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.

28. Revelations

Revelations

---

The fierce red gales of Baal howled over plain and tundra alike before coming to die against the tall wall of beleaguered bulwarks and strongholds that had endured since the foundation of the Imperium. These historied and proud walls had long ago been peeled of any colour they had, yet the artistry of the sons of Baal could not be denied, still evident in the many masterwork sculptures and carvings on display, the quality of which would doubtlessly give raise to feelings of inadequacy and inferiority on the master artists of a thousand worlds.

Brass and gold had long oxidized under the radiation of the system's star, rendering the Imperial Aquila green and brittle, yet the proud banners of countless campaigns, heroes and martyrs continue to fly high, a glorious sight that would announce the Chapter's glory-bathed history to anyone who came to the call.

A history of honour and bravery that he knew their Father would commend.

At first sight, the heavens above appeared full of moving stars, yet there was no romantic starry sky. No, for those were in fact the lights of hundreds, if not thousands of Astartes vessels bearing the marks of Blood Angel Successor Chapters.

Indeed, a casual observer may confuse the sight for a meteor shower of truly unimaginable proportions as hundreds of thunderhawk transports ferried thousands of Astartes to their designated posts in their progenitor Chapter's defenses, while all available Auxila forces patrolled the plains and skies.

Near-continuous hit-and-run tactics on the enemy succeeded only in slowing it down, yet successfully bought ever-so-precious time for the children of the Great Angel, allowing his children to reinforce their Father's homeworld.

Excommunicated or not, every son of Sanguinius had answered the call, rusing to defend their Father's home.

And yet, despite a sight that swelled his heart to burst with pride, a sight that should so rightly shatter the confidence of any enemy of man, Dante couldn't help but feel that it wouldn't be enough. The designation of Xenos Horribilis' wasn't there to satisfy the dramatics of a Magus Biologis; it was a well-earned title, and every report of every encounter with the Tyranid fleet only cemented its designation of 'Leviathan'. Its approach, all-consuming and all-devouring, leaving a barren trail of wasteland in its wake.

And yet, every chapter of the Blood was here, ready to stand against the tide. Together for the first time in imperial records, their combined numbers almost enough to emulate the legion of old.

Almost.

"Who has yet to come?"

Dante turned from the bulwarks and its continuously increasing defenders towards the tall figure by his side, "the Lamenters; they have not the numbers to aid us in this fight," Dante replied, his voice a battle clarion despite coming from behind his father's Death Mask, "you are not here for pleasantries, are you, Mephiston?"

The Chief Librarian shook his head, "The Spear is gone."

The Chapter Master froze, his mind coming to a screeching halt as the words sunk in. Only one would dare commit such sacrilege-

"We all watched the pyres burn Akio," Dante mused slowly, "was there a presence you could sense?"

Mephiston nodded, "Neither malevolent nor tainted; rather, it was a gentle calling- like a poet's whisper, almost. It was a call from across the Immaterium; a beckoning it to heed,"

"You would not have known whom or what had called for it? How about a where?" At Mephiston's gentle head shake, Dante bit back a sigh, "then this is no longer about mere survival, because once this is over, once we have prevailed over these… things, we MUST sail forth and find the Spear of Telesto,"

"As you decree, so it shall be, Chapter Master," Mephiston glanced out to the plains and back at the Arx Angelicum, "But take solace in this truth; the presence that made the call… it belonged; a long-lost puzzle piece that has once again found its place…"

Behind his Father's Death mask, Dante's eyebrows rose and he blinked, genuinely surprised for the first time in too long a time. "Are you implying-"

"I am, yes." Mephiston cut off his Chapter Master, "Perhaps it was the Sanguinor, perhaps it was the Emperor Himself… I have heard of the Sororitas 'Living Saints', and know it is not impossible for such miracles of faith to be based in fact,"

"Whoever dares summon our Father's weapon will die, lest the call has been blessed by the Emperor Himself."

"Agreed,"

"Break, Break, Break!" suddenly, the Vox chimed, cutting through and silencing all background chatter immediately, "Contact runes all across the outer rim of the system. Contact with all scouting vessels has been lost… Hivefleet Leviathan has entered the System,"

As if their eyes could pierce the sea of stars, every son of Sanguinius on the planet turned towards the sky, their eye lenses glimmering with anticipation as hundreds of Astartes battle barges reoriented themselves towards the incoming foe and began to raise their void shields with the near instantaneous response that could only be expected from Astartes crews.

Planet-side, void shields and anti-orbital defences both ancient and new hummed to life under the guidance of thousand of deep-space scanners under the careful management of hundreds of Techmarines, scanning the skies while the Chapters of the Blood made final preparations, the star shower that was hundreds of thunderhawks redoubling in speed and intensity as every available Astartes was rushed to the surface and into position.

The clock signaled a minute to the Fall of Baal.

"I will see to the Librarians and aid where needed,"

"Go and fight for our Father's world," Dante closed his eyes and took a breath. Upon opening them, halls large enough to house Warlord Titans now stood around him and crumbled against an encroaching black mass that snuffled out the light. Disembodied cries and phantom Bolter shots echoed distantly, savagely. Desperately.

Commander Dante stretched an armoured hand, and a single white feather fell gently unto his open palm in clear defiance of the gale winds that tugged on his billowing cloak, shrouding him in red sand.

He opened his eyes, really opened them, and gazed over the sands of Baal once more. This time lit not by the sun, but by the flames of battle all across the stars.

---

Sienna gazed upwards at the enormous, man-shaped demigod for a moment. Her eyes dared not linger on his visage, and promptly turned to the incredible artistry of his armour, roaming from one awe-inspiring decoration to the next without letting their masterful artistry trick her into seeing the whole for anything but the glorious monument to conflict that it was. Even encrusted gems were but well-disguised artifice and reinforcement, and her keen senses could literally feel the hum of power behind their civilized facade.

She lingered for another moment on his sun-kissed golden mane, and her eyes turned away. The beautiful scenery of her home seemingly magnified by the giant's presence, as if his aura bathed the beach in glory and summoned the waves to the sands under his feet.

"You may speak, I will not harm you," He said, his voice a calm yet profound sound that effortlessly demanded the attention of anyone who'd hear it.

"What are you?" she blurted out before she could stop herself,

Sanguinius rose a brow down at her, "I can ask the same to you. However, I am but a loyal son to my father, and the proud father of my children."

Sienna nodded slowly, "Right… isn't that a bit too vague? I guess it does say that you're serious about your family, but that doesn't really say much about what I want to know. What exactly does that mean?" a giant-sized winged faunus in golden armour, with blood-red gems encrusted within. Because that was surely a thing you'd find on any normal night, right? Then again, this wasn't a normal night anymore.

"Exactly as it sounds," Sanguinius hummed thoughtfully for a moment, "many would tell you I am a great many things, fully convinced of the veracity of their words. They'd tell you I am a fabled creature of light, a saint or even a monster in human form; but I continue to be as I am, a son and a father all the same."

His responses were… vague, to say the least. It was as if the giant avoided what his true purpose was, or wanted her to arrive at her own conclusions. Frankly, it raised more questions than she considered necessary. It reminded her of a politician dancing around an issue in an attempt to avoid responsibility, and spewing non-committal platitudes without real meaning along the way. If anything, it made the man more confusing to think about. Hell, he already looked like a divine servant to the God of Light… and that implied that the Gods were real…

She shook her head and tried not to stare at his wings, "…then what do you need me for?"

"Asking a civilian to aid me was obviously the incorrect choice, so I sought out the leader of the settlement, and its guards were kind enough to lead me to you." Sanguinius explained easily,

Sienna rose a brow and carefully moved back a couple of steps as she lifted her gaze to meet his own. It wasn't because she was intimidated by the giant's calm demeanour, but simply because of the vast difference in their height, "and what aid can I provide?

"I hoped for assistance in travelling to even greater settlements, and hopefully, information; specifically on where I may find someone I am looking for," Sanguinius spoke kindly, but with a somewhat old-fashioned choice of words and style, yet his voice was rich and smooth to her ears. His request helped clear her mind of enough shock and awe for her to furrow her brows slightly, her ears flicking forth as she considered the situation.

She hummed. It wasn't hard to figure out whom he wanted to find… there were only two others in golden armour getting around after all, and one of them was famously a similarly winged faunus, "Atlas; the Saint has taken refuge up there with the Custodian,"

"Ah, you are aware of them, I see," Sanguinius smiled brightly, "I have met Celestine before; I spoke to her just before I found myself here and she is the one I seek. Tell me, what is the fastest way to get to… Atlas?"

"There's a regular once-a-month Airliner from Vale you can wait for, it'll cut through Mistral to Argus, and you can get a direct flight on a Bullhead to Atlas from there," Sienna glanced out at the ocean and the way the moonlight danced over the waves, only interrupted by a slight purple glint to break them up. Yet, her much beloved sea at night did a poor job at holding her attention while Sanguinius stood by her side, and so she paid it no more than a cursory glance before she focused on the Primarch once again, "Do keep in mind, the wilderness is full of Grimm and bandits, and I'd have a hard time picking which is a greater danger to the villages and towns along the way. In fact, they make travel nearly impossible along much of the route you'd like to go through."

The Spear shimmered into existence within his grip, "They will be of no issue," then again, calling it a spear felt widely inadequate in all but the more technical of definitions. Sure, hamlets, villages, towns, cities and the kingdom's capitals are all technically settlements, but no one would look at Vale and call it such. In the same way, the weapon in the giant's hand felt… richer. It was obviously a weapon, and one that had seen much use, but it was also a masterfully crafted art piece, and one that seemed completely right in his hands. Clearly, it was Sanguinius' Spear.

She studied his armour again. The man, and she was immediately amused use the word to tag such a creature as it obviously reminded her of her musings on calling Atlas a settlement in her mind - As if he counted as something so basic, shone under the moonlight, as if he was always a breath away from answering its light with his own aura of golden hue. Because she had no doubt, it would be golden. His wings fluttered in the ocean breeze and a mighty pinion shed off them, filtering down onto the shallow waters they were walking upon on their stride along the shore. Then the question slipped out before she could stop it. Most magnificent specimen that he was, he was still obviously a winged faunus, was he not? And yet, his bulk, his mass, his very presence, everything about him felt so obviously more, that despite the self-evident truth of his mighty wings, she had to ask:

"Can you fly?"

She didn't get a verbal response, only an amused look as his wings stretched behind him and out to each side of him as far as they could go. An entire Bullhead could have been behind him, and she would have never seen it.

Then they pulled back and up, before just as quickly coming down to steal him from the ground, higher and faster than something his size had a right to. The shallow waters splashed away as if they had been struck by a titan's fist, and some waves reversed direction, clashing against the ones behind them while sand was thrown out into the air, forcing her to cover her eyes for a couple of moments.

Sienna pulled her arm away and glanced up at his gentle yet forceful defiance of gravity. Every time he was about to drop, his wings came down to keep the fabulous faunus at home in the skies.

"Does this satisfy your curiosity?" despite the height, he didn't need to shout, his voice carried naturally over the quiet night.

Behind him, purple ran across the skies like a scar. Stars were gone, entirely taken up by the violent colours of whatever anomaly now resided in their place. Her vision seemed to lock onto it as it began to focus and refocus, struggling to comprehend what was above. It tasted wrong, and yet captivated her.

Whereas the fabulous winged faunus was captivating through grace, this was… what was it again?

Sienna blinked and glanced at the Primarch. Her head hurt slightly, but her eyes didn't burn as she once again stared at Sanguinius' form. Though, just like the thing in the sky, something felt wrong. For what little time she'd been near the winged faunus, he never once held the overwhelming presence he did now.

Nor did such a snarl look like it belonged upon his face. Where before the irises of his eyes were ringed with red and blue, now they shone blood-red.

The only respite was that he wasn't staring at her, but past her.

She'd hunted before; bandits, wildlife and Grimm alike, and been in the crosshairs as prey herself. She knew the look, knew it meant more than danger.

The hairs on her body stood on end, with tingles of goosebumps running over her as she stared up at what she now recognized was raw fury.

With slow, calculated movements, she started to move to the side, away from whatever he was staring at. It felt as if the world itself had frozen, coming to a standstill to accommodate him. Everything was muted, sound, colour, everything was as if looking through a diluted window. Or perhaps he was simply too glorious. So much so that the world paled by empirical comparison.

Sienna continued to back away slowly away from the beach. Her limbs felt numb, yet anger was rising rapidly from her chest. Fear was clear as anything in her mind, but the anger- rage- pulled her face into a sneer.

Why? How?

She shook her head and blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the emotions, but all it did was push it away ever so slightly. When she lifted her head, she found what he had been glaring at in the water.

Closer than she'd ever seen to the shore, a Sea Feilong met the Angel's stare with red eyes of its own. Each 'breath' it took caused steam to be expelled from its nostrils as it studied the Primarch with jittery, jerky movements of its head.

In turn, Sanguinius clenched his grip around the shaft of his spear.

As he blinked, a mask of confusion fell from his face, as if he'd been looking at something different than she had, a long-vanquished foe or a reminder of it, and needed a moment to understand that this creature was not it.

Whatever memory the enormous, serpentine Grimm had stirred on her guest, he obviously didn't like it.

And just as much, she didn't like the Sea Feilong sitting on the edge of the shore, looking at them with more intelligence than she'd ever seen on a Grimm before. The Bioluminescent water glowed around its body, enshrouding its form with a soft blue light, while the moonlight fell down upon the Angel.

The Sea Feilong didn't have time to twitch before Sanguinius was upon it in a charge, and by the time it would have, the monster already laid at the end of a deep, long trench of glass. The Primarch having rammed it with so much strength that it caused the wet sand to boil and melt within but a single moment, creating arcs of glass that looked almost beautiful under the stars.

Arcs that shattered as Sanguinus didn't so much fly as trampled back up through them.

The Grimm roared into the night, its neck glowing a bright electric blue. Both herself and Sanguinius knew what was happening as he took to the skies as she dove behind a dune just in time for energy to blow shards of glass and sand over the top of her.

The beam of energy flew overhead, burning through trees and into the sky, clearly following the Angel as he danced around the blasts.

She peeked over the dune, and watched as the Angel readied himself to dive again, spear first, and this time nicked a large chunk of the Grimm's bone armour away before shooting back into the sky.

The Sea Feilong pushed itself off its glass prison, and fled underwater with only a ripple of the bioluminescent water.

And the spear shot down into the water after it.

She saw the spear reappear in its master's hand as Sanguinius dodged out of the path of another energy blast even as the waters churned and boiled at its point of origin, and the Grimm tried to charge into the sky after the Primarch, yet its body had already begun to fade away. Sienna was surprised by the unnatural resilience of the Grimm, as a long vertical slash had clearly bisected the creature in half from the tip of the head all the way down to the beginning of its neck, making it look more like a puppet dancing on strings than a living thing fighting to the end.

It was then that the water churned again, and two more blasts surged forth, slamming unto the winged faunus and tossing him about, almost throwing him off the sky before the Primarch's wings flapped and easily steadied his position again.

