a scoff. "This is the one who bested three Astartes? They must not have been much."

"Well to be fair, I wasn't alone," Summer replied, glancing at Elaine and then at Tarn.

Kadan did the same but said nothing more.

Lothar then moved to the marine in white armor, he still had the same cross on his shoulder as the others. One of his eye lenses resembled a monocle. Across his belt was an assortment of vials. At his side was a red chainsword and bolt pistol. Clamped to his left wrist was a device with a digital screen, a large drill, a saw, and a needle. "This is Brother Lyron. Our apothecary."

"Apothecary?" Summer asked, not having heard the term before.

Lyron spoke up. "It is my duty to ensure my brothers' well-being and our chapter's survival. I monitor their health and administer aid when it is needed."

"You're a doctor?"

"I am not familiar with that term," Lyron admitted.

"Sorry. Umm. A healer?" Summer corrected. She did not know the military word for doctor.

"In a broad sense, yes. At face value, I am a medicae."

Elaine remembered Summer's reference to doctors on her home planet. That many used psychic abilities to heal the wounded. However, many more did not. She expressed praise to both for the act of healing regardless of means. She enjoyed knowing there were people dedicated to the well-being of others.

Lothar then moved to the last Templar. The one who joked earlier. "Brother Meller also of the Sword Brethren."

Meller made what barely counted as a chuckling sound. "An honor, my Lady." He planted the head of his axe in the sand at his feet.

"Nice to meet all of you." Summer said.

Elaine was stuck. Five Astartes. Five. Normally she would be happy about having five of the Emperor's Knights here to help them watch this woman. Given the conversation, she just heard. It did not sound like they were here to keep her under guard. Didn't Creed get the Marshal to get these Templars as added muscle in case she was an enemy? What did the Saint tell them to cause such a shift from their usual demeanor?

"Chaplain." Said Kadan.

"Speak, Brother." Prompted Lothar.

"I would like to test our charge." The marine requested.

"In what regard?"

Kadan stepped from the line and spectated himself from the group. Once he was far enough away, he faced Summer her pointed his blade at her. "I wish to see for myself how you were able to best those heretics."

Elaine balked. He was challenging Summer to a duel.

"Kadan." Lothar began but stopped when Summer walked up to the woman at Tarns's side, unslung her rifle, and held it out to her. "Hold this, please."

Elaine watched the huntress in shock. "You can't be serious." She said to which Summer gave her a smile. Holy Throne she was serious.

The woman took the long-las and watched as Summer pulled out her own power sword. As the huntress walked away, the woman, Alexa Thade asked. "Is this really happening?"

"I ain't hallucinating. Are you?" Tarn joked. All the squad members glanced at each other. The Kasrkin too.

"If I was, the commissar would have shot me by now." Alexa joked back.

"Brother," Thuran called to Kadan. "This is unnecessary."

"I agree." Said, Mercer. "The enemy could strike at any given time. You shouldn't waste your strength on something so frivolous."

"I say let him," Meller added his two thrones. "I'd like to see what skills the woman has."

"I have no objection so long as the power fields stay deactivated," Lyron spoke his piece. "If Kadan gets injured, he can recover on his own."

"Like I ever needed your ministrations before, Lyron." Kadan laughed.

Lothar looked to his brothers. Then to Summer as she stood at the ready against the Initiate. He then walked up to Kadan's side and whispered something. Elaine saw the blade lower slightly. The younger marine shook his head and raised his blade once again.

The Chaplain then walked over to Summer. "Brother Kadan formally challenges you. Do you accept, Summer Rose the Huntress?"

Summer didn't hesitate, she didn't look nervous at all. On her face was an excited smile. "I accept."

Lothar said nothing more as he walked over to Mercer's side. "Stand ready!"

Kadan held his sword upright in both hands. A swordsman's salute. Summer mimicked his actions.

For the Cadian soldiers who passed by, none could resist catching a glance at the rare sight of a mortal and one of the Emperor's Angels of Death squaring off in a duel.

Elaine didn't know how to deal with this. None of her training in the schola taught her how to handle such an unorthodox situation. Most of Strang's advice on dealing with Astartes was mostly to be respectful but firm in your stance and to back off when it was clear they were done listening to you.

Lothar raised his maul and Kadan pointed his blade at Summer horizontally. Summer held her blade upright with both hands. Both had bent knees, ready to attack.

"First strike decides the victor!" The Chaplain dropped his mace and the two charged each other.

---

Lothar watched as the combatants clashed at the moment when his crozius was lowered. The huntress was fast, he would admit. In fact, she covered the most ground in the initial clash. Kadan was also taken off guard, Lothar spotted a moment's hesitation in his reaction. It was understandable. None of them had met a mortal with such speed before. If she could even be counted as a mortal anymore.

Summer went in with a horizontal slash. Kadan caught it with the hand guard of his weapon. Summer did not attempt a power struggle, knowing that Kadan was stronger, so she backed off quickly.

Kadan did not waste the opportunity, he closed the distance and began his assault. Summer ducked and redirected his strikes with quick parries. Kadan was larger by far and his weapon had the superior reach. She never attempted to outright block him.

"She specializes in evasion," Thuran observed, as Summer backflipped away, barely avoiding Kadan's strikes. "Reminds me of the Eldar."

"That does not surprise me," Lyron stated. "She has no armor; a clash of raw might would put her at a disadvantage. She'd break herself fighting that way."

Summer vaulted over Kadan, her deactivated blade just missing his helmet. The Templar spun around to catch her before she landed. But her form dissipated into a mass of white, and the blade passed through it effortlessly. The Templars and the Kasrkin were surprised by this. But the Astartes gave no sign of it, the Kasrkin almost raised their weapons, suspecting the woman was casting some vile sorcery.

The cloud darted away from the knight and reformed into Summer, who stood ready to charge once again. Kadan was put on the back foot. Which was impressive even with the aid of this strange sorcery. He was the best swordsman in the entire Fighting Company, barring Marshal Amalrich himself.

"What was that?" Lyron asked.

"Some form of sorcery," Lothar said, turning to the cadet-commissar he asked. "Have you seen her do this before?"

"Yes." The woman said. "She calls it her semblance. A psychic ability that is unique to her. She breaks down her physical form into the mass you just saw. Using it for avoiding strikes and strong bursts of speed."

