Fallen Angels: The Cuprum Lords

I leave the ruined home of one of their kind, the mangled remains of its dwellers still in the blood-soaked wreckage. The stench is heavy, but I am numb to it, as I am to most things now.

Outside, the settlement sprawls below the dead tree at its heart, a massive, decaying skeleton of wood that looms over the houses and streets. Its bark, likely once vibrant, is now dry and lifeless. The creatures hover in the skies above—griffons, their wings carrying them in uneven, desperate patterns. Their claws wait to rend flesh, their gazes filled with anger, fear poorly hidden behind their bravado.

I have ammunition, but I do not use it. Every shot expended is one I cannot replace. The gun remains mag-locked to my hip.

Another group rushes at me, brave in their folly. They shout in their strange noises, but I do not care to understand their words. My combat knife shines faintly as it tears through flesh and bone. The feather-things die as all xenos do, broken beneath the will of the Emperor. I am efficient, precise. Their screams are brief.

My mind drifts elsewhere, to memories blurred and broken. I cannot recall how long I was in the Warp’s grasp. Days? Months? Time held no meaning in that accursed place. Only pain. Only its unrelenting presence, clawing at my soul. I feel the phantom weight of its touch even now, its non-existent scars seared into my being. The air here is fresh, crisp, but I long to tear my helm off and breathe it unfiltered. I deny myself that urge. I refuse.

The battle wanes. The remaining beaked-things scatter, their courage evaporating. I do not chase them. Their retreat grants me a moment of unwanted peace. The silence presses on me, heavier than any battle.

I glance at my armor, gray and copper dulled by the blood of the xenos and the dirt of this alien world. I do not know where I am. The stars are unfamiliar, the landscape alien. I am alone. My brothers… they are dead. Of this, I am certain. I cannot feel them, cannot hear their voices through the vox.

A strange pull grips me, deep in my core. A direction, faint yet undeniable. West. I do not understand its source, but it compels me. West, it whispers.

I tilt my head to the sky. The moon hangs above, pale and serene, an indifferent observer. I let my gaze linger for a moment, searching for answers it cannot provide.

Then, I step forward, reaching the edge of the cliff overlooking the desolate landscape far below. Without hesitation, I step off, my armored form plunging toward the earth. I do not fear the fall. The ground rises to meet me, and with it, the promise of something.

The valley stretched endlessly, a desolate expanse of white and grey bordered by the looming, jagged peaks of the mountains. Snow swirled in lazy flurries, carried by the wind that whistled through the narrow pass. Meadow dangled in Locari’s iron grip, her once-pristine coat now matted with dirt, sweat, and dried blood. The cold bit at her fur, but it was nothing compared to the gnawing dread that had settled in her chest.

The two giants marched onward in silence, their armored boots crunching through the snow with mechanical precision. The weight of their presence was oppressive; every step they took seemed to echo with a dreadful finality, reminding her of how little control she had over her fate.

She stared at the snow-covered ground passing below her, her hooves swinging uselessly. Every jolt of Locari’s movement made her wince, her body battered and bruised. Her mind, though, bore the brunt of the torment. The massacre of her town, the sight of her people being torn apart as if they were nothing—all of it haunted her every thought. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the bodies. With every breath she could still smell the burning and death.

Meadow had told herself she was doing the right thing when she’d taken those relics. She had convinced herself it was for the good of the town, a way to save her people. But now… what had it all been for? Her town was gone, her people slaughtered. And she was here, a broken, pathetic creature being dragged through the snow.

She thought of Hickory, she hoped the poor stallion had escaped.

Finally, she mustered the courage to speak, her voice trembling against the weight of her terror. “W-what will you do to me?” she stammered, her words barely audible over the wind.

Locari’s gaze didn’t waver as he marched on, his voice felt flat and unfeeling to her ears. “Do as we command, and you will not suffer more by our hands.”

The words should have brought her comfort, but they didn’t. There was no warmth in them, no reassurance. Only the cold declaration of a predator momentarily sparing its prey. She glanced up at the beaked helmet of the other giant—Calsin, she heard him called by the other. He was silent, his attention focused on some device strapped to his arm, the faint glow of its screen casting an eerie green on his armor.

Locari's voice cut through her thoughts like a blade. “Tell me of this Empire.”

Her ears twitched, and she forced herself to lift her head. “W-what do you want to know?” she stammered.

“Troop numbers. Fortifications. Everything.” The questions came without pause, delivered in a manner that left no room for hesitation.

Meadow’s mind raced, the answers coming unbidden. “There are guards—hundreds, maybe? I don’t know! They’re stationed around the city, but they’re not… they’re just ponies.”

“What else?” Locari pressed. “Weapons. Defenses.”

“The Crystal Heart,” she said quickly. “And the guards have spears, maybe a few unicorns. But that’s it. The city is peaceful, I swear!”

The other giant, the one carrying the stolen relics, stopped to listen. Its red lenses bore into her, unblinking. “What of this ‘Crystal Heart’?”

Meadow’s blood ran cold. “It—it protects the city,” she stammered. “It keeps out the snow and cold, and it keeps the ponies safe. It’s… it’s powered by love and harmony. I don’t know how it works…”

The beaked giant tilted its head slightly. “Sorcery,” it said, the word dripping with disdain. “Or technology disguised as it.”

A short pause and she could see the white armored one come close. “Alien,” Calsin said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence. Meadow flinched, her ears flattening against her head. “Hold still.”

Before she could react, he reached out and plucked her from Locari’s grip, holding her in his hands as if she weighed nothing. Meadow’s heart pounded as she squirmed weakly, her strength sapped by exhaustion and fear. Calsin’s grip was unyielding, his cold crimson lenses fixed on her with an unsettling intensity.

She yelped as a sharp, metallic instrument pierced her neck. The sensation was cold, clinical, and wholly alien. Blood flowed freely into a small vial, the crimson liquid catching the faint light of the moon. Meadow’s body went rigid, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of helplessness crashed over her.

Calsin’s voice was detached, analytical. “Fascinating,” he murmured as his cogitator began its analysis. “No chaos taint as far as I can see. Her body matches closely with equines, strangely so, even down to the smallest features.”

Meadow barely understood his words, her thoughts consumed by the icy metal leaving her neck. Her hooves twitched as she tried to push herself away, but it was useless. She was nothing to them—an insect to be examined and discarded.

Calsin glanced at the cogitator strapped to his arm. “Material within the horn’s structure appears unique,” he said. “Its biological properties extend throughout the xeno’s body.”

Locari snorted dismissively. “A curiosity. Nothing more.”

“Perhaps,” Calsin replied. “Even mere curiosities can prove worthwhile.”

Meadow shivered, the icy wind biting at her fur. She was barely aware of being moved next to the red fabric draped over the giant's chest, her body slumping against his armored chest. Her mind raced as she stared at the horizon, where the faint glow of the Crystal Empire was just visible through the swirling snow.

“The Crystal Empire is close…” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. “I-I’ve done everything you asked. You’ll let me go, won’t you?”

Calsin didn’t answer. His grip on her remained firm, his focus entirely on the path ahead. The silence was deafening, and her heart sank deeper with each passing second.

As they reached a fork in the path, Calsin stopped, lifting Meadow slightly higher. “Which way?” he demanded.

Her ears twitched, and she raised a hoof toward the right trail. “That way,” she murmured.

Calsin’s visor flickered faintly as he regarded the path. He had briefly considered using the xeno further, to gather more intelligence about her kind and their society. But the thought was dismissed as quickly as it arose. She had her purpose. She was no longer necessary.

He resumed his march. Ahead of him, Locari paused abruptly, his posture shifting. Without a word, the marine quickened his pace, his armored form cutting through the snow with renewed urgency. Calsin followed his brother’s gaze and saw it: the faint tip of a structure piercing the horizon. Distant but unmistakable, he was surprised to see the glow he had seen in the sky coming from the very walls of the city.

“You spoke true every way, alien,” Calsin said, his voice carrying a note of acknowledgment as the Crystal Empire came into clearer view.

Meadow’s ears twitched at his words, and for the first time since her capture, she felt something other than dread. Relief, fragile and fleeting, coursed through her. “We’re here!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with disbelief. “Yes, this is it! You’ll let me go now, right?”

Calsin didn’t respond immediately. His visor remained fixed on the city as the full scope of the Crystal Empire unfolded before him. Its structures glimmered, crystalline buildings and soft grass in stark contrast to the white expanse of snow surrounding them.

Finally, Calsin knelt, his massive frame lowering Meadow into the snow. She blinked up at him, her wide eyes filled with disbelief. He had kept his word. They were here, and he was releasing her. She had done as they commanded.

“Thank you… oh Celestia, thank you!” Meadow sobbed, her voice breaking as she collapsed onto the snow. Relief poured out of her in waves, her tears warm against her fur as she buried her face in her hooves.

Calsin watched her without a word, his movements precise as he raised his hand expectantly to Locari, who stood beside him. Locari regarded Calsin’s open hand for a moment, already knowing the older brother's intent. He unsheathed his tool and gave it to Calsin.

