Bright_Ops

An Alternate Universe Naruto Story

Will work on Ro when I've got time.

An Alternate Universe Naruto Story

@anothered

1. The Kikai clan started out as a nameless bottom feeder clan prior to the Village era until a medic ninja named Baraba started doing some experimentation to deal with the crippling injuries and lost limbs that were hindering the clan. Through trial, error, experimentation and almost certainly some crimes that the clan keeps very quiet, Baraba developed the secret of living metal and fusing machinery and flesh together.

2. This discovery altered the clan heavily from scavengers that were barely surviving to a major clan in the region. Mechanically speaking, the Kikai who opted to undergo the process of being augmented were trading raw chakra and finer chakra control (ie, the ability to use Ninjutsu and Genjutsu) for vastly improved Taijutsu and near immunity to Genjutsu (because of reasons listed in the above clan history). To make up the difference for the loss of ninjutsu, weapons and tricks were installed into their bodies in a manner similar to puppeteers.

3. Rather then compete with the Senju and the Aburame, both of whom the Kikai were weak against, they instead joined them in an alliance against the Uchiha, with the Kikai and Aburame filling in the Senju ranks where their strongest members couldn't be during larger conflicts.

4. When Konoha was formed, the Kikai were invited and they joined.

5. During the third war when Konoha was being pushed back on several fronts, a sub-sect of the Kikai developed chakra powered war engines of highly destructive power to help turn the tide without sharing with the rest of the clan how they did it. When they were investigated, it was revealed that this sub-sect had developed a method of randomly summoning summon creatures without the need for a contract, which they would then forcefully and painfully bind to their war engines to serve as fuel. Horrified by these actions and with fear that Konoha would come down on the whole clan hard if they didn't act (since Konoha had a number of summoners, including the Hokage themself) they tried to end the practice and bring those accountable to justice.

The sub-sect violently disagreed with the rest of the clan, activating and turning their remaining war engines on them in the process. Many Kikai died and the destruction and bloodshed spilled out into Konoha proper. The traitorous sub-sect fled the village in the chaos, with the Kikai loyal to Konoha instead focused on trying to stop the carnage rather then pursuit. Their heroics and the amount of Kikai that died in the incident somewhat shielded them from the legal consequences of the whole mess, but even years later the incident lingers in the minds of many.

6. The traitorous sub-sect still exists as a rogue ninja faction, creating and refining their weapons of war and selling them to the highest bidder.

An Alternate Universe Naruto Story

WIP

A P P E A R A N C E

N A M E
Kikai Ro

P E R S O N A L I T Y

B A C K S T O R Y

C H A K R A

A B I L I T I E S

E Q U I P M E N T

C L A N H I S T O R Y

The story so far

The Kikai clan has a disturbing reputation around it for its members being more machine then man in both body and mind. There is a vast degree of truth behind the reputation and has been since the early days of the clan.

In the bloodstained pages of history before the foundation of Konohagakure, the clan that would become the Kikai were a minor player who survived largely by taking the low stakes, low paying jobs that the major clans didn't bother to muddy their prestige with. Without the techniques or power to stand their own against power houses like the Uchiha and the Senju, they simply scavenged what living they could while competing against other minor clans.

This changed when the recognized founder of the modern day Kikai, Baraba was treating some of his wounded kin after a bloody clash. A well practiced medical ninja at the time, the struggles of the clan were only worsened with each missing limb or crippling injury and there was very little that standard medical knowledge at the time could do about it... so Baraba started looking into alternative methods of dealing with those problem.

While the Kikai speak of Baraba's efforts to outsiders with a veil of myth, legend and mysticism, the actual truth that is known by the clan is that it was all trial, error and experimentation... through the exact details of what those are is known only by elders of the clan. Regardless, the end result was finding his answers in what the Kikai would become known for; Machinery, and the fusion of it with biological components (IE, the human body).

At first this boon was limited to the replacement of lost body parts or senses, but as his patients went back into the field interesting advantages were discovered. While the physical advantages of having metal body parts were figured out fairly quickly (much harder to damage, didn't deal with aches and pains, poisons attempting to enter via the limb were pointless, the major improvements to Taijutsu, ect) the discovery that changed the course of the clan forever; Those who had sensory parts (Eyes, Ears or Nose) replaced were suddenly immune to genjutsu that targeted the respective sense.

There were two reasons this and why both actually rather complex in understand the how, there are simple explanations for both. The first was that while chakra would passively into the replacement part like a normal limb, the replacement part did something to the chakra to turn it into a different kind of life energy to power the machine parts. When this 'machine life source' cycles back around to the organic, it changes back into chakra. How the Kikai were able to make their machine parts do this is one of the clans most deeply guarded secrets and it isn't above killing allies to keep it.

The second was the fact that the connections between the brain and the replacement, artificial sensors were 'tighter' and more direct then their organic counterpart. Since Genjutsu worked by injecting the 'illusion' into the chakra in the gap connecting the sensory organ in question and the brain to feed the latter false information, having what is effectively two different kinds of chakra that change from one to the other and lack the traditional connections for a genjutsu to plant itself anyway basically stops all but the most powerful, brute force genjutsu from having any effect at all, let alone stick for long.

This did come at the price that those with the replacements would find their ability to use ninjutsu waning with each new addition, since the constant flux stopped genjutsu from having an effect also interfered with the ability to channel energy into ninjutsu... however, many deemed it a price worth paying since few of them knew any ninjutsu that outweighed the benefits. Many started implanting weapons or tricks into themselves in order to make up for the lack, in a similar manner to the puppet masters of Suna.

The art of combining metal and flesh in the manner they did would literally remake the Kikai into a major clan worthy of respect. One able to stand toe to toe with many of the other great clans of the era... with two notable exceptions: The Senju and the Aburame. An encounter against the Aburame required a great deal of preparation for a Kikai to survive the encounter, since the Aburame's chakra draining insects did... terrible things to the Kikai. As for the Senju, the fighting styles the Kikai were developing around their strengths and weaknesses were simply at a disadvantage against the wood users.

Rather then fight the two clans that they were at a disadvantage against, Baraba instead opted to ally with both Senju and Aburame instead. This turned out to be a naturally easy alliance to form, as while the Senju were the only true rivals for the Uchiha, the Kikai and Aburame clans were well suited to the task in their own ways and good allies to have during larger scale conflicts where the stronger Senju couldn't be everywhere.

The success of this alliance has often been considered by historians to be a factor in the Senju clans decision to reach out to their long time rivals the Uchiha to found Konohagakure. An invitation to join that the Kikai were happy to accept.

Since those early days, the Kikai clan has evolved for better and worse. While the clan goes to great lengths to appear united to outsiders, the truth is that within the clan are a number of sub-sects and ideological differences. The three major and known sub-sects of the Kikai's that the powers of Konohagakure are aware of are the Balanced, the Biological Purists and the Extremists.

The Balanced as they are labelled are rather moderate in their augmentics. They believe in having the upgrades to themselves they require to be great shinobi, but that there is an ideal balance of metal and flesh to be found.

The Extremists as they are often called have largely decried the weaknesses of flesh and seek to transform themselves fully into living machines; To this end they have a list of organs that cannot be replaced with machinery at this point in time that they strive to make smaller, but the great hurdle towards immortality via replacing those fleshing parts when they wear out they haven't been able to overcome yet is the brain.

The Biological Purists could be called a young sect of the clan, through they do argue that their core ideals have been around since Baraba. The Purists believe that the human body is the greatest machine of all and through medical jutsu, strive to improve it to the point of peak performance and even perfection. To maintain the chakra control they need for their medical jutsu, they do not augment themselves with machinery.

Despite its internal disagreements, only once has the Kikai ever suffered a schism that resulted in bloodshed and violence; During the darkest days of the Third War, when Konohagakure was suffering heavily losses and was being pushed back, a sect of the Kikai with a focus on Humanity being the highest form of life on the planet rolled out powerful, chakra fueled weapons of war and sent them into the most deadly of the battlefronts. These engines of war were incredibly effective, each one able to kill half a dozen squads of enemy shinobi easily before being cut down, a powerful explosion destroying them in defeat to destroy the evidence of how the engines worked while taking down a few more enemies.

They stabilized the front and saved countless lives in the process... but the rest of the Kikai didn't know what this strange sect had done to create these weapons of war and sort to find out with the quiet support of the Hokage. The truth was terrifying.

The Human Supremacists had discovered a means of summoning without a contract; They couldn't control what was summoned, but their method meant they could control around about how strong the random summon was going to be. This unfortunate summon would they be bound via methods both agonizing to the summon and very much against their will to the war engine, where they would serve as fuel until the engine they were bound to was destroyed, in which case they would die with it.

The rest of the Kikai were horrified by this discovery and felt that this practiced need to stop, now. With many highly ranked shinobi of Konohagakure with summoning contracts (not least of which was the Hokage themself), it was felt that if the clan didn't act first to stop this vile practice themselves, there would be serious consequences for the entire clan if it seemed like they were tolerating it.

