This is fan fiction and is unofficial and in no way associated with Games Workshop Limited

Thank you everyone for being patient that have been reading my stories. Here is chapter 6! please let me know what you think.

Chapter 6 Book 2 The city of brass and iron

Sharue did not know how far she had traveled at this point. Every time she thought the mountains were coming close, they would seem to slip away in the distance. It frustrated her to no end, the continually changing laws of reality that plagued this planet.

Stopping, she took a short break leaning on the makeshift staff she had made. The carcass of a downed ship laid in the red sands before her. Almost every time she looked up in the sky, something was burning and coming down. War was ragging up there, and she didn't know why. Was it retribution for bringing down the Endless Night? The thoughts of the ship she called homemade her grit her teeth. Shaking off the thought, she looked back down to the wreak.

It was best to avoid them. Daemons and mutants would be crawling over them, killing and plundering the wrecks. Letting out a sigh, Sharue started to head around it, keeping an eye out for anyone that may be around.

+We are near the city+

A growl grew in her throat. Anger was coming quicker to her, a knee-jerk reaction to help keep the anxiety and worry down. "You keep saying that. We don't seem to be any closer than we were a week ago." She hissed out, digging her claws into the wood that she held before adding "Master."

+We are, time and distance is not something that is relative here+

She was getting tired of this nonsense, but it was a fact she had grown to accept. The laws of reality do not care what you wish or want here.

Taking a moment to relax and unclench her jaw, she looked about, and just like the Daemon said, she found herself a considerable distance away from the wreck. “I fracking hate this place…" she muttered, taking another break before pulling out her water source to sip from. The odd organ refused to die, which was a good thing for her, but still, each time she put her lips to it, she wanted to gag.

Looping it back into her cloth rags, she sat just staring out over the sands. Today the sun was up, but the temperature was cold. Frost lined the shadows of the dunes, and one thing she had learned is the husks didn't like the cold. They would be buried down deep till it warmed up again. These days were the more pleasant ones compared to the blazing hot ones.

She needed to get her wrappings off her feet too. One thing she learned was that sand is very abrasive. Simply walking through it would cause sores between her toes as the sand pooled and rubbed about in-between them. Shaking a foot out, she enjoyed the simple act of just focusing on something so simple. Working her fingers between her toes, she let her mind just become numb to things till she looked up and jumped up, startled. A figure stood there out on the dunes looking her way.

For a while, she had felt that someone or something had been following her. Sharue had never caught sight of what it was that made her feel like that, but now, seeing this figure, she felt it was whoever this was. Looking about for her stick, she pulled it up out of the sand only to look back and, the figure was gone.

“I know I wasn’t seeing things.” She muttered.

When she looked back down at her feet, a sudden shadow fell across them, forcing her to look up and, with a startle, stumbled back as the figure was just mere feet away.

“What the frack?!” The words coming from her muzzle just before she was able to raise her kien shield blocking the sudden strike the Albino sent into her from the sands. It wasn’t like he hit her with his body, no the sands itself seemed to well up and lash out at her.

The green flare of her shield showing before absorbing the impacts. This gave her the needed strength to lash outback. A burst of energy warmed the air, expanding exponentially before releasing out in an uncontrolled manner.

When the dust settled, the figure was gone. Blinking, Sharue looked about, turning left and right in a simi panicked manner. "Ok, you grok shit where did you go?" The phrase being muttered under her breath as she narrowed her eyes, scanning for this new threat.

+Calm your self mortal.+ The unwelcome advice making her fur stand up on her neck.

+Frack off….+ rage was building up in her quickly, and she could feel the sword's weight already pulling her wrist down as it seemingly found its way back into her paw yet again.

+You need to take this one seriously, Sharue.+ The sudden punishing throb forced her to flutter her eyes and grip harder on the sword. "I SAID FRACK OFF!" She bellowed out loud this time.

“Issues?”

The new voice made Sharue twist and bare her teeth at the figure who now stood a little to her left. “Oh my, such a nasty look.”

The albino figure stood there, on top of the sand, as if he had no weight. The grains of sand moving and flowing around him like water. "To be young and feel such rage again. That would be a wonderous thing. Please, allow me to introduce myself." The figure giving an exaggerated bow. "I am simply called…." before giving a dramatic pause. "Lugran." Another long break before he took one step then another towards her. "I have been tasked to invite you to meet with my mistress; I do hope you refuse as I will enjoy forcing you to come."

Sharue did not like his mannerism nor how he stood with such confidence against her. Who the hell was this? Was he a daemon? A mutant?....a psyker?

