Chapter 38

"Walking that knife-thin edge"

"Come along."

Kharad-Tan led her further inside. Hawkmoon only reluctantly followed, leaving the bodies (or at least what sort of constituted bodies) behind - forgotten. Into the mountain they delved.

The mountain was a prison.

No palace, no fortress, no getaway from the real world; it was a prison, plain and simple. Sure, it had its temples and meditation chambers and more, all of which she saw as they walked, but it was a prison first and foremost. There were sub-chambers in the corridor beyond the Arch-Fiend's little cathedral. Stasis pods built into the walls, bearing the temporally-locked forms of aliens - some familiar, most inconceivable. There were Tenerjiin. There were others she didn't recognize - not from the Protectorate, not from the Hive, not from the Cabal or Eliksni she knew from her own time. Some slithered, some crawled, some had fists braced against the glass of each pod's screen. All were frozen, plucked out of the passage of time and left to gather dust as living time-capsules.

She should have asked after them.

She would've, too, but that would've meant another few seconds waiting. And Hawkmoon simply didn't have the patience. She'd lived over a quartex as a Cybertronian; she'd lived over an entire quartex without the satisfaction of retribution.

He'd taken everything from her.

He'd taken her entire place in the universe from her.

No - no, she wasn't going to ask. She wasn't going to waste a couple of moments inquiring after the fates of alien strangers, be they innocent or no. Oh, if it was the former then she would've cared.

This just took precedent.

Deeper and deeper they delved, passing more and more cells. The feeling of Dark intensified; the lights began to flicker. The very air turned rough, chafing against the sensitive paneling of her wings. At last, at long last, Kharad-Tan led the way into a massive atrium, dominated by an abyss seemingly dug straight to the moon's core. In the middle of it floated a tower-like stake of chiselled black metal inscribed with non-Hive runes and embossed with circuity-esque patterns. Bright yellow light peeked through where the paneling of dark material gave way, glittering her way like eyes.

Nailed to it, roughly, was the segmented form of a colossal Worm God.

It was Him.

It was Him.

Xol.

Will of Thousands.

The Littlest Worm.

Sole-God Aspirant.

"Breathe in that stench," Kharad-Tan rumbled. "Breathe it in; that is desperation. That is defeat. That is something divine giving into mortal fear, dreading the coming death of lesser things. This one is terrified of ending as you will. As a mortal."

Hawkmoon activated her shoulder cannon. Took aim at Xol's pinned head, skewered through with a steel nail crusted with black-green blood.

"I found this one displaced. The Gardener's errant crusaders had chased its kin into the pits of a gas giant, after they'd... 'felled' me. But this one... this one was left to drift, wounded. Bearing the mark of Worm-bite on His hide. I could smell something else, then. Betrayal - of the self. A clever little plot conceived in treachery. Do you know, metal-wrought, what a brood parasite is?"

Hawkmoon couldn't say she did. So she didn't.

"A brood parasite," Kharad-Tan continued, "is something that lays its eggs in the nest of another creature. To relieve itself of the burden of parenthood. There were no young laid here, but a nest was infiltrated. They nested, the slithering Worm Gods, in the depths of a Krill-eat-Krill world - a planet of weak little prey-things. But... one does not belong. The brood parasite often has to kick an egg of the host out, so as to avoid arousing suspicion. Here is what plummeted from the nest."

Hawkmoon blinked. "You're saying... what? What in the Pit are you talking about?"

"Where I found this coward is where the first trajectory's light ended. A trajectory you allowed to pass, no? But, I dare say, that star has not yet fallen - not as you have. He isn't finished. He has only just begun."

No.

She went looking forward - and there it was. The strange white-scarred marks of bits along the length of Xol's shelled body. Bites - but from something with a mouth like that of the Worm God Himself.

Because... it was Himself.

"He tried to kill Himself," Hawkmoon observed, dumbfounded.

"Yes."

"This... this isn't Him."

"It is but isn't."

Hawkmoon's servos shook. "He's not here, is he?"

