The fire blast exploded around the knight's figure even as the sawblade launched into the explosion. Dust was thrown into the air and for a moment it obscured everything. The invisible form of the wraith shot forward, shrieking as it hungered for the knight's soul. It seemed the bargain had gone awry. But as the dust began to settle, the silver-clad figure was shown to be mostly unharmed. The hand that had previously held the crest was now outstretched, an armoured gauntlet wrapped around the wraith's head. The undead creature shrieked, attempting to turn incorporeal and yet somehow failing, as purple flames danced along it's figure. With a final agonising howl the creature dissipated, it's very essence burned into nothing. Then, calm as ever, the knight turned it's attentions once more to the mortals before it. It's figure now surrounded in purple flames and lightning, it's very glare appeared to pierce into the souls of those present. It was clear that this being was a powerful opponent indeed, judging from the casual ease with which it dispatched a powerful undead being. But the flames did not appear to be entirely it's doing, and it's form began to shimmer. Chaotic energies overtook it as space bent around it, and slowly it became clear that it was being somehow dragged out of this realm. With a hint of amusement, the choir of voices once more spoke. "It appears that I misjudged you. Unfortunate. The power I offered you would have allowed you to progress. But perhaps that stubborn head of yours may serve you. There will be greater temptations ahead. See that you rebuke them with the same fervour you now show." The knight's form began to fade, dissipating into a strange purple cloud that was drawn away into the heavens. "I came here because I felt the call of something ancient beyond even my reckoning. Beware, mortals. For the vampire is but a puppet, and the true threat to this realm is greater than even I can imagine. If you are to survive, you may need to learn to set aside old hatreds." With those words the being disappeared completely, a thunderclap sounding at it's departure. Lightning flashed, the ground seemed to tremble for a moment, and then the being was gone, leaving a silence almost as noticeable as the being's presence had been.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking@gentlemanvaultboy@tyki

Damien caught himself falling forward onto his hands after the servant of chaos had departed. The strain on his mind had been stronger than he had realized, and now that the storm of emotions was gone, he realized how much energy he had been spending.

"I'm alright." He waved off the others and pushed himself back up. "That abhorrent creature was the bane of my existence. I am much relieved that it is gone." Damien gathered his wits and looked at his ally. "It was very wise of you to refuse it, my lord devil. The forces of chaos are never to be trusted, for they are fickle and estranged to any form of honor. Perhaps it was attracted to whatever mysterious power lies here, but it just as well might have eaten us and used our flesh to make a quilt rather than remember why it had come." Damien pressed a hand to his head is if he was suffering a hangover. After that strain, he needed sleep, but he didn't want to admit such a weakness. "Lord Asmodeus, I will press on."

Even though he had dismissed what the strange knight had said as jibberish, Damien's thoughts still dwelt on it. Something about the end of the realm, and a vampire puppet. He scoffed. He was sure he could handle any old vampire. Why, he was a powerful necromancer, of course! Besides, he could surely use another undead minion now that his wraith had been destroyed. If only vampires weren't so pathetic in broad daylight...

At present, there was the matter of this soulless girl that was still with them. Damien was a young looking man, no older than his early 20's, yet he looked withered in spirit. Dark magic surrounded and flowed through him, creating an aura that would drive most innocent life away. Keeping himself close by Ozo, who had recently protected him, Damien beheld the girl with extreme distrust. Why hadn't she done him the favor of also vanishing? He leered at her, finding the closeness of a female disturbing.

Firebrand tried to put on a brave front after what had just happened, but only made it to the end of Damien's praise before dropping like a freshly severed limb. He managed to land on his feet, but his knees buckled and he collapsed forward onto him hands on the ground. He felt wet all over. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, assuming it would come back covered in blood that was now oozing from his skin in some sort of revenge for his violent rejection. Instead he found something much rarer.

Sweat wasn't normally something that happened to a demon of fire. In a way he wished it was blood. It would have been more reassuring.