The Supremacist sect disagreed with the verdict of the rest of the clan and when violence broke out, they turned what remaining war engines they had on their kin. The fighting that followed killed a sizable number of Kikai, damaged their compound badly and spilled out into Konohagakure proper where a number of innocent people were killed. The Kikai loyal to Konoha abandoned pursuing their traitorous kin as they fled in order to focus on stopping the rampaging war engines and limiting the destruction and bloodshed. The traitorous Supremacist sect survives to the modern era as rogue shinobi, selling their twisted engines of war to whomever is willing to pay.

While the Kikai have rebuilt since the third war, the incident still lingers in the public memory... and the memory of the clan itself. Enough of the Kikai themselves died in the incident and their heroics to try and limit the damage of their traitor kin served to limit the bad blood such an incident could have caused, but years later there is still lingering anger and sorrow because of it. The Kikai have also fallen in status as well that still hasn't recovered, through they are striving to rebuild their standing once more.

Mostly just sharing for the custom clan history to see if it's okay.

An Alternate Universe Naruto Story

Just a question before I sit down and put the idea I have in my brain onto metaphysical paper: Are we allowed to establish a bit of custom history via custom clans to the setting?

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

The Mercia Front: Hive Houston

In the underhive of Hive Houston lay a vast sway of territory that was held in dread for its dark reputation. A place in the hive in which the spirits of the demented, vengeful dead clung close to the realm of the living and monsters and demons of old came to hunt for souls... and sometimes one might slip a bit further out of its hunting ground in search of prey if the conditions were horribly right. A place where the shadows themselves would consume anyone or anything stupid enough to wander into them. A place where animals would go completely mad trying to flee rather then go anywhere near.

It was called it the Ghosthive. No one knew why it was the way that it was, but it had been that way for longer then living memory. The official records of the area stored in the upper hive did not make mention of any supernatural elements within the regions that made up the Ghosthive back when the idea of sending maintenance crews into the Underhive wasn't laughable, through the long and often contradictory list of dangers and issues to theoretical maintenance staff and why they couldn't send teams into that zone decades before the rest of the underhive was simply abandoned suggested that even in the relatively young days of Hive Houston that there had been something fundamentally unnatural about that part of the underhive.

It was also where Jzzist and his gang had once willingly called home. While at the time many viewed Jzzist as completely batshit insane for trying, his success at curving a place for himself and his followers in the Ghosthive proved that it could be done... through it didn't disprove the possibility of him being completely insane.

As Jzzist himself had told those in his command, both back in the past and present, surviving in such a place was simply a matter of understanding the rules of it. There had been trial and error of course, but the lessons learned were made incredibly clear:

1: Do not wander into the dark. The Shadows will eat you.

2: Do not go off by yourself. If you find yourself alone for any reason, light yourself up as much as possible and backtrack the way you came until you find the entrance to the Ghosthive you entered from. If you cannot remember the exact path you took to get where you are, you were going to die.

3: Do not trust anything you see or hear at face value. Illusions and mind games are common tactics for the ghosts and things in the shadows to try and get easy prey.

4: If at any point a member of a designated squad is not in line of sight with anyone else for any length of time longer then eight seconds, they can no longer be trusted to be who they are and need to leave.

5: Any 'human' that is not originally with your group and tried to approach your group needed to be shot on sight. No matter who it appears to be or what they say, they are not a person.

6: Anything that tries to get you to leave the path is to be ignored.

There were other rules... other entities that stood out among the shadows that they stalked in the Ghosthive... but Jzzist and his companions didn't know them. Not well enough to trust a life or death encounter at any rate. Thankfully, for the purposes of escorting the legion and its forces through the Ghosthive into the safe havens that Jzzist had originally created as strongholds against other gangs and the authorities those seven would be more then up to the task.

They would have to be.

...................................................

As far as stealth operations went, history would record this as one of the stranger ones. A fighting column solders of various types, each one lit up as brightly as the various light sources they could find or scavenge could make them while their footfalls echoed against the utter silence of the dead, dark hallways of the Ghosthive.

The first sign that something was going wrong was the death of one of the few remaining operational lights in the ceiling.

Flicker...Flicker... Dead... Darkness.

Considering the lights that was being carried by both those in the legion and their auxiliaries in order to make themselves as bright as possible at all times in the dark realm of the Ghosthive, this didn't draw the kind of attention that it might have in other circumstances.

In the moment, exactly who looked up wasn't as important as the fact that someone had done so... and the cry of "COLLAPSE! DODGE!" rang out for all to hear. Some looked up, but others bolted in whatever direction they felt would be the best for their own personal survival. The legionaries themselves, super human in reflex as they were in the rest of their body, not only clocked where the danger was coming from but were easily able to get out of harms way. Some even grabbed their slower auxiliary followers in order to carry them to more immediate safety, even as others didn't.

The titanic crunch of tonnes of metal and ceremite slamming into the ground was thunderous, even more so due to the utter silence in which the collapse had taken place. The one silver lining for those who had been too slow on the uptake or unlucky enough not to be near one of the more caring members of the legion was that their deaths were almost instantaneous; There was no time or room for suffering and pain before they left the living world.

The path itself was not completely blocked off. The wreckage that had fallen prevented travel, but there multiple gaps in which the makeshift obstruction could be seen through. With some time and a bit of effort, a passageway could be opened up in it to allow access through once again. A tiresome delay maybe, but safer then taking a detour into the unknown horrors of the Ghosthive.

No one realized that another of the hives limited supply of remaining lights had flickered out like the first one had until the monstrous crash that followed, mixed in with the torturous sounds of crushed metal and broken bodies. Like the first, it had broken away from the ceiling and fallen in an unnatural silence that its impact against the ground hadn't shared.

Even as those on the outside of the obstructions turned in order to work on clearing a path through them for the sake of getting things moving smoothly again, several heads started to look around at the area that they had suddenly found themselves trapped. A hallway without doors or recognizable weak points in the walls or floor that had just had the only two directions one could travel it sealed off by wreckage caused by the suspiciously silent failing of hive structure that had stood for centuries at the youngest... in two different places within the frame of twenty seconds from each other.

Guns were raised into ready positions. Knives, axes were brought to the ready and two separate chainswords roared to life as their owners slowly and methodically started to scan the area. This had to be an ambush of some kind... and yet... nothing. Only silence... and deepening shadows.

.....................................................

Squad Sergent Konrad Amutiel was careful as he slowly turned in a circle, his grip on the shaft of his chainaxe tightening even as he missed the weight of a shield strapped to his forearm. Experience from before his ascension into his current form ensured that his turn was deliberately careful, so as to avoid sweeping his allies legs from under them with his thick, crocodilian tail... but it also served to allow him to take his time in absorbing all possible details at his own pace, rather then the frantic one that the situation seemed inclined to encourage.

Both paths out had been blocked, leaving himself and the sixty five other members of the expedition (Six Marines, fifty nine auxiliaries) trapped. He could already hear and observe that allies on the other side of both blockages were striving to clear a route and thus when he gave the order to those under his immediate command to rally around him, he did so with the knowledge that he could focus on the very real danger that they might be in.

Danger that manifested itself when one of the marines named Gal spotted something and announced "What is that?!" while lighting up a seemingly blank section of wall, drawing the attention of everyone else to it as well.

A more panicked or hasty look might have simply excused it as a leak from some long neglected pipe or a strain that had endured for who knew how long, but even without the benefit of putting light directly on it, careful observation would notice that it seemed to be spreading out along the wall: An inky pool of darkness so deep that it seemed to devour the light that made contact with it and made lesser shadows appear a mere, dirty shade of grey.

Puddle was the word that Konrad would have used to describe what he was seeing, because the way that it was spreading reminded him of liquid in a way; Like something was dipping down from above and causing a puddle to form and grow, only the source was coming from the other-side of the wall and rather then a traditional 'up-down' relationship with gravity, it was dripping in from a ninety degree angle.

Several beams of volkite and a wave of bullets shot out at the puddle of growing darkness... and nothing seemed to happen as a result of it. The growing darkness didn't seem to be stalled by the attack at all... and yet there was a complete lack of sounds of either bullet or burning beam striking the wall behind it.

To say 'it' stepped out of the darkness wouldn't be true. From Konrad's point of view, it was more like the puddle was pulling parts of itself towards the center in order to form new shapes that were being pushed out of the wall. While he had never seen an actual equine in his life, even the sewer depths of the hive he had originally called him had graffiti and old pictures of the creatures that had once wandered Terra freely; This... thing kind of looked like one of those old creatures, but instead of flesh and bone it was solely made of something that looked like ink and maintained that form despite the fact that its body clearly wanted to return to a puddle like state at any given moment.

Two hooves legs connected to the front half of a torso that was sticking out of the wall, leading up to an equine face with... glowing white, humanoid eyes as horns stuck haphazardly out of its head to form a nightmarish regal crown as it glared at each and every one of them... even as bullets and blasts of volkite peppered its body to no effect, all seemingly being absorbed by the darkness of its mass like drops of rain.