Kharad-Tan said nothing.

"But I thought you said-"

"It was not your trajectory alone I watched. I did not lie."

"What about..." Hawkmoon twirled to face him. She was trembling with incandescent rage. "What are you doing with Him?"

"Contemplating what comes next," Kharad-Tan replied. He looked past her, over her. At Xol - just not the Xol that really mattered. "No. I will not diverge from my path."

"But... what are you doing?" Hawkmoon switched targets, shoulder cannon swiveling around - and it was hard. Hard not to just unload all her anger into the convenient proxy. Hard to think bigger. Hard to keep her head in the game. "You're running."

Kharad-Tan made a hacking sound. "I am biding my time."

"For what?"

"What raised you up, what adopted your orphaned existence - I may well look for it."

"The Traveler."

"Call it what you will."

"So - what? You want to trap it?" Hawkmoon challenged. "Use it?"

Kharad-Tan spared her a look she could only describe as reproachful. "I only want to speak with Her," he said, more softly than she could ever imagine coming from him. "Just once more. Once. And then I will be satisfied. Then - then She will have me."

His voice was still loud enough to shake the floor, but that didn't much matter. The tone he used, though, that was something she understood. Past the sonorous voice, past the volcanic rumble of his Tenerjiini inflections, there was something she found familiar in it all. A yearning.

"You're... you're in love," Hawkmoon realized.

A long pause stretched between them, filled with tense silence.

"It is easy to love what is greater than you," Kharad-Tan bitterly admitted. He continued to stare at Xol with something approaching disgust. "Their brilliance blinds you to their faults."

"That's... that's weird. I'm going to tell you that now, that's just plain weird. And it's no excuse." She was starting to get angri-er. Somehow, as if she wasn't already at the end of her tether. "Úthaessel needs your help. If you leave now, you'll be damning billions- no, fragging trillions of people to certain death."

Kharad-Tan shrugged.

"You're a bastard," Hawkmoon snapped. "You're a cold-hearted bastard."

"I am the Gutterborn God; desolation is my way. Seek no alternatives in me - you'll find none."

"You're afraid. Afraid of dying. Afraid of someone mantling what you should have been."

"So the Augur attested many times before."

"Then what's to stop me from killing you here and now?"

Kharad-Tan lazily looked down at her. "You have not the means."

Hawkmoon extended her foldblade. It shimmered purple. "Don't I?"

"You ply at ignorance; I know you are aware of the grave truth. I cannot be felled."

Hawkmoon glared at him.

And smiled.

Thinly at that. She found no real joy in it. Okay, well, maybe a little...

"You can be," she said, almost whispering. "I've seen gods brought low. You'll just be the latest in a long line of semi-divine thugs to get yours. I know - I know that you're Ascendant, but even Ascendants can die. You just have to find their souls - and you've left yours wide open."

Kharad-Tan looked at her as if to say go on.

It struck her, then, that he was enjoying it. That... he understood what she was saying already.

And he was still certain he'd be fine when all was said and done.

But she went on all the same. Her cards had already been laid open; it was simply a matter of calling out the hand she had, understanding that there was nothing else for it.

"Those death-mists out there - I know what those are, now. I'm not totally inept; I can listen sometimes, when it matters. I always make a point of learning how to kill things - and how they'll try to kill me. That field out there's a static death impulse. You've turned your own Throne World, your own soul, inside out and you've left it like that. This isn't a moon, is it? This is your personal thanatosphere, your own little ship for the Sea of Screams dragged out onto the banks of realspace."

"You are familiar with the practice."

"Oh, I am. Intimately. One of those fraggers out there's about to develop it later down the line. But not like you have. You both make your weapons out of raw screamspace, little caustic gusts of Ascendant plane to snuff out troubling things like mortal consciousnesses and coherent molecular bonds. Or, that's what it is for the other guy. He's going to drown everything in His soul the moment He gets the chance, eradicate things more deeply, more permanently. Not you. You use it on biological matter only. Biological. As if forgetting that not all life, not all willpower, stems from a petri dish. So either you're just slow - or it takes a keener mind to progress with these sorts of weapons, and He's that much better than you."

