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Chapter 5: Hunters

Elaine missed Oskar. There was a hole in their ranks, for all it was full of escorts and observers. The team was almost back together again: Merek polishing his cannon/halberd religiously, the Prof chatting with their clients, Urdal’s nose was deep in his damn prayer book. It was almost like the early days, before Sanctuary got so big, before the Academy. But instead of Oskar calmly going through his ammo stocks their fifth was a giddy younger woman. Erica Hatten, or “Bouncy” as some called her, was a vivacious young woman that spent most of her life growing up in Sanctuary.

Some days, Elaine was sure Sanctuary had spoiled all of them. They didn’t know what it was like, living out there in the slumps.

“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” The Prof’s voice rang in her memory.

“Yeah. Yes it is.”

Elaine left the girl to her talk, listening in with one ear. For all the chat was vigorous, Erica wasn’t saying anything she shouldn’t. Hells, Urdal’s reading choice was meeting some approval from this lot, so it wasn’t all bad.

“Good day. Is this seat taken?”

Elaine eyed the asker. He didn’t look like a threat. Dressed in a set of naval inform redone in black and silver, something about which twinged her lessons. It was the pin that did it: a silver starburst.

“No, go ahead. Skaelen-Har, right?”

“So I am. Lieutenant Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The man said, bowing and offering his hand with a bland smile. The gloves did a good job of covering it up, but Elaine could feel the metal articulation beneath the fine weave. She didn’t have anything against prosthetics, a Huntresses job was dangerous, but these people cut themselves just to join a group.

It was stupid, but she knew better than to say it to his face.

“Elaine, the Frozen Queen.” A moment after it slipped out, she blushed.

“I was not aware we were in the presence of royalty.” The chatter around the hold quieted at the extra bland question, so Elaine could clearly make out Urdal’s amused scoff in the sudden near silence.

Elaine panicked a little. She knew they couldn’t mess this up, or it would all be: mutants, heretics and purging with fire. She rushed to explained:

“It’s just a nickname. I don’t have a surname.”

“Truly?”

“By the Emperor, how could one man be so bland yet so aggravating?”

“No.”

“A pity.”

Smalltalk. Elaine hated small talk. She never knew what to say.

“Is this your first time going to orbit, Hunter Elaine?”

“Huntress. We’re all Hunters, but the proper term is Huntress. Elite Huntress, if you want to be formal. And yes.”

“I see. My apologies.” His voice wasn’t a monotone or flat, but every word that came out of his mouth reeked of either disinterest or curiosity so mild to be nearly non-existent. Elaine wasn’t sure which.

“You may wish to strap in.”

Now that he mentioned it, others were doing that, so Elaine did the same. The buckles weren’t familiar, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out with examples all around here.

Then the world got really loud, her stomach tried to fall through the floor and everything started shaking, like some giant was using them for a toy.

***

Being all floaty was weird. Elaine knew it was coming, but it was still weird. Xavier wasn’t terrible company. He didn’t pry, or chat all the time. He was bland, but at least he stayed on topic. He’d told her a bit about the ships they’d be visiting today, so Elaine felt it was fair to share a bit back. Just the general stuff that everyone knew.

“There are ranks. Not like yours, Lieutenant and such, that’s for the Guard. Huntresses are ranked by skill and experience.”

Xavier blinked, nodding just a little to her explanation.

“Trainee Hunters are just starting out. They do some studying, some sparring, see if they have what it takes to be one of us.”

“After a year of that, if they pass, the go into the Academy on the combat track. They pass three years of that, then it’s the Hunter Academy.”

“There are two?”

“They’re different.”

“Go on.” Xavier encouraged.

“There’s not much more to tell. They’re combat students, then student Hunters. A graduate is a full Huntress.”

Elaine glanced at Pyrrha and got a soft smile. Right, she was doing well.

“We’re supposed to make friends.”

“And you are among the best, as an elite.”

“Kind of. It gets complicated, there’s a series of skills we have to master to be an Elite.” she deflected a bit.

“Understandable. My own talents lie in maintenance.”

“Isn’t that a job for the red robes?” That wasn’t an offensive way to call the Mechanicus, right?

“Indeed. But someone must oversee the work gangs. The honoured Tech-priests care little for managing work parties. Oversight is a very different thing. They would prefer their workers to be servitors, not men.”

A loud clang rang out. “We’ve arrived.” Xavier calmly told her, unbuckling himself.

Elaine noticed, she wasn’t dumb. The floaty feeling was gone.

