(Links to previous chapters in comments) The Fallen were everywhere. The city was theirs, the defenders of Eden massacred. Sparodic bursts of resistance erupted in the forever twilight world of dust and smoke, sharp snaps of gunfire that were quickly silenced. The dead hung over walls, slumped against what they had thought would offer protection and lay twisted and broken amongst the ruined city debris. Servitors glided majestically over them all, moving along streets once dominated by humans and now owned by the Fallen. Dregs and Vandals ran beside them, heads twisting in eagerness to find the next fight. Mattaus gripped his pistols tightly, knuckles gleaming white. He ground his teeth as he peered around the doorway. “Come on!” He growled. He had waited too long. They had to move. The grate of boots grinding small stone shards into the concrete corridor floor echoed ahead. Twisting, the young man quickly made himself as small as he could against the doorframe whilst raising his guns towards whatever approached. He grunted with the effort and felt fresh blood run down his arm from the shrapnel cuts of an explosion he has been too close to. Petriesen stumbled into view, his shirt ripped and bloody. His eyes swollen, bloodshot and wide. In one hand he held a broken piece of metal piping, in the other a jagged piece of stone. He staggered to a stop as he saw Matthaus. “It’s all lost” he gasped shaking his head. “What about the others?” Matthaus pushed. “If it all went to shit this was the fallback position. Where is everyone else?” “I haven’t seen anyone else. Just Fallen. Fallen everywhere”. A distant alien howl finished his sentence. Petriesen swung around to look back. “They are coming!” He stared back at Mattaus. “We have to leave”. Mattaus licked his lips nervously. “You sure there is no one else?” Petriesen dropped his makeshift weapons and pushed past the younger man and onto the platform behind him. “Everyone is dead boy”. Mattaus stared down the corridor Petriesen had come from. “I’ll leave you if you don’t come now!” Taking a deep breath the young man turned away from the corridor and ran onto the waiting train. As soon as the doors closed the carriage lurched forward, knocking Mattaus from his feet to sprawl on the floor. He pulled himself up, clutching the seat frame as the train violently picked up speed. “What do we do now?” Petriesen shook his head. “We hide. We hope they don’t find Eden. We go back to the original plan”. “But Hausen said...” “If you have any other ideas I’m open to them” the older man snapped. He stared at Mattaus, eyes challenging - demanding a response. The young man could not think of anything to say and eventually shook his head. “Then we go and protect the people that are back there. We have some soldiers left behind. We should be able to seal ourselves in. We’ll leave the train in the tunnel to block it and make the rest of the way back on foot. With a bit of luck the fallen will pass us by”. Mattaus looked sceptically at the older man but after a moment took a deep breath and nodded Petriesen rubbed a dusty bruised hand over his face. He shook his head in despair. “Luck, boy. That’s all we can hope for now”. “Transmission, Great Kell”. The Kell motioned impatiently with a clawed hand to broadcast it aloud in the command centre. “…eat Kell…” the broken voice of the Captain stammered through the static filling the comms channel. “Speak Captain, what do you have for me?” “We… object you…searching for”. The Kell felt the blood pound in its veins as it dared to hope. “Say again Captain. Have you found what we have been searching for?” “…we have… current position…” The Kell shrieked with elation. At last! It swung to face the Dreg standing by the communications station. “Find the Captain’s location NOW”. The Dreg chittered in acknowledgement and after a moment relayed the coordinates. The Kell’s mind raced as it began to pace around the room. [i]Do I trust the Captain to bring it to me? [/i] It stopped abruptly. [i]If the Captain has it then I do not need to to be brought to me. There is no risk. It will heal me.[/i] “Guards, you will accompany me”. Abruptly it strode from the command room, six heavily armoured Vandals emerging from various shadowed recesses around the room and following without hesitation. The Kell made its way into the central hanger, striding swiftly and purposefully. “Pikes!” It roared. Dregs scrambled throughout the chamber to obey their lord, clearing everything so that a group of hovering heavy pikes could be pulled into the centre. One stood out from them all, larger and more ornate than its brethren. It was to this that the Kell walked to and swung into the seