Divine Intervention

by CAN I SEE YOUR PASSPORT

Two Girls are saved by a Guardian Angel and Saint Celestine, forging her own path, navigates a world that she has no knowledge on.

26. (Not) Having A Good Time

(Not) Having A Good Time

She awoke with a start and a flash of an alleyway.

Her eyes took a few moments too long to adjust to the dark room, lit by candlelight from a chandelier and soft green light through large, intricately designed windows. Whatever bed she was in must have been made with the best materials found- soft, silky sheets entangled her while the mattress let her sink into it. It was warm. So, so warm.

Emerald forced the reality of her situation away, begging for it to vanish and let the bed swallow her whole.

She took a breath and wiped her eyes dry from unwanted tears. With a small amount of effort, she forced herself to sit up with both arms.

She paused once upright and blinked. She tilted her head down at her right arm- wasn't it broken? Slowly, Emerald lifted it up before her and rolled her arm over; a faint, barely visible scar ran up under her forearm, over the outside of her bicep and just over her shoulder. Now that she was looking at it, a dull throb of pain permeated over the arm but wasn't enough to make her wince or cry.

Just scrunch her nose in annoyance as Aura instinctively covered her injuries.

"The Haemonculi are masters of the art of flesh-crafting," Lelith's voice echoed gently over the room. Emerald snapped her head up and found the woman lying in a large, elevated bath that steamed with warm water and was lit with a small collection of candles, "the scars are a reminder, I believe, that they could have removed them entirely but did not."

Emerald took a breath and gulped, "it barely hurts,"

"You are welcome," Lelith said and laid her head back against the wall, "I have discovered just how many favours a few Haemonculi owe me,"

"What?" Emerald blinked slowly, "I- I don't understand,"

Lelith took a breath and sunk a little deeper into the warm water with a relaxed sigh, "for whatever reason, a few Haemonculi owe me for past deeds. I used a few otherwise you would be feeling the pain of being cut open, bones rearranged and regrown. I even merely asked what they wanted to make it as painless as possible, they wanted me for a night to inflict pain and pleasure upon them and for them... they really got the better end of the bargain."

"O-oh…" she stuttered, "um…where- where are we?"

"The Crucibael, my section of it," Lelith answered, "in a few day's time I will be performing, and if we are lucky we will find a Harlequin and leave,"

"What about the General?"

"If he is alive, he is most likely already some Archons plaything," Lelith sighed, "I would show you why I have little faith that he is alive, but it would be a... very unpleasant sight,"

Emerald frowned, "I'm not weak-" she tried to puff her chest out but her mask of bravery faltered slightly- "t-the armoured thing wasn't going to stop me from fighting back,"

Lelith cracked an eye open, "I saw. Your hands were bloody and broken from slicing them on the Kabalites' armour. You did nothing to him, but we can change that."

A brief flash of the alleyway, the one all the way back in Mistral during a downpour of rain, burst into her mind. Though instead of a cloak-wearing woman approaching her little shelter, sleek, dark green armour covered in spikes and maleficent, glowing eye lenses stared down at her.

She shivered from both the cold, infringing fear of two unwanted memories and the still air.

"If you are cold, there is more than enough room in this for us both," Lelith said, now looking directly at her, "I wish to also inspect your arm,"

It didn't take much of a thought for Emerald to slide out of the bed, and for her to regret it as she only then noticed the lack of clothing on her-

"Do not worry, only I have seen you naked here," Lelith said in a surprisingly soft tone. Though it vanished as quickly as it came, "all of your clothes had blood and vomit on them,"

Emerald nodded slowly, "I liked that jacket…" she glared at nothing in particular, "fucking asshole,"

At that, Lelith raised a dangerous brow, "me?"

"No, the dick, that Kabal-guy," Emerald sneered as she stepped up to the bath and slipped in opposite Lelith with a mix of anger and sadness, "h-he hurts me and takes my good clothes away…"

"He did not take you, that is the main thing. Clothes and other items are replaceable, no matter the sentimental value. You are not," the Succubus put her arms up over the back of the bath and let one hand dangle out over the edge. She tilted her head slightly and a wave of emotions flickered in her eyes as she stared at Emerald.

It wasn't as threatening or as ill-natured as the Kabalite, even if their eyes were both as black as night with only the iris for colour, Lelith's wasn't as cold as his were when she looked at her.

"I may not know her well, but I know that Celestine is most likely worried," Lelith said softly, "she cares for you,"

Of all the things for her to say, that wasn't what Emerald expected but she wasn't going to complain, "yeah… I- I want to see her,"

"I know you do," Lelith straightened her posture and rolled her neck, "I want you to realise that what you did, you are going to have to do again,"

"I don't want to," Emerald muttered and brought her knees to her chest,

Lelith continued to stare, "we all do things we do not want to- you are no exception to the rule. This galaxy is cruel and unforgiving. You are not me, you do not take joy in killing and I am not asking you to."

Emerald rested her chin on her knees, "how do you do it?" she waved a hand with a small splash of water, "be so casual about killing?"

"All I have known is this life- that Kabalite? I have done worse than him- done worse to others and had worse done to myself," Lelith sighed and looked out one of the windows at the ever-moving spires of Commorragh, "I have killed, raped, assassinated, tortured and lied to many, many people. By your standards, I am a horrible being, Celestine likes making that known to me. But for me, this is as normal as breathing is to you. I do not feel sorrow or regret for my actions, only acknowledgement that I did them and will do them again,"

She looked back at Emerald with forlorn features, "what you have seen and experienced is but the smallest taste of Commorragh, Emerald, my presence alone near you protects you from most of it," Lelith frowned deeply, "those Kabalites were greedy and took my absence for weakness, that is why they fought me; ambition got to them faster than they matured, that is why they died,"

"Will you lie to me?" Emerald asked quietly as she turned her head and placed her cheek on a knee. Her eyes were unfocused as she blindly stared out at Commorragh and let the nausea of trying to comprehend it all numb her,

"Depends. Will it protect you?" Lelith asked back,

"From you or something else?"

Lelith didn't respond for a long, long moment. When she did, her voice was barely a whisper, "do you fear me?"

Emerald looked back at her slowly and found softness in Lelith. Not in a physical sense, but that her eyes were soft, not the cold, glassy look she always had. The light seemed to seep in instead of reflecting back or being absorbed completely.

"N-no," Emerald gulped as her eyes started to sting, "yes… I don't know," she stumbled over her words, "you just told me you did so many bad things and don't feel bad about it!"

Lelith nodded, "I know. Everything I have done, I am not above doing again and again and again." Lelith seemed to deflate a little; the tautness in her body relaxed as the bath water heated, "however, I do not believe I could do any of it to you or Celestine… even the concept of killing either of you is an oddly… uncomfortable one,"

"How-" Emerald swallowed down her anxiety- "how do I know you're not lying?"

"I have every opportunity to not leave my home," Lelith let her head fall back against the wall, "I do not need, or want, to draw the attention of Asdrubael, put on a show or even defend you from anything in this city," she looked down her nose at Emerald, "a few months for me is the same as a week to you- but being forced around either of you made me tolerate your existence,"

"Who's Asdrub- Asdrubaile?" Emerald focused on the name more than her swirling, conflicting emotions towards the woman before her, "As-dru-bael?"

Lelith nodded at her attempt to pronounce the name correctly, "Asdrubael Vect, the Supreme Overlord of Commorragh and the most powerful man in this city, and if he is not here for any reason, I fill his place. But he rarely leaves and when he does, it is to watch me in battle, making the arrangement rather useless,"

"You're an actual queen?" Emerald asked in astonishment,

"I wanted power, so I seized that power from those I deemed undeserving- dozens of Kabals and Wych Cults fell, and I rose in their place," Lelith grinned at her, her canines all but glinted in the green light of Commorragh, "my hair, it is natural, as I have said before, but my place as the Wych Queen started phenomena within the Wych Cults- in an attempt to gain my grace the Wyches altered their hairs pigments to match my own,"

Emerald tilted her head, "they mimic you?"

Lelith nodded pridefully, "they are all sycophants, they all want my attention so they gain power or to try and replace me,"

Yet through it all, she seemed to thrive on performing in arenas and in the streets of Commorragh despite the threats to her life, even going as far as to make a show of it in her earliest days and cementing the image she now had.

Lelith slowed in her tales, fell further into the bath, and stopped as the water came up to her chin.

Emerald stared at the woman who was surrounded by her hair, floating in the water around her and even up to Emerald herself. But it didn't resemble hair with how dark it was wet and it reminded her of blood in the water,

"How did you meet, uh, Asdrubael?" Emerald asked and slunk down to Leith's level in the water,

"You can not call him that when around him, to you it is Supreme Overlord or Overlord," Lelith advised, then answered her question, "he enjoyed one of my shows, so he came to the next and the one after that… eventually he came to every one of my performances, watched them all and memorised each of my roles in the grand plays. Eventually, he asked to meet me."

"Oh," Emerald blinked as the lights through the large opening to the balcony turned a darker green and the moving spires cast shadows over them, "so, he was just a fan of a celebrity?"

Lelith chuckled, "when put like that, even if it's true, sounds strange," she grinned and suddenly rose out of the water, "nothing more than a slave to his hormones," she laughed sharply and stepped out of the bath, "dry off and get dressed, it is time I made myself known officially,"

Emerald gulped and felt her muscles tense up, "uh, are th-those Kabalites gonna be there?"