Two more Grimm reared their heads from the water, and Sienna had the impression that one of them was being similarly puppeteered, while the other acted in a much more natural way, roaring and rearing as the fin on its back stretched and spread into wings of its own, flapping and propelling the monster into the air towards Sanguinius.

The Primarch looked at the Grimm still on the sea, frowning a little as if in contemplation.

"Fine," he said, "I'll show you."

And then he flew up, and led Grimm into the air.

Sienna was momentarily awed by the sight as the Primarch and the Grimm chased each other through the skies, but her instincts demanded she pay attention to the too-smart-by-half Grimm still in the waters. Yes, Elder Grimm were cunning and perfectly capable of commanding their kin, using them as sacrificial pawns in order to study their opponents, and yet this felt… different. There was far too much intelligence in those red eyes, and its posture felt almost… feminine?

So engrossed was she in her study of the monster, she was caught off-guard when Sanguinius rammed his opponent into the beach, his armoured foot pushing against the spot between its wings with enough strength to liquefy the body in half. The Grimm whined, a sound Sienna had never associated with its kind, and faded away, leaving Sanguinius at the bottom of a crater, though not for long.

Whenever she spoke of it later, Sienna would have trouble deciding if Sanguinius leapt or flew out of there, but she certainly had no issue with describing the Primarch's charge as the remaining Grimm was knocked up and completely out of the water by a mid-flight haymaker, and whatever had been controlling it seemed to have been exorcised from the beast, because its eyes blinked and went back to the base cunning of a beast, its dorsal fin stretching and beginning to part into wings even as it fell back into the sea.

"No." Was all Sanguinius said, and his whole being flashed through the sky before landing on the Grimm's chest. His hands reached forth, and began tearing away, chunks of Grimm flesh and blood flying off in all directions. The monster was already disintegrating by the time it fell back into the water, and the spear was back in the Primarch's hand.

Sanguinius looked around, making sure there were no more of the creatures in the area, and seemingly sattisfied, flew back to Sienna's side.

"Are you alright?" he asked, glass crunching under his feet. Some of the Grimm's blood and bile still clung to his armour, causing the red gems to stand out all the more against the filth that was already beginning to evaporate. If nothing more, the Grimm had always been an easy-to-clean enemy to deal with.

She nodded, both an answer and to shake her eyes from the strangely beautiful sight of the warrior before her, "I'm fine, just surprised. Sea Feilongs rarely travel in such numbers, and even Elder Grimm don't seem all that smart."

A smile formed in the Primarch's lips, and where before a rage not her own filled her chest to overflow, she could only feel calm washing over her now as he nodded to her words, looking almost sheepish after the fight.

What are you? Was all that went through her head. Like almost everyone in Remnant now, she had seen videos of the Custodian sparring with that embarrasingly striperrific Faunus in Atlas, and thought them impossibly fast. And yet, he moved so much faster than them, and stood taller than she'd even imagined a man could be. His presence wasn't natural.

Nothing about him was.

"That is good. Very good. I will make my way to Atlas, then," Sanguinius landed and furled his wings up, "come, I will escort you back to your residence, from there we will part ways,"

He held out a hand for her, one she took with mild trepidation. Moments ago those same hands had tore through what would have been an impossible fight for any Huntsman, and done so in mere moments. The Angel was not afraid of battle, of dirtying his armour and image. Or was it unhinged brutality that drove him?

And yet, he was too regal, too polite for whatever that just was to be something normal. But he fought more like a berserker, filled with vitriol and rage. Nothing but hatred flowed off him as he fought.

And now he was helping her down a sand wall and through the gates into Kuo Kuana.

The guards were out in force, securing the streets and at the ready for any further attacks.

Amusingly, while they were both lost in thought, the sound of fabric tearing caught her attention. Sienna glanced up and the Angel was unwrapping a series of banners from around his neck.

Even he was capable of smaller accidents, it seems.

Though she couldn't help but wonder what would distract him so much. Granted, she was guilty of running into people or objects when something major was on her mind. Perhaps his stature and skill wasn't a complete reflection of his own mind?

Maybe he's more human than he looks… she scowled at the very human saying, even their speech was contagious.

"Lady Khan!"

She snapped from her thoughts to the same guard that introduced the Angel. He met his gaze with a polite nod, "greetings,"

He bowed back slightly, with a small glance up at the Angel himself, "we heard the commotion, all of Kuo Kuana did. Is everything alright?"

"It is." Sanguinius answered for her, "a trio of creatures made themselves known and had to be put down,"

Not entirely wrong, only omitting that fact you lost control,

Once again, the spear shimmered into existence in his hand, distracting the Guard a little, "v-very well… what type of Grimm was it?"

"Sea Feilong," Sienna beat him to the punch, "they were dealt with swiftly by him,"

The Guard's eyes widened as the idea sank in. Just like she did, he stepped back a little, "I'll let the Academies know, Ma'am and Sir…"

Sanguinius raised a brow and the Spear shimmered away, "cataloguing the kills?"

The guard nodded, "yes, i-it helps to keep track of what is where across the Kingdoms… that and if another appears tomorrow, we'll know it's a new one,"

"I'm certain my brother would enjoy streamlining such a system," he chuckled a little,

Sienna felt her brain struggle to grind the information, "there's more of you?"

"Quite a few, actually," he smiled. "But Guilliman is rather a perfectionist when it comes to logistics, data, inventory and strategies. Our brothers liked to tease him by calling the greatest Accountant Son." Sanguinius looked back to the guard, "it was just three, though one moved more defensively and spent a moment to study before joining the fight."

The guard nodded, "A pack of Sea Feilong led by an older Grimm, then. I'll include that in my report."

Sanguinius took a breath and glanced back at Sienna as the Guard dismissed himself, "I suppose we shall part ways now."

"Don't you need to rest?" she questioned cautiously, "I'm sure we can find somewhere for you to stay the night."

"I have endured and fought for longer," Sanguinius dismissed with a small, appreciative smile.

Sienna narrowed her eyes at him, her voice was but a growled whisper, "after whatever that was, you are staying for a night and sleeping on a proper… wait, can I fit you in a normal bed? I guess I could just push several together..."

His own eyes narrowed in return, and suddenly she felt smaller than ever before. It subsided, and he sighed,

"Perhaps Guilliman was correct…" he muttered to himself, but she caught the mention of his brother. He met her gaze and nodded, "very well, I will stay, if only for your peace of mind. Just remember, I do not intend to loiter for long,"

Sienna nodded, "glad to hear it," she yawned and stretched her back, "now, let's find somewhere for you to stay,"

"I can patrol," he offered with a wave of his hand, "I do not need as much rest as a you mortals do."

'You mortals,' yet another strange addition to the man. Sienna yawned again, her body both trying to make up for being winded earlier and the night catching up to her, was enough to convince her,

"In that case, I'm going to get some shuteye," she gave the man wide berth as she circled around him towards Ghira's mansion, "and, please, don't make a mess of the city if you get into a fight; Ghira won't be happy,"

Sanguinius chuckled, this time with more amusement behind it than before, "few dare speak to me like that, Sienna,"

She felt her blood freeze at what sounded like a veiled threat,

"If only Celestine would do the same," he sighed and called back to her, "I will see you when the sun rises,"

Not a threat then, more like a wishful complaint. Wait, Celestine is the name of that winged faunus woman, right? Perhaps they're related. After all, how many golden armoured, blond haired, white-winged faunus could there be?

Sienna gave him a farewell wave, though it was a stiff and awkward movement, and made her way quickly towards her mansion. She gave the Guards a nod in greeting as she passed through the town. She made it to the grounds in a record time and did her best to ignore the indents of when he stood in front of the porch.

The poor grass was probably going to need replacing, but at least he didn't try to stand on the wood of the porch itself.

She unlocked the door and entered. Once she closed the door behind her, she fell back and took a long, deep breath.

"What the fuck was all that!?"

Her only response to the frustrated shout was the sound of wings well above the city.

Sleep could wait, for now, she needed a bath with as many scented candles as she could find to relax… she'd leave some Lien to repay the Belladonna's.

Tomorrow would be the day she'd start greying from stress.

Sienna sighed and glanced at the clock in the room with her, "Six hours from now…"

---

The sound was heard before the shadow was cast down upon the courtyard. The thrum of engines and roar of Bullheads above. And like a cloud, a Centurion drifted high above, escorted by wings of Bullheads. At the battleship's flanks, two more of its kind followed just behind, also surrounded by a flight screen.

He sighed. Whatever happened to Atlas' beloved General apparently brought them here in force.

Yet Nick couldn't help but ponder on exactly why so many ships had been brought?

"Do you think she's with them?"

Nick hummed and turned to the Faunus woman. She was still skinny, but there was more on her bones than when she was brought in. Atrophy, dehydration and many, many other illnesses plagued her; and that only counted the physical ailments.

Given the treatment she, and many others, went through in that mountain, it wasn't surprising to find PTSD and separation disorders were very common among them.

There was only one who didn't show signs of anything wrong; and that alone was a red flag among the staff, but she brought a smile to everyone, played the role of the caring one to all. She always had a joke to tell, yet by the time they figured out what was wrong with the poor woman, one was dead, and she was nothing more than…

He shuddered at the image on the sidewalk.

No one knew what was entirely wrong, the prevailing theory was that there was a mix of multiple disorders at play, feeding into each other. Which ones, no one could figure out for certain, but the fact remained that it wasn't noticed before it was too late. But for her to lash out like such was bizarre in of itself.

Then again, the environment she and the others were kept in, it was no surprise in the aftermath that at minimum one of the survivors would have come out… damaged, for lack of a better word.

Nick raised a brow at the Faunus woman, "who, exactly?"

"Celestine," the woman's eyes lit as she spoke the Self-Proclaimed 'Saint's name, "We all want to see her again, as well as that Custodian," she peeked up in her wheelchair, "did you see the news? The Custodian is on the Atlesian Council now!"

He nodded, "I saw, yes… even on a television screen, he's still imposing."

"You never saw him in that fight," her eyes grew distant, "he tore through them, moved so, so fast… not even the barricades made of eight-ton trucks could stop him; he just kept going for them, nothing they threw at him slowed him down, and they were crushed under his feet or torn apart by his gun."

She took a breath and flicked her eyes up at him, "if she is our saviour, he was their damnation,"

"I-I heard that a few of the… survivors see her as something sent by the Brothers,"

"Is she not light in the dark? Without her, we may have been killed or worse, but she blinded them with her radiance and fought them to a standstill," She ranted, "Celestine is more than just a woman; she's- she's… I don't know how to describe her other than 'radiant',"

He also heard the rumours, the ones coming from Atlas about the woman's rather obnoxious belief in an 'Emperor', one that was a god of humanity. She was whispered about over the CCTS, speculating about her past and Kingdom of origin, as were the others.

Some thought they were Atlesian, given their weapons and armour; some type of Super-soldier project. It wasn't the most far-fetched one of the lot, it held water compared to them being sent by the Gods as punishment or retribution for their actions. Or the Custodian being a big robot of some type.

Problem was, would Atlas empower a Faunus? And Celestine was very obviously a Faunus, after all. Then again, the tactical advantage of flight was not one to be so easily discarded.

The Custodian captured awe, Celestine captured their hearts with her actions. She was always seen with a small smile, making her the most approachable of the group.

The other lady, the Inquisitor, sparked more outrageous theories; namely Atlas trying to exterminate the Faunus as a whole, but he couldn't see them doing that, not with a major threat like the cult around. Why drive up their recruitment rate by pushing an entire species into the cult's open arms and cause… if they even had one. Not to mention Ghira and the White Fang being rather influential amongst the Kingdoms at this time.

Finally, there was the red blur from the first video of the fighting ring. It took a good few weeks, a solid month at that, before anything regarding the blur was revealed.

The blur, much to his surprise, turned out to be a woman. She caught the attention of many people, most of which were Faunus due to her, rather literal, pointed ears. But of course, the attention was varied in reasons; namely, her looks and how little she bothered to cover. There wasn't an ounce of discretion from that crowd.

"Degenerates," He muttered,

The woman hummed, "sorry?"

Nick shook his head, "thinking of the group Celestine surrounds herself with,"

The woman nodded slowly and turned her gaze back to the battleships, "Have you… you've heard of her god?"

He nodded with an internal sigh, "wasn't he an 'emperor'?"

"She called him 'God-Emperor', sung prayers to Him as she stood in front of us," her eyes fell to the floor, growing distant, "she- she grew brighter, lighting the dark; her prayers seemed to be answered… it looked like her God actually answers to her prayers."

'While our's never did,' went unsaid but was as obvious as the silence that sat between them.

She glanced back at him, this time with a mix of emotions behind her eyes, "her God answered, nurse. It wasn't a useless act of faith, she asked for power and she was given it!"

Her eyes seemed to harden with conviction, as if she fully believed that was the case.

With a small sigh, he sat back and glanced back up to the warships above as a patrol flight flew over.

---

"I will be concise and spare you all the vagaries and word games; that anomaly in the sky is something beyond dangerous; we call it the Cicatrix Maledictum." Kotek started almost as soon as the door closed behind them, not even letting Ozpin find his seat at the classroom's front desk, "as far as I am concerned, the Grimm are now the least of our problems as the chances of corruption have increased both indefinitely and infinitely,"

Ironwood took his place as far away from Hesperax as he could, placing both the Custodian and Celestine between him and the Wych Queen. He wanted to ignore everything that was happening, let it fade to darkness, yet the darkness was what sent his mind into a spiral and sparks of pain up his brand new hand. Children feared the dark because they believed it held monsters, then grew into adulthood and left those fears behind. Some, in fact, looked back at those times with longing fondness for innocence long gone.

What was there to be feared? It was an absence of light, and nothing more.

Or so he thought, but the genuine 'alien' flaunting its body opposite him proved otherwise. Shadows danced to her tune, pain was something she revelled in.

He tore his eyes off her, not even knowing when he started staring, and looked to the Custodian, "Corruption?"

Kotek nodded to Celestine and she dropped to her knees and began to mutter prayers- "are there folktales and legends of gods manipulating their followers? Granting them 'power' only for it to be madness?"

Ozpin nodded slowly, "only a few, mainly revolving around the Brother of Darkness,"

"Then the Brothers may be stand-ins for two of the Chaos Gods; perhaps Khorne and Tzeentch," Kotek continued as he placed his Sentinel Blade and Shield down against the wall, both enormous weapons leaving large dents in the wall, "or perhaps even lesser Daemons of the Four. There is even a chance that they are entirely unrelated, but that is not the point of this conversation,"

Ozpin hummed and leant forward, "then what is?"

"Worship of any kind can be manipulated, twisted and tainted," Kotek took his helmet off and rolled his neck from side to side, causing it to crack loudly in the process, "it is why the Emperor destroyed and repressed all religions during the Reunification Wars and the Great Crusade; to prevent Chaos from feeding off countless souls led astray,"

Ironwood shuffled under the knowledge being imparted and the amused gaze from Lelith, "you said four?"