Meadow barely noticed him until the blade entered her neck. The action was swift, the cold steel filling her spine in an instant, separating nerves and spinal discs. Her body tipped forward, crumpling into the snow, her breath cut short as the world around her dimmed. Her last conscious thought was a strange mix of gratitude and confusion.

She had felt nothing.

Calsin stood, his shadow stretching over the still form of the xeno. Without sparing her another glance, he turned to Locari, who was already scanning the crystalline city ahead.

Locari shifted his gaze from the city to the still form of the xeno lying in the snow. He looked back to Calsin, who stood with the same resolute calm that seemed to always radiate from him. Even through that, Locari could sense his brother's running thoughts.

Calsin moved slightly, the large combat knife still held loosely in his hand. Locari’s eyes went toward the knife. He extended his hand, waiting. “My knife, Brother.”

Calsin turned his head, glancing at the blade as though he’d forgotten it was there. He let his arm drop to his side but didn’t return the weapon. “You have a blade already,” he said, his voice low and calm but with a reverence for what sat idle in Locari’s possession.

Locari’s gaze shifted to his hip, where Procuran’s chainsword rested, mag-locked securely to his armor. He reached for it, his hand hesitating as it hovered over the hilt. “I don’t believe I’ve earned such an honor,” he said, his tone quieter.

“Then earn it,” Calsin replied simply. “I imagine you’ll soon have the chance.”

Locari’s fingers curled around the hilt of the chainsword, and he removed it from its mag-lock. The weight of it settled into his hand, heavier than he had expected—not in its physical weight but in its very presence. He held the weapon before him, the intricate engravings on the spine catching the moonlight.

He leaned closer, inspecting the tiny carvings that ran along the blade’s surface. The words were too small for mortal eyes, but to his enhanced vision, they were clear. Each tiny engraving recorded the history of the weapon, a chronicle of the battles and victories it had seen. It was older than Procuran himself, a relic of the chapter’s past that carried the echoes of countless wars won on its teeth.

“Something as grand as this…” Locari murmured, his voice trailing off as he ran a gauntleted finger along the spine of the blade. He paused, the weight of his thoughts settling. “Yes… It would be an insult to let it idle. I will honor Procuran by bathing it in the blood of the bastards who dragged him here.”

Calsin nodded. “Then let its spirit sing once more. Procuran would demand no less.”

Locari tightened his grip on the chainsword, and gave the holy relic actuation. He could feel the faint hum of its ancient mechanisms through his gauntlet, it resonated with anticipation; it was hungry. For only a moment did he let the blades of it go free, before putting it back to a temporary rest, sheathing it.

The silence between the marines stretched on, broken only by the occasional gust of wind. Locari was the forest to break the short silence. “If these xenos speak Low Gothic,” he began, glancing toward Calsin, “there must have been some human presence here. An outpost, a forgotten settlement. Something.”

Calsin’s attention was on the cogitator built into his gauntlet, the screen displaying data from the blood sample he had taken earlier. His voice, when it came, was calm and measured. “Or they stumbled upon it through exposure to some long-dead fragment of humanity. The galaxy is vast, Brother. Strands of the Emperor’s light touch even the darkest corners, but not all endure.”

“Even so,” Locari said, his tone resolute, “if this empire represents the height of their civilization, it may hold the technology or resources we need to at the very least set up a distress beacon. We are not lost.”

Calsin tilted his helm slightly, the faint glow of his crimson visor reflecting off the swirling snow. “Not lost,” he agreed, “but displaced. Do not let hope blind you, Locari. It is a blade with no edge.”

“Hope is what separates us from those devoid of His light,” Locari countered. “It binds us to Him.”

Calsin let out a quiet, static-laden snort. “Duty binds us. Hope is the indulgence of mortals.”

When the city came into full view, both marines paused. The crystalline structures shimmered in the moonlight, their translucent forms reflecting a faint inner glow. Streets wound through the city in symmetrical patterns, leading to a towering castle at its center.

“Curious,” Calsin remarked, his gaze sweeping over the alien city. “A civilization built of light and glass, yet defended only by spears and flesh.”

Locari regarded the castle at the city’s heart, gleaming faintly. “It is a poor fortress. A hive spire noble might accept such grandeur, but it will shatter like all the rest.” He glanced at Calsin. “Queren’s signal is strongest there, isn’t it?”

Calsin nodded, his crimson lenses narrowing as he focused on his cogitator. “Yes. The beacon is strong here. We are nearing them.”

His gaze settled on the castle at the city’s center. He would admit to Locari’s point that a hive city noble would enjoy such a design on their spire peaks. He moved his arm, activating his cogitator, and watched as the signal displayed on its small screen aligned with their destination.

Queren’s signal was here. Procuran would undoubtedly be with him. The realization set his thoughts into motion. It seemed that the rulers of this place had taken an interest in their kind. A misstep on their part, as far as Calsin was concerned.

He looked to the castle again, his thoughts laced with a faint trace of sarcasm. It seems we have an audience with nobility, he thought. How quaint.

Locari felt a hint of nostalgia from the sight before him. The crystalline city, for all its alien wrongness, bore a strange beauty under the faint moonlight. He crept alongside his fellow warrior, readying himself to bring crumbling down all the enemy held dear. It reminded of the many campaigns he fought—brothers by his side, the righteous fire of the Emperor’s will guiding his every step. He had been forged for this, molded in blood and duty, and tempered by the lessons of countless battles.

But this was different.

His grip tightened on Procuran’s chainsword, its weight unfamiliar in his hand, not because it was cumbersome but because it wasn’t his. This was a relic of their chapter, a weapon that had cleaved through heretics and xenos under the hand of greater warriors. Locari felt unworthy of it. Procuran’s death—his brothers’ deaths—gnawed at Locari’s mind like a wound that refused to heal.

His thoughts flickered back to the days before this nightmare. The chapter halls, the sermons of Chaplain Hadranatis, Searvus, Therian, the stories told of their ancients with reverence and awe. Those were memories he held onto tightly, and ones he believed he would make more of. He thought of the brothers who had stood with him then, their voices raised in prayer, their hands clasped in mutual faith. If he listened closely, he could almost hear them.

Locari knew his belief they could return was hopeful at best, but he held firm to it. He shared Calsin’s belief on the matter—their survival was a fluke—but he would not accept that, not entirely. For them to have survived the Warp could only be by the Emperor’s will. What else could explain how he and his brother still stood? What could explain the absurd chances that had happened for them to be yanked away from certain death by fools deserving of said death?

He held hope, hope that the Emperor had sent him here so that this world would face the judgment of His Angels.

His gaze flicked to Calsin. The older marine moved with the precise, unyielding efficiency of a veteran who had long since abandoned the luxury of hope. Calsin had never voiced it, but Locari could see the resignation in his every step. He didn’t share Locari’s faith that they could return.

Locari respected that, even admired it in some ways. But he couldn’t let himself fall into that same abyss. Someone among them had to believe that the Emperor had a plan for them, even here, even now. That Locari was certain of.

Bodies of those unfortunate enough to stumble upon the two Space Marines lay still in their wake. Snow had given way to fresh grass, freezing temperatures to a cool breeze, and empty mountains to glowing streets alive with activity.

Calsin and Locari moved silently through the city, the faint hum of the ongoing celebration filling the air around them. Laughter and chatter drifted through the streets, muted by the architecture. It was clear the celebration was nearing its end. The youngest of the xenos had long since retired, leaving only adults wandering the streets, their crystalline forms shimmering faintly under the moon.

The marines kept to the shadows. They stuck to alleyways and dark corners, their towering forms did little to help them blend in, but both marines were more than experienced for the task. The faint sound of music echoed from the central plaza, a distant melody filled with joy.

Locari's visor scanned the streets ahead, his heightened senses ensuring they remained unseen. He glanced toward a group of xenos passing through the street, their demeanor calm and their guard nonexistent. "They celebrate while our brothers lie dead within their walls," he murmured, his voice low and laced with disdain.

Calsin said nothing, his focus fixed on the castle looming in the distance. Its tip reached high into the night sky. His cogitator displayed Queren’s signal, originating from the higher levels of the castle. Each step closer tightened the urgency building in his chest.

The two marines paused in the shadow of a larger structure, the noise of the celebration slightly louder now. Locari tilted his head, his grip tightening on Procuran’s chainsword. From their view point, they could see the edges of the plaza, where groups of xenos mingled around tables and decorations. Some sang, others danced, their movements fluid and free, free of the years burdens.

Locari turned his gaze back to the castle, its shimmering walls reflecting the faint glow of the city. “If this Crystal Heart the xeno spoke of exists, it's likely within the castle,” he said, focusing on the thing standing at the center of the celebration, floating on a podium. It was heart shaped. “Or perhaps not.”

Calsin had noticed the floating crystal as well. “If this artifact is so important to them, I doubt they'd leave it exposed. It should be somewhere inside the castle.”

Locari shifted slightly, scanning for patrols or any sign of resistance; there was little. The xenos were either entirely complacent or confident that their celebration would not be disturbed. “How do you propose we proceed?” he asked as he watched the celebration.

Calsin considered the question, his gaze lingering on the castle. “We need a distraction to draw their attention. Their defenses are lax, but that will change the moment they realize we are here. If the xeno was right, we will have a hundred and likely more bearing down on us.”

Locari tilted his head, a faint smirk forming beneath his helmet. “And you want me to be that distraction?”

“You will draw them to you,” Calsin said simply. “Make enough noise to hold their attention. You are to keep them occupied for as long as necessary. Bash through their doors and meet them head on, cleave your way through their castle walls.”

Locari regarded the castle entrance, where the pairs of guards continued their idle watch. “And should they bring their full strength against me?”

Calsin’s voice didn’t falter. “You show them the strength of His Angels is greater.”

Locari smirked, the faint hum of his chainsword activating in anticipation. “They will know His wrath,” he said, rising to his full height and stepping toward the main thoroughfare. He turned to face Calsin one more time, and spoke with a solemn weight to his words. “Grant them peace, Brother.”

Calsin looked to Locari, nodding with resolve. “It is my duty.”

Locari stepped out from the shadows, his massive form illuminated by the faint glow of the crystalline streets. The hum of celebration filled the air, but his presence began to draw attention. He noted that Calsin had already disappeared into the night, moving to circle the castle and reach the other side undetected.

There was no need for subtlety here. Locari strode forward, letting the thud of his ceramite boots echo ominously through the plaza. A small group of ponies, their laughter trailing off as they noticed him, froze in place. Their crystalline coats shimmered under the soft lights, and their eyes widened in terror as they realized what approached.

Locari did not waste time. His chainsword roared to life with a deafening snarl, the serrated teeth spinning hungrily. In one brutal arc, he cleaved through the group before they could even cry out, the blade carving through flesh and crystal with ease. The air filled with the sickening sound of rending bodies, and blood dripped from the teeth of the weapon, pooling beneath him.

For a moment, the plaza was still, the music and laughter silenced. All eyes were now firmly fixed on him.

Locari allowed a moment of quiet to stretch, savoring the fear that radiated from the xenos. Then he raised his voice, the vox amplifying his words into a booming proclamation that echoed across the city.

"Hear me, xeno scum!" his voice thundered, reverberating through the crystalline streets. "I am Locari Venathor, Angel of the Emperor, warrior of the Cuprum Lords! I have come to bring His judgment down upon you vile abominations. Look upon me, creatures, and know the hour of your reckoning is at hand! Your homes, your peace, your pitiful existence—all will be reduced to ash in the face of His wrath! Awaken your rulers, raise your guards, and flee in terror, for on this night, your empire dies!"

Princess Cadence stood on the balcony of the Crystal Castle, watching over the plaza below with a soft smile. She had tried and failed to sleep, so instead settled with watching the festivities with a serene smile. The celebration had entered its peaceful later hours. The music had softened to a gentle melody, and the ponies moved in smaller groups, sharing quiet conversations. The sight warmed her heart, a welcome moment of serenity after a year filled with countless responsibilities.

Her peaceful thoughts were interrupted by a distant, mechanical roar that cut through the night air. She blinked, her ears swiveling toward the sound. A flicker of movement caught her eye—a towering figure striding through the plaza. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the shape.

A giant. Alive.

Her eyes widened in shock and terror as she saw it strike. The monster raised its weapon—a churning blade that snarled like a beast—and swept it through a group of ponies. Blood sprayed into the air as their bodies collapsed lifelessly to the ground. The plaza erupted into screams, ponies scattering in all directions as the giant turned its glowing red gaze upon them.

“No…” Cadence whispered, her heart pounding in her chest, she could hear it shouting to her ponies. She spun around, rushing back into the castle. Her hooves echoed against the crystalline floor as she burst into the royal chambers, where Shining Armor lay in a peaceful slumber.

“Shining!” she cried, shaking him awake. “Wake up! It’s one of the giants! It’s alive—it’s here!”

Shining Armor’s eyes lazily opened. “What?” he said with sleep still lingering, sitting up slowly. “What do you mean, a giant? The one from Silverton?”

“No, another one,” Cadence said, her voice trembling. “It’s in the plaza—it’s killing our ponies!”

Shining Armor’s eyes snapped open, jaw tightened, his expression hardening as he bolted from the bed. “Get the guards,” he said sharply. “We need everypony mobilized. I’ll deal with this.”

As Cadence turned to leave, Shining Armor’s voice called after her. “And Cadence, Flurry—”

“I know,” Cadence said, already running down the hall. She stopped a guard stationed near the royal chambers. “Find Flurry Heart and take her somewhere safe. Do not let her out of your sight until I tell you otherwise.”

The guard saluted, his face pale but determined. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Cadence paused, taking a steadying breath before racing through the castle. Her heart ached for her people, for the ponies now screaming in terror in the plaza below. But there was no time for hesitation. Her ponies needed her.

The city hummed with faint music and quiet laughter moments ago, but now chaos reigned. Ponies scattered in all directions, the sounds of celebration replaced by screams and panicked cries. Shining Armor had barely managed to bark an order before the hulking intruder struck again. Its roaring blade cleaved through a group of guards with terrifying ease, sending blood and gore spraying across the crystalline plaza. The weapon—if it could even be called that—spat viscera as the giant marched forward. Locari advanced through the chaos with deliberate intent, his heavy footfalls echoing like the toll of a death knell. He let them see him, he gave them time to make their formations; he needed all of their attention on him alone, and that's exactly what he got.

The Royal Guard, despite their fears, fought hard. Groups of Pegasi swooped down from above, their spears aimed for—what they could determine—were gaps in his armor. Locari tracked their movements, his enhanced senses making their attempts to confuse or outpace him null, he could tell a change in direction or speed before their wings finished the act. A Pegasus dove too close, its spear glinting in the dim light. With a single motion, Locari’s gauntlet caught the shaft mid-thrust, pulling it back and causing the pony to slam their head into his pauldron. The pegasus dropped like a stone, its wings fluttering weakly before going still.

Another Pegasus came at him from behind, but Locari’s helmet sensors tracked the movement before it could close the distance. He turned sharply, grabbing the flier by its hind legs and swinging it into a nearby wall with enough force to shatter bone and crystal alike. The body crumpled into the wreckage, bone jutting out at awkward angles.

“Focus your attacks!” a Unicorn guard shouted, his horn glowing. “Don’t let him pick us off!”

Locari’s helm locked onto the speaker, analyzing the glowing horn. Magic. Psyker filth. He felt a faint tug at his legs as the Unicorn attempted to root him in place with its sorcery. The effort was fruitless. Locari’s muscles tensed, his armor servos groaning as he took a deliberate step forward, breaking the spell’s grip with ease. The Unicorn’s eyes widened in terror as Locari closed the distance in three massive strides. His chainsword roared to life, and with a single sweep, the blade tore through the guard’s torso. Blood sprayed across the street, the Unicorn’s body collapsing in two pieces and gore spilling from the fresh openings.

Other guards hesitated, Unicorn horns flickering as they reconsidered their attacks. Locari gave them no time to regroup. He turned his gaze to a pile of rubble nearby, augmented strength allowing him to hurl a large chunk of debris toward a cluster of unicorns. The improvised projectile struck with devastating force, the weight caving in helmets and crushing ribs. Screams filled the air as the survivors scrambled and limped away.

The guards adapted quickly. A group of earth ponies charged from his left flank, coordinated as they moved in unison. They carried enchanted ropes, their intent clear: to bind his limbs and bring him down through sheer force. Locari waited for them to close the distance, feigning a slower reaction as he assessed their tactic. When they were mere feet away, he surged forward with blinding speed, his massive frame colliding with the lead pony. The impact crumpled the leader's spine. Before the rest could recover, his chainsword descended, cutting through armor, flesh, and bone. One pony managed to rise, his face a mask of defiance and tossing aside survival bucked the Astartes leg plate; Locari felt it—a little. Locari grabbed him by the throat, lifting him high before slamming him into the ground.

From above, another group of Pegasi attempted to capitalize on the opening, diving with spears aimed for his exposed joints. Locari shifted his stance, raising his pauldron to absorb the strikes. The spears glanced off, and with a single upward swing of his chainsword, he cleaved through two of the attackers mid-flight, leaving a small trail of spilled innards. The third hesitated, a fatal mistake. Locari’s bolt pistol barked, the explosive round tearing through the Pegasus’s chest and sending them plummeting to the ground in hefty chunks.

He heard flapping wings behind him, Locari facing his pauldron to another two Pegasi diving towards him. They struck him with hooves, surprising Locari as the force was felt through his armor, even pushing his foot back an inch. What surprised him more was their still whole limbs.

Before they could dart away he cleaved one through, the other’s eyes widened as they tried flapping away. He grabbed its tail, the wings flapping widely to escape, another second and the Astartes slammed it beneath his boot and stomped. He tossed the headless body at another building, the force letting the wall crumble over the fresh corpse.

“Unicorns, together!” a guard called, his horn glowing as he rallied his comrades. “We can stop him if we work as one!”

The remaining unicorns formed a loose semicircle, their horns glowing in unison as they cast a coordinated spell. Locari felt the telltale pressure of their immobilization sorcery, his limbs slowing as the combined magic took hold. His armor servos strained against the force, his muscles beginning to ache as he fought to maintain control. For a brief moment, the unicorns’ efforts seemed to work. Locari’s movements slowed to a crawl, his frame locked in place.

Locari, for a moment, could see the field of magic dispelling around the scripture of his left vambrace.

Sweat dripped from the Unicorns’ brows as they poured more power into the spell. One of them dared to smile, believing they had finally halted the unstoppable juggernaut.

Then Locari’s bolt pistol rose, inch by agonizing inch, its barrel leveling at the nearest Unicorn. The guard’s smile vanished, replaced by wide-eyed panic. Before Locari could fire, a brilliant beam of magic struck him from the side. The spell hit with the force of a battering ram, launching Locari across the plaza. His massive form crashed through a fountain, shattering the crystalline structure before skidding to a halt.

Locari sneered as he pushed himself up from the shattered remnants of the fountain, crystalline fragments falling onto his armor then bouncing off. The armor's shock absorbers and his Astarte physiology ensured he was unharmed, but the sheer force of the magical beam that struck him was unlike anything he had encountered thus far. His eyes focused on the source: a horned and winged abomination, her wings spread wide as she hovered above the battlefield, her horn glowing with unholy energy. The light of the Crystal Heart shimmered faintly behind her, framing her in a regalness he assumed was accurate.

Beside and below her, a male clad in armor stepped forward, his white coat marred with sweat. Shining Armor’s horn flared with defensive magic, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto Locari with outrage. His voice carried across the battlefield with authority. “You will not harm another of our ponies. Not while we stand.”

Locari analyzed the pair in an instant. The pink one was likely the more dangerous of the two—her earlier strike had proven that—but the males barriers were formidable. Together, they posed a legitimate threat, one he could not dismiss as mere bravado. For the first time in the battle, Locari felt the faintest flicker of acknowledgment: these two were no mere pests. They were something that could best him, true threats.

Still, they were xenos, and they must die.

Cadence descended, her hooves touching the ground as she surveyed the carnage. Her heart clenched at the sight of her guards—those still standing, spread a distance around the Crystal Heart, their morale hanging by a thread. Her horn flared, casting a soothing wave of magic that bolstered their spirits, mending minor wounds and infusing them with newfound courage. She turned her gaze to Locari, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. “Stop this at once! Surrender!”

Locari didn’t respond. He had no reason to humor them. Instead, he raised his bolt pistol and fired, the explosive round streaking toward Cadence. A shimmering barrier sprung to life in front of her, Shining Armor’s magic absorbing the impact. The detonation sent a shockwave rippling through the plaza, but the barrier held firm.

Before Locari could rise another barrier surrounded him. He struck against it, his sword's teeth failing to break through, even a bolt round failed.

Shining Armor frowned, his confidence bolstered. “You’ll find we’re not as easy to break as you think.”

Locari took only an instant to think, unstrapping his Bolt Rifle, aiming it at the magic before him. Flicking it to full auto a torrent of rounds blasted the field, cracking it faster than it could replenish. Shining looked in surprise as the barrier became loose shard and quickly formed another for himself as round hurled his way.

Locari moved, his massive frame a blur as he dashed to the side, using the rubble-strewn battlefield to his advantage. He was testing them now, probing for weaknesses. He fired again—relying once more on his pistol, his rifle put away again—this time at Shining, but the stallion’s barrier expanded to shield not only himself but the guards behind him. Locari’s eyes narrowed. The unicorn was skilled, his barriers adapting with impressive speed.

Cadence’s horn glowed brighter, and she fired another beam of magic. Locari dodged with unnatural agility, his transhuman speed carrying him out of its path. The beam struck a building behind him, slicing clean through the structure and sending it collapsing into a cloud of dust and debris. Locari used the chaos to reposition, his towering frame vanishing into the smoke.

“He’s hiding,” Shining muttered, his horn glowing as he reinforced his barriers. “We need to keep him in the open.”

Cadence nodded, her wings flaring as she took to the air. “I’ll flush him out. Keep the guards protected!” Her horn lit up, and a wave of magic swept through the plaza, clearing the dust and revealing Locari’s position. He was already on the move, sprinting toward another group of guards near the Heart.

“No!” Cadence shouted, firing another beam of magic. Locari anticipated the attack, diving behind a collapsed wall as the spell scorched the ground where he had been. He emerged on the other side, his bolt pistol raised. The guards scrambled to form a barrier, but they were too slow. A single shot obliterated their defenses, and Locari was upon them.

Before he could strike, Shining Armor’s magic flared, a dome of light enveloping the guards and pulling them out of Locari’s reach. “You’re not touching them!” Shining roared, stepping forward to confront the marine directly.

Locari pivoted, his chainsword roaring to life as he charged. Shining’s barrier met the blade, sparks flying as the weapon’s teeth ground against the magical surface. The shield held, but the strain was evident in Shining’s gritted teeth. Locari pressed harder, his strength threatening to shatter the barrier through sheer force.

“Now!” Cadence yelled, diving from above. Her horn blazed as she unleashed a cascade of crystalline shards, each infused with magic. The projectiles rained down on Locari, forcing him to disengage and evade. Several shards struck his armor, chipping the ceramite but failing to penetrate. He felt the distant hint that something struck and passed the undersuit.

Locari switched tactics, using his speed and bulk to stay one step ahead of their combined assault. He hurled a chunk of rubble at Cadence, forcing her to shield herself and momentarily breaking her line of sight. Turning his focus to Shining, Locari charged again, this time feinting a strike with his chainsword that the pony made a shield to block, Locari immediately aiming his bolt pistol at the exposed side.

The round struck Shining’s hastily made barrier, exploding with enough force to send the Unicorn skidding backward. The shield flickered but held, Shining pouring more magic into it despite the strain.

It’s too fast, Cadence thought, her wings flapping as she circled above. She fired another beam, this one aimed to cut off Locari’s path. The marine anticipated her move, diving into a roll and emerging behind a crumbling wall. He fired at her from cover, the explosive rounds forcing her to conjure a barrier, the force pushing her back.

Shining seized the opportunity to rally the remaining Unicorn guards. “Focus your magic on slowing him down!” The Unicorns nodded, their horns glowing as they cast a coordinated immobilization spell. Locari made for cover but felt the tainted pressure grip his limbs, his movements slowing as the magic took hold. He strained against it, his muscles and servos pushing to their limits.

Cadence joined the effort, her horn glowing as she added her power to the spell. For a moment, it seemed they had him. Locari’s limbs shook, his motion reduced to a crawl. But even as the spell took hold, his thoughts were focused. With a tremendous effort, he raised his bolt pistol, aiming at the nearest Unicorn.

“No!” Cadence shouted, breaking away from the spell to fire a beam of magic. It struck Locari in the side, sending him sprawling across the plaza. The impact left a crater, but the marine rose almost instantly.

Locari felt the heat of the hot ceramite trying to reach him. He couldn't allow another blow like that, he can’t guess how many more his armor will take.

He moved again, faster this time, using the rubble again for cover and obscurement. He shifted foes, targeting the Unicorns one by one to prevent another coordinated spell. He didn't need bolt rounds, relying on small—for him—chunks of crystal, tossing them fast enough to maim.

Most were stopped by Shining’s magic, but one by one a throw would escape past him. Shining would keep losing sight as Locari ran as fast as he could manage, then stopping to throw another bit of rubble at any vulnerable guard.

Shining gaze shot around, desperately trying to keep sight of the monster. In doing this he got a better look at the carnage. He was running out of troops, Pegasi stopped taking to the skies, knowing they'd be struck down moments later, Earth Ponies dwindled in number—he had the suspicion a few ran and Unicorns were now being targeted.

He didn't know if they still had enough Unicorns to try another immobilizing spell. Cadence had the magic for it but the beast made sure to keep her focus on protecting. Shining knew if they kept this up it would only insure more guards deaths.

Locari shot out of cover again, Shining had almost managed to try catching the Astartes in another barrier, but he was too swift, flicking a pebble with enough force to gouge into a pony's eye, leaving them wailing on the ground.

The monster darted back into rubble. Shining knew this was his chance.

“Everpony! To the Heart!” He yelled, placing himself in front to ensure the rest made it. He grabbed the now one-eyed pony, tossing them as gently as he could manage under the castle.

Cadence dove from the sky, her wings folding tightly against her sides as she descended rapidly. The ground approached quickly, but she landed gracefully beside Shining Armor, her hooves skidding slightly. Her horn glowed immediately as she conjured a protective shield to intercept a stray chunk of debris thrown by the giant.

“Cadence!” Shining shouted, his expression a mix of relief and urgency. “We can’t keep this up much longer!”

“I know!” she replied breathlessly, her horn sparking as she focused her magic. She raised a series of jagged crystals from the ground, their sharp edges forming a barrier between the intruder and the remaining guards. The crystals shimmered faintly in the plaza’s glow, their magic radiating outward.

It formed a physical barrier, making a wide circle covering the plaza. It would slow the giant down, hopefully, just long enough to think of a solution.

“It’s cutting down our ponies,” Shining said, his voice tight with worry.

Cadence gritted her teeth, her horn flaring as she cast another spell, protecting a pulling what few remained quicker to the castle. “We use the Crystal Heart.”

Shining turned to her, his eyes wide. “Are you sure? It’s not—”

“We don’t have a choice!” Cadence cut him off, her voice resolute. “Our magic isn’t enough and we’re losing too much. We need to stop it before our ponies' despair is too great. We need the Heart, its power can overwhelm it.”

Shining hesitated for only a moment before nodding, his resolve hardening. Together, their horns glowed as they poured their magic into a new barrier. A shimmering dome of pink and blue energy expanded outward, encasing the remaining guards, the Crystal Heart, and themselves beneath the castle’s shadow. The barrier hummed with raw magical energy, its surface rippling as it absorbed the blows of the giant’s relentless assault.

Shining turned to the guards inside the dome, his voice firm and commanding. “All unicorns, to me! Add your magic to the barrier. Strengthen it as much as you can!”

The unicorn guards hesitated for only a moment before moving to his side. Their horns lit up one by one, adding their power to the barrier. The dome grew brighter, its surface stabilizing as the combined magic reinforced it.

Cadence took a deep breath, her wings fluttering slightly as she steadied herself. “That—should hold him for now,” she said, her voice quieter but no less determined. “But it won’t last forever.”

Shining nodded, his gaze fixed on the giant outside the barrier. The monster paced like a predator, his crimson lenses glowing ominously as he studied the dome. The roaring teeth of his chainsword bit into the barrier again and again, sending ripples of energy across its surface. Each strike caused the dome to shimmer and dim momentarily, but it held.

Both of them knew that with all their ponies scattered and afraid, channeling the Crystal Heart’s power would take time. They need to keep the monster back for as long as they possibly can.

“For now is all we need,” Shining said, his voice grim.

Outside the barrier, Locari regarded the shimmering dome with a mixture of intrigue and irritation. The xenos’ sorcery had proven resilient, but he could see its flaws—the way it wavered under the impact of his chainsword, the strain visible on their faces as they channeled their power. He knew it was only a matter of time before it collapsed.

His chainsword roared again as he swung it down, the blade grinding against the magical surface of the barrier. Sparks flew as the weapon’s teeth bit into the energy, but the dome remained intact. Locari tilted his head slightly, observing the way the magic reacted to his assault. They were clever, these xenos.

“Stall me all you want,” he said, loud enough for all of them to hear, his voice distorted through his vox. “It won’t change your fate.”

Inside the barrier, Cadence and Shining exchanged a glance. Their horns glowed brightly as they continued to pour their magic into the dome, their combined power keeping the Crystal Heart and their guards safe for now.

The barrier trembled under another earth-shaking blow from Locari’s chainsword. The roaring teeth of the weapon ground against the magical shield, sending ripples of strain through the guards and unicorns channeling their power into it. Cadence could feel the weakening pulses in the magic as the shield wavered, the collective effort of her ponies beginning to falter under the unrelenting assault.

Her heart sank as she turned to the exhausted faces of her ponies. Their horns flickered, their legs trembling as they poured the last of their strength into holding the barrier. Shining Armor was no exception; his shield spells were steady but smaller now, the toll of constant renewal evident in the beads of sweat on his brow.

Cadence clenched her teeth, her mind racing. They couldn’t hold much longer. The giant’s raw strength would eventually break through, and when it did, there would be nothing to stop him from reaching them.

Unless… She shuddered at the thought forming in her mind. There was one option, but it was risky. If she could stall him, distract him long enough for the Crystal Heart to be ready, they might stand a chance.

Taking a steadying breath, Cadence stepped forward, keeping her magic flowing into the barrier. Her hooves felt heavy as she approached the edge of the glowing dome, every step drawing her closer to the towering figure outside. Her dread gnawed at her resolve, but she pushed it down. She had to be strong. For her ponies.

Stopping just shy of the barrier’s edge, she craned her neck upward to face the giant. He loomed over her, his chainsword humming with restrained power as he prepared another strike. She swallowed hard, then shouted.

“Stop!” she called out, her voice carrying through the castle underside. “Stop this madness!”

To her surprise, the giant paused, lowering his weapon slightly. His crimson lenses fixed on her, unblinking and intense. The sheer presence of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, but she maintained a strong face regardless.

For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the barrier and the faint hum of his chainsword. Then, the giant spoke, his voice was dreadfully calm, distorted through his helmet’s vox. “You speak to stall me, xeno.”

Cadence’s heart pounded in her chest, but she held her ground. “Please,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Why are you doing this? My ponies have done nothing to you or your kind. What purpose does this destruction serve?”

The giant tilted his head slightly, a motion that seemed almost curious. “Your kind defiled my brothers,” he said, the accusation laced with venom. “You desecrated their remains, touched what was sacred. For that, you will die alongside your rotten kin.”

Cadence’s breath caught. The two armored giants—the lifeless forms in the castle hospital—this was about them. “We didn’t know,” she said quickly. “We didn’t understand what they were. We didn’t mean to desecrate anything. We hoped to understand them, then put them to rest!”

“Intent is meaningless,” Locari replied coldly. “The Emperor’s judgement is absolute.”

Cadence flinched at his tone but pressed on, her mind racing. She needed to keep him talking, keep him distracted. “If this Emperor of yours values justice, then let us prove our intentions. We meant no harm. We can… return what remains of your brothers to you.”

Locari’s crimson lenses bore into her, unyielding. He knew what she was doing. This xeno thought it could buy time with words, stall him with its pleas. He would play along.

“Your offers mean nothing,” Locari said, his tone almost dismissive. “You seek to delay your fate. But I will indulge you, if only to see what lies you’ll weave next.”

Cadence took a steadying breath. He was listening—at least for now. “We don’t want bloodshed,” she said, her voice firm despite the quiver in her wings. “We can coexist. There’s no need for this violence. Look around you. These are families, friends—mothers, fathers, children. They’re not this enemy you believe them to be. They’re innocent.”

Locari let out a sound, something between a scoff and a snort. “Coexist? Your kind would sully this galaxy with your filth, more than it is already. There is no coexistence. There is only His Imperium.”

“What will this accomplish?” she asked. “Killing us won’t bring your brothers back. It won’t undo what’s been done.”

“It will bring retribution,” Locari said simply. “And that is enough.”

Her heart ached as she looked into the glowing crimson of his visor, the unwavering conviction in his voice sending a chill through her. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t listen. But she had to keep trying.

The barrier trembled ever slightly, but Cadence stood firm, her horn glowing brighter as she funneled her magic into maintaining the shield. Behind her, Shining Armor and the guards redoubled their efforts, their magic bolstered by her courage.

“Your Emperor… would he truly want this? What kind of justice is there in this horrible act?” she asked, desperation creeping into her voice. “Would he want you to slaughter innocent ponies?”

Locari’s response was swift and short. “Yes.”

Cadence bit back a retort, her mind racing. She had to stall him, had to keep him talking. Every second she bought was a second closer to the Heart reaching its full potential. But with each word he spoke, her hope waned, the cold reality of his fanaticism crushing her spirit.

Locari observed Cadence carefully, the subtle tremor in her voice, the way she tried to mask her dread behind a facade of courage. To him, it was almost amusing. This xeno—a witch as far as he was concerned—was attempting to negotiate with him, an Angel of Death, a servant of the Emperor.

The faint hum of his chainsword died down as he tilted his head slightly, feigning consideration. Then his vox crackled to life, his voice carrying a mocking tone beneath the metallic distortion.

“A negotiation?” he asked, his crimson lenses locking onto her with predatory intent. “Very well, xeno. I will lay down my terms.” He lowered himself to one knee, his knee plate thudding loud against the hard ground, he lowered the tip of the chainsword to the ground, his hand resting on the flipped handle.

He leaned forward slightly, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her as the barrier glowed faintly between them. The pause was deliberate, designed to make her squirm.

“Order your men, your women, your children,” he continued, his voice low and venomous, “to lay down their arms and accept their deaths. And I will make yours painless.”

The words hung in the air, dripping with cold finality. Locari’s grip on the chainsword tightened ever so slightly, the weight of his words pressing down on all who could hear. He wasn’t expecting her to comply, of course. He knew what she was doing—But he could play this game just as well as she could.

Cadence swallowed hard, the cold edges of his terms cutting through her resolve. Her eyes darted to the barrier, then to the ponies behind her—her guards, her subjects, her people—Shining. Her heart ached as she saw their faces, their exhaustion, their fear. She could feel the barrier tremble under their collective strain, and she knew they couldn’t hold forever.

“May I…” she began, hesitating for a moment before mustering her courage. “May I know your name?”

Locari tilted his head slightly, the motion slow and deliberate. “My name?” he repeated, his vox-modulated voice low and grating. “Why would you want to know the name of your reaper?”

Cadence held her ground, despite the chill that ran down her spine at his words. “Because I see more than just a weapon before me,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the knot of fear in her chest. “A name has meaning. It tells a story, it shows who you are. Surely even you, warrior, have more to you than just death and destruction.”

Locari stared at her in silence, the glowing eyes of his helm unflinching. Then, with a faint edge of mockery, he said, “You first.”

She hesitated, then spoke with quiet dignity. “I am Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, ruler of the Crystal Empire.”

There was a long pause, and then Locari’s voice came again, sharper, colder. “Locari Venathor,” he said, each word deliberate, as though carving them into stone. “Angel of the Emperor, warrior of the Cuprum Lords, your executioner.”

The final title hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Cadence swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. “Locari…” she said softly, tasting the name, anchoring herself to the living person it represented. “May I… see your face?”

Locari didn’t move, and for a moment she thought he might ignore her entirely. Then he took a step forward, his massive frame looming over her as he spoke. “You think this face will give you your desire?” he asked, his tone sharp with disbelief. “You think seeing the man beneath the helm will somehow delay your fate?”

“I don’t know,” Cadence admitted, her voice softer now. “But I need to try. There is something alive beneath that terrible armor—I can feel it. I need to know who it is I’m speaking to.”

Locari regarded her for a long, tense moment. Slowly, he raised his gauntleted hands, the hiss of the seal breaking the silence as he unlocked his helm. The motion was deliberate, almost ceremonial. He lifted the helm free and lowered it to his side, revealing his face to the princess.

Cadence blinked in surprise. His features were sharp and sun-kissed, his bronze skin tanned from a life spent under the sun. His eyes were light brown, piercing and intense, set beneath dark brows that furrowed slightly as he regarded her. His hair was black and long enough to brush the edge of his neck guard, parted neatly at the sides. A faint scar carved through his lower lip, the only visible mark of the battles he must have endured.

“Satisfied, Cadenza?” he asked, her name rolling off his tongue with a faint, mocking edge.

She stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. He looked alive, more living than she had expected, but there was something about him that felt… distant. She saw no love in his eyes, no true happiness, just a pit of contempt.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said quietly.

Before Cadence could say more, a panicked shout broke through the tense exchange.

“Your Highness!”

Cadence turned sharply to see a guard stumbling from the castle entrance, his crystalline armor scuffed and battered. He dashed toward the protective barrier, his face pale with fear.

“What is it?” Shining Armor demanded, his horn glowing as he maintained the shield around them.

The guard’s breath came in ragged gasps as he skidded to a halt. “Flurry Heart… she’s not in her room. We’ve searched the nearby halls, but there’s no sign of her. The remaining guards are still looking, but we don’t know where she is.”

Cadence’s blood ran cold. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the barrier flickered under her strain. Shining’s face darkened, his jaw tightening as he poured more magic into stabilizing the shield, sweat dripping from his chin.

“Keep looking,” Shining ordered, his voice sharp and commanding. “Check every room, every corner. Find her, now!”

The guard saluted, turning and sprinting back into the castle. Cadence and Shining exchanged a brief, desperate glance before her attention flickered back to Locari.

Locari’s gaze was fixed on her, his face unreadable. He had heard enough to know something significant had occurred, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He simply stood there, watching, waiting, as though savoring the cracks beginning to show in their resolve.

Calsin’s armored form ascended with a calculated grace, hidden by the balcony’s shadow. His gauntlets gripped into the crystal of the castle where he could find no other leverage, each movement precise and silent. The climb had been uneventful, no sign of detection from the xenos below. They were all occupied with Locari, as intended.

As he reached the edge, Calsin swung himself over the railing, landing quietly on the balcony floor, a testament to the genius that went into the Corvus pattern design. He paused, his crimson visor scanning the area as he activated his auspex. The device emitted a faint hum, its sensors sweeping the room beyond the door. Clear. Satisfied, he approached the entrance and pushed it open, his massive frame barely fitting through the ornate doorway.

Inside, the atmosphere was eerily still. The room was spacious, the only light coming from the moon. At its center, laid reverently upon raised platforms, were the still forms of Queren and Procuran.

Calsin stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking onto his fallen brothers. For a moment, he allowed himself to stand in silence, taking in the sight. Queren’s armor was battered and rent, his helm removed to reveal a face marred by the toll of battle. His expression was serene, almost as if he had fallen asleep. Procuran, however, bore wounds far more brutal. His once-pristine armor, now battered and near ruined, told the story of his final moments.

Calsin stepped forward, his heavy boots echoing faintly in the quiet chamber. He stopped at the edge of the platform, lowering himself to one knee. His hands rested on the edge, and he bowed his head in silent reverence.

“Brothers.” he murmured in greeting, his voice low and heavy.

He reached for Queren first, his servo-arms extending to delicately remove the insignias and purity seals still affixed to the battered armor, he made sure to take the bolter beside Queren and the ammunition that fed it. These would not remain here, in the hands of aliens. They were sacred, belonging to the chapter and no one else. Each seal was placed carefully into a secured compartment on his armor, the bolter was locked to his free leg plate. He did the same to Procuran.

Next were the most prized adornments, the chains. Each link bore a name, etched into the metal—a silent testament to the brothers who had fallen before them, the inner core of each link filled with copper from Cupris, their home. Procuran’s armor was heavy with these chains, far more than Queren’s, draping his battered chest and shoulder like a shroud. The inscriptions gleamed faintly in the dim light, each name a reminder of sacrifice and service.

Carefully, Calsin began to remove the chains, his gauntleted hands moving with deliberate reverence. The soft clink of the links echoed in the quiet room as he laid them out, his eyes scanning each name. Brothers long gone, their memories carried by Procuran until his final moment. Queren’s chains, fewer but no less meaningful, were handled with the same care. Calsin clutched the gathered links for a moment, the weight of their legacy pressing into his hands. With silent resolve, he secured them within his armor.

As he worked, he muttered softly, reciting an ancient prayer of reclamation:

"Blessed be the warriors who fell in His name,
Their sacrifice eternal, their duty complete.
May their relics return to holy hands,
And their memory endure in the annals of the chapter.
By the Emperor’s will, we reclaim what is ours."

Calsin scanned the room once more with his auspex, ensuring the area was still clear. Satisfied, he turned to Queren’s still form and activated the chainblade of his Narthecium. The quiet hum of the blade filled the room as he began cutting into the chest plate to reach the Progenoid Gland. His movements were precise and skillful, from centuries of his profession.

As he worked, he allowed his thoughts to escape him, his voice barely audible within his helmet, his vox deactivated, ensuring only he could hear. “Queren,” he began, his tone steady but laced with the weight of loss. “You were loyal to the last. A warrior as resolute as they come. You stood where others would falter, even when the odds were beyond reckoning. But you deserved better—all of you did. A death worthy of song, not this… ignoble end on a unknown world.”

“I wish I could have traded places with one of you,” he said, his words barely above a whisper. “That my existence could have been the cost to save another. But…” He let out a faint, bitter exhale. “I can already hear Procuran berating me for such foolishness. Always so stalwart. He wouldn’t have allowed it. My survival was the mission, after all.”

Calsin paused for a moment, his eyes flicking toward Procuran’s still form. His servo-arm adjusted, finishing its work on Queren with mechanical precision. “You would have wanted us to endure. To keep the Chapter’s will alive, no matter what. Locari is doing exactly that, you know. He’s stayed strong, even in your absence. He carries your example like a banner, refusing to falter.”

His gaze dropped, the bitter edge to his voice softening as his tools dug deeper into Queren’s chest. “But I see the hope in his eyes, the way he speaks about returning to the Chapter. It’s almost… admirable. That he believes so strongly that there’s some sure way out of this place. That we can find a path back to where we belong.”

Calsin’s servo-arm whirred again, extracting the precious gland from Queren’s body. He held it carefully, cradling it as though it were the most sacred relic. “I understand his reasoning,” he admitted quietly, his voice edged with a grim resignation. ““But it blinds him. Keeps him from seeing the truth of this place.” His tone betrayed no anger or bitterness, only a stark acknowledgment of reality. “There is no way back; the galaxy does not grant reprieves. This is our end; we will die on this world.”

The gland came free at last, and Calsin held it for a moment in his gauntleted hand, the small, fragile organ seeming so out of place against the imposing backdrop of the room. He placed it in the containment vessel, the neck gland soon following, and exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He wished to give Queren his sermon, but he would need to wait just a moment longer. He stood and went to Procuran, kneeling beside him.

Calsin’s hand moved with precise care as the Nathecium’s chainblade hummed softly, carving through Procuran’s battered chest plate. He was immersed in his grim work, his focus absolute, when the faintest creak broke the silence. His entire body stilled.

The sound had come from the door.

In an instant, his hand darted to the handle of his still mag-locked plasma pistol, his senses sharpening. He cursed himself for the single moment of carelessness, allowing his awareness to lapse even slightly. His auspex flared to life, scanning the room’s entrance. The scan was clear, but what it showed left him momentarily perplexed.

A small, delicate form stood in the doorway.

Calsin turned his head slowly, his crimson lenses locking onto the figure that had entered. It was... a child. A young filly by the proportions of this xenos race. She was small—absurdly so—and yet she had managed to slip into the room unnoticed. How? He dismissed the question for now, focusing instead on the impossibility of what he saw.

The filly didn’t look afraid. She didn’t scream or cry. Instead, she stared at him with wide, curious eyes, her expression filled with wonder rather than terror. It was so incongruous, so alien to his expectations, that he found himself momentarily rigid.

The door creaked further open as the filly took a tentative step into the room, her small hooves clicking faintly against the crystal floor. Calsin’s plasma pistol remained mag-locked to his thigh, but his hand hovered over its grip. His mind churned through possibilities, none of them aligning with this strange encounter.

“Locari,” he voxed quietly, his voice low and controlled. “The rulers of this empire… what features do they bear?”

Locari’s response crackled through the vox with a faint note of confusion. “Wings and a horn, Brother. The witch has both. Why?”

Calsin’s gaze flicked back to the filly, noting the small wings tucked against her sides and the stubby horn atop her head. Realization dawned with clarity.

The child of the rulers.

His hand left the plasma pistol’s grip, and he turned back to his work. The Nathecium’s chainblade still whirred faintly in his hand, awaiting his next move.

“It is... late, young one,” Calsin said, his distorted voice reverberating through the room. He spoke haltingly, recalling with some difficulty the cadence of speech meant for children. It had been centuries since he had addressed one, and it was a human child.

“You should be in bed,” he added, his tone deliberate but devoid of overt hostility.

Calsin’s chainblade hummed softly as he resumed his work, carefully carving through Procuran’s chest plate. The filly remained by the door, her gaze fixed on him with a mix of curiosity and unease.

“What are you doing?” she asked suddenly, her voice high-pitched and soft, breaking the silence of the room.

Calsin froze for a moment, the unexpected question lingering in the air. He glanced toward her briefly, ensuring his movements were deliberate and non-threatening. “Tending to my fallen,” he said, his vox-modulated voice quieter than usual.

Her head tilted slightly, her curiosity growing. “Fallen? Are they… your friends?”

Calsin paused before answering, his gaze returning to Procuran’s lifeless form. “They are my brothers,” he said firmly. “We are bound by more than blood.”

The filly took a tentative step closer, her hooves clicking lightly on the crystal floor. “Are you helping them?”

Calsin’s lips pressed into a thin line beneath his helmet. He didn’t wish to frighten her, not yet. “In a way,” he said carefully. “It is… a sacred duty.”

The filly seemed to ponder his words, her small face scrunching with thought. Calsin could feel her eyes on him, watching his every move. He adjusted his posture slightly, ensuring his actions appeared methodical rather than hostile. To his surprise, she edged closer, her fear seemingly overtaken by her curiosity. His free hand, out of the filly’s sight prepared a serum with practised ease.

As he worked, he keyed his vox-link to Locari. “Brother,” he said quietly, ensuring his voice wouldn’t carry beyond the channel. “How fare the xenos?”

Locari’s response came through with a faint edge of frustration. “They’ve fortified themselves behind a barrier. It holds for now, but they cannot delay me forever.”

Calsin’s gaze flicked toward the filly again, who was now only a few steps away. An idea began to form in his mind, pragmatic and ruthless. “A barrier, you say,” he mused aloud, his tone giving nothing away. He took an operating tool, setting it near him on the ground.

“Yes. A shimmering wall of their foul sorcery, It slows my advance, but I can see their strength waning.”

Calsin’s gaze lingered on the filly. A child of the rulers, here by chance, unaware of her value. She might prove a useful tool, he thought, though he kept that to himself. “Understood,” he said simply before cutting the vox-link. He diluted the serum, it was meant for his kind, the full strength wouldn’t work.

The filly’s voice broke his thoughts. “What’s your name?” she asked, her tone less timid now.

Calsin turned his head toward her, his crimson lenses locking onto her wide, curious eyes. “Calsin Morvath,” he said after a brief pause, deciding there was little harm in the answer.

She hesitated, then pointed a hoof at Procuran. “And… his?”

Calsin clenched his jaw, the name of his fallen brother reverberating in his mind. “Brother-Sergeant Procuran Valthas,” he said reverently.

The filly took another step closer, emboldened by his calm demeanor. Calsin adjusted his movements further, ensuring every motion was slow and deliberate. “Why are you wearing all that?” she asked, motioning toward his armor. “It looks… heavy.”

“It is my shield,” he replied simply. “It protects me, just as I protect others.” The serum was loaded into a syringe, he picked the smallest he had available, meant for the eyes.

The filly’s face scrunched again, clearly trying to process his words. Calsin let her think, focusing once more on his task. As he carefully removed Procuran’s Progenoid Gland, he kept his movements precise, knowing the filly’s eyes were on him the entire time. He had to tread carefully—both with her and with the plan forming in his mind.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “You’re not here to hurt anyone… are you?”

Calsin’s gaze shifted to her, the hint of a faint smile almost forming beneath his helmet. “Not if I can help it,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, he wasn’t here to hurt, but it wasn’t a promise either.

Calsin carefully set the extracted Progenoid Gland aside, he only needed the neck gland now, his movements precise and deliberate. He turned his helmeted gaze to the filly, who had now inched close enough to touch the edge of the makeshift operating table. Her wide, curious eyes never left him.

“What is your name, young one?” he asked.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Flurry Heart,” she said, her voice small but clear.

Calsin regarded her for a moment, committing the name to memory. “And what brings you here, Flurry Heart? Why are you wandering the castle at this hour?”

Flurry shuffled her hooves, glancing down briefly before looking back up at him. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “And then… I heard noises outside. Lots of them. I looked outside, but I couldn’t see anything. Just ponies running around.” Her voice wavered slightly, her curiosity tempered by unease. “So I came to the other side of the castle to look from the balcony.”

Calsin processed her words, his mind working swiftly. He couldn’t allow her to suspect the truth, not yet. “The celebrations are still going,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “Perhaps the ponies you saw were part of that.”

Flurry tilted her head, doubt flickering across her face. “Celebrations? Still?”

“Yes,” Calsin said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It is a tradition among some to carry on their joy until dawn.” He gestured slightly toward the balcony. “Did you not hear the music?”

Flurry’s ears perked up, as if trying to catch the faint sounds of festivities. The plaza had grown quiet under Locari’s assault, but distant echoes of the initial celebration still lingered. She seemed to relax slightly, nodding. “I guess… maybe you’re right.”

Calsin gave a faint inclination of his head, satisfied with her acceptance of his explanation. He returned his attention to his work, carefully sealing the extracted gland and ensuring it was safely stored. Out of the corner of his vision, he noted Flurry stepping closer, her curiosity still unabated.

“What are you doing?” she asked again, her voice softer this time.

“Tending to my brothers,” Calsin replied, his answer deliberately vague but honest enough to satisfy her curiosity without frightening her.

Flurry nodded slowly, her wings twitching slightly at her sides. “Are they okay?” she asked, her tone laced with childlike concern.

Calsin hesitated, the weight of her question pressing against the truths he carried. He glanced at Procuran’s still form before speaking. “They are at peace,” he said..

Flurry seemed to accept the answer, her eyes drifting toward Procuran’s body. “They must have been very brave,” she said softly.

Calsin paused for a moment, his gauntleted hand resting on the floor. “They were,” he said, his voice carrying a note of reverence. “Braver than most.”

Flurry tilted her head as she continued to study Calsin, her wide eyes filled with unfiltered curiosity. “Are you a robot?” she asked suddenly, her voice innocent but tinged with awe. “Like a big metal machine?”

Calsin paused, his hand resting mid-motion on his Narthecium. A small, almost imperceptible chuckle escaped his vox, though it carried more as a low metallic rumble, his attempt to fake laughter. “No. We are not machines. We are alive, warriors of flesh and blood beneath this armor.”

Flurry’s gaze lingered on the ornate engravings and the dark metallic finish of his armor. “But Why do you have a beak?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she tilted her head further. “Are you a bird?”

Calsin blinked behind his visor, momentarily thrown by the question. “It is not a beak,” he said, his tone betraying a hint of exasperation. “It is a helm, forged to protect me in battle. It is a symbol of mankind's genius and might.”

To his complete bewilderment, Flurry’s expression softened into a smile. “I think it looks cute.”

Cute. The word hung in the air like a bizarre anomaly in his world of war and death. Never, in all his years, had such a term been attributed to him. He didn’t know how to respond, his mind momentarily grinding to a halt. He decided to simply let the comment pass, turning his focus back to his task.

Flurry took another step closer, her small form now just within reach of him. Calsin’s mind began to race, weighing his options. The filly was close enough now, her trust in him good enough. He saw an opportunity.

“Flurry Heart,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “Might I ask a favor of you?”

Her ears perked up, her wings fluttering slightly in interest. “A favor?” she echoed.

“Yes,” he said, inclining his head toward her. “There is a tool beside your hoof. Could you bring it to me?” He gestured subtly to the surgical implement resting just inches away from her, his palm open. He kept his other hand hidden.

Flurry glanced down, spotting the tool. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, picking up the tool in her mouth before reaching right next to his foot. She waited patiently for him to take it.

He leaned down, his left hand reaching for her. He watched for her reaction as his hand drew closer. She was trusting.

“Thank you,” He said.

His hand bolted forward, and before she could even form a surprised face, his other hand plunged the concoction into her small neck. He held her firm as her widened eyes slowly became heavy, and her tense body into his hand.

He held her carefully in his arm, letting her lean against his tabard. His hand reached behind him, removing an explosive charge. He could not take his brothers with him, but he would insure their remains would not be sullied any further. He set it between the two, pressing the actuator and waiting for a loud click, it was ready.

He looked to Procuran and Queren. His voice, low and solemn, carried through his helmet, the echoes of his prayer meant for the Emperor’s ears alone.

Calsin bowed his head, resting his gauntleted fist against his chestplate.

“—Go now, Brothers, He awaits you both,” he said, ending the recitation.

The words were said, Calsin looked down to Flurry. She was still breathing, nestled in his loose grip. He was glad he added more dilution to the sedative; he was doubtful even such a small amount of the drug would be safe enough not to instantly kill her.

“Let us go see your parents, Flurry Heart,” he said, his voice devoid of the demeanor he feigned.

Cadence and Shining Armor stood firm, hope beginning to flicker in their hearts. The Crystal Heart, slowly growing brighter, radiated its ancient light. It wouldn’t be long now—just a little longer—and the evil before them would be swept away. Their faith bolstered the barrier that separated them from their enemy.

On the other side of the shimmering field of energy, Locari knelt with an unnervingly calm demeanor. His helmet rested beside him, his unyielding eyes meeting Cadence’s gaze. He hadn’t moved since their standoff began, as if waiting for something—someone. Cadence could feel it in her core: should the barrier falter for even an instant, he would strike.

The tension tightened like a noose as hope swelled within the hearts of the Crystal Empire’s defenders. The light of the Crystal Heart was proof their will could outlast this nightmare. Victory was so close.

Then, like a thunderclap, the heavy door of the palace—inside the field of the barrier—smashed open. All hope crumbled.

Calsin emerged with an eerie calm, his massive form moving like a specter of death. At first, his presence was an abstract terror. Then Cadence saw what he held, and the world seemed to tilt.

Flurry Heart.

Her daughter.

Dangling from his grasp like a broken doll.

Shining Armor froze at the sight, the cold dread piercing deeper than any blade. The gathered ponies gasped in unison, their faith shattering as fear rushed to fill the void.

Cadence’s horn sparked with energy, her instincts screaming to strike, but before she could cast, Calsin’s voice boomed. It carried the weight of finality, loud enough for all to hear.

"I would advise against using your sorceries." His tone was calm but venomous. "Know that in the time it would take for your nerves to command your body to move, I’d have already rendered her head a fine paste." He unclasped his plasma pistol and pointed it to Flurry's side, his intent clear. "Or reduced her lower half to atoms."

The light of the Crystal Heart wavered, dimmed by the rising despair of the ponies who bore witness to this horror.

Calsin’s cold, predatory gaze turned to Shining Armor. "Are you its sire?"

Shining Armor's shock turned to rage. "Let her go!" he shouted, his voice shaking with desperation.

Calsin shifted his head slightly, locking eyes with Locari, who had been motionless this entire time. Calmly, methodically, Locari secured his wavy hair beneath his helm and reattached it with a decisive click. A silent vox transmission passed between them, unheard by anyone else.

Locari’s answer was simple. "We cut the snake’s head here."

With that, Calsin’s focus returned to Shining Armor. His tone became mockingly cold. "You want her back?" He let the question linger. "Very well."

Before anyone could react, he flung Flurry Heart into the air, sending her tumbling toward Shining Armor. The stallion’s eyes widened in terror as he realized his magic was still bound to the barrier. He leapt forward, his hooves outstretched to catch his daughter.

It was exactly the moment Calsin had waited for.

The plasma pistol barked with a deafening roar. A lance of searing energy struck Shining Armor mid-motion, sending him crumpling to the ground, limp. Flurry Heart landed in his still arms, unconscious but alive.

Time seemed to stop for Cadence. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the screams of terror from her ponies. Her body wouldn’t move. She couldn’t process the sight of her husband on the ground, the life bleeding from his body. The barrier faltered, the Crystal Heart dimming further.

The spell broke. She bolted forward, her instincts overpowering her despair.

But she didn’t make it far.

A cold, iron grip clasped her head, halting her motion with inhuman strength. She felt the teeth of a chain blade press against her neck, its motor silent but its promise unmistakable. She could only gasp as the razor teeth cut into her neck, before she was shoved to the ground.

There was an oppressive silence, the only sound was trickling liquid and the faint hum of the Crystal Heart. The sound of clanking spears hitting the crystal ground reverberating off the walls. The ponies, their courage shattered, scattered in despair, leaving behind the remnants of their failed defense. Locari stood tall, watching them flee. Their fear was palpable, their unity broken.

He sheathed his chainsword with a heavy click and exchanged a nod with Calsin, who stepped forward, his crimson visor fixed on the Crystal Heart. The relic glowed faintly, its light pulsating with a rhythm that seemed almost alive. Locari's eyes were drawn to it, this alien artifact of unnatural design and power.

Locari reached out, his gauntleted hand hovering over the Crystal Heart. Calsin’s voice came low and sharp through the vox. “Locari, wait—”

But Locari had already clasped it. The moment his hand made contact, the Heart erupted in blinding white light, engulfing the castle's underside in its brilliance. Locari staggered, his helm’s sensors overwhelmed, his body screaming in protest as the surge of energy coursed through him. He fell to one knee, his hand still locked to the glowing relic, unable to release it.

The light wasn’t just light—it was something more. Locari could feel it pressing against him, searing through his armor and into his very being. It wasn’t just blinding; it was deafening, overwhelming every sense he had. Amidst the brilliance, a voice echoed, faint and fragmented, like a distant call lost in the void.

“It is here…”

The words were distant, barely audible, like whispers struggling to pierce through a storm. Locari’s breaths grew ragged as he strained to make sense of the sound. The light pulsed, each wave bringing with it another fragment.

“…a bastion… against the dark…”

His head throbbed, his thoughts scattering with every syllable. The voice carried weight—authority that sent chills through him.

“…in their unity… it shall burn…”

The words came in fragments, disjointed and cryptic, pieces of a puzzle he couldn’t see. The voice grew stronger, clearer, but still unknowable to him.

“…in their love, it shall forge a shield… no evil can breach…”

Locari gritted his teeth, his body shuddering under the strain. The light flickered, the intensity fading, but the voice pressed on, its presence lingering in his mind.

“…remain steadfast… no shadow shall claim them…”

The brilliance ceased, the overwhelming radiance fading into nothingness. The voice receded like a dream half-remembered, leaving Locari on one knee, his breaths ragged and his thoughts clouded with confusion.

Calsin moved with precision, yanking Locari’s hand free from the Crystal Heart. Locari tried to stop him, his voice strained and desperate. “Calsin, wait—”

But his warning came too late. With an unflinching motion, Calsin seized the Crystal Heart, slammed it to the ground, and brought his armored boot down upon it. The artifact shattered with a sharp, crystalline crack, fragments scattering across the floor like shards of glass.

The light was gone. The surroundings dimmed, its glow replaced by an oppressive silence.

Calsin turned his unreadable visor to Locari, who still knelt on the ground. “Set your charges, we are done here,” he said. Without another word he grabbed clumps of the powerless cyrstal, he turned and began to leave, his boots crunching over the scattered shards.

Locari pushed himself to his feet, his hand still shaking from the encounter. He looked to the shattered remains of the Heart, his thoughts a storm of confusion. His mind replayed the voice he had heard, the words lingering. He silently followed Calsin’s command, placing two charges on the walls of two of the castle's four supports.

A faint movement caught his attention. He turned sharply to see Princess Cadence, her body frail and weak, dragging herself across the floor. Blood marked her trail as she reached Shining Armor and Flurry Heart, pulling them into her trembling embrace. Tears flowed equally as did blood, her eyes lifeless as she stared to the ground, but her grip to them firm.

He stood, staring down at them. The little one breathed still.

He turned, leaving the plaza. He caught up to Calsin, both silent in their march. They could see a raging storm moving to envelope them, they did not falter. Locari could hear a detonation and crumbling buildings behind him but he didn’t look.

He looked to Calsin. “Did they have anything, Brother? Anything we could use?”

Calsin looked back, the reflection of a crumbling palace in his red lense. “Nothing.”

They saw the moon begin to dip, and light peaking through the mountains.