Lelith glanced back at her as she wrung her hair out, "yes. You will be by my side at all times unless stated otherwise,"

"Okay…" Emerald nodded and sat up a little, ignoring the tremors in her limbs and fear of seeing the armoured warriors again, "but, uh, I don't have clothes…"

She watched as Lelith finished wringing out her hair and sauntered over to the beautifully furnished chair and small table that sat on a fur rug. Just next to it was a caged opening in the wall and Lelith snapped her fingers as she sat down, a few seconds later, raging blue flames burst up with a literal echo of screams and bathed the room in heat.

"Left side of the bed, the door leads to my wardrobe, take whatever you wish, including weapons if any catch your eye," Lelith sat back in her chair and held herself high,

Emerald nodded and slowly stood with her arms wrapped around her chest, "this feels weird,"

"Only because you let it be so," Lelith crossed a knee over her other, planted her elbow on the arm of the chair before she leant her head in her palm, "I care not for your state of dress," she flicked her eyes over Emerald, "stand tall, stand proud and move with confidence, then it will matter not how you are dressed. Clothes are not the primary source of an image, only a large chunk of it- it is the image you present no matter what that shows how vulnerable you really are,"

Emerald lifted her head a little higher and pulled her shoulders back, "like that?"

Lelith shook her head and stood, "own yourself. Drop the tensity in your muscles, straighten your back."

Emerald watched as Lelith took her own advice, yet nothing really changed with her stance. She stood well above her, as Lelith's height always allowed, with a hand on one hip and her head tilted slightly. One half was lit by the green from outside and the bright blue of the fireplace, and her bright red hair flowed down her back adding to her intimidating, beautiful image.

Her eyes widened and she did as asked, "oh…"

"Practice more," Lelith dismissed with a wave to the door beside her bed, "carry yourself like that everywhere you go, no matter how you are dressed or armed,"

Emerald let out a breath and smiled slightly, "I mean, looking cool is nice, but I can't fight well…"

"We are changing that," Lelith said as she sat back in the chair, "you are a child, a human child. You are weak. However, you, like the rest of your kind, can be reshaped." a grin spread across Lelith's face, "you are getting something all my Wyches have wished for since I have been Succubus-"

Emerald forced a smirk, but shuffled her feet a little, "you naked?"

"True." Lelith snorted, "but I am training you, as is Celestine, the Custodian and the Pariah. Now go, get something to wear- if you like something and it does not fit, I can have it changed to fit as you grow,"

"That's a thing?" Emerald blinked and shook her head as she turned and made her way to the door, "in a moving city that's in a portal, door…place…" she muttered under her breath and stopped thinking too hard about it,

The wardrobe door suddenly lit a dull green as she touched it and it pulled away from her with a jolt, and what sounded like a muffled scream, before it rose silently. It locked into place above the doorframe and the dark halls abruptly lit as candles burst to life.

When she was told it was a wardrobe, she expected a decently large room filled with racks full of clothes like on those shows that showed off the richest Atlesians' houses. But this?

The rows of enclaves in the dark walls held what looked like mannequins, as she made her way in Emerald noted that there were hundreds of them. Every dozen or so, halls would split off and be filled with even more clothes and armour.

"For someone who doesn't wear much, you have a lot of shit," Emerald muttered as she eyed a dark corner off cautiously.

She continued down the hall; each set of clothes was different, some were corsets, others were dresses or Armour- all of which were elegant, sharp and regal. Some covered a lot of the mannequins' 'skin', and a lot more simply didn't cover anything of importance.

Emerald couldn't say she was surprised, if anything it just cemented what she knew of Lelith and the fact the woman seemed to feel nothing. Well, that wasn't entirely correct. So much was easily brushed off by her, ignored outright, even. Though, she- she clearly could be angry…

A candle flickered to her left and she snapped out of the beginning of an unwanted daydream.

She turned to the flicker and shivered in the breeze, "do any of these have pants?"

---

Squeamish was not something anyone could call him, not after losing half his body to the hordes of Grimm. But the sight he was forced to witness through the cage bars was one that he knew would stay with him for the rest of his life.

It wasn't the dissection, the splattering of blood, organs and other fluids on the floor that made him squirm uncomfortably. Nor was it the large spikes impaling through the subject's back and out their front, pinning them to the surgical table and refusing to let them go.

No, it was the humming that the subject begged and pleaded to stop. The sweet, melodic humming never stopped. No matter what the subject did, the Wych kept humming with a giggle of glee. Not the torture, but the damn humming was what they wanted to stop… and Ironwood couldn't blame them.

It never stopped, not for the three days, he was tossed into the cage with a pair of twins.

The screaming was grating in his ears- so raw and agonising on his ears, drilling into his mind. He clenched his eyes closed and took a breath. And another.

The mumming grew louder but no less melodic. Why wouldn't the Wych stop? Why won't it all stop? Ironwood gulped down another breath shakily-

"Asdrubael asha thara!"

The humming stopped abruptly and Ironwood snapped his head up. The Wych was gone. The subject was left cut open and moaned in what sounded like mild pain. How long were they there for the pain to be preferable to humming? Days, months? Given the copious amounts of tubes from their body, and how unidentifiable they really were… he'd believe they were there for years.

The abhorrent view was suddenly blocked as one of the twins knelt on her knees in front of him, close enough for her body heat to be felt. She took his hand in her own, "We carry His shield of Faith and wield His Holy fire- Our God-Emperor, aid us in protecting the faith in you, aid us in smiting your foes. Grant us your strength to live on where your light can not reach, for us to be your light-"

"Sister, He is of the Cult Mechanicus, the Omnisiah owns him,"

The twin glared up at her other half, "we must try, for He On Earth and our Holy Saint,"

Ironwood tore his eyes away from the woman in front of him and looked down at his robotic hand, or where it should be. Would he be so lucky next time to lose a part of his prosthetics and not more flesh?

"What is your name, Tech Adept?" the woman asked softly,

He licked his lips and glanced up, "G-General James Ironwood,"

"A Mechanicus General? That is unusual to the extreme," The twin sitting against the cage spoke, her voice was a little gruffer compared to her sister,

Ironwood shook his head, "I don't know what the Mechanicus is,"

"The Imperium of Man?" the twin in front of him asked, all form of kindness gone from her tone,

"I only know of due to an interesting group of Imperials," He looked between the two, and both of them gave the other a look, one he couldn't read. But the grip on his flesh hand intensified,

"How can you be so sure they are Imperial?" The twin asked, "Xenos are known for their deception,"

He tore his hand out from her grip. Maybe mentioning Lelith was a bad idea at the moment- especially given that he still didn't know if she was on his side or not, "an Inquisitor, Custodian, Sister of Silence and a Living Saint make their group,"

"Celestine?" the one in front of him gasped, eyes filled with hope, "Our Saint lives again?"

The twin against the cage sat forward, her look one of scepticism, "If you are here, then where is our Saint?"

Ironwood glanced between them and sighed through his nose, "we were investigating a… the Custodian called it a 'Webway' portal when it failed on us… I only remember falling and hitting walls. I awoke sometime later far away from this hell,"

"Then how did you find yourself here?" the twin in front of him asked gently,

"I walked for a few hours and this place seemed to just," Ironwood searched for the words, "appear through fog and mist. I didn't know this is what I would find,"

In hindsight, desperation and fear did rather idiotic things to his mind. The city moved and twisted like a maw searching to devour everything that set foot within it, and he chose to walk right in.

Stupid. He berated himself and focused on the twins,

"If the prayer earlier wasn't obvious enough, I take it you're both these 'Adepta Sororitas' Celestine speaks of?" He asked cautiously as he looked between them,

"In a way, yes…" the closest Twin spoke again, "I am Eleanor, that is my sister, Genevieve…" Eleanor shook her head, "you are not one of us, you would not understand our significance,"

Ironwood shrugged and looked around the jade room outside the cage, "I honestly don't care, if you're friends of Celestine, then you are a friend of mine, especially now," He furrowed his brow, "where did the Wych go?"

"We do not sully our minds with the knowledge of the Xenos language," Genevieve spat, "however, we know the name spoken- Asdrubael Vect, the ruler of this Emperor-damned hell. He holds the reigns on all the creatures here,"

Ironwood tore his eyes away from the tools above a butcher's bench. They knew a lot for people who didn't want to know anything about this place, "How long have you been here for?"

Eleanor hummed, thankfully, of the regular kind, but it still shot shivers up his spine, "we have died and been brought back many times in this place, technically that would mean lifetimes for us,"

"Brought back?"

"These vile creatures use their wicked knowledge to bring people back from death, only for them to be tormented more," Genevieve sighed and rest her head back on a bar of the cage, "we have tried to fight our way out, but they only revelled in the bloodshed and violence. We have tried suicide, but they only bring us back. We are killed over, and over again- used for their wicked games in the arenas and tortures of the mind, body and soul."

"It makes their name far more fitting in a twisted, ironic way," Eleanor let out a hysteric chuckle, "Cult of Strife, they call themselves,"

"Any chance we can kill their leader?" Ironwood asked with a snort, only to receive a disbelieving look from one and a deadpan from the other,

Eleanor shook her head, "We have heard the stories of her, the Wyches enjoy bragging about who they serve, how powerful their leader is and how if she were here still we would know no peace by her hands,"

Of course, they'd brag about the suffering. These beings were nothing more than evil, the torment they enjoyed was nothing short of depraved, and he unfortunately understood it well by now. A certain Wych had taken a liking to him, obsessing over his Aura as it healed his wounds in front of her. Under her blades and nails, he found just how hedonistic they were, finding any and all weaknesses to exploit.

The fact he could heal himself clearly meant something to her, but she never once tried to take him for herself, though she certainly took him each time they were alone against his will. Yet as he learned, thrashing only made it all the more entertaining for the Wych.

