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The boundaries of reality are often thought to be inviolable, or at the very least very difficult to break on a large scale. But any wall can be broken given enough impetus. Any barrier can be brought down, and the gates meant to keep the omniverse functioning at a reasonable level of safety from extra-multiversal incursions can be forced open like any other. Though it had been aeons since the great time of woes that saw the fall of the incarnates, the tides of the aether nearly overwhelm all realities following the dooms of void, the dead realities, and the dark worlds, and the war against the Dark Voice that would see this new order sundered into a safer one, something wicked stirred once again. Like the gut of someone who had eaten something that disagreed with them; the Omniverse issued a rumbling protest. A deep, but all but imperceptible to the non-cosmically attuned quake went through all realities as great gates opened forth once more. A new triple woe had taken hold over the omniverse, one that threatened to bring about the end of reality as we knew and loved it.

This is the story of the battle against one of these woes. This is the story of heroes and villains. A tale of untold armies and alliances. A clash of ideals and abilities. A battle of the likes the Omniverse had not seen for a very long time. A Dimensional Clash. A clash to ring throughout reality as the chime of sundered barriers reverberated across all realities. A clash whose tale begins on the simple world of Phobos. Well, it would be simple were it not for the demons being battled by a single, doomed marine with a lot of relish and a very big gun.

Yes, the hordes of hell were quite upset this time. The roar of a shotgun went throughout the halls as the Doomguy sent two barrels worth of buckshot through the skull of an Imp, reducing it to a fine spray instantly as a very loud "F*CK YEAAAAHHH!": came from the semi-psychotic soldier. Another imp made the mistake of approaching the nutcase and was rewarded for it's audacity with a chainsaw to the gut, rewarding the green armor clad maniac with a spray of gore, a roar of pain, a look of shock and terror on the demon's face, and the VRRRROOOOMMM of the chainsaw.

Cacodemons maneuvered through the room, seeking to get a bead on their ridiculously fast adversary, belching electric blue orbs of ball lightning all the while trying to avoid the madman's wrath. A valiant effort, but the Doomguy's typical reaction to enemies who were doing their best to make themselves hard to hit was to bring out the weight of averages. A Plasma rifle's rapid fire spitting of blue death reduced three unfortunate cacodemons to ash as the Doomguy put his weapon away into the forgotten depths where he stashed his improbably large arsenal, meeting a pair of imps with his super-shotgun to tear one's upper torso clean off, and with a loud BLAM and wet squishing sound, disembowel the second.

"Aww does it hurt? Lemme kiss it and make it better...WITH MY BOOT!" The Doomguy laughed before kicking the demon in the head until it's head disappeared in a red mist even as it tried to push it's guts back into his abdomen.

As he kept on slaughtering his enemies, he was confronted with an odd sight. Some of the enemies he saw looked...different than the usual parade of hell's monsters he was mulching left right and centre. Digitrade four jawed reptilians fired what he assumed were cheap plasma rifle knock offs at him, and had some sort of shield around them leading a menagerie of aliens who were warbling in a desperately confused manner. Elites is what people in a different universe called the reptiles. They lead other creatures he didn't recognize such as hairy brutes, whining, whimpering grunts, weedy little jackals wormlike hunters, buzzing drones, and other such things he'd never seen before.

As he watched, they started emerging from portals in poor order, confused and disorientated, seemingly vomited out against their own will rather than of any design of their own. The moments the first group he spotted spent analyzing the situation would be the last moments of the first group he met's lives, as he quickly seized upon the chance to get in some more kills; running in at obscene speeds and blasting away with a rocket launcher that pulverized the first elite, tore apart four grunts near the elite with a massive roar while others were flung around like ragdolls from just the first thunderous impact, with the second and third rockets making short work of the remainder of the patrol, leaving their guns to him to satisfy the kleptomaniac deep down inside.

Always glad to take more guns for himself, the Doomguy quickly sprinted elsewhere as more of these portals started opening up all around the Martian system. Some spat forth things that didn't look like the new aliens at all, but he supposed he'd get to them when he got to them, he thought as he brought out his trusty chain gun and sawed down a squad of jackals, the BRRRRT of the gatling gun being accentuated by the cracks of shield impacts, the thwips of flying through the air, the thuds of impacting armor and flesh, and the screams of the dying as he quickly swung around and hacked down a mob of zombies, their flesh and armor yielding to his guns as swiftly as ever and yielding their precious ammunition to him. Even as he looted their corpses, a quick look out the window showed him a scene where the confused Covenant aliens were busily fighting against the equally surprised Hell demons in an orgy of carnage he almost felt bad for missing.

"Hey, you kids play nice there!" He shouted with a chuckle, deciding to take a detour to the left to find some more ammo for his guns. A sentiment he was half-way through to seeing realized when yet another portal opened in front of him, vomiting out a silvery figure in armor he was able to quickly identify as feminine in nature. A shotgun blast rang out from him, but a swift dodge from the woman put her out of the way of the incoming slugs as she quickly fired off some sort of freezing blast at him. The sharp "tunk" of the ice beam preceding him being encased in ice as she walked away from him.

What a way to start the day, Samus thought.

Prelude

The fighting in the Diemos cluster had been raging for close to a century now. Xenos capitals, rebel strongholds; all the usual trappings of Xeno heresy. A good thousand Imperial Guard regiments had been thrown at the cluster, only to be driven back as intense anti-orbital fire tore at the ships coming in. Nevertheless, they had eventually made planetfall, swiftly overrunning the Tau that had dared to expand to this space in a tide of bodies, blood and fury. They had taken their first worlds back – and then simply ground to a halt.

That was when the Ventirans had arrived.

Tank crews and their Stormtrooper veteran support swiftly responded to the call of war, dropping in to flank frontline positions, eliminate enemy commanders, and shift the tides of war. However, even with billions of Guardsmen pressing their lines and Stormtrooper sorties ravaging supply lines and mauling command personnel, the Tau held. Their own insertion teams started reaping a toll equal to that of the Ventirans. After months of pressure, high command finally gave upon the request of one Major Irri Tation. A single vox echoed across space to the single Chapter Monastery capable of intervention: The Rock. In was during the dead of night on the Cluster centre world, Korus, that the Unforgiven struck, green clad Space Marines thundering down alongside Ventiran stormtroopers to cut the head off the Tau war machine, the Ethereal Aun'Va himself. The operation was swift, smooth, as planned – until those warp portals opened up. Authrix, the single Librarian in the assault, felt the warp rifts tear open even as reality itself shattered. On the other side of the room, Tobias Hepps of the Ventiran 82nd watched as a portal sucked in Authrix, the only space marine he had ever met with even a shred of good humour. It was only natural that he jumped in after him.

