The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40,000

"Holy Christ, that was fucking beautiful."

"Yeah, no fucking doubt about it."

Tangmo, Erik and the main characters that were not in active combat stood on the earthen rampart of the outer most defenses, directly west of the monastery complex. The absolute night that would last for fifty five jolly days has begun, the sky was black, the last sliver of light slowly yielding to the encroaching ebon, the darkness momentarily banished by the graveyard of burning tanks three kilometer in front of them. The Immortal Spirit high command cheered loudly while the new comers, that being the 101st Cadian, the 11th Antari and the 774th Vostroyan, all gaped slack jawed at the column of tanks rolling back toward their line, triumphant after a hard fought battle, the triple barreled King Ghidorah at the head.

"I don't know much about tank battles dude, but that look pretty decisive," Erik commented, grinning ear to ear.

"The closest comparison I can think of is the battle of 73 Easting, during the First Gulf War," Tangmo passed his binocular to Evangeline. "That was where the United State Armored Division fucking annihilated a numerically superior Iraqi Republican Guards tanks. Admittedly, we've taken a bigger beating than the Americans, but this shit was still pretty one sided. Hey Hildebrandt, how many tanks did we lost?"

"Thirty tanks incapacitated, Herr commissar," the Krieg colonel tapped his data-pad quickly. "No loss of lives and the damaged vehicles are being hauled back to the motor pool as we speak. They are expected to return to active duty once the repair is done, estimate completion is two days."

"Unbelievable," general Juna Keene of the Antari said breathlessly as Henry led the victorious tanks into the monastery, the infantries cheering raucously. "I've never seen an armored battalion destroy so quickly and thoroughly."

"Those tanks," Bendikt, the 101st Cadian general, pointed his newly augmented finger at the war machines rumbling behind the six Macharius that served as the King Ghidorah's honor guards, sprinkled at interval by Aeldari hover tanks. "They don't look like any Leman Russes that I've ever seen."

"Oh yeah, these are not the Leman Russes you guys know and love," one such tank drove passed them, the gunner saluting and Tangmo almost shed tears at how beautiful it was. "We deem the old design to be obsolete and incompatible with the fighting style of the Immortal Spirit, and have therefore created a new line of battle tanks, born and bred by our own engineers and science corps. No ladies and gentlemen, the Leman Russ has since been reborn into what you see now: The King Russ."

The new comers nodded appreciatively and Tangmo took this moment to bask in the newly minted King Russes. Gone was the First World War British Mark V and Char B1 looks, in its place was something Tangmo would described as a cross between the legendary Wehrmacht King Tiger and the M1 Abram, retaining the iconic shape, but bigger, longer and reinforced with sloped space age composite armor. The overhaul wasn't done only on the exterior either, for the interior has also been upgraded with autoloader, state of the art computer targeting software, and air conditioning. Up until an hour ago, the Eight had no idea whether the new, overengineered tanks would do well in combat, but after seeing how they completely wrecked the Steelwall Brigade, it was more than obvious that the King Russes were totally superior to the Leman Russes. Vindication never tasted so fucking sweet.

"Do you think they'll make another push?" Krillen handed the binocular back to Tangmo, who slid it into his belt.

"I doubt Janet would be that stupid," Tangmo glanced up at the sky. "She doesn't need too any way, the night is upon us, they'll only need to chip away at our defenses now."

"That's cheerful," Evangeline snorted and the battlegroup laughed lowly, the newcomers were grim and silent though. "How's our counterattack plan coming?"

"We got it finalized, but we'll wait for them to attack us first before we – achoo!" Tangmo sneezed loudly, everybody baulking away from him. "Sorry."

"Still not used to the cold?" Leilatha asked from beside him, her tone a cross between chastisement and endearment.

"Nope," Tangmo sniffed and another sneeze, this one girlish and cute, echoed from somewhere down the line. Turning, he saw Lita, hands covering mouth, and Dalthorn descending the battlement and heading back to the monastery. Good idea. "Right ladies and gents, show's over, I think its best we get back to work, still a lot of other shits to do besides cheering on the tanks."

The main characters nodded and went their separate ways, some staying behind to check on the men and the defenses, while others headed back inside. Tangmo, Leilatha and Erik were with the latter group, joining Lita and Dalthorn.

"You doing okay?" Tangmo asked Lita.

"No - achoo!" Lita's criminally kawaii sneeze answered him. "It's cold."

"I can tell," Tangmo puffed out white mist as he looked Lita up and down. "Mexico and Texas are higher up on the equator than Thailand. Shouldn't you be more tolerant to the cold?"

"Yeah, but we never have anything this bad," Lita responded, teeth chattering as Dalthorn threw his arm across the Warseer's shoulder, drawing her into a warm embrace. Tangmo almost laughed at the heroic, shining knight look the eldar captain shot him. "Besides, I was never good with chilly weather."

"True that," Tangmo nodded then turned to Leilatha. "Aren't you gonna hug me too?"

"You look fine enough," Leilatha flashed him a devilish smirk.

"Bruh, that's cold," Tangmo chuckled, Leilatha joining in softly and holy crap she was beautiful when she laughed. He must have been staring because Leilatha quickly coughed and looked the other way, a very clear hint of pink rising up her cheeks.

"I don't know what the two of you are complaining about," Erik announced merrily. "The weather's great! If a little dark though."

"Shut up," Tangmo and Lita snapped at the same time.

"Southerners," Erik rolled his eyes good-naturedly but solemnity quickly returned. "But seriously, and this coming from a Swede, this place is abnormally cold. I mean, winter in Stockholm is warmer than this."

"Well, yeah, the sun's pretty much gone," Lita said and snuggled deeper into Dalthorn's chest.

"…Can I be super honest with you for a moment?" Erik ventured hesitantly, drawing an alarmed look from Lita. "I'm getting a bad vibe from all of this. Like, a really bad vibe, on a spiritual level."

"Say what now?" Lita suddenly got paler.

"I don't wanna scare you, but things are about to get supernatural," Erik went on timidly, well aware of how distressed Lita was becoming, "supernatural in the most undesirable way."

"Thanks a lot Erik, now I'm spooked!" Lita blurted loudly and Tangmo couldn't help but empathized, she really doesn't like anything that veered toward ghosts and phantasms. One of the thing the Eight like to do early on in their career was forced Lita to watch scary movies, always having a good laugh when the Latina screamed after every jump scare. Lita would ended up a crying wreck afterward though, and they would all feel very bad, spending the next few days making it up to her. They don't do that anymore, well, only on special occasions.

"I kinda thought you would want a heads up, I got a super sixth sense about these things, you know?" Erik was absolutely right, the Swede always knew when scary shits was about to happen.

"That doesn't make me feel any better!" Lita cried and hugged Dalthorn tighter.

"Are you sure?" Tangmo asked Erik.

"I am," Erik nodded. "I'm never wrong about this dude."

"Yeah, I thought as much," Tangmo drew the awesome commissar coat tighter around him and Leilatha sidled closer, he really appreciated the gesture. "But I guess we're safe here, there's a couple of thousands Sororitas stationed all over the monastery and the place is sanctified up the ass. It should probably be enough to keep all the evil shits out."

"The Omen, 1976, the priest got impale inside church's ground," Erik said.

"He wasn't inside the church though," Tangmo countered.

"End of Days, 1999, Satan literally shows up inside a church and possessed Arnold before he impale himself and banish the Prince of Darkness back to hell," Erik went on.

"That movie fucking suck," Tangmo made a face, because damn, that wasn't one of Arnold's best moments.

"That's irrelevant to the fact that nine times out of ten evil spirits have no problem getting into, quote unquote, holy places," Erik stated with utter surety then snapped his fingers. "Nang Nak, 1999, the ghost Nak followed her husband into…"

"A Buddhist temple then hang upside down above the sanctified circle the monks have warded around her husband, taunting the holy men and trying to convince her lover to come back to her," Tangmo finished the sentence. "Ugh, shit, I guess you're right."

"Damn right I am," Erik grinned smugly. "That was a great movie by the way, thanks for recommending it."

"One of the very few good Thai movies in existence," Tangmo glanced around now that they've entered the monastery proper. Every inch was bathed in warm bright neon. Barely a blotch of shadow could be seen. Gigantic spotlights in the hundreds dotted the battlement, trained outward like the guns, ready to pierce the darkness and all that hides within it. The sweet smell of incenses hung heavy in the air, soothing and fragrant, drifting from thuribles, burning sticks and stag skulls as the Sororitas of every order made their rounds across the complex, making sure that not a single spot was left untouched by the Emperor's blessing. Hopefully that will be enough. "Out of curiosity, and since we're on the topic of horror movies, did you find any wells?"

"A lot, actually," Erik nodded. "Straight out of fucking Ringu, I tell you want. The shape, the size and the dimension was identical."

"Will the two of you shut up already?!" Lita blurted, the glare she shot Tangmo and Erik had a hint of desperation to it. "You can't be serious, right?!"

"Erik's hunch is never wrong dude," Tangmo shrugged.

"Perhaps we can take a look at the defenses ourselves?" Dalthorn offered placatingly to Lita, all the while shooting Tangmo and Erik an adorably mean look. "Then you will see that everything is okay."

"Thanks Dalthorn, but I rather we check in with the canonesses, they're the ones in charge of warding the place," Lita told him.

"You do that. In the mean time I'll see to our Warlocks and Farseers on this matter," Dalthorn smiled reassuringly at Lita.

"Are you sure?" Lita asked, her worries plain. "It could be dangerous out there."

"Specters can't hurt me, I'll be fine," Dalthorn held Lita's hand tight, giving it a good squeeze.

"Be careful," Lita let go of Dalthorn then steal a quick kiss on his cheek, the eldar man blushing furiously.

"O-Okay," Dalthorn muttered, half dazed, and stumbled off in the opposite direction, his expression can only be described as whimsy.

"The three of you go on ahead," Leilatha looked at her wristwatch then strode into a cluster of tents. "I promised to meet Evangeline, Emily and Raine for a drink."

"A little ladies' night huh?" Tangmo quirked his brow mischievously, drawing a derisive, but playful snort from Leilatha. "How's Raine doing?"

"She's taking the news of her punishment really well, all things considered," Leilatha said. "That will surely be the main topic of conversation tonight."

"Keep me posted dude, have fun," Tangmo and Leilatha waved their goodbyes then nudged his head for Lita and Erik to follow. "Come on, let's go see how the Sororitas are doing."

"I hope everything is okay on that end," Lita squeezed herself in between Tangmo and Erik, heads darting this way and that, doing her best to keep her cool, "things actually look pretty good around here though"

"It always calm before everything goes to hell – oww!" Erik squawked when Tangmo smacked his unhelpful ass upside the head.

"What the hell are you even worried about, you have magic more powerful than anything across the known multiverse, just blast those fuckers straight back to hell," Tangmo told Lita.

"I just don't like ghosts and spirits and stuff, alright?! I thought Spirited Away was a horror movie, for Christ's sake!" Lita made an adorably pouty face, a lethal mixture that conveyed the perfect blend of outrage and vulnerability, sweet and scared at the same time, the cuteness almost giving Tangmo a heart attack.

"Alright, just stay close, we'll keep each other safe, like always," Tangmo smiled at Lita, and she reciprocated with a heartfelt one of her own, just like how it was when they had dated.

"Thank you," Lita said.

"Famous last words."

This time Tangmo and Lita smacked Erik in the head at the same time.

Verity cut the stiches, washed the closed but bloody laceration with a steaming towel, applied cool antiseptic gel, and finally wrapped a fresh bandage around the wound, giving it a good firm tug. The tank gunner nodded reverently in thanks as Verity helped him to his feet, the man wobbled a few steps before limping toward the tent's exit where his crews, equally banged up, were waiting for him. Smiling after a job well done, Verity walked over to the sink and began rinsing blood and gore from her hands and arms when Alnelle joined her.

"How did things go?" Verity asked as she applied the liquid soap, the strong waft of alcohol making her nose twitched.

"Things went very well, I'm not as squeamish as I was before and my hands are steadier," Alnelle said. "The humans are not sneering or cowering away anymore, they were actually glad to see me. A lot of them smiled and thanked me afterward too!"

"You'll be more popular than me in no time!" Verity and Alnelle giggled as they dried their hands.

"It's not a competition," Alnelle stuck her tongue out in a friendly raspberry. "I am glad the casualties were so low though, is it true that nobody died during the engagement?"

"That's absolutely correct," Verity nodded happily. "Those that we tended are the ones injured during the fight, and there wasn't many to begin with. I was skeptical about the new tanks and tactics, but after today, I stand corrected."

"General Henry must be beside himself," Alnelle glanced around the tent, the only people presence were the regimental medics, eldar combat healers and hospitallers, cleaning up bloody cots and putting away medical instruments. "I believe our shift is done?"

"It would appear so, but I rather be sure," Verity and Alnelle walked up to senior medic Ryvin, who was busy jotting down records onto his data-pad, "Ryvin?"

"Uh? Oh, hospitaller Verity, medic Alnelle, what can I do for you?" Ryvin wrote down a few more lines before flipping his data-pad closed and shifted his attention to the pair.

"Is there anything more we can do?" Verity asked.

"I don't think so, all the patients have been treated," Ryvin glanced left and right, a look of astonishment plastered upon his face. "By the Throne, I never think I've seen an engagement ended so amicably."

"May we be excused then?" Verity went on politely.

"Yes Verity, you and Alnelle can take the night off," Ryvin looked up at the ceiling, brow quirked. "Or is it day? I honestly don't know anymore."

"It's six thirty in the evening," Verity turned around with Alnelle, waving their goodbye at Ryvin. "Have a pleasant evening."

"Stay safe," Ryvin flipped his data-pad opened again, a soft smile tugging his lips as he put in a call to someone, obviously colonel Xiphos. Stepping out of the tent, Verity gasped at how cold it had become, the hospitaller habit providing scant protection. With the sun swallowed by the eclipse, the temperature had also dropped exponentially, to the point where the Valhallan and the Frost Bringers were unabashedly jolly. Verity was pulled out of her revive when Alnelle tugged urgently on her sleeve. Following the Aeldari medic's pointing finger, Verity almost missed a step when she found the bespectacled Himinn talking to Zuhra, the Tallarn medic. After telling commissar Tangmo about the altercation back on the Immortal Spirit, Korri, Elpida and Zuhra were given a stern talking to and put on sewage duty for two months, which comprised the entirety of their voyage from the glass moon station to Yomi. Verity thought the so-called Angel of Tallarn was looking for retribution, but as she and Alnelle drew nearer, it was clear that there was nothing but remorse on Zuhra's visage.

"Himinn? Is everything alright?" Alnelle spoke up as they approached the two.

"Hi guys," Himinn smiled while Zuhra trained her eyes downward, fidgeting guiltily. It took a little gentle coaxing from Himinn for Zuhra to meet Verity and Alnelle's gaze. "It's okay Zuhra, they're not mad at you. Go on, tell them what you have told me."