Its maw opened wide unlike that of a serpent, since one doesn't need to unhinge their jaw when they didn't have jaw bones. There was a horrific sound, like air trying to be pulled into lungs that can no longer hold it. A light started to glow from its open maw... and it took Konrad several moments to realize that the blocked off 'room' they were in seemed to be growing darker; The lights they had brought were still on and powered, but the light they were producing was just... not strong enough to force back the darkness anymore... and growing weaker by the second.

As the darkness deepened, other shapes started to crawl out of the dark pool that had consumed the wall completely. Some humanoid... some animal... others a twisted abomination of both and many more that Konrad doubted anything had ever been witness too and maintained sanity or life. Some of the shapes had a third dimension, but more then a few of the shadow entities clawing their way towards them under the increasing darkness were little more then monstrous shadows pressed against the ground... through there was a very human feeling of dread in Konrad's hearts that these things were still highly dangerous despite their seeming limitation.

Chaos descended upon the auxiliaries. Some primal terror that even the cruel and brutal realities of their lives on a war torn wasteland of a world couldn't dull seemed to grip each and every one of them, through how they responded was individualistic. A number continued to fire their weapons at the incoming darkness and the things within it, despite the fact that bullets clearly weren't doing anything while wailing and laughing in a manner that suggested that they weren't going to be responsive. A small handful seemed to be consumed by a maniac sort of bravery as they abandoned ranged weaponry and instead turned to melee, charging forth.

Fear driven bellows turned into some of the most agonizing screams of torment that Konrad had ever heard before and never wished to hear again.

Others ran for the wreckage that blocked either side of their current battlefield, attempting everything in their power to try and escape; Some of the more coherent ones were even able to bring themselves to plead and beg for help as they clawed at unflinching stone and steel. The shadows seemed to intentionally move to cut off these groups from the main center one that had rallied around him. Like those who charged forth, he didn't see what happened to them... a part of him didn't want too.

The ones he personally didn't understand were those that just... seemed to stop functioning at all. There were a couple who had clearly passed out or feinted sure, but some of them... it was like seeing a puppet with its strings cut, only with an actual person. They weren't out cold or anything... at least from what he could tell. They just... crumpled on themselves where they were standing. At least the others possessed some desire to live, rather then just lay down and welcome death.

The last group was the rarest... and right now the one that Konrad barked orders at to fall in with himself and the rest of the marines; Those who were somehow keeping it together... somewhat. The terror that had caused this madness and was trying to sink into himself and the rest of his squad was still present and gripped even the hardest of them with fear, but they were still coherent and able to respond to his direct order. Of the fifty nine auxiliaries, only five were were still 'combat viable' in his mind... discounting the gunners who had entered some kind of insane shooting frenzy.

Beams of volkite rounds were also being fired into the encouraging tide of nightmares and shadows but unlike the mad spraying of bullets that the maddened auxiliaries were favoring, the marines were using a more controlled, coordinated approach. The beams didn't seem to harm the shadow entities directly but it appears that the brief flashes of light and heat were slowing down their terrible advance... if only briefly.

As the tide of darkness came crashing in at last, things got... weird. Deadly, but weird. How does one describe the sounds of inhuman whispers on the edge of hearing, accompanied by the terror of screams both imaginary and horribly real that truly captured the assault on the senses? Of the sense that no matter what direction you were facing you could see dozens of bright, lifeless and predatory eyes that were locked onto their prey and were just savoring the moment before rushing in to sink in their teeth?

To swing at a foe that was trying to strike at one of his battle brothers, hear the roar of the chain as it connected with a shadowy limb as his axe proceeded to shred it as if it were flesh and blood... only for the arm to complete the swing as normal, disconnected from its body completely with a shredded mess on both sides of the limb as claw like fingers punched through chest armor like it wasn't there. To know in your gut that in this place, the rules of reality were not working as intended and you were going to die painfully because of it... but planning to go down swinging anyway because even when facing off against an impossible foe, the idea of laying down and dying was somehow worse then simply being killed.

The words to truly convey those sensations to another simply didn't exist. Not that Konrad expected to be able to ever try.

Then there was suddenly light.

The darkness was pushed back, allowing Konrad to see again... through the light brought more then mere ease of sight with it. One of the attackers, caught outside of the shadows as he had swung his axe towards it, let out an inhuman noise of terror and pain as the axe tore it asunder and the being... disintegrated was the only real word that captured the wholeness of its destruction. It simply ceased to be.

The light didn't cover the whole room... merely a dome that had pushed back the darkness and caught a number of the inky, shadowy attackers in all variety of shapes and sizes in its glow. A flash of a glace backwards revealed the source of the light to have been one of the auxiliaries: A woman whose body had seemingly been infused with moth like features which included a pair of moth like wings, a large amount of surprisingly soft looking white fluff that grew out of most of her body and a second pair of arms that grow slightly lower on her torso. Her eyes were closed, clearly focusing as the warm, bright glow imitated from her body, creating the dome around them.

The shadow creatures themselves were not handling the light well; The more traditional 'shadows' that had been moving along the floor had been outright burned away, disappearing completely to the light alone. The ones with third dimensions were enduring it a bit better, but they seemed to be trying to shield what amounted to 'eyes' as something smoke-like seemed to rise from their bodies. Some were simply too overcome by what Konrad could only consider to be shock from being blinded and in pain to really do anything, while others were actively trying to blindly skitter back towards the darkness and out of the light.

There was no quarter or mercy given as Konrad's chainaxe roared and he descended upon the currently hapless monsters, seizing the opportunity to make the deathless die. He did not do so alone.

Of the battle brothers he had started with, he could only see Tragios and Zygane were still standing and able to fight; Two more laid on the ground, clearly dead from a variety of horrific wounds from all sides. The other two were unaccounted for, likely somewhere in the darkness.

Surprisingly, including the moth woman, two of the Auxiliaries were still alive as well... through in fairly bad condition. A young man with a somewhat equine face and hooves for feet with what could only be called a unicorn horn sticking out of his forehead and a young woman with goat horns and somewhat mossy skin... both of whom were covered in claw marks, bite marks and what appeared to be attempts to pry their skin off in chunks.

The 'unicorn' had suffered the worst of the two of them. Konrad wasn't trained in medicine and he had only had a glance, but even if untrained eye could tell that the situation wasn't great; Most of the damage had been inflicted on both of his arms and considering all the fingers and arm chunks that were now missing from each, Konrad couldn't blame him in the slightest for not being able to fight anymore.

The mossy goat girl was still physically able to shoot her gun, through the moment she tried there was a jarring sound of an autogun jamming. Since her companion couldn't currently use his, she grabbed it and despite the pain she was in, actually took the time to aim her shots before firing. Singular bullet holes weren't enough to actually kill the shadow entities, through the wounds seemed to start filling with light and thus caused far greater injury then simple bullet holes normally would.

Within a manner of seconds, the dome was cleared out of hostiles. New ones didn't seem inclined to try and enter it, but the moment seemed more like a reprieve rather than an end of the storm. Gesturing towards Tragios and Zygane to form a triangle around the moth woman that was the source of the dome that had saved their lives, Konrad fell into position himself as he not only tried to focus on the perimeter, but also consider the facts of their situation while ignoring the suppressed, but clearly pained noises that were coming from the surviving auxiliaries. He couldn't do anything about their injuries at the moment and he needed to focus to try and get them out of the situation alive.

The moth girl was clearly some kind of witch. He didn't know enough about witchcraft or whatever powers they generally used to know what kind or what to expect really, but she was actively trying to save them from whatever abomination it was that was outside of the dome so as far as he was concerned she was a good one and worth keeping. A quick glance in her direction suggested that not only was she deep in concentration... but also struggling rather badly; All the thing outside needed to do was maintain pressure and sooner or later it would win whatever battle of wills was taking place. Staying here was not an option.

Maintaining the dome seemed to be taking all of her attention and energy and thus wasn't likely to be able to move under her own power. He didn't know enough about this magical stuff to know if moving her would also move the dome with her... or if touching her at all would break her concentration and get them all killed...

And yet, what other options did they have?

If they stayed still they were dead. If they tried to move her one of three things would happen:

1) They accidentally messed up whatever spell she was doing and they died. Either because of the magic or the things lurking in the darkness.

2) The dome doesn't move with her as the center, in which case they were kind of stuck and moving her was meaningless.

3) They could move her and thus they could walk her towards the wreckage at either side of the hallway. Not only might this remove a direction that the things could be bombarding the dome from and thus take some pressure off of her, but it maybe a passage out had been made as well?

It was a gamble, but it was merely a desperate situation rather then outright suicide.

"Tragios. I need you to carefully pick up the moth woman and start carrying her. I need you to be gentle with her because we'll all die if you're too rough." He stressed, before glancing at the two auxiliaries. "I know you're both in a lot of pain right now, but me and Zygane are going to be covering you, Tragios and moth woman as we all slowly make our way towards an exit. You're going to have to walk there."