+Calm yourself!+

The lancing pain almost sent her to her knees, forcing her to reach up to grip her head. There was a tone of urgency with her Master this time. Something was wrong with this individual. Though the pain only made her grip harder on the sword. "I said shut up!" The anger helping push the pain away.

"Are you talking to me?" The Albino asked, pointing at his chest in a calm jester. "Does that mean you're refusing her summons?" He added. His face distorting into a cruel and exaggerated grin that showed off his sharpened teeth.

It was extremely hard concentrating on both at the same time. Her Master was wrangling with her rage, trying to fight through it to get to her. Whoever this was, was biding for her attention in a very threatening way.

Taking a moment, she seethed through her clenched teeth. "Leave….me….alone!" Emphasizing each word. Something felt off; it felt wrong. The rage she was feeling was on a different level than she usually felt. It was boiling in her to the point that the sword took on a newer look, the rust flacking off to show true steel, and another link in her cuff chains seemed to form.

"Oh my, that nasty little thing really has bitten into you, hasn't it?" Lugran said, pointing to the sword. "Do you even know what that is doing to you?" The voice coming from him had such a taunting sound to it.

"Damn you, leave me alone!" She bellowed out and took a step towards the new threat. A threat that agitated her greatly, and she wanted it gone.

"I simply can't, dear." He said with a grin. "I find it interesting that you must hate your powers so much that you pulled the sword of the oppressed to you. It took me a little bit, but I found out what that devilish thing is. Your pure hatred of your powers, and maybe yourself, keeps that monster attached to you; I mean, I can see why with how the blood god hates psykers. Though that feeling of hate and oppression.”

It wasn't clear to her who the blood god was or the news of the sword. She was finding it more challenging to focus though, it felt…good in a way. Her Master's voice and the pain he was inflicting seemed more distant. She did want to lose herself in the feeling; it drowned out her anxiety, her pain, it made it so the only answer to what pained her was to lash out at it. It gave her focus and took away the need to think about consequences.

There was a long pause, and then Lugran dropped the smile and sighed. "If only I truly felt those feelings instead of putting on a fake front. There is one feeling, though, one that I must say thank you for allowing me to feel. It had been so long since I felt this one too. Jealousy, I loath that you have my Mistresses such undivided attention. You prance around in our world drawing the attention of the four and don’t pay them any mind. You even have the gal to think that you can refuse them!” He bellowed out with a laugh.

"To think, you, a simple mortal, could refuse their calls." He said, trying to stifle his laughter before sighing. "But that is what enrages me. You have a wondrous gift, and you refuse it! You refuse those who gifted you, and you refuse to feel what such attention could bestow on you. You…"
That was when Lugran had to back peddle as Sharue lunged at him, trying to cut him. "You talk too much!" She snapped out, feeling herself fight the sands for footing as Lugran easily backed away. He was standing on the sands as if they were hard as a rock.

"Oh, but this is the fun!" He said, "You see because I hate you, I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you bad. Not enough to kill you, as my Mistress would be extremely upset with me. Though I may kill you just to experience that…" He said, eyes going wide as if he never thought of that only to hiss back to life as the sword narrowly missed his neck. "You screech like a spoiled brat, and it's time someone put you in your place!”

Sharue suddenly felt herself lifted up by the sand, and then another pillar of sand struck her, sending her flying and tumbling till she came to rest face down. Wheezing, she tried to catch her breath, paws trying to grab at her sword wherever it had gone. Her world turning into a tumbling blur, how had he struck her so suddenly? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the power to bring up her kien shield; it was as if she hadn't even thought about it. Her mind was so clouded with the rage that the first thought was not to bring up something to defend herself but to lash out at the annoyance that was plaguing her.

"Your mind is weak! I have been watching you for some time, and I know how you are. You're like a child wielding a sledgehammer. Relying on brute strength to get through every situation but unable to do anything if you cannot get your filthy little paws on that hammer.”

Before she could get her breath back, she found herself flying through the air again, the same sand she was walking on becoming her enemy, it seemed as she landed hard on her side. Thankfully she had found the sword before she was sent tumbling. The more it hurt, the more she lost her own self-control.

"I will let you mull it over some," Lugran said mockingly as he walked over to her. A cruel grin still formed on his face, his shadow falling over her prone form.

Gasping and in pain, she lashed out, trying to grab and claw at him only to have her paws knocked away before he simply stepped back. "Come now, even a novice should be able to understand what I have done. I mean, you did have some defenses. Though they were inferior. You're a very distracted being, you know that?"

She was being paralyzed by the same rage that also let her escape the feelings and responsibilities. She wanted to lash out, to hurt this individual but all she could do is lash out with that damn sword. Looking at it in her paw, she clenched her eyes shut and bared her teeth. Even with her head half in the sand, she started to wrestle with her control. The sand shifting and rippling, making Lugran hop back a step or two.