"Does she have a title?" Ironwood asked under his breath as he forced the images away,

"Wych Queen," Genevieve answered after a moment, "Queen of Knives-"

The twin went on, listing names he'd heard already.

"But she goes by the name of Lelith Hesperax," Genevieve rolled her neck, "she is Asdrubael's right hand, his closest ally,"

He held a sigh back. The woman always seemed to get somewhere she shouldn't back in Atlas, it made a bit more sense now that her claims of being a queen wasn't just her ego speaking. The woman really was royalty in this twisted city.

Ironwood sat back with a sigh and held his robotic limb to his chest.

The Wych's humming rang in the back of his mind, never leaving.

---

Greyfax nodded to Alexea, "same as last time."

The Silent Sister rolled her neck, cracking it louder than her movements and caused the guards with them to startle.

The Inquisitor paid them little mind- they were doing their job without question or disobedience- whether it was fear or duty that kept them in line was no matter, not for her. The same group of guards allowed the interrogations to go forward without revealing much to the General, so perhaps they held a certain loyalty to her. Loyalty through fear, she supposed.

But Atlas held pride above all- pride in their military, pride in their Kingdom and pride in themselves. Each and every major piece of technology this world used came from the minds of Atlesian engineers, Atlesian factories and Atlesian sellers.

Mountain Glenn, the first major loss of military personnel since the Faunus Wars, sullied that pride- pocked a hole in their reputation of unbeatable military and technological might. To take as many losses as they did against what was looking like a basic foe was something that hurt more than it should. Well, for the Atlesians, it hurt- she knew any engagement meant casualties, no matter the foe.

The guards shared a glance between each other and the male one saluted the Inquisitor as she passed into the interrogation room.

Pride was wounded that day, and many of the soldiers that were there felt it, gaping and bleeding.

So, she let it manifest, weep and coagulate into a rotten vengeance.

The squad of guards feared her, as they should and as she wanted them to, but she gave them one thing so few could- a chance at gaining revenge. Their substantial, wounded pride let them be lost to her bidding by allowing them to take part in her methods of information extraction- even if it was minimally with dragging the prisoners to her.

They were loyal to Ironwood, and it was going to be a hard loyalty to break and twist to her requirements, but groundwork needed to be layered for further power to be held.

But the use of the few followers Celestine had gained in Vale, the survivors from Mountain Glenn, held a malleability the Atlesians did not and the faster they were in their hands, the more likely they were to be moulded into what they needed of them.

There was no doubt in Greyfax's mind that the Saint would take the more fanatic of her female followers and shape them into Sororitas and leave the rest for them to pick at like vultures to a corpse.

She took a step back into the furthest dark corner from the entrance as possible and waited.

The door slid open a few minutes later and the female prisoner was dragged in, the top of her feet dragged against the hard, metal floor while she tried to fight against the Guards' grip. She made to claw at what she could, but only hurt herself as the fresh and barely regrown nails were tugged and pulled at.

But it all stopped as she was strapped to the chair by her arms and legs.

Greyfax tapped the Comm-bead once.

Less than a moment later, a dull, nauseating feeling swept through the room and refused to leave.

The woman fidgeted in her chair, "H-hello?"

"Do you know what it's like to lose grip of your sanity?" Greyfax asked her from behind, still in the darkest and furthest corner, "to feel your mind fracture and shatter?"

The woman gulped, "what? N-no…"

"If I receive an answer I do not like, you will find out," she promised her, "the weapons that were in Mountain Glenn- where are they going?"

"I d-don't know! W-we were sent to get them for Tyrian!"

Greyfax took a breath and tried to focus on the woman's mind, to read her surface thoughts, but even they were hazy and difficult to discern through the Null. It wasn't the highest priority, she knew the answer was going to be the same as all the previous times. The questions weren't meant to gather the information that she already gained.

The last prisoner was a test to see if the plan Kotek and herself made would function as it should. Besides, they couldn't risk a sane prisoner leaving, let alone multiple ones.

And that's where the acquisition of the Sister of Silence came in.

If there was nothing to gain from the enemies mind-

Greyfax tapped her Comm-bead again as she pressed herself into the corner and nausea grew a dozen fold for her, but for the prisoner…

The chair shook with convulsions and fluid spluttered onto the floor until the signal was given- nausea vanished.

"P-please…" the woman pleaded pathetically,

"Answer it how I would like and we shan't have a repeat of that," Greyfax told her disingenuously, covered with a faux tone of sincerity,

-destroy it.

---

"Without Ironwood, the military has no leader,"

"We have the Custodian, Seete,"

"That golden rod?" Sleete scoffed, "the man has an ego to match his size!"

Serpia rolled her eyes, "have you even bothered watching the security footage or videos on the CCTS? The man has every right to be confident of his abilities,"

"Would you say the same thing if he was Faunus, like that whore who is with him?" Sleete fired back, his mouth twisted into an overbearingly smug grin,

Serpia frowned, "that is different. Do not try and derail the subject-"

Greyfax watched the two bickering Council members carefully. Noting everything about them and any possible slip-ups that could be twisted and used, like then. The woman had a history with the Faunus. How negative her views were, remained to be seen, but it could be useful in either getting rid of her or earning her trust- either way, a potential point of blackmail was just gained. if it would be used, she wouldn't know until it had to be.

Sleete on the other hand was an idiot. A smart one, as paradoxical as it was, but he only looked out for Atlas, anything other than Atlas could be left out to starve.

"And her! How and why was she put in charge of the AIA?" Sleete exclaimed with a grand gesture towards the Inquisitor,

Greyfax felt a set of eyes on her. She turned away from the Councilman to Qrow and Glynda, both of whom stared at her in curiosity and caution.

She turned back to Sleete, "because I have proven myself and Marcus is on the loose. Once the General is safely back in Atlas, I will continue my search for the assassin,"

Having a Calladius or even a Vindicare assassin would even nearly every odd in any potential conflict- politically and militarily…

"This is getting out of hand, too much is happening," Sleete said with a grumble, "we're down to two council members running this Kingdom! If that old hag-"

Serpia slammed her palm onto the desk, "Fria is sick, Sleete! She's getting too old for this job,"

That, neither of them was lying about. She'd read the forms the elderly woman wrote, it was the most simple of things that stood out to her the most- lack of control over her punctuation, incorrect dates that went unnoticed and even the change in tone on the letters.

Her mind was starting to slip and used her old Hunter Career as a scapegoat to leave. Why do such a thing when it was clearly acceptable to leave due to performance issues caused by health or otherwise, was a bizarre choice, one she wanted to look into if she had the time to.

"Fria has a long and colourful record as a Hunter, Councilman Sleete," Glynda spoke up, gaining Greyfaxs' full attention. Swiftly, she started probing Hunter's mind as she continued to speak, "While your career is stuck as an Atlesian office. I would suggest you close your mouth,"

Greyfax furrowed her brows and sat back. Time to test what she might have learned, "Cold of you to say such things, Professor."

Such a simple sentence, one that anyone could have said at random, but the brief spike in caution and the mental walls that went up told her all she needed to know.

Glynda glared, "defending him are you?"

She placed a hand on the large table, "not at all, just stating how frosty the atmosphere in here has gotten," I hate this, Greyfax griped to herself, but the dangerous look Qrow gave her now was all worth it. The more confirmations she had, the better, "Fria is no longer on the Council and James is temporarily removed. Infighting is not what we need right now,"

Qrow scoffed, "then where're the others, huh?"

"Celestine is on Terra and should be back soon,"

---

She didn't want to believe what was happening below the Hives on Terra.

It was already a delicate situation with the clear divide between the High Lords and the Lord Commander. Well, as clear as it could be without being a civil war or rebellion against His sons.

Sons. Plural.

The fact that so many of them were crawling out of the woodwork was astonishing; Guilliman's return was met with joy from those who actively saw him, but by suspicion from those further from Terra or Macragge- hell, even some Cadians were grumbling loudly about him not coming to their aid as their planet fell.

Though they were silenced rather quickly as more and more of His sons crawled back and took the charge of Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade.

Yet as hope for the Imperium was at an all-time high from the populous, those from within the Inquisition could see it was being evened out as more and more Chaos Cults rose while Abbadon lurked in the shadows, gathering something to push back with. Rebellions still permeated the furthest worlds and threatened to seep deeper into the Imperium.

And where it concerned her the most, Hive Fleets and Genestealer Cults were becoming more prominent, the T'au threatened to push their borders more, Octarius was coming dangerously close to breaking out of the confined sectors that Kryptman oh-so-delicately set up, and the Aeldari were far more active than ever as the Ynnari gained support across their fractured race.

Though they were not to officially intervene with the Ynnari. Officially, that is.

But that wasn't her issue, not as suspicious activity was rising from the lower Hives of Terra.

Inquisitor Vasmire began raising a wall of steel and fire to contain the threats, so much so that even a Shield-Host was rumoured to be involved. If that were true it would explain the complete reformation and deployment of the Lucifer Blacks and the heightened activity of the Custodes within the Palace.

Not a hall was left empty by the forces that guarded the Palace; always moving, always watching- standing ready and patiently to lay down the Emperor's wrath.

"There's a pattern of increased missing persons reports across multiple Hives and are getting closer to Imperial Palace itself," a rather lispy voice spoke, "Inquisitor Vasmire may have put all his defences in the wrong places, leading to a vulnerability in the Adeptus Custodes' defences,"

She looked up from her report with a patient smile, "the Custodes have been defending the Palace for ten thousand years. I doubt they would be left so vulnerable by a single blunder. Besides, like all the times these Xenocultists have revealed themselves, they do it when we least expect it."