There was some grumbling and pained noises, but even as he maintained his vigilance on the edges of the dome Konrad could see that the two auxiliaries were bringing themselves to their feet and leaning on each other for support while Tragios carefully pulled out of his spot in the triangle while Zygane and himself shifted to make up the difference. It was almost comical, watching as a giant of a man placed his hands on the much smaller moth woman's sides in order to pick her up like she was a fragile piece of pottery, but considering that the barrier was still up and her feet were no longer on the ground, Tragios was at least taking the job deathly seriously.

"Alright. On my mark we move. Slow and steady Tragios, we're not leaving anyone behind and you're carrying vital cargo. Mark."

Their movements were slow and steady... and also somewhat uneventful. The darkness and the entities lurking within it continued to maintain pressure at the edges of the light... and Konrad knew he could make out several shapes just lurking outside of the point between light and darkness, but it seemed like the entities weren't inclined to try anything more direct then to wait for the dome and its creator to falter.

Konrad had seem behavior like this in a variety of predators of all shapes and sizes... his former gang amongst them at times. Whatever these things were, they were ambush predators; They had masterfully set up a situation in which they had every possible advantage before they sprung the trap, including being practically invincible while attacking... and they had run into a situation in which those advantages were negated.

It was possible that their reluctance to attack was born of cowardice. After all, if you believed yourself immortal and immune to pain encountering an enemy that can make both of those things untrue must have been terrifying on some level. It could have also been from pragmatism; The price paid to assault the dome in order to kill the remaining survivors of its trap might simply outweigh the rewards of actually doing so. They were watching to see if the dome of light faltered on its own, but if they was going to simply cut their losses so be it.

For a flicker of a moment Konrad considered the possibility of using the dome to try and expose some of the entities in order to directly attack them. Turn a withdrawal into a charge. But he dismissed it easily enough; They weren't moving fast enough to realistically catch any of them and this situation was miraculous as it was... and like such things, if you pushed it too far it would disappear.

In time they did find the wreckage that made up the blockade of their exit. It took a little bit of a walk but an opening had been curved out and lit up by their fellow legionaries on the other side. Slipping through was a one by one affair, with Konrad making sure that he was the last one to carefully withdraw, facing the darkness as he did so.

For a moment, the void stared back. In the darkness he could make out the facial features of the horrific equine creature that had started the ambush off, glaring back at him with clear irritation in its bright white, monstrous eyes. Konrad swore that he saw what looked like chainsaw wounds on its cheek, but the inky blackness was already reforming it. Then... with what could only be considered a dismissive huff, it pulled back into the darkness and disappeared.

With its disappearance, the blackness of the literal kill-box seemed to lose whatever property that allowed it to block out normal light; Torchlight from both sides started to cast it back like normal. Soon the whole 'room' was lit up once more as the march needed to continue through it... even if those doing so were a bit more concerned while making the crossing.

Disturbingly, there was almost no evidence that anything had happened in that section of hallway outside of the twin piles of wreckage that had blocked it off from passage temporally. Bodies, blood, equipment... all of it was gone. All that remained were bullet holes and scorch marks on the walls and floor.

From Ashes We Rise: The Galaxy At Large

Pentious

Rik had always been intelligent. Even in the early days when he had been little more then a burned, mangled babe he had always been a quick leaner. Concepts and ideas that would have taken a normal person decades to properly understand, he seemed to get instinctively. In the event he didn't, he was a remarkably quick study. When his adopted mother had taken the time to sit down and talk to him about it, Rik's description of what he experienced with these 'flashes' of knowledge pointed to a method of information imprinting of a scale as legendary as the genetic engineering that had been employed in his creation.

It was not, however, perfect. The information was present in Rik's mind to be drawn upon but that didn't bring understanding; The information was more or less in a vacuum without context. It was honestly one of the reasons why he valued the teachings of his mentors and teachers so much because while the information might not have been new, the understanding of it and the context in which it could be employed was of vital importance to him.

It was something of fair exchange, since where Rik gained better understanding of himself, his mentors and homeworld gained access to the knowledge stored inside of him. While historically such prized knowledge would have been horded by the higher ranked members of the Pentious, their near destruction at the hands of the orks and Rik's own habit of freely sharing the knowledge he could access to just about anyone who wanted it had caused something of a cultural shift.

The risk of knowledge or know how being lost due to a single specialist dying had been judged too great in the years before Rik's arrival, but the sudden flood he caused of new information and knowledge had cemented the shift. There were still restrictions in place; Secrets that needed to be kept because to properly appreciate and respect the dangers and methods of those rites and practices required a strong foundation of understanding and study of the topic. The lack of which would almost certainly result in a lot of needless death and destruction.

But with the exception of the restrictions put in place for experience and understanding of the subject, everyone more or less had access to everything that wasn't restricted for one reason or another. Anyone who wished to gain access to a restricted topic could study and prove themselves trustworthy not to kill themselves and everyone around them to be granted access to their respective field. It also had an interesting side effect in that, by granting everyone access to all the information they needed those more driven, talented or insightful tended to stand out among their peers and rise up in the ranks.

Outright physical experimentation was restricted, but theoretical experimentation wasn't: Anyone of any level of rank or experience could work on developing theoretical adjustments to existing blueprints or designs in order to make them work more efficiently or better suited to certain tasks or conditions and submit them for review. If the idea is not on record for having been attempted before and was found to be theoretically sound by several more experienced members of the machine cult, the new design would be physically constructed and tested by the recently created Experimental Development Department.

The EDD was vital in its testing of the theoretical in order to see if it could translate into the practically physical. Most ideas that made it to the Department fail to leave it for one of three reasons:

1. The new design, for whatever reason, simply doesn't operate or suffers a flaw that makes it worse then the original. Several items of the new design are built for the purpose of making sure a failure to operate isn't just a fault in the construction of the prototype and is purely an issue with the design itself.

2. The new design doesn't outperform the original in the manner that it was theorized to.

3. The new design is simply to expensive for the benefit it might give. This category covers times and resources used in not only construction, but repair and maintenance as well.

Despite the fact that most of the experiments fail, having an idea reach that stage in the first place is considered something of a feather in the cap of those Mechanicum members who do so. Even a failed idea furthered the quest for knowledge because it helps give a greater understanding as to why the original designs are the way they are. It also served as an unofficial way for lower ranked members of the cult to showcase that their knowledge and talents were at a point where they would benefit from having access to a higher tier of information and resources.

Everyone had to submit their ideas for review and all the prototypes needed to be made within the Experimental Development Department... through exactly who was making the prototypes was a bit more open to interpretation.

.....................................................................

GC-118's appointment as a Magos had always had a degree of friction to it among the more elder members of Pentious, largely because of how young she was when she was granted the rank. For the most part she didn't really mind since her observations and calculations both rational and emotional she dedicated on the matter revealed that the majority of their disquiet about her appointment had nothing to do with her personally at all; They were remembering the peers, friends and sometimes more that had been been torn out of the orderly mechanism of their lives by the uncaring, easily entertained hands of the greenskin tides and finding the replacement to not to live up to their nostalgia of what once was.

Well, apart from Magos YS-530. She was just a bitch to everyone.

Still, she rather enjoyed her work in the Experimental Development Department. In her mind she couldn't help but picture herself akin to the Explorators who had originally set out from Mars, striving to uncover the lost knowledge of mankind! In fact, it made her feel closer to those who came before during the height of Humanity, before the Age of Strife and the loss of so much in its chaos. With each project she got to work on, success or failure... she could better understand why they made the decisions they did and thus, better understand the nature of the machine spirits and their physical shells.

It also had the wonderful benefit that she got to work alongside Myrmidon Uixien occasionally. For example, the two of them were currently working on two different parts of a pair of experiments that he had put forward himself: Designs that would, in theory at least, alter the armor and implants of the various Vanguard units so that they would be better suited to protecting their wearers from the side effects of the radiation of their own Rad weapons by a considerable degree and giving the average Vanguard additional years, if not decades of life to live.

There were two different experiments put forward because they were designed around different ideas: The one she was currently working on bringing to life was a serious of redesigns on the currently active Vanguard technology, improving the systems and designs currently in use and allowing active Vanguards to be cycled off of combat duty for a time to be upgraded.

The one Uixien was working on was a complete redesign from the ground up.

Where GC-118's work might, if the prototypes proved promising and the engineering, construction and logistical challenges didn't doom it to be lesser then the original design, be used to upgrade the hardware and implants of the currently serving Vanguards of Pentious, the Myrmdon was actively working on a design that would replace them in generations to come.

Taking the lessons and knowledge of the original Vanguard armor and implant designs, the battlefield data connected to them for good and ill... and designing something without having to worry about upgrading or working around what was already in place in order to create something that would give the average Vanguard solder a fighting chance of dying of natural causes unrelated to radiation poisoning. It would be an absolute evolution of the technology and would cement its creators place in history... but knowing Uixien like she did, that wasn't why he was doing it.