"Oh my, you are strong," Lugran said, allowing that leering sing-song voice to poke and prod at her already frayed nerves.

Sharue struggled to focus her powers, though the rage didn't allow her to see this fatal flaw. Slowly she got to her feet, half swaying and half slouched, gripping the sword so tight that the tendons strained even through her fur.

“Oh? Are we ready to get serious now?” Lugran asked mockingly before suddenly sending her flying sideways as a giant ball of sand struck her. It hurt, and while she had gone through pain when she first got here, it had been some time since she had faced a threat that could hurt her like this. That was when she struck her head on something and lost all focus.

The world around her seemed to be a blur, images swirled and twisted, becoming horrible parodies of what she knew them to be. Faces that laughed at her, others taunting her, it was all so close. Almost as if she could reach out and touch them. So close that she could not see her Master and so loud that she could not hear his voice. +DAMN YOU ALL!+ she screamed out at….everything. What was going on?! It was scary, the loss of control. It was like a vortex that threatened to pull her away and send her floundering in a sea of madness. Had it always been there?

She had become accustomed to having the power to defend herself, and to be helpless to Lugran was both frightening and infuriating at the same time. That was when she was starting to come around. Sharue found her face being rolled out of the sand. Quickly she found herself laying on her back with the Albino laying on her, pinning her down with his hands around her neck.

“Oh, how I wanted to feel you struggle under me." He hissed out as Sharue slowly came back to reality with a startle. Her eyes fluttering open, then went wide as she lashed out with her claws and paws grabbing and raking along the Albino's arms as she coughed and gagged. He was pushing down hard, making her jaws gag open her feet kicking about behind the male. He even lifted her head up to slam it down into the sand again and again.

"I despise you! My Mistress swoons over you, and not me!" He thumped her head again, making her lose focus. This psyco was really going to kill her; she felt if she didn't figure something out! That was when she felt the sword in her paws again. Quickly she jabbed it into the figure on top of her.

A pained scream came from the Albino, followed by angry cursing as he tumbled off her, and the sands once again sent her flying.

“Oh, the pain…" Lugran gasped out and then started to laugh. “OH! THE PAIN!" Standing, he had a wound that had separated his bicep from his arm, and the meat was simply hanging from his arm. "Oh, the pain….and the rage! That sword enrages me, and it feels good."

The sands were battering her again before suddenly they stopped. "No, I can't kill her," Lugran said to himself. “I…I have to keep her alive.” Taking a deep breath, he stood and allowed his flesh to lift up and go back into place. It didn't heal, but strands of blood and fluid were grabbing and holding it in place. It was apparent that Lugran was in pain, but instead of becoming debilitated by it, it seemed to give him excitement.

The short between waking and the time she struck him had been a more lucid one. “You fracking maniac!” Sharue managed to cough out, trying to crawl away. What the frack was going on? Why wasn't she using her powers, and why was he beating her so hard!? , those lucid thoughts were quickly dissolving away as the sword found itself to her yet again. Standing, she watched in disgust as Lugran just stood there digging his fingers into his wound and reveling in the sensation of it. Though what surprised her more was the slow smile creeping into her own face.


Lugran must have been distracted enough with his current sensation that he let his mind slip. His physical form tensing and he quickly looked to Sharue. She had regained some of herself, and that would not do. She was such a dull and straightforward beast when it came down to it. So easily goaded and so easily manipulated! It was thrilling to play puppet master, but at the same time, much like everything he did, it lacked that sharp sting of sensation.

He had been devising this plan for a little while now. The sword of the oppressed was a blood god relic, one that choked out coherent thought with the rage of the beast. The more she fed it, the more hold it had on her. All he had to do is gently caress her memories, her feelings, her desires. She was such a simple creation that it was like playing with a child's toy. Even her Master was unable to get through the storm that he had created in her mind.

He did have to admit, the storm she was creating was one that even made him apprehensive. As long as she let the rage dictate her actions, she would not use her powers. The blood god loathed the powers of the sorcerer, and so he knew that the rage would not dip into them. Though if she were to realize that, he would be sundered in an instant. That, THAT feeling right there, made his skin crawl and his tongue lick out along his teeth and lips. He was playing with fire, and he loved it. She might be a simple beast but one that was dangerous. To flirt with it was intoxicating. He would call this her prison, one in which she created herself with no cages or bars but one she willingly stayed in. All it took was a gentle prodding here and there.

That was why she was such a simple creature. She had no concept of how to stop the Albion's manipulation. Sure, she could see a direct attack from some brute that roared at her in her mind. But a gentle breeze that just softly rubbed at her in a way that agitated her? And her not knowing why? That was the magic he was performing.