There was a moment of yawning silence. Then Kharad-Tan barked out a laugh.

"You imagine this is my throne?" he asked, holding up his four hands to indicate the mountain around them, the very moon they stood upon.

"No, probably not. It's just the temporary boarding for your vessel. Still - you've exposed yourself. And this," Hawkmoon lifted her Nullblade, "isn't exactly an Ascendant killer, but with your spirit open and out, it'll work just fine. This thing kills wards, bites through enchantment, cuts incantations. You're big, you're strong, you're awful - but you're nothing new."

Kharad-Tan smiled. She could tell he was smiling because his mouth had bared open - and that smile was all teeth. "You are attempting to goad me."

"So what?"

"The Khargrive, the true Khargrive, often goaded me when he wanted something when he lived - and he wanted immortality."

"So you killed him."

"Are you not afraid?"

"I stopped fearing death a long time ago."

"Because you have died. Over and over. Cyclically. Live, do battle, fall. Rise up reborn, breathe in a new life within this... fêted reality. Or am I mistaken? You are another form of parasite altogether - no brood intruder, but something more insidious. That which crawls into a corpse and pulls on its limbs like puppet strings."

"Ironic, no? What with all the controlling you've done towards your own people - ordering their deaths because it 'suits' you."

"I never proclaimed it a sin."

Hawkmoon's faceplates twisted into a scowl. "You're horrid."

Kharad-Tan leered at her. "You throw these words at me like they carry substance and meaning. They do not. This universe was not built on words; it will not be guided towards its end with them either."

"I'm not talking about the end. I'm talking about the here and now."

"So you are." Kharad-Tan straightened up. "I am leaving, lost thing."

"Try it and I'll kill you."

"An amusing prospect - but no. No, the only thing you have a chance of killing now is... that." Kharad-Tan gestured towards Xol - the original of their current timeline, not her backstabbing hitch-hiker.

"I won't-"

"You will. You thirst for vengeance. His death won't be enough - but it will be a start. Won't it?"

She said nothing.

"Fire upon the suspension fields there and there." Kharad-Tan pointed to a pair of gravity-engines on either side of the balcony ringing the abyss. "The Worm will fall. He will perish, as he fears, but I have little doubt he will seek to invoke his alteration-of-reality's-gradient magic before he does. All the same, the eruption of raw energy will fill the core and cause the mantle to break. Crux will collapse. You will not have long to escape - if you wish to do so at all." He paused. "You will likely perish in the coming conflict, and if not, then in the ensuing petty wars sure to follow."

"You might find yourself disappointed," Hawkmoon retorted.

"Perhaps your chosen Emperor might benefit from taking her mother's counsel. As she should have done long ago."

"Is that it? That's all you're going to give us?"

"Die well, Seeker." Kharad-Tan turned about, tore open a fiery rift straight to the Ascendant plane with a furious roar and stepped through. It snapped shut and extinguished with a final hiss.

Leaving her alone.

With Him.

Hawkmoon muttered a curse in every language she knew and marked the suspensors into her targeting matrix.

"He lies," Xol weakly whispered. "He lies."

"Shut up."

"Wield me."

"Shut the frag up," Hawkmoon snarled. "We tried that before, and look where that got me. Just... just-"

She opened fire.

"-die already."

The anti-gravity fields failed. Xol bellowed as he went - right up until the gloom of Crux's maw devoured him in full. The single note of his primal, mournful howl echoed throughout the chamber for a few moments longer.

And that was it.

::'Warp. Nacelle.::

::'Moon! What's-::

::Crux is about to come apart. Get ready to move.::

The death-mists had lifted. Hawkmoon saw as much, the moment she stepped outside. The dying sun stared down at her, bathing the surface of Crux in a pale, bright light. It reflected off the pools of blood - and there was plenty of that. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Everything native to the moon - Tenerjiin and their razorbirds - had died. Killed each other, it looked like, with the remainder having more than likely done themselves in. Even Triipotes was gone. He hung from the mountain face, strung up by his own whip.