"Nurgle, Khorne, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh," Kotek glanced down at Celestine, "even speaking their names brings their attention; for to know their names is to know of them-"

"Then, are you not increasing the chances of our 'corruption' then?" Ozpin cut him off,

"Yes, however, if any others speak of Chaos that are related to anyone in this room, I will know exactly who to kill," Kotek stared intently into the Headmaster's eyes, "and do not misunderstand me, this is not a threat. Chaos has always been a danger to all, but even more so now that the Cicatrix Maledictum spreads their influence across the galaxy unimpeded,"

Ironwood found his eyes, once again, drawn back to Hesperax, who lent forward onto a desk and held her head in her palm, yet there was no boredom in her eyes, only sly mischievousness that closely resembled blood thirst.

Then he realised she was staring right back, unblinking and unfazed. He swallowed down the tightness in his throat and placed a hand on his new pistols, ones that barely fit in his old holsters, "How would such a thing manifest?"

"In a great variety of ways, but for all it starts with small, intrusive thoughts. A little voice that wants you kill the Hab-neighbours pet, that an extra slice of food is just enough to fill your stomach, that your contagion is not so or that you simply deserve your higher-up's position more than he," Kotek explained slowly, ensuring that everyone heard clearly, "of course it varies upon the state of the individual, but it all starts with oddities so small that the person themselves does not notice a change,"

"And how long does this take?" Ozpin pressed his lips together,

Kotek, the stalwart giant, shrugged, "anywhere between days to years. Once again, depending on the individual, their state of mind and living conditions. Nurgle is more likely to spread amongst the poor and homeless, Slaanesh amongst the wealthy, Khorne within soldiers and enforcers and Tzeentch… Tzeentch can manifest in nearly any demographic,"

"And, uh, why's that, exactly?" Ironwood pointedly ignored Leith leaning back on her seat with a hand tracing over her cleavage, "I get that they prey on a person's living conditions more than anything,but…"

"In an incredibly simplified way, yes." Kotek nodded, "Nurgle is the god of decay and disease, Khorne is war and bloodshed, Slaanesh is all things excess and Tzeentch is of ambitions, schemes, change,"

"Formed by emotions within the Warp," Lelith spoke over Celestine's increasing prayers, "the Sha'iel is an accumulation of every emotion ever felt, every dream and desire; positive, negative; conscious or not."

"For a group who distance themselves from the Warp, you have a thorough understanding," Kotek commented,

Lelith shrugged nonchalantly, as if this was talk of the weather around a water cooler, "the Aeldari created Slaanesh, after all,"

Celestine stuttered her prayers and shot a look up at the Drukhari, "I'm sorry, what!?"

"Slaanesh is a creation of the Aeldari mind. Pre-fall, specifically," Lelith watched as everyone gave her a blank look, realising they had no time frame to base that on, she sighed, "It was roughly at the same time as Humanity started to spread across the stars in what you call the 'Dark Age of Technology'. Thats when the Aeldari Empire began to decline. It was slow at first, but like all things chaos-related, it sped up."

She leaned forward on her seat, all too happy to push her breasts together between her arms and made a show of slowly crossing her legs under the other's gaze.

"In short, we had everything- All needs were met and all desires obtainable with a thought. Hunger? Any Aeldari could but stretch a hand, and our machines would perceive our desire before producing the perfect treat. Taste and nutrition in perfect balance. Boredom? The latest in art or philosophy literally at the ready for anyone to enjoy. Clothing, toys, housing, hunger. All needs were met, and no one was left wanting. Through that, belief in our gods died, and we grew bored. So bored in fact, we pushed the limits. All limits, including those what was reasonable and decent. Oh, we saw the line and spat upon it, even as what few gods left warned us against it. They ignored us, so we ignored them. We ignored the doom-sayers, and those who warned of the approaching disaster."

She leaned back into her seat again, raised her arms over her head and twisted her body in a manner that was both captivating with the ripple of muscle under her perfect skin and clearly inhuman before continuing.

"Why would we not? We were the Aeldari, and we had conquered death. In fact, it was little more than an inconvenience." She waved her hand as if dismissing a fly. "As our bodies ceased, either because of accident or violence, our minds and souls would simply linger in the warp for a little while, before returning to the material world in a brand new body. We pushed and found new limits, new ways to experience art, music, touch and pleasure. We combined them, manipulated them and broke the constraints of their descriptors. I mean, murder cults were barely considered a nuisance, and why would they be anything more? There is nothing as boring as a perfect life. Knowing there was a chance you may get killed on your way home was little more than a splash of colour on a dull existence. Get killed, get a new body and carry on."

Lelith blinked slowly and sighed with a glance at the expressions of everyone within the room, "Then. One night, a sacrifice to a new god was to be made. The core of Aeldari society was visible through great panes of glass; and as the blade was lowered to the sacrifice's chest and first blood was drawn, a psychic scream pierced the veil between the spiritual and material realms. The birth-scream of Slaneesh tore through reality itself, swallowing our empire's core worlds whole; the souls of all Aeldari were torn from their bodies and the flesh mutated into mockeries of our form."

"That iss the origin of what you knew as the Eye Of Terror, and the moment Slaanesh took its place as the fourth chaos god," Lelith sighed, "Commorragh escaped the wrath of the hungering god, as did some of the Craftworlds; but only those on the furthest edge of the galaxy. This event disrupted the Warp, threw it into turmoil not seen since the War in Heaven, and empowered all the beings within, allowing them to influence reality more than ever before. Psykers began to manifest in great numbers on Human worlds, but not knowing what they were or how to defend against predators from the warp, became living portals or were even possessed by them."

Kotek sighed, "That would be the Age of Strife, as known to mankind."

"Exactly," Lelith nodded, "or the 'Old Night', as your older Astartes would call it,"

"Only when He walked amongst us," Kotek fell into silence for a moment, "there are similarities between the Drukhari and how Slaaneshi Cults function-"

"The Drukhari are functionally the closest to what the Aeldari Empire looked like at the moment of the fall. We are, for better or worse, the truest form of our kin. Even if the Craftworlder's are loathe to admit it,"

Celestine blew a puff of air out her nose as she rose to her feet, "you created a Chaos god!"

"Not me personally, but my kin, yes," she tilted her head, "Yvraine seeks to end what we created, and many of the Craftworlds are joining her. Few decided not to, believing it to be a fool's errand not worthy of their time. Yet thousands of Drukhari are constantly flocking to her side, myself included."

Kotek shook his head, "you want Lucius dead. Not It,"

"He is a key figure amongst Her forces, his downfall would be a critical blow." Lelith shrugged again, this time with a half smirk, "eliminating the Emperor's Children would be beneficial to us all; I have simply opted to start with Lucius, while Yvraine targets Fulgrim."

Celestine raised a brow, "To dismantle the traitors, leaving only the truly Daemonic behind?"

"Yes. The theory is that if Slaanesh has to spend its own power to create more and more Daemons, the better to force it to spend said power, allowing Ynnead to strike the final blow," Lelith stretched her arms out in front of herself, cracking her knuckles, "at least, that was the plan the last I saw of Yvraine."

Ironwood shared a glance with Celestine, between the two of them, only the Saint seemed to understand what was being spoken about. He hadn't a single clue as to what was happening, even though he felt he should. He had no doubt that 'Chaos' was as dangerous as they all said, but to create a god out of horrendous debauchery was starting to stretch his disbelief; yet after the twisting spires of Commorragh, he felt he couldn't afford to not take this seriously.

Even if it was a collective delusion, or lies that slowly became a collective truth; it all had to come from somewhere, and if that somewhere was half as dangerous as they claimed… even if it started to sound like Lelith spoke for the sake of hearing her own voice…

"Why exactly are you known as a 'Custodian'?" Ozpin broke the silence,

Kotek faced the Headmaster with a cautious curiosity in his eyes, "Legio Custodes, the guardians of the Emperor. We are- were- His advisors, confidants and strategists. We were created to be artists, historians, mathematicians, philosophers, poets, politicians and more; yet if the need arose, we were weapons, soldiers and commanders. We are protectors of Humanity first and foremost; repositories of the oldest and most advanced knowledge in the Imperium."

"Literal Custodians," Ironwood commented quietly,

"That we were…" Kotek sighed, "then word reached us of Isstvan and Horus' betrayal. One by one, the Primarchs chose sides, and the Imperium followed suit. Knight Houses, Forge Worlds, Astra Militarum and Auxilia regiments, even common citizens turned on each other; either ignorantly but loyally following their superiors, or knowingly turning against one another."

"For nine years, the Imperium burned. For five, I fought within the Webway; only to be pulled out to fight during the Siege of Terra. What was left of the Legio Custodes from the Webway fell to Traitor forces. So few of us from that age are left now, you could hold the number in one hand," Kotek took a small breath and glanced at both Headmasters, "I have seen war waged for longer than your generations combined; this world could live out its natural lifespan, witness its own death at the hands of Tyranids, Necrons, Drukhari or Orks, and the galaxy wouldn't care nor bat an eye, even if it knew."

"This galaxy is uncaring, forever moving while remaining stagnant. Every single day, worlds are settled or die, are lost and are retaken; entire bloodlines are created and die out in the hulls of our greatest warships and Hive cities," Celestine continued off of Kotek, "millions die in a single battle within a war that will last for years; or the Munitorum makes a rounding error and a world is simply forgotten, lost in paperwork and the Void. By that I mean no offence, but you have to understand, when you manage millions of worlds, hundreds of millions of moons, and only the Emperor knows how many space stations, satellites and ships, it simply… happens."

Ironwood bit the inside of his lip. He'd seen only a small piece of what lay out there, between the stars and in places that simply shouldn't exist. Hundreds of thousands filled the stands of that arena to watch hundreds fight before he was thrown out there. Even more came to watch the Wych Queen herself.

And that was but a taste of what lies in wait beyond their broken moon…

He paid a glance at Ozpin. The man's eyes no longer held a stubborn disbelief, and for a moment, Ironwood thought the man finally understood what was happening.

Then the eyes flashed a subtle green, and an intense stare up at the Custodian. One Ozpin could never hold.

"My main concern now is what those portals- or Webway Gates, as you call them- hold within," Ozpin spoke, his tone calm, but there was a commanding aspect to it now, more than ever before,

"Many things," Lelith answered, "natural defences, Tyranids that have lost their way, Chaos forces, other Aeldari; but mostly is home to Harlequins and Drukhari,"

Ozpin hummed and sat forward, "the Harlequins are led by that being I saw last night; Cegrak?"

"Cegorach, the Laughing God," Lelith corrected his pronunciation shortly, and her eyes met Ozpins. Studying, probing. "The last of our Pantheon and, until recently, the main threat to Slaanesh; always out-manoeuvring Her and stealing Aeldari souls from her grasp. In return, they join the Harlequins."

The Headmaster took a breath and nodded as he processed the information, "and Drukhari? Are they a threat?"

"Yes." Ironwood spoke before his mind could process the word.

Lelith gave him an amused look, and smirked, "He is not incorrect," she slowly slid her eyes back to Ozpin, "this world's currency is Lien, yes?"

Everyone nodded in confirmation,

"There is a great variety of coin within the Imperium. It varies from system to system and sometimes worlds within the same system have coins of their own. Thrones, Aquilas and a few others are commonly accepted galaxy-wide… ," Lelith waited for the Imperials to nod in affirmation, then looked back at Ozpin, "We will use coin, gold, gems and whatever else the local Realm accepts. However, just as you do, we have an overarching currency…"

"And what is that?" Ozpin slowly asked, while Ironwood already knew the answer,

She lent forward, her eyes half lidded, "James is technically mine to trade how I wish,"

Ozpin's brows furrowed, "you use people?"

"What better currency? It has so many uses, as people can be whatever I want them to be," Lelith's smile was not a kind one; as sharp as her knives and promising of pain, "a weapon can be worth as much as a single man, to five hundred. Yet it is not the only type of goods for trade that can be bought with people; favours, pacts, territory and even solar systems if so desired are bought with people as coinage. Admittedly, some people are more valuable than others, and your cute little world is full of wonderfully valuable people. After all, these 'semblances' of yours are a true rarity, a novelty, and therefore highly valuable. If your world became known amongst my people, you can expect it would be raided within a week, though I can't tell you if it would be fully emptied of sentient life, or if a token seed population would be left to restart the population so it can be raided again and again. Honestly, this is business as usual for my kin."

James could only imagine what she'd described, then as the images of Drukhari ships descending on Remnant took shape in his mind, he wished he never did.

"And you are close to the top."

"That I am," now pride filled her very being. She straightened in her seat, managing to cast her presence throughout the room a dozen fold, "Succubus of the Wych Cult of Strife, second only to Living Dark Muse, Asdrubael Vect himself,"

"He's a scary man," Emerald spoke up for the first time from her place at the back of the room, her head was barely visible over the top of the desks from the angle James was looking at, yet even then, he could see the exhaustion.

She promptly placed her head back on the desk, effectively fading away from the conversation,

Lelith glanced back at the girl, shrugged, and faced the Headmasters, "is that all?"

"I believe I've heard enough," Ozpin confirmed, then faced the one who started it all.

Celestine met his gaze with a raised brow, "Yes?"

"What are you?" Ozpin intertwined his fingers and leant forward, "A fairytale made manifest?"

"A servant of the Holy Emperor of Mankind," Celestine spoke plainly, yet a vigour lay beneath her words, "I want to know why I am a supposed 'Maiden'."

Ozpin let out a sigh, "you claim to be a Saint; imagine them as the equivalent to you. Myths follow their tales. In the frontier, rumours are spread that they are out there."

Celestine's brows furrowed deeply, "false idols of worships are a threat to be annihilated,"

"And if we consider that they are part of your Imperial Cult?" Ozpin countered, "I may not have been the most open minded in terms of what you are, yet I still listened to what you said. Is there no possibility that they may be a part of it, though long since disconnected?"

The Saint pulled her lips into a line, "you believe in this tale?"

"Should I not?" Ozpin countered, "your very existence proves these fables true to some extent; your powers are remarkably similar to the stories so far. And so it is always possible that they may have been based on previous interactions with other Imperial Saints,"

Celestine quirked a brow at him and put a hand on her hip, "an Imperial Saint and a Living Saint are different beings."

Ozpin gestured for her to elaborate, so she did,

"Imperial Saints are men and women canonised as Saints for their deeds after their deaths; notably Generals and Priests, but mostly Sororitas," Celestine relaxed her posture, feeling quite comfortable with the new topic of discussion, "I am a Living Saint, recognised not by only the Echlesarchy, but the Emperor Himself,"

Her wings spanned out from her back into existence, glowing the faint gold and white. Her eyes shone bright with blue flame and if Ironwood looked close enough, he saw rays of blinding white light from the sheath out past her sword's hilt.

"We are his chosen faithful, His beacons and Martyrs," Celestine stood with her head held high and voice dripping with pious dignity, "It is a true test for those who have proven themselves in life, now we prove our will in death,"

"Yet you stand here," Ozpin eyed her critically. Ironwood found a small amount of disbelief seeping in as well, yet he knew not to question it. Not anymore in regards to these people at least,

Celestine let her hand fall onto the hilt of the Ardent Blade, resting over the Fleur De Lis pommel gently, "exactly. I have died time and time again, yet through faith and duty I have proven to Him that I am worthy of returning to life."

Ozpin blinked slowly, then pushed his glasses up slightly, "how many times have you supposedly died?"