"Is this how she defeated the traitors?" Thuran asked, not taking his eyes off the duel. None of his brothers did.

"Yes, my Lord. She used it to outmaneuver them so she could quickly close the gap and critically injure the foe."

Summer's white mass shot around Kadan. As she reformed, her blade was already lunging for the knight's rear knee joint. Kadan pivoted, barely avoiding the strike, and failing to deliver a counterstrike of his own as she jumped away.

"As you can see it is quite effective." The mortal said.

"Especially against an unprepared enemy," Meller concluded, all humor lost on him. He was completely focused on the fight.

"You have spent the most time with her out of everyone here, yes?" Lothar asked.

"I have."

"Do you know anything about where she came from?"

The woman straightened herself. "Her homeworld is called Remnant. I am not certain what class it falls under, but I am certain it is a civilized world."

"Is this form of witchery common there?" Lothar asked as he watched Kadan's blade pass harmlessly through the white cloud.

"From what she told me. Yes. Every human on Remnant has some form of ability that is unique to them. Though most never awaken their powers."

"How come?" Asked Lyron, as he inspected his narthecium. "If they all have these powers, why do they not use them? Must there be some bargain? Some sort of sacrifice?"

"No, not from what she's told me. It does not involve any form of dark ritual or pact with foul entities. It is rather practical. Through rigorous training, they hone their spirits and discover their abilities on their own. Not everyone is willing to go through the level of training required, which is why only huntresses like her have them."

"A good thing," Thuran commented. "A planet full of rogue psykers is a time bomb."

"What do you mean by huntress? She uses that title; you imply that it isn't her's alone." Lothar turned away from the fight for a moment.

The woman froze up for a moment. "I am not sure. I thought she was an assassin when I first saw her. Later I came to the same conclusion as Lord Creed. A daemonhunter. I haven't asked her any question on that topic."

Lothar returned his gaze to the clash. He would need to ask himself.

Kadan attacked with a diagonal uppercut. Summer's body was not fully dissipated, so the blade connected. Crashing into her torso and sending her flying. Her body flashed white from the impact. Everyone watched as her body rolled across the sand. Then she stood up without damage.

"Interesting," Lyron commented. "Some sort of barrier."

Summer performed a salute with her weapon, and Kadan returned the gesture. Both combatants relaxed in their posture.

Kadan gave a hearty laugh. "I can see why the humans are so fearful of you."

Summer frowned for a second before affirming his compliment. "You're better than the three I ran into yesterday. They were reckless and aggressive, not like you. Your movements were aggressive, but also precise and controlled."

"You fight well, but I noticed your movements were forced. You committed all your efforts to individual strikes. You tend to back away when I strike back." Kadan walked up to her.

"I'm used to fighting things that are bigger than me. That means they tend to be stronger most of the time. And I'm not the best with a sword. I prefer a spear."

"You say this, but you fought well. I could see it in your approach. You've fought blade to blade before." Lothar grinned beneath his death mask. Twas a rare day indeed that brash and prideful Kadan would give praise to a mortal so enthusiastically.

Summer sheathed her power sword in the scabbard on her belt. "My old partner was a swordswoman. She would constantly challenge me to sparring matches. Restraint wasn't something she believed in."

"Neither do we," Kadan concluded walking back to his fellow Astartes.

"Satisfied?" Asked Thuran.

"I am now, Old Man." Kadan chuckled. A gesture the elder marine echoed.

"I'm not that old."

"What was that barrier?" Lothar asked the commissar woman.

"She calls it aura. In her own words, it is a barrier created by bearing her soul outwards to shield her body from physical harm and help heal her injuries."

"Is this also a trait unique to her or is it common on her home planet?" Lyron inquired, always the curious one. Even when it comes to enemies he should be crushing.

"It is the most common psyker trait they have. All of their proficient warriors have it." The commissar explained as the Lyron turned to her.

"What are the levels of durability? I overheard that she withstood a bolter round." The apothecary was insistent with his questions.

Summer walked up to the Cadian woman holding her rifle. The Guardswoman returned it with no issue.

Summer answered for the commissar "There is no real metric for measuring that. Each person's aura is different. Some are durable but get drained by the use of their abilities. Others are fragile but can sustain their other abilities much better. Aura can grow in power as you develop, but each person has different rates. If overwhelmed, severe mental fatigue falls on the user. As for my durability, it improved drastically recently."

Lothar nodded at that. It aligned with what the Saint had told him. A blessing from the most Holy God-Emperor.

"That about sums it up." Summer said. "Any other questions?"

"If the disruption fields on Kadan's blade had been active would your aura have been able to withstand it?" Asked Lyron.

Summer stammered. "Umm... I don't know and I don't want to test that theory."

"I believe my Brothers are content with what they know," Lothar concluded, looking at the apothecary. "It was a fine duel."

"I haven't done something like that in years, it was fun."

"Fun?" Kadan asked. Lothar understood why. He had not heard the term before. Perhaps he had heard it in his time before his induction into the Templars. If he had, it has been long forgotten.

Summer gave them a curious glance. "Yeah. You know. Fun. I enjoyed the fight. That's fun."

Lothar process what she was implying. "I understand. You take personal enjoyment in battle. That is the trait of a warrior."

"That's not the only thing I enjoy."

"But you do not deny my statement?"

"Not at all. I'm friendly, but I do enjoy a good fight. My mother said it's a family trait. No matter our temperament, we were born to fight." Summer said proudly.

None of the humans saw this, but under their helmets, the Templars were smiling. Even old Thuran. They respected those who knew their purpose. A born warrior. That was something worthy of respect.

---

Off on a distant hill. Concealed by a Night Shroud, two glowing green eyes watched the interaction with interest. A human psyker dueling an Astartes. And a Black Templar at that. Now that was something to consider for his galleries. He knew where she came from, that world had much to offer, sadly he ran short on time during his last visit. With the tolling of that accursed bell. He would keep an eye on her, but for now, he had an appointment with the Archmagos.

---

The Cadian star was setting. Bathing the desert landscape in an orange light that blended with the unnatural colors of the Eye. Sometimes making the sands look like ice or moss. Lothar and his brothers stood sentinel as the winds churned the sands and pelted their armor with their granules. Watching their charge perform a self-imposed duty.