"Primus," Hawkmoon muttered, darting past the body.

Cyberwarp and Nacelle were waiting for her, engines revving. They departed together, without a word - lifting off as one and transforming just as they hit the outer lays of the moon's thin atmosphere.

They'd failed.

The Khargrive- no, Kharad-Tan was gone.

And Crux was cracking apart below them.

They landed in the End of Reservation's hangar in much the same way - in sullen silence. Cyberwarp's EM field radiated distress; Nacelle's was thick with dejection.

Apparently he hadn't been able to talk Triipotes out of it.

He didn't realize-

::They're all alive,:: Hawkmoon told them.

Both Seekers flinched.

::How?!:: Nacelle demanded.

::Ascendant. They're all... they're all Ascendants.::

Nacelle vented a sigh. ::Then they're-::

::Not coming to help.::

::What? Why?::

::Because Kharad-Tan would rather run than take on the Hive.::

::Kharad-Tan? Wait a seco-::

::You came out alone,:: Cyberwarp said. ::I guess the Augur's dead? The Khargrive too?::

::In a manner of speaking, yes,:: Hawkmoon grunted.

::What does that mean?::

::Augur's gone now, yeah, but the Khargrive's been dead for millennia. He was never there. It was Kharad-Tan all along.::

::The First Arch-Fiend?:: Nacelle questioned. ::Frag. Is he... joining the Hive?::

Hawkmoon shrugged. ::I don't think so. I... I don't know. It doesn't matter; the end result's the same.::

::You think we're going to lose.::

::You saw Xivu Arath. We can't fight that.::

They reached the bridge. Ikitri turned to them, gave her a questioning look, and peered past with narrowed eyes. He looked... confused. "What... what happened?"

"They killed Augur," Hawkmoon coldly reported. "The Khargrive and his people are gone."

"Crux is... Hold on. Did you do that?"

"Yes."

Ikitri backed up a pace. The bridge crew glanced over at her and stared.

"But they were already dead by then," Hawkmoon added. "It was a species-wide suicide."

"A what?!"

"I have vid-logs if you don't believe me."

"But... why has Crux-"

"Because the Tenerjiin had a guest. And I had a score to settle."

She felt Cyberwarp's and Nacelle's optics boring holes in the back of her helm. Hawkmoon refused to even think about it.

Ikitri reached up and braced his hands over his beak. Like a human pinching the bridge of their nose, maybe. His eyes scrunched shut and he exhaled sharply. "What about the Khargrive?"

"He wasn't there."

"Then we need to look-"

"He was never there," Hawkmoon continued. "It was Kharad-Tan."

"... Excuse me?"

"It was Kharad-Tan," she repeated. "He's Ascendant. He sent some Tenerjiin to fight the Hive on the Ascendant plane-side of your Protectorate. The Hive tore them apart. And that's it. That was all the help he was willing to give."

The ensuing silence was deafening.

"I'll need... need to report this to the Star-Court," Ikitri eventually said, and weakly at that.

Hawkmoon gave him a sharp nod, retreated until her back was to the wall and slid down until she was sitting. Her servos came up to cover her faceplates completely on automatic. Her wings twinged uncomfortably, taut with built-up stress. Even her spark ached.

Cyberwarp came to her, Nacelle too. They sat down beside her, on either side. Their wings smoothly slid over her own - a soft sensation. Comforting.

They were hers.

Her trine.

Her Fireteam.

Her latest grasp at finding something like a family.

She wondered what Vaudren would say if she saw her there and then. Or little Benni, too. Maybe they'd say-

"Listen up, everyone." Elsie stood up. Raised a hand for their attention. "The Vex have to be in the tunnels by now. So we're going by foot in the snow to get to the ship. Our destination is 55°52 N, 44°11 W, in case you get lost. I want every Exo to turn their Infrasensors on and ensure their weapons are loaded and ready. We will get all of you off-world. I promise."