"Verity, Alnelle," Zuhra took a deep breath then bowed lowly at the two, her voice cracking with emotion. "I'm so sorry for threatening and bullying the three of you back on the Immortal Spirit. It was thoughtless and petty, and over a stupid cake of all things, I shouldn't have allowed it to go that far."

"What you did was indeed very unkind and reflects badly upon the Militarum," Verity tried to channel the sternness that came so naturally with Miriya, but knew immediately that she wasn't one for intimidation, so instead she softened her visage. "But we all make mistake, and only from that can we grow into a better person. I forgive you Zuhra."

"Oh, thank you!" Zuhra bolted up right, a radiant smile banishing the heavy gloom from before, eyes glittering with unshed tears. "You truly are merciful, I told Korri and Elpida so, but they wouldn't believe me."

"They're not apologizing?" Himinn asked, staring steadily at the repentant Zuhra.

"The two are very concern about the reception they might receive," Zuhra explained. "They are very stubborn, like all women of the Militarum, and although they recognize that what they did was extremely reprehensible, they are not good at making peace."

"We'll be waiting for them with open arms when they are ready to apologize," Verity waved for Zuhra to join them. "We're going to go grab a bite, care to join us?"

"Can I?" Zuhra asked shyly, unsure if she was welcomed.

"Of course Zuhra," Alnelle held out her hand and the Tallarn medic took it gingerly, a look of pure gratitude on her face. "Come along now…where is the mess hall again?"

"It's over in the eastern sector of the monastery, but I know a shortcut," Zuhra started off toward a row of tents, Alnelle's hand still clasped in her own. "That is, if you would allow me to show the way, it's the least I can do."

"Lead the way," Verity strode after the smiling Alnelle and Zuhra, a guarded Himinn following reluctantly at her heels, the Frost Bringer's wariness dampening the elated atmosphere somewhat, "What's wrong Himinn?"

"Are you sure about this?" Himinn lowered her voice when the cobblestone path took the four of them further away from the flapping tents and into an alleyway of dilapidated brick buildings, the worn moldy plasters peeling off the walls like lizard shedding its skin. The looming houses appeared to be abandoned and the sudden sense of claustrophobia was making the temperature drop a few degrees more.

"What do you mean?" Verity asked when they rounded another corner, noticing with alarm how the camp's ambience was getting more muted the further they went.

"When mother isn't looking, Sigrid and Astrid always trick me into going somewhere secluded so they can play a prank on me," Himinn continued. "This reminds me of one such occasion."

"Zuhra?" Verity spoke up as they entered a four way junction, trepidation rising when the Tallarn medic didn't respond immediately. Alnelle glanced back at Verity, fear rising in her eyes now that she realized something was wrong. "Zuhra dear, are we close yet? I think we're actually pretty far away from the camp."

Zuhra's stepped slowed, coming to a complete stop once she reached the middle of the crossroad. Alnelle tried to shake herself loose but Zuhra's grip was firm, and when the Tallarn spoke all traces of her earlier sheepishness was gone, replaced by a razor wickedness that made Verity's skin crawled, "you know, I almost feel bad for tricking you three. But by the Throne, you really deserve it for being this gullible."

"Holy shit, it actually worked?!" A figure emerged from a shadowy alcove on Zuhra's right, chuckling insidiously. It was Elpida, wielding a big wrench which she twirled easily around her fingers. "They actually believe the sob story you gave them?!"

"What can I say? I'm the best actor in the regiment," Zuhra grinned as Elpida joined her. Alnelle was panicking now and was trying her damnedest to break free from the Tallarn.

"Let go of me this instant – ahhh!" Alnelle shrieked when Zuhra, in one smooth motion, wrenched the eldar backward, the Tallarn's free arm wrapping tight around the taller woman's slim waist as she twisted the Aeldari's wrist into a hammerlock. "Ouch! You're hurting me! Stop it! Ahhh! Why are you so damn strong?!"

"I grew up on Tallarn, not some garden on a Craftworld" Zuhra applied more pressure to the submission hold, grinning when Alnelle cried out in pain. "A girl needs to be strong to survive the desert and its unsavory inhabitants."

"Let her go!" Himinn raised her hands, ice and wind coalescing around her opened palms. In response, Zuhra ducked behind Alnelle while Elpida jabbed the heavy wrench at the eldar's temple.

"Now, now snowball, don't do anything stupid," Elpida warned, and Himinn snarled like a wolf.

"Himinn! Verity! Run! Go get help! Get commissar Tangmo!" Alnelle yelled, her legs thrashing feebly against Zuhra's unbreakable hold.

"I'll hold them back, go!" Himinn said quickly and after a moment of hesitation, recognizing the situation to be hopeless without any assistance, Verity spun around and dashed back the way they came. Only to find a sweetly smiling Korri, sniper rifle held easily in her hands, blocking her path. Verity skidded to a stop, almost colliding into the Cadian.

"Leaving so soon Verity?" The grin Korri flashed her could only be described as evil. "But we've gone to so much trouble getting all of you here!"

"Please Korri, we don't want any trouble," Verity pleaded as she slowly edged backward, behind her Himinn's head snapped between the new threat and Alnelle, held hostage by Zuhra and Elpida, not sure which target to pick. She thought about making a run for it, but since she and her friends were not clad in any armor, powered or otherwise, Verity concluded that such action would only invite greater calamity and decided to hold her ground.

"Oh, we don't want any trouble either," Korri lips thinned suddenly, her visage hardening. "That is, until you had to go and run your stupid mouth off to commissar Tangmo. It's a miracle the three of us didn't get our asses flayed by the Thai kick."

"You deserve nothing less after robbing us at knife point," Himinn shot back, a wolfish grin lifting up her lips. Her resemblance to elskerinne Eldul was uncanny. "How was swimming in shit like? Hmm? Does the smell ever come off?"

"I'm sure Astrid can provide a more graphic detail," Korri giggled maliciously, her eyes roaming Verity's habit. "Then again, you're about to get a firsthand experience in that regard, so I'm sure you'll get your answer."

"What?" Himinn demanded.

"You got us toiling through shit filled septic tanks for two months, and we're going to return the favor," Korri went on coldly and gestured with the barrel of her gun down one of the corridor. "The latrine pits are not far from here. So how about the three of you be obedient little girls and not make a fuss? I would hate for things to get violent."

"You're insane if you think we'll do anything of the sort!" Verity raised her voice indignantly. She was an Adepta Sororitas of the Hospitaller Order, and she will not be bullied by a mere slip of a girl! Verity was sure she was Korri senior by a few years at least.

"Zuhra?" At Korri utterance a loud, breathless oof and a thud of body hitting the ground sounded behind Verity. Spinning around, Verity found Alnelle dashing for a grinning Himinn, while Elpida went to help the downed Zuhra back on her feet. That was definitely not what Verity had expected to see. "Zuhra! What the fuck, you had one fucking job!"

"The psyker made my arms all icy!" Zuhra roared as she, with Elpida's help, slapped thick sheen of ice from her sleeves, the Tallarn glaring dagger at the Storm Singer.

"Thank you!" Alnelle slipped behind the smirking Himinn, the eldar trying to make herself small despite being a few inches taller than the psyker.

"Don't mention it," Himinn stiffened when Zuhra and Elpida stalked toward them, the engineer smacking the big wrench on her palm menacingly while a combat knife flashed in the medic's white knuckled grip.

"You three just made the biggest mistake of your lives," Korri snarled and held up her rifle as she would a bo staff, her intention clear. "I hope you paid attention to sister Miriya's lesson Verity, because the time has come for you to use it."