"Enough that I climb terrain made of my corpses," Celestine's voice came out hard and blunt, her otherworldly glow seemed to dim slightly.

"I find myself sceptical of that claim," Ozpin's tone dripped with a dubious quality,

Celestine gave him a flat look with a brief flash of disappointment in her eyes. It was gone, as was any other emotion in her eyes, "believe what you want, I know how I am Tested and He has not found me wanting,"

Ironwood now glanced at the last person in the room's corner, away from everyone else. Alexea looked as though she wanted to fade through the walls, simply to just leave and go do something else.

Out of all of them, she was the one he either heard nothing but rumours from everyone from Academy staff to Military personnel. She was always in the background, well away from groups of people; and now he understood why. From Wind Path to the Grimm, she only had to stand and let her 'Pariah Gene' do most of the work; if she couldn't do it with that, her Bolter and blade would.

"Then what about you, Miss?" Ozpin looked to Alexea, blinking away the discomfort at doing so,

The woman glanced between the two of them boredly, then pulled out her Scroll.

"She is a member of the Anathema-" Kotek began, then felt the daggers being shot into the back of his head by her glare. He sighed, "Very well, I shall translate for you,"

Alexea put her Scroll away and shuffled the Bolter around so it hung over her back, "Yes, Anathema Psykana. Sisters of Silence. Talons of the Emperor. My Convent was destroyed by the thirteenth Black Crusade; then Valoris recalled all Anathema to the Palace prior to Guiliman's return."

They all waited for her to continue signing something, yet she did not. All she wanted to 'say' was said.

"Very… informative." Ozpin offered up weakly. Alexea shrugged silently in response. "If you don't mind me asking, why is your organisation called the 'Sisters of Silence'?"

Alexea seemed to sigh in annoyance, "My throat was torn out by a Termagant,"

"O-oh, I apologise for asking,"

"It wasn't," Alexea's eyes stared into Ozpins dangerously, "asking too many questions is not a good look, Headmaster,"

Ironwood looked between Alexea and Kotek, cautiously. He was certain it was no longer Alexea being translated… he glanced at Celestine, who now gripped the hilt of her blade and watched both Kotek and Ozpin, and only gave him a brief side eye.

Ozpin met them with his own stare and sat up in his seat.

A not so subtle threat from them all.

Lelith rose from her seat with a large stretch, cracking her spine and riding her top up slightly higher than it functionally should be. Yet those features weren't what drew his eye; the layer of muscles over her body stretched and bulged. He knew she was fit, she was the opposite of subtle in that regard, but to see so much of her muscle mass so casually displayed was another thing.

He'd seen what she could do, and this was either an attempt at drawing attention back to herself, or she was joining in on the threats that were going around in her own way. Possibly both, knowing her.

Then she dropped her arms as she stepped up onto the desk, then used them as stairs down to the main floor with large strides, "enjoying the Splinter Pistols?"

James blinked, then realised he was her target, "I've only used them in the Arena,"

She continued towards him with a faint, melodic hum. He flinched. Her small grin sharpened and he backed away from her until he was pressed against the wall, despite her still being a few metres away. He couldn't tell if it was it was his eyes or not, but a faint discolouration followed her movements, trailing after her in her wake,

Within a few steps, she was pressing against him, with a hand on the side of his neck, and her other hand running down his arm.

He jolted as her hand brushed his crotch and felt his body beginning to tremble.

Then, she pulled away, with a small, smug tilt to her lips. She ran her hand over the side of the Splinter Pistol.

He patted the holsters and found one empty. That's all she wanted? All that for something that she could ask for? He sneered at her back, and hid it when she turned towards him with a knowing glint in her eyes. Like her sycophantic murder cult in Commorragh, she was just as sociopathic.

"I suggest you enjoy these before the Kabal comes searching," She aimed it at the wall, testing its balance. He couldn't help but find the sight of a ranged weapon in her hands to be strange, "The Obsidian Rose does not take kindly to their weapons being sullied in combat, let alone stolen by a mere Mon'keigh,"

"Should we be expecting a Drukhari raid?" Kotek's eyes watched her carefully as she admired the weapon,

Lelith shrugged lightly as she admired the volcanic red Splinter Pistol, "perhaps. The Obsidian Rose is well regarded in the artistry of weaponsmithing; perfection is not their end goal, but the minimum benchmark for all weapons. Archon Khromys is a stunning creator, someone whom I have commissioned time and time again for my own armour and weapons across the years,"

Emerald picked her head up slightly, "you hired a Kabal to make you things?"

"No, not the Kabal; Aestra Khromys herself," Lelith gained a smug grin and glanced back up at the girl, "I can pay the prices she demands easily, and if I can not in slaves, souls and gems… well, having my favour or bed is more than enough payment,"

Ozpin looked to James, more specifically the other weapon in his hoster, "and what of that one?"

"Subpar. A regular weapon for a nobody Kabalite or Wych," Lelith dismissed, the lack of care evident, "however, this weapon, General, is to not be sullied. You have something minor Kabals would hold as a relic, a trophy and a target,"

The beautiful weapon, and he despised that she could be referred to as such, held out the Splinter Pistol.

He tentatively reached out and grasped it, though Lelith did not release it. Her dark eyes stared into his own as her head tilted down slightly, exaggerating the wide stare she was giving him.

For whatever reason, be it fear or the lighting, the woman seemed to tower over him as her lips curled slightly, "I will not save you if the Kabal comes searching, General, however I give you a single piece of advice; kill yourself while you can- you already know what awaits if you do not,"

He staggered back slightly as she released the Splinter Pistol suddenly and turned to Ozpin, "now, tell us all about this worlds history, Headmaster,"

Ozpin tilted his head curiously, seemingly paying that moment no mind, "which parts, Hesperax?"

She sauntered around the floor towards Celestine, where she draped herself over the Saint's shoulders no matter how much Celestine protested with words or fists, "all of it. It will be the shorter of histories after all,"

"I suppose so," Ozpin bit his lip slightly and sat back, "the Kingdoms theoretically originate from the largest of cities; the ones that survived longer than the rest and became the hub of our people. It took quite a few decades for them to begin rising to prominence, but with the Grimm gaining territory faster and faster, the more people fled to these larger cities,"

Kotek leant onto his shield as Alexea found a chair and sat in it, "and what is the oldest Kingdom?"

"Vacuo or Mistral," Ozpin answered, "with Vale and Atlas next. Eventually, through no small amount of luck and gracious leaders, the Kingdoms survived and maintained themselves throughout the next four hundred years. There were catastrophes and disasters, the most recent in the long line being Mountain Glenn, but the worst going to Vacuo's breach after the Great War,"

Celestine put a hand on her hip and ignored the Wych on her pauldron, "what led to the breach?"

"There have been many cults and fanatics throughout history, some worshipping the Grimm, others worshipping Humanity or Faunus- even the natural fauna. Be it through dissolution, malice or naivety, they launch attacks on the Kingdoms to gain the attention of the Councils. Rarely do they succeed, so it was a shock to everyone that when a large portion of Vacuo's walls detonated, that an eco-terrorist group was responsible,"

Ozpin sighed, "they were unaware of the newly created SDC moving fuel and dust temporarily to locations along the wall, one of which was where they planted the explosives. When they detonated them, the dust went with it, creating a near kilometre of wall to collapse and hundreds dead. Grimm flooded in, fueled by the seven years of carnage prior, and it was another three before the territory was retaken,"

Kotek nodded slowly, creating conclusions, "this is where the line of defences the Kingdoms have originate; a reaction to that event,"

"Mostly, yes. Plans for arrays of defences were already in the works at the time, but were slowed down by the resource drain of the wars and would be drained again during the Faunus Wars," Ozpin clasped his hands on the table, "while the Faunus gained more self determination and rights from the war, there was a noticeable effect on the Kingdom's defences due to this."

"How so?" Celestine shuffled,

"The SDC had to increase their workforce, and by effect expand into Vacuo's resources. They bought out all the smaller companies and had to increase prices to cover the expenses of the demand," Ozpin looked between them all, even James, "other companies; manufacturers, loggers, farms and pharmaceuticals had to adjust their pricing to match, this made the cost of living higher than many could afford for the next ten to twelve years,"

Ironwood lent back on the wall, "over that time, the SDC's founder, Nicholas Schnee died and Jcaques took his place. Through him, the company became a monopoly, having shares and outright ownership of companies and corporations across the Kingdoms, especially as the average Lien began to crash, they bought out all competitors."

"The SDC solidified themselves as a mega-corporation that specialises in mining, but has their hold in everything else except Kingdom owned facilities; namely emergency and public services," Ozpin added, "Jacques isn't only a rich aristocrat, he's the single richest man on Remnant, held in check by rigid policies and high taxation for those over a certain threshold across all Kingdoms. But Atlas is home to the richest of them all,"

Celestine's eyes brightened, "and that is why Atlas has such a high rate of tax evasion and fraud,"

Ironwood nodded at her, pointedly ignoring Hesperax hanging off her shoulder boredly, "exactly. It's a growing problem, but with Greyfax now fielding against all that, it should be on the decline now,"

"Most Kingdoms have their own assortment of problems; for Vale and Mistral, it's crime, for Vacuo, a homelessness epidemic stemming from the breach and Atlas has the tax evasion issue amongst the upper society… and I am grossly oversimplified it," Ozpin now looked to Kotek, "what of your 'Imperium'?"

"Are we talking about issues or its history?" Kotek cleared his throat, "either way, it will be a long lecture,"

"History," Ozpin put his chin into his cupped hand, "colour me curious,"

Kotek nodded and looked to Celestine for a moment, "Humanity as a whole can be traced back to a single world, Terra. The cradle of our species and where we all originate from. The complete history is lost to time, but it is estimated that humanity has lived on Terra for upwards of around thirty eight thousand years, possibly even more,"

At that Lelith shook her head, "humanity is documented within Aeldari logs to be alive for forty three thousand years; evolving into existence at the height of our Empire, and I mean well before the decadence began- I believe I have many writings and musical records from the earliest periods of humanity,"

Kote hummed and faced Lelith, "I am curious as to what it is, if you are not deceiving me,"

"Someday you may see my archive," Lelith shrugged, "Does the name 'Wolfgang Amadeus Motzart' sound familiar?"

Kotek shook his head, "it does not,"

"Never mind then," Lelith dismissed, returning to annoying Celestine with her presence,

Kotek shook his head at the Wych and looked back to Ozpin, "either way, all of our history can be traced back to Terra. At some point, we colonised the Sol System, then reached out to other worlds, slowly developing technology that in all remaining records were far above what we can imagine now,"

"Remaining records? What happened?" Ozpin's brows furrowed,

"The Dark Age of Technology came and we as a species reached the zenith of all that was possible, but then the Warp became unstable, Artificial Intelligences rebelled. Humanity fractured and travel became impossible between systems,"

"I believe this was caused by the birth of Slaanesh," Lelith added, "our Fall had finally begun,"

"And with that, so did Humanities," Kotek went on, "as this came to an end, and the Warp began to stabilise after five thousand years or so. At this time, He emerged and took the title of 'The Emperor'."

Celestine, despite Lelith draped over her shoulder, made the sign of the Aquila over her chest, "may His light shine on us all who He deems worthy,"

The Custodian glanced with a mix of disappointment and annoyance at her, missed by Celestine's bow of her head, "this became recorded as the Unification Wars; He created the Thunder Warriors, the earliest prototype of Astartes, to aid in the destruction of the Techno-Barbarians and those who resisted Him. Many projects were started and finished during this time as the Imperial Aquila was raised over cities and ruins; namely two; the Primarch Project and the creation of the Legio Custodes,"

James flicked his gaze off the gathered Imperials, "and this is where you come into everything?"

"Not yet," Kotek corrected, "The Battle of Mount Ararat. The culling of Thunder Warriors, and the first deployment of Astartes, occurred, cementing the Imperium as the only government on Terra. However, as far as I am aware, the Primarchs in their gestation pods were scattered, and thus, the Great Crusade began earlier. It was here, in the period between the culling and Crusade, that I joined the ranks of the Custodes and rose to become a Haetreon Guard under Constantin Valdor and the Emperor Himself,"

"I feel as though you are leaving out pieces to this puzzle," Ozpin commented,

Kotek nodded, his hands flexing slightly, "there are things that I can say, but it would warrant everyone in this room and related to you all to execution,"

"Understood," Ozpin nodded and backed down, "please, continue if there is anything else left,"

"We located Primarchs, some of whom I was there for, before I left back for Terra to aid in the beginnings of the Imperial Palace alongside Rogal Dorn," Kotek let out a faint sigh and audibly licked his lips, "then He returned to Terra, leaving Horus as Warmaster. I know not how, but over time, his views were tainted, twisted until he fell for his own delusions and convinced some of his brothers to follow him on a march to Terra,"

Celestine muttered a small prayer before she looked up at Kotek, "the Heresy had begun, had it not?"

"A vessel, the Eisenstein, came into contact with Rogal Dorn with news of Istvaan and the Dropsite Massacre. Already, Legions were pitted against each other and many were broken. The fight had begun and would go on to last nine years," Kotek shook his head, "Magnus the Red. Primarch and traitor. He destroyed the single most important project He had planned- access to the Webway, freeing Humanity from the Warp. this breach led to the Anathema Psykana and Legio Custodes being deployed into the Webway where I fought for five years, only to be relieved and to exit into the final moments of the war,"

Kotek stared down both Ironwood and Ozpin, "imagine the skies itself burning, Titan Legions marching through continental scale fights; machines so tall that they could fire over the horizon at each other. Orbital bombardments cracked the surface, the Warp bled into reality, freezing the Siege into an endless day- where there was no victory for either side, just the fight, the war for Terra. Daemons, Traitors, diseases and ever changing geography as reality itself broke apart. Cities the size of all the Kingdoms combined, destroyed with a single detination, crushed under the reign of Drop Pods or falling debris from orbit.

Terra became a true Death World during this time- everyone's lifespan was counted in minutes, for no one knew when the end would come in the form of a Titan volley, Night Lord incursion, rogue artillery or debris. Starvation took hold quickly, famine set in immediately after; dust set the world into permanent night while nuclear clouds lit the horizons. All while a wrong turn in a random corridor would now take you to completely random locations on Terra. Pounding of bombardments never ended, refusing to end, crushing everything in their wake."

James tilted his head slightly at the distance forming in the Custodian's voice, and chose to speak up to snap him back, "how did the Siege end?"

Kotek snapped his gaze to James, "time was running low, the Golden Throne was barely holding the hordes back from the Webway; Malcador was dying and no amount of sacrifices could prevent it. He gambled. He took the bait of Horus lowering the shields aboard the Vengeful Spirit. I do not know what happened aboard the ship, just that he left with Custodians, Valdor included, and Sanguinius… He was the first to perish, and I watched the effects it had on his Legion. Then He fell with Horus in tow."