If she'd ever heard an empty oath before, there it was.

"We're never going to leave this godforsaken snowball," Lennox-1 murmured.

Octavius sent her a strained look. "Have some faith."

"Lost that a long time ago, Ock."

No. No, that wasn't it. Wrong life - but she still saw it there, in perfect detail. The plasteel faces of every Exo in the room, turned towards the resident Bray. Some hopeful. Some scared. Some like her - having already given up on the idea of a better world.

She remembered the next part too. In scraps and fragments, borne on Exo dreams. How she and Octavius ran into a Minotaur, their Infrasensors barely picking up on the ten-foot Vex construct through the Europan blizzard before it was upon them. How it herded them away from the others. How they'd brought it down after an hour's worth of cat-and-mouse, and trudged onwards to the nearest colony-shelter to resupply - and found the colonists there dead or turning into Vex.

And how her already low hopes had died off altogether.

Just like what was happening to her now.

::I'll get you two out,:: Hawkmoon muttered. ::I promise.::

Cyberwarp pressed against her side. ::You too.::

No. No, that was looking to be a tad impossible. Win or lose - she was dying. She was dying of DER and there wasn't a cure in sight.

::All three of us,:: Hawkmoon lied.

It was the least she could do.

Exactly like Elsie Bray had done for her.

The End of Reservation jumped directly back to Tai Prime. It felt good to be in a star system not steeped in the Dark. Oh, sure, it had its own godly presence, but the Sun was probably just some semi-causal consciousness borne of a freak physics accident - a stellar intelligence, not the Literal-Force-Of-Evil. It was easy to ignore the idea that the star had its tendrils on them too, what with the sensation being less than physical.

Besides, when did dark matter ever kill anyone?

They picked themselves up and readied to go. Hawkmoon approached Ikitri just to ask, "Need anything else?"

He didn't reply. Not immediately. Just glanced at her blankly. "I doubt it. I have a report to make. Feel free to return to your kin, if that is what you want."

"They'll be leaving soon. Raven Bridge."

"Then I suggest you see them off. You are staying, aren't you?"

Hawkmoon nodded stiffly.

Ikitri turned back around. "You've left me with a most unenviable task. Why did you destroy Crux? How did you destroy Crux?"

"I killed a Worm God," Hawkmoon quietly explained. "An old captive of Kharad-Tan's. Shot out the grav-tethers keeping him from falling into the core. That's all."

"An entire moon was destroyed for a... what? A grudge?"

"Essentially."

"I hope you realize how fortunate you are, having somehow earned the Emperor's favour. Her protection is all that shields you from a tribunal."

"Probably my winning personality."

"You don't understand, do you?" Ikitri twirled around, furious. "The Augur is dead. The Khargrive..."

"Is the Arch-Fiend," Hawkmoon finished.

"Two of the Star-Courts Speakers. Representatives for two Protectorate species - gone. Gone in a time of war. The entirety of the Tenerjiin are gone."

"I couldn't exactly stop it."

"You were sent to bring them back into the fold."

"We were a couple millennia too late for that."

"We're damned. You've damned us. The Augur at least... We needed him. No Verunlix could see things as clearly as he did. I don't care if you killed him or not; that failure is yours all the same. My people..." Ikitri choked off. "This war will either kill us or turn us into a beast of war - just like them."

"Yeah, well, I haven't been having a great time of it either," Hawkmoon bitterly retorted. "So - do you want me around for your report or-"

"Do as you wish, Seeker. You're not my responsibility - nor do I want you to be."

"That's a very longwinded way of saying 'frag off'."

"Leave me be. And leave me out of any future... feuds of yours, please."

Hawkmoon didn't deign to grace him with a reply. She turned on her heel and walked out of the bridge, faceplates set in a dangerous scowl. Cyberwarp and Nacelle dutifully followed. They marched down to the hangar and, without further adieu, flew out. The cold of empty space embraced them, kicking aside all notions of sound and pressure. There was a marked difference between being inside the pressurized chamber full of artificial atmosphere and complete vacuum. The ambient noise she'd taken for granted was just gone - like that.