"Yes, yes. Clearly, they have gotten good at this," he nodded, "Horus, unfortunately, wasn't defeated in a day, after all,"

"An unfortunate truth that many ignore," she agreed with a nod, "however, we have the resources to end anything in a timely manner,"

The chime for the door of her chambers rang. Then again less than a second later. It began to ring with impatience that she could almost feel through the door.

She stood with a sigh as she dropped her data slate on her table and waltzed over to the door as she put her best friendly face on. With a breath, she pressed a rune and it slid open to reveal golden armour and blue eyes framed by a black bob cut, "oh, hello,"

"Ordos Xenos?" the woman asked, her impatience clearly not being restrained.

"I am…" she narrowed her eyes, "how do you know that?"

"Captain-General Valoris directed me to you," the woman, who was starting to look familiar, stepped past her into the room, "I require your knowledge on Webway gates,"

She rose a brow at the armoured woman and crossed her arms, "I'm sorry? I already have other missions to deal with,"

"Then consider this a temporary override of your previous orders,"

She startled at the male voice and spun around to the door, "I-how- what?"

The winged woman was somewhat familiar, but everyone knew the man who squeezed himself through the small door designed for Custodes.

Sanguinius smiled as he stood and joked, "I got better,"

"The precautions the Custodes are taking now fit within all accumulated data…"

"Not now, Mott," she hissed to her retinue member and looked back at the Saint with a deep breath, "name what you need, then,"

"Anything and everything to do with Webway gates and the Webway itself," the Saint crossed her arms, "how cold temperatures effect gates, if they do at all; how it works and, most importantly, how to turn one on,"

"Ah, that is a science that the Aeldari know and keep hidden away from prying eyes," Mott butt in, almost oblivious to the look of curiosity from the now very much alive Primarch, "it requires Soul Stones- also known as Spirit Stones- to power and, as far as we have been able to discern, a ritual of some type that is most commonly seen performed by Craftworld Farseers and Bonesingers," Mott took a breath and continued, "however, it is mostly sighted when they are in combat, so it may be a war ritual or tradition since Exodites simply touch a plinth that acts as a control module of some kind."

The Saint stared wide-eyed at Mott for a moment then looked back at her, "how does he know this and not you?"

She shrugged and gave Mott a pointed look, "he didn't give me a chance to start talking,"

"Apologies," he bowed his head and bit his lip,

She turned back with an eye roll at Mott and asked, "What's your name?"

"Celestine,"

She smiled and held her hand out for Celestine to take, "the Living Saint? I've heard about what you've done on Cadia and Macragge… is Inquisitor Greyfax still getting around?"

Celestine took the hand in a much firmer grip than anticipated and tilted her head, "you know her?"

"She's made ripples in the Inquisition that's got many on edge," she stated and let go of the shake with a flex of her hand, "you two made quite a team with that Decius debacle, especially since she's… not too quiet about her opinions on faith,"

Celestine snorted and shook her head gently, "yes, she's a pain but also very good at what she does, so I ignore her barbs,"

"Good choice," she nodded and furrowed her brows, "why cold temperatures exactly?"

Celestine leant back on the desk, "the gate is in the snowy region of the planet, if it's affected by colder climates, I need to know,"

She sat on her bed and crossed her leg over the other, "How cold?"

"Coldest this winter was a recorded negative twenty-eight and their summers are fifteen degrees," Celestine stated, "Snow storms are frequent enough to be every two months or so,"

"If there's a Webway gate, others might be around…" she muttered and glanced up to Celestine with a grin, "I can do better than tell you this information, I can go back with you and help. I have a regiment of Valhallens I can call on as well to help secure any sites,"

Celestine shook her head, "we don't know where the planet is, only I can leave thanks to He on the Throne… and I can't exactly take others with me unless it's my Geminae Superia,"

"Bollocks," she faced Mott, "start writing out everything you know on the Webway gates, I'll make a report on the Webway itself, understood, Mott?"

He nodded dutifully, "of course, mam," and he immediately picked up a data slate and started writing out what was asked of him, occasionally mumbling out bits of information as he went.

"Perchance, do you know of any worlds with a shattered moon?" Sanguinius spoke up, "a vague question, I am aware,"

She shook her head slowly as she shifted through all the known planets with broken moons. Nearly all of them were uninhabitable due to the shifting gravity and debris being pulled in and cracking the planets open at worst, covering the skies with impenetrable dust at best.

"All the ones I know of are dead worlds," she said apologetically, "I gather this one has a moon as such?"

"It does," Sanguinius nodded, as did Celestine.

The Saint paused and turned to the Primarch, "forgive such questions of your knowledge, however- how do you know of Remnant?"

Sanguinius' serine expression fell slightly, "In the old world when Father walked with us, I held the ability to foresee the future, divine the most likely of outcomes and strive towards them against the dark… I still possess that ability, even if it is still out of my control,"

The Inquisitor and Celestine glanced at each other, unsure of what to say to such an admission, "Stick around for a few days and you'll have everything you need, Celestine,"

The Saint nodded firmly, but she seemed to relax a little at the news, "alright, Inquisitor?"

"Amberley Vail, Ordos Xenos," she tilted her head, "I'll call for you both when everything is ready,"

"Then we thank you for your time, Inquisitor Vail," Sanguinus spoke up, startling her again with his presence,

Amberley stood and gave the Primarch a slight bow, "of course, Primarch…" she flicked her gaze up to his, "is that all you require?"

Sanguinius stepped aside to let Celestine out, "for now, yes, but if there is anything else we need from the Inquisition, we shall come to you,"

He said as his farewell before he ducked through the doorway and pressed the rune to close it again,

The moment the door slid back into place, Amberley sat back on the bed with a loud sigh of disbelief at what just happened.

"I take it, you want to go to this planet?" Mott spoke up after a moment,

Vail nodded and held her chin in her palm, "an abandoned Webway gate that's secured by the Living Saint herself?" she asked rhetorically, but remembered who she was speaking to and answered before he could, "this is not something I can pass up, not when I might learn about these 'Harlequins' that is rumoured to get around in the Webway,"

"Ah, yes, 'Harlequin'- a name mentioned only three times by captive Aeldari over the past four millennia," Mott blurted out, "they are surrounded by myth-"

"I know what you do, Mott," she sighed, but it soon turned into a mischievous grin, "have you heard anything about Perlia?"

"The siege was broken a few days ago," Mott told her as he went back to his data slate, "the Commissar killed the Warmaster in a duel,"

Amberley smiled amorously, "age is catching up to him,"

"As it is you, Lady Vail," Mott stated, "but that is the natural cycle of our existence,"

"Yes, yes, Mott," Vail waved him to quiet down, "death shan't have me yet, and I doubt Cain will let it either,"

Unless death offered him some warm Tanna and a quiet place to sleep, that is.

---

Lelith looked far, far more alive and almost… younger. But no less threatening with her posture or glinting blades that now hung off her hip.

Yet, if the Wyches that roamed the halls caught sight of her before Lelith, they'd give her interested looks- the same interest the Kabalite had- and make a move towards her. Every time they did that, Emerald felt her heart speed up as panic set in, almost blinding her and making the now-nonexistent wounds on her hands and arms ache.

Then they'd see Leith just behind her and freeze. Some would take a step back, some others would kneel or bow. But a few just stared brazenly at the Wych Queen; and Emerald noted how they were the younger, less gruelling-looking ones that stood in shock and awe.

Had they never seen their leader before?

The only time they moved was if they were in their way or Lelith explicitly told them to, and if that was the case, they did so without hesitation. Even if there was a ledge behind them.

She had such sway, such power over them that even the most antagonistic of them cowered away.

Emerald adjusted the strange leotard she found amongst the infinite clothes Lelith seemed to have stashed with those mannequins… at some points, she could have sworn they moaned or the eyes actually followed her. But they were mannequins, right?

She wanted to ask Lelith if they were, but she knew the answer she would get would be beyond uncomfortable.

Besides, she was more interested in the bizarre sizing abilities the clothes-makers seemed to have- when she came out with the leotard on, it was a full adult too big for her. But with a click of Lelith's fingers, a Wych and slave came in, took it and left. twenty minutes later, the leotard was her size and a nice, tight fit to make up for the lack of leggings and sleeves.

Apparently, the fabric would stretch with her growth, like a second skin… somehow. It was a thing a lot of Wych suits did, or at least, the expensive ones did.

Lelith did mention that it was one of six or so performance outfits she had, but the one that she started out her fame with was the one with the black mask.

To Emerald, she could barely tell the difference between that one and the current one- they both showed off so much and covered so little that a mask was probably considered conservative for her.

And all of the Wyches around certainly seemed to take after their master to the point that a few just wore nothing, but had the scars and mutilation to show the price they paid for that choice.

"What are they doing?" Emerald gestured subtly to a pair of Wyches by a statue of… Lelith. She had statues of herself. She suppressed the groan at the thing.

Lelith paid them a glance, "a stimulant of some kind," her voice was curt and somewhat disapproving of the action- a strange contrast to her generally aloof tone, "for all they want to imitate me, they barely understand me,"

"Oh…" Emerald averted her gaze from a sneering Wych, "I thought you'd do stuff like that…"

Lelith shook her head and turned her nose up at a group of high Wyches, "the closest to doing any form of drug or stimulants is alcohol, and even that I avoid in large quantities. They need drugs to get even an inch closer to my skill."

"You never ever used any?"