"Stay back!" Verity cried, her back pressed against Alnelle and Himinn's own, holding up a pugilist guard that she knew was sloppy and shaking. "I'm warning you!"

"Are you serious?" Korri sniggered lowly as she closed the distant.

"I know how to defend myself!" Verity cursed the quivers in her voice.

"Tell you want, I'm going to let you have the first hit, here," Korri leaned forward mockingly, presenting her cheek to the affronted Verity. "Go on, I'm waiting."

"Who is that?" Alnelle spoke up suddenly, her timbre cold and fearful, much more so than when Zuhra had her in the hammerlock.

"Now that's just sad," Zuhra shook her head in pity. "Couldn't come up with anything better than that? How stupid do you think we are?"

"She's not joking, there is someone behind the two of you," a very clear note of fright seeped into Himinn's voice. "Look!"

Zuhra rolled her eyes but Elpida glanced back and quickly snatched the Tallarn's arm, dragging her toward Alnelle and Himinn, "back up, back up!"

The sudden shift in temperament made Verity turned around, and indeed there was someone approaching them. No, more like shamble, jittery and awkward, the movement reminding her of a limping injured beast. It was a woman, clad in a thick black kimono with a white obi sash, her pale face veiled by glossy black hair, the eyes peeking through the wavering strands looked…demented.

"This is Militarum business citizen," Verity flinched when Korri came to stand beside her, their altercation for the moment forgotten. "Return to your home."

The woman was unfazed by Korri's command and continued her hobbling approach. Closer now, Verity was able to see that the strange woman was wearing a white surgical mask, hiding everything below the eyes.

"I said stop!" Korri trained her sniper rifle forward, the woman only complying when she was five paces away from them, well within striking distant Verity noticed. "I'm not going to warn you again! Return to your home, or tent, this doesn't concern you!"

The woman titled her head, deep black eyes sweeping with predatory slowness, that night's chill was piercing now. And were the lights dimming? Then the woman spoke, her timbre the sharp rasping of unsheathing sword.

"Am I beautiful?"

The six of them traded look of purest incomprehension, blindsided by the strange question.

"Am I beautiful?" The woman asked again, more forcefully this time.

"You got to be fucking kidding me," Elpida growled and tightened her grip on the wrench as she stomped threateningly up to the woman. "Listen lady, you have about three seconds before I – hey!"

"Get back you idiot!" Himinn wrenched the startled Elpida back, her eyes never leaving the woman. "Something's wrong. More specifically, something's wrong with her."

"Am. I. Beautiful?" The woman chewed each word off harshly.

"Yes! Yes good woman, you are very beautiful," Verity interjected swiftly, seeing how the woman was clearly becoming more hostile, the hospitaller nodding quickly at her friends and would be bullies. "She's beautiful, right guys?"

"She is indeed," Alnelle added heartily.

"Yeah, what she said," Korri deadpanned, her rifle still honed on the woman, who appeared somewhat placated by the compliment she had been demanding for. Then she started laughing, lowly at first before rising to a keening bellow, a cruel, mirthless thing, filled with malice and mockery. They stared at the cackling woman, horrified yet unable to look away from the unfolding pandemonium, made more manic by the now stuttering lights. The woman then reached one hand up to her face, while the other went into the fold of her kimono. Then, with a savage wrench, she pulled the mask off, and they all screamed at was revealed.

"Even now?!"

Gathering herself, Verity slowed her breathing until she was no longer hyperventilating, her arms wrapped tight around Alnelle, although she couldn't quite remember when they had latched on to each other. The woman, now wielding a sickle and walking leisurely toward them, was cruelly mutilated, with both corners of her mouth slit ears to ears, the hellish carving so deep and severe that Verity can see rows of sharp teeth behind the parted flesh. Her mandible appeared to be hanging from the temporomandibular joints alone. But what sympathy she might have conjured for the woman was swiftly swept away by the clear antagonistic intent.

"Well?! Am I still beautiful?!" The woman cackled and raised the sickle above her head.

"You're one ugly bitch," Korri snarled and pulled the trigger, the powerful red lasbolt struck the slit mouthed woman square in the chest, the blast send her flying back a couple of feet. She landed roughly on the cobblestone and went still, smoke rising from her torso.

"What the fuck was that?!" Himinn asked loudly, hands still raised at the corpse.

"I don't know," Korri lowered her rifle. "But we need to…"

"That's not very polite!" The slit mouth woman suddenly rose up, vertical and ramrod straight as she guffawed at the group, jaw bouncing up and down, tongue lolling wetly across her chin. Korri shot her six more times, and three more after she lay unmoving on the ground.

"I-Is she dead?" Alnelle stammered, still clinging tight to Verity.

"You want to check? Be my fucking guest," Elpida turned around with a worried expression, looking at the flabbergasted Korri. "We should go to the Sororitas and…"

"DIE!"

Elpida went down screaming, tackled hard to the ground by the howling slit mouthed woman, her sickle plummeting in quick blurry strokes, tearing into the engineer's leather jacket. A lance of jagged ice gored into the demented woman's stomach, lifting her off Elpida and launching her at a building, where she was impaled to the brick façade. Blood poured from her wound and mouth but the slit mouthed woman didn't die, if anything she appeared even more angry as she hacked savagely at the ice pinning her.

"By the Throne, Elpida!" Zuhra cried and knelt down beside the engineer, Verity and Alnelle joining her, pulling the shredded jacket off and looking for wounds as Korri and Himinn sent more lasbolts and ice bolts at the daemon woman. "Where does it hurt, talk to me!"

"I'm fine, I'm not hurt – hey!" Elpida tried to get up but Verity, with the help of Alnelle, pushed her back down and swiftly checked for any laceration. The engineer had the Emperor's luck it would seem, for she was unscathed by the attack, her jacket wasn't as fortunate though. "I said I'm fine!"

"I need to be sure," Verity countered sternly and made one last inspection before helping Elpida back to her feet. "Now I'm sure."

"Umm…thanks?" Elpida offered, not quite sure how to address the hospitaller, considering that they were on the verge of killing each other only a minute ago. She was about to say more when Korri and Himinn, panic stark on their paling visage, staggered to their side.

"We got to get the fuck out of here!" Korri took Elpida by the arm while Himinn took Verity's. "Come on!"

"How is that thing not dead?!" Zuhra pointed at the slit mouthed woman, who at this very moment was pushing herself off the four feet long spear of ice, her laughter an unceasing maddened cacophony, unbothered by the smaller shards of icicle and scorch marks now adorning her body.

"Fuck if I know!" Himinn spat, spun around, and squealed. "Shit!"

Following Himinn's gaze, Verity and the rest of the group also screamed when more shambling figures appeared down the road, blocking their escape. All of them had the same crippled gaits, wore surgeon masks and wielded knives, scalpels, shears and sickles. Glancing around, Verity found more daemonic women coming down every lane of the four way junction, with their group trapped in the middle.

"Aww, they don't look too terribly happy, right my friends?" The first slit mouth woman, now back on her feet, crooned sweetly, eliciting a ripple of laughter from her companions. She raised the sickle to her mouth and lapped it with her tongue, the woman's innards visible through the hole in her stomach, bobbing and swaying as another bout of laughter took her, "how about we put a smile on their faces?!"

"Get down!" Himinn roared and sent a powerful torrent of blizzard down one of the lane, the gale scattering the women, knocking them flat to the ground or splattering them against the buildings. It was a magnificent display of power, one that left Himinn panting and down on her knees, taking one heavy breath after another as she lethargically tried to rise.