The Albino grinning as the sheer force of her nature was threatening to tear it herself apart and with her him as well. She was stronger by far in terms of raw power but was a one-trick wonder. She had a sledgehammer, and that was all she knew how to use. She had no finesse, no grace to her use of the power, no elegance, and that was what enraged him the most.

As long as he could keep her mind trapped in the fake prison he created, he could keep her cut off from her powers. She hadn't realized yet that he could manipulate fluids. The tiny moisture in the sand, blood, the very moisture in the air, and even in plants, if he wanted to, he could simply create a stroke in her mind and kill her right here. He was sure if he did that, his Mistress would never forgive him, and he would spend an eternity of torment to feel nothing.

“Oh my, someone is mad….” He muttered before sending the sands bellowing into her rolling her across the red sands.

She screamed, making Lugran flinch a bit. As much as he loathed her, it didn’t make her any less dangerous. This was one of the most dangerous places to be, inside the cage with a wild animal.

"My, have you changed, from the meek sobbing fool to the raging beast. You really do not take stress well, do you? I don't suppose I could convince you to just come along?" He taunted again, using the sands to batter the fox about a bit more. There was an enormous risk taking so much time to subdue the fox. The longer he toyed with her, the more dangerous she could become either by finding a way to calm herself or allow the sword to fully take over. If he let the blade get too much of a grip on her, then it would push out everything he was doing. The blood god had the ability to shrug off the powers of the witch after all, and while he was skilled at manipulating the warp, he was not as good at hand-to-hand combat. The cut in him was proof enough that he would be at a significant disadvantage if that happened.

“I have had my fun; it is time we end this." Using his powers, he suddenly started to change and slow her blood flow. It took a few moments, but her struggling with the sand became weaker, she began to become sick looking, and he watched as her eyes started to roll back. He wouldn't have been able to do this directly before because she would have known someone was in her mind or affecting her. He had to get her so angry that she couldn't think of anything else. Keep her focused on the hate for herself and those that hurt her. It allowed him to do whatever he wanted, slip past her defensives and wander her mind like an empty fortress.

"To think, you have the strength to warp the very fabric of reality and even the warp, and yet you couldn't even deal with little ol me." He said quietly, almost sadly, as Sharue’s struggles became sluggish. Her jaws going slack as her eyes rolled up fully, and unconsciousness took her entirely.

Reaching down, he picked up her limp form and sighed, pulling out some restraints and a blinder. It was going to be a little bit of a trek back to the City of Brass. He would rather she not be as combative as she was here. If she fought too much, he would have to render her unconscious again though playing with a mortal's blood flow always raised a risk of damage or death. They were such frail things.

Raising up a hand, he let a small steam of water lift from the ground. Speaking into it, he simply said. "Mistress, I have our guest, and I will be coming home soon." The vibrations of his voice traveling through the fluid all the way back to the City of Brass.

Hefting her up, he put her over his shoulder and started back. He was glad that she had not yet tapped into her more devastating ability. He was unsure how the Mistress would deal with her if the fox somehow figured out how to tap into it. Patting her unconscious form, he simply started off, letting the water firm the sand under his feet with each step making it much easier to move through the soft sands.

The kiss was within his grasp. Once he dropped the fox off, he would receive it, and that really was the only thing keeping him from killing this mortal.


Corbel watched the screen as the battle barge slowly moved into position. It had been odd that Issa and her forces had not yet tried to intervene with his forces yet. He knew that it was coming just now how. His power of foresight was murky around such a corrupted world, but even so, he had never been able to divine his own path well. Only when his path crossed another did it become more apparent his role.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, he reached out to take his force staff from its resting place. Many would view it as holy in the new era of this universe. The wolves had weathered the wave of change across his kind throughout the universe better than most. He knew it to be just technology. One that converged with the chaos that is the warp, but it was just that, technology. There was no god-emperor, and the gods that did haunt the warp knew of mortal strife very little.

“The ships are ready.”

His trusted Sargent had a slight undertone of excitement. The wolves’ blood was running hot, a trait that tended to be almost infectious among their kind.

"Very well." Corbel turned and started to leave. He was in his full battle plate, a heavy pelt hanging over his shoulder pauldron and his tomb and script marking him as a rune priest of the fang. It had been a long-time since he was fully geared up and ready for combat. There was some ceremony, Imperial staff lining the halls, fists to their chest and heads bowed.

The Sargent had arranged a crew of grey hunters and some wolf guard in terminator plate. They did not want the force so large it became cumbersome to move with, but they needed enough to have a bite if push came to shove.

The bay doors were open, allowing them to see the world below through the docking bays. Flickering shields kept the void from sucking everything out, giving an almost holo screen effect to what they were looking at.