The old demon rose back to his feet, pondering the meaning behind the departing gods words. A vampire puppet. That was troubling. Vampires were a high class of devil. Members of that race made up one of the greater demon worlds seven noble families, and were an extremely prideful lot. If one of them had been reduced to a mere puppet...

He shook his head, and finally caught sight of the new arrival. He stepped over to her, a little shakily at first, and looked her over. He hadn't seen anyone else from the air yesterday, but that didn't mean anything for someone human sized. She could have been in one of the buildings, a grove of trees, or simply so far away as to be beyond his sight. "You a native?" He asked.

@Gentlemanvaultboy@Wraithblade6@thewizardguy[@supertinyking

"N-no... some crazy lady threw me over here to deliver some rock to the middle of the island. Could someone please tell me what's going on?" Kyoko asks confusedly, having been beholden to quite A LOT of strange things over the course of the day, and to be entirely frank she looked about ready to just kinda lie down and curl up in a ball as the impact from earlier had left her clothes in shambles even if her skin was perfect. She was simultaneously quite the oddity in that she was utterly mundane, completely lacking in magic senses including the vacant nature of her soul and while she, herself was unblemished her clothes looked like she'd been thrown into a blender or more accurately sandblasted repeatedly but either way she'd somehow managed to keep her glasses completely unharmed.

The massive facility was in a veritable uproar. Communications had suddenly cut out with the entire inner fleet. Unconfirmable by the command center itself, due to the orbital path, they had to rely on secondhand reports from the rest of the outer fleet. People scurried to and fro, civilians and military contractors alike in a mass rush. There was no alleviating this panic. George had his work cut out for him. Not only was the US congressman insisting making repeated calls to his office, but the ambassador had once again been reported vandalizing sections of the facility.

The military police were getting agitated. The civilians were getting agitated. The soldiers and astronauts were getting agitated. A majority of the fleet was stuck in the dark, awaiting commands as they pinged outposts reported as no longer existing. And to top it off, ships in high-power telescope range of the inner solar system were reporting the Mercurial Dust Clouds missing, that Mars was back to being the red planet, and Earth was green and healthy. Fixed outposts on Pluto, the asteroid belt, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune were no longer responding.

Regardless, order slowly began to reassert itself as the transmission lasers met their marks, relaying across the fleet like a vast web. The ships in the Oort cloud were to rendezvous in orbit of Pluto, while the outer solar system fleet was to dock in Jupiter, and those without the power to make it that far, in orbit of Neptune. Of course, that left the ships on the other side of the sun in the dark. It would likely take a long time for the information to be relayed around.

So many problems. So many new developments. So little time.

---

Seeschi teetered uncertainly in the cell. Her mind swam, where were the tools of her trade? The military police insisted what she did was vandalism. Didn't they understand? It was art. Art, the purest form of expression. She had fought bravely, but the stun batons had proved too much for her. She had been apprehended. Utterly unfair. Why had the empire given her such an ambassadorial assignment? She could do so much more then represent for a primitive species. An utter disgrace.

An utter disgrace.

Sensors were still reeling from the unexpected dimensional fissure. A large portion of the Rock's sensor system had been dedicated to detecting the strange energies that were now associated with the Pop-In Effect, a temporary nickname for the mysterious phenomenon that brought beings of power to Arcadia. While usually occupied with detecting the small blips representing individual appearances and the larger blips marking the appearance of small groups the entire 3D representation of Arcadia seemed to explode in bright technicolour as the nearest techmarine frantically tapped away at the many nearby consoles. It took five minutes to ascertain that the system was not in fact overloading and another ten to discover that all of Arcadia hadn't spontaneously been covered in extra-dimensional algae. In fact the effects that had been picked up from Arcadia were the shockwave, so to speak, of what was undoubtedly the most large-scale transportation yet. It seemed that thousands of space vessels had spontaneously appeared all over the solar system, pulled in from another universe. This of course simply caused even more uproar and the disruption of the norm had the usually stunningly efficient and quiet workplace of the Rock filled with shouts of dismay and bustling Servitors.