"I got you," Alnelle reached down and, to her surprise, with a helping hand from Elpida, the two propped Himinn up and carried the psyker toward the now cleared corridor at a sprint, followed by Zuhra, Verity, with Korri bringing up the rear, the Cadian spraying the pursuing women with bursts of lasbolts. The strobe of light did not slow them down.

"Which way are we going?!" Korri yelled when she caught up to Verity, behind them the howling women, led by their slit mouthed leader, were catching up fast.

"Anywhere is better than here!" Was Verity only response as she ran for her life.

"It is very rowdy in here," Leilatha raised her voice above the din of cheering men and women.

"One of the Antari's many unique traits," Raine took a sip from her cup of tea, Emily was playing mother, as she watched the fight raging at the center of the mess hall, an Antari tradition where, before the start of every new battle, the regiment indulged in a fist fight to increase morale and strengthen the bond between the soldiery, even outsiders were invited to participate. And right now, corporal Crys was making short work of a Grey Watch guardsman.

"They are a very rumbustious sort," Evangeline commented as the crowd erupted in a thunderous roar after Crys delivered a haymaker and knocked the kilt wearing man out. The Antari corporal helped her opponent up before returning to her table of cheering Antari, while the spectators settled down as they went back to their more subdued conversation. Raine caught sight of Andren sitting with his Duskhound, he raised his cup in greeting and she reciprocated the gesture.

"He is more than free to join us," Emily said. "He is colonel after all. His rank is more than appropriate."

"It is better this way," Raine smiled softly at the Praetorian major. "Unlike inquisitor Laura and exarch Yuki, I want to keep my more intimate moment away from public's eyes."

"A good idea," Evangeline scoffed lightheartedly then glance at the bloody makeshift ring, now specked with blood and sweat, her visage grim. "Are we witnessing a prelude of what is to come once we return to the Immortal Spirit?"

"Perhaps," Raine finished her tea slowly, eyes honed on the fighting pit, imagining herself and the blonde inquisitor within the confines.

"I can talk to Tangmo and have him reverse the punishment," Leilatha offered. "A couple of minutes of stern talking to and I'm sure he'll change his mind."

"Thank you Leilatha, but that is the last thing I want right now," Raine said determinedly, "this need to happen. Besides, I was never suave with political maneuvering anyway. I've always opted for a more direct approach in solving personal dispute."

"How charming," Leilatha chuckled softly.

"But I do need a favor from Tangmo," Raine went on, piquing the interest of Evangeline and Emily. "If you wouldn't mind, that is."

"You want him to teach you Muay Thai and Muay Boran," Leilatha caught on easily.

"I do," Raine nodded. After seeing how the young commissar fought barehanded, every limb striking with the power of a beast and the fury of a storm, she wanted to learn such skills. "I've already enlist the help of general Henry, I wish to be as physically prepare as I can."

"Tangmo will be happy to help," Leilatha grinned. "Good to see you taking this seriously, the honor of the commissariat demands it."

"I must warn you that inquisitor Amberley had enlisted the help of Laura and Yuki," Evangeline added, her tone heavy.

"Is that so?" Raine quirked a brow, this was a development she hasn't heard before. Then again, with everything else going on, she could be forgiven for missing out on a few gossips.

"They are not to be taken lightly," Emily said promptly, a hint of worry in her voice. "I've seen Laura and Yuki fought in close quarter combat. The inquisitor's fighting style is unorthodox and mix, concentrating on ways to get the opponents flat on their back before pummeling them to a bloody mess, while the exarch is an expert on submission holds and joints manipulation, the eldar enjoys torturing her opponent. I think Amberley is looking to humiliate you."

"She is welcome to try," Raine held out her cup and Emily poured her another steamy serving as Crys strode cockily back inside the ring, the crowd cheering as the big Antari blew them kisses.

"Alright you buncha grox dropping, which one of you want a go at me next?!" Crys announced and Raine almost laughed when no one took up the challenge. "Seriously?! Nobody want a piece of sweet little me?!"

"I want a piece."

Instead of hearty cheers, adamantine silence descended on the mess hall as the Valhallan, led by general Sulla herself, strode up to the ring, all grins and smiles, unfazed by the Antari's glare as they took over an empty table. And striding proudly passed the rope, coming to stand before the huffing Crys, her frame petite compared to the Antari, was corporal Mari Margot, the most savage of all the Valhallan and a formidable hand to hand combatant.

"You?" Crys scoffed. "Sorry girlie, I don't fight children. Get lost."

"Sure, after I'm done caving your skull in," Margot's smile twitched, failing to hold back her feral excitement. "Can we get this started already?"

"I'm not gonna warn you again," Crys squared her shoulders, looming above the less than impressed Margot. "You stand on hallow ground, and I will not allow your kind to tarnish it."

"Make me leave then, bitch," Margot sneered then spat at Crys's foot, causing many of the Antari to cry out and swore in outrage, the flaring temper barely reined in by their officers.

"You wanna get fuck up that badly?! Fine!" Crys took off her jacket and tossed it to Wyck, her mountainous muscles rippling as she rolled her shoulders and spun back at the waiting Margot. "I'm gonna make you regret the first day you – argh!"

Margot's fist ended Crys's sentence, spittle of blood flew from the Antari's mouth as the Valhallan followed up with three viperish jabs that send the corporal staggering to the other side of the ring, her big frame leaning heavily on the rope.

"Shit! And here I thought this was going to be an actual fight!" Margot laughed and the Valhallan cheered, their table thankfully buffered from the Antari by two squads of very nervous looking Homeland Rifles and Praetorians. Margot then peeled off her jacket with a flourish and threw it at the smiling sergeant Grifen. "Keep the Tanna warm for me boys, I'm taking care of this real…"

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!"

The Antari hollered loudly when Crys bulled into Margot, tackling her to the ground with unrestrained force. Straddling the smaller woman, Crys grabbed a fistful of Margot's hair, and proceed to mercilessly pummel the Valhallan's face, the Ice Warrior's feeble guards crumbling easily before the Antari's hammer like blows. After three punches, brutal haymakers that would've knocked any normal person out ten times over, an angry, and still very conscious, Margot dodged Crys's hook, grabbed the Antari's arm, twist it savagely, and threw the bigger woman flat onto her back. Margot then proceed to pounce on the downed Crys, managing to land a flurry of vicious strikes on the corporal's face before the Antari rolled the Valhallan over and continued where her previous ground and pound game left off, only for the Ice Warrior to reverse the predicament. And so Crys and Margot rolled across the circle, trading bloody punches and insults, no beauty or grace, a barbaric fistfight where the two women seeks only to tear each other apart. Besides the Antari and the Valhallan, nobody cheered, most just stared silently at the violent spectacle.

"Impressive, and here I thought the Antari corporal would have already given up," keeping her face blank of emotion, Raine spared inquisitor Amberley a sideway glance as she sat down beside her, a little too close for comfort, their hips almost touching. "Nobody last this long against Margot."

"It seems I have you to thank for this bloody bout," Raine made sure her timbre was icy as she addressed Amberley, in the ring Crys was straggling Margot and slamming her head on the ground. Across the table Leilatha, Evangeline and Emily tensed, ready to intervene, but a firm look from Raine stopped them from causing a scene.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Amberley said innocently. Damn, Margot now got Crys in a guillotine choke hold. "It was general Sulla who suggested this little sparing match, I just tagged along to make sure things doesn't spiral out of control. You know how easily these feral world rituals can descend into a bloodbath, right Severina?"

"What the hell do you want Amberley?" Raine growled, not in the mood for small talk or farcical politeness. Ah, Crys was mashing Margot's face in the dirt now, good.