When they emerged outside of the transport, they were greeted by loud music and a welcoming party.

“Oh great, more of this.” Elaine put on a polite smile. A whole day in the spires apparently hadn’t been enough. Something about these rubbed her the wrong way. Elaine had no trouble being patient on a hunt. It was putting up with idiots trying to bribe or trick her into spilling secrets that was annoying. She couldn’t stab them to make it stop, like the targets of her hunt.

***

Erika was bouncing along, giddy with glee. Here was proof she was talented, no matter what the other teams said. She was the one chosen to go up with the Mentors and the Professor. It was team up for the ages!

Ok, maybe not, but come on. Erika knew what they were doing was important, but it wasn’t every day she got to join up with the old man and his old team. Oskar, the coldest of them, wasn’t even around which made it all the better. He was always so serious, seriously. Would it kill him to relax a bit? Crack a smile sometimes?

Whatever. All that mattered was that they were here! The halls of the ship weren’t that different than the more cramped corridors of the hive. They reminded her of home, a little. Not Sanctuary, but before.

“Space! We are in space!” She shouted while hopping along.

The old man chuckled. “Tone it down, Bouncy. You’ll scare away our prey.”

“It’s fine.” The Professor called out from up ahead. Erika could never get over how red her hair was. She wished she had hair like that. Hers was just dull and brown. And she had to keep it short.

“We’re doing Sweep and Kill. I’d like to demonstrate our utility to our friends.”

“Kill?” Mentor Goodbook asked, putting away his book. Oh, oh. That had to be serious. Erika was in the habit of jumping as she went, but now she started charging up. Taking a little bit from each landing and storing it in her Semblance.

“Kill.” Professor Pyrrha confirmed.

No way! “I’m going to see a real, live demon slaying! This is so cool!” Her fist pumped up and hit the ceiling with a painful jolt.

“Ow!”

The old man chuckled besides her and mussed up her hair.

“Stop it! I’m not a little girl anymore!” She’s all grown up and taking care of herself. Well, Erika was still technically living with her mom, but that was like, a technicality. No, wait! She wasn’t living with her mom, her mom was living with her!

“I know.” the old man replied, and there it was, that glad and wistful look in his eyes.

Ok, maybe Erika liked to play up her childishness. She was 24 Terran years old, maybe a bit old for the act. But if being upbeat made her friends happier, what was wrong with that?

Maybe sometimes she wasn’t quite so happy, but she got there eventually by making them smile. Even if it was a bit embarrassing sometimes.

***

“What’s the difference?” Xavier asked.

“Search and Destroy is what we usually do.” Elaine explained, sweeping the halls and side passages. She and her team had wrapped their auras from the moment they left the atmosphere. Learning how to do it had taken a lot of Aura practice. She knew some of the students despised meditation, but some tricks really required you to know what it was like to be motionless. To call on that feeling of nothingness.

Doing that while walking and talking was one of the differences between a regular Huntress and an Elite one. It helped them hunt more cautious demons, but in space being quiet took on a whole different level of importance. Elaine had been wondering why the Prof was letting little Bounce flare all over the place like that.

“Or Sweep and Clear.” She amended. Seeing as how she had his full attention she went on:

“Sweep and Clear is just like this. We go in loud and see what decides to pop up. Then we clear it.”

A spectre of unease passed over the Skaelen-Har’s representatives face. “I see. You’re… calling one up?” He asked, edging away from her.

“No. That would be heresy. We’re calling them out. The difference is…” she glanced at the Proof and reconsidered. “I shouldn’t tell. You’d call it Forbidden Lore.”

He backed away further. “Say no more.” He looked positively unwell. “There will be, ah, a daemon?”

“That’s the idea. We’ve got, what? Twelve ships we can try? I’ll bet you we find one before we hit the sixth.”

“Ah. Most should be clear then?” He relaxed, minutely.

Winding him up was kind of fun. “Hell no. But a Sweep won’t cut it to find them. That’s what a Search is for. Those can take days, weeks. A Sweep is for surface stuff, or things about to… how do I say it without dooming you? About to pop anyway?”

It was like the Lieutenant was only now realising he was hip deep in demon shit. “Yes, of course.” He nodded quickly. His hand went into a pocket and Elaine could hear the crinkle of paper in it.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“What? Nothing.” his hand jumped out of his pocket as if burned.

Elaine had been practicing this more for years. She raised one eyebrow and schooled her face to show him just how unimpressed she was with him.

“It’s…” he hesitated. “My permit.” His hand waved around them. “For all this.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Now he was looking at her like she was the stupid one. After a moment, she got it.