“This is going to be a tough fight, but if that little psyker has made it this far, then let us hope the bones land in our favor."

Corbel thought on it some before responding. "She has only survived because the wills at play allow it. Strong as she is, she is nothing compared to the perils that await us there. So be careful, Sargent; those bones may be getting tossed by hands you may have to bite."

Warily the Sargent nodded as Corbel knew more about these things than him, but he also wanted to stay optimistic. Even if they were willing to die to a man for him, it was better to do so with hope in your heart than gloom.

“I suppose it is more complicated than most would make it seem.” The Sargent said before offering a nod to his commander. “Either way, the enemy will know our howl and feel our teeth.” The stern Sargent had moved into more of a battle mentality and was eager to lead the charge.

Corbel had guessed that there was some resentment being assigned as his caretaker. A crack in a mind that might be exploited by powers later on. The Astratus were enhanced, not invincible after all. It was better to have the Sargent feel needed and part of the team than leave him on the ship. Powers extended out beyond the surface after all. The Daemon that he slew before coming here was proof of that. It would be devastating if something happened to the battle barge itself.

"Let's proceed." Corbel finally said, taking a step to one of the ships. The rest of the Space Marines started to file in and secure. Soon after that, there were only streaks of fire from the ships' body's friction entering into the atmosphere. The hunt had begun.


Issa watched from her monitor as the contrails of the departing ships were visible to her monitoring craft. Her scouting drone able to watch from afar to keep an eye on this thorn in her side. Slowly she got up and walked over to a bowl. Loathing what came next, she pricked her paw and started to write on the bowl till finally the runic powers almost hurt her eyes to look at. After that, she pulled out a bottle that contained more blood from other sources. While she needed to use her own blood, fresh, to write the runes, thankfully, she didn't need to waste any more of her own blood to complete the ritual. The blood of others would work just as well, and they should be honored she found a use for them.

She was a psyker, and she needed guidance. Her Master had introduced this saint when they worked together, and it had been ages since she sought out its favor. There was a stillness in the air before a cold frost spread from the bowl to the counter. Soon even her breath started to show. "Honorable Issa, it has been too long." The blood rippling with the voice as if it had turned into a vox unit.

"Saint, I have been working diligently on the plan, but there have been some developments that worry me. I seek out your council." This saint that her Master introduced to her was one of the very few beings she respected and ensured proper respect. There was a pause before the blood rippled. "Explain."

Going through the recent events, she covered the introduction of the world engine and the wolves. The being listened and eventually responded back, "You could simply take the psyker from them and let the wolves do all the work for you. I can help arrange this as well.”

Issa frowned, looking down at her own reflection in the blood. "How my lord?" She was growing frustrated with Brickwall’s harassment, and now that Corbel was here, she could feel her mental armor slip. She was losing her temper easier, and she had almost lost it on one of her menials. She did not need rumors going about her being insecure.

"Place your paw into the blood, and I will show you."

Issa did so as her paw sank in the thick fluid and gasped. Her eyes rolling up as the runic symbols glowed. She stayed like that for a short bit of time before gasping and pulling her paw back slowly out of the blood.

“Do you understand?”

Issa smiled softly. "I do, my lord, and thank you for this gift." Her paw hovering over the blood allowing thick droplets to drip into it.

"Remember Issa, only you can do this. You are the chosen from your Master, and you will lead the Imperium into a new age. Stay the course; the hardships you bear will only be badges of honor when this bears fruit."

Then the blood stilled, and Issa swayed, going to her knees and gasping. Her paw staying over the bowl as she didn't dare get the blood anywhere else. Taking several deep breaths, Issa finally stood again to clean her paw off. She had work to do; if what the saint showed her came to pass, then she would have to act soon to ensure things fell into place.


The ship was shaking violently as Corbel felt the world attempting to reject their trespass. His fellow brothers all stood locked into their restraints as the thunder hawk forced its way into the world of chaos. The metal groaned and seemed to warp as it passed through areas that held to no rules of reality.

Eventually, the ships broke through the cloud cover, and the chaotic land of DX538 started to appear through the portholes. Corbel didn't need to look as he could feel it coming up at him. As if all eyes had turned to the thunder hawks, and a massive hand was reaching up at them.

Releasing his restraints, he made his way up to the cockpit and pointed out the window. “There, land us there.”

His giant gauntlet finger pointing to the left and down, a formation of rocks rose into the sky like teeth, and a large river, red as blood, ran from it. "That feels like the most secured spot we can get."

"As you wish." The pilot said, banking his craft, and the other two followed suites. The trio of craft circling to verify that there were no hostiles nearby before coming in for a landing. The dust billowed up, and before long, the wolves were coming out to quickly take up position around the craft.