The Rock, of course, was the name for the Dark Angels space-bound Fortress Monastery. It's name was derived from it's abnormal method of construction, in fact the entire base had been built into a giant meteor. The meteor had previously served as the mobile HQ of the Dark Angels chapter as they sailed across the galaxy, and now served as the primary home of the New Imperium's space-bound forces. It was also responsible for monitoring both the surface of Arcadia and the rest of the solar system, which was achieved with a rather impressive array of sensor equipment. Overseeing these dual duties was Supreme Grand Master Azrael, leader of the Dark Angels Chapter and the Fleet Admiral of the New Imperium, the third most powerful individual within the Imperium. The man who at this moment found his patience being tested as he quieted the room down, and with a few orders prepared the station to engage these strangers. Should they prove, as he suspected, to be merely confused strangers, they would be diplomatically engaged with. Should this, however, be some sort of mass attack from one of the other factions the station and local fleet would be fully prepared to counter, even against the truly overwhelming number of ships this new force appeared to be composed of.

It was soon discovered that, while large, this fleet was clearly in disarray. Nearby ships moved closer together while ships further away aimlessly circled around. To add to this they were all sending out signals like crazy in all directions, seemingly attempting to communicate with random patches of dirt on a variety of planets. A surprisingly small number of said ships actually sent signals towards Arcadia, which was odd considering Arcadia was clearly the only habitable place in the solar system. The Rock was able to intercept a number of such signals, but they lacked the knowledge to translate the concentrated bundles of light into data. In order to do this they would have needed to know the specific 'cipher' used for translation, although a rigorous decoding effort by the adeptus mechanicus might have been able to discover the cipher in time. Even then the actual messages were probably also encrypted, standard military protocol. And whatever race or time these ships were from, they were certainly military, many of them bearing flags and guns on their design. Azrael decided the best way to gain information about these figures was the old-fashioned way, and he designated the recently returned crew of the Devastation, an Imperial Battle Cruiser, to go say hi to the largest cluster of ships, currently orbiting Jupiter.

---

Once more Captain Dromari set off on his vessel, the Devastation. It was a fairly standard vessel by Imperial measure, a Mars-class Battle Cruiser, and billions of it's like had been deployed across the galaxy. Even the relatively understocked New Imperium still had a couple more of these flexible standard ships, hence why it was these that were sent out on important missions. However, to the USN Fleet Jovian the ship would be an astounding sight indeed. Measuring at over 5km in length the ship mounted a large variety of weapons, ranging from the immense 100m Nova Canon on it's front to the Macro Canon batteries that formed it's main offensive arsenal. The ship's design was also completely alien to them. Instead of the practical smooth metal hulls of conventional spacecraft this lumbering vessel sported cathedral-like towers and external metal decoration in some strange sci-fi gothic style. Like a flying cathedral fused with battleship and a small city, and this abomination now sailed across the gulf of space towards them. Perhaps the most surprising of all was the heavily armoured prow which seemed completely unnecessary, until one realised it was designed for ramming enemy ships. Certainly this ship would look like a thing of fantasy and myth to the estranged and confused astronauts, although it's immense size and equally immense weapons granted it a certain aura of intimidation that simply cannot be achieved without overwhelming firepower.

Doing nothing to dispel this initial aura of mystification was the fact that the first communication from the alien vessel was via psychic powers. Several of the ship's technicians and officers would have a mild headache as a voice identifying itself only as One Among Many intruded upon their minds, demanding all knowledge pertaining to the USN's communications system. While lacking the power to forcibly extract such information over such a distance the telepaths responsible were soon rewarded for their efforts, as the simple officers lacked the training to shield their thoughts and many actively thought of such things even as they were being probed. Soon the nearest USN ships would receive radio signals dictating that they were to identify themselves, and demanding contact with their leaders. Through this simple method of communication the immense ship identified itself only as being a vessel of the Imperium of Man. Further information would require active communication from the Fleet Admiral. And should the Fleet Admiral not spread order quickly, it was quite possible that a frightened ship captain would do something unfortunate.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking

Mithias landed within sight of one of the gates. He set Martin-bot down beside him. "Is everything working captain Martin?" He was glad to have something to say to take his mind of what he was about to do, to go back to them, to have to explain everything.