“Right. I’ll just… keep it safe… Well you know how banishing a demon doesn’t really kill it?”

Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth of Skaelen-Har choked. He wasn’t the only one. Half of their escorts had some reaction. The Inquisitorial Acolyte accompanying them turned around from shadowing the Professor to glare at her.

Pyrrha Nikos’s voice rang out, like a clear bell: “This would be one of the reasons why I insist on both isolation and having only our own support on our hunts Acolyte.”

His glare switched from her to the Professor. “That is a violation of-“

“It is our way. Deal with it.” Pyrrha cut him off.

Yeah. Sanctuary didn’t lie to her people. You had to pass a bunch of tests to get to the truth, but they didn’t lie. They just told you the truth could kill you if you weren’t ready for it.

“If you think the Inquisition will accept this…” the Acolyte ominously threatened.

“I think they’ll accept a lot, after we kill a daemon.” Pyrrha replied conversationally.

“Humph.” He scoffed.

Strangely, he kept quiet after that. Elaine was looking for it. The sudden freeze, a moment’s pause, but it never came. He still must have realised what she’d said, with Erika and herself chattering on in the back.

“He’s good. No sign of the realisation hitting him. Or is he discounting it?”

They’d find out, soon enough.

“Like I was saying, Search and Destroy is for demons in hiding. We find their hidden lairs and break those, chasing them out. Sweep and Clear is just a pass that attracts anything active that wants to fight.”

“Ah.” Xavier had done a good job regaining some equilibrium, in the time he had. “You’re looking for one of the Violent.”

Well, if they had to do this on such short notice, those were easiest to find. Even if one wasn’t on any of the ships, Bouncy’s spillage would attract one.

That was the thing, with space. They no longer had the world and the hive to shield them. It wasn’t a question of if they were coming, but when.

“That’s why wrapping is a condition for any void travel and wrapped hunting one for void work. Otherwise, it’d be like leaving out fresh food in the Underhive. We’d be swarmed in less than a day.”

***

It took a bit over two hours and three docked ships, before the hunters stopped just randomly wandering through the ship’s halls. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth was starting to wonder if this was all just some kind of prank made by clowns in colourful outfits, when all five of them went from chatting to tense in an instant.

“Incoming.” The woman he’d been speaking to whispered. Suddenly, the leader of the squad turned to him: “We need a large open space. Now.”

“Launch bay two is nearby. It’s-“

“Point.” The red head in charge ordered, suddenly seizing the Inquisitorial Acolyte and throwing him on her shoulder. They were so quick, it was so sudden. A shoulder slammed into his gut and he found himself in the same position, as the lithe woman who couldn’t be heavier than him picked him up with ease. His mind was still catching up with him when he pointed. He knew each of these ships by heart.

Something yanked him, hard. Suddenly the decking was flying by below, as they left most of the armed escort far behind. They ran like ground bikes and jumped down ladders between floors. The whole trip was sudden, painful, nauseating and quick.

In less than a minute they ran through the launch bay doors. “Everybody out!” Nikos commanded, lowering the scowling Acolyte. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth found his feet on the floor too, except it was wobbling and he toppled to the ground. The room was spinning.

“By order of the Inquisition, clear the bay!” Xavier heard someone shout, but he was too busy trying not to be sick. “Did she do a backflip mid-air while holding me?” By the Emperor, who were these freaks?

“Four minutes?” A familiar voice asked. Elaine. She was Elaine. His view was stabilising. It wasn’t that different than void manoeuvres. Just very sudden. He shook his head, shaking off the nausea and regaining his feet.

“Three.” another voice curtly replied.

He was an officer in his Majesties Navy and he would not falter!

“Out! Get Out!” The Acolyte screamed.

Loud clanking approached from behind. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth turned to see the tech-priest catching up with them, running on his mechadendrites. Those red robes had hidden a lot of them. Six of the metal arms carried the red robed priest to them at speed.

“Query: has the event begun?”

The loud, bouncy one shook out her hands, slipping them into large metal fists. Where’d those come from?

“Just about to, metal man.”

“I warn you all: seeing a demon will burden your souls, watching the moment of its death will kill you. When I tell you to turn around, do so if you wish to live.” the leader said in a soft voice. But when she glanced back at them, her eyes were implacable. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth had never heard a death threat delivered in quite such a tone. It was almost pity.

He had two primary orders: Observe the Hunter party, and obey their instructions.

Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth felt deeply unwell. All naval officers knew the threat of the Warp and the things that came from it. That didn’t mean he wanted to be anywhere near a daemon. Their very entry into the world corrupted anyone nearby. However, failing his mission was worse. On days like this, he wished he was a better at practicing the Concordium. Perhaps then, his fears would have less of a hold of him. Still, to run from the enemy was death, so he stood his ground.

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The naval officer drew his Irontalon pistol and officer’s cutlass, readying himself for battle.

“Please do not interfere.” Nikos told them absentmindedly. While Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth looked about the quickly empting hold, all of them were standing still. The ones facing him looked like they were listening to something only they could hear.

The stomping of boots echoed down the halls, as their escorts, naval and inquisitorial, caught up. Perhaps recognising the tension in the air, they asked no questions, forming up on the Acolyte and him.

The Hunters turned, one by one, all looking at the same part of the roof, the bouncy loud one being the last to do so. They spread out, weapons at the ready.

“Team, keep it entertained. Erika, hands.” Nikos ordered.

Three of them started shooting at the air, jumping up the transports with unnatural speed and grace. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth couldn’t see what they were shooting at. Yet all three fired in not only the same direction, but their bullets hit something. It was even worse when they leapt up, the shooters drawing melee weapons. Each shining with their own coloured light, purple, blue and yellow humans leaping impossible bounds to strike… something in the air.

The last two, Nikos and her student? The student had placed her hands on Nikos’s back. They were talking, but it was hard to hear over the noise the other three were producing with their shots and fighting. Something about ripples in an aura?

A tame witch caught up with the Acolyte just in time for him to demand: “Well? Can you see it?”

The witch grabbed a familiar charm, a representation of Saint Drusus. An unnatural chill filled the air, frost forming on the ground around the witch. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth and his escorts took a few steps away from the witch, ready to turn and slay it if he should become possessed.

The inquisitorial escorts hardly flinched, standing their ground. The witch whispered something to the Acolyte, which made him snap up to the battle, that was quickly descending to the floor of the transport bay. The fight paused, as all three of the hunters landed, facing the same section of space. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth saw a ripple in the air. He smelled blood and heard whispers in his head:

“Blood. Skulls. War.”

He was bombarded by images of previous boarding actions, or fighting in the deeps when the work gangs had risen up in rebellion. Scenes of slaughter assailed him and Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth called on the God-Emperor to shield him and his men through battle prayer.

His faith proved true as the cloud of red and suffocating blood cleared form his thoughts, but the same was not true for all. A gun clattered to the ground and Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth spun and found the face of one of his Armsmen purpling in rage. He stabbed the failure before the traitor could unleash its betrayal. He was not alone, as two of his escorts blasted him with their shotguns, nor were those the only shots to ring out among them all.

Four bodies hit the ground. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth as Lieutenant swept his men for signs of corruption, but while many were furious, their wrath was holy and just, directed against the abomination, not their brothers.

Turning back to the fight, Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth was faced with an unexpected sight. The daemon was a foul thing, red of skin and with a large horned head. It towered over the hunters by at least a head and dripped with fresh blood. In its hands was a large two handed sword and it bore no armour. It was a horror, but the horror was muted.

For the daemon wasn’t really there. Several members of the Inquisitorial party fired on it, and their shots passed through the apparition without injuring it. In fact, the image of the daemon was somewhat distorted, muddied, like seen through glass or smoke.

That didn’t seem to matter to the hunters, who clashed with the distorted, monstrous figure. There was another shot from behind them, and Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth spun around to find that one of his men had been creeping backwards. He’d taken a shot to the head and crumpled to the ground. The commissar who delivered judgement screamed: “Not one step back! Stand your ground!”

The fire from the Acolyte and his party petered out, as they obviously weren’t doing anything except inconveniencing the hunters. “What Sorcery is this?” one of the men asked, and to that, Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth had no answer.

***

“Remember: mercy.” The Professor instructed Erica, as she stepped around her and advanced. The fact the Bloodletter could keep up with three Master Hunters was scary. They weren’t giving it their all, Erika knew that, but it was somehow defending and attacking despite being pressed. As she stepped forward, the three retreated, leaving her before the weakened, bloodied daemon.

Shaping aura into her gauntlets was instinctual by now, but she needed to do more to-

Suddenly the demon was in front of her, charging her. Erica blocked the first swing, but the blade passed right through her gauntlets and cut across her chest, leaving a line of burning pain. She stumbled back, barely managing to twist past another slash to smash her fist into its ugly face. But instead of hurting the damn thing, he fist went right through it. It felt like she’d plunged it into a fire.