"No. I do not need to," Lelith laughed to herself and some Wyches barely contained their shock at the sound, "many believe my skill is gained through darker means, secret augmentations or alike. The simple truth is that I am naturally better than everyone,"

It sounded so egotistical, so prideful, but from everything over the past day or so, it was completely founded. Everyone bowed to her and followed her words like it was from a god.

And Emerald could see why. Lelith, under any light, was something to look at whether it was grace or fluidity, attractiveness or something else- made her something that so few could take their eyes off her.

Even when she first saw the woman, she thought she was pretty- alluring even. Without a prompt, her eyes would drift over to her. Only the gods knew what the adults thought of Lelith.

Well, that was a lie, she knew they wanted to be with her in bed, but acknowledging it felt weird for her to do, let alone aloud.

"I do not believe I have told you what Commorragh is and was," Lelith spoke as they turned a corner and made their way down the steps,

Emerald shook her head nervously. She wanted to be snarky if only to try and make herself feel better, but the potential price for it kept her mouth firmly closed.

"Commorragh once was a trading post, the largest in the Aeldari empire and the Webway. It was the hub of all trade and traffic from fleets," Lelith explained, "but as the Pleasure Cults rose and the Aeldari looked for more ways to feel extreme emotions,"

"Uh, why?" Emerald tilted her head,

Lelith glanced down at her as she came by her side, "we do not feel emotions like you do; for us, it is stronger- all-consuming… excessive. So when the Aeldari empire was at its height, all basic needs and functions met for a galaxy-spanning civilisation- we got bored. Needed something to ease that boredom and make us feel more than normal.

Murder became assisted suicide, drugs were common and sex was regular in public. Then it grew in size and influence- a combination of the three and more. If you wanted no part in it, you did not have a choice. It was slow, ever persisting and growing. Pleasure Cults became deeply routed within society, formed exclusive groups and gathered in all manners of locations- Commorragh being one of the largest.

One night, the turmoil in the Other-Sea burst forth, tearing a hole between it and reality. The souls of what is estimated to be ninety-per cent of all Aeldari were absorbed and destroyed as their flesh bodies changed into grotesque parodies and their very souls were torn out and devoured.

All while a newborn god laughed at our folly."

Slowly, Emerald blinked and gulped, "how does doing what you do make that?"

She didn't think it was even possible, but as of late, nothing seemed impossible anymore.

"The Warp is an amalgamation of emotions, hopes, dreams and desires- conscious and subconscious," Lelith sighed, "when trillions upon trillions of beings are doing and feeling the same thing, it will start manifesting in the Warp. For us, our hedonistic ways manifested as Sai'lanthresh,"

Emerald nodded slowly, "Right…" she shuffled on her feet, "what are these 'Harlequins' you want?"

"Servants of the Laughing God, Cegorach," Lelith glanced at her, "they are Aeldari, powerful and skilled ones. Their abilities and weapons are unmatched, even by me." Lelith sighed and glanced at Emerald, "I refuse to fight any and the Overlord will drop whatever he is doing to accommodate one. Harlequins are at the top of our food chain and are to be respected in every way possible. And that is excluding the Solitares and Shadowseers,"

Emerald moved closer to Hesperax as a group of Wyches passed by in a mix of awe of their Succubus and dangerous curiosity towards her, "do you get saved from that soul-thing?"

"No, Drukhari are… a special case, we forgo any use of the Other-Sea unlike the Farseers of Craftworlds since Sai'lanthresh has a hold on most of our souls… unless you become a Harlequin or join Yvraine- then the drain It inflicts upon us is blocked by the other god you follow,"

"Oh…" she didn't have a clue what half of what she said meant but nodded anyway. Kotek would explain it better… maybe. Eh, she'd just ask Celestine.

"I've given orders to have as many of the exotic and rare captures to be prepared for the fight to come," Lelith changed the topic as she ran her fingers over a large, blue pauldron with a weird, white 'U' shape on it, "Tyranids, Necrons, T'au and even some Astartes are apart of the list."

"Okay?" Emerald didn't know exactly where this was going,

Lelith glanced at her, "I believe Ironwood is to be thrown out at me as well,"

"Wait, he's here?" she asked softly, "let's get him and go!"

"Go where? I do not know how to get back, I do not think Commorragh was our intended destination. The walls fractured as the gate shut down, and then we fell,"

Emerald tossed her arms out, "don't you live here? How don't you know!?"

"Because the Webway is galaxy-spanning." Lelith deadpanned, "I know my way around the immediate vicinity of Commorragh, I could get you to certain locations- I could get us to Terra, but not to an unknown location like Remnant. That is why I need to draw out a Harlequin, they are the masters of the Webway and Cegorach supposedly knows where each path leads."

"So you have to fight to draw them out?"

"It is the fastest way, otherwise we will never find one." Lelith crossed her arms,

Emerald looked back up at the pauldron and sighed, "what will I do?"

"Stay still under guard by some Wyches," Lelith spoke softly, "I will ensure that they will understand what will happen to them if they or anyone else touches you,"

"You'll kill them, won't you?"

"Yes. Anything less will not stop them," Lelith squatted down to be more level with Emerald, "for them- for me- Commorragh is a playground with nearly no rules,"

Emerald tilted her head, "what are they? The rules?"

"Do not do anything against the Overlord and me," Lelith grinned predatorily, "together, we rule this hell… even if I am growing tired of it,"

She didn't know what to say to that, so, Emerald looked around awkwardly.

The halls were filled with random bits and pieces of strange items, mostly weapons and bits of different armour- large and round gothic pieces of armour sat on some pedestals while sleek, bone-like armour was on others. Then there was scrap and metal over a green beast that twitched slightly as if it were asleep and in a dream.

Hundreds of different pieces of armour were all on display all over the hall; on the walls, over archways and even hanging from the roof.

"Where are we?"

"My collection," Lelith said, "this is everything I have fought and killed in the arenas of Commorragh,"

Emerald's eyes widened as she looked about the massive hall. If her wardrobe was ginormous, then this place was beyond measure. No matter how far she craned her head back, she never found the roof of the building, just more chandeliers and trophies of Lelith's victories.

"Well, not everything," the woman corrected, "If I kept all my kills, even the weakest of them, I doubt I would have somewhere to put them all,"

Emerald looked away from the hanging trophies and to Lelith, "How many things have you killed?"

A small, melodic hum left Lelith, "billions over my life… trillions maybe, I am not entirely sure anymore," she glanced down at Emerald, "my entire career is built upon a mountain of corpses- corpses of anyone who got in my way or was a threat,"

Emerald staggered slightly at the number. She wasn't the greatest at maths, but the number was ludicrously high, "h-how?"

"When a group of ten regular men and women are but an appetiser in combat, slaughtering dozens at a time adds up rather quickly," Lelith explained casually. She ran a finger over another mannequin's chin and it…flinched?

It moved under her caress and Emerald tried so very hard to ignore the image of the mannequins in the wardrobe. She tried to ignore a lot of recent things…

"I have a lot of titles," Lelith continued, either willfully ignorant or genuinely unaware of Emerald's mind working against her, "Lady Death is one of them for a reason."

Emerald swallowed audibly and wiped her eyes dry, forcing everything back with all her might, "I-I figured,"

Lelith turned and looked down at her, "quell the emotions or you will draw more attention,"

"I c-can't," Emerald hiccuped and had to blink away more tears,

"I do not have to hold the Drain back, Ynnead has a claim to my soul now," Lelith knelt down but didn't touch Emerald in any way, "the Wyches and everything else in this city does not have such a boon- you are young, weak and emotional; I have no doubt in my mind that without me, that Kabalite would have went further,"

Emerald shuddered slightly as she stared into Lelith's eyes. She blinked the tears away rapidly, but they didn't stop coming, "I w-wanna leave,"

"And we will," Lelith reassured her, "but you will stay by my side at all times, do as I say and do not interact with anyone else unless you have to,"

She nodded, "I just want Celestine,"

Lelith stood with a sigh, "understandable- she is someone I do not mind being around…" she huffed in amusement to herself, "it helps that she is a pleasant sight,"

"h-her wings are pretty," Emerald agreed with a stutter,

Lelith grinned, "for psychic manifestations, yes, but I meant more about her physically. I have discovered that she does not know how to react when I mention it; it is quite amusing,"

"You just like bullying people," Emerald glared halfheartedly, knowing full well that her irritated eyes ruined any intimidation factor she had, "you like doing it to me a lot,"

"I am being kind by my own standards- you know exactly what I could do to you," Lelith said and turned down the hall of her victories, "come, you once asked how I got my scar, I will show you the culprit,"

Despite the odd amount of kindness Lelith had shown her, she didn't want to particularly go near a self-professed horrible person, but to her, there was a subtle threat in Lelith's words and after the Kabalite, Emerald didn't want to push her luck with Lelith at all.

So, she nodded and followed the woman down the hall, paying full attention to the stories the woman was telling about particular fights so as to not gain her ire and to distract herself.

Though, as Lelith spoke of battles and drama of the Dark City, Emerald felt a small amount of admiration that she didn't know what to do with. She was cruel, but she didn't want to hate her, not entirely, not after she helped her so much.

Lelith hurt her, but she did it for a purpose- to make her better at fighting, not for fun…

Large doors parted as they approached, splitting with a literal groan of pain from the slaves who pulled spiked chains- chains that their hands were fused with. Snapping cartilage and bone sounded as a weak, skinny slave was pulled up into the mechanisms of the door.

Her scream was cut off as the doors continued to open. Cracks cut off her scream and crimson liquid spilled from the mechanisms with bits of crushed bone and flesh.

Emerald stared up in shock at what just happened- it was so random, out of nowhere, but the other Drukhari around barely paid it any attention, even Lelith just kept walking. Emerald bit back the urge to throw up and shook her head as she jogged after Lelith out the large doors to the exterior of the building.