The white-cloaked woman known as Summer Rose continued to dig alongside the Cadians, since the mapping for the trenches had been decided close to five hours ago. She wanted to assist the Guardsmen despite their protests. That battle psykers are not meant to perform menial tasks such as this, she provided aid regardless. Grabbing a shovel, she became the trailblazer for the company the squad was assigned to. Lothar noted more than a few outsiders were tempted to threaten her. More than once he picked up the word 'freak' during their conversations. His grip on his crozius tightened each time.

He knew they hated her. The ignorant fools. They wanted her gone. All of them. But they could do nothing as long as he and his brothers were present. If they did try anything, the Marshal would hear of it. And if that happened this whole regiment would suffer, Creed's orders be damned. To them, their Marshal's orders held more meaning than that of the Lord Castellan. Their orders were given at the request of the Living Saint herself.

He thought back to the previous day. Just after the human commander gave his request to Marshal Amalrich.

---

"Marshal." Came the voice of the Blessed Lady.

Amalrich faced the Saint, his blade tip set on the stone. Lothar stood next to him. Both maintained respectful silence, indicating to the Saint to speak. "I have a request."

"What would you ask of me, my Lady?"

Celestine looked back to the Kasrkin escorting the white-cloaked woman away. The altercation they had witnessed was bizarre. The Holy Saint defending a witch. If he had not seen it with his own eyes, he would correct any who told him using his mace.

"Lord Creed has requested a squad of your Knights to guard the woman, yes?" The Saint's tone was low, almost conspiratorial.

"That he has," Amalrich confirmed. "Why does this trouble you so? However unusual, she is just one witch."

"She is not a witch, Marshal." The Saint said firmly.

Lothar wanted to say something, he felt like this might not end well. Blessed by the Emperor she may be, but she still has no authority over His Knights. But he had no words at the time.

"Then may I ask? What is she? Why does she warrant such protection?" Amalrich probed.

"I found her, lost in the tides of the Empyrean." She said, just loud enough for their enhanced hearing to pick up. "The light of her soul called me to her. It was His Light."

Lothar paused. As did his Marshal, the eyes above his rebreather going wide. "What are you saying Holy Saint?" His voice was quieter too. Amalrich was no fool. If the Saint was hesitant for this knowledge to be spread, then she had good reason. For a Chosen of the Emperor only dealt in truths. If she was found in the tides of the Warp, did she even count as human?

"She is blessed, Marshal. Anointed by the Master of Mankind himself." Celestine proclaimed in a low voice that betrayed her excitement.

"You are certain of this? We have had many false prophets throughout the millennia." Marius questioned, and Lothar did not blame him. Many had laid claim to such accolades. Most high in the ranks of the Ecclesiarchy. The infamous Siege of Vraks was just one such example.

"Did you not hear her Sir Knight? She preaches nothing. Her heart is open to us. And I know you felt too."

"What was it that I felt?" Amalrich asked, challenging the Saint's claim.

Celestine had a proud smile on her face as she spoke. "The rage that filled your thoughts at the mention of daemons. Pure and righteous hatred radiated off of her like the heat of a star. You felt it too. As did the Cadians."

"Aye. I thought nothing of it at the time. Just another foul witch." Amalrich looked passed the Saint, catching a last glimpse of pure white, before it vanished in the see of guard uniforms. "But for a moment, when it was over, a sense of calm washed over me. Like everything was made right."

"Such wrath cannot be imitated by a plant. Such fury flows through your soul as it does mine. Please, Marshal, listen to my request."

Lothar listened carefully. He had felt it too. The hate. That most beautiful of emotions. The purist emotion that humanity can conjure within its soul. It felt alarming at first, but just before it faded, he felt a sense of understanding. There was a pain that fueled it. The pain of being wronged coupled with the righteous desire for vengeance.

Marius Amalrich remained silent for a quarter of a minute before saying his piece. "Very well. What is your request concerning the woman?"

"She is young, untested, restrained, and vulnerable. Should the Great Enemy learn of her, I fear not only for her, but all those she would never reach. The Imperium needs souls like her. I ask that whomever you delegate to guard her, must protect her. No matter how this war ends, she must survive. The enemy can never have her."

Such conviction from The Hand of The Emperor himself. Lothar was surprised. This woman held such importance to the Saint. What did she witness within the tides of the Warp?

"Lothar." His Marshal called.

"Yes, my Liege?" He replied.

"Call your squad," Amalrich ordered.

Lothar wasted no time in voxing his knights. Mercer, Thuran, Meller, Lyron, and Kadan lined up before the three of them.

"Chaplain, hear me." His Marshal said. "If what the Saint says is true, then we cannot afford to let the enemy know of what we discussed here. No one beyond your brothers is to know."

"Yes, my Liege," Lothar affirmed, as his squad arrived.

"Brothers." Amalrich addressed the gathered Templars. "You have been called to take an oath. Made to the Holy Saint. Kneel."

The gathered knights, all knelt before their Marshal. Lothar joined them. The Cadians caught short glances but kept to themselves. They knew better than to meddle with astartes business. Interrupting a space marine's ritual was a quick way to get killed.

"Astartes of the Black Templars." Celestine began. "Noble Sons of Rogal Dorn and Heirs of Sigismund. I ask you now to swear your lives to the defense of one of the Emperor's Chosen. I charge you with her life. I place my faith in your might to protect the anointed of our Lord. To you I give the burden of her survival. I trust in you to be her shield against the gathering storm. What say you?"

All the Knights spoke in unison. "By the blood of Rogal Dorn. We swear. Imperator Vult!"

---

Lothar recalls feeling proud at the time. Now here he stands, watching said individual digging like a distressed Ambull. The company was ahead of schedule at this point thanks to her. To Meller's amusement, the Cadians were struggling to keep pace with her. But they were not complaining about her anymore.

His armors inbuilt vox chimed. He blink clicked the activation rune on his visor display. "Lothar, do you read?" Called the voice of Marshal Amalrich.

"I hear you my Liege," Lothar answered, deactivation his armor's vocalizer, rendering him silent to all around him. All they would here was a static click from the vox.

"What have you to say of the woman? Any room for doubt brother?"

"That is still unclear. The woman has displayed forms of witchery. It reminds me of the Grey Knights."

"In what regard?"

"She is constantly protected by a barrier; it reminds me of what we witnessed when we last fought beside them."

"Have you questioned her on her arrival?" Lothar froze. He had, but the results were not forthcoming.