"He lives, I know it to be true," Celestine spoke softly, "I've spoken to him,"

Kotek glanced down at her, "I have seen his corpse on Baal, Celestine, it was broken and shattered, a mockery of what he was in life,"

"And I leave my corpse behind when I perish in battle," Celestine tossed her arms up, finally getting Lelith off her shoulder, "I climb over them to return to service in His name, so put some faith in my words- failing that, some trust,"

"I do not doubt you, it is your experiences that make me currently doubt your words," Kotek spoke with a surprising softness, "you may believe your words after the near devouring last night, but that does not make them true. As far as I am aware, these are delusions made to shield more traumatic events,"

Celestine's mouth flapped open briefly, then she straightened with a narrowing of her eyes, "very well."

Kotek stared for a moment, waiting for any other form of protest, then faced Ozpin and Ironwood once more, "He was placed on the Golden Throne, there he remains to this day, ten thousand years later. But not all was silent during that time; there was the Age of Rebirth, where everything was rebuilt and rearmed; The Forging, where worlds were retaken and borders were set. Astropathic Choirs were created on worlds to aid in travel; Nova Terra Interregnum, a division in the Imperium that ultimately ended with the creation of the Religious state it is now, with the Ecclesiarchy gaining significant power,"

Celestine paid the Custodian little mind as she stepped forward, "as I am aware, this is where the Age of Apostasy begins; an event that holds heavy in my heart. A man took power of both the Administorum and Echlessarchy, making him the single most powerful man in the Imperium- and he claimed to be in direct contact with the Emperor Himself, cementing his place as ruler.

"He was known as Goge Vandire." Celestine spat his name with pure vitriol, before she took a breath and let her calm demeanour reinstate itself, "He is directly responsible for billions, possibly trillions of deaths due to is insanity; worlds had to hold planet-wide festivals upon his arrival, yet he told none, so they were unjustly punished. Some worlds were forbidden from allowing anyone with ginger hair to live, others could not look to the sky or face death. He had statues of himself erected above that of the Emperor Himself!"

Celestine shouted, vibrating with anger.

Ironwood watched her with wide eyes, and was shocked to watch the usually calm woman struggle to maintain it at the mention of this man's name. It felt wrong to see her this angry, where a pleasant smile should have been.

Celestine sneered at nothing but the mere knowledge of the history she was recalling. It made her blood boil and she flexed her hands in an attempt to release the anger, "he heard of a church on a world known as San Leor. A church of a coven of women known as the 'Daughters of the Emperor'. He let the world know he was coming, made sure everyone knew it was in His name, and gave San Leor plenty of time to prepare for his arrival."

James couldn't help the feeling that this was going to take a turn for the worst any moment, but he refused to speak up lest he gained the ire of the Saint,

"He arrived, let the populace shower him with flowers and women, all done at gunpoint, but he ignored it for the temple and took his kilometres long procession to the steps, where he was stopped by a woman by the name of Alicia Dominica," Celestine's attitude seemed to calm at the woman's name, "yet in true fashion of this- this- Blasphemer, degenerate and scum of the void!- he tricked her, deceived them all into believing he was a true recipient of Divine favour with a Rosarius; a type of hidden force field,"

Ozpin frowned, "this 'Alicia Dominica' didn't know what that was, I gather?"

Celestine shook her head, "none of the world did, and those in Vandire's retinue could not speak against him, for they'd simply be shot. San Leor was throwing praises at him with a Lasgun to their head, literally. And he still managed to convince the Sisterhood, now 'Brides of the Emperor' made up his personal bodyguard. He made them do everything, from bathing to feeding him, acting as footstools and degraded them to concubines. All while he grew more and more erratic."

Ironwood couldn't help the disgust on his face, and Celestine shared the same look with him,

"He gained enemies amongst everybody; the Inquisition, Astra Militarum, Astartes, Arbites, Ecclesiarchy, and in time to his detriment, Adeptus Custodes themselves. With his enemies ammassing, the leader of Sebastian Thor, civil war began and made its way down to Terra itself where the Brides held the assaulting Astartes and Militarum forces at bay. It was here that the Custodes entered the conflict, taking Alicia Dominica and her fellow sisters through the Palace, and into the Throne Room itself,"

"How long after the siege was this?" Ironwood asked Kotek,

Kotek thought for a moment, "five thousand years. Goge Vandire was the three hundred and sixty first Lord of the Administratum,"

"It is said that before she entered, Alicia Dominica was at odds with the Custodians, refusing to believe what she was told about Goge Vandire," Celestine let a wide, vicious smile wash over her, her eyes lit with righteous blood-lust. And James felt a shiver down his spine at the unhinged glaze her eyes gained, "when she left, her hair was as white as snow, and His divine anger fueled her soul so much so that Custodes stepped back!"

Kotek shook his head slightly, either at the claim or at her religious fanaticism, Ironwood couldn't tell. After all, he was most likely in the very room it all happened in and made no secret that he disapproved of her Religious worship.

"She marched to his office, and cut the pathetic bastard down, ending the Reign of Blood for good!" she took a breath and the fire faded, but never died completely, "Sebastian Thor took the place of Vandire, undoing all he could to repair the Imperium and gained the respect of everyone immediately. But it was one legislation that he would be known for; 'no man shall take up arms under the Ecclesiarchy', and none did,"

Ironwood stared at her for a moment, confused as much as Ozpin was, then they both groaned,

"Under this rule, Alicia Dominica created the Order of the Ebon Chalice, Katherine Elysius; Order of the Fiery Heart, Arabella; Order of the Sacred Rose, Mina; Order of the Bloody Rose, Silvana; Order of the Argent Shroud and finally, Lucia, Order of the Valorous Heart," Celestine took a breath, "these are the Six Ordos Majoris of the Ordo Militant. Renamed from the Brides of the Emperor. The 'Adepta Sororitas' was born in the aftermath of Vandire's reign. All of those women are Saints, martyrs to us all and the ones who entered the Throne Room alongside Alicia herself,"

Ozpin and Ironwood shared a brief look before Ozpin tilted his head, "and of which Order do you originate?"

"Order of Our Martyred Lady, formerly 'Order of the Fiery Heart'," Celestine stood tall and held her head up with pride, even glowing slightly more… or was that a trick of Ironwood's eyes?

All he knew was that there was an infinite amount of history behind every one of them that dated back thousands of years, stemming from a single world; Terra.

"But that is not all," Celestine added, still standing proud and picturesque, "in direct response to the Reign of Blood, to police the Lords, Priests, Governors and everyone else in power, the Ordo Hereticus was formed- Inquisitor Greyfaxs' branch,"

Ironwood blinked slowly, at least Greyfaxs' behaviours made slightly more sense. A woman who had to stop planet-wide war at best, star systems wide frontlines from forming at worst, her harshness was a necessity.

Though his brows furrowed, "still doesn't excuse her 'innocence proves nothing' mantra,"

Kotek shook his head slowly, "you have heard, but do not understand. If you knew the dangers, the effects and affects, you would know why you have no right to let the damned live,"

"Imagine if the Grimm controlled your minds, seeped into your soul and twisted it to do your bidding, willful or not, you would be the harbinger of destruction," Celestine compared, "that is what Chaos is; a bastardisation of your very being until there is nothing left of who you are, just a puppet of Daemons and False Gods,"

He nodded slowly at the concept. It was a horrifying concept, one that really existed with Salem herself. If she could be turned into whatever she was now, who else could be?

Carefully, he glanced at Ozpin-

"Greyfax has found a name, she informed me before Glynda and Qrow left to search for the General," Kotek began, "does the name 'Salem' sound familiar in any way? I have searched through archives and libraries, yet have found nothing. No medical, birth or criminal records,"

James was suddenly glad that Ozpin tilted his head and spoke up, "where did she learn the name?"

"A… cultist," Kotek stated blandly, "it was difficult to apprehend the name, but she found it through persuasive means,"

Both James and Ozpin swallowed thickly, and he glanced at Alexea, who now stood on her feet, Bolter in hand,

"I can't say I've ever met someone with that name, not knowingly, at least," Ironwood shrugged, "Do you think it's important?"

Kotek nodded and gestured to Alexea, "I believe it to be the possible name of the woman who works out of Wind Path for that branch of the cult, as discovered by Alexea and Clover,"

Ozpin nodded and pulled his Scroll from his pocket to check the time, he glanced up and looked between Kotek and Celestine, "please, keep me informed of any developments on that front, any possible actors need to be identified. But on that note, I do have an Academy to run, unless there is anything else?"

Celestine shook her head and looked to Kotek, who also shook his head, "no. That is all,"

With that, Celestine faced Ironwood, "follow me. That was not a request,"

He swallowed and only now realised he clutched the Splinter Pistol in his hand. Holstering it as best he could, he followed the Saint out the door, where both Geminae Superia stood guard. One wore a hard expression that would have denoted her as Genevieve if her white bangs that waved to the left weren't there.

"Eleanor,"

He spun and faced the other Geminae Superia,

She dipped her head in a bow, "my Lady?"

"See to Ironwood's wounds and tampering done by the Xenos," Celestine ordered, "take as long as required and make a report, I wish to read it when you are done,"

"As you will," she bowed again and looked up to Ironwood, "follow me, we will move to a private location,"

He glanced between the twins and Celestine, "I'm sorry, what is happening?"

Celestine only gestured to Eleanor as she turned down the hall, "my sister will explain. Genevieve, follow me,"

As the two left, and he was dragged all but by hand down the hall by Eleanor, she began, "I was once a Hospitaler. It was His vision for me to become a Geminae Superia, I believe it was due to my accolades as a Hospitaler, so I was chosen to be a Cannoness just in time for Celestine to chose her newest Geminae Superia,"

He could barely comprehend what she was saying, all a bunch of titles he could only guess at what they meant.

"Forgive me, but what is a Hospitaler?" He asked, following her outside into the morning sun. Her armour glinted just as beautifully as Celestine's under the light, her small smile just a bright,

She slowed her pace so she was next to him, "a field medic, a doctor and surgeon. I was the top of my Schola in studies and practical exams," she held a hand out at his chest height, "notice anything?"

He stared at her gloved hand, confused at the action and blinked slowly as they walked towards the Staff dormitories. "Oh… it's completely still,"

"Steady hands make for precise surgery," she grinned, "I could pull Stubber-rounds from a thigh in the back of a Taurox speeding through a battlefield, and not a stray cut to be found,"

Ironwood once again, blinked slowly at her, "that was… oddly specific,"

She laughed and he found it to be relaxing, "I've seen battlefields, mended the worst of the wounded and aided many more during their recovery. It's specific because I did do that; during a Tallarn raid on a desert world. We had to retreat, but refused to leave wounded behind, so I jumped between vehicles to perform surgery where I could. It was a stand out experience during my time… Emperor, I feel old now,"

"You look as young as Celestine does," he commented as a compliment,

Though she narrowed her eyes at him, "she's over five thousand years old, General,"

"No, don't try that trick," he sighed, "both of you look thirty at the oldest, not like you're about to drop dead if wind blew too hard,"

At his response, she both pouted and snorted, "and here I thought you'd be more fun than my sister,"

As they reached the doors to the dormitory, he held them open for her and gestured for her to go first. Something that couldn't be done with her Jumppack on as he found out the hard way,

He ended up rubbing his shoulder and ribs as he led the way down the hall, following her directions to the room she stayed in last night, "Celestine called you her 'sister', are you related?"

"Not by blood or anything alike," Eleanor shook her head, "but I consider her my family. I would give my life for her time and time again in a heartbeat,"

"Battle does form strong relations with those you serve beside," he commented, "she is also good company,"

"She is a lovely woman; kind and caring, compassionate and forgiving. Celestine is the best of us," Eleanor sighed, "I spent a large hour of last night crying in relief that we had finally found her, not spent the rest of our time in that hell,"

He glanced back at her and found a forlorn expression on her face, her blue eyes vacant and drifting, "hey,"

She snapped her head up and blinked rapidly,

Ironwood gave her a small grin, "you're out now, focus on that,"

"That I try, but imagine four years of that place. Dying over and over and over again, only to be violated inside and out for the entertainment of the nearest Wych or the Kabalite that bribed themselves down to the cells…" Eleanor shook her head, "you don't need to hear my grievances,"

Ironwood frowned, "no, but that doesn't mean you don't need to speak them, if not to me, then to Celestine or your sister,"

"Genevieve will brush it off, she always does," Eleanor sighed, "I love her, but she is not the best at emotions. Sticking to Duty and objective, no matter the cost,"

"And what of Celestine?"

Eleanor flicked her eyes up at him, "she's… I can't burden her any more than she is,"

James stopped and turned to her, "then let me repay the favour you did to me; just rant or sit in silence, I don't care. It was nearly a week of hell for me, but for you it was years; but you still comforted me,"

She licked her lips and sighed softly, "in time, perhaps, James. I appreciate the offer, truely, I do, but not now, not when its so fresh," she gave him a small smile, "I, however, offer you the same,"

He gave her a small nod, "then, perhaps, I'll have to show you around the Academy in Atlas, so you know where to find me,"

"Ah, the days of the Schola; boys luring me to corners for a lay," she joked, earning a disbelieving snort from Ironwood, "I jest, I jest. But thank you all the same,"

Ironwood cleared his throat and nodded back down the hall, "then please, let this lab test be over sooner than later,"

---

The sun.

She didn't appreciate it as much as she should have. It was warm most of the year, and literally lit the world.

It sat there and did its thing, no strings attached.

Emerald splayed herself out on the grass, basking in the warm sunlight as she watched the clouds drift by high above. Soft, white and fluffy, the most cloud looking clouds she'd ever seen, pushed by a gentle wind.

She sighed softly, silently hoping that Celestine wasn't going to ask any more questions. She didn't want to remember anything about Commorragh, let alone talk about it. If she wanted to know more, she could just ask the General.

But he wasn't that one to have freedom, to walk and see all over the Arena, witness Wyches and Kabalites doing what they wanted.

A shudder ripped through her and she slammed her eyes shut, focusing on the grass under her and the warmth on her skin.

A familiar feeling set in, swelling her throat and making her mind swim, and there was a tap on her shoulder that rippled ill feeling through her.

Emerald peeled her eyes open and met dark green, "h-hi…"

"Child," Alexea typed, "bathing in the sun like the feline I see,"

Slowly, Emerald propped herself up on her elbows and glanced around herself. The Gyrinx kitten had found its way to her and laid sleep next to her, "it's warm and nice,"

"I know, why do you think my mask is off?" Alexea smirked, emphasising the lack of mask with her lips, "you've been here for a good hour; are you alright?"

She looked away, due to both the rising nausea and pain in the back of her eyes and the fact she very much wasn't. It was mean, but if she didn't look, the woman physically couldn't communicate; so, that meant being left alone, right?"

That alone told the 'Psykana all she needed to know. The Oblivion Knight sank to her knees, keenly aware that the longer she was near the girl, the worse she'd start to feel. She tapped Emerald's shoulder again, this time infusing the touch with a minor thrum of the Null,

Emerald jolted and glared up at her, face pale, "why!?"

"To get your attention," Alexea shrugged, "I know what you're trying to do,"

"Okay, then you know I don't wanna talk about it," Emerald's glare intensified,

Alexea nodded, "That's why I'm not asking anything. I'm here to see if you are alright, nothing more. Do what you want on your own will,"

Emerald blinked slowly, her mind processing little, but after all that happened, it couldn't process much at all. Not now, at least.