Corbel and the Sargent made their way out. Taking care to look over the deployment of the Marines as well as the world around them. Many of the wolves had never been on such lands before.

“This land seems hospitable.” The Sargent commented as he felt his booted feet sank a few inches into the red sands. A gurgling pop came from the nearby viscus river, making him shake his head and look at the cliffs surrounding the group. "The winds are picking up." He added, making Corbel nod.

"That they are." Corbel muttered, putting his staff to the ground and looking to the skies. The winds were starting to whip the sands up, slowly blotting out the sky. "Sargent, send out the grey hands to look over our avenues of egress."

Things started to happen quickly once the Sargent began to send the wolves out. The winds were picking up to the point where small rocks were beginning to lift and become bullets. Sarks started to flash off the thunder hawks and armor alike.

"Seer!" The pilot made his way from the ship keeping one gauntlet up to protect his face as he had yet to put his helm on.

“Yes brother?” Turning to face the pilot, Corbel put himself between the oncoming wind and the approaching wolf.

"We will not be able to take off in this cursed weather!" He shouted over the wind. "We must shut the engines down and get the covers on the intakes, or we will not be taking off from this cursed land!"

The wind was kicking up the sand so severely that you could see it being sucked into the intake of the thunder hawks. If a large rock were to get sucked in, or the sand were to clog the intake. It would mean a possible doom of the party.

"Do it, brother, shut down the engines and get the covers on; I need the pilots and crew chiefs to be ready to fire them back up if we need to get off this planet." The pilot gave a curt nod and started his way back to the ship.

Turning to his own vox, Corbel radioed out to the Sargent. "Brother, we have to shut the thunder hawks down till this storm passes.”

"Understood, Lord, A team has found a cave entrance. We are currently checking it out."

A feeling of dread filled Corbel as he looked to the sky then out to the planes of this damned planet. He could see red lightning sparking off in the distance, making its way towards the team.

“I feel like we are being herded like cattle.” He spoke into the com, “There is a lightning storm coming this way.” Corbel could actually see the temporal distortions in this land due to the sand and lightning. Sand either slowing down, becoming thicker or lightning streaking down only to come to a slow crawl in some areas. In other sites, it moved so fast that it seemed like it went invisible.

"That girl has been in this for how long?" The Sargent replied, making Corbel think on that. She was not a gen enhanced astratus with power armor. She was, however, a powerful psyker with beings looking out for her. “It would seem to be so Sargent.”

A sudden scream of pain as a flash forced his helms sensors to darken to avoid being blinded. "Shavaunt is down! Struck by lightning!” The report came in as Corbel watched the marine’s symbol in his hud go from white to yellow then to flashing amber.

“If one of these bolts hits a thunder hawk, will the occupants be endangered?” He called out to his pilots.

There was a slight pause as they had been in the process of covering the intakes up. "Yes seer, if a bolt hist the bird, it could spark off the munitions or rupture the fuel."

"Cover the intakes and then follow us then pilots, Sargent, we are coming your way to the cave. Put up its location on the nano." Soon after, a ping on the layout map came up, giving a directional marker. The group hurried up while two Marines took the wounded to the cave. Just in time, too, as the lightning bolts started to strike, all about forcing the Marines to take cover in the cave.

The cave was large and had a steep slope slanted down; at first, it just seemed like a regular rocky cave, but the more Corbel looked at it, the more he saw the fine crystalline formation flowing through the rock. Reaching up with a hand, the crystal started to glow, forming runic symbols that flowed throughout the cave.

Chaotic in nature, they hurt the eyes to look at for too long, so he pulled his hand away, allowing them to die down. Turning on his thermal sight, he could also see that the cave held no natural formation deeper in; hexagon-like stalagmites and odd-shaped formations shaped the cave as it went deeper.

"Why do I have a feeling this is no coincidences." His Sargent said after taking off his helm to look about the cave. "I am afraid you may be right, Brother." Corbel muttered, slowly taking off his helm as well. He took slow even breaths to test the air, his body aggressively filtering anything that may be harmful and allowing him to tell if something was in the air or not.

Looking out at the storm, he added. "We will wait here and see if this storm subsides. I would rather not play their game." The Sargent stood next to him as the others set up a temporary camp. The flashes of lightning lighting up the cave. Each time the cave lit up, the shadows would be different, as if they were moving and, if anything, watching.


Sharue slowly started to come about; her head was killing her as she could feel the throb of consciousness fill her body. She was bound. That was the first thing she noticed. Her paws and feet bound tightly as she stretched her body, trying to move her limbs. Her vision was of a black stone floor, cool to the touch, and black iron that worked its way across one of the stone walls.