"She is still hesitant to relay such events to me."

"What is she doing now?"

"As of this moment, she is aiding the Cadians with their trenchwork," Lothar observed the spectacle as he spoke. Summer dug at a rate that even his transhuman physique would struggle to keep up with. Further back, the Cadians were laying down wooden board work and ferrocrete banks to solidify the sides of the trench. Their pace was quick, due to them having more members to add to the process. Since none of them could keep up with the huntress. She did not mind that she took the majority of the digging, she was content. They capitalized on her efforts. She was stronger than she looked. Another psychic power? He was told that librarians in other chapters use their powers to augment their strength and agility.

"I will admit it is impressive," He added as he walked along the fresh pit to keep tabs on her. His brothers monitored further back along the trench to ensure nothing was afoot. The enemy had many foul ploys they could enact to strike at them at a moment's notice.

"How so?"

"She's managed to dig a trench line for a full company of Guardsmen without aid. She's kept this pace for several hours. Meller has found this very amusing."

"I'm sure he has."

"I am beginning to understand the Saint's words."

"What have you gleamed, Brother?"

"Kadan challenged her to a duel. Under strict orders of restraint. She offered a greater challenge than he anticipated. While we watched I noticed some things. She is young. She views everything with the eyes of a child, everything is new to her. After the duel, she wanted to examine my pistol."

He heard Marius scoff and chuckle on the other end of the vox link. Lothar carried on.

"She is restrained. Not just in her current armaments. She stated she prefers a spear. But also, in her dedication to the fight. She fights safely, minimizing risk. She avoided direct clashes with Kadan. Backing away whenever a strike failed. Their blades would not touch for more than an eyeblink."

"Tactical," Amalrich commented. "But not strategic. It's a reactionary stance."

"She is eager to ask questions. If she were more forceful about it, I would mistake her for an inquisitor." Lothar chuckled. "A curious soul."

"I see I chose correctly. There is another matter I wish to inform you of."

"Is there a threat we should be wary of?" Lothar asked watching the sky. Scanning for anomalies.

"No. The Archenemy has not made his move yet. I merely wish to tell you that I shall be joining you on the field. Koreal of the Dark Angels has deemed it best to have the Sons of Dorn stationed at the largest entrance to the catacombs below."

"Will it be just us?' Lothar asked in reference to their last Fighting Company.

"No. Our brothers in the Imperial Fists will stand with us. A captain Tor Garradon leads them."

"When can we expect you?"

"Before the dawn. Perhaps I could question the woman myself."

Lothar caught his joke. "I will endeavor to spare you of that task, my Liege."

The vox crackled lightly as the Marshall bid his farewell. "Stay vigilant, Lothar." And the line went dead. Lothar turned his full attention to the trenchwork once again.

"This ain't turning out so bad. Bloody witch is useful after all." Commented one of the guardsman. A newcomer who was not a member of the initial squad of twelve that he accompanied on the way here.

"You're telling me. I thought psykers were only good for their unholy voodoo." Said another, lathering mortar between ferrocrete slabs. "But I'll say it. She ain't so bad. Saved Mecenzi's life."

A third scoffed. "Pff. You say that now but just wait. The second the fighting starts, she'll lose her shit, and boom, we pop a few new holes in her."

Lothar stared at the man. His crozius would cave the mortal's skull in before he could even raise his weapon.

"Don't be such a pessimist." Said the first. "Sure, this siege gas bled us. But we're still here ain't we? We've had our fair share of miracles since all this began. Creed. The Phalanx. By the Throne, we have the bloody Living Saint herself here. Half of us thought she was just a story. With all that's happened, who's to say this lady isn't a blessing in disguise."

Lothar took note of the phrase. "Blessing in disguise." He muttered looking to Summer as she carved up the earth.

The memory of the Saint came to mind. Vulnerable. Yes, that made sense. The woman was blessed. But not strong enough to withstand the vile nature of the fiends that lie beyond our reality. That would explain the protectiveness. Naive as she is, it only made sense she would be vulnerable to the Ruinous Powers. He would not allow that to happen.

---

Summer tossed the last pile of dirt to the side and leaned on her shovel. It was done. The entire trench network had been dug out. in her section at least. Looking back, she saw the Cadians solidifying the space she cleared out. The company was way ahead of schedule compared to the rest of the regiment. She was proud of her work.

"Are you finished?" Asked Lothar still standing at her side.

"Yup," Summer answered, hopping out of the hole. She glanced around. "Where's Elaine?"

"She is supervising the rest of your squad. I gave her my assurances that I would remain by your side until she returns."

"That's too bad. She has all my weapons. But at least we have some downtime, and she doesn't." She said in a cheeky manner.

Lothar did not move but gave a reply. "And what do you do with your 'downtime'?"

"Get something to eat usually. However, since everyone is expecting a fight, I think getting a good view of the area would be useful." Summer stared out to one of the nearby hills. It was a good distance away. Not too hard to find.

"Feel like going for a walk?" Summer asked, half expecting to be told that there was another task that needed to be done.

"Certainly." Said the Chaplain.

"May I accompany you?" Asked an approaching Mercer, still holding that oversized banner. Doesn't his arm ever hurt?

Lothar gave him a nod. And so they went, Summer turned to the Cadians and waved as she walked off. While most did not return the gesture. Some raised their open palms. That was good enough for her.

"You are a strange one," Mercer commented. "Despite their animosity, you treat them as if they are your kin. Why?"

"There's a saying that I like. Treat others how you would like to be treated. It's taught to children where I'm from. It's to teach empathy, respect, and encourage cooperation."

"Your world sounds very naive. Even if you show them that you mean no harm, many will still distrust you because of your abilities." Mercer chided.

"Can you blame them? No one here knows me, and they think I'm some kind of monster. Trust takes time to build. As for my abilities, they don't know those either."

"And despite these handicaps." Lothar cut in. "You are still willing to try?"

"Like I said. Trust takes time to build, and I feel that I can earn their trust if I just show them what I am." Summer said as she walked past another squad. They all made sure not to look at her.

"And just what are you?" Lothar asked.

"A huntress who wants to protect people." She answered without hesitation. As they walked on soldiers made way for them, Summer hoped it was out of fear for the giant warriors and not her.

"Is that all you are? A protector?" Mercer questioned.

Summer felt her smile drop for a moment, before reasserting itself. "That's the purpose of a huntress and why I wanted to become one."