Still, she didn’t give up, as a claw stabbed into her stomach she swung again, her clenched fist sweeping through the demon’s shoulders. Her whole body was on fire as Erika passed through the red mist and into a world of slaughter.

***

Sanctuary had burned. The bloody, treacherous Imperium had come, decrying them as traitors and heretics when it was the Imperium that first betrayed them. They’d burned Sanctuary to the ground, and now she was getting her due. Her fists shattered ribs and broke skulls in a furious melee, as at last vengeful Sanctuary Guard and the squads of Hunters cashed into their endless numbers.

They pushed and pushed the damned murderers back, breaking their guns, avoiding and blocking blades, shattering the doomed fools who’d killed her home. It didn’t matter if they were outnumbered a thousand to one, Erica would make them pay for what they’d done.

Her gauntlets crushed another skull and she saw a clump of resistance stand among the breaking line of the cowardly enemy. She firmed her stance and kicked with all her might, unleashing her Semblance. The burst of force flung broken bodies like discarded dolls, clearing the area. Faced with the slaughter the Hunters and Huntresses were making of them, the Imperials broke.

Then the true slaughter began.

***

They chased them, up the halls and across the cliffs of the Underhive, up, up, through the mazes into the Hive itself. Killing them by the dozens, hundreds, slaughtering the cowards that had waited until the guard was in space and the Hunters away to wipe out their home. Now Erika would do the same to them. The avenues were filled with running soldiers, falling, being mowed down from behind, unworthy of even a proper fight. Blood was everywhere, covering the floors, walls, her armour, seeping into her clothes and skin, but still she pushed on, driven by an unquenchable fire. A wrath that would never stop, never cease, never be satisfied!

She broke another coward’s spine, spilled the brains of a terrified weakling turning to face her and leaped for one of the fools trying to hide inside an apartment. Her jumped shattered the half open door, and she and her allies poured into the warren where these rats were hiding to slaughter them all. Bleed them, as they had bled, let them all die and claim their skulls!

The fools were no match for their might, some even throwing down their weapons as if that would save them, as if it would make up for a single slain soul they’d stole away from her!

Some weaklings clutched around their children, unarmed, helpless, unworthy. Erika turned away. The Sanctuary guard advanced, raising their hammers… and something in her stomach twisted.

“We are Huntresses and Huntsmen. We hunt monsters, alien, demon and human. Care not to become one.”

It was a lesson repeated a thousand times, ten thousand times. Erika wanted them to hurt, to die. She wanted them to suffer. But kids? They might have slaughtered the children of Sanctuary, but no matter how much she wanted to hunt down and slaughter those responsible? The kids weren’t. For all her endless rage, this wasn’t her.

It was hard. So hard. The streets called her, the enemy still fleeing, still so many guilty that needed to face her vengeful wrath.

“First, we are Guardians. To be a Huntress is to guard life. We hunt monsters and terrors, so that others may live.”

It was so hard. Like lifting a mountain. But it was not in her. No matter how much she wanted to go out there, Erika Hatten was not a woman who would ever, ever stand aside and watch children be slaughtered. She leapt back, slamming into the guards, pushing them away from the terrified family.

“Not them.” She growled, with all the pain and wrath in her heart, which was still endlessly breaking.

“They killed-“ the Guards began but she cut them off.

“I know. And still.” she insisted, no matter how much it tore her apart within. “We are better than this.”

She turned her back on the guards and forced a smile: “It’ll be alright.” She told the cowering woman, her kids. They all deserved to die-

No. That’s not me. That will never be me.

Green light exploded out of Erika, the vision shattering as another Hunter rejected Khorne from within her very soul.

***

Erika stumbled out of the red mist, clawing at her burning throat. Her aura was infested by corrupted, sick blood. She spat the blood out and flared her aura, centring herself as she had a thousand times in the meditation rooms. Something in her very soul clicked.

“This. This endless, mindless cycle of revenge. Of blood and slaughter. This I will fight. This I deny. I defy thee.”

The Huntress spun in place, her soul ringing with that denial and her gauntlets deflected the red blade. For a moment, a speck of confusion entered the demon’s eyes, allowing Erika to take two steps back and crack her neck. Around them, the cavernous space was awash in mist, the only clear figures being Erika, the demon, the other Hunters and the psyker.

“Tenenboum. The place between.”

Grinning wildly, Erika smashed her gauntlets together, grinning at the Bloodletter.

“Round two. My soul against yours.”