GC-118 wasn't the sort to let her thoughts distract her from her professionalism or her work, but she was a girl of simple pleasures and the means to achieve them. There was a mental vault that she kept separate from her primary one that was linked up to the optic sensor that she was using to observe Myrmdon Uixien as he worked while also containing the various emotions the sight made her experience. It also allowed her to see the interesting servo-skull that was hovering about him, seemingly made of a broken skull that had been put back together with... gold? It was strangely beautiful, through she was sure that there were those who would consider it wasteful.

When she finally decided to speak up, her emotions were easy to read, despite her instinctive desire to hide them. "[Bashful Query:] Myrmdon Uixien, may I make an attempt at understanding the circuity of your brain and how it processes thought?"

Neither of them stopped working: They were both professional and rather talented at multitasking when it was called for after all, but GC-118 couldn't help but notice that it took Uixien an extra moment to respond to her when he answered "If you wish to make a hypothesis about how my mind works, you are welcome to try. I will respond with total honesty."

The ball now back firmly in her court, GC-118 took a few seconds to review what she wanted to say in order to see if it needed to be corrected or refined in any way before being put out into the world. "[Probing statement:]You could have very easily turned all your attention towards the prototype you are working on... yet you still made the point of putting together something to upgrade the current generation of Vanguards in order to reduce the upon of damage that their own weapons cause them, despite the fact that future Vanguards would be equipped with greater resistance to radiation from the start then the current generation will ever have."

"[Questioning confession:]Some of my processes and calculations suggest that the reason behind this is that you are not blind to the suffering of others and you are actively trying to reduce it to a level you find closer to acceptable. [Tentative Admiration:] I believe there is truth to this... but that it is not your only driving motive." Something happened that GC-118 had not been expecting to happen: She saw Uixien pause in his work when she concluded that he had more motives to his work. She had never seen him pause like this before.

"The acceptable level of suffering, despite what some of our peers might believe Magos GC-118, is suffering = 0. However, since we do not live in a perfect world, we can only get as close as we can. You are correct in that assessment... but I admit I am curious as to what other motive you believe my work has." Turning from the processing machines he had been working on, GC-118 saw a biological eye focused on her as he waited with curiosity, giving her a great deal of his undivided attention.

Ignoring the way that her heart was beating... and the machinery around it was working slightly overtime to regulate it, GC-118 took a deep, multi-filtered breath. "[Deductive Reasoning:] Two grander motives come to mind. The first is that you simply wished for the fame and recognition that would come with submitting two designs at once and having them be successful... [Dismissal:] However, from what I have observed of you, political ambition and fame are not primary driving forces for any of your actions."

"[Deeper Deduction:] The second option is that you are planning for a time post-orks on Pentious. Something to trade with other Forge Worlds we might come across in the galaxy. [Reconsideration:] No... You wouldn't trade something like the upgrades for the base Vanguard design because hording it to yourself would cause needless suffering. [Realization:] You would give that information for free in order to develop good will with other Forge Worlds... while keeping the more advanced Vanguard designs as an ace if the Forge World proved untrustworthy and to have something to offer them in the future if relations improve." There was a moment of silence as she watched him watching her... and a small smile starting to dawn on his face that made her feel warm.

"It would appear that my machinations are transparent to you, Magos GC-118. I admit that I have always found your habit of trying to understand how I think and see the world rather then just asking me to be rather quaint." He paused... before he asked a question that would change the course of history. "Maybe we could spend some time together when we both have a free meal time and talk in a slightly less professional manner then normal?"

"[EMOTIONAL PROCESSING ERROR! EMO5$*%AL PRO&#SS*ING ERR#R! Emotional Reboot in 3... 2...1...]" GC-118 stood stock still as the glow of her optics flared bright, then suddenly dimmed before her body seemed to relax a little. "[Completely Normal & Calm Response:] I would like that very much. We can compare schedules after we are done here Myrmdon Uixien."

"Wonderful. And please, call me Rik."

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

The 8th Unleashed

The Mercia Front

The Pan-Pacific Empire's original invasion of Mercia was something of an overwhelming success by the standards of the warlord era of Age of Strife Terra. If not for the existence of the Imperium and its various successes of the period, Pan-Pacific may have become the dominate power of Terra, rather then just one of its major ones.

When Mercia called for aid from the Imperium, the Lord of Lighting was quick to answer. All branches of the Imperium armed forces found themselves being developed towards the new territory, keen on driving out the invaders in order to claim the land and its people as its own.

Of all the Imperial forces to take the field during this campaign, few were as dedicated to its success in as bloodless a manner as the newly minted 8th Legion. The reason for this was two fold. The original members of the 8th legion were recruited from the region; The hives being fought for were once their homes and were homes of people they knew and leaving them to be inhabited by invaders was simply not to be tolerated.

Those marines not motivated by loyalties to their original hives or the people that stilled lived within them were instead driven by more personal motivations; Due to experimentation and testing, it was found that of all the populations of Terra, the people of Mercia's proved to be the most compatible with the 8th legion with a success rate of six for every ten candidates to undergone the process of becoming marines. Having this territory held by enemy forces cut the legion off from its ideal recruitment stock and this, risk the legion being laid low by attrition.

With the future of the Legion on the line, this also heavily affected the tactics, plans and weaponry that the 8th made use of. Since the Legion needed the population to survive being brought into the Imperium relatively intact, battle plans needed to minimize the possible amount of collateral damage to the civilian population. The infrastructure of the Hives remaining intact was also of vital importance, both in the sense of making immediate use of said recaptured Hive for Imperial purposes and sustaining the population of the Hive.

As the Thunder Warriors engaged the forces of the Pan-Pacific Empire in order to draw their forces into a quagmire conflict in what were deemed to be regions of minimum value to long term Imperial interests, the 8th Legion and their auxiliaries instead opted for stealth operations. Taking advantage of the knowledge of those marines that originally came from nomad tribes both for their personal knowledge of how to safely travel in the wastes between the Hives undetected and their preexisting contacts and connections to other nomad tribes in order to ally with them and bluster their numbers with local guides and experts, the 8th were able to get far behind combat lines.

Their plan was a bold one with a great deal of risk involved. Their plan was to take advantage of the collective knowledge of the Legion about their respective home hives in order to take advantage of openings and passageways that were often made use of to bypass what amounted to the enforcers of law and order of the Hive in order to infiltrate them and bypass the majority of the Hives defenses against invasion. They would then take advantage of local unrest, knowledge of the internals of the Hive in question and the hope that local Pan-Pacific forces were reduced by a need to fight the Imperium elsewhere to liberate the hive from within with as little bloodshed and open battle as possible.

The true ambition of the plan came from the fact that they intended to split the Legion and its forces up in order to overthrow numerous hives at once. On paper, the plan could be viewed as near madness: The 8th legion had a core fighting strength of less then nine hundred warriors, supplemented by local nomads and barely human auxiliaries that were given army equipment and training as solders. However, behind the scenes there was a lot more calculation and intelligence then might first appear.

While having the entire legion focus on one hive at a time was fully possible, it was felt that the Pan-Pacific Empire would not only launch counter attacks against the few liberated hives in a calm, collected manner but also start to figure out how the 8th were infiltrating the Hives and actively start attempting to patch the long forgotten or ignored gaps in their defenses going forward. By striking so many targets at once (the number of which was calculated by the need for enough forces to take each hive and then hold it until reinforcements from the Imperium could arrive), not only would it minimize the ability of the Pan-Pacific to work out the details of how, but the loss of so much territory at once was hoped to throw the Pan-Pacific and their command into full blown panic.

-Remembrancer Zygena Ravenlow, attached to the 8th Legion.

.................................

To say that things were tense between Jzzist and Giselwin would have been something of an understatement...

Legion Master Scraphurst had made good on his threat. The pair had been taken aside and made to fight each other bare knuckled and naked. Again... and again... and again. Until one or both of them were unable to continue, in which they were giving medical attention to get them back in something close to fighting shape and then made to fight anew. They weren't allowed to kill each other and there were people present to make sure they didn't... but it kept going until, at last... they simply found themselves not caring enough to keep beating each other up anymore.

The grudge between them from their mortal human days was effectively no more, all the anger and bitterness used as fuel for their extended fight until it, at long last, was simply used up. Neither of them had actually expected to ever be at this point and yet, here they were. Assigned together to lead the operation against their home hive, unsure of how to interact with each other outside of a professional manner at this point because they didn't know where to go from here.

'Here' in the more literal sense was an old, abandoned ruin. A thick, strong wall that was built eons ago that still managed to stand despite all the years of neglect and weather, the purpose of its original existence long forgotten since it stood alone in the wastes of Mercia as everything else that had been built with it had long been consumed by time. It served as a wonderful foothold in the region, since it's presence offered some degree of shelter from the winds, a recognizable landmark for the purposes of navigation and it was far enough away from Hive Houston that the local Pan-Pacific garrison wouldn't care to come out far enough to investigate it without something to merit the patrol but close enough to allow scouting parties to leave and return.