"So, on your home world, you huntresses are the local defense force?"

"In a sense, yes and no. Also, it's huntsmen. Huntress is the term for females in the profession." She clarified.

"Then you are not part of a task force trained to protect your government and its people?"

"No. Huntsmen are not part of any military. They go where they want and help where they can." She frowned, making huntsmen into a military force would limit their ability to help the villages. The aristocrats of Atlas were already using those policies to their own advantage to the detriment of the people.

"That sounds highly ineffective," Lothar added. "Your world must truly be strange if it relies on such a flawed system for its defense."

"Oh? What's wrong with being free to go where you like and fight where you feel it's needed?"

"Before I answer that." The Chaplain said. "Could you give us some insight on your homeworld? How did these huntsmen come to be?"

"Sure." Summer said, the hill they were traveling to growing closer by the moment. Its height blocked out what remains of the sun's light. "Now bear with me. My history is not the best."

"Very well," Lothar replied.

"Alright, so roughly seventy years ago, Remnant saw the end of the biggest war it had ever seen. There were four kingdoms. Atlas, or Mantle at the time." She corrected herself with a grumble. "Mistral, Vacuo and Vale. It started when Mistral attacked Vale. Mantle and Vacuao got dragged in as the fighting got worse."

"Who was victorious?" Asked Mercer. He always enjoyed tales. It was why he opted to carry the banner; he carried their story with him.

"Vale and Vacuo. Though Vale had the biggest hand in the final battle. Thus, all of the kingdoms bowed to the King of Vale." Summer's last word came out sour, even though she did not mean for it to happen. She knew the King's true identity. But that wasn't important. And she didn't want to talk about Ozpin's little brotherhood right now.

"Am I correct in assuming that this king was the creator of the huntsmen?" The chaplain guessed. "After uniting your world by bringing these kingdoms under his rule?"

"Yes. It was his idea. However, he did not unite Remnant. The four kingdoms are still separate."

"What?" Asked Mercer sounding stunned. "Why not? Did you not say they all bowed to him?"

"Well, I did," Summer replied. "Is it so surprising that he didn't make any demands?"

Lothar cut in. "My brother is surprised. As am I. They all bent the knee. He could have ended the division there. Bringing forward an age of unity."

'He's not wrong.' Summer admitted to herself.

"I'm sure he had his reason. Historians often said he wanted to show them mercy and establish a desire for peace."

Both Astartes remained silent before Lother prompted her to continue.

"The four kingdoms met on an island called Vytal where they signed a treaty. The military of each nation was abolished with the exception of a home defense militia. The king set up schools in each kingdom to train warriors who would fight for the people and not against them."

"The huntsmen." Said Lothar.

"Yup. I trained at Beacon Academy in Vale. These are specialized schools for exceptional fighters. All of the teachers are veteran huntsmen."

"A wise decision. The new generation learns from the experience of their betters." Mercer commented.

"You say you became a huntress to protect others?" Lothar asked.

"Yes."

"Then who are you fighting?"

Summer almost tripped over a stone. Neither marine moved to aid her, as they began their climb up the hill. The Chaplain continued to question her.

"You have been at peace since the signing of the treaty. So, if you are not battling each other, then what threatens humanity that you need specialized schools to train warriors?"

Summer kept quiet for a moment. Anger sparked in her chest again. Should she tell them about that witch? Should she keep it a secret? Why bother hiding it? No, not yet.

"Our world is infested with monsters. Creatures of black skin and white bone exteriors that live for the sole purpose of destroying humanity. They take the forms of animals, mostly, and relentlessly hunt us down. The Great War started because of a dispute on how best to address their threat. We call them the Creatures of Grimm. Or just Grimm."

"What sort of abominations are these creatures?" Mercer asked, sneering under his helm. "Xenos or some form of daemon?"

Again, Summer did not answer right away. She remembers contemplating this in the past. Though whenever she brought it up, she was shot down. The Grimm are a punishment sent by the Brothers, said the priests. The Grimm are a natural phenomenon, we just don't understand them, said the scientists. They have always been there. Since she learned the truth about the Gods from Ozpin it only solidified her belief. When Ozpin tried to convince her otherwise, she politely nodded. He wasn't the only one who could lie.

"Demons." She said with finality in her voice. After what she witnessed in recent days, none on Remnant could ever hope to prove otherwise. "I'm sure of it. They kill us for no reason other than it is what they're meant to do."

"So, Creed was correct. You are a Daemonhunter." Lothar stated.

"I suppose." Summer pointed to the swirling storm of color above. "Though I feel those demons might be a bit above my weight class."

"We shall see when the battle comes. Now I wish to say my piece."

"Go on." Summer prompted.

"Your king was a fool." The chaplain said in a factual manner.

Summer glanced at the Templar before asking her own question. "How come?"

While her opinion of Ozpin was at an all-time low, she wouldn't just start calling him a fool. He built the world she was born into. The peaceful and happy Remnant she knew and loved.

"He allowed your nations to remain separate and fend for themselves. Created a flawed system. Rather than producing dedicated and loyal warriors for your kingdoms, it creates what equates to mercenaries who follow no creed other than self-interest."

Summer wanted to argue with that. To deny his denouncement of the profession to which she had dedicated the large majority of her life. She was a protector, just as her mother hoped she would be. She had saved countless people during her tenure as a huntress. Then she realized. What about the rest of them? All the other huntsmen and huntresses across Remnant. In her eyes, the job was a noble thing. But she recalled many at Beacon bragging about the wealth and renown they would earn from it. Had she forgotten? Had she chosen to forget? Not all of them were the same. The chaplain continued.

"Given the existence of such vile creatures, it would have been wiser to unite the people and initiate a campaign of extermination. He could have built up the strength to do it. He had a prime opportunity to give them the focus to accomplish such a task. Yet, he chose to advocate for non-violence."

Now that she could argue with. The idea was mad. Even with Atlas's recent breakthroughs in weaponry, clearing out the Grimm was a concept that all believed to be impossible. Especially back then. No one had the manpower.

"A campaign like that would have cost millions of lives. A prospect I'm sure no one wanted to deal with after finishing a war."

"Regardless," Mercer stated. "He was an idiot. Choosing to maintain the world he knows instead of bolstering it for the future. Wasting such a perfect opportunity to unite his people against a common enemy. Such passivity borders on cowardice."