The leering demon licked his bloodied blade. “Your skull is worthy mortal. I will claim it for Khorne. Blood!” he screamed. “Blood for the Blood God!”

“For Sanctuary and the living!” Erika replied with her own warcry.

They both charged.

***

A veil of pale, shimmering mist surrounded the two fighters. Both of them now looked like otherworldly creatures, clashing with each other. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth was only a modestly talented duellist. From the first clash, it was clear the demon was the greater weapons master. Within a couple of exchanges, the Hunter woman was being pushed back, forced on the defensive and unable to get near the demon.

Firing into the mist was pointless. The demon and the woman were both shouting, but no one could hear them. They were just whispers, just beyond the edge of hearing. With one being a demon, Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth was more than glad to drown them out with prayer and battle chants. Some cheered on the hunter, and Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth did not find it within himself to correct them. Whatever the hunters were, witch or no witch, any human who would stand against the Enemy was not beyond the light of salvation. Or redemption on the battlefield.

The woman must have come to the same conclusion, for she committed to a sudden rush, trying to get under the blade. It was a foolish risk, but her best chance with her chosen weapons. Not that getting close to the daemon would be safe. She paid for her courage. Two flicks of the sword struck her, across arm and leg and Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth expected to see her crumple to the ground in pieces.

Instead, the light around her flared, resisting the foul blade and while the foul daemon shifted and dodged, he was not quick enough to keep the distance. She closed in with her unnatural speed and struck the demon. Even still, it managed to twist aside, for the most part, turning a solid blow to its chest to a strike that only caught its shoulder. In turn, it raked its claws across her face eliciting a pained scream from the woman.

Sure, that would have been a lost exchange if not for the sudden thrum so loud it was heard past the mists. Her gauntlet exploded, shredding the demons shoulder to bloody ruin, and Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth didn’t miss how a spray of blood and shotgun pellets struck the transport behind the fighters, spraying out of the mist. Nor how the blood was suddenly real, and slowly boiling away.

The daemon roared, echoes of that terrible cry ringing out into the launch bay and every member of his group raised their arms. If it was finally coming into the real…

“Do not interfere.” The Hunter carrying a holy book told them, his words as sharp as knife. “If you slay the demon, you’ll only help it escape. This is our hunt.”

Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth looked to the Acolyte, for he had never heard such heretical, blasphemous instruction. But after a moment of consideration, the Acolyte nodded. “We let it play out, and judge the survivors.”

Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth felt bile climb up his gorge but swallowed. His Majesty’s Inquisition spoke with his blessed voice. As nobility, Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth was aware this wasn’t always precisely true, but with a demon before him, what was he to do but hold to duty and faith?

***

The sword came down on Erika’s gauntlets like a hammer, biting into both metal and her Aura. She was below half, but she managed to tag the damn thing twice, weakening the Bloodletter.

“You rely on the strength of others to wound me. You are unworthy to stain my feet!”

“I see your obsession with might hasn’t been exaggerated at all.” She cheerfully replied, further infuriating the demon. Problem was, the demon wasn’t going to let her reload, so it was time to end this. Locking both her gauntlets against his sword hadn’t been an accident. It was a losing position for Erika, as she couldn’t match the demon’s might for long.

She didn’t need to.

“Well if you want to face my full might, here you go!”

She could have used her Semblance to push back the blade, blast it away. That was stupid. Erika fell back, losing the press by lifting one of her feet, no longer able to match the might of the demon pressing down. But before it could slam her into the floor and cut her in half, she kicked its knee. Even then, the demon saw it coming and slid his foot a bit sideways, so her boot would hit his shin and slide off.

But with all of the force her Semblance had saved up from her skips and hops getting here empowering it?

Her combat boot tore through the demon’s footing and suddenly it was the one losing its balance and falling down after her. Erika helped it along the moment it suddenly lost its balance. As the pressure on her stuttered, she used the moment of weakness to twist and deflect the blade sideways, grabbing the daemons arms.

They hung there, balanced on the demons foot for a suspended eternity. Then, with Semblance empowered strength, she squeezed and broke both of the Bloodletters arms, ripping the sword from its grip. Erika hit the floor, rolled, and was on her feet in an instant. She still got bowled over by the demon as it rammed into her and tried to rip her throat out with its teeth. That at least she could answer, turning the charge into a throw that slammed the demon into the floor hard enough to dent the metal.

Climbing on top of it, while being clubbed by its dangling claws, Erika went to work, burying her fist in its chest. She would have gone for the head, but he’d already proven he was too good at twisting around.