That was another source of tension among the marines currently stationed there: The Scouts. Jzzist and Giselwin had both agreed that it was a good idea to send scouts out to confirm if the various smuggling routes and hidden ways into Hive Houston that their various sources of information were still open or undiscovered by the occupying army before committing to an infiltration route. The mutant auxiliaries were something of a dividing issue between the marines, but due to the orders from the Legion Master on the matter it had been kept quite between them...

However, with the mutants and their nomad guides gone to serve as scouts on the grounds that armed nomads or mutants existing on the outskirts of a Hive or trying to get into or out of the Underhive being spotted by any of the defending garrison keeping an eye on the outside of the hive would simply be a natural occurrence unworthy of reporting, differences in opinion could be vocalized.

There wasn't any fighting on the matter; Even if they were in camp and at 'ease' until the scouts returned, they were still in the field in hostile territory and anyone who wasted their energy or endangered their camp by fighting (either verbally or physically) was going to discover that the chain of command was a very literally chain that they would be savagely beaten with to an inch of their lives. Which both Jzzist and Giselwin knew from personal experience was going to take a while.

The marines largely fell somewhere on a spectrum when it came to working alongside their mutant auxiliaries. On the end of the spectrum that was perfectly content with working with them and actually valued them as people were Hans Sternheim and Oronice Stinkgard, both former members of Jzzist's gang who followed their leader still in their new lives. On the opposite end were Ratibor Ratwick, Mauger Lichtensten and Galen Kruges... all of whom were originally members of Giselwin's crew. Everyone else feel somewhere in between the two extremes, with the third 'neutral' party attracting those who didn't really care what form their auxiliaries took, as long as they were competent and could be trusted.

By mutual agreement, Jzzist and Giselwin opted out of taking part in the discussion, making it clear that as long as everyone obeyed the official legion doctrine as handed down by Legion Marster Scraphurst they could have whatever personal feelings they wished and instead served as unofficial refs to make sure that things didn't get out of hand.

The conversation ceased the moment the lookouts spied the first of the scouts start to return in their groups. The picture that was painted as they started to return was a grim one; Most of the teams came back with fewer numbers. Some teams didn't report back at all. Each returning scouting party brought with them news of various Pan-Pacific defenders having actively gone through the process of discovering and closing off the various routes they were scouting, actively shooting at anything that got within range of their guns or triggering traps and ambushes.

A brief war council was held as a very important question was raised by Giselwin. "Is it possible the enemy caught wind of our plans already?"

Surprisingly, one of the human nomad guides shook his head and spoke up "Doubtful. When the Pan-Pacific marched on the Hive, they actively broke into the underhive from a number of the more well known hidden entrances. If I had to guess, the new ruler of the Hive is just paranoid that someone will repeat their great achievement against them."

"That would explain the older dead bodies reported." Hans spoke up, glancing around at the rest of the council "Seems like they're paranoid about anyone trying to get into the hive via any method but the official gates. I don't think the plan is bust, but what options of entry do we have?"

Once they went through the list and crossed off those confirmed to be discovered and sealed off... and making the logical assumption that any route that the scouting team failed to return at all from wasn't viable either, the list consisted of a single entryway.

Speaking up for the first time after the council was called, Jzzist asked the leader of that scouting team "This path wasn't sealed?"

A head with three eyes nodded before answering "It wasn't. In fact, the patrols seemed to outright be avoiding the area. We would have investigated further but we decided reporting back was more important."

The news caused... something of a look to pass between the Jzzist and Giselwin camps. Jzzist, Hans and Oronice seemed rather amused, while Ratibor and Galen seemed nervous. Giselwin himself seemed to grow quite pale. Mauger looked ill at ease, but clearly not as affected as his companions.

"Wise decision." Jzzist offered to the mutant... even going so far as to give them a smile. "I am very familiar with that passageway. The reason they haven't sealed it off and avoid it is because they're pretty sure anyone who uses it isn't going to be seen again. If you had used it blindly, they would have been right. But-"

Before Jzzist could say anymore, Giselwin spoke up in a voice that sounded loud at first, but quickly had the emotion reigned in. "NO. There has got to be another way. Any other way but that one. Maybe one of the scouting parties simply got taken by a threat from the wastes and we should check again."

Seeing one of their leaders show actual fear about this possibly caused the unease to spread among the unit, but Jzzist's resolve seemed to combat the panic. "As I was saying. Having lived in the area it leads to for years, I know how we can safely travel on the other side." He paused, before he decided to say something in an understanding tone of voice that surprised Giselwin to his core. "...I don't blame you for being afraid. I don't know exactly what you and yours fell prey to when you invaded all those years ago, but when we saw the aftermath we knew it was one of the nastier bastards lurking in the dark. Running into one of them changes a person and I never thought less of you for losing your mind. But I promise you, I can get us through that area safely."

With a slight gulp, Konrad Amutiel decided to speak up and be heard by his fellow marines. "What are you talking about?"

After a moment of silence between Jzzist and Giselwin, Giselwin looked away in order to let Jzzist speak freely. Taking charge, Jzzist turned and looked dead serious at Konrad as he answered "I am going to tell every last one of you some very important rules that you need to adhere to, because your lives will depend on following them to the letter where we are going, because we're walking into a ghost story."

The Secret Lives Of Schoolteachers - A Magical Girl Mix-up RP

It was hard to define what was going through Andrew's head as Lux started to 'heroically' lead the way towards the stage at the edge of the festival. He followed because it seemed like the direction that needed to be traveled, alongside the fact that at least Kohaku was also heading that way.

Seeing the student and the 'wraith' on stage together through... Something clicked in Andrew's head. It didn't click immediately, but as he had more of a chance to take in more of the body of the Wraith and listened to what it had to see... it was like puzzle pieces had just slipped into place. He didn't know this boy since he wasn't in his class, didn't know his history or family... and yet in this moment he could already tell what kind of person he must be like and the struggles that plagued him.

As someone who actively followed anime and media which actively explored mental concepts, this situation was surprisingly understandable to him. But what cemented it was a poem that he remembered listening to on the internet on a day that he needed a bit of encouragement that had stuck with him.

Stepping forward, the hatchet remained in his hand but it was held in a non-threatening manner. Something to be used if things went south but he wanted to try talking first. "...You're the one that... Watanabe?..." He might have glanced towards his fellow teachers turned magical girls to make sure he was getting the name right before rallying "Watanabe sees in the mirror, aren't you? The voice that tells him that he is taking on way to much responsibility, work and stress but whom he doesn't listen to because he is terrified of disappointing others."

Taking a moment to see how the entity or the boy connected to it reacted to being talked to and acknowledged, Andrew decided to continued "I'm Mr Brown. You might not know me that well because you're not in my class. But if you're willing to let me, I can help both of you to ease the weight that is choking the life out of you. Because that is what this whole situation is right now; Self destruction." He took a quick breath before finishing "...Because as amazing as it must feel to destroy something at long last... the weight is still there, isn't it?"

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

The Second Council of the 8th Legion : An Abnormal Issue

The first proper 'meeting' of the leadership of the 8th legion took place within the confines of their barracks. The rest of the legion were being put through various drills and training exercises in order to try and foster a sense of unity and teamwork within the legion itself and it provided a rare opportunity for a relatively private discussion to take place.

Nine individuals had created something of a makeshift nonagon out of footlockers, foregoing the search for furniture that could actually hold their new found bulk in the process. Each wore a loin cloth, for none of them had yet to be granted anything even close to fitting 'civilian' attire... and it provided an unspoken sense of security. None of them had anything to hide and their seating ensured that all members could see the others easily enough. Old habits died hard after all.

The leader of this meeting, the Legion Master Pho Scraphurst, sat at the 'head' of the nonagon. Compared to his newfound brothers, Pho was a little bit shorter then the average and seemed to have originally been of a narrower frame of body that transferred over with the ascension. His footlocker seat was groaning a bit more then those of his peers whenever he shifted or moved, even as he looked over his subordinates with somewhat small brown eyes. His light brown skin showed the signs of heavy modification and scarring that all of them shared, through if it was from the process that turned them into super solders or before then was unclear. While shaved of his hair, blond hair was slowly growing back.

Going clockwise sat second in command Gallianus Vaarars. Also light brown in skin tone, the hair that was starting to grow on his head was a reddish coloration instead. Somewhat narrow in body himself, Gallianus was a bit taller then the average member of the legion and seemed to have a weight that properly matched his height. Small green eyes gazed out at the group, but whenever it turned towards Pho they seemed to narrow slightly.

Next was Catiel Ulstrecht. Shorter then the legion master, Catiel likewise seemed to share the burden of additional weight that filled out a more average build of body. Pale skinned with large grey eyes, what little of Catiel's hair that had started to regrow was a graying blond.

Roccex Al-Sharqawa was also on the taller side of the scale, through he seemed to be somewhat lighter on his feet then most. His skin was a medium brown which made his large green eyes stand out all the more. Auburn hair was starting to regrow on his head.

Jzzist Al-Allal was one of the shortest of those gathered, seemingly tied with only one other. Despite this, he was fairly muscular and board shouldered. Pale skinned with graying platinum blond hair, his average sized brown eyes tended to focus on one member of the circle more then others.