While Martin tested his connection, Mithias put a hand over his chest again. Goddamnit Alucard could see and hear everything they were saying. Mithias remembered this as a soft pain made this unwanted third presence clear. "Damn you Alucard." He muttered. Why had he been so foolish? He nearly threw everything away just for a chance to save a friend. At least now he was certain that that friend was no more, and the whole idea had been a waste. Now he had to answer for that and hope there was still something to be salvaged from the effort expended. Mithias really had no idea how his allied commander was going to take this, nor how he would react to the idea of working with Martin. With the enemy's taint in his blood, would they even allow Mithias to live at this point?

The vampire and the robot stood in plain view, waiting.

Mithias swiftly notices the series of Heavy Bolter Turrets that have been constructed along the oceanfront. He would have to approach from land in order to avoid being identified as a Tyranid, most likely blasted out of the sky before anyone could question it. Having thus veered off from his course he would find it easy to approach one of the nearby bunker-like outposts, armoured blocks occasionally with similar turrets placed on the top. The Imperium lacked the troops to keep manned turrets all along it's border, so instead it created these sensor relays which detect intruders. Each includes a Unity Gate, which allows the Imperium to teleport in troops at will. This was among the many things Mithias had learned from his Space Marine allies. As he approached he could faintly feel the tingling sensation that he could now associate with Unity Engine deployment, too slight for a human to notice, and a full squad of Salamanders marched out of the small building with Bolters at the ready.

The leader of the small squad marched forwards confidently, his lack of a helmet clearly showing off the jet-black skin and glowing red eyes, features to match the Imperium's leader. He looked over these two strange stragglers, one of whom was a robot. "Greetings. My name is Alyander Kairn. I will need to perform a DNA test in order to ensure that you lack the Tyranid gene sequence. Standard procedure. If you aren't infected, and you don't match one of our emergency filters, you'll be allowed to proceed." Such checkpoints had previously been found only at the entrances to cities and military bases. The Imperium had always kept up an attitude encouraging free travel. However, with the Tyranid invasion now a clear threat, stronger checks were in order. An infected individual could raise plenty of havoc even outside of population centers, gathering biomass for the main fleet and marking targets.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking

As Mithias waited, he slowly became aware of even the most subtle sounds and energies all around him. Martin-bot's spinning power core was a cacophony next to him, as silent as it otherwise was. Mithias's eyes flashed toward the unity gate the instant he felt the tingling sensation of the teleporter bringing in a small squad of marines. He could practically count them as they arrived. His senses were normally higher than any living being's, but since his run-in with Alucard, they were even sharper than that. Perhaps he had a few small advantages that he could be thankful for.

The space marines that arrived were Salamanders, kin of Vulkan. Mithias was somewhat relieved to see them. They were a brotherly lot, fiercely loyal, and extremely self-sacrificing. They were the type to never leave a man behind. Certainly they knew who Mithias was, and there was no getting by them without a DNA test.

"Well Alucard. Let us see how far Tyrannid you, and now I, are." Mithias said quietly to himself and his unseen enemy before approaching.

"Greetings, Alyander Kairn. I am Mithias Varomere, and this robot is the avatar of Martin the scientist." Mithias' uniform was still badly damaged with the black wound over his heart clearly visible, yet the vampire seemed perfectly fit and alert. I have an urgent report to deliver, but I would not endanger your people" He extended his hand. "Test my blood." Truthfully, Mithias was just as curious as anyone else if he would pass or not.