All that remained was the clamour of her own internal systems at work and comfort of comms chatter.

::What now?:: Cyberwarp asked, subdued.

::We failed,:: Nacelle muttered. ::I... don't know. Úthaessel needed-::

::Where're the others?:: Hawkmoon cut in. She tapped their formation-wide comms. ::Hawkmoon, checking in. Status?::

::THERE you are!:: Northwind chirped. ::Thank Primus. Swiftsear's... telling us we're to leave shortly. We're at-::

::Is Hawkmoon there?:: another voice chimed in, in the Tai language. It wasn't a Cybertronian.

Hawkmoon would have frowned if she weren't locked in her alt-mode. ::Oor? What are you doing-::

::We're on Enlightenment. You should come say goodbye to your friends; they'd love it, I'm sure.::

She paused. Took stock. ::I see. What about you? How are you doing?::

::Business is in a weird way right now. I've got some cargo stranded, y'know? I'm eager for it to get a move on - but restrictions are the way they are. You understand.::

::Perfectly. We're just back from the field ourselves. It's been a hectic day - for everyone. Ikitri's itching to get back into the fight.::

::I'll bet. That's your Marooner friend, right?::

::Right.::

::I know his kind. Always the first to hit the scene.::

::Don't I know it. We'll be with you shortly.::

::See you then.:: Oor'un'xu cut the call short.

Scrap.

Scrap.

::How'd he get access?:: Cyberwarp wondered aloud.

::Northwind probably wired him in. Don't see why he didn't just hail us directly like everyone else does::

::It's a trap,:: Hawkmoon interrupted. ::Nacelle, call Ikitri. There's a situation. On Enlightenment.::

Nacelle spluttered. ::Woah woah woah, WHAT?!::

::Just do it. That's an order.::

::What in the Pit just happened?:: Cyberwarp questioned.

Hawkmoon did a check of her weapons systems - all operable. ::It was a warning.::

::It was?::

::What kind of trouble?:: Nacelle pressed.

::I don't know,:: Hawkmoon replied. ::But Oor was wary of being overheard.::

::The natives can't hack our comms. They don't have the means. Neither can the Hive.::

::They can on Oor's end of things. I doubt he's using a Cybertronian transceiver.::

::Why didn't Swiftsear tell us about this trap, then? Or Northwind?:: Cyberwarp inquired.

::It's... possible they don't see it,:: Nacelle realized. ::We need to get to them - now.::

Hawkmoon didn't argue; Cyberwarp neither. They funneled through a warp-jump straight to the station orbiting the sun without another moment of pause.

Enlightenment was even grander from the outside - a glittering free-floating citadel drifting on solar winds, huge reflective sails streaming from long branching spindles. Warm blue lights blinked along its edges; panels with which to draw on the energy radiated by the divine Sun had been hammered in along its flanks. It was a clever construct, Tai flesh nailed seamlessly onto alien bone. The tech at its core - the space-bridge - was clearly not of their make, nor of their patron Myods, but they had adopted it well. Embraced it as the beating heart of their Protectorate, connected to the rest of the empire by space-bridge veins injected straight into neighbouring star-systems.

They approached the portside hangar, the closest, as fast as they could. Hawkmoon could feel targeting matrices settling on them, she could feel the firing sequences charging up. The moment she felt the cautious signal of the station reaching out, she jumped to answer.

::This is Enlightenment air-control, you are approaching a restric-::

::We're Cybertronians, Seekers! You know who we are!:: She pinged them her Tai ident-codes for good measure.

There was a pause on the other end. ::I see. Wait one moment.::

The End of Reservation slid out of warp behind them. The arsenal ship drifted to a halt where it was, likely answering the same hail. Hawkmoon waited, and waited, and-

::Seekers, you are clear to approach. Your credentials check out. Welcome.::

They shot towards the nearest hangar, barely slowing down as they darted through the atmospheric shielding, and transformed quickly - pedes skidding across the floor, leaving deep scratches in their wake. A pair of nearby Tai flight-attendants perked up and stared at them, utterly bewildered. That confusion turned to anxiousness as Hawkmoon quickly approached.