Summer noted the word Mercer used. Passive. That was accurate. Ozpin always preferred to work quietly. Waiting for prime opportunities to pull off something that benefitted him and went completely unnoticed. It annoyed James and Raven to no end. Summer found herself agreeing with the Templars in one regard. It was the perfect opportunity to unite the people against a common enemy. Namely Salem. He had the kingdoms in his hand. So, why didn't he? It couldn't have been just because he'd feel bad if people died. That would have happened regardless of what he'd done. The Relics? Was he worried the people would try to steal them from him? No, he could just hide that part.

He clearly didn't bat much of an eye when people died. Always sitting in that tower of his, worrying about Salem herself, sipping from his damn coffee mug while her Grimm slaughtered innocent people in distant villages.

Summer blinked. The aggression was back. She needed to maintain her composure. Taking a deep breath, she spoke. "I can't speak for the king, but that's the world I was born into. It's just how things are now. Flaws and all."

"As you say. I meant no offense on your part." Mercer said. "Had we encountered the king on our crusades we would have branded him a coward and executed him."

Summer did not like that, but let it slide. Choosing to focus on the twilight as they reached the top of the hill. The colors would have been beautiful if they did not create such disturbing imagery. The sands constantly changed their hue across the open fields.

"It's okay. You've given me something to think about."

"Do you have any questions of your own?" Lothar offered. "We know you are new to the galaxy."

"Thank you but can we have some quiet for a bit? I'd like to think on something."

"We will be here in case you get bored." Mercer joked.

"Hehe, don't worry I'll wake you up if I do." Summer shot back.

Thus, Summer sat down and crossed her legs. Closed her eyes and controlled her breathing. There were things about her home that did not add up. When she returned, she would have answers, but first, she needed a list of questions to focus on.

---

The sound of rushing water caught her attention before she could focus. It emanated from the front and almost stretched around her. Odd. Were the Cadians making a moat? There were no water tankers last she checked. It did not matter much. The defense plan was sound in her mind and if they planned to add a moat, all the better. Slowing the enemy down was a must when your army focuses on ranged combat.

Another rush came and something wet touched her legs. The sudden cold snapped her concentration. Opening her eyes, she gasped in surprise.

She was not where she was before. Instead of an empty plain of sand and dust, dotted with the occasional small mountain, she saw a vast ocean of still dark blue water. Small waves gently lapped at the sand she sat on.

Standing, Summer inspected her surroundings. To her front was the ocean. Behind her was a desert of pure white sand. Completely flat and featureless. Moreover, she appeared to be alone. Lothar and Mercer had vanished. There wasn't a single guardsman in sight. Just her, the ocean, and the starlit sky above. It was quite serene. Even in the dark of night both sand and ocean were perfectly visible as if it were day. This baffled her.

How did she get here? Where was here? This strange and empty beachfront. With waters that gave off an unnerving sense of depth. The color made every part of it look deep. Even the small waves trying to reach her boots. For some reason, she felt that even those thin waters contained a near-endless chasm within. It made her step back when it came close.

Then there was the sand. It was pure white, so much so that if the ocean weren't present, she would have mistaken it for snow. Looking down she saw the waves draw closer. When they touched the sand, the coloration changed from pure white to crimson red. Out of curiosity, she looked down the shoreline. Everywhere the water splashed was stained red.

The calmness was disrupted by a sudden breeze, ruffling her hair and spreading her cloak. Exposing the red interior for her to see. She remembers why she had it there. To remember her mother, remember her roots. But why did that make her feel so uncomfortable now?

Looking down at the dry sand, she dug her boot into it and pushed the sand aside. The underneath was red.

"What is this place?" She said out loud.

She did not like it. This place. This red staining the white. Her heart started racing. The wind picked up and the waves grew. Almost reaching her and creating more red splotches on the ground. Clouds started to appear in the dark sky. Blotting out the stars. An especially large wave nearly caught her before she jumped away. Spreading the crimson further up the shore.

The wind fluttered her cloak again and she gasped with fright. "No."

Some of the water splashed on her cloak. It was only a few drops, but already the stains were changing in coloration.

"No, no, no, no, nononnonono!" Summer dropped to her knees. Taking the stained area in her hands and desperately tried to clean it. Yet as she rubbed at the marks, the red only seemed to spread, like blood from an open wound. As it grew, so did her panic. Only encouraging her to try harder.

In her desperation, she did not notice the waves grow bigger and the sky more violent. While she scrubbed at her cloak, a rogue swell crashed into her.

The shock of the impact froze her. Now, over half of her precious cloak had changed, and all she could see was red. It surrounded her. This was too much. This place. This storm. This color. She had to get away.

Jumping to her feet she sprinted away from the ocean. Once she had gained enough distance, she could clean her cloak. Make it right again. The way it was supposed to be.

As she ran, the wind began to howl. Childish laughter echoed on it. The sound brought her no comfort. Those voices were not her children. She covered her ears as she ran. It did nothing as the laughter morphed from childlike into something cruel. Mocking and insane. Lightning began to strike around her. The crashing of water could be heard again. Louder, more aggressive, and closing in.

Risking a glance back she saw waves the size of buildings. All slamming into the sand, chasing her down. They were getting closer. In response, she burst into a swirl of petals, some white, mostly red. When in this state, she possessed a unique awareness of her environment as well as her own form. She did not exactly see, but she knew where everything was. She had a three-dimensional awareness of everything.

What she felt was that even with her constantly increasing velocity the waves behind her still managed to keep pace. She could perceive her colors too. They were wrong. She was wrong.

It made her want to cry. The wrongness of the moment. What was happening? Why was this happening? How had it all gone so horribly wrong?

The ground beneath her began to rumble and she felt something massive quickly gain on her. A tsunami overtook all the waves and crushed her form. Casting her into a black void. Reforming in the water she flailed and spun around. This ocean was bottomless, and she was too far down to see the surface. Her cloak now fully submerged, turned completely red. Its edges became torn and frayed. Holes appeared in it, giving off the appearance of battle damage.