"I understand that sitting alone with unwanted memories is not… pleasant. I know even more about not talking about them," Alexea huffed a silent sigh and glanced out over the rooftops of Vale, and looked back at Emerald, "so I ask again; are you alright?"

Emerald felt her throat tighten, but refused to give into the growing urge to cry; she was getting sick of always crying. But she still shook her head slowly, "I don't want the sun to go away,"

Alexea tilted her head, "The rotation of this world means it will,"

"That's not-" Emerald groaned, though it faded to a faint whimper, "what if those things are in the dark?"

"What things?"

Emerald swallowed thickly, "the green, shadow things, other Kabalites or Wyches?"

Alexea huffed again, "I doubt any came through with Hesperax, especially with a Harlequin in tow,"

Emerald shook her head and looked back out over the distant roofs, "I hope they didn't,"

"If any did, they will not survive long," Alexea typed out, and had to put the Scroll in front of Emerald for her to read,

The girl let her head fall slightly and she sat up, curling her knees to her chest and huddled into a ball, "I know…"

"Welcome to the nature of the galaxy." Alexea showed her, then stood with a final message, "If you need anything, find me,"

Emerald blinked as the Sister turned and walked away. She let herself flop onto the grass and let out a shaky sigh.

She didn't want to be weak anymore, or at all.

Everyone was stronger, better and had so much more confidence in everything. Any one of them could just walk into somewhere and get what they wanted, whenever they wanted, and fought better than she ever could…

But they were old- not in a regular 'old person' way, just old. She was sure that all of their ages had three numbers at minimum-

How old is Alexea? She didn't think she was ever told. As far as she knew, Alexea could be the oldest one amongst them- or the youngest; a part of her thought the latter through looks, but Celestine looked no older than thirty and Lelith looked twenty, so she wasn't so sure about that anymore given their multi-digit ages.

Emerald blinked rapidly, dispelling the tangent her mind went on.

She just had to be better. So much better. Following the routines Celestine made for her wouldn't get her there faster, nor would laying here. She knew that to be better, she had to do more to get there; the problem was how did she get there, what did she have to do to never, ever be in that position again?

She didn't have her Laspistol, and now had two melee weapons to use, but she had fuck all of a clue how to use them.

That meant having to ask Lelith of all people for something…

"She's not too mean…" Emerald muttered, but still dread being in even a mock fight with the Wych, but now that was amplified by the carnage she unleashed in the arena. If that's how she truly fought, without any holds barred- how intense did she actually train?

But if there was anyone who would know how to use Drukhari weaponry, it was the Queen herself.

Though she was worried now that Lelith would try and teach her the acrobatics and stunts she could do, not that they weren't cool, just that she didn't really care for looking 'cool' as much as being able to defend herself did.

Emerald swallowed and bit her lips.

"I see you are enjoying the sunlight,"

Emerald tilted her head back and found the topic of her thought. She spun herself around and looked up at the Wych, "it's warm,"

Lelith nodded, flicking her eyes up to the sky, "it is not Commorragh, but it is enjoyable in its own way,"

"You like the weird feeling the sun gives?" Emerald held a look of disgust, "I- I don't,"

"It grows on one," Lelith shrugged, and tossed the Razorflail down in front of Emerald, "it is too large for you to use, yes, however it can be used to train yourself on where you centre of gravity is,"

Emerald stared down at it, unsure of where the Wych even produced the weapon from, let alone how the thing worked. She reached out and a blade landed between her hand and the hilt, barely missing her fingers.

She flinched back with a delayed reaction and glared up at Lelith, "aren't those the ones that cut through anything?"

A snort, "There is no challenge in using those blades. They ruin the point I make." Lelith tilted her head, "have you realised what that point is yet?"

"No?" Emerald shrugged slowly in confusion, "I didn't even know there was one?"

The Wych rolled her eyes and sighed. She fell into a squat as she pulled the blade out from the grass, "these are plain, regular knives. The ones back in Commorragh date to the War in Heaven. I have always used the regular ones to make a point; it is not the weapons I use that make me dangerous,"

"It's you," Emerald finished for her, grasping the point, "oh… It works, I guess,"

Lelith nodded enthusiastically, falling into a topic she enjoyed; talking about herself, "I am capable of wielding any Drukhari weapon; ranged or otherwise, but if I had a second weapon I am known for, it would be an Impaler with its staff extended. However, I do not mind Vambrace gauntlets or Punch Blades,"

"I guess they're all stabbing devices?" Emerald shuddered, ignoring the images of Wyches revelling in the carnage of the arena, "you really do like blades…"

Lelith chuckled slightly and got to her feet, "It is a hobby. Speaking of which, take up the Razorflail, I will show you how it functions,"

Emerald glared up, "you're not going to throw a knife at me?"

"No promises,"

She reached out and swiped up the Razorflail as fast as she could, and glared back up at Lelith.

The Wych just watched her idly and blinked slowly, "to your feet."

What conversational attitude the woman had was gone, replaced with a commanding presence. She seemed taller, larger. Her face was as hard as stone, her eyes sharp as her blades.

Her mind went back to the blue flames of the fireplace and how the demeanour the Wych held changed with shifting body language.

So, she tried to copy her. She glared back and stood as tall as she could get and puffed her chest out.

Lelith quirked a brow, "an attempt, that is certain."

Emerald continued her glare, ignoring the snide tone. Apparently the ability to be nice had worn off.

"Fuck off,"

"No, I do not think I will," Lelith huffed, "hold the blade out and squeeze the hilt,"

Emerald did so, her arms shaking almost immediately under the strain of the weight, and squeezed the hilt with one hand. Nothing happened.

Lelith twirled her blades and hummed, "further up the hilt, closer to the guard,"

She followed the instructions, juggling the weapon with a single, tiring hand and tried again. Still nothing. Emerald shot daggered at the hilt, "it's not doing anything,"

Impatiently, Lelith tossed a blade into the dirt, sticking up hilt-first and took the Razorflail from her. She held it out to her side easily and with a subtle movement of her hand, the blades dropped into their extended form with a gentle clatter and thud on the grass.

"It seems your hands are both too small and not strong enough to use it properly." Lelith squeezed again and the blades retracted, turning it back into 'sword', "you can train to use it like this, however, you will continue to try to get it functioning properly. Once you can extend it consistently, I will train you on using it to the fullest extent,"

A tiny part of her groaned at the knowledge, but the rest of her was ecstatic.

She nodded rapidly, "I need to get better at shooting as well,"

"You must get better at many things," Lelith told her with a blunt look and an even more blunt tone, "that will come in time. You do not need to become proficient with all weapons, but you can not rely on the same weapons,"

"To rely on a single weapon is a death sentence," Emerald quoted Kotek with a low tone, mimicking his own, "yeah, yeah,"

Lelith shook her head disapprovingly, "do not dismiss that advice so readily. The Custodian has vastly more knowledge than you ever will; dare I say he may even be wise in some cases. I agree with his statement as a wide skill-set is what makes me,"

"Makes you what?"

"Me," Lelith held her arms out, "My skills vary so vast that they have propelled me far above all others. Blades, Impalers, Flails and Splinter weapons; I can sufficiently use them all. My nightmares are what inspire me, my muses of a twisted art that I have long perfected,"

Emerald slumped, "you've had, like, thousands of years? I'm nine and probably gonna die when I'm forty,"

"You will not," Lelith rolled her eyes, "besides, there is a reason why you are being trained so young,"

She looked down at her feet and sighed, "can I just do nothing for a while?"

"Your misery is a sour taste," Lelith scrunched her nose, "you have until we return to Atlas to recuperate, then I will be pushing you,"

Emerald rolled her eyes, "so will the others… but I wanna get better,"

"Then just accept the training. Do not think about it, just perform to the highest of your abilities and push them every time. I will be lenient for the next month; then I will make it as difficult as possible…" Lelith shrugged and crossed her arms, "I do not apologise for any future scars you gain from this,"

Emerald nodded slowly, then tilted her head, "in the room, you had weird colour things around you when you moved; what was that?"

Lelith preened herself and stood tall with a smug smirk, "do the fabrics not look different to you?"

Emerald narrowed her eyes, at what little fabric the Wych wore. Under her small amount of armour and over her chest, even the bottom was darker than what she was used to, and certainly wasn't the same as what the Queen wore in the arena.

Sensing that she figured out the difference, Lelith shot her armoured arm up, and a series of colours were left in its wake, distorting the outline and fragmenting it all at once. The Wych quickly spun in a fluid dance, leaving a massive kaleidoscope of colour behind and around Emerald.

It was as disorienting as it was entrancing.

"The fuck?" Emerald swore as she tried to follow the movements, but they grew more erratic, faster and the colours began to mend with each other.

Emerald startled as Lelith's normal state was suddenly in front of her, contrasting the broken, colourful images of herself by a mile.

"I have tailored a Dathedi that was given to me," Lelith spun slower, showing off the fabric and a slight activation of what she now wore.

Emerald blinked slowly, "uh… I dunno what that is, and did you make it like your regular outfit on purpose?"

"It translates roughly to 'Between Colours', and yes, I did," Lelith stated both as a matter of fact, "it covered too much, so I made it similar to my own designs,"

"Right…" Emerald sighed, "so it makes you even more colourful? Isn't your hair enough?"

Lelith waved her off, "my hair is just a bright blood orange, but this?" she pulled a part of the fabric up, uncaring of it revealing more of her chest than Emerald would have liked, "this adds to the beauty of my skills,"

Emerald couldn't help the flat, deadpan look she gave the Wych, "are you done being… uh, egotistical?... I think that's the word," she muttered the last of her comment,

Lelith shrugged and Emerald resigned herself to the fate that was ahead of her. She glanced back to see if the Gyrinx was there, but found the patch of grass empty.

"Aw, fuck!" Emerald spun around, searching for the animal, "come back!"

"I believe I scared it away," Lelith noted,

"And you're gonna help me find him!" Emerald ordered and much to her surprise, the Wych nodded,

"Very well,"

---

The sounds were familiar ones. The thrashing of steel on steel, the crackling of welders and marching of machinery in action. Few workers moved about, from station to station unless their duty called for it.

Iron tinged the air and heat made her sweat under the armour.

Yet Greyfax persisted, despite her annoyance at the heat. Vacuo was enough for that one time and thanked the Emperor that she was virtually on the border of Vale before she found Celestine. But even then, there was too much sand for her liking.

She pushed the thoughts out with a downturn of her lips and scanned the long factory lines of Mantle's Industrial sector. Despite her lack of knowledge in most fields that belonged to the Mechanicus, even she could see the beginnings of weapons along the conveyors and chassis of vehicles sitting in various states of completion.

No doubt it was a difficult task, and a skilled one at that. But why employ the Mutants?

Nearly every one of the workers had some kind of animal trait, denoting them of Faunus origin. All covered in grease and grime from working with… whatever they used to create the machines.

Surely if any Tech-Adept saw the factories they'd either have a short-circuit or crave to discover what they were doing. That's if they didn't know already and found it all rather subpar.

Greyfax hummed and stared down an inquisitive worker as she passed, intimidating them back to work.

She came out from between large machines that rattled and whined loudly to an open area. It was a room of its own making, walled off by lathes and drill presses of various sizes. Most were manned and in use, but a few were empty for whatever reason and one was wrapped up in bright yellow tape.

Production was hampered, but that was not her place… yet.

Through the iron and heated air, a burming scent tickled her nose.

And a hard thrust hit her Cerimite armour, whatever it was shattered upon impact and was followed up with a knife. Unlike what she could now identify as a bullet, this bounced off harmlessly, if a little too close to the small gap between the armour on her forearm and bicep.

It took less than a second for her to start moving in retaliation, diving behind a massive lathe.

Another knife struck the spinning head and was thrown off somewhere. She brandished her Rapier and Combi-Bolter,

A puff of wind blew beside her, blowing out the candle upon her hat, and she spun with the Bolter raised.

Before she even registered what was there, it fired, though the person became a wall of black smoke. The Mass Reactive round passed through harmlessly, detonating against something a good two dozen metres away.

The smoke reformed again as a fist struck out, only to be deflected with her Rapier.

Smoke again.

Marcus grinned.

Greyfax snarled.

A Bolt was fired, and he faded just as quickly. The man's reflexes were as good as hers it seemed.

Fainting a directional slash, she suddenly reversed her grip and thrust the Rapier behind her. It met immediate resistance and Marcus growled.

Spinning to meet him, she twisted as he grasped the Rapier with both hands; one at the base near her own hand, and another at the top and pushed in reversed directions as he twisted it.

She lost her grip on the Rapier and pulled the Bolter up and fired, to which Marcus twitched his head. A blood trail ran from where his ear used to be, narrowly avoiding the Bolt.

He threw the Bolt away and brandished more knives from between his fingers. As quickly as they appeared, he threw them. She raised her Bolter up to strike him. Two knives struck across her Auspex Eye, another across the flesh side of her face and leaving a deep cut close to her only biological eye.

Her Bolter came down a moment later and she let an arrow loose when he jumped back, piercing his Aura and embedding itself in his shoulder. Not letting up, Greyfax lunged in with her fist swinging and he deflected the blow, meeting it with his own on her forearm that held the Bolter.

The armour took the force easily, but his strikes were that of another in powered armour.

As was his grip. No wonder she lost the Rapier.

Now, in a moment, her Bolter was gone as well, firing blindly till the last moment.

It wasn't a waste, however, as with each explosion, his Aura flared as the shrapnel flew and overpressure nauseated the both of them.

Yet her reflexes persisted. She raised her forearms up in time to block a series of fists, and surprisingly, a roundhouse kick from the Assassin. She took a step back as he continued, allowing him to gain ground.

Strike, step back.

Strike, strike, step back, weave.

"Com'on, where's that defiance gone?"

Greyfax ignored him, focusing on what slithers she could see of him between her arms. One eye worked now. The other, sparking, flickering distorted images of the man between prompts belating failure in a multitude of systems.

As fast as she expected him to, he charged in, dodging her own retaliatory fists when he could, but she still got her own hits in, flaring his Aura and draining it more and more. The longer it went on, the more she struck him, the less he was able to pull witchery.

Good.

Another roundhouse, another block and step back.

By now, she was unsure of where in the factory they were, only that the workers were long gone, but their machines kept running.

Marcus seemed to realise the same thing, as he reached out and scooped up a crowbar from a workbench and struck out, flaring his Aura to boost his strength.

Reflexively, Greyfax brought up her forearms, and the crowbar slammed into her ceramite armour. She felt the blow in her bones and faint cracks spread from the impact.

He swung again, only this time she didn't risk damaging her armour any more, and caught the weapon on its back-swing and pulled him in. If she couldn't win fairly, nothing said that her Auspex Eye couldn't be used as a weapon.

She headbut Marcus across the bridge of his nose and gripped at his wrist.

Cartilage snapped and his Aura flared defiantly and weakly against the attack, so she did it again, and again and again while her grip twisted his thumb and wrist further and further. HIs grip on the Crowbar vanished and a loud crack came from his wrist.

He threw his body weight onto her, but her armour acted as a counter weight. Instead, he was tackled to the floor using his own momentum and she fell almost atop him.