@Wraithblade6@thewizardguy@supertinyking@Tyki

"I'd tell you if I understood." Firebrand replied wearily, shaking his head. "But you're in luck. You've found a group in roughly the same situation, headed to the same place. You're welcome to stumble along with us," he tilted his head toward Damien. "Provided you let my friend there examine that stone you mentioned."

It wasn't that odd to just pick up someone you happened to meet. That's exactly how the force that had stood triumphant when the barriers between worlds had tarted breaking down. Just a bunch of strangers thrown together by chance, running roughshod over the carefully negotiated alliances of all who opposed them.

@Gentlemanvaultboy @Wraithblade6 @thewizardguy @Tyki

Ozo stood back, and watched what unfolded before him. Before he could even begin to move to aid Firebrand, after his fall, he showed he was fine, saving for having broken a sweat. Then, a woman appeared, human, or, so he thought. He saw her torn clothes, and heard her story, and felt pity. A poor girl, thrown into something beyond her.
"Indeed, you can travel with us. We don't bite! Well, I don't, at least, unless you're evil. Then I bite. I bite a lot then." Ozo jokes, alluding to his tendency of eating evil doers. VERY, evil doers. He then winced a bit, thinking that might be getting off on the wrong note. "Err, I don't eat people, unless they're the kind of people who relishes in evil, and who can't be redeemed...which..I give them a wide breath when it comes to that, so, it'll take a lot." He explains, hoping to avoid any sort of worry.
He, then for the most part, feeling like he's done nothing but worry the others, sorta shuts up, and waits for their reaction, sweating slightly.

@Gentlemanvaultboy@supertinyking@Wraithblade6@thewizardguy

"It's just a pebble isn't it? maybe some obsidian i guess" she says evenly, holding the stone of rather immense amounts of evil power as though it were that; just a rock. However, she does hand it over to be examined by the seemingly normal, albeit rather pale man that functioned as something of a necromancer. However, it was quite obviously that she was vastly more interested in the talking cat-fish man and the very obviously magical demon present more so than actually afraid of them considering how nice they were. "I'm not evil, mister catfish... just a nurse that got slapped really hard by something really big and wound up here..." she says with a small sigh, seemingly unaware of her oddities that were jarringly obvious to the rest of the party.

@Tyki@supertinyking@Gentlemanvaultboy

Damien cautiously approached the young woman who called herself a nurse. He was a dark-robed youthful faced man with long black hair and brown eyes, except now his eyes were solid white. The lines on his face were clear, showing that this human had aged, had suffered. A faint cold radiated from him and he smelled like earth and rotting leaves. He reached out a pale, yet living hand and hovered it over the black stone.

No smile marred his hateful glare as he caressed the evil aura about the artifact. Damien blinked like a living creature unconsciously as he studied it. "Just a source of contained power." He said, revealing only that much. "How did you come by this again, girl?"

@Tyki@supertinyking@Wraithblade6

Firebrands eyebrows perked up. "How much power?" he asked. "Enough to break this enchantment sending us in circles?" Demons didn't care much for any sort of god but considering he'd just refused a great temptation the reeked of some sort of cosmic reward. He looked over at the girl again. Didn't look like an angel, but how would a simple nurse get a hold of something like that?

@Wraithblade6@supertinyking
((Mother of all way-too-late posts. I apologize profusely to everyone involved))

The Space Marines step forward, their leader nodding briefly as an Apothecary in the white armour of his craft applied an odd device to Mithias' wrist. A small needle took a blood sample which was drawn into the centre of the device and thoroughly scanned. As the device emits a low buzzing noise the Apothecary carefully measures the readings, displayed in a series of symbols whom's meaning was lost on those not trained in the device's use. While the apothecary did not give the order to shoot, neither did he gesture for his companions to lower the weapons pointed at Mithias. Instead he simply seemed to offer a small prayer over the device and try again, this time spending significantly longer to study the results. From the brief sideways glance shared between two of the Salamanders battle brothers it was clear that this was not a usual occurence - Astartes were not given to much nonverbal communication.