"Which way is the Raven Bridge?" she all but demanded.

They ran into the grand hall where the space-bridge was housed, almost barreling into the back of Sandstorm and Quell as they crashed through the doors. The two mechs turned around in surprise and stepped out of their way. Hawkmoon slid to a stop, wings flaring out to catch herself, and quickly looked around. The faceplates of five different mecha stared back.

Two Eecharik as well.

"Oor," Hawkmoon said.

Oor'un'xu gave her an unreadable look. Glanced at the other insect - but Iix'ii'xii only had eyes for Hawkmoon.

"The oracle returns," she half-sung.

Hawkmoon frowned. Looked around again and - yeah, it was just them.

Where was the trouble?

"How was Crux, dear?" Iix'ii'xii inquired.

Hawkmoon looked around a third time. Peered into the shadows at each corner, behind every pillar, below the inactive space-bridge ring.

"Hawkmoon?" Swiftsear pressed. "What's wrong?"

She looked back at Oor'un'xu.

His hands were hovering by his holsters.

He expected trouble, but she couldn't see-

Oh.

"Your... grace." Hawkmoon dipped her head, finally turning to face the Eecharik queen. "Sorry, I've been..."

"Dreading this moment?" Iix'ii'xii laughed. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "I can only imagine. It's so difficult to say goodbye to that you love, isn't it?" Her primary hands clasped together over the front of her carapace. "You'll miss them, I'm sure."

Hawkmoon relaxed. Trouble? Sure. Just not the kind she'd been expecting. "Definitely."

"You are close?"

"I... think so. I hope so. Northwind, Quell and Skydive are my friends." She looked at each mech in turn. "Have been from the get-go."

Iix'ii'xii nodded, her mandibles pressing together. "I understand that. It's delightful, isn't it? To be among like-minded people."

"I wouldn't call us 'like-minded'."

"Ah, perhaps not. But it is good to be in accord; you all care what happens here. I honestly find that... remarkable. After all I've heard of Cybertron - I didn't expect any of you to become so invested in the fate of organic-based lifeforms." Iix'ii'xii sighed. "But, I suspect, the Khargrive mustn't have shared that sentiment. He isn't here."

"He's..." Hawkmoon hesitated. "Indisposed."

"I predicted as much. He always enjoyed surrounding himself with mysteries and secrets. He wears them like a shield, you know. It's almost... frustrating. But I do enjoy the challenge."

"What are you doing here?" Oor'un'xu snapped.

Iix'ii'xii barely spared him a look. "Can I not see the Cybertronians off? Speak with the captivating Hawkmoon? I was unaware that there were Imperial restrictions around-"

"You're not supposed to be here."

"Not 'supposed' to, maybe, but I am here because I want to be. I made that choice. I am free to make it." Iix'ii'xii sighed. "Oh freedom. What a trip, no? What a joke. What a wonderful, beautiful thing to behold. The fruits of true freedom are a rare thing, and it makes me envious. Here I stand, locked in the strictures of purpose and royal duties, pushing my boundaries and limits as best I physically can, and you... you, you adventurous outcast, you audacious smuggler, you taste of those fruits, you hide them selfishly, but you enjoy them. It turns me into a jealous old thing, it truly does."

"You're not supposed to be here," Oor'un'xu repeated, almost hissing. "Mother-"

"Oh no, sweetheart, no no no," Iix'ii'xii purred. She leaned down to him. Her eyes glinted green. "I'm not your mother."

One of her hands shot forward, quicker than Oor could draw.

He stumbled back.

Looked down in disbelief.

At the dark chitin-knife plunged deep into his abdomen, slick with soulfire.

Iix'ii'xii straightened up. "I'm afraid," she casually continued, shrugging off the veiled shadows of false-shell and illusionary hexes, "that she died a long time ago."