- -

'And the point of that was...?'
'I can't help being hungry Rynn.'
'Yes, but using your Shield unit to cook bacon seems...'
'Efficient?'
'Stupid. You'll just burn it.' Arfiel shrugged as he flipped the rasher, letting a satisfied grin slip onto his face as the bacon sizzled.
'I have no idea what you're talking about. Besides, they taught us this in basic.' Rynn frowned.
'How to cook?'
'Basic survival skills.'
'We're on a ship! With perfectly usable cooking apparatus.' Arfiel nodded.
'Yes, but that requires me to leave my post.' Rynn shook her head, detaching the shield unit from the spare armour, which Arfiel was using to cook the food.
'Kitchen. Before something goes wrong and you actually need to use it.' He shook his head.
'Eh. It's only really because it was there.'
'We're meant to be looking out for danger, and you're making me babysit you.' He laughed.
'Hey, you don't have to you know.'
'Oh I do,' she began, taking the bacon 'Because your total lack of responsibility means you'll end up doing something that -' Arfiel frowned as she stopped suddenly, pointing. 'The hell is that?' He followed her gaze to a rift, simply sitting there, on the ship's bow.
'I swear, before you jump to conclusions, that was not me.'
The two of them looked at each other, activated helms, and stalked to the front of the ship. It was still there, shimmering in blues, greens, reds, and colours neither could identify.
'It's...'
'I don't...'
'It's rather beautiful, isn't it?' Arfiel went to reply, but found himself lost for words. Instead, he changed the topic.
'Can I have my shield back?'
'Why... what are you planning?'
'Remember last time we jumped through something like this?'
'Technically, that never happened. Or was it “hasn't happened yet”?' Arfiel plugged the shield unit back in, watching the gauge refill. A quick psychic scan threw back almost nothing.
'feth it. Yoloswag.'
'What?'
With that, Arfiel jumped into the portal. Rynn stood there, not entirely surprised.
'Sometimes, I really hate you Arfiel.' she murmured, before following suit.

Now

Hepps emerged to find Authrix sending bolts downrange at a target somewhere between a Bloodletter and a giant pig.
'Having fun, Librarian?'
'Tons.' Growled the Dark Angel, popping another bloated form as he advanced. 'Keep up, you're late already.' Hepps grinned as he scoped in, blue las whipping an Elite in gold plated armour, bursting its brain over the already blood stained sand.
'Where the hell are we?'
'There, I suspect. Though there's an odd lack of the usual Daemonic forces here. And too many buildings.' More bolts, a casual flick of lightning. 'Of course Hepps, I'll have to kill you for witnessing daemonic influence.' Hepps missed a shot as he laughed.
'Right. Because that's definitely your kind of thing. Remember the Ishkur thing?'
'With the kid?'
'Yeah, that one.' Authrix had to smile at that. He'd done a good deed, saving a young servant of the Emperor from execution. He knew it hadn't seen anything. It was pure, and would remain so – in fact, it would become a saint eventually. But those Iron Hand muppets had wanted the thing put to death.
'Left side.' Authrix snapped back as Hepps called out, turning to pop another, this time a midget... thing with glowing balls. In its hands. The balls rolled downhill, into a crowd of tiny reptile things, which scattered at the sight. Moments later, dust and sand plumed up as the balls detonated, sending plasma heat through the air, which both Authrix' and Hepps's optics picked up as wild flares of heat.
'These things Hrud, Librarian?'
'Nope.' He replied, changing Bolt mags as another short one ran at them. This time a precise bolt between the eyes from Hepps put it down.
'Squats?' He suggested. Authrix faced him, deadpan in the middle of the raging warzone. Red winds whipped around the two as they stood, deadpan in the middle of the raging battle. Plasma and solid slugs bounced off their armour as they stared each other down. Finally, after a whole minute of inactivity, Authrix spoke.
'We don't talk about those.' With that, he returned to the battle, drawing his Chainsword as more demons ran at him. Arden kept firing as Authrix dodged the first blows, counter swinging, tearing the beasts in two. 'Easier to take apart than they look.'
'Got it.' He kicked one down, finishing the prone beast with a single shot from his Hellgun. 'Perhaps we should move inside?'
'Agreed. Cover.'
'Covering.'
The two began making their way indoors as more demons and Covenant closed on the courtyard in which the two had been deployed.

- -
What first greeted Arfiel was, at best, confusing. It seemed to him that he had emerged in Kreos, his home city. Yet something was off about it. Perhaps it was the lighting, a more ruddy glow than he was used to, or maybe it was the sound of exotic gunfire outside. More likely though, it was the red... thing in front of him. It looked human. Ish. But its skin was red, the thing had horns, and was currently yodeling some sort of blood cry as it ran at him. He ducked as it swung, a blur of red and heinously sharp claws. He had no time to react at the thing grabbed at him, barely missing as he leapt back. A single pulse of energy from his hand staggered it, but before he could move, the demon was back on him. It grabbed, pinning his arms down. With a gleeful gurgle, it opened it maw, rows of razor sharp teeth ready to tear his flesh from the bone. For his part, Arfiel focussed all he could, trying to summon up some energy, a psychic blast, relocation, anything.
It raised its head as a blue form burst from the portal, flipping over both Arfiel and the demon. A shimmering wave of energy flicked past, barely a millimetre from his neck. The demon gurgled again, before its head rolled off its body. Rynn flicked her blade clean, facing Arfiel.
'That's why I have to keep an eye on you.'
'I totally -' Her eyes narrowed. 'Right. Sorry. Thanks. I think.' She smiled.
'No problem.' She frowned at the corpse. 'Though I don't know what the hell this is. Any ideas?'
'You're asking me?'
'You're the smart one.'
'Not a clue.'
'Figures. Ok then, let's -' She turned to the portal, only to find it gone. 'Let's find another way home.'
'Hey Rynn?'
'Yeah?'
'This is gonna be exactly like last time, isn't it?' She sighed before nodding. 'Probably. Jolly co-operation?'
'Of course.' With that, the two headed deeper into the complex.

"Where am I?". "What is this place?". "....Am I in some sort of amusement park?".