There was no dodging this. Her gauntlet carried the weight of a falling power hammer and ripped into its chest, shattering bone and spattering vile, burning blood all over the both of them. The demon just drank it up and tried to bite her again. Her next blow shattered most of its teeth.

With the demon disarmed, Erika stopped drawing on her nearly empty pool of stored force and just started hammering it. It tried its tricks, to throw her, twist away, claw away with its feet. But she had it, on the floor, just the way she wanted it. Its skull deformed under the repeated strikes, the horns cracked and broke, until something in there finally cracked and the demon slumped.

“Cursed mortal. I will remember this insult.” the demon threatened.

Erika looked down at him. “No. You will not.” She reached out, and grabbed it. Not the body, but the soul. A technique for Expert Hunters developed to teach the next generation. Developed from the very method of awakening another soul, now used to hold it here, as the mist faded and they returned to reality.

The Bloodletter was a being of the Warp. Reality was acid to it. It started screaming in pain and bottomless rage and hate, struggling with its mauled, broken body as its skin boiled away. Erika refused to let go, even as the rage started seeping into her again. She’d hold it here until it boiled away, its essence shredded by the real world, forced to endure a mortal death by her right as victor at the very edge of the Warp.

After all, a deal is a deal. But Chaos cheats. This death would not be true for the Bloodletter. The banishment would take years, decades, perhaps even centuries to recover from, but it would heal in time. This is what an Expert Huntress did.

But she was not alone today.

Two purple shining swords pieced the Bloodletter’s leg. The moment she felt another soul grab it, Erika let go. She knew better than to be in soul contact for what was coming. Her body was replaced by sparking blue battleaxe, as Mentor Merek joined the pin. Mentor Urlak was simple, he pressed his holy book into the deformed demon’s head, pinning it in place with his golden aura.

Erika stepped back and turned away. It was a waste to miss this opportunity, but her aura was too low. She couldn’t risk it. “I tanked too many blows.” She needed more practice fighting Emperor be damned sword masters.

***

The three elder hunters were pinning the daemon in place, and the Magos had shifted around to better record everything. The Inquisitorial party had advanced as well, but Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth did not follow them. He was almost expecting it when the order came, because as a Naval Officer he knew to always watch the person in command. And for this cursed outing, Nikos was it.

“Turn away if you want to live. Take shelter as well, or at least close your eyes to avoid pain and injury.” The leader of the hunters advanced, spear held high, not in a guard, but like a banner, as if it was a ritual. Maybe it was, but Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth had seen enough.

“Company, about face!” He was somewhat torn between his orders to observe and report, and obey her instructions. But Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth had to be alive to write a report, so he turned away. Unfortunately, duty compelled him to keep watching, even if all he saw was the backs of his armsmen.

The Magos joined them, complaining in a flat, even tone: “Direct observation would be preferable. Scrap code threat precludes risk. Most unfortunate.”

There was a pause, not from the screaming demon, but from the woman’s footsteps. Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth heard the Acolyte command: “Get on with it.” He did not sound impressed or worried. The naval officer was suddenly struck by a terrible premonition that in a few hours he would be forced to explain to an Inquisitor how their Acolyte perished. Yet before he could say anything, a voice rang out, a whisper that echoed like the damn Enemy. Except instead of being filled with rage or wrath, it was just cold. Impossibly, cold, cold like the void of space. And as clear as if someone was right behind him, holding a blade to his throat, whispering in his ear:

“For it is in passing that we achieve immortality.”

The hold flickered. One moment, for all it was filled with grey metal and the uniformed backs of his armsmen, there was at least some colour to it, on the uniforms. There was a flicker of cold, deathly light that made Xavier suddenly feel tired, weak. It leached all the colour from the world.

“Through this, you were doomed to an eternity of pain.”

Xavier felt them. Every serious injury he’d ever taken, the memories of them flashed by in a blink as the world started flashing. Colours. Greys. Colours. Greys. Colours. Greys.

“Having walked beyond the gates of true death, let me show you the way.”

The greys were longer and longer. The moments of colour fading, fast. So was his strength. Xavier could barely stand. He swayed in place, and he wasn’t the only one. Some of his men fell to their knees. Others collapsed fully to hands and knees, their weapons clattering across the deck.

The whole world was grey. Only grey. Then even white leached out of it and everything went black.

“With this grim spear I release you soul, and by my sacrifice, end thee.”

Something reached into his heart and squeezed. He’d stopped breathing the moment the greys started but now he was completely paralysed, unable to breathe, think. It was an eternity and a moment. Then it was suddenly done and the world with all its smells and sound and colours burst into being again.

