Wraithblade6 — Roleplayer Guild

@kishin asura@supertinyking

Mithias opened his eyes. It was all blackness at first, but then, the substance of existence began to form around him. He stood unmoved as he felt himself transported between time and space and energy to come into a new universe, a new realm. Such godly transcendence was not unfamiliar to the ancient traveler, only this time, he wasn't driving the bus. 

Yellow eyes slit open in his ever-youthful, pristinely proportioned and flawless face. Long black hair, the envy of every black witch, ran free and wild down his back. He wore a black shirt with sleeves that ran under ornate, yet functional, metallic plates of armor that covered strategic locations over half of his body. Three daggers were strapped to the thigh on his right and a coiled whip hung from his waist on his left. His most powerful weapons remained invisible.

Whatever Mithais was, he emanated an aura of strength and unmoved confidence. He had appeared right next to Asura, yet gave no reaction to the mad god. Instead, his surreal gaze fixated upon the red devil that had summoned him here, and he watched him, unblinking for a uncomfortably long moment. 

"I am Mithias. Why have you summoned me?"

Xepherial watched with silent satisfaction as he saw his bolterfire hit squarely on target and the ork fall backwards. A faint tendril of smoke lifted from the tip of his weapon as he held it, white wings marking its breadth. A spark snapped at the bent junction of his damaged servo arm as the ominous looking techmarine confirmed the kill from his position. "Enemy neutralized." He said to nobody, only to have to retract that statement to himself as the ork suddenly moved, quickly rolling behind cover. 

There was no time to advance upon the ork before Xepherial detected movement behind him. Reacting appropriately, he spun in the direction to defend himself, but was halted by what he saw. A human voice called out from an impossible vision. A purple relic from the long dead past, his past, came to his side, as if one of the desiccated and time-forsaken space marine corpses that lay on the floor had risen and once again taken life. Xepherial had never before seen one of Fulgrim's legion with his own eyes, but the identification was unmistakable despite the dulling affects of time. Thankfully, the long lost brother was on his side. Xepherial stared as if beholding a specter.

Instantly, the techmarine analyzed the direction of his unexpected ally's weapon as he saw Vedius bring it up and take aim. It was to a point behind him again, where the ork had been. Quickly he returned his attention to the ork and was surprised to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a highly augmented mechanicus just before the whole shape of the thing vanished into a cloud of vapor and bolterfire. 

Whatever it had been, it seemed to be gone, along with the ork, for the moment. Xepherial dimmed his lights and failed to notice the path the vapors took toward him as he turned to regard Vedius. The Dark Angel's armor was clearly damaged, as he was. Dried astartes blood blended easily against the black and red paint down his side. 

As first, he couldn't find the words. There was no reason this Child of the Emperor should be alive after ten thousand years, and yet he was. Xepherial considered the time-warping potential of the warp and its capricious treatment of individuals and gave up on questioning it further. Fate was its own explanation. That being said, he something else to consider. This one had called him brother, specifically. As a chapter, Dark Angels tended to reserve such familial address to members of their own legion, while other legions might be referred to as cousins. Xepherial had been about to give up in his insane search for the "lost brother" the shaman had told him to find, yet here he had found one who had called him such. It was undoubtedly a sign. Xepherial hesitated, for in the same breath, the shaman had also warned him to beware his own kind. Which did the shaman mean? Xepherial had no means to interpret the prophecy, but in this moment he had to make a decision.

"Brother." The wounded techmarine replied in gratitude, leaning toward the former interpretation of the prophecy. "I am greatful for your support. I am Xepherial. Please, tell me what has happened here. How is it you have come to be guardian over..."

Xepherial stopped as he heard the sounds of a cough bounce off the metal walls. Faint light flickered from Urgrugg's eyes where he gathered power in the darkness, and Xepherial raised his weapon. Suddenly, the ork stepped out in plain view, his clothing fluttering in a silent wind, an ominous orb of fire floating above his hand. 

"He's a witch! Take cover!" Warnings flared to life on Xepherial's interface from behind him in the same moment, but it was too late to address them. The deathly sphere careened toward the two space marines with an ethereal scream, enlarging as it approached, threatening to consume them both in its anger. 

Xepherial dived to the side, witchfire blazing a path behind him into two mutant xenos that had nearly reached him. The impact with the floor sent a jolt of pain through his torso, but he flipped onto his back and opened fire at the remaining mutants using his servo arms for support. 

Bolts pummeled the flesh of one of the hellspawned creatures, spattering a rain of blood and gore through it to the other side. Xepherial struggled to stand while the others fought the remaining enemies.

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