As Mithias waited to hear his fate a strange type of Marine stepped forth from the small bunker. He wore the same muted green as the others, but a series of large mechanical arms extended from his back, tools mounted on their ends. Several such tools also looked like they might be repurposed as weapons, laser cutters and large mechanical vises. He moved towards Martin's robotic avatar and seemed to perform a short prayer-like ceremony, before waving an odd device at the robot. Seemingly mollified by whatever result this yielded the Techmarine nodded to the luitenant and returned to the bunker, presumably teleported out to see to other duties. Perhaps he had been brought here to ascertain the robot was not, in fact, a walking bomb. After all, there were plenty of non-Tyranid forces who would benefit should the Empire suffer, and even the New Empire had inherited some of the paranoia of it's older incarnation.

The Apothecary seemed to grunt in exasperation as he scanned through the readouts once more - a grand gesture for a Space Marine. The first test had already confirmed that this stranger contained no Tyranid DNA, and he had been about to allow them to pass, when he had more closely examined the DNA code. The DNA readout seemed to be similar to what would be expected of an Adeptus Astartes, and more extensive probing had shown that it appeared to be a heavily warped Salamanders geneseed. But this figure was clearly not an Astartes, with his small build and yellow, reptilian eyes. So he had taken a second reading to confirm, and this second reading had been yet more confusing. For it was completely and utterly different, instead indicating that this stranger was some kind of immense monstrous xenos, a combination that was utterly alien to the Apothecary. The third reading had yielded similarly dissimilar results, against all likelihood indicating that he was now testing a squirrel of some sort. He had checked the device for malfunction but it had proven to be completely functioning, instead indicating that this being's DNA was highly anomalous.

Walking back to meet with his commander, the Salamanders briefly discussed the situation. Then two of them marched forward to grab Mithias by the arms, dragging him forward in their steel grip. The luitenant briefly explained the situation, his voice deep and mechanical through the filter of his helmet. "You are being taken to a holding cell for further testing until we can ascertain what method was used to manipulate your DNA results. If you do not attempt to escape you will not be killed, unless we find Genestealer contamination." With these brief words Mithias would be dragged off towards the bunker, and the portal that would take him to some heavily guarded facility. Martin's drone was not given any specific commands, but the stance of the Marine who still stood watching him - weapon relaxed now - indicated that he was free to follow, if he wished. But he had been relegated to secondary importance.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking

Mithias did not so much as wince as the device on his wrist drew its sample. He waited. There seemed to be a problem, and he began to worry. Hopefully, they remembered NOT to outright kill him. He wondered, perhaps, if he were dangerously contaminated, they could contain him, isolate him... maybe find some way to purify him. In the worse case, they could launch him into space. Erm... Actually, he really hoped they wouldn't think of that one.

Mithias took his arm back when the scanner was removed and rubbed his wrist with an anticipatory look upon his brow.

"You are being taken to a holding cell for further testing..."

Silently, the vampire nodded and gave himself up to the green marines. Being dragged off was a bit reminiscent of his first time meeting the Imperial forces. Ah, things had almost been better then. Still, he had no idea what the scanner had revealed about his blood as he was taken into the bunker for teleportation. Nonetheless, he was going to make it clear that he was no enemy, that if there was any hope for him, he willingly rest his trust with Vulkan and his army.

There was something different about these beings who called themselves human. From both Vulkan and his men, Mithias could sense the greatest devotion and purity of heart. It was beautiful and disarming, logical and true, an aspect of their souls that was so real it practically had mass. It called to the noble, knightly cord in Mithias' heart, and already he knew he could never raise his hands against them. Carried in their metal gauntlets, Mithias bowed his head for the flaws he saw within himself that kept him shy of reflecting such glory. Deeply inspired, he inwardly began his repentance.