Her hearing was slowly coming back, and she could hear gasping and incoherent speech. Slowly lifting her head, she saw the Albino that had confronted her struggling in midair, as if some invisible force held him up. His body was contorted in what looked to be pain; his eyes rolled back, froth foaming at his lips. That was when she saw he was smiling, though. The being's body was strained to the point that she could see almost every muscle and tendon in his body. In fact, there was an audible pop, and she watched in horror as one of his feet twisted and popped, pointing in a direction it was not supposed to.

“Yeeeeeesssssss." He gurgled out, "More…..MORE!” His body twisted again, and his smile went to a gaping maw that showed he had no perception of anything outside of what he was experiencing.

Instinctively, Sharue tried to reach out to the Daemon. She was startled when a different voice filled her head.

“Child, you are safe from its wrath for now.” Then, slowly, a serpentine form came from the shadows. Working its way around the Albino till she could get a clear look at it. The creature stood at least three meters tall; that was not accounting for the long snake-like body. Multiple arms adorned its form, and its bare breasts showed a more female-like form, though its hips sported a more masculine shape. What was a bit more unnerving was the almost perfect face is presented. It was human….ish, but its skin shone, and its eyes were breathtaking. The being's hair was both chaotic and flowed along one side of its face, the other side bald and sported a horn that swept back, curling with rings of black iron wrapped about it.

"Is that how you see me? Interesting." It said as it came closer, making Sharue come to life and start to scoot away. The momentary aw gone, and the flush of anger returning as she remembered what had happened. How the Albino had captured her and taken her to wherever this was. She tried to dive into her power and found it strangled from her. The vixen's eyes going left and right as she still had not understood what they had done to her.

"You must relax." The s rolling off the being's tongue like a serpent as it came close to her. Just its mere presence made her head foggy, and she felt like she wanted to relax, to give in only to have the idea of giving in fuel her anger, and she kicked out, baring her teeth.

The Daemon smiled, seeing Sharue’s reaction, and reached out to her, dragging her claws along her white fur and then allowing them to drag along her fur. It forced her to jerk and buck as the sensations that were filling her were overwhelming. She arched and rolled, fluttering her eyes, trying to grasp as it was even hard to breathe.

"What are you doing…." She gasped out, eyes wide.

"I am letting you feel something other than that rage you have boiling in you, something other than the pain and suffering you have felt. Relax and enjoy it; let it give you a moment of respite, child."

The Daemon pulled its hand away, allowing her to twitch and jerk on the floor. Its sole reason for doing so was to keep her mind so fogged over that she couldn't utilize her powers, at least for now. Its form moving to the Albino, who was drooling blood from his lips and nose at this point. "You did such a good job, my pet." She cooed, running her claws along his alabaster skin. The skin twitched and jerked where she touched him. "Enjoy your kiss."

The Daemon leaned in and did indeed kiss the Albino, and his body went rigid, so taunt was his form that all spasms had stopped, and his mouth grew wide after the Daemon pulled away, leaving every vein, tendon, and muscle to show in his neck.

Sharue was still twitching; she couldn't deny that there was a lure in the feeling. It was almost like when she was a drug addict, but it was because of that same experience that made her fight it. She remembered the withdraws on the Endless Night and the feeling of accomplishment of overcoming them. She also remembered when she was on the drugs that she would take even though she no longer got that euphoria rush. In fact, sometimes they had made her just feel sick and sleepy.

Nevertheless, the lure was there. To feel pleasure and a pause from this hateful life would be a wondrous thing. This would be her first time seeing a daemon in person; she could feel that it was no mutant. At first, when they had crashed on the surface, she had thought what was attacking them were daemons. Their bodies so mutated and the experience so frightful that it matched the definition of a daemon.

What she saw in front of her created a menacing presence even though it was beautiful in some ways. She had never seen her Master in its proper form. Not one she could confirm that was. Her nightmare on the Endless Night of the towering monster stood taller than anything she had ever seen. But when she got here, all he would appear to her as was a figure shrouded in darkness. To be honest, the shrouded figure brought more fear in her than the monster from her first dream.

The serpent could feel her resistance and smiled. “I can see why you were chosen. You have such a strong will.” It slithered up to her and leaned in but did not touch her this time. “Sleep and rest. The calmer you become with me, the more you will be rewarded. I will take the pain away; I will give you everything you need. I will be all you need." She said soothingly to her.

Shares vision blurred as she was struggling to stay conscious. The last thing she saw was the blurry view of the ceiling before her head rolled to the side.


The Daemon grinned, seeing her new pet slump to the side. It would be easy to kill her how she was, but she needed her alive if she was to not only free herself but take over this planet for the one that seeks sensation.