Xavier stumbled, his weapons dropping from numb fingers as he opened his eyes. He did not remember closing them. He went to one knee but refused to fall further even as some of the men fully collapsed to the deck. He was a noble, an officer, and. He. Would. Stand. It erupted out of him, as it had the last time the Geller field had flickered:

“For the Emperor!”

It was one of the hardest thing he’d ever done, to stand up and scoop up his sabre.

He turned and found stillness. The Magos was laying still, dead. One of his metal appendages wrapped around, turned back to look with a mechanical eye. Of the Inquisitorial party, only two still drew breath. The witch and the soldier next to him, one holding the other. The witch had his eyes squeezed shut, his face a mask of terror.

Xavier would be afraid, but his emotions felt muted. With unsteady feet he walked over to the scene of the… event? Crime? Heresy? He didn’t know. All he knew as that as he checked both the Magos and the Acolyte for a pulse, neither showed any signs of life. This was about to turn into a massive incident. Still, duty compelled him to advance on the hunters, blade drawn.

As he got near, he faltered. Daemons, well, everyone knew that once beaten, daemon’s turned to mist, smoke or fire. In time, their bodies disappear.

This one wasn’t. The red skin had changed. It was washed out, grey in places, mottled with torn flesh and revealed damaged muscles beneath it. But it didn’t decay anymore. As the Hunters gathered before their prize, it wasn’t changing. The dread, the whispers, the smell of unnatural blood, it was all gone.

The daemon didn’t look, didn’t feel like a daemon anymore. It was still an unnatural abomination, alien and mutated, but the… the feel of the thing was gone. It was just a corpse. Even when dead, no daemon Xavier had ever seen was just… like that. Just dead.

Except this one. He was so deep into disbelief, so stunned he poked it with his blade. The flesh parted with ease, as if it was mortal flesh.

Utterly unnerved, he stepped back, his emotions recovering. He wanted, needed to arrest them. But Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth had a feeling that if he ordered that, he’d just die pointlessly. Or if the rumours about the Inquisitorial guards were true, survive, except with his equipment and pride in tatters.

His wandering eyes met the shining green of that woman. Pyrrha Nikos. The Hunter.

“I warned them.” she said.

Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth expected to see something terrible in those eyes. But they were human. Fully and completely. Maybe that was a disguise, a deception or an illusion, but all the naval officer saw was pity and regret. Not for the daemon, but for the dead around them.

Licking his lips, Xavier Ramenhes the Sixth replied: “You did. My report will reflect that.”

She ducked her head in thanks, the way no one with that much power would to him. “Thanks.”

He wasn’t some master of intrigue. To the best of his ability to tell, the gesture and the words were genuine.

“If you have truly rid us of the cause of the curse haunting this venerable vessel for centuries, it is the very least I can do, my Lady.” At the end, his manners caught up with him. Whoever and whatever she was, it was worthy of respect.

With the Inquisition around, let them investigate and judge. He’d just seen a daemon slain, perhaps for good. That was worth some regard.

***

CLASSIFICATION: *Primary Level Intelligence*

CLEARANCE: *Obsidian-Ultima*

ENCRYPTION: *Cryptox v 1.7*

DATE: *3 582 199.M40*

AUTHOR: *Inquisitor Marthesius, Ordo Malleus, Calixian Conclave *

SUBJECT: *Your Wraithbone problem*

RECIPIENT: * Inquisitor Serina Cosano, Ordo Xenos, Calixian Conclave *

“… Nikos has been taken in by the Mechanicus to interrogate her in person and test her knowledge and skill after the incident. From what we’ve discovered from interrogations of her people, I fear that they will affirm her rank of Magos in several disciplines, in skill if not rank. Whether they will also proclaim her a heretek remains to be seen.

The abomination’s body remains in isolation. Looking upon it, I fear my eyes or my heart may lead me astray on the path of the Radical. First, I require a specialist from your Ordo to examine the body and confirm it is not some kind of xenos trick.

My friend, you must come. Things are in motion here and some matters are better shared in person.”

***

While Inquisitors plotted and Mechanicus Magos tried to extort her knowledge of warpcraft from Pyrrha, an innocuous case was traveling, buried among thousands of other deliveries. Hidden among thousands of other cases of ammunition bound towards Scintilla was a small stasis case. No bigger than a single standing arms locker.

It was full of Dust rounds and would give both the Inquisitors and the Magos’s they called on lots of headaches and really complicate the negotiations around the noble writes granted to House Nikos.