"Straight to point as always," Amberley chuckled and leaned her head on her upraised palm, a deceptively friendly smile gracing her face, framed by a cascade of gleaming blonde hair. "Simply put Severina, I'm here to see a preview of what is to come, if we survive this campaign of course."

"I hope you enjoy yourself Amberley," Raine spared the inquisitor a bored glance. Damn it, Crys and Margot were rolling around again. "Just a warning, the premonition you seek might not be to your liking."

"One cannot see the future dear, only the eldar Farseers can do that, and even then nothing is set in stone," Amberley gazed at her meaningfully. "But what we do right now can steer us toward a more pleasing future."

"Is that so?" Raine spun on her seat so that she was facing Amberley, their eyes locked, the fleshy smack of pounding fists a constant background noise behind her.

"Forfeit the fight, Severina," Amberley said sternly, all amicability gone. "If you know what's good for you."

"Are you that afraid of me, Amberley?" Raine snorted, enjoying the black anger smoldering in the sky blue of the inquisitor's eyes. "Then again, I shouldn't be surprise to find you trying to cut a deal with me, given your line of work."

"Oh my dear sweet commissar, you had it all wrong," Amberley's smile was serpentine, poison dripping from her gleaming white canines. "Can't you see? I'm doing this not for myself, no, I'm doing this for you."

"Excuse me?" Raine said lowly, Amberley's sugary condescension was very effective in grating her nerves.

"I will hurt you, Severina," Amberley went on, and it was in this moment that Raine noticed how the mess hall's collective attention was veering away from the fight and toward them. "In that Arena, with the entirety of the Immortal Spirit watching, I'm going to break you apart, piece by little pieces, until you're nothing but a broke wretch weeping at my feet."

"I envy your capacity for wishful thinking, Amberley, and how unanchored it is to reality," Raine chuckled disdainfully. "I've fought heretics, psykers and daemons, and I've killed all of them. Regardless of how confident you are about your more than inflated fighting skill, I will leave you battered and bloodied in that ring. And I'm going to take my time, because I know all the spots where it hurts the most. Ciaphas will never speak to me again after I'm done with you, but I don't give a damn."

"And I doubt you will have the courage to show your face in public again after the fight is done," Amberley's tone was friendly, almost conversational. "Not only will I leave you weeping in agony, I will humiliate you, shame you, rend you until the very fire of your soul gutter and die, and the best part?" Amberley glanced over Raine's shoulder. "Your precious colonel will be watching. I wonder what he will think of you then."

"That is enough! Both of you!" Leilatha rose from her seat, hands slamming loudly on the table, stopping Raine before she can lunge at Amberley. "The two of you are high ranking officers of the Astra Militarum and the Ordo Xenos, and you two will behave with the honor and dignity befitting that position."

"Lady commissar, I assure you…"

"You will remain silent until I am finish, lady inquisitor," Leilatha snapped and Amberley flinched back from the piercing utterance, sharp and commanding, even Raine was impressed despite herself being the target of the lady commissar's displeasure. "We still have a war to win, so I would suggest the two of you put aside this puerile rivalry for the sake of the battlegroup, or the Emperor as my witness I'll have the both of you confined to the brig on the Immortal Spirit for the duration of the campaign. Do I make myself clear?!"

Raine felt a little betrayed but in the end knew that Leilatha was right to chastise her, she was behaving most abominably after all. Exhaling slowly, Raine closed her eyes, willed back calm until anger and indignation simmered to a cold ember, opened her eyes, spared Amberley a dirty look, then turned to Leilatha.

"Very well," Raine stated firmly, Leilatha nodded then shifted her attention to Amberley.

"Fine," Amberley made her displeased supplication, haughty and aloof.

"I can't believe the damn Sororitas and Banshee have more sense than you two," Evangeline shook her head in disappointment, earning immediate ire from both Raine and Amberley which she shrugged off easily. "At least the xenos and the Battle Sisters know when to cast aside personal feelings."

"Indeed," Emily perfunctory placed her cup of tea down with a clink. "I dearly hope that this altercation doesn't escalate to the point where I need to intervene."

Raine found herself gulping down her nervousness, even Amberley paled visibly as they stared at the Praetorian major. Both knew that beneath the easy, disarming exterior, Emily was a visceral surgeon of the mind, able to dissect and vivisect a person's thought, character and conscience with terrible ease. Many who had sat through her psychological examination session were forever…altered. So Raine simply turned back to her cooling tea and finished it with a quick swig, Crys and Margot were still whaling at each other even when the entire mess hall was now watching her and Amberley with breathless, impolite attention. The atmosphere had become so stiflingly quiet, punctuate at interval by tireless smacking fists, that Raine took notice of…singing? Not the rousing, bombastic sort Tangmo and his fellows sang, but a slow, raspy lullaby, the enunciation laced with dark malice.

"There was a crooked man…and he walked a crooked mile…he found a crooked gold…upon a crooked stile…" Raine turned slowly to the prayer like utterance, low and grotesque, until she found a bent, twitching old man, wispy white hair falling over his shoulders, staggering around two benches occupied by the Fire Guard and the Tallarn, the guardsmen backing warily away from the decrepit camp follower, a local judging by his tattered kimono. "He brought a crooked crow…which caught a crooked nun…and they all lived together… in a little crooked tomb… far away from the blinding sun…"

"Not a terribly pleasant rhyme, is it?" Emily commented as the man turned toward their table and started to change. He bucked and bent, frames contorting to wet tearing of leathery skins and dry snaps of ancient bones, arms and legs elongating to impossible length, bleeding skins and sinews stretched taut over reddened skeletons as he grew to a towering, gangly size. The Fire Guards and the Tallarn had wisely vacated the benches as the man, crooked and terrible like his lullaby, strode toward Raine and her compatriots, his rhyme unceasing:

"I am the crooked man! And I haunt the crooked wild! Now all I want to see is the pretty girls and their bloody smile!"

Raine drew her bolt pistol and fired at the monstrosity, it screamed as the bolt tore into its face, revealing a maw filled with rows of needle sharp teeth. Amberley, Leilatha, Evangeline and Emily quickly added their firepower to the fusillade, laspistols for the Mordian and the Praetorian, a bolt pistol for the commissar and a plasma pistol for the inquisitor. The combined volley tore the daemon apart, but it took a lot more bolts and las than Raine had expected to bring the creature down. Howling rhymes erupted around them, inside and out, maddening and vile, promising nothing but nightmares and horrors. At the far end where foods were served three more of the abominations emerged, one woman and two men, all laughing as they reached for the camp followers too slow to escape. The poor souls were thrown like dolls through the air or ripped to pieces, the three monsters reveling in the carnage unleashed.

"Get out of the tent!" Leilatha roared above the wailing din as she emptied her bolt pistol on the daemons, they cackled at the damage inflicted and continued with the butchery. The Antari and the Valhallan, being nearest to where the daemons had emerged, were filing out in good order. Andren nodded as he ran passed her, followed, funnily enough, by Crys and Margot, both women were spritely despite how bloodied, bruised and beaten they looked, animosity forgotten in the face of a common enemy.

"That's everyone!" Amberley bellowed and grabbed Raine's shoulder. "Shall we?"

"After you," Raine nodded and sprinted outside, and into a raging pandemonium.