All of these thoughts crossed the mind of Asari special operations agent Cyree Altius as she first gazed upon her new surroundings. The room she was in wasn't made out of metal or covered in monitors either displaying eerily specific advertising or one really bright light. Rather it was made out of tempered clay bricks, stone floors and rusted metal gratings. Hanging off of the walls were tattered red banners bearing some strange symbol in the center. Even through her helmet's filters the alien could smell the distinct reek of the dead. It wasn't something she wasn't used to but that combined with the odd and the rather unsettling scenery put her on edge. She stepped off the unknown contraption that brought her here, raised her assault rifle and checked the corners of the room. The only thing there was a crate with question marks painted on it's top. It was an obvious trap, Cyree thought, But she would rather find out who is behind all of this madness right away.

She slowly approached the crate with her assault rifle shouldered. When she got close enough the crate opened and a weird looking weapon popped out. Then it became another one. And then another. The weapon changed form several dozen more times before settling on the form of a machine gun of some form. A very spartan weapon to be sure with simply black paint and a wooden stock to decorate it. She shrugged, slung her rifle and picked up the new weapon. Sure the sudden transformations were unsettling but something in her gut told her that it was safe to touch the gun.

The box then slammed back shut on it's lonesome. Cyree looked the weapon over to see where the rifle accepted thermal clips if it all. The only source of ammunition she could find was a drum on the side of the gun. How it was to be reloaded was beyond her but she'd find out sooner or later. She walked away from the box and out through the only exit she could find in the room: A double sided door with a manual opening system. Once outside Cyree saw that she was in some sort of town on a planet during night time. It was unlike any other city she had seen, though. At least... wait. These symbols. This brickwork. This gun. The Asari had seen these things before... on an Earth history documentary about some sort of global conflict. That took place more than 200 years ago. Had she traveled back in time? She was suddenly taken from Illium and arrived here in that machine. Before she could get any further answers a portal opened under her feet forcing her to fall through.

"I saw it! Some sort of space man came through that machine of yours, Richtofen! Came in and took one of your buzzsaws from the box!", a gruff sounding man said. "Ja? And where is this... space man?", Richtofen asked. "Over... here", the gruff voiced man answered. The two of them had rounded the corner and entered the courtyard where Cyree was just in. "Really, Dempsey, I think all of that Double Tap Rootbeer is getting to your head. You are not supposed to drink that recreationally", the Nazi scientist said. "I swore I saw a space man... maybe it ran off somewhere". "Perhaps. Let's return to our group before they are overrun by the undead hordes. We will deal with your "Space Man" in due time".


The portal had dumped Cyree right on her ass before rapidly closing. The futuristic architecture of the new room she was in at least implied to her that she was back in her own time. Or roughly in her own time at the very least. She grabbed her new gun, stood up and stretched out her torso. The room had no real interesting features in it so she decided to leave it for greener pastures. The Asari walks out of the room and into a cramped corridor. Standing on the other side of the corridor was a bulky, ivory clad alien. The alien turned around as soon as he heard Cyree's footsteps. Armed with only a glowing melee weapon the huge alien charged at other but smaller alien. Before his charge was complete Cyree used her biotic powers to throw the alien far down the hallway. She raised her machine gun and fired a roaring hail of bullets. The Elite's shields were depleted in short order and the bullets themselves turned his flesh into paste. The walls were coated in purple blood. Cyree was quite sastified with the machine gun's performance but was interested her more was what was left behind. All around her were brass cylinders that had only one end open. She had read that antique weaponry used cartridge based ammunition but she never thought she would use one. Shrugging, she continued on and past the ivory clad alien in hopes of meeting someone friendly here. If she was back in her own time she certainly wasn't in Citadel Space.

The webs of time are complex indeed. None knew this better than the Bronze Dragonflight and the Timewalkers, who patrolled time to ensure nobody interfered with the main timeline. However, other than the main road of time, there were a thousand thousand tunnels in every direction, exploring every possible unused opportunity or averted event. In one of these timelines, an unbelievably unlikely event happened.

It was before the rise of the Black Queen. Before the founding of the Legion. Before the Legion War begun. Before even the completion of Runefang. It was in the arctic lands of Northrend, where the Kor'kron Special Forces had joined a large group of gathered minor Horde organisations in an extensive military campaign against an equivalent group of Alliance organisations. The war raged on, but one night something unexpected came to pass.

It was a silent night. Well, comparatively silent. The sounds of Northrend never truly stop; whether it is the howling of the biting arctic wind, the noises of the native beasts or the sounds of soldiers unable to sleep and blowing their pay in the bar, there is always something to be heard. In the corner of Warsong Hold where the Kor'kron Special Forces were resting, however, a comparative silence had settled. It was dark in the Hold as the only sources of light were the torches and braziers spread out across its halls. Most of the Kor'kron were sleeping. They were living, mortal warriors, who needed to sleep, to breathe, to rest. Ashiraya Aelera Sunblade had long since ceased to need such mortal sustenance. Her muscles no longer powered her body, instead the Unholy energies coursing through her body is what made her limbs move and blood flow. The energy regenerated itself, so there would be no need for her to even eat.

The soldiers sleeped deeply indeed. Some snored, some slept silently, some even moved in their sleep, but they all had been exhausted by the long marches and hard fighting of the day. Not so Ashiraya. The Blood Elf Death Knight stood alone in a corner, passively watching the Kor'kron while she focused her other brain half on meditation. The morning was many hours away still. Perhaps she should go-

With a noise sounding like something between an orange being squished and a spine being cracked, a swirling hole in reality ripped itself up right in front of her. She did not even have time to shout out a warning before it consumed her and vanished. The Kor'kron leapt to their feet but could find no trace of either entity. Too tired to assume anything else than that the Death Knight had simply walked elsewhere, they returned to sleep, determined to find out more once they had recovered the strength to keep their eyelids open.

The hole spitted out Ashiraya in a very unfamiliar place. She rose to her feet and drew her axe, looking around, trying to analyse her surroundings. Thoughts raced through her mind and were rapidly assessed one at a time, but she made no sound. Wherever this place was, what mattered most was finding someone who knew what happened, where she was, why she was there, and how she can get back. With weapon at the ready she began advancing cautiously through the corridor in front of her.

As Cyree approached a corner in the corridor she pressed her back up against the wall and slowly shuffled towards the edge. She slowly leaned out around the corner with her empty MG42 at the ready. She spots a woman in baroque plate armor and wielding a war axe walking the opposite direction. Though her armor was ornate it was still apparent to Cyree that the other's equipment was primitive. What was going on here? First she is in Nazi Germany. Now she is back in the present but there is a ancient fighter walking about. Regardless, it looked roughly humanoid so perhaps the Asari could negotiate with it. To be safe, she looked the rifle over to see if there was any way to tell if it was out of ammunition. A latch she pushed slid the magazine off which revealed that it's entire reserve had been spent. With no way to resupply herself with more rounds she simply set the gun down and drew her Mattock Assault Rifle. It was tempting to keep the gun in order to sell it for a lot of credits as an antique. So tempting that she hefted the MG42 back up and slung it using it's leather strap. The Asari also removed her helmet. It may help the primitive understand that she isn't there to hurt her and the shields her armor projects should be enough to protect against it's simple axe.

With the Mattock rifle in her hands Cyree went around the corner and announced, in English, "Greetings sir or miss. I am Cyree Altius of the Asari Republics. Do not attack, I am not here to make war with you". She kept her distance from Ashiraya in case it either didn't understand what she said or didn't care.

Ashiraya, while fluent in both Common, Orcish, Thalassian and Nerubian, and even able to understand a little Faceless, could not comprehend English in the slightest. She readies her axe but lowers it quickly, understanding that whatever this... Creature (Could it be a Draenei?) is most likely is not hostile. After all, if it was, why would it not have attacked by now?

Ashiraya thinks for a moment before trying all the languages she knows, one by one, even attempting some terribly disfigured Faceless even though she lacks the physical ability to properly make the sounds needed.

Ehm... Goibon Uden Lo? Bal'a dash, malanore? Ek-grundum-tuk? Shhhad ak kereeesshh chak-k-k? ...Shgla'yos plahf mh'naus?

He could care little about the era he'd be summoned in. It had happened quite a few times already and each time there were only a few interesting events that would actually catch his attention. For Gilgamesh, this new area was not at all what he expected. There appeared to be a battle going on but the King of Heroes distanced himself away from the mongrels involved in that fight. He had no desire to watch such a dull display and he would rather take the time to do things by himself.

He didn't sense any particular person summoning him though, which was strange. Normally when the Grail summoned a heroic spirit like himself he'd need to find a Master to keep himself sustained in the physical world. Thankfully enough, with a high rank of Independent Action, he was mostly free to ignore that rule and do as he pleased. Since he was summoned, this Servant had been wandering around carelessly with his ability of Independent Action. But, getting tired of parading himself in his spirit form, Gilgamesh decided to dress himself in ‘playing attire’ to take on physical form on a whim while having a stroll in these corridors, donned in a modern match-up of a leather jacket with furs and fashionable leather pants.

Though taking the path of least resistance, he still met face to face with strange creatures he had not encountered before and speaking in a language unknown to him. They gestured towards him threateningly, pointing their weapons at him and firing bolts of incandescent light every so often. His defenses were up immediately, the space around him distorting in a haze as a pair of two strange shields appeared to take in the plasma shots from the strange creatures. They struck the surface, their energies dissipating and being absorbed. Before anything else could respond, no less than eight spears and blades appeared from the same spot as the shields, being sent with tremendous force at his attackers, causing an explosion that tore up the corridor as if a carpet-bombing had just taken place.

As the dust cleared, Gilgamesh stepped through, not even bothering to check if the attackers were still alive. He paid them no mind, continuing on his own merry way. Eventually, however, he came upon a small gathering of people. Two women so far... supposedly, based on what he could tell from first impressions, one wielding a battle axe and one wielding strange weapons not of this time. Maybe the second wasn't human at all?

He immediately reverted to spiritual form, becoming nigh intangible before letting himself materialize in an alcove overlooking the two approximately 10 meters above. "What kind of dull place have I found myself in?" he declared arrogantly as he stepped forth to reveal himself. Gone was his casual attire, replaced by golden armor that shone with the same amount of arrogance as the way he presented himself. His crimson eyes gazed down at the two, as if ascertaining whether or not he should let them be.

Cyree's translator went through every language and dialect it had in it's repetoire but it could not get a match for what the Death Knight said. She raised her arm, looked down at it and pressed a button on the device attached to her forearm. The device lit up and projected a hologram which displayed a start up menu. She attempted to connect to the Extranet to see if she could find a match for her language. An error message said, "Cannot Connect to Extranet: No connection available". She raised an eyebrow and closed it.

"Well, my friend, it would seem we are at a standstill. Maybe pictures....", she said. Her voice trailed off as she saw an hovering green light wander into the room. Right next to it the air shimmered and wavered. Or, more accurately, the features on the wall next to the light shimmered and waved. Cyree raised her Mattock rifle and fired three rounds at the shimmering light past Ashiraya. The metal grains impacted whatever was the source of the shimmering. A squeaky voice cried out in pain and the corpse of a black armored alien materialized before them. A floating energy sword and more floating lights entered the room. Cyree pointed at them and exclaimed, "Look out!".

Ashiraya quickly abandoned attempts at using words. Curses, if she only had a mage with Arcane Languages here! Oh well. She had to use gestures. So be it.

Ready to face this new attacker, she froze the blood in her veins into magical ice and held her axe firmly with the point against his incandescent armour.

For the two war forged warriors, the battle never seemed to let up. Authrix led the way into the complex, swatting aside xenos as they came running, while Hepps kept a rearguard down the dark corridors. Eventually, after piles of corpses and an eternity of twisting metal passageways the two finally ran out of foes to fight.
'Ah, and I was just starting to have fun.' Hepps mused, poking at an elite with his knife. The corpse gave slightly, but otherwise was still. Authrix scanned the room they had finally found themselves in. It was the same bare metal as the rest of the complex, with yellow and black warning stripes running down the walls. 'Don't suppose there're any windows around here Authrix?'
'None, Hepps.' A large stack of boxes lay against one wall, while a console glowing with a bank of computer screens sat in the centre of the room. Both the far and near walls had a sliding blast door, one of which the two had just entered through. Four pillars made for the rest of the room's available cover.
'Looks like a control station of some sort.'
'Possibly. I'll scan.'
'Got it.' Hepps moved to the console, tapping at keys, only to be greeted by a password screen. 'Gak, it's locked.'
'Then un-lock it.'
'Yeah, sorry Libby, but it won't answer to brute force.'
'Don't they teach you anything in the Astra Militarum?'
'That's Imperial Guard, thanks. And yeah, brute force.' With that, Authrix dove into the warp. Flickers of life all around. None too close... yet. Just him, Hepps, and two other things coming through the opposite door.
gak.
'Hepps, move, six!' Authrix was up, moving, raising his Bolt Pistol. The round discharged with a boom-crack.

The two paced down the corridor, blades drawn, pistols ready. Rynn's armour had injected combat drugs, a distilled version of LSD designed so time would appear to slow down, sharpening the users reflexes – or, at least, it had tried to. Rynn had removed that section of her armour a long time ago. Drugs were never, ever a good idea. Ever. They'd learned that lesson a long time ago. Still, tensions were high as they explored this new place, this new world as they quickly learned. The interior could have been any internal complex from any number of places; something from Alien, Halo, training on the Redemptor Rex, even their homes. After a while, Arfiel signalled to stop.
'What's up?'
'Contact around that corner.'
'Well, let's deal with it.'
'Rynn, it's an Elite.'
'An “Elite”?'
'Yeah. Halo. Didn't you ever play Halo?'
'I was too busy dealing with my horrendous parents, remember?'
'Right. Anyway, it's an alien that -' Rynn's hand shot across his mouth.
'Arfiel.'
'Yes?' he mumbled.
'If I walk around that corner and ask if it wants to come for a nice little tea party, what are the odds it'll shoot at me?'
'Almost certain.'
'Good.' She stepped around the corner, levelled her pistol, and fired. Two heavy rounds broke from the long-barrelled gun, the first fracturing the Elite's shields, the second punching through both sides of the skull, leaving a trail of blood running down the corridor. 'You can stop hiding now Arfiel. It's dead.' He stepped out from cover, shaking his head.
'I was going to tell you it has a shield, armour, and probably plasma weaponry.'
'Well, now I know, and it's dead. Go team.' She started off down the corridor again, now humming to herself. For his part, Arfiel took the alien's rifle. He weighed the weapon in his hands, shrugged, and set off after his counterpart. They were about to enter another door when Arfiel grabbed Rynn, pulling her back.
'There's two in there.'
'Ok, you take one I'll get the other.'
'No Rynn, it's two humans.'
'Humans.' She frowned. 'Like, us humans, or alien loving humans.'
'Us humans, of a sort. I'm not sure if they're loyal, renegade, or...'
'Well, we'll just have to find out, won't we?' She strode past the door, barely dodging a muzzle flare as one of the room's occupants opened fire. The bolt whipped past to detonate against the back wall as Rynn and Arfiel found cover behind the pillars.
'ADV, hold your fire!'
'Imperial Guard hold your fire!' The in-helm translators did most of the work for both sides.

The two figures snapped shots back as Authrix opened up, scorning the available cover to take a more clear shot. The first one was fast though, dodging the round entirely. Authrix sent a ping, suddenly; Possible friendlies. Suddenly both sides were shouting to stand down.
'ADV?' Hepps breathed through the comms. 'Who the feth are the ADV?'
'I have no idea Hepps. Let's find out.'
'ADV?'
'Yeah, that's us.' One of the voices replied.
'No, what is it?'
Rynn, wired on adrenalin, could barely help herself. 'What do they mean, “What is it”?!'
'They're probably not from around here. Well, we aren't. But-'
'The point?!'
'The point is that they don't have much of a clue either.'
'Right...'
'Listen.' Arfiel stood, placing the rifle on the ground. 'We're not here to fight humans. We just want off this planet. We're good to talk things out with you.'
Hepps and Authrix exchanged glances, nodded. Hepps lowered his weapon.
'Have your friend lower theirs too, and we'll be alright.'
'Do it Rynn.'
'feth off.' She growled. 'You don't command me.'
'Actually... not to pull rank or anything, but...' With an annoyed sigh, Rynn's weapons hit the floor.
'Sometimes, I really hate you Arfiel.'
'Alrighty. Now we can begin.'

Arfiel and Authrix both took their measure of the other party in a heartbeat. Neither pried too deeply into the other's mind, neither threw up too much resistance. Both met a mutual understanding. Rynn and Hepps stood, watching the two, both aware of the other's power. Finally, Arfiel broke the silence.
'So this “Emperor”, then...'
'The God Emperor of Mankind. Your master.' Rynn didn't know whether to laugh at that or cry. She was tired of dictators and madmen running things. Swain had been bad enough, but he never called himself an outright God. Arfiel knew that as well as any other.
'Right. He's not a bad guy, is he? His people love him.'
Authrix's initial reaction was to confirm this, but his mind quickly jumped to Chaos, renegades, traitors. Eh, outliers.
'Of course.'
'Right.'
The two groups stood in silence, each sizing the other up.
'So...' Hepps began. '”ADV”?'
'Relax Hepps, they're friendly. Misguided, but friendly.'
'Yeah. No offence, but I'm not really one for Emperors or anything. So I'll pass, if you don't mind.' Authrix had to physically resist raising his Bolt Pistol.
'Bad experiences with self-proclaimed Warlords.' Arfiel explained. Hepps nodded.
'Had a bit of trouble with that ourselves. Augustus' Reach.'
'They won't know, Hepps.'
'Right.' Rynn shook her head, picking up her weapons to sheath them once more.
'I have no idea what's going on any more.'
'They're from a different universe, Rynn. But they won't shoot us, and their Emperor is ok. Unlike Swain, who is -'
'Who is a total dick. I understand that.'
'Well... you know that portal thing we came through. They found one too, and now we're -'
'Now we're here.' Arfiel frowned.
'You've got to stop doing that.' Hepps picked up his gun. 'Look, just stick with us and you'll be fine. Oh, and don't stab us in the back or anything, ok?'
'Right. Don't be dicks. Got it.'
'Are you headed anywhere specific?' Authrix had made his way over to the other side of the room, letting the door open.
'Nope. Just wherever gets us out of here fastest.'
'Fine. We'll go this way then shall we?' Authrix set off back down the corridor, leaving Hepps, Arfiel and Rynn to follow.

"Ohhhh?" Gilgamesh said with amusement, watching the appearance of shimmering newcomers appear around the area below. Black armor, glowing swords, and other floating lights that were converging on the location of the two below. "It seems there are more mongrels on the way here. How unfortunately irritating." Gilgamesh told himself, snapping his fingers as the air around him distorted once more to reveal an odd collection of weapons. There are bare blades as well as spears. Each of them is decorated with eye-catching ornaments, and emitted a fierce magical power. It is clear they are no common weapons.

The treasured swords and spears all around him changed direction, a each one aimed at a different target at whatever black armored aliens there are all around the duo. "They shall at least entertain me when they scatter away like the mongrels that they are." he smirked, letting loose the weapons at his heartless verdict. They shot out without warning, pitched carelessly like one would throw a handful of stones. Still, the destructive power was enormous. Each blade sliced right through armor and struck the ground with the force of an explosive blast. The weapons fired out mercilessly from the distortion around him and it seemed he had no end to these weapons.

"Mongrels, be grateful I would even bother sullying my treasures with these pests. I will expect recompense in the future." he looked down at Cyree.

Ashiraya says nothing but sighs internally, wondering how such a normally sized body could fit such a huge ego.

She otherwise does not move, observing, still ready.

((GDI Lou you ninjaed me))

Cyree looked utterly perplexed by the sight of this man and his magical weaponry. What in the name of the Goddess is going on here?, she thought, Another humanoid in primitive armor?

She crossed her arms underneath her chest and answered, "You want to be repaid? Well, I would be happy to repay you for helping us against these creatures but I don't know what passes for currency for you. I mean, I have an antique Machine gun here that is worth quite a bit. I... don't know if you would find that valuable since you have those glowing swords and spears". She looks at the weapons, "Am I still in Nazi Germany? You both look like you are from the past".

"Currency? Ha! Surely you jest. Such concepts like currency are completely at odds with my existence. It is impossible for me to run out of currency as you call it." Gilgamesh replied, crossing his arms as his crimson gaze continued to look down at them.

"Money is just a system. A linear scale of value, a means to exchange goods, a means to store value. That which holds these functions, we call money. Currency itself is not wealth, but rather the many ideas, the culture, the arts, the real assets which are born of the system of exchange money allows, those are wealth. Mammonists are the vulgar sort who forget that original intention, and just hoard together a feeling of “safety.”" he declared rather pompously.

"But do not mistake me as simply being from the past. My origin may be as humanities most ancient Heroic Spirit, but the entire world is still my garden until the end of time. Make sure to remember that, mongrel." he continued stepping just hard enough on the surface of the alcove to crack the floor underneath him. "As for your next question, I doubt you are still in whatever city-state you came from. A proper summoning would have made me aware of where or when I am, but this is not one of those times."

"Yes, and often the common man puts himself in a iron cage of debt in the pursuit of material wealth. But that still doesn't answer my question. What exactly do you want from me as repayment?", she asks uncrossing her arms. Cyree then states, "I am not from Nazi Germany. In fact, I am not from Earth at all. I was just fighting off the Reapers on a distant planet called Illium when I found myself in Nazi Germany. I think a machine they were working on somehow teleported me through space and time. I don't know how that is possible but I've seen enough weird stuff today to believe anything. Now a portal dumped here in this weird building".

PRELUDE:

++PROGRESS REPORT: VALMAR RETAKING++

Craftword <Sealed by Imperial Decree>'s Forces have been successfully repulsed.

++The Eldar have been driven from this world, their forces scattered far and wide. The brave men of the 321st Cadian Light Infantry have successfully repelled a skeleton force of Eldar from Valmar V, in order to retake the bunker facility vital to the defence of the sector. A lone warlock was seen fleeing the battlefield, presumably towards one of the portals that the Eldar had come from++

++END TRANSMISSION++

Id'rael stepped from the rapidly crumbling ruins of the webway portal. The warlock dusted himself off, the thick grains of dust falling around him as he took stock of the situation. He looked around himself, seeing himself in an abandoned storeroom, the portal that he had emerged from rapidly disintegrating behind him, strained from the use. Emerging from the abandoned storeroom, he stepped into the corridor and hefted his witchblade, expecting a fight.

No sooner did he walk into the hallway did he encounter a pair of the demons that haunted this place, the foul creature looking not unlike a Pink Horror of Tzeentch. Nonetheless, he killed it with ease, running it through with his witchblade before decapitating the other with a backhanded swing. Re-asserting himself, he consulted the Runes of Battle, realizing that the arm of the webway in which he had traveled down had altered the course of history, sending him back in time, to the planet that the Mon-Keigh would later call Mars.

'Goibon Uden Lo? Bal'a dash, malanore? Ek-grundum-tuk? Shhhad ak kereeesshh chak-k-k? ...Shgla'yos plahf mh'naus?'

Unsure of what to tell this glowing stranger, Ashiraya decided to try every language she knew just like with the Draenei-creature earlier. Hopefully he would understand one of these languages.

Stands of sinew and black ichor re-nit into limbs, pearl bones were coated by purple tissue as the aura of fear was reignited. Bane was re-born anew, in the heart of Phobos. He investigated his surroundings, bloodied and scarred, the laboratories of the UAC. Nothing remained of the scientists except for charred corpses and bloody splatters, while demons had poured out from hell. Atropos had no time for creatures he could not feed from, though he was happy to return them to their fiery home. The sound of gun fire and ordinance rung through the halls, leading to a heavily armed and armoured figure gunning down dozens of the aliens and demons with what could only be called joy. He watched as the figure was frozen, left helpless in his cage of ice. A grin formed as Bane advanced on Doom guy, a feast for the elemental.

Id'rael stalked through the corridor, encountering more of the warp-spawn as he went, easily dispatching them with arcing swings of his witchblade. He heard noises up ahead, hoping that they would be allies he could work with to get off this forsaken rock. Instead hearing the distinctive sounds of High Gothic. The forces of the Imperium were here.

"That all depends on what you can offer as repayment. I don't look for anything in particular, just the worth of someone's existence. You may not even need to give me anything at all." Gilgamesh replied, chuckling at Cyree before his attention turned towards Ashiraya. He still couldn't understand the language of this creature and it was simply depressing in a way.

"Poor mongrel, I imagine it would be quite hard for a dog like that to say something without being understood, and so far away from whatever home she calls." he said, turning his head to face the appearance of other creatures materializing around them. Those he immediately judged hostile were struck mercilessly, blades shooting out from the space around him as he stayed safely above the alcove overlooking the pair.

The woman's words were fairly interesting though. Something teleporting them through space and time? And likely not even on that miserable planet anymore? Interesting, very interesting. Perhaps he can indeed find more entertainment in this place than he thought.

"Well, I am knowledgeable in diplomacy, I know several alien languages, I... sort of know alien history. Kind of. And I am also a talented biotic and a good shot. I.. can also look into people's minds if you need me to", Cyree says with a shrug, "I don't know if you really need any of those skills from me since you seem to be a godlike being". She crosses her arms and mutters, "Never thought I would say that one".

She looks at Ashiraya. "Is there something you can do so that we can understand what this... human is saying?", she asks.

Bane had found the mind of Doomguy to be empty of much coherency or any real train of thought that he could feed from, but he'd still managed to get something from the insane mortal, in a non-fatal feeding. He continue on his journey, mostly ignored by the demons who had ravaged the mars base, who ether confused them for their own kind, or simply didn't care. He peered from a far at a small group of people, gathered in discussion in an attempt from what he could tell, were attempting to understand the dark paladin's dialect.

The sundering of realities had begun. From the deepest pits of hell, foul hordes stirred as a bellow issued forth from the bowels of the pit. If the assault on the realms of the mortals was to continue, what restraint the demons were showing would have to be dropped to press forward. After all, Mars was supposed to be a stepping stone to the assault on earth, and this meddling could be tolerated no longer. Efforts were made to conjure forth more monsters, the possessed and zombified would have to be driven forward so that the demons of hell could make an advance on their corpses. Steadily, the number of Demons emerging from the teleporters that started the entire incident began to increase as the pixelated horrors sought to continue their windows 98 fueled rampage.

The Doom Guy on the other hand, could not be kept frozen for long. By the time some brutes had sought to investigate his icy form; the angry marine freed himself in a shower of ice shards that struck one of the brutes in the eye as he let out his roar of triumph. "THINGS TO KILL! GUNS TO SHOOT! RAGE TO BE HAD!!!!!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs as he got out his plasma rifle, whipping it out in a single clean motion before letting out a constant stream of super-heated blue death that quickly reduced brute flesh and bone to molten and charred liquid and powder. The shouts of the enraged soldier echoed throughout the hallways as he sought to pursue his psychopathic love of killing and heavy firepower.

All over the moon of Deimos, the scene was the same. Demons were surging out from hell to try and deal with the Covenant invaders, who had by now fallen into good order to try and fight their hellish adversaries. And the Doomguy was determined to kill them all, and find that woman who had frozen him earlier. And that guy who poked around in his head? Yeah f*ck him up the ass too, the Doomguy thought as he sought out new enemies to kill, his Hazard suit and armour equipped frame sprinting at incredible speeds as those not-native to his world would perceive him, like all the Demons and objects in his dimension; as sixteen bit sprites as if they had entered a game of Brutal Doom themselves.

A fact that had left Samus Aran rather puzzled, but immensely curious as she kneeled down and scanned some of the objects in the room, circling around a corpse that seemed to magically rotate to always keep it's front towards her as if it was incapable of presenting a back to her because nobody had ever rendered a back for the sprite. Very curious indeed, she thought as Cacodemons and Pain Elementals interrupted her musings with a sudden and dangerous flurry only to be interrupted by Banshee ground attack craft flying down towards them; guns blazing in an attempt to bring the demons down. Quickly jumping to the side of the flying demon assault, a quick sweep of her eyes over the targets informed her that she was now locked onto all of them, and for each of them; the prize of three missiles each was theirs to win!

To those near her, a rumble would have been felt as the powerful missiles struck home and reduced the demons into chunks and the aircraft into burning wreckage, followed by the wail of aircraft plummeting to the ground and the sound of them crashing into the pixelated dirt and skidding across, clearing a line full of zombies as Imps sought to get to grips with grunts firing away at them with their plasma pistols. Truth be told however; most of the engagements seen on the moon of Mars were still but skirmishes as the two forces sought to get their forces into place. A skirmish that caught the visitors in the crossfires as they sought one another's annihilation and the destruction of the threat that the visitors posed.

The group paused for a moment as the ceiling shook with a heavy rumble. Authrix kept walking, while the others simply looked up for a moment, frowned, and carried on regardless. Hepps, caught between curiosity and better manners, finally let the former get the better of him and spoke.
'So,' His voice echoed down the vast corridor, bouncing off the flat wall at the other end. 'What exactly is an ADV?' Again, Arfiel and Rynn's translators decoded the Low Gothic into English. Rynn laughed. 'The ADV, not an ADV.'
'Advance Program.' Arfiel stated bluntly. 'We're specially trained soldiers.'
'Like me?'
'Pretty much. I mean, there are differences.' Arfiel pointed to Rynn, who was now spinning her pistol on one finger. 'For example, she's trained in close combat. You'd think it's obsolete, but there are a lot of things out there that love to get up close and personal. She finds the best they have – champions, leaders, whatever, and does her thing.'
'Her “thing”?'
'By that, I mean kills them.'
'I see.' Hepps frowned for a moment before continuing. 'So she's an assassin.'
'Of a sort. She doesn't really go assassinating things as her whole job, but it's her speciality. Close combat duels, that is.'
'Right. And you?' Arfiel grinned.
'I'm defence. I keep everyone alive.'
'How?'
'Well, my shield expands. I throw out psychic defences and buffs like no one's business and -'
'Wait, you're a psyker?'
'I'm psychic, yes.' Hepps levelled his rifle, stepping back from Arfiel, scoped on his head.
'Witch! Why didn't you tell us!?' He stopped as he felt a blade against his neck.
'Pull the trigger,' Rynn whispered, though her helmet made the effort difficult, 'And I'll personally see to it that you meet your Emperor without a head.' Arfiel simply blinked, shrugged, and started walking. Hepps growled before yelling again.
'Answer me, witch!' Finally, Authrix turned around.
'Alright, how about everybody chill the feth out for a moment? Girl, drop the sword, Toby, lower your gun.' Hepp's face bloomed red.
'But he's a psyker! Unsanctioned! How can we -'
'I said settle guardsman, that is an order. Besides, he's harmless.'
'I -bu- ju – how? How can you be certain?'
'They have no real warp presence. It's a different kind of psyker science.' And with that, the room exploded into violence.

They had left the corridor and emerged in a large open room with only a few stacked crates for cover. Powerful arc lights painted the scene in bright neon white light, casting odd shadows around the room, and each of the group found themselves reflected four times over on the floor in solid shadow. Yellow and black decorated the walls again in alternating stripes, while a placard announced that this room was, in fact, warehouse thirteen. The four of them had moved, still arguing as Authrix had kept walking into the warehouse. They had still been arguing when the four rifts opened, and yet more pixellated horrors had emerged, spitting forth all manner of energy balls and other things no one could really identify. Dizzying multicoloured bursts of light, balls of fire and thunder, and, confusingly, a few men armed with rifles. As quickly as the portals had opened they vanished, leaving the four and their adversaries trapped in a fight to the death.

Simultaneously, both psychics kicked into action, returning fire with energy of their own, thunderous bolts of lightning and a great pulse of energy bursting several of the demons of their own accord. Hepps and Rynn opened fire, the latter drawing her blade as she moved, taking a Demon's head with a swing while her pistol kicked in her off hand, swatting down a flying skull with a fierce crack.
'Cover at the crates. Hold ground.' Arfiel triggered the shield as Authrix switched to his side arm, explosive rounds removing a soldier in a bloody explosion of gore and sprite bits. Hepp's Hellgun spat a volley of blue-las death, taking out a group of soldiers that had opened fire moments ago, their shots pinging from the iridescent energy field now surrounding the four.
'Used to this kind of fighting?' Arfiel asked, pulsing down a spectre before following up with a shot to the head.
'Heavily outnumbered, no obvious way out, closed in on all sides? I was born in it.' His chainsword purred noisily as it found a spectre of its own to open up. 'Will your friend work with Hepps?' Arfiel chanced a glance over his shoulder, noting that the two were already fighting in their element.
'They'll be fine.'
On the other side of the room, the Hellspawn were thinning; it was the first major fight any of them had really had a stake in since they'd arrived, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was surviving. It was this thought that drove Rynn in her unique style of whirling slashes and precise stabs as she weaved a web of destruction through the... things. She still wasn't sure what they were called. It meant little as another head rolled, her instincts telling her to dodge – left. A half turn and slice followed, with another flow of blood. A rain of blue behind her clotheslined another two, which were sneaking up to strike her back. Hepps was a keen eye, and seamlessly transitioned into overwatch for his current “Battle buddy”. By the Throne, how he'd hated that idea. Not to say it didn't have its merits. A shot from the other side of the room swiped a Cacodemon, throttling down from above, destroying the foul beast utterly. Hepps quickly voxed a thanks to Authrix, and resumed his killing – only to find he'd run out of targets. The final demon was locked in a close assault, moving around the girl with a speed he was almost shocked by. Then he realised, the demon wasn't moving at all.

Rynn grinned fiercely as the Demon swiped furiously, yet futilely, at her darting form. After thousands of the same aliens to fight, having to deal with something new was refreshing – hell, maybe even a little fun. She jumped back lightly as it lunged forwards, only to dart in again with a pair of fast slashes, separating its arms from its body. Then she turned again, and with a casual back swipe, removed its head. She stopped, pulled her blade to her side, and bowed.
'I hope that was fun for you, miss.' Rynn just kept smiling.
'How are you doing Arf? Keeping alive?'
'I'm fine Rynn.' Arfiel finished his own demon, dodging back and firing at point blank range into an Imp's face. 'I think we're done here.'
'Then let us move on.' Authrix announced, already moving towards the door. Hepps stopped him short.
'Wait, wait, what about -'
'Hepps. You can trust him.' The Librarian gestured at the two newcomers. 'They know nothing of the Warp, Daemons, or Chaos. Now is not the time for a lesson in Daemonology.'
'I was merely going to suggest we check the crates.' Authrix frowned.
'Oh.'

Hepps couldn't help but laugh as they levered open the first crate by way of Psyblade.
'Well, I think we've just hit a jackpot.'
'What is it?'
The other three frowned as Hepps pulled out a squishy lump from the crate.
'Playdough?'
'C4. Plastic Explosive. Incenrio Castanas. Kaboom putty.'
'Whatever it's called,' Authrix interrupted 'There's enough here to level a Hab block.'
'Forget that, more like an entire Hive. I vote we send it to Ultramar. Armed.'
'Funny. But there has to be a better use for it than that.'
'We could always blow it up here.' The rest of them looked at Arfiel. No one said anything for a moment until Rynn asked.
'Why?'
'Well, they warped in here. Maybe they can only jump to certain places. If we can seal one of those off...'
'It means we don't have to worry so much about rearguard. Hepps, I'll unload, you three prime it.'
After a few minutes, both entrances and the supporting structures for the warehouse were covered in plastic explosive, the group sat at the far end of the exit corridor. Hepps traced his thumb back and forth over the detonator's switch over and over, each time faster and faster.
'Come on, come on.' The rest of them rolled their eyes.
'Do it.' Hepps hit the trigger. A massive dust cloud rolled out from the room, preceded by the force of the shockwave and the massive boom. Then the creaking began, before the warehouse collapsed in on itself, sealing the passage behind them.
'So. Worth it.' Hepps breathed, forcing down wild laughter.
'Agreed.' Rynn nodded. Arfiel stood, dusting himself off.
'We should get moving. Someone will have heard that.'
'Agreed.' Authrix was up and moving again. 'A shame we didn't catch something in there. Would have been glorious to watch some heretics or somesuch get vaporised by that.'
'Maybe next time.' The four walked on, leaving the trail of devastation behind them.

Bane approached the group, hovering towards them on, directly towards the undead paladin, Ashiraya and raised a hand: "Maybe I could be of assistance your translation problems, not an expert on language myself, but the mind and psyche is wide open to me, so I doubt understanding you will be a problem for me, my dear."

Ashiraya desperately used the last possible language- sign language. While she did not know if they were the same or even similar, she hoped that at least some of it should be understandable to the blue stranger or the armoured egomaniac. She dug up the old sign language training from her mind and began gesturing.

'Can - you - understand - me? I - am - not - your - enemy.'

Lord Plagueblade never asked questions. He never wondered why. He simply rode on. Finally he found himself on this rock. Roaming the facilities of this rock were countless abominations, but they didn't seem to be the work of the Dark Gods. Regardless, Plagueblade needed to limber up after a long ride and he didn't discriminate when it came to "practice". Dismounting his mount which Nurgle would keep safe for him until he returned, he strode towards the facility scythe in hand.

Bane peered into the mind of the undead, her simple language conveyed her claim to be of no threat, but the raised dead were not to be trusted, not that Bane trusted anyone for that matter. From his little jaunt, he saw little threat to himself; "Well, you seem friendly enough, and if your telling the truth, you mean us no harm."

Cyree had raised her rifle greet the newcomer. Whatever it was it certainly didn't look friendly. Before she could question the monstrosity she noticed the Death Knight make strange gestures. To her surprise Cyree understood some of what she was trying to communicate. The sign language Ashiraya was similar enough to one of the dialects the Asari was familiar with. She gestured back to the knight:

"I am not your enemy either. But this thing in front of us may be hostile".

She then turned to Bane. "What the feth are you and what do you want?".

Id'rael stalked after the four soldiers. One, in the garb of an Mon-Keigh Fanatic Librarian led the group, a couple of other humans trailing behind him. Having seen the destruction they had unwittingly wrought, Id"rael had no desire to engage in open conflict with them. Nonetheless, he desired some information as to where he was, and where the Mon-Keigh were going.

He coughed loudly, drawing the attention of the humans. Lowering his witchblade, he raised his free hand as a gesture of peace. Only time would tell of the mon-keigh would accept it.