Valok Lichtenvind's light brown skin actually stood out among his peers in that the possible damage that had been done to it prior to the genetic modifications was somewhat different in nature. As the only member of the leadership circle that came from the nomad tribes rather then the hive gangs, this made a degree of sense. Quite muscular himself, Valok was closer to the average in both height and build. Small grey eyes looked out under regrowing greying golden-blond hair.

Giselwin Josch was the other contender for shortest of the group, broad shouldered and a bit pudgy. His grey hair was growing back a bit faster then the others, making his the 'longest' in the legion at the moment. Light brown in skin color, his average sized dark brown eyes focused on Jzzist more often then not... and whenever it did, muttering under his breath would start.

Elias Loffenbjorn was one of the tallest of the group... the fact that he was sitting next to one of the shortest only made him seem taller. Narrow and quite thin by marine standards, his pale skin makes both his brown hair and small, dark brown eyes stand out all the more.

Qvoro Muckstead rivaled Elias in height, and being next to the somewhat shorter Pho also had the ability to make him appear somewhat taller then he actually was... through not to the same extent as Giselwin and Elias. Narrow shouldered but fairly muscular, sitting next to Elias made Qvoro's very dark brown skin seem all the darker. Somewhat small hazel eyes looked around as brown hair was regrowing on his head.

With a sudden slamming of his foot against the ground, Legion Master Scraphurst brought all attention to him and brought a sudden end to the mutter in the background. Waiting until he was sure he had everyone's eyes on him, Pho finely started speaking in a calm, confident tone of voice. "Since time is a factor before the exercises reach a point where we are needed to personally be present, we shall skip the pleasantries and get to the heart of the matter. I have been approached by several parties, some of whom are in this room, in regards to issues with our auxiliary forces. The issues and goals of these parties are contradictory."

"Clearly a decision needs to be made on the matter and I am the one to make it..." He paused for a moment to bask before he continued sharply afterwards "However, I will not be known as a man who makes uninformed, reckless decisions. Since each of you represent your respective parts of the legion and know those who make up your hundred or so marines better on an individual level then I do, I am going to let you make the case that you believe best captures the spirit of your piece of the legion and we shall humbly strive to come to the best answer possible for us as a whole."

"Let us start with the more popular issue of the day. A number of our former gang members were not suitable for induction into the legions, be it our own or those dedicated to female marines and thus joined our auxiliary forces instead. This has been quite a divisive issue, since I have heard demands ranging from treating them with greater respect to purging them all from our ranks completely. The floor is now open to any who wishes to speak."

For a couple of seconds there was a chaotic mess of noise as several people tried to talk at once. It grew slightly less so as some of them realized that others were trying to talk at the same time and opted to wait rather then waste their breath. It feel silent completely when the foot came down and the stamp was loud enough to make everyone shut up. Pho for his part looked around at everyone present before pointing towards Roccex and saying "You first."

Offering a small nod as he rose to his feet, Roccex looked at his peers with a judgemental eye before spitting "Why is this even a matter of discussion? They are inhuman abominations that are a plague on this world. An insult to humanity by their mere existence, all they do is wallow in their own filth when they're not raiding and pillaging their betters or raping human women. The fact that there are those among our ranks that seem to tolerate these vile things is disgusting, but once they've been cleared out and some proper human auxiliaries replace them I can guarantee you'll never entertain this madness again."

The uproar that followed was somewhat loud, with individual words or statements lost to the chaos. However, with a gesture from Pho Reccex retook his seat before the legion master turned towards Qvoro and gestured for him to stand up and be heard.

Qvoro waited until there was silence before he started to speak. "This is a matter of discussion because if we let you have your way, you would have done something stupid without thinking about it Reccex." As the uproar threatened to start up again, not the least of which was Reccex raising to his feet again, Pho's foot stamped the ground again to cut it off and demand silence.

"If you can't show enough respect to your brothers in arms to be civil, you will be excused from this council and ordered to fight each other until all bad blood has been shed and the matter settled for good. Am I understood?!" Pho growled, daring anyone to object.

As ruffled feathers started to settle, Qvoro made the point of saying "Forgive me Legion Master. I will stay on point." With a gesture from Pho to continue, Qvoro refocused on his peers. "Mutants, abhumans... whatever you call them, all of them are treated poorly and often reviled by... well, everyone really. They can't even find peace among their own numbers since they generally get forced into the worst conditions, doing the most dangerous types of work and having to fight each other to survive."

While one might think that such words would come with empathy, Qvoro's tone was that of a man stating a fact. "Someone has to do those jobs and be crushed underfoot, but this provides us with an opportunity. When you treat these people with kindness, respect and even loyalty, they will zealously dedicate themselves to you and your cause with a determination that you just can't train into people easily. Yes we might have to train them a bit to give them better discipline and weapon skills, but in return we would get auxiliaries that will succeed at whatever task they are given or die trying because who else would treat them with even half the kindness and respect we could?"

Before Qvoro could be possibly answered, Catiel actually stood up and asked both Qvoro and the legion master "If I may add some more to Qvoro's argument?" After Qvoro respectfully nodded his head in consent to Catiel taking the floor and Pho acknowledged the change in speaker, Catiel continued "Qvoro is correct in his assessment, but I believe the situation would actually be more beneficial then he realizes. Most nations hate those who deviate from baseline humanity, the Imperium included. Having a reputation for a positive relationship with the mutant and the abhuman means that they would naturally flock to us since we can provide basic things like food and respect that others won't. Not only would we have a near endless reserve for our auxiliary forces, but we would be in a position to claim the cream of the mutant crop."

"Since the other legions and military forces see mutants as little more then fodder at best, most of them will come to us directly and other imperial forces likely won't care. It would even make it quite easy to sway mutants and abhumans of other nations to work with or join us, since I don't think there is anywhere that humans hold dominion where they are not treated like shit. Spy networks, sabotage, opening hidden entrances into enemy hives... the possibilities are incredible."

"Not to mention..." Elias began, not asking for permission to speak up to the mild annoyance of Catiel "Mutants, Abhumans... a lot of them are better at some things then baseline humans. More hardy, faster, stronger... more arms for faster reloading. Perfect for specialized roles. And if they just so happen to be one of the useless fucks who is worse then a baseline human... well, we'll word it differently but we could still make use of cannon fodder. Give them some basic training and equipment at mine disarming and when we order 'em to clear a minefield, they'll do it one way or the other."

There was a mild, dark chuckle that went around several points of the nonagon. Some didn't find the joke funny, but not many.

Since there seemed to be a relaxation among who was allowed to talk, Valok spoke up next. "While I can... appreciate some of the possible benefits discussed, they are rather dependent on if the abhuman and mutant... well, can be trained. Many of them are little better then wild animals in both actions and mind. Something that could be herded and driven towards an enemy position to be sure, but discipline? The only military action they could be trusted to understand is to charge and try and kill the enemy... and even then they are likely to forget whose side they are fighting for once the blood starts flowing."

"There is a time and a place for such near mindless violence." Jzzist pointed out. "Not every battle of course, but enough that we have use of such a dedicated fighting force... and enough of a consistant cull to prevent it from growing to large."

"All I'm saying-" Valok butted back in with a small bit of heat in their voice "-is that we might be better served by a more human fighting force. Still able to channel the dark and the bloody, but also able to be trusted with more advanced operations."

"Well of course Jzzist wants a mindless tide of carnage and beasts." Giselwin muttered as he glared at his once rival. "Do you also want to fill the auxiliary with your damned witches? Bind the spirits of the dead to march upon the living?"

"Well maybe-" Jzzist sniped back with a smile on his face "-if you had bothered to hire some witches of your own before you attempt to march on my domain, you wouldn't be so afraid of the dark, Giselwin."

"YOU TWISTED SON OF A-"

The THUMP of a fist slamming down into a metal locker was loud enough that all noise in its wake as Pho rose his fist out of the dent he had made. "Jzzist, Giselwin, get out! We'll deal with you both later. Gallianus, make sure they rejoin the training exercises without killing each other on the way."

Any protest or rebuttable never came in the aftermath of Pho's roar. Gallianus glared at the legion master, but after a few moments he answered with a somewhat sulky and sarcastic "Yes sir". Without a word, Jzzist and Giselwin both rose and slowly made their ways towards the door, with Gallianus following them to make sure that they actually left and that blood wasn't spilled between them yet.

The barracks was silent until after the door was closed and all three men were gone. Then Pho spoke up again. "Having listened to all of your counsel, I have made a decision. For the foreseeable future we will not only welcome those who are not baseline human into our auxiliary forces, but will treat them with the same degree of respect and investment that we would if taking in human solders. If the benefits that are believed to be possible from the arrangement manifest then we will continue. If not... we will revisit the matter at a latter date."