Her grip on his wrist remained, even as pulled one last blade out of hidden pocket. He slashed out violently at her face again, scoring a deep slash up under he Auspex Eye and across her nose.

Marcus never got the chance to bring the blade back as she slammed her knee into his pelvis and fist into the Arrow. The armoured fist hammered it out the other side of his body and locked his arm up, unable to bring the knife back down.

He sneered with a growl filled with pain.

She gave him a bloody grin, "where's that defiance gone, Marcus?"

Her fist came down again, blowing out what little Aura he had left, and then she went straight for his diaphragm, ribs and pushed his thumb further and further until bone pierced skin. Completely disabling any ability he had left.

Now, he was hers.

"Good news, Marcus." She finally released him but kept her knee down on his pelvis with all her weight, keenly aware that if she pushed, the bone would snap under the weight of her armour, "Hesperax is back."

"Get the-" Marcus was silenced as her fist crushed what was left of his nose and cracked his head against the flooring. He went limp and his eyes rolled back into his skull, leaving copious amounts of blood seeping from his beaten face.

Greyfax sneered down at his unconscious from through her flickering Auspex eye. The images and read-outs shimmered with static and tearing. Perhaps using it as a weapon wasn't a good idea after all…

"Fuck," Greyfax spat and brought a finger to her Comm-Bead.

The little device crumbled.

"Fuck," she spat again and hoisted herself to her feet. Aware of the snap that came from Marcus' hip when she placed some weight on it. He'll live.

She scanned the factory for where her weapons went, and sighed. At least the others would have a pleasant surprise when they return.

---

"Do not dwell on it,"

Kotek's voice jolted Celestine out of her thoughts. She faced him and nodded, "of course,"

The Custodian looked down at her from the seat of the Gyrfalcon, "from what you have described to me, you were targeted only because you dove head first into the Warp. A foolish mistake, especially coming from you,"

Celestine shook her head, "I was commanded by Sanguinus-,"

"You truly believe him to be alive." Kotek interrupted, "whether this be delusions, trauma or fact, you believe it to be true,"

Celestine tossed her arms out, "Because it is!"

"And it was not the Sanguinor?"

"No!"

"Are you certain?"

"For- Yes! Yes I'm very certain that I made a fool of myself in front of him and the High Lords, that I spoke to him alongside the Captain General and another Inquisitor!" Celestine glared up at him, yet the man remained unfazed, even as her wings flared out in anger, "He lives, claiming that Roboute ordered him to remain in the Palace but had visions of Baal falling to the Tyranids,"

"I trust my Saint's words," Genevieve spoke up from Celestine's side,

Kotek sighed and shook his head, though a hand brushed over the controls of the Gyrfalcon, "I will hold my doubts, but give you the benefit of them as well. You have proven yourself to not be one to lie knowingly,"

"But you don't believe me," Celestine muttered, "Greyfax doesn't,"

"That is her duty, as it is mine. We both operate on solid fact and evidence," Kotek stated, "I have seen what blind faith and belief does, Celestine,"

Celestine sighed heavily. This was going to be the best she was going to get out of him, and probably the same as Greyfax. She knew what the truth was, but that didn't stop the fact that no one believed her, hurt a little.

Of all the people to claim such a thing, surely a Living Saint should be one of the most reputable.

"What if it was another Custodian saying this?" Celestine asked, hiding the bitterness in her voice well,

"I would be more inclined to believe them, but it would require more intelligence gathering first," Kotek watched a group of students move past them, watching on with curiosity and awe. He looked back to Celestine when they were gone, "as I am treating you right now. If I can get more proof, then I would believe you,"

That response didn't stop the bitterness at him, or Greyfax. But she knew she'd be proven right in one way or another.

She just had to figure out where he was. Baal? Terra? Anywhere in between?

Celestine hummed to herself as she thought.

---

The building was a relatively bland one, by this planet's standards. Stark white and bright red with no overly designed architecture.

"Does this planet not value its 'individuality'?"

Celestine nodded, "it does, however, this building appears to be from a time before that,"

Genevieve pulled her lips into a thin line and stared at the foyers entrance. Double glass doors stared back, or was it the nurses and doctors within?

With a glance to her other Geminae Superia, Celestine gave a small smirk, "you may find this tour rather informative,"

"That I will, Lady," Eleanor nodded, then lowered her voice to a whisper, "I will make you aware of any heresy, Lady,"

Celestine patted the woman on her armoured shoulder and made her way towards the entrance. She was only slightly perturbed at leaving the warm sun for the sterile rooms of a hospital, yet their care went above her own wants.

The Geminae Superia fell into step behind her flanks and held the doors open for the Saint. What few nurses and doctors that weren't staring before, certainly were now. She met their shocked gazes with a warm smile, both out of genuine politeness and to offset the borderline glare Genevieve was giving each and everyone of them.

At least Eleanor is personable, no offence, Genevieve.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked on reflex, and went bright red a moment later when they looked up,

Celestine shook her head, "I do not. However, I believe you have a select few patients I helped recover in your care,"

The receptionist bit their lip and seemingly froze with a glance to Celestine's right.

With an internal sigh, Celestine smiled just a tad wider, in an attempt to off-put Genevieve's glare, "I have heard some of them wished to see me?"

"Oh, um, yes, they do," the receptionist glanced down at their computer, "they also want to see the other man, the Custodian?"

A small smile, "He is currently occupied with Council obligations,"

"Oh, yes, he's on Atlas' council now," the receptionist relaxed slightly at the small talk, "that was something that spread like wildfire around here, especially you going after Ironwood,"

"Ah, yes," Celestine smacked her lips perturbed at being shoved into the limelight while she was gone, "thankfully, I was trained well,"

The receptionist and others who had gathered around piqued up, "you found him?"

Celestine nodded slowly, "He is in good care now,"

"Crashing a Bullhead just to escape…" one of the doctors muttered under their breath,

Celestine ignored the man, though, through her mild annoyance, she wondered just what type of cover story Greyfax came up with, "How are the patients doing?"

"Oh, you would be better asking a doctor for specifics,"

Eleanor tilted her head, "I am rather curious to find what treatments are used,"

Celestine chuckled, "of course you would,"

"Would you rather I remain by your side?"

Idly, she wanted them to both be there at her side, yet knowing that they were somewhere so few ever leave… She gave her a small shake of her head. A fond smile on her lips, "no, go enjoy yourself. After everything, you both deserve some time to yourselves,"

Eleanor bowed her head, "I will be but a few moments away, if I am required, my Lady,"

Celestine waved her long-time friend off, then faced Genevieve. The woman stood firmly by her side, watching over all in the foyer with a critical, and dangerous, eye.

"You may do what you wish,"

"I am to be at your side," Genevieve glanced at the Saint, "your protection is my priority,"

She restrained the small eye-roll; it wasn't even something worth the action, Genevieve was simply performing her duties. Though she could take some time for herself…

"Very well," Celestine turned towards the doors labelled 'patient ward', "please do not scare any of the workers nor patients, they've had enough to deal with,"

Genevieve fell into step behind Celestine, if only because her Jumppack made it impossible to be anywhere else, "why would I do that?"

Celestine looked back over her shoulder with a blank look, "you know what you're doing,"

The same amusement from earlier that day flashed over the Geminae Superia's eyes while she kept a blank look, "doing what?"

A small sigh, covered by a chuckle, "do you know why we're here?"

"I do not,"

"A few months back, there was an incident in an abandoned city, Mountain Glenn. I was a part of it. Lord Kotek, Alexea, Greyfax and myself freed a large group of prisoners from the cult that was there," Celestine explained in a low tone, as to not let anyone hear, "it is also where I found Hesperax,"

Genevieve nodded, "and these are the survivors."

"They are," Celestine nodded. She stepped to the side and pulled Genevieve with her. The Jumppack clunked against the wall, but it allowed a doctor and a patient in a wheelchair to go past. She got nothing but awe from them, and met it with a smile, "I am also here to recruit as many as we can,"

"If that is what He demands, then so be it,"

"But?" She knew there was a 'but' with her,

Genevieve glanced in both directions down the hall, "But what if they are not pure?"

"Then we will make do with what we have," Celestine bit her lip at the agape look Genevieve gave her, "we have so few choices, we will have to do what we can until His light reaches us, Genevieve,"

"I do not like it,"

"Neither do I, yet we have little choice lest we forfeit our survival," Celestine put a hand on Genevieve's shoulder, "this galaxy is dangerous, and we must do what we can to ensure Humanity remains dominant,"

Genevieve took a deep breath, "you are a carrier of His will, Celestine. If you say it must be done, then so be it,"

Celestine gave her a lopsided smile, "I never said anything about the impure holding sacred positions," she turned back down the hall, "now come, I doubt we will be seeing your sister anytime soon,"

There was a sigh, so silent and faint, that if it wasn't expected, Celestine would have missed it, "At your behest, my Lady,"

Celestine pushed open the double doors and waltzed in. nurses and doctors all paused their tasks to stare at the Saint and her companion. Some of them blinked and went about their work, but a few had to be prodded out of their stupor to get back to work, and the Saint found herself admiring the former group.

She was certain that both Eleannor and Genevieve would as well; both for differing reasons, but the point remained.

"Celestine, do you remember me!?" a patient called out from their wheelchair, another followed from their table.

Humans and Faunus. There were as many men as there were women amongst the patients. All trying to get her attention the same way a class of children would their teacher; being as loud as possible. Though some flinched away from the group, partly due to the noise, others seemed to fading back to unwanted memories, and others were people she didn't recognise,

Celestine held a hand up, "calm down, my hearing is perfectly fine, there is not a reason to shout,"

The dining hall quieted down, with even some of the staff watching on. The more who pay attention, the more I may be able to aid in faith,

A practised, gentle, and no less genuine smile formed, "I am sure the majority of you know who I am, but for those few who do not, I am Celestine, a Living Saint of the God-Emperor. This is one of my sisters, friends and guardians, Geneveive."

The Geminae Superia bowed her head slightly, but not once took her gaze off the collection of people. She stood up straight and placed her sword tip down and cupped her palms over the hilt.

"Another of mine may join us shortly, may not, it depends on how engrossed she is with aiding around this hospital," Celestine shrugged indifferently, partly because she knew it was true, and also due to the few chuckles she garnered. But more importantly above all else, it made them approachable.

Why shouldn't someone want to come talk to them if they were known to lend aid? As much as she hated it, her reputation held many, many benefits.

"Now, I am here to see those I aided from that ruined city, but those who were never there and are here for other reasons," Celestine looked out to the faces she didn't recognise at all with a welcoming smile and an open pair of palms, "please, feel free to stay if you have the time and health,"

Celestine glanced to her left and found an empty seat at a table of people, "I would ask to sit with you, however, my weight in armour would crush the seat,"

"You're not that heavy, are you?" one of the patients asked,

A small chuckle and a teasing tone came with her words, "asking a woman her weight is not advisable, especially if she's carrying a sword," Celestine tisked, much to the embarrassment of the patient, "I kid, however, outside of armour, I weigh roughly a hundred and fifty kilograms… I am not a small woman,"

"You're pretty damn tall!" another patient called,

Celestine nodded, "yes, and most of that weight also comes from muscle mass. I am a fighter, remember?" the majority of the room nodded at her rhetorical question, a classroom in a Schola… "in armour, I weigh at least three hundred kilograms maximum… I've never had a scale sturdy enough to measure,"

Another patient raised her hand, "so, how do you move so normally in that?"

Celestine stood taller, "my armour is Artiface of make, and holy in origin. It houses a small reactor to power itself and the servos inside the joints, as well as what is known as a 'fibro-layer'. As far as I have understood, it is a layer of false muscle that enhance my strength when paired with my armour,"

The same woman glanced at Genevieve, "what about your armour?"

Genevieve shared a look with Celestine and sighed at the subtle nod from the Saint. She looked back, "same concept, however this is enhanced Seraphim armour and jump pack,"

"I have a- a- a," the woman paused and took a breath. Celestine faced her with a patient smile and took note of the shaking in her single hand- her only hand- and her patience grew a little more for the woman, "Ne-never mmmind,"

Celestine tilted her head and took a step forward, "no, please, take your time,"

The woman gulped and the stump of where her arm from the elbow down should have been moved as if she tried to hold her other hand, "your p-prayers in- in the tunnels, they- they d-did something t-to you…"

The woman struggled to speak without her stutter and slurring, her sentence fading away as she looked away, leaving Celestine to interpret where the question was going,

"He answers the faithful, my dear," Celestine walked around the tables, her hand brushing along the edges and over shoulders, "I was not the only one that was faithful there, as many of you all had faith in myself to defend you all; and for that, I am thankful,"

Celestine found herself in front of the woman and knelt down, taking the woman's hand in her own softly, "now, what was your question?"

The woman avoided eye contact entirely,

"You did not have one, did you?" Celestine asked softly,

"N-no. I D-d-don't know what to- to ask,"

The Saint squeezed the hand gently, "then do not. Just be thankful that you are here and alive. Do you have family?"

"I-I do," she nodded, barely meeting Celetines eyes,

Celestine's smile widened, "then take the time He gave you to be with them! Do not focus on what you have lost, but what you have, and hold it dear,"

The woman lightened up a little. Not as much as she would have liked, but it was better than nothing at all. Perhaps, she simply didn't have the correct words, maybe her path was different that what Celestine was trying to put her on. But that was all she could do for these people.

Celestine rose and glanced around the room. All she could do was try and help them, usher them to the light of His embrace. And that all started with this.

The questions and conversations kept coming, and Celestine answered them all with a small smile or deflected them if she particularly needed to. Playing the perfect little political Saint the Ecclesiarchy would love her to be. But this was all for something she wanted, not an old, dying man who craves power.

It wouldn't come to fruition yet, she had to put things into motion, but planting ideas and making a name she wanted to make was all she needed to do.

A few hours passed and her throat was starting to feel sore. Patients and staff came and went, leaving her with the ebbing flow of socialising and now kneeling in front of a patient,

"This may be strange," the man started, "but the Brothers each have books on their teachings… do you have one for your Emperor?"

"Not at this time, no, however, I can make a copy if you wish," Celestine put her hand on his knee, "or do you have a Scroll on you? I can write down some prayers to recite morning, night and before meals,"

The man nodded and fished out his small, civilian-grade Scroll. It didn't collapse like hers or any of the other's did, but he pressed the little diamond shaped button and the touch screen lit up in shades of blue and white. Noting that it didn't have colour unlike her own.

She held her palm out and pulled her own Scroll out of a pouch she had made. Celestine opened the notepad application on both, one was empty while the other was categorised into prayers, hymns and scriptures. She began to type, but paused,

Celestine glanced up at the man, "I have another idea, but do not fret, you will get your prayers in a moment. May I have your attention, please?" Celestine stood with her voice raised to get over the idle conversations,

"I am handing out prayers and scriptures to those who would like them; so, if you do want them, please, come up with your Scroll Identification numbers and I shall send them to you," Celestine grinned and it grew wider as a large majority got up or rolled over in their wheelchairs, forming a small, orderly line without being asked.