The open-air was wretched, of rot and blood mixed together. The 'skies' were filled with more of the ever twisting buildings and still hurt her head to attempt to comprehend, but this time she could clearly make out the skiffs that zipped effortlessly between them, transporting items and people back and forth across the winding city.

What little light there was hit her skin between the buildings, but unlike the sun Remnant revolved around, this one… this one was so very cold. It sapped away her body's warmth as what felt like worms wiggled across her skin, digging into her flesh and muscle.

"This is the Saint of Blades," Lelith spoke abruptly.

Emerald turned from the chaotic nature of the Dark City before her to Lelith. The woman was gesturing behind her and up at an arch. Chains held a dangling, decayed corpse from the highest point. Metal studs pierced its skill- she vaguely remembered Kotek mentioning them on Astartes, but what they were food eluded her.

"He's dead…"

"Of course, he scared my body and paid the price,"

Emerald looked back at Lelith and the scar across her stomach, "he did that?"

Lelith nodded sourly, "come, I need to prepare the arena for the coming fight,"

---

She glanced up at the Primarch for the dozenth time, unsure if she should let her curiosity out or not.

"What is it, Saint?"

She blinked, only then realising that he was staring back at her. Her face heated with embarrassment and she bit her lip briefly, "how- How are you here? It is said you died on the Vengeful Spirit,"

Sanguinius lost the serine look he held, now a deep frown etched onto his face, "I died, yes. Horus struck me down," he growled out viciously, putting the hairs on Celestine's neck up and struck a cold fear into her heart, "the traitor rent my body so it laid broken on the steps of his pitiful throne when Father arrived, that much I do know."

Sanguinius stopped in his walk and took a deep breath with his eyes closed. He reopened them to reveal the blue that tapestries and stain-glass windows depicted, not the red she'd come to know.

Was this what he really looked like before his death and subsequent revival? Or was this a side the Ecchlesiarchy hid from the Imperium?

If it was one thing she understood well, it was that depictions varied greatly within the Imperium, so few looked identical in the current age and drifted so largely for ancient ones- like the many artworks that showed herself as a darker-skinned woman with different facial features. Artists' styles and the tools available changed things so greatly from what they actually were…

Yet here, now, she doubted this was the case with the Primarch. But the fear from his growl remained.

"I knew what outcomes there were from my brother's treachery, I ensured the best of them came to fruition as best I could," Sanguinius continued quietly, "yet the best of them was this."

Celestine glanced up at him, unsure entirely of what to do or say, "there is something that has been around for centuries, it is a proverb that made its way around the halls of the Imperiums' lowest of people and wealthiest of Governors," she cleared her throat, "It is not the descent toward the shadow nor the rise toward the light that makes us superior-"

Sanguinius chuckled bitterly, "It is the endless struggle between the two that greatness of character lies. We are tested, and we do not break." he shook his head, "I remember teaching the Ninth that lesson,"

The Primarch looked to the large pillars of his brothers and Astartes alike, "had we more time, we could have embedded the very meaning into everyone who dwelled within the Imperium, perhaps many more would understand it and its meaning," he looked back to Celestine, his eyes distant and back to their mix of red and blue, "perhaps things would not have become what they are,"

"We…" Celestine sighed and ran her tongue across the back of her teeth, "we can not change the past, but the future of humanity and your Father's Imperium lies in the balance,"

"It has been tipping for a long time now," Sanguinius stated, "even that I can see,"

"I am not blind to the Imperium's faults," Celestine admitted with a sigh, "I see the faults, more now than ever, but we can not let it die,"

With a deep breath, Sanguinus nodded, "we-"

A deep, thunderous crack burst the stain-glass windows and kicked hundreds of years' worth of dust-up.

Celestine barely had time to comprehend the start of the detonation, let alone the speed with which Sanguinius shielded her with his body and wings, clutching her to his armoured chest. Shards of glass and stone rained down, blinding the few Lucifer Blacks that were scattered around the area and spurring the Custodes into action.

In a blink, Sanguinius had released her and spun around, a golden flash of light shone from his hand. Within, sparks formed a large, ornate spear.

"Brother!"

Sanguinius paused and did a faint double-take at the spear in his hand and the voice in the dust, "excuse me?"

Celestine kept her hand on the hilt of the Ardent Blade, watching to see if the being calling Sanguinius 'brother' was a threat or not. If Fulgrim was once a Primarch, any of them could have turned…

"Oh…" she muttered to herself, an epiphany raging through her mind to distract her from the large, green Primarch that now stood before them.

His hammer sparked with arcs of energy, as did his armoured fist. Blazing red eyes scanned the halls cautiously before they happily fell on Sanguinius, "I do not know how you live, but it is good to see you!"

Before either of them knew what was happening, Vulkan dropped the hammer on its head, the grip pointing to the sky, and wrapped his arm around Sanguinius. What few Custodes that were around stood down, but never once left the area. As cautious and ready as always with Anathema Psykana reinforcing them.

"Vulkan?" Sanguinius lowered his spear, only for it to fade away, "I… what are you doing here?"

"I bring…" the Primarch lost the wondrous joy he held to a look of despair as he took a step back. He took his hammer in his hand again, "I bring tragedy, brother,"

Celestine took a step forward, next to Sanguinius and realised just how much larger Vulkan was compared to his Primarch Brothers, "what type of tragedy, Lord Vulkan?"

He set his blazing eyes on her, "toll the Bell of Lost Souls, six times,"

"Why six?" Sanguinius asked, "what happened, Vulkan?"

In response, the Primarch of the Salamanders held out his other, massive hand. In it were two things; a large, oversized pauldron and a shattered obsidian sword, "we have found Leman, brother. The Wolves of Fenris are being notified as we speak,"

She had no doubt that Trajan was aware of what was happening, as the Custodes around them watched on, most definitely relaying the information.

Sanguinius placed a hand over the wolf's head on the Pauldron and closed his eyes in mourning, "even after all these years, Horus is getting what he wanted,"

"Horus is dead." Vulkan spat, "he was not as cunning as he thought he was in the end, and his brutality only turned more against him,"

Celestine gulped and straightened her posture as she held the Aquila to her chest, "how did he perish?"

The question felt blasphemous to speak, stating one of His sons was dead. Yet here were two of those same sons, mourning.

Vulkan growled and clenched his fist around the shaft of his hammer. It groaned under the pressure, but did not break, "Magnus would not revel in the kill by crucifying Leman to the wretched symbol of Chaos Undivided,"

"Lorgar." Sanguinius opened his eyes, "It was Lorgar,"

Vulkan nodded, "I thought as much, only he would turn his own brother into a plinth of foul worship,"

From there, their conversation was drowned out as the foundations shook as a bell rang loud and clear across Terra six times, no more, no less. The Guardsmen around froze in their duties, as did the Custodes, yet where the demi-gods of the Emperors will remained ready to strike, they knelt with Aquilas to their chests in prayer.

If she listened closely, she could hear the faint sobs from a few of them.

She couldn't blame them, for all the gains that had been made in the past years, tragedy after tragedy set them back. And for the first time since the end of the Heresy, another Primarch was lost.

Celestine straightened, "only in death does duty end,"

Vulkan looked down at her, his red eyes scanning her form, "that it does, yet we few know that even death can not stop a determined soul,"

"Where did you find him?" Sanguinius queried softly, appearing to not want to push too hard,

The Lord of Drakes turned back, "Kerrack, on the edge of the rift. My Legion and the Planetary Defence Forces are attempting to repel a Chaos incursion backed by Daemons," He held out the broken sword and pauldron for his brother to take, "I must rejoin them, the fight is due to intensify,"

"Intensify how?" Celestine took a step forward, "I may aid if you wish,"

"No," Vulkan shook his head as Sanguinius took the item reverently, "the Conqueror is being tracked and theorised to enter the engagement soon,"

Sanguinius swore under his breath, "is she still commanding the vessel?"

"Unknown, but if Commander Sarrin is one with the ship, she will burn along with it," Vulkan promised lowly, his eyes tracking something behind them, and with a brief glance behind herself, she found nothing more than a select few Custodes and Anathema Psykana,

"How-" Celestine turned back, -"exactly did you get here?"

Vulkan lifted his enormous hammer into both hands and twisted a section of the arm. With it, energy built in the shaft and head with an audible hum and vibration she felt through her armour. He twisted it back and with a snap, he was gone- leaving behind a space for air and dust to violently fill.

Sanguinius hefted the items gently. His voice was even softer, "I am taking this to Leman's old quarters,"

"Very well," Celestine nodded gently as the back of her eyes stung gently, "I will leave you alone, if you wish,"

"Solitary will change nothing," Sanguinius muttered but gave her a small nod of appreciation, "you may follow,"

Tentatively, Celestine did exactly that, entirely unsure if she even should.

---

"Are you sure it went this way?" Lelith resisted the urge to sigh-

Emerald nodded, "y-yeah,"

-though the urge overwhelmed her, and released the frustration in a deep sigh before she looked around. Only two Wyches were so deep in the Crucibael, both of which appeared to be in four or five different realities at once- giggling and stumbling over each other as they followed imaginary hallucinations.

How low had some members come? Four years away and this is what happens- a once great and prideful Cult diminished to tweakers needing their fix… like the rest of the city in one way or another.

Lelith turned back to the girl, "lead, then. Those Wyches will be dead in the hour,"

"Wait, what?" Emerald tilted her head, a small sliver of what she normally was like shining through the nerves and terror she radiated.