Turning his head slightly more towards Roccex and Valok, Pho finished "I want this message to be understood by all members of the legion. I do not expect or order anyone in the legion to be friendly with our auxiliary forces. But I expect you all to be professional enough to be civil and respectful when they are encountered and otherwise leave them be. Any legionary that fails that basic level of self control will be punished for it. Take comfort in the fact that you will almost certainly outlive our mutant and abhuman auxiliaries by a long shot."

Watching to make sure that the message was understood, Pho rose to his feet. "Now then, since that matter is settled... onto the next."

From Ashes We Rise: The Galaxy At Large

Pentious

Recording from Servo-Skull #5342
Mission: Spying on Orkoid entities known as 'Weirdboyz'
Video: #342

The recording started innocently enough as far as orks were concerned; The Burna Boyz tribe had gathered for a feast in order to celebrate... something. Normally such celebrations were held due to some victory or a successful raid, but cross referencing with other Servo-Skulls in the area revealed that such a thing hadn't happened with this tribe. Some Analysts suggested that the celebration might have been religious in nature, through the finer details evaded them. Others held the view that the Ork simply felt like throwing a feast and did it. Neither viewpoint was important for the purposes of this recording.

The festivities were suddenly interrupted as a 'Weirdboy' from the Stonemaulz seemed to arrive unannounced. "Hey, are you guys having a party?" There was a moment of confusion among the Burna Boyz at the arrival, which allowed the strange 'weirdboy' to walk forward and look at the ground. "Wow... your floors are so clean." before his eyes went in what could only be called an empty headed, thousand yard stare, his jaw opening up as he started making a loud, low droning "Ahhhhh" noise.

The local Burna Boyz 'Weirdboy' suddenly snapped to attention, removing the blindfold they were using to play 'Put the Gretchen into the Squiq' and cried "Oh frig, it'z an ambush!"

The warboss of the tribe, rather then be angry about the situation, seemed more frustrated and annoyed as he bellowed "Oh for the love of-" before reaching up to pinch the skin between its alien eyes "-not thiz curze thing again!"

"It's okay bosz, I've been practicing!" The local 'Weirdboy' announced. "I can win thiz time!" before closing their own eyes and starting to yell "Blahhhhh!" back at the first ork. While the sight was comically stupid at first, moments after it began as the two idiots were screaming at each other, the very ground itself began to shake as greenskins braced themselves and food started to fall off the 'table'.

After a few minutes, the screaming of weirdboys subsided and the earthquake started to fade away, the Warboss crying out in anger "Damn it! What in Gorkz name did you zogzing idiotz do thiz time?!"

The weirdboy from the Stonemaulz shrugged before answering "I don't know, he messed my curse up. You guys have some really clean floors."

The ... victorious(?) weirdboy announced as they pulled the blindfold off their head completely, rather then just wearing it like a bandana "Heck yes! And now we are tied!"

"What do you mean you don't know?! What did you do?!"

"I don't-" there was a sudden flash of light that blinded the recording for a moment alongside a roar of thunder. When the video returned, several of the orks were dead, smoking from something that had killed them. Some of the dead (and a few of the alive) were actively on fire. Observation of wounds suggested that all targets had been struck by lightning. There wasn't a storm.

.......................................

Recording from Servo-Skull #9532
Mission: Observe Orkish 'Mekboys' creating orkish weaponry.
Video: #12

The workshop of the Mekboy of the Twisted Blade clan was more of a sweatshop for the smaller greenskins called Gretchen then a proper factoria, with the so called Mekboy serving the role of taskmaster. Some would be assigned to the production of screws, nails, nuts and bolts and other crude metal creations, others would be assigned to straightening out pipes or hammering out scrap metal to create clips to put bullets into. The third group would be assigned to create stocks out of whatever was on hand for the task.

The fourth group and the one that the Mekboy tended to yell at and abuse the most were the ones that had to put everything together in order to create the clan's guns. All they literally did was take the items that the other groups were producing and hammering or 'gluing' it all together in order to make something that was vaguely in the shape of a firearm.

The fact that beyond the hammering or gluing, nothing was actually connected to anything in a meaningful way meant absolutely nothing, as despite the fact that the clip was hammered into the 'barrel' without any means for the nails that were packed inside to actually leave the clip or the fact that the trigger was more or less glued on without being connected to anything close to an internal mechanism, the Mekboy was still able to pick up the abomination of metal, aimed it at a Gretchen that had been tied to a pole for the purposes of target practice and actually fired off several shots.

They then proceeded to beat the gretchen that had made the 'gun' because the sights were off, since none of the shots actually hit the target.

...........................................

Many recordings were being processed by Rik as he openly walked towards the nearby greenskin outpost. Each one an example of Orkish stupidity, cruelty or the sheer insanity of their existence. Each one making his blood boil as rage started to grow.

It was a minor orkish outpost and Rik was alone, outside of some servo-skulls that were following at a safe distance. He was unarmed and unarmored, naked from the waist up and with what implants and additions had been added to his form over time either removed or turned off... through he did leave himself with those that had a more passive effect, such as his replacement limbs or those that monitored his vitals and recording equipment.

The calculations running through his mind for the battle to come were not optimized to the task of the extermination of the outpost and there was a part of him that honestly disliked the fact that he was using plans that had improvisation as a fundamental component, but it was an important part of the test and thus, he would tolerate it.

Ever since he was able to understand the teachings of his adopted mother, he had known that his biological body was the result of genetic engineering so incredibly advanced that even now, when he ran tests and tried to uncover the mysteries of his own flesh and blood, Rik couldn't help but be reminded of the saying 'Any technology advanced enough comes across as magic to those who do not understand it'. He would have loved nothing more then to obsessively dive into the mystery of his own creation, but there was simply too much that needed to be done to do so.

This test was less about trying to uncover the inner mystery of the self as it was about discovering the limits of the self. A field test to see what he could do without the assistance of technology or even weaponry... well, almost. Some exceptions had to be made, such as his replacement limbs, but such things couldn't be helped under the circumstances; Hobbling into battle on one leg might have been more organic, but it may have sewed the results more heavily. Besides, those limbs were as much apart of his being as his actual flesh and blood at this point.

Implants had also been disabled for the purposes of this test... including those that allowed for emotional regulation. It was way he was watching the archived recordings of the greenskins; Because of all the emotions he could feel, fury would be the most helpful to his biological brain for the purposes of what was about to happen.

...............................

It was... hard to put into words what happened next.

Everything was like a blur... but at the same time he remembered it all in clear, perfect detail. Completely in control of his own actions and yet... out of control all the same. The idea of stopping had never even occurred to him at the time.

He remembered grabbing the gretchen and throwing it directly into the open maw of the leaping squiq hard enough to force it to close its mouth long enough for him to punch it through the top of its head, grab and handful of its matter and using the corpse to block an axe strike. He remembered grabbing that ork and using the dull shiv that one of the dead gretchen had tried to use and slammed it into its chest and neck again and again in a sloppy, painful fashion because he wanted the ork to feel the pain before he jerked it to use it as a meat-shield against a spray of bullets... then as a projectile in order to knock the gunner down.

He remembered breaking the ork with a flamer's arm and forcing it in different directions, ignoring the attempts by the screaming greenskin to free itself from his grasp as he made it pull the trigger several times to roast his companions before bending the arm towards his own face.

He also remembered breaking the arm of that ork with the power 'klaw', forcing the metal limb towards his head before grasping the claw itself and pushing on it until the straining motors trying to keep it open finally failed, snapping shut and crushing the head of its owner. He remembered the looks of fear and pain in their voices and eyes in their final moments and felt the hatred he felt for all Orks proclaim that this wasn't enough... that he needed to kill all of them.

And he remembered hearing something coming up behind him and instinct being faster then thought for just one moment before his fist shattered the servo-skull that had drifted too close.

That was the moment where he stopped and turned on the emotional regulation implants again so he could properly examine the hatred, the sense of self justification for a slower kill just to see the target in agony as they died, the need for more victims in earnest and apply logic and true calculation to what the outcome would be if he allowed them to drive him forward.

Mankind had long associated anger with that of fire. Rik could see why; Both could carry someone through the harshest and darkest of events. Both requiring a degree of care-taking in order to continue burning and even after it was believed to have long died down, cinders and embers could be stoked to start it anew. But they could also both go out of control in an indiscriminate blaze, consuming everything around it and leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

Hate... was different. Many humans believed that hate and anger were fundamentally the same thing but as Rik found himself breathing heavily for reasons other then the physical actions he had just taken, he knew at his core that it was different. Hate had weight to it that simple anger didn't. It was like a black hole, pulling everything around it towards it to be consumed and only being visible via witnessing what was currently circling the event horizon. Hate consumed until only it remained, alone in the empty darkness... and that would be the fate that awaited him if he followed that path.

The Orks would have simply been the start.

They needed to die, but not because he hated them. They would die because their existence was a danger to all around them and if they were not stopped, they would be all that would remain.

Quietly, alone, a blood soaked Rik began the process of scooping up all the pieces of the broken servo-skull. It would be tricky, but far from impossible to put it back into working order... even if it would never be the same as it was. But while he couldn't undo the mistake he had made completely, he would still try to make things right.