Mithias entered the holding cell easily, oddly thanking his escorts as they locked him up and left. Day 3 was it? And now he would wait. ... He took a seat on the floor and folded his legs. Meditation would be best, his thoughts and emotions were a jumble. He had no idea where the Martin-bot had been lead to. Certainly, Martin would explain as much as he could. Mithias would have to divulge the rest, such as who Alucard was and what his capabilities were. It was quiet. ... A sinister fluid pulsed through his veins, and Mithias exhaled a controlled breath. What was Alucard's blood? If anyone could find out, perhaps the Imperium could. Their technology was extremely advanced as far as Mithias was concerned, and as long as they had him, they could run tests. Perhaps Alucard had accidentally given them the key to his own destruction by contaminating Mithias. One could only hope.

Mithias concentrated to quiet the pulse of darkness within him. Soon he began to recall the events in the Atlantic. He and Tsukune had shared a bond of the soul, and he remembered a very specific sword technique, something that involved mind, body, soul, and science all acting on concert on the edge of a blade. The memory played out in his mind, over and over, and with each remembered stroke, more detail and more memory became clear. Pain of grief struck him as he also increasingly remembered the friend he had lost, and yet somehow this mental agony only made his concentration stronger, his cuts quicker in his mind.

A radiant green energy stirred around the meditating vampire in his cell. It caused no harm to the structures around it, nor any harm to the one generating it, yet the black mark on the vampire's chest began to shrink slightly.

@Gentlemanvaultboy @Wraithblade6 @Tyki @thewizardguy

"Power? A stone? May, may I see it?" Ozo pipes up, his interests peaked by such a thing. Evil powers normally were bad news, and while he had no real idea how to study it, he'd give it a shot. Besides, he knew that such artifacts, if that was what it was, could hold terrible powers, ones that could cause pain and suffering.
"Worst comes to worst, I'll eat the damn thing." He thinks, his mind wandering to all the possibilities of what this stone could do. Destroy the world, summon undead, manipulate reality to blot out the sun itself?! All such horrible possibilities. It was his right...no, his duty as a hero to destroy this thing, should he detect it to be truly vile! He was Ozo, the GREAT! He would not stand by, hands in pockets, as some poor unsuspecting girl was stuck being bullied by some dark wizard, or whatever being could muster up dark powers!
"Also, Miss, you've found yourself embroiled in some madness then, but fear not. I'll make sure you are safe. My name is Ozo, some call me the Great. I fancy myself a hero. Going around, saving people, and you will be no different. Evil fears my bite, and there for, you will be safe with me here." He declares, pointing a finger to the sky as he says as such, striking a heroic pose. Well, as heroic as a fat catfish frog man can be.

@Wraithblade6 @thewizardguy

The small mechanical device wirrs, and follows where they are taking Mithias, silent, on looking. However, in actuality, it's making a map of the route to the vampire. The small robot could easily be stomped out by a marine, but none of them made a move to do so. When the Imperial Servants place Mithias into the cell, the robot moves into the cell, and looks at the vampire.
".....Well, that's interesting." A small voice box chirps. It was not Martin's voice, but the voice of a woman, a mechanical woman, cold, and despite what it said, very disinterested. "My name is Suzzi, I am the A.I on the space station 13. Martin has instructed me to stay with you, and keep you safe. Which, for right now, is to just stay in this cell with you. Escape would be foolish, and lethal, as you no doubt already know." She chips. Her mind, stripped of much of her humanity, gave her no true ideals when it came to hope, and daring, following more strict logic, and cold truths.

Back on his space station, Mr. Robinson begins to do what he does best. Pulling out the user manual of the genetic alteration machines on the station, his robotic implants letting him read it in half the time it would take. He looked to the machines, and an idea bloomed in his mind.
"....We're facing something like the xenomorphs, if what Mithias's blabberings were right...maybe...just maybe, I should bring in some alien reinforcements." He muses aloud, as he begins work, gathering dna samples from several different creatures. Slime-men, several of the former members of the ship, as their genetics are saved onto a mainframe. Other sentient monsters, grown in the xeno-biology wing. With these samples, he begins his work.
The station moves to hide, for the moment, in Africa, hiding in the Sahara Desert, the heat emissions being hidden by the baking heat of the sun in the desert. Martin begins his work, in secret, hiding from the prying eyes that would seek to destroy him.