Summer took no notice, for her attention was drawn to the bottom of the abyss. There, four giant pairs of eyes stared up at her. Each one marked the silhouette of a being of immense size. All were different. She could not make out the shape of any of them in this darkness. There were colors around each one. The first was a fiery red, the water around it boiled, and large angry bubbles rose from its form. The second was a sickly green, the water around this one looked tainted, contaminated. The third was a bright pink and it seemed to scent the ocean around it, the water changed color to match it. The fourth was the strangest of the bunch. A swirling blue tempest surrounded it, lightning did not crackle but swim around it, like a school of electric eels.

Amongst the four, something emerged from the darkness. Summer's heart stopped when she spotted it. Rising from the depths was a monster. At first, she mistook it for a shark, but as it drew closer, its form became form disturbing. Its body was stretched out and covered in barbs. Ending in a spiked tail. Multijointed limbs branched out from every side of it, each ending in hooked claws. The thing had no head just a mass of teeth, all bared directly at her.

Summer felt her panic skyrocket. She did not understand why, but she knew this thing. The disturbing presence it gave off alarmed her. More than anything she had seen before. The pure malice this creature exuded was beyond anything she had seen. She had stared into the fiery red eyes of a Grimm once. That was nothing compared to this thing. Murder. That word echoed in her head when she looked at this being. Murder. This beast was murder and violence incarnate. And it would be her killer if it caught her.

"End of Empires." She heard the beast snarl, it roughly pulled at her mind, using her own thoughts to formulate its words. She had to run, to get away from this monster.

Padding her arms and legs, she pushed herself around. She had to be quick. Her body dissolved into a crimson cloud of petals and swirled into a sharp point. Launching up she quickly gained momentum, but maintaining this pace was difficult. She had used her semblance underwater before, but this felt different. Like some unseen force was actively pushing her down. It kept her from reaching full speed. Yet still, she pressed on. She could feel it gaining on her, clawing its way up from the darkness.

Then an intense pressure fell over her. She felt compressed, almost crushed despite her scattered form. This broke her concentration and forced her to reassemble herself. Her way had been blocked by one of the behemoths from below. The red one towered over her, and flames lit all over its body, making the water bubble, further distorting its form. This giant stared down at her. Rage and hatred rolled off of this monster in waves. It was made of it.

The presence behind her got closer by the second. She tried her semblance again, but the titan acted first. Spreading a pair of wings, it roared, sending ripples crashing into her. The huntress clutched her skull in agony. Her head felt like it was imploding. Why did she suddenly taste copper? Worst of all despite the pain, she could still feel it. The monster was almost here.

She was pretty sure she was crying at this point. If her eyes weren't squeezed shut, she would be weeping. Same for her teeth. If they weren't clenched tight in an attempt to fight off the pain, she would be sobbing.

Why? Why was this happening to her? Did she fail? Was she not enough? Was she ever good enough?

'The strong are the only ones who deserve to lead.' Echoed the voice of her old partner.

Was she right? Did Summer fail simply because she wasn't strong enough? She let her team down. Let it break apart. She was no leader. No example to be looked to. No role model to inspire others. In the end, she was a weapon in Ozpin's feud with Salem. Just like every other Dorn. A weapon. Not a hero, not a savior. Not even a huntress. A weapon.

The beast was right behind her now. Its maw inching closer, ready to tear her to shreds. But it never got to her in time.

Summer had no idea what happened next, but a powerful shockwave rocked the waters around her. Sending her spiraling, not knowing whether she was going up or down. Something grabbed her arm and pulled her hard. The ascent was alarmingly fast, yet surprisingly gentle. Within only seconds she hit the ocean's surface. Being raised completely from the water, she was released, and she fell to her knees on what felt like stone.

The pressure in her head faded and she opened her eyes. Now she sat atop a large tower made of gold. The metal was pristine and smooth to the touch. It radiated a calming light. All around her was a storm. The ocean raged and thrashed in all directions. waves crashed against the tower and each other. War on the most primal level. Lightning struck every nine seconds in all directions. A furious gale rushed past her, constantly trying to push her off the tower and throw her back into the ocean.

She could no longer feel the monstrous presence anymore. The sense of relief was almost refreshing. It did not last. Now, she could see the condition of her cloak. Tattered, torn, full holes, and completely crimson. Bundling as much as she could in her hands, she cradled it in her bosom. There was nothing to stop her now. The tears streamed down her cheeks and were caught in the winds as they fell.

"I'm sorry mom." She sobbed in the storm.

A gauntleted hand gently grasped her shoulder. Looking up she saw Celestine standing before her. The angel's form looked just as battered as Summer's cloak. The gold armor had been chipped, nicked, and cut in multiple places. The feathers of her wings were frayed and damp. Even her sword was not free of damage.

"Celestine." Said Summer. "You saved me again."

The woman went down on one knee, her armor clanging against the gold floor. Her face was still stoic, calm. Yet, there was compassion and sorrow. This was the woman Summer strove to be. Summer saw how her mere presence brought people out of their depressed states. The soldiers brightened up at the sight of her. How she lifted their spirits. She was hope.

Summer could never be like her. Elaine said Celestine inspired armies. Brought hope to entire worlds. Summer couldn't even inspire her own team. In the end, all she did was butcher Grimm. A meaningless act, there were always more. People still died by the hundreds each day. After graduation, she thought she had done it. She had become a symbol of hope for the people. A huntress who would keep them safe. For a time, things were good. Even when Ozpin told them the truth about the Grimm. She was happy. Living the dream.

Then Raven left, and it all seemed to fall apart. Tai was a depressed mess and Qrow took up drinking because of the added stress. His workload was a full-time job now that he had to fill in for his sister. Why had she left? Why did she go after Salem alone? Did Summer do something wrong? Did she think Summer was too weak?

Becoming a savior was a pipe dream after that. She could not go out and protect isolated villages. Tai needed help and Yang needed care. It was not all bad, and she did not regret it. Especially when Ruby came along.

Then she had to go and die. She failed at being a mother.

"Summer," Celestine said. "I was drowning."

She stopped her sobs and blinked the tears away. "What?"

"I was being dragged under. Barely staying on the surface. I'm not the one who saved you."

That couldn't be right. There was no one else here. Just them, this tower, and the storm. "Then who did?'

"I don't know. Something pulled me up here."

Suddenly a bright light silhouetted Celestine's form. Leaning to the side she looked past the angel. Then she saw it.