"Overdose. The Wyches are young, and will die young." She nodded down the hall, prompting Emerald to go, "or the Mandrakes will feast upon them if another Wych or Kabalite do not first,"

There it was again, the spike of fear in the girl. The Wyches made her jolt and shiver when they gave her any attention, but the odd Kabalite they came across- usually one of the Black Heart- or mentioned, she would try to make herself as obscure as possible.

Though the advice on quelling her emotions did not work as intended, the girl attempted to put her best 'brave face' on, as she called it. It was a pitiful sight, one that simply made her all the more tempting for other Wyches to break completely. Only her presence prevented Emerald from becoming another victim of Commorragh; the Wyches knew not to dare cross their Queen.

Something she appreciated, yet despised. They were all beneath her, undeserving of the attention they were given.

Lelith refocused on the halls, extravagant ones by Emerald's standards, but nothing more than home for herself. Hundreds of thousands of times had she walked Commorragh, quadruple as much for the arenas of the city. For all it shifted and changed, physically and politically, she knew where to go, how to get there and where it was. She was the Wych Queen, the rumoured confidant and concubine of Asdrubael Vect, a reputation earned by blood and debauchery.

Being a servant was below her, once she served as one, never again.

She knew what she was, who she was and was proud of it- from her mind to her body she loved it all. Nothing else could match it, nothing surpassed her. She was her own being, not one of the whores who lapped up whatever an Archon or Succubus dropped.

Lifetimes were lived at the top, amongst the glamour and power of control. Absolute control.

With it came all the experiences she ever wanted, no, needed.

Needed.

So many emotions, thrills and ecstasy brought by the twisted minds of her kind were lived with only a handful never to be experienced. On principle, body modification was something she loathed, and she knew it eliminated an entire path of emotions to feel. But if it cost her her body, then it was something she could live without.

"Have you found it?" she asked the girl idly,

"No, it ran away again, it went through this door crack,"

Lelith blinked and faced Emerald. The girl was on her hands and knees, peering through a small gap in a door. She tugged Emerald up and placed her to the side. Motioning her to stay there, Lelith gently opened the door.

Dust and ash of ancient corpses filled the air, sparkling under the light from the hall. It wasn't a large room, just one with a few ornate boxes and racks filled with weapons. None of them was particularly special, with the only one being somewhat eye-catching was the Razorflail dangling from a hook in the wall.

But for the girl, the thing that caught her attention the most was a mangy, black-and-white Gyrinx kitten. It had to be no older than a human month with how small it was.

The tiny creature backed itself into a corner, hissing pathetically as it shivered in fear.

Emerald slowly made her way forward, though her nerves and restlessness were on display with the jitters, before she sat down in front of the animal.

Lelith backed away as she watched the girl put her hand out.

Scared and afraid. The animal and girl. But the hope that slowly rose in the girl as the animal's patchy fur settled increased the curiosity from the animal itself- a self-fulfilling cycle. It wasn't a blazing emotion, but a subtle one that lingered between the anxiety and fear in the girl.

Distracting from the simmering terror at her surroundings, though there was something beneath that, it burned low and intensely and showed only when the Kabalites were brought up or seen. Unlike the other emotions that flowed off the girl, this one wasn't directed outwards or at anything, instead, it remained inside.

Ugly, diseased, repugnant.

Simple terms for simple beings, but accurate nonetheless.

Lelith found her gaze upon the Razorflail, idly lingering over its perfectly shaped teeth and wrapped handle. With a glance down at Emerald to find the kitten in her arms, but more than alert to its surroundings, Lelith found the smallest amount of joy in the two.

An emotion barely found in any of the denizens of Commorragh, not in an innocent form. Sadistic joy in killing and torture was easy to come by, but not the hopeful kind before her.

Though it was washed away as fear seeped back in, destroying it entirely.

And for whatever reason, Lelith found she wanted it back.

"Are you done for the day?"

Lelith tilted her head, "the Wyches know their place and all of Commorragh know I intend to perform, so yes,"

Emerald got to her feet slowly, trying not to scare the Gyrinx. When she turned to face her completely, the whites of Emeralds eyes were found to be an irritated red and watery, "can- can we go back to your room?"

"Of course," she nodded, "what of the Gyrinx?"

Emerald looked down at the animal briefly, "I wanna keep him… I like him,"

Lelith nodded slowly, "very well,"

And that simple act reignited the inkling of joy.

"I do not believe I have told you of Helions," Lelith started slowly and Emerald paid close, cautious attention, "Commorragh is home to anything you desire and seek, filled with entertainment of all kinds… even types you will find easy to digest,"

Emerald nodded, "uhm, what are the Helions?"

"Something I moonlighted as once, a profession and artistry I have a modicum of respect for," she crossed her arms, a slightly self-satisfied smirk on her face, "perhaps, a race is something you will enjoy,"

"What do they do?"

"Races. Not in the-" she waved her hand dismissively- "dull kind found in Remnant,"

Emerald furrowed her brows, "but they have Grimm sometimes, how're Helions cooler than that?"

And curiosity replaced all else, pushed the terror to the side, and made it easier to handle. A product of hyper fixation, a necessary requirement to keep her going.

If it was one thing the Helions were spectacular at, it was catching attention with their acrobatic stunts. Well, as far as she was concerned, they were spectacular to people who never gazed upong grace personified.

"Come and witness them, then tell me after tomorrow who is the most spectacular to watch," Lelith grinned, "the Helions or myself,"

Emerald levelled a blank stare at her and hugged the kitten a little closer as fear spiked, but she hid it decently well.

She turned on her heel and waved for the girl to follow after her, "Put the animal in my quarters, it will be far, far safer there,"

"Are you sure?"

Lelith spun around and walked backwards with an annoyed frown, "any who dare enter without explicit permission from myself, and only myself, will not enjoy their time there,"

Emerald nodded, her eyes widened slightly and the fear reeked off her once again.

The Succubus turned back and continued walking normally. Emerald quickly brushed up against her as they ascended back up the gargantuan structure. For anyone unfamiliar with the Crucibael, moving around it would be a timely and dangerous endeavour for traps and deadends littered the inner workings of the arena.

But scattered along the routes she led them down, Incubi stalked while they themselves had shadows of their own. In the darkest recesses where light refused to go, the nightmares of Aelindrach bent the darkness to their will.

Yet they only watched with sickening green eyes as Lelith led Emerald back.

Waiting, watching.

The Incubi, to anyone other than a member of her kind, simply cared less about her existence. But their minute movements in their neck and arms harkened back to watching every move she made carefully. An act that sent Emerald's nerves to their edge as she clutched the animal tighter, something it appeared to appreciate.

Incubi were not an uncommon sight, not to the Wych Queen at least- Archons, other Succubi, Scourges and the Overlord Himself were regulars in her time. All knew she was easily the biggest threat when in the room, that whatever caught her fancy at the time was just as deadly as angering her.

Not that it stopped many from wishing to die by her blades or other deranged fetishistic wishes.

Yet nothing made her sigh internally in frustration than finding Wraks and Incubi loitering outside her open door, not a Wych in sight.

With a firm grasp, she took Emerald's shoulder, digging her nails into the skin just enough to hurt, but not activate her Aura.

The girl squirmed under the grip with a wince, "W-what are they?"

Lelith side-eyed her, "what have I told you about silence, Mon'keigh?"

Emerald snapped her head up, "you di-"

"Silence," Lelith growled down at her, "or would you prefer I remove your tongue?"

Emerald's eyes watered as pure fear washed over her.

Good.

With the same hand on Emerald's shoulder, Lelith roughly guided her into the chamber.

"Causing discontent, is she?"

Lelith tilted her head and responded in the same, harsh-yet poetic lexicon her kindred spoke, "of course, all new slaves do,"

At the end of her bed, seated comfortably, Asdrubael Vect sat with a wine glass in hand. Donning his usual armour and blank, expressionless face. The Overlord of Commorragh drank from the wine glass,

"Learning who their superiors are is always an entertaining point to teach," he crossed a leg over the other, "what brings you back to Commorragh?"

"Entertainment and business," Lelith released Emerald and the girl scampered back into the corner between the bath and wall, "last I was aware of was that the Astartes, Lucius the Eternal, was making ground within the Webway,"

"She Who Thirsts has a puppet sustained in here?" Asdrubael rose a brow, his black eyes resting on Lelith's own. Gone was a certain aspect within them, so much missing from dark voids, replaced with far more maleficent motives. No longer was there the appraising glint when he looked at her- just cold emptiness that sent shivers up her spine,

"Given the breach with Khaine's Gate, that is of no surprise," his voice was as level and devoid of emotion,

Lelith turned around and pulled the doors shut as she spoke, "it is rumoured, but I wish to confirm it myself. So I am now murdering two tasks at once,"

"Entertainment and business," Asdrubael chuckled as he swirled the glass of deep red wine, "you have changed very little,"

With a flourishing spin around, she bowed her head in respect as she walked up to her bed, "thank you, Overlord,"

The man shook his head, "not Overlord, not anymore," he grinned maliciously, "Dark Muse now. But that is not what I meant- things are changing, more than I have seen in a considerable amount of time. To see something remain the same is… refreshing, in a way,"

"Are you trying to say my looks have not degraded?" Lelith smirked slightly as she leant a little closer,

Asdrubael blinked slowly with the faintest uplift of the corners of his lips, "not at all, Lady Hesperax." he sighed through his nose as he placed the bottom of the wine glass on his thigh, "the Kabalites, why did you kill them?"

"They saw my absence as a weakness and tried to capitalize upon it," Lelith shrugged, "I merely gave them the consequences they deserved,"

Asdrubael nodded. He sipped from his glass slowly and audibly.