Oh thank god it's warm in here. Tangmo and Lita let out a pleased moan as they stepped inside the canonesses command tent, the place was insulated with portable heaters strategically placed around the richly furnished interior, adding a pleasing layer to the homely atmosphere bathed in soft orange light. Erik, being a freaking Nordic snowman, was unaffected by the change in temperature, smiling all the while as he threw his Ranger hood back. Now that his teeth weren't chattering, Tangmo got a good look around him, half expecting to find himself walking into a maelstrom of feminine argument. He was pleasantly surprised to find the twelve canonesses in a state of affable camaraderie, making small talks with one another or going over the digitized map on the table in the middle of the tent, making adjustments and improvement to the defenses. The women turned coldly at the three intruders, expressions varying from inquisitiveness to unfriendly.

"Hello!" Tangmo waved at the canonesses.

"Can we help you with something, lord commissar?" Morelia asked him, her annoyance unhidden.

"Just dropping by to make sure everything is in order – achoo!" Tangmo managed to cover his mouth in time. "Sorry."

"Bless you," Crestienne offered.

"Thank you," Tangmo nodded at the Argent Shroud canoness.

"Shall I offer you my cloak, lord commissar?" Eldul snickered from beside Naledi.

"I don't think that would help," Tangmo flashed the elskerinne a grin then pointed at a small table filled with snacks and, more importantly, a steaming coffee kettle, currently occupied by Heloise, Amaryllis and Victrix. "May I?"

"Of course, lord commissar," Heloise nodded as he and Lita made a beeline for the coffee, swiftly poured himself and the Warseer a cupful before taking hearty gulps, the heat scalding his mouth and throat in all the right way.

"Holy shit, that feels good," Tangmo clanged his cup with Lita's own, sharing a satisfied smile, before turning to the map table. "Anyway, as I said earlier, how are the preparations against the coming night going? Anything to report?"

"Everything is progressing well, lord commissar," Lithia, standing with Galatea, Zhensu and Myorin around the map, waved him over. Tangmo, Lita and Erik joined them and after a few minutes of skimming saw that things looked to be in tip top shape. "Every spiritual safeguard and fortification is in place. Preachers of all twelve orders now patrol the monastery complex tirelessly, singing litanies of veneration to bolster the spirit of the soldiery, while the Battle Sisters stands ready for any attack that may come at us."

"So as you can see, we have everything under control," Galatea folded her arms across her chest, looking extremely smug.

"Every time someone say that, it means we're about to be neck deep in shit," Erik stated bluntly as he picked up and chomped down on a Twinkie looking confectionary from the snack table, drawing immediate hostility from the canonesses, and although the comment could have been put forward more delicately, Tangmo agreed with the Swedish elf. The cliché was there for a reason, after all.

"Are you sure everything is under control?" Lita added more conciliatorily, sensing the nuns darkening mood. "Maybe you should double check, just to be on the safe side?"

"You dare doubt us, eldar?!" Myorin snapped at Lita, who squeaked in fright and dashed behind Tangmo.

"I'm not! Really!" Lita cried desperately, shamelessly using Tangmo as a human shield while the canonesses, not ones to take criticism with any kind of grace, stalked toward the trio, looking ready to make a counterargument with their fists. "It's just that…things might slip pass the cracks, you know? There might have been a blindspot you guys missed?"

"We do not miss anything, Warseer," Bellona growled.

"You say that, but ten times out of ten when someone thinks they're invincible, that's when shit goes down," Erik finished a second Twinkie, wiping a speck of cream from his lips with his thumb. "Damn, that is the most fatty American thing I've ever eaten in my life. You girls better go easy on them or those armors won't fit anymore."

"Erik, you fucker!" Tangmo blurted and for his part Erik realized immediately that he'd fucked up. The canonesses didn't look pissed now, they looked murderous. Clasping his hands together in a wai, Tangmo bowed lowly at Galatea who was within arm's reach of him. "Wait, wait, wait! Don't hurt us! We come in peace, for real dude!"

"Oh? Do you now?" Galatea loomed over him, glaring down her nose.

"Yes! My friend's a fucktard who says the first thing that comes to mind, but we're not here to pick a fight! Honest!" Tangmo must've sounded really scared, which he totally was, made more convincing by Erik who went to his knees and slammed his head on the ground in apology, because the canonesses had downgraded their animosity to a glower. "Look, the three of us just have a hunch that something bad is about to happen and just wanted to make sure that we're ready for it."

"We are prepared for every contingency that may arise," Amaryllis hissed, and like the other canonesses, she wasn't happy that her competency was being questioned.

"That's great! Excellent!" Tangmo held up two shaking thumbs but the armored nuns appeared adamant in turning this conversation into a physical affair, eyes narrowed and fingers clenched into fists. Lita let out a distressed moan and pulled Tangmo tighter into her, while Erik burrowed his head deeper into the carpeted floor. "And I'm very sorry for doubting you magnificent, beautiful ladies. You're sorry too, right Erik?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Erik machinegunned the apology with breathless desperation, banging his head on the ground repeatedly, this would have been one of the funniest shit Tangmo had ever seen in his life, if it wasn't for the fact that they were about to get fucked up by violent, armored women.

"You're sorry about calling them fat too, right dude?!" Tangmo went on hurriedly.

"Yes! I'm very sorry!" Erik blurted. "You're all voluptuous, thick and busty in all the right way!"

"Erik, what in the hell is wrong with you?!" Lita squealed at Erik's unfathomable dumbassery, because holy fuck, the canonesses took everything he'd just said as an insult. "They're lithe, graceful and sculpted like the warrior goddesses of old. All lean and muscular in the most divine way! Say it!"

"You're all lithe, graceful and sculpted like the warrior goddesses of old, all lean and muscular in the most divine way!" Erik repeated. "Please don't kill me!"

Finally, that seemed to at last please the canonesses, for the women relaxed their stance, fists uncoiling as they stared at the three.

"I like the way you beg, boy," Bellona snorted then took a single step forward, her foot stomping down not an inch from Erik's head. "Go on then, grovel some more."

"Okay, that's fucking enough. Get your ass up Erik," Tangmo pulled his buddy off the ground and dusted off his Ranger's uniform. He was all for Erik apologizing for his stupid mistakes, but he wasn't gonna let the Sororitas take this opportunity to treat his bro like shit.

"What a shame, I was starting to enjoy that," Eldul said and the canonesses laughed lowly.

"I'm glad you like it," Tangmo folded his arms, adamantium returning to his spine. "Look, all we're saying is that all of you should be ready if some unexpected calamity happens, a calamity of the more unearthly nature, if you catch my drift." Tangmo turned to Zhensu and Myorin. "Is the planetary eclipse complete?"

"It is, lord commissar," Zhensu told him. "Yomi has been devoured. The fifty five days of darkness has begun."

"Should we, umm, be expecting something to happen?" Lita offered weakly, very much aware that her opinion remained very unpopular, "as in, this feels like the perfect time for daemons and ghosts to rise out of the grave and terrorize the living, you know?"

"It is true that the threshold between life and death is most weak during these times," Myorin admitted after a moment. "But rest assured, the monastery is the most secure place on the planet right now, you have nothing to fear."

"I know, but, I don't want to be a pain or anything, but, are you sure…"

A scream, harrowing and piercing, cleaved through the air, stopping the canonesses from berating Lita. It was soon followed by more horrid shrieking, growing in volume and mass, like a wave cresting higher as it neared the shore, the calm ambience shattered by dins of wailing humanity.

"What did I say?! What the fuck did I say?!" Erik, his earlier meekness completely evaporated, jumped around the tent before grabbing Tangmo's shoulders and gave it a vigorous shake. "The moment anyone say 'everything's fine' is the moment everything goes to fuck! Holy shit, I love being right!"

"I'm not!" Lita cried in dismay as Zhensu spun back to the map and brought up the communication channel.

"What is happening?! Report!" The gaoseng demanded, and was rewarded with a cacophony of screams and roaring gunfire.