At the tower's edge stood a golden figure of light. It was huge. No. He was huge. Despite the light, his form was clear. His face was that of a man, and what a face it was. She had never seen someone so breathtaking in all her life. He was tall. Taller than the Templars by far. He wore golden armor, and it held such finery that Celestine's looked spartan in comparison. His left hand was a gauntlet ending in large, curved claws. In his right hand was the flaming sword from her vision. Crowning his dark hair was a golden laurel wreath. A red cape gently fluttered about as if ignoring the raging winds all around them. She had never seen someone so majestic before in all her life. He was beautiful.

Celestine stood and turned. With a sharp gasp, she fell to her knees, her sword flat on the golden floor. She then began to pray in a language Summer did not understand. The golden king, for Summer knew he was a king, did not respond much to this act of reverence. He simply looked down at her. His face bore a neutral expression. Summer could tell he was not displeased with the act, nor did he seem to actively want it.

Summer stood up; her cloak was almost pulled off by the gale. He turns his focus to her but said nothing.

"D-Did you save us?" She asked, now starting to shiver. Damn it was getting cold now.

His reply was a simple nod.

Summer stepped around Celestine and walked up to this man. His gaze fixed squarely on her.

"Are... Are you ... Him?" She asked quivering. "Are you the Emperor?"

Another nod. Celestine's prayers came to an end. Looking back Summer saw the Saint staying completely still. She turned back to him. Was this what he really looked like? If so, then he certainly did not disappoint. Still, if this was him, really him, then why was he here? This was in essence her new boss. Her... Lord. That was going to take some getting used to.

"S-so would you like me to bow, my Lord?" Damn, that sounded weird to say.

To her surprise, not only did his features change into an amused smile, but he also shook his head. What? Didn't he want her to show some courtesy?

Raising his clawed gauntlet, he pointed a single talon toward Celestine. The claw flipped to the palm facing upward. Then it slowly lifted up.

Did he want her to stop kneeling? He wanted her to stand.

"You want her to stand?

Another nod. Alright then.

"Hey, Celestine? You can stand."

The armored woman did not move. Nor say a word. Rude.

"Hey? Did you hear me?" Still nothing.

She turned back to the Emperor. He just stood there. Damn this was embarrassing. Walking back to the angel, she grabbed her right pauldron.

"Co-come on, stand up."

"I am not worthy to look upon Him." Celestine said quietly. With the wind flowing around them, it was a surprise Summer heard anything.

"Don't be stubborn. If I'm allowed to look at him, then so are you. He chose you long before he found me. You're his angel, aren't you?"

Celestine did not reply. Wow, she was stubborn.

"He wants you to stand. Are you going to disobey him because you don't think you deserve it?"

Summer saw Celestine flinch at that. For a moment, the woman lost her composure. Slowly, the angel stood. Leaving her sword on the floor. She gazed upon the form of her master. The smile on his face brightened.

Summer was not sure, but she could almost swear she could see tears rolling down Celestine's face. This must be a big moment for her. If meeting your god does not reduce you to tears, then nothing will.

This was probably a big moment for her too. Yet, she did not feel like crying as her friend did. She just felt a sense of rightness. Like everything was as it was meant to be.

Calm, and serene. He slowly raised his sword and pointed it out into the raging storm.

"I think he wants to show us something." Summer speculated.

She followed his direction. As did Celestine. All three stared into the darkness of the typhoon around them. A spark emerged from the clouds. The first light at the darkest edge of the storm. At first, it was just a spark, but it bloomed into a breaking dawn. A warm sunrise greeted them. Summer no longer felt the chill sinking into her bones. The storm was still present. But it felt lesser now. Not as intimidating. It felt beatable.

Using her enhanced sight, she spotted something within the light. A shape. The shape of a man.

Squinting her eyes, she spotted various features. Blue and gold armor. A handsome face. Rich blonde hair. He was a warrior. Why were they being shown this?

Before she could ask, the light exploded outwards, completely blinding her.

---

She felt pain bloom at the back of her skull as she impacted the rough sandy ground.

"Are you alright?" Asked a familiar voice.

Opening her eyes, she saw Elaine standing over her. Her face was riddled with worry.

"Yeah." She groaned, sitting up. She was back on the hill from before. The planes of the Elysion Fields are all around. Now covered with a crisscrossing network of trenches. All complete and judging by the dots of lights in them, all stationed.

The sky was once again the multicolored mess that she remembered it to be. She was back.

Checking her cloak, she was relieved to see the pristine white had returned. Everything was as it should be.

"What happened?" Asked Summer.

"You were sitting here cross-legged for roughly three hours. We would have tried to wake you, but you were surrounded by a golden glow. We did not want to risk anything." Lyron answered, kneeling next to her and using the device on his wrist to scan her. "Everything appears to be normal."

Summer just gawked. Three hours. She'd been here for three hours. That couldn't be. Then she realized that none of it was real.

"Just a dream." She said out loud.

"What dream?" Demanded Elaine. Oops.

Looking around, Summer saw the whole squad was in attendance, as were all the Templars.

"What did you dream about?" Elaine demanded with a low tone.

Summer did not answer right away. The truth is she didn't even know how. She just wanted some quiet time to meditate and then all that happened. She wasn't trying to sleep.

"I was caught in a storm." She began. "I almost drowned, but I was saved, Celestine was there,"

"You had a vision of the Saint?" Lothar asked.

"Yes." Said Summer, it wasn't a lie. Not exactly.

She didn't want to go into the details. Especially concerning her new Lord. They might think she's crazy. Or some kind of pretender, trying to act divine. Best to leave him out.

"There was a break in the storm. We saw a light. There was someone standing in it."

"Who?" Lothar pressed. "Who did you see?"

"I don't know. He had blue and gold armor on."

"An Ultramarine?" Asked Meller, sounding confused.

Summer did not know what that meant. So, she just shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you."

Elaine and the others watched for a moment. Then she sighed. "You're becoming more troublesome by the day. Come, they're handing out the rations. If we arrive too late there'll be nothing, but wet ration bars left."

The squad flinched at the mention of this food item. Summer understood the implication. It was like eating leftover pizza without a way to reheat it.

"Come on." Elaine held out her hand. "You did a lot of hard work out there. You must be hungry."

"Yeah." Lied Summer as she took the hand offered to her. She was not hungry. Nor thirsty. Not in the slightest. Not since the day she died.

---

There we go.

Remember to offer names if you feel like it. I will give you full credit. It can be a name for anything. I plan to put lots of different factions in as we go.