Many were those from the mountain, but a handful were people who weren't. It mattered not to the Saint, just that the road to gaining loyal followers had begun. All she needed now was a place to meet and pray; she was sure Ironwood or Greyfax could organise a place…

And as she began to create a mass-message group, she couldn't help but notice Greyfax was awfully quiet. Then again, with her, no news was good news… most of the time…

Her mind wandered back to what she'd need. Some servo-skulls, copies of scriptures and banners of the Saints… perhaps a few lesser relics of martyrs as well; the Convent Prioris would be likely to have all she wanted and nee-

Her mood dropped as soon as she realised one vital thing; Valoris was going to be waiting for her, and she knew that even the Emperor Himself was most likely not going to be able to save her.

Celestine hid the wince and cringe she made from the patients and staff, but Genevieve saw it immediately.

She finished up collecting the numbers and copied the Ecclesiarchy Sanctioned scriptures over, then sent them. The room filled with notification sounds almost immediately and Celestine bowed her head,

"I fear that brings this to an end, as I have many tasks to complete," Celestine smiled out to them all, "I may be in touch if certain events come to fruition; however, may His light watch over you all, on your journeys and in death should it come. I bid farewell and amen,"

Surprisingly, a few echoed her 'amen' back, and she disappeared with Genevieve in a ball of gold light. She appeared next to Eleannor, accidentally knocking over an empty tray on a cart.

"Frack," Celestine muttered,

"Lady, are you alright?" Eleannor and Geneveive asked simultaneously,

Celestine picked the mess up and tidied the cart, then took a small breath, "no. I have to meet the Captain-General and explain to him that I did not intend to steal an ancient, dangerous vehicle, and lose track of a Primarch…"

Eleannor and Genevieve shared a glance, mirroring each other's movements perfectly with their head tilt and concern, "which one?"

"Sanguinius," Celestine clicked her tongue at the wide eyed looks she got from them, "that is how I feel internally, yes,"

Genevieve held her chin high, "I will come with-"

"No," Celestine shook her head, "I can and will face the consequences myself. You both will stay here and aid Kotek in what needs to be done."

---

"That thing is still out there,"

"Of course it is," she sneered out the window, down at the Xenos, "why that wretched offence to life is still alive, I won't ever understand,"

Six months in the Dark City, fighting in arenas and slaving for the all-female cult of Wyches. Cleaning rooms of bodies and drugs, polishing blades and maintaining their putrid weapons. Her hands still tingled with the sensations of their skin and what passed for soap in their City.

Corporal Hael pulled the hem of her BDU as she tried to polish up the flak armour. Her comrade, A mere private from a colony world- a Cadian colony world, watched the Wych Queen through the iron-sights of his Lasgun.

"You're wasting time sitting there like that," she told him, "our 'packs are fried as much as our Las' are,"

He glanced back at her with an eye roll. Through the months, she came to know him as strictly 'brown eyes', not his given name of 'Hallard', "I'd rather watch that thing through a scope if I had one,"

It was Hael's turn to roll her eyes, "and I'd rather be manning a Vox, but neither of us have what we want, do we?"

"We're alive, right?" Hallard chuckled and slipped from his make-shift position, the Lasgun falling down into his shoulder, "survived that shit-hole, now we've got a fracking Saint and Custodian with us!"

"And an Inquisitor," she sighed and tossed her damaged armour to the side, "I didn't survive Cadia to be shot by an Inquisitor,"

Hallard waved her off, "if we were going to be executed, Lady Celestine would have done so already. It is His will that kept us here, and I don't plan to give up yet,"

Hael let out a small chuckle and shook her head as she rubbed the chestplate in her lap with a cloth, "neither do I. The Saint came to the defence of my world, nearly gave her life for it, if the rumours are true,"

"There's a lot of rumours around her," he clambered back up onto the stacked shelves and looked down over the field, "frack, the thing and child are gone,"

An annoyed sigh left her and she glared at his back, "the Saint and Custodian have sanctified her existence, leave it be,"

He groaned in irritation and all but threw down his Lasgun in frustration as he let himself fall off the nest and against the wall, "seven months! Seven fracking months in that wretched place, and that thing gets to waltz in and take us away! And now a fracking Saint is buddy-buddy with it!"

"If Celestine is allowing her continued life, then He must have some plan," Hael rationalised. What other reason could there be? A Saint, let alone the Living Saint wouldn't turn on them with those wretched, light fearing freaks. There had to be a reasoning that only the Emperor would understand, there always was.

"It's not our job to question, that's what the Inquisition is for," Hael softened her tone at the disbelieving look Hallard gave her, "I'm unnerved by how they interacted, how… friendly it was. If it was anyone but Celestine, I would have tried to kill her on the spot,"

"And how well do you think that would have gone, Mon'keigh?"

The two Cadians startled and snapped their Lasguns up. The Wych remained standing against the wall, one foot up on it and her arms crossed and pushing up, accentuating her chest with an indifferent look on her face.

"Get the frack away from us, wench," Hallard spat at her, shaking his Lasgun in emphasis,

The Wych rose a brow, "the child has far more creative insults that that,"

Hael glared down at her sights, barrel trained on the heart of the Xenos, "What do you want?"

"Entertainment,"

The Cadians blinked slowly, sharing a brief glance at each other. Hael snarled, "no, you don't get to use us after everything you did,"

The Wych put a hand to her chest, in mock offence, but her eyes remained as annoyingly sleek and unfazed as normal, "I did nothing to either of you. If anything, I am the sole reason why you are not pieces of meat for my Wyches to feast upon,"

"You lead them. You ordered us to be gathered up for that slaughter," Hallard growled,

A scoff and the Wych rolled her eyes, "you call that a slaughter? No wonder why you Mon'keigh break under pressure; no, a true slaughter of my design would have pit Commorragh against itself, Drukhari, slaves and everything in between included,"

Hael blinked and narrowed her eyes at the Wych, her Lasgun lowering slightly, "death was waiting for us,"

"And it still does," Lelith sang, her voice a perfect mix of sultry and calm command. If it was attached to anyone else, Hael might've called it attractive, "death awaits us all, it matters not the species,"

Hael glared even more, "I don't need a lecture on death from someone lacking decency,"

At that, Lelith snorted in a very unlady-like manner, "everyone tends to get so caught up on my lack of clothing and points it out as if it is an insult. None grasp that I care not for how much I show, and it does more than intended at the same time,"

Hallard scoffed at the Wych, "and that is?"

He flinched well after it was too late, and well into his arm being pinned to the wall by the thrown blade, pinning it through the cuff of his BDU,

Lelith smirked at the shock he wore and sauntered up to him with slow, rhythmic steps that swayed her hips in all the right ways, "keep staring at my chest, it may be the last good sight you will ever have,"

With a kaleidoscope of colour, the blade was removed, and the Wych was gone.

"What the frack was that?" Hael exclaimed and fell back, her hands over her face while Hallard swallowed deeply, "what the actual frack was that!?"

Hallard massaged his wrist with a scowl at the open doorway, "she wanted entertainment, right? I think we gave her enough to make her leave,"

"I hope she stays gone," Hael sighed and shook her head. She returned to polishing the beaten and shipped armour as best she could, uttering a litany as she went, "look to you battle gear and it will protect you-"

---

The last thing she remembered was the concerned look on her Geminae Superia's faces. Then the screaming whirlwind of the Warp's miasma. Like before, it rebelled against her, pushed and pulled at her to stop, and became as thick as molasses in her lungs in an attempt to suffocate her. Darkness and light all as one in blinding succession, creatures and nothing tearing at all around her, trying to get to her incorporeal but entirely accessible form.

It was gone as quickly as it came.

And as quickly as the ground approached her.

She slammed into the marble flooring and bounced into a violent roll into the base of a gargantuan statue.

Celestine groaned with a slight splutter and fell onto her back; her servo-skull held Iron Halo hung above her head now, narrowly avoiding the violent transition somehow.

She refocused her eyes to the statue and took in the bitter feeling of karma as Sanguinus' marble form stood over her.

"I see the irony is not lost on you,"

Celestine shook her head and tried to stand, however the end of a Guardian Spear held her down, while the blade of another was within millimetres of her eye, another at her abdomen. A gnawing illness sapped at her will and soul, draining her of everything while her wings fizzled out of existence.

Valoris pushed his weapons' hilt down into her armoured chest harder, the Ceremite groaned in protest. She knew if he wanted, her chest would be caved in in a matter of milliseconds, "Good. I will ask once; if I do not find your answers satisfactory, I will let Our Lord decide your fate, is this understood?"

Celestine gulped and stared up at the scowling Captain-General, "as clear as can be, my Lord,"

---

The ringed eyes stared back at her, knowingly or not. The agony the creature was in made her skin crawl, but kept her heart pumping. Long ago adrenaline stopped working, as did most of her receptors for pain, leaving these connections one of the few ways she could feel pain.

And she frowned as the connection was cut and the Seer went blank.

Salem craned her neck to either side harshly, and Tyrian flinched as a muffled snap sounded from the Queen. Her head hung limply and off centre for a moment, then she flinched as the head realigned itself like a puppet having its strings pulled.

Salem sighed and brushed the Seer away, "What have you uncovered?"

Hazel knelt before her, hiding the unconscious flinch at the shrieks outside the throne. He took a breath, then spoke as calmly as ever would, "General James Ironwood is being searched for by the 'Saint', My Lady,"

"And the results?" her tone was almost bored,

"As of this moment, he is yet to be recovered,"

She sighed, but it was an empty one; an action put on repeat without meaning, "and here I thought I ordered all the followers to stand down,"

Tyrian fell forward onto his hands, grovelling with a shaky voice, "I did as you asked, My Queen, I have done what you have wanted!" Tyrian's tone took on an abrupt edge, "let me hunt down those who defied your will, I will ensure it will not happen again!"

Salem lazily raised a silencing hand, "Hazel, finish your report. Tyrian, You are to shadow Rhodes, the man is growing distant and becoming a liability, ensure his new task is done,"

Tyrian bowed even further into his place on the floor, then rose with glee and glassy eyes, "and if he does become a liability, my Queen?"

"Kill him. Make sure the 'Inquisitor' does not get her hands on him," Salem sat back in what looked to be a haughty posture, but her face gave nothing away; just like the sigh, it was an action without meaning, "now go, you have proven yourself to be one of the stronger links… being discrete is your top priority; something else is here and I want none of its attention,"

Tyrian bowed once more with a small, unhinged giggle and almost skipped out of the throne room, leaving Hazel alone with the Queen of Grimm.

"As you were reporting, Hazel?"

He cleared his throat and continued to let his gaze linger on the cold, black floor, "the one who calls himself a 'Custodian' has taken a seat on the Atlesian Council and there are rumours of the Inquisitor forming her own sect of power in the Kingdom,"

"What substantiates these rumours?"

"It has little to no evidence, however, given they have rapidly seized power, I believed it was worth noting,"

Salem hummed, "Either way, they have gained power, and will continue to do so; I would like to know why,"

At his brief glance up and his silence, Salem elaborated, "I would like to know how much they are aware of, do they know of Ozma and I, or are they taking power out of authoritarian reflex?"

Hazel let out a small hum of his own and licked his lips, "May I speak freely?"

"You may,"

"They speak of a wider galaxy, not just our own planet, and do so freely," He took a breath, "that thing in the sky… do you believe it to be their doing?"

She was quiet for a moment, contemplating the question. The Queen was not one of useless conjecture or excessive words, yet she still contemplated the possibilities out there,

"No. You may not sense it, but it is leeching on this world; leering down upon it with a gaze of thirst," Salem frowned, "It can not be created by something like Celestine; she is bright, though she is but a spark that will be blown out and forgotten about in time. But do not underestimate her, or any of them,"

"I understand," Hazel bowed his head again, "is there anything else?"

"Merlot and Watts have some… tests to do, ones that, if proven fruitful, will aid us in the coming fight," Salem closed her eyes, "The Custodian is the brawn of them all, it is dangerous in any form of combat, that we all are aware of, however, with Merlot and Watts' research and your potential, we may give the Custodian a match in prowess,"

Hazel furrowed his brows and hid his concern, "With… me?"

"When the time comes to strike down Ozma, the Custodian may stand in our way," Salem sat forward, her tone softening significantly, "they are not above using children to fight for them, that we know with the loss of Rhodes' target…"

His mind filled with Gretchen's laugh, and the hot anger at Ozpin when he broke the news. Sacrifices and pawns, that's all the Hunters were to the man- the monster in human skin, hiding from the world.

"Whatever needs to be done, Your Highness," Hazel growled out, "they will all be brought to their knees,"

"Good," Salem's smile was heard, "go speak with Merlot and Watts."

Hazel came up from his crouched bow silently, tipping his head in acknowledgement of the order, and rolled his shoulders as he made his way out of the throne room. Through the chamber doors, Seers flooded inside. They surrounded Salem and flickered on, each one showing some type of scenery or sigil.

A few he knew at a glance; Vale, Vaccuo and many locations in Mistral; even Mantle's walls.

He turned back and left the room. She wouldn't appreciate him lingering any longer.

---

A/N

As it turns out, I have ADHD which puts a lot into perspective and is part of the reason why I disappeared for a long time. Executive Dysfunction is a real bitch.

As for the next chapter, IDK when, but I've been working on it since halfway through this one to force myself to get back into gear, but again, unmedicated ADHD. I'll try to get it out faster since it's clear people actually like what I'm writing despite its flaws. (like my inability to use numbers correctly lol)

Anyway, the gang is sort of back together, know of Salem in some sense and now have the beginnings of a true Imperial Cult forming while Marcus is finally dealt with. Salem finally makes an appearance, and in case it wasn't clear, she was in control of the Grimm Sanguinius fought and really doesn't want his attention through vibes alone.

I consciously made the parts after the reveal of Chaos, the Imperium and the Lore-dump rather small to try and make it easier to get through.

In other news, despite being a 24yr/o, I squealed like a little girl on the announcement of Lelith's book, and I adore how she was depicted as a sultry, flirtatious shitter with angst throughout, and, spoilers for the book, more than powerful enough to make Vect back the fuck down.

Best/worst girl. Fight me.

A fat chunk of Sanguinius/Grimm fight , a lot of Baal and the word vomit of the lore-dump was overhauled and rewritten by Maglad, so thanks for fixing that cluster-fuck and Editing this as well.

---

OMAKE

Lelith stood in the kitchen, surrounded by bowls and glasses of seasoning, oils, flour and all manner of spices. She decided that after Commorragh, she was hungry, but wanted to try some more of what Atlas and in turn Remnant had to offer her in terms of food. She was never particularly picky with food, Commorrgah's streets didn't offer much to choose from either when she was out on her own.

But she could enjoy a good meal made by her own efforts anytime.

So, what better way than to test the basics to judge the whole?

She looked down at the instructions and hummed, holding a piece of chicken as if it held the answers to the universe, "twenty minutes if you have small breasts, thirty if you have large ones,"

She glanced down at her chest and blinked, "make that forty,"

Why was that an important factor, she had no clue.

"What are you doing?" Emerald chirped from behind the kitchen's counter.

"Cooking."

Emerald popped up onto the seat a moment later and made herself comfortable, "Can I help?"

"...sure." After a moment's thought, she decided to average things out. "This should take about 25 minutes or so."

And thus dinner was safe, though the Wych was still left confused by the instructions.