As Mithias was dragged from to his cell he was pulled through multiple portals, Martin allowed to follow behind but unable to track where they were going. Their eventual destination was deep underground, and no conventional means would allow the small drone to track down this particular location. The cell was, in essence, a large steel box seperated by the rest of the facility by a power field. It appeared they were treating Mithias as a first-degree prisoner. The only entrance was a teleportation device which could only be activated from the outside, making breaking out practically impossible and disrupting any and all communications devices. Martin's little bot was also pushed into the cell, forcing Suzzi to make do with what intelligence was stored on the bot itself, unable to communicate with the space station on which it's main intelligence was stored.

Meanwhile, data sent to the Rock revealed the previous location of Martin's space station. By intercepting and tracing the live connection that had allowed first Martin, and then Suzy, to interact with Martin, the advanced sensory systems of the Rock were easily able to divine the point of transmission. Of course the kill squad sent to that location would find nothing there, Martin had done well to move his base of operations away. But the secondary team, consisting of servitors and techmarines, would be searching the air for the 'tracks' left by a vehicle of that size. Being mere minutes behind they were able to pick up some traces, and began the arduous search for a trail. The forces of the Imperium were well aware of Martin's involvement in this, and they intended to secure him once and for all. If he wasn't theirs to use, then he was a potential threats. And all potential threats were neutralised.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking

Mithias sat in the center of his cell, meditating peacefully, for a while. The robot AI's chirps initially went unanswered. The vampire's eyes remained closed and his breathing almost imperceptible. A calmness settled in the room as the torrents of Mithias' mind resolved themselves, his memories dealt with, his focus clear. The hum of the energy field seemed to be the only reminder of where they were and that reality itself didn't miss them.

After an arbitrary amount of time, Mithias' lips parted and his eyes cracked open. "Suzzi." Finally, she got a response. "Have you no contact with Martin?" He waited. It appeared the answer was no. "I could in fact escape from here. The Jigen-tou and I are one. But, I will not. I've caused enough damage already. This time, I'm going to reign myself to wiser council. I hope that it is coming." Clearly, the aged vampire was worried, but at the time, he was determined to exercise some self discipline. "It will be a difficult test of my faith to sit still while the clock is ticking, but I see no better choice. Hmm. Sometimes I wish I had the power to speak to other minds."

Suzzi probably had no idea what Mithias was talking about.

Mithias looked over at the fairly useless robot, his sole companion for possibly the rest of his life. "I assume you will be recording events for Martin's review later, if you ever get back to him, and if there ever is a 'later.'" Mithias reflected on current events. "Martin is a very fearful creature, especially of the space marines. I do hope the two do not attack each other a second time. Martin's genius may be the only thing that can help us save this world, and if he ends up freaking out, the Imperial soldiers will exterminate him." Mithias inhaled deeply, concerned about this potential outcome. "I believe I would miss him, although I hardly knew him. I suppose I should be preparing myself to miss everybody, but bah!" He shook his head disapprovingly. "Cannot lose control, cannot give in." He regained his calm, then casually his vision drifted upward. "Oh, but how much easier it would be if I had the faintest glimmer of hope to hold onto. Vulkan, where are you? Return to me..."

With his wish, his longing, a minute connection was felt by the other, the one being who had tasted of Mithias' blood. It was unintentional, yet undeniable. Mithias hadn't planned it, yet it happened. Vulkan, wherever he was, could sense him, and that he was sought by the little vampire. Responding to the subtle call would be his choice, of course, for only the smallest drop of blood had touched his lips, but he knew. He knew where Mithias waited and was kept.