Oor'un'xu collapsed.

Hawkmoon's optics widened. She took a step back. Then another. And another. "You're...

"You're...

"You're...

"You're... Her."

The thing that used to be Iix'ii'xii peeled apart. Black tar spilled out the fractures in her form, and something rose up out of it. Something tall and lean and cast in bone and chitin, with three shimmering green eyes hanging over a skeletal grin.

"You're-"

"I am Savathûn," the thing whispered sweetly. "Sister of Shapes, Deepest in High Coven, Scheme-Mother - and I am so thrilled to finally, truly, make your acquaintance... oh Seeker mine."

Hawkmoon roared. She flung herself forward, Nullblade already engaged.

Only for her thrust to be swatted aside by the elegant length of a thin hadium rapier - and for a hand to shoot out, shoot past her ramshackle defense to snatch her out of the air by her neck. The Hive God threw her against the wall beside them, hard enough that Hawkmoon's vision swam before her and her struts were left rattling. She heard gunfire - and then the flash of soulfire, of foul magic being cast. A barrier of flickering green separated them from the others, warding away the ensuing plasma blasts and energy fire, muffling the angry shouts and alarmed cries.

A hand came for her. Hawkmoon snarled and lanced her Nullblade through it, Void-coated blade punching through shell and flesh and bone with relative ease. Still it came. The punctured hand slid down the sizzling blade, three talons closing down around the servo that held it and keeping it still.

The God of Trickery knelt down before her with delicate poise, a far cry from the domineering tyrant that was Her Brother and the unquenchable brute that was Her Sister. Where They were masses of muscle and shell, demonic things bearing tattered wings and scratched armour, the Hive sorcerer in front of her was different - refined and dignified. Her cuirass was flowing, Her faulds were mere leather - Wormskin, it looked like - and Her wings bore a smooth gossamer shine, bearing subtle hints of colour like an exotic dragonfly's. Her pauldrons were flared and Her sabatons sharp, but that was about the extent of it. Everything was... sophisticated, not merely pragmatic. In place of the dramatic horns and helmes employed by Her siblings, She simply bore a shawl of spectral webbing over Her head.

Her rapier flashed forth. It speared right through Hawkmoon's shoulder, right through her wing and into the wall behind her.

Like Xivu's Celebrant had done.

The pain wasn't quite the same; the rapier was a slimmer thing. It still hurt like hell, pretty much had her writhing with the throbbing ache of it, but... it was not the same. It was not blinding. It was not debilitating. Not entirely.

A claw touched the edge of her helm and ran along her jaw, softly, carefully. A caress - unwanted, hated, mocking her for her mortal limits.

"What an impish little thing you are," Savathûn whispered. "To know so much, when we have barely revealed ourselves. To make so many enemies, when you've barely even crossed blades with my kind. They want you, you know. My darling Brother and hungry Sister. You've slain Their champions; you've insulted Their strength directly. I almost admire it. No, I do. I do admire it. But - and most of all - I wonder... why?"

Hawkmoon glared at Her. Glared through the pain. Through the shock. Through the horrifying implications.

"That's fine, you don't need to tell me now. You can hide, while They ride for death and ruin. I highly advise you do so. Hide from Them - for me. I'll come to collect you later. I promise."

Savathûn tugged her rapier free and stood up. Hawkmoon gasped as it went - and struggled to her pedes when the Hive God pulled Her hand free of the Nullblade.

"Take care now," Savathûn laughed. She winked with her right eye. "I'd hate to see you sully those pretty little wings of yours."

The space-bridge yawned open. But it was only green - no kaleidoscope of rainbow colours. Savathûn strolled for it, afforded her one last look - and stepped through.

It remained open.

It howled.

Hawkmoon vented a pained, exhausted, hopeless sigh.

"Frag."

AN: Huge thanks to Nomad Blue for editing!

Witch Queen is awesome, and I've only just begun. Glaives are my new favourite weapon.