Cocking her head, she smiled, reaching out to hover her hand just over her new toy. She wanted to grab the fox and hold her, to play with her, but she knew that her touch would be more than the mortal's body could take. After all, it was unclear if Lugran would survive the kiss. It mattered little to her if he lived or died as he would simply be reborn as a new never born. Death was not the same to the never born as it was to mortals. Many failed to comprehend that the never born was part of a single consciousness; it's will made real. If it were to 'die,' it would simply be reborn as an extension of that will.

Moving out to the balcony, the Daemon looked out at the city of torment. The Brass City, or the city of the condemned. A prison for those who were rejected and purged because of a wide range of reasons. To be executed, and here she was, the warden of this planet. Sent here to keep the ruler of it under lock and key.

Turning her gaze to the mountain that surrounded it, she could make out the gaping maw and skull, its skeletal hand curled around a long-rotted sword. If everything went to plan, they would no longer have to worry about the lumbering beast.

Frowning and thinking back on what she had just thought about daemons, this one was… different. It had its own unique will, and it was old. Much older than she or her pet. In chaos, all things are possible, even the impossible. Some would go as far as to call it a god. The filthy elder had many of them in their time, after all. Oh, how she wished she could get ahold of their offensive kind. Her hands twitched, and her claws curled in at the thought of taking one of those pointed eared mortals.

In a way, though, it was the very Master of this world that allowed her to control the fox. Where most would be unable to control her abilities, as long as her Master had his talons in her, she, by proxy, could control the fox. She was, after all, the warden of this beast. It was very doubtful that the ruler of this world would let the fox out of its clutches.

Grinning, she loved the thought of the other Daemon struggling to balance the two. Let go of the fox and give her the chance to kill its warden, or keep ahold of the fox but give its warden control over her.

“I wonder if it’s still going according to plan.”

Freedom is what she wanted. Just as much as she was the beast’s warden, as long as it was under her care, she was a prisoner of this dull, unfulfilling world.

"I am going to have fun with your toy." She said, turning to look at the unconscious fox. "Lot of fun indeed."


In his meditative state, Corbel was standing with his eyes closed, his hand on his tomb, and staff facing out of the cave into the wind and sand. It had been blowing for some time, but he could feel it ebb and would be calming soon.

Opening his eyes, he looked out over the sands. It had been blowing so hard that he couldn't even see the Thunderhawk's and now a grim expression formed over his face. His grey eyes looking out over where his spacecraft had been only to see that they were not there anymore. "Brother Sargent, we may have an issue." Corbel simply said as it wasn't just that the crafts were missing. The entire area was different. A sea of lava stretched out below a cliff that now stood where they had landed.

"By Fenris, what has happened?" His Sargent asked. Confused at what he was seeing, Corbel could hear some of the other grey hands catching on that things were not right.

“It seems we are unwelcome guests in this world.” A tap of his staff sent some of the dirt tumbling down the cliff into the lava. It wasn’t as if the lava formed and the ships sank, no this was as if they had been moved to a completely different location.

“We should have left the pilots with the craft.” The Sargent muttered quietly to Corbel. The older wolf nodded slowly.

"Perhaps or perhaps the craft is no more, and we would have lost skilled men." Sighing, he looked back at the Marines. There were not panicking; most of them knew that this mission would be their last. If anything, many of them looked excited.

Corbel’s gaze went from the men following him to the dark cave behind them. “It seems we are left a path to follow.”

“You know lord.” The Sargent said, "I am thinking you have jinxed us with the whole 'who is tossing the bones' comment." The Sargent said with a smirk before putting on his helm.

Looking to the rocks and the odd runes, he hemmed, "Perhaps we have pulled unwanted attention our way. Though we still have our part to play. After all, we would be dead if they didn't want us here, I believe."

“I hate being toyed with.” The Sargent growled out through his helm.

"As do I, Brother Sargent, but for now, it seems that the game goes on. Have your men form up as we will move deeper in and see what we can find. Let us see what our unwelcoming hosts have in store for us, shall we?"

“As you wish.” The Sargent calling everyone to motion as they soon started to move out deeper into the cavern. Corbel took a few steps into the cave only to look back as if feeling eyes on him. His own eyes narrowing seeing the world outside blur and change and move as if the cave was constantly changing and shifting place in reality. Maybe it was not a new place but a new time that they had been moved to.

Thinking on this for a short bit, he turned and followed his fellow brothers into the cave. Behind him, the shadows shifted and moved, a face flickering on the walls and in the crystals, a toothy and leering grin forming as it watched the Wolves descend into darkness.


End Chapter 6 The city of Brass and Iron.

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