The action bristled her nerves more than she liked to admit. It always had to a degree, but with the man now claiming to be a Dark Muse, it just screamed 'pretentious'.

"You are rather possessive of what is yours," he nodded over her shoulder. She knew he gestured to Emerald in the corner. It wasn't a surprise for Asdrubael to already know what happened, even with Scourges being one of the few reliable lines of communication…

The Scourge, was it one of his? Likely….

"I will not consider this as a violation of our treaties, but please try not to kill my Kabalites,"

Lelith sat back on her elbows with a scoff, "If I am threatened in any way, substantial or not, I will kill them,"

The Dark Muse stood as he finished his glass off, "I wish I could stay and watch your performance… actually, for a real-space raid, how much would it cost?"

"I am not in for a raid, as much fun as they are," Lelith turned him down, "not now at least,"

"Very well," Asdrubael turned away and made his path to the doors, "I may be able to attend your show, have fun with your little one,"

He waved goodbye over his shoulder and slammed the doors open, yet closed them gently with a bow back at Lelith.

As suddenly as he came, Asdrubael Vect was gone.

Lelith fell back with a sigh, "I doubt you will see him again,"

"I wanna go home,"

She rolled her eyes as she turned her head to look at Emerald. The girl had tear streaks running down her face as she clutched the kitten to her chest as if her life depended on it.

So easily broken, not easily mended. Children….

Unfortunately for me, unless I want another immortal hunting me down, she is my problem. And strangely, she didn't find much of a problem with that thought.

Though she did want to watch some Helion races. With a glance at Emerald, she suspected that it wasn't happening any time soon.

---

"Branwen,"

Qrow piqued up and faced the newcomer. Familiar ornate armour blocked his view of the Bullhead pad, "where have you been?"

Kotek gestured out to the plains, "searching the abandoned mines. If they wanted it before, perhaps they may have run there for cover,"

"Take it they didn't?" Qrow snorted with a bitter look, "how the hell did we allow this?"

Kotek glanced up at the approaching Bullhead, then back to the Hunter, "we grew negligent through inactivity, believed that beating back the few moments of chaos would rid the problem, instead of delay it,"

Qrow furrowed his brows, "what happened to your weapon?"

"Damaged. Celestine is getting a new one,"

"Let me guess, from another planet?" he spoke sarcastically, but was met with a nod,

"Terra." Kotek watched the Bullhead land behind the Hunter, "I will be seeing the Council, and arranging doctrines,"

"For what?" Qrow shivered as the cold intensified suddenly. The Custodian never even noticed the change in temperature.

"Everything that needs improving,"

The giant wasn't wrong, a lot needs to be fixed and improved- not just in Atlas either. If such threats could be made from the helpless, why not try and help as many as they could instead of sitting behind the Kingdoms' walls?

It gave Salem far too many to pull from and twist.

Kotek turned without a word, ending the conversation abruptly to meet the Inquisitor who eyed Qrow down with unadulterated hatred that even the prosthetic eye she had emitted without restraint.

It appeared that she was throwing all her toys out of her cot now that she got nothing out of him.

Qrow rolled his eyes at her, but he froze as the cold eased the moment she turned away from him, smirking dangerously the entire time.

"Ignore her!" Glynda shouted over the roar of the engines, "we have to try and find James!"

He shook his head and jogged up to the Bullhead. As he hopped up into the Bullhead, a small, dark part of him wondered just what was happening with the General.

---

It was a game.

A twisted game, yet he was petrified to blink. The very notion made his stomach churn and the urge to close his eyes so much harder to resist.

But that's what the Wych wanted. He knew it was, it was why he was here naked and bleeding from cuts on his body. Long ago had his Aura drained- how long ago was it, exactly? More than a few hours at this point, probably a day or two even.

That thought made his eyelids too heavy to hold open and before they closed fully, a sharp, burning pain ran up his chest.

Ironwood hissed out a grunt, though it sounded more like a whimper. One that the Wych giggled at the hearing.

Her voice was nothing like Hesperaxs', not as soft in tone and level, or as velvety to the ears. No, but this one was still no less beautiful in a haunting way. She was beautiful, but the depravity that lurked within destroyed anything close to beauty, making her look more like a cheap copy of her Succubus.

The fact that even now, through the pain and knowledge gained in such a short time, he could still view Hesperax as beautiful really proved her own ego right.

"Dreaming of better times?" the Wych hummed as she traced over open wounds, causing him to jolt, "your tongue is an insult to my vocals, but I still speak it… for you,"

Ironwood opened his eyes again, only to inwardly scream at opening up another 'round' of the game she wanted him to play.

He was tired, so incredibly tired.

"I wouldn't call what I was thinking of 'better'..." he found his voice a slur of syllables tha barely made sense,

The Wych tilted her head and continued to run her fingers over his body. For whatever reason, her eyes seemed to light up, "oh, please, enlighten me,"

Before he could stop himself, he obliged, "I was thinking of Hesperax,"

Over the Wyche's shoulder, the other workers and slaves gave him an odd look, similar to the one that the merchant gave him…

"Our Mistress is above you,"

"I am also behind you,"

It was then that they held a mutual understanding, that their fates were rather close to becoming one and the same. The Wych stepped aside rigidly, as terrified of the Wych Queen as he was.

"General."

The title set his mind into overdrive for whatever reason, perhaps he didn't believe she was there, just a hallucination or something. But with her speaking his rank, it solidified her presence more than her image.

"Good to see you are alive," she leant forward and tapped on the restraints that held him up, "you will need another hand,"

"Fuck you," Ironwood spat with a growl,

She tisked and straightened up, "do what you want with him but keep him alive for the arena. I will have a Haemonculi repair his hand,"

His brows rose while his heart fell, "Arena? I'm fighting?"

"If you want to live, yes." Lelith grinned, tha action startling the other Wych, "But not to worry, General, you may become my plaything and I am known to treat them well,"

"Then let me out so I can rip your head off!" He screamed, "you led us here, you opened that gate!"

"Opened, yes. However, I did not know Commorragh was close by at the time," Lelith shrugged, "I must be going, I have the meat to feed on now," she ran a finger over his jawline, "see you in the arena,"

The woman stood and turned on her heel. With confident struts, she left the large room but not before snatching up a cloth filled with bloody meat. Leaving him in the clutches of an all too curious Wych in anxious wait for the 'Haemonculi' to fix his hand.

He didn't know what it was going to do to fix it, the hand itself was missing and probably to never be seen again.

The Wych stepped in front of him with a hum and tilt of her head, one that jolted his nerves more than he cared to admit. So she hummed again.

He shuddered involuntarily.

Gentle or not, the invasive, yet melodic humming started up once more, this time from a completely different Wych.

---

A/N:

Very late and past my original planned date of release, but hey, I needed a small break to do mind-numbingly boring stuff to relax. I struggled to write this chapter and took a full day to come up with a title.

Celestine is making more connections than she ever thought, Lelith is figuring out a disgusting thing called 'emotions' and Emerald and Ironwood are straight up not having a good time.

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Reviews:

Monster King: Thanks!

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Saitama1155: He has, in fact, had his 'oh fuck' moment. He's continuing to have it, actually.

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TheRightPrice: There's going to be more to Ozpin's bullshittery a bit later when the gang is back together.

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BloodRedRoses11: I'm glad the quality is good, I just hope this one is just as good, lol.

As for Ironwood- could he beat Kabalite Warriors in a fight if he wasn't surprised? Yeah. would he come out unscathed? Hell no, he'd win but it would cost a lot of time, energy and effort. Besides, he lost due to surprise, weaker weaponry- and being outnumbered. Will admit, I am a bit biased towards Drukhari, they're my second favourite faction. But I see your point and am conscious of it when writing fights. Worfing anything isn't fun.

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187: Aleya had a small cameo before this- she was the one that got the executioner's blade that Alexea now has. But yes, she's a really fun character to read. So much sass.

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Nesthor5000: He's also the definition of 'Road to hell…' or, another way to view him, that's totally headcanon- is that he's a naive man trying to force perfect ideals on an imperfect world. That despite the unwinnable fight against Salem, he still tries in a well-intentioned way, to make the world a better place but doing so makes it a bit worse.

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Something1245: The reason why Em has a borderline obsession with Celestine comes from the fact that her canonical counterpart was the same with Cinder, I've taken that and tried to use it to form a somewhat healthier relationship between them. Though, I do see your point and keep it in mind going forward.As for Lelith. Let's be real, her character in canon is as thick as the codex page it's written on. She's quite dull and really a one-note character in lore- kill thing, look good, go fight and win because of plot. She's not the hardest to write if you keep to her canonical depictions, but that makes her boring as all hell.

Hence the strange sass, bluntness and all-around gremlin childishness she has here, it allows her to do one thing she, as a character in lore, has never felt besides anger, hatred and vanity- every other emotion.

So what's stopping her from turning on them? She's caught emotions, and for any Aeldari, that's dangerous. Their emotions bur twice as bright as those humans and felt even harder by the Aeldari. The freedom to do whatever she wants without the scrutiny of Asdrubael and all other Succubi and Archons, no Daemons, no Imperium or Craftworlds.

Just whatever she wants, when she wants, and if being around a few Mon'keigh is the price to pay, then she'd take it. Totally not because she might be starting to like them a little.

But she isn't losing the Drukhari edge, she can leave that life behind, but she won't, her ego won't let it fade away- only distance herself slightly.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, lol.

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Fenasi: well, thank you! And don't worry, I won't be dropping this.

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NervousRice: my mans will need a long fucking break, that's what he'll need… and a lot of therapy.