"They're coming right for us!"

"Daemons inside the perimeter, I repeat daemons are inside the monastery! Prepare for blood!"

"Fucking Throne those bastards are everywhere – look out! AHHHH!"

"Well shit, that sounds really bad," Tangmo commented dryly.

"For once, we are in agreement," Galatea growled as the tent flap flew open and an Eternal Legion Sororitas burst inside, her armor covered in bloody soot.

"Legatus! Canonesses! The refugees at the southern temple have been slaughtered!" The woman said, her chest heaving.

"By who?!" Victrix pulled on her plumed galea helmet.

"Some kind of monster, we barely caught a glimpse before it ran into the temple," the Battle Sister said. "Shall we pursue?"

"No, gather the legionnaires and see to the survivors, tend to them until the hospitallers arrives. In the meantime, I'll personally deal with this abomination that had dared set foot upon sacred ground of the Adepta Sororitas," Victrix looked at her sisters in arms. "Are you with me sisters?"

The canonesses nodded firmly and went about grabbing their weapons. Propping the power guandao on her shoulder, Zhensu turned to the messenger, "what of the main temple? Are the Saints safe?"

"They are. The sisters, the guards and the eldars have fortified the area, the hymn of blessing and veneration reverberates loud and unceasing," the Battle Sisters nodded. "Nothing is getting in."

"What about something getting out?" Tangmo asked, and why in the hell were the canonesses glaring at him again? That was a legitimate question!

"I don't understand, lord commissar," the Battle Sister said.

"Something could already be inside the temple right now," Tangmo drew his twin laspistols, checked the magazines, and held them firmly in his hands. "Go back to the main temple and tell the defenders to make frequent patrol of the interior. Put the best Battle Sisters, guardsmen and Aspect Warriors inside the Saints' resting chamber. Have them stand on the sarcophagus if you have to. Go!"

The Eternal Legion Battle Sister saluted and dashed back outside, forgetting in the heat of the moment that she was taking order from a commissar and not her canoness. Victrix looked pretty goddamn impressed though.

"I thought you said he was confounded moron," Victrix asked Morelia as the canonesses gathered together.

"He is," Morelia deadpanned. "But even I'm forced to admit that he is competent."

"He shows promise," Zhensu offered Tangmo a nodding smile, making him giddy as all fuck. "Thank you for the counsel, lord commissar. That was a solid tactical decision."

"I know, I'm amazing," Tangmo twirled the laspistols around his fingers then glanced at the canonesses, and holy shit the armored women looked badass. "Y'all ready?"

"We are," Myorin took the lead and headed for the tent flap. "Will you be joining us?"

"Damn right we are," Tangmo grinned toothily at Erik, who was cradling a modified eldar sniper rifle. "You game, my dude?"

"Fuck yeah I'm game, time for some ghost busting!" Erik swept his gaze left and right. "Where the hell is Lita?"

"You guys go on ahead, I'll be here, holding down the fort," Lita, having positioned herself next to a little Sororitas shrine, complete with a cute miniature figurine of Saint Celestine, waved her blessing and farewell. "Come back with your shield or on it!"

"You're coming with us," Erik deadpanned, not amused by Lita's antic.

"B-But, I don't want to get in the way of the canonesses!" Lita stammered her excuse for wanting to pussy out. "My lithe fighting style will only hamper the Sororitas more bombastic approach to combat."

"Lita, we don't have time for this bullshit," Tangmo stomped up to Lita, glowering with unhidden impatience at the Warseer, who was trying her damnedest to shrink away. "So get your ass moving, or so help me God, I'm gonna carry you out."

"You can't do that to me!" Lita cried indignantly.

"I'm a fucking commissar, that's literally my job. You're lucky I'm not shooting you right now," Tangmo went on mercilessly. "Now move."

"I am a Warseer and leader of the Aeldari on the Immortal Spirit! You cannot – ahhh! Let me go!" Lita squirmed and kicked petulantly as Tangmo grabbed the collar of her armor and dragged her outside, joining the waiting canonesses, who watched the scene with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Right, we're ready to go," Tangmo told Myorin, but not before giving Lita a quick shake, stopping her struggle. "Lead the way."

"Follow me," Myorin nodded and the canonesses took off into the perpetual night, Tangmo, Erik and Lita finding themselves at the center of the armored women's wedge formation. Agony, horror and despair coalesced into a horrid symphony around them, an unending cadence of suffering punctured by cracks and booms of roaring weaponries.

"What's wrong with her?" Eldul asked as Tangmo let the grumbling Lita go, the Warseer glaring at him as she summoned her Singing Spear, the polearm materializing out of thin air in a little gale of slivery dust, the blade pointed menacingly at his crotch.

"I just don't like the supernatural, okay?" Lita told the elskerinne. "I hate ghost and stuffs."

"If you are afraid, then why are you here?" Naledi asked cuttingly.

"Because I will never abandon my friends," Lita shot back, anger lending her strength, before glaring at Tangmo. "But I'm thinking about make an exception this time."

Tangmo rolled his eyes with exaggerated weariness before sticking his tongue out at Lita, making the Warseer blistered with greater indignation. The little spat was making Tangmo, and Lita too judging by the coy glances she shot him, quite nostalgic all things considered, fights like these were common when they had been together. He had no one to blame but himself for letting that relationship falls apart.

"Holy fuck," Tangmo was pulled from the mire of memories by Erik's breathless exclamation, their group slowing as they approach the courtyard of the southern temple. Where cobblestone paths, trimmed grasses and Zen gardens had stood in pristine tranquility, a sanctuary for the fleeing civilians of Yomi, blood and viscera now stained this once untouched haven. Corpses littered the circular square, all in various states of dismemberments, most were dead but some crawled aimlessly, caught between agony and the primal instinct to flee, tents were reduced to tatter shreds, the canvases blazing, giving the place a very apocalyptic feel. Sororitas of all twelve orders prowled across the ankle deep carnage, searching for survivors, while a significant number were gathered around a Japanese looking gate, bolters and flamers trained at the entrance.

"Miriya, Emmanis!" Galatea summoned the Martyred Lady and Ebon Chalice Celestian, the two women running up to the canoness and saluted. "Have every gate block and station all available Battle Sisters around the walls, we cannot allow the daemon to flee."

"Yes mam!" Miriya and Emmanis answered in unison.

"What of the people inside the temple?" Amaryllis asked and Emmanis shook her head despondently. The Ebon Chalice canoness cursed sharply under her breath before continuing. "And this is the work of one creature?"

"Yes mam, we've only caught a glimpse of it when we arrived," Emmanis said.

"What did it look like?" Galatea spoke up.

"A woman in white," Miriya told the canoness.

"Great! We're taking on the girl from The Ring and The Grudge," Lita moaned.

"Sadako and Kayako," Tangmo corrected Lita.

"Not helping," Lita growled at him.

"Oh, and its Ringu and Ju-On, you philistine," Tangmo continued with his aggravation.

"Still not helping!" Lita raised her voice.

"Enough!" Myorin cut into the banter and raised her nodaichi at the destroyed entrance. "We've wasted enough time, follow me."

"Children first," Tangmo shared a snorting laugh with Erik before taking the lead, the Swedish elf bracing the sniper rifle stock to his shoulder, the barrel pointed at the darkness beyond, while the Thai commissar holstered one of his laspistol and drew a flashlight, the bright white shaft piercing the blackness.

"How gentlemanly," Lithia snickered, holding her power scythe at the ready.

"Won't be first time I get hurt for trying to be chivalrous," Tangmo flashed her a lopsided smile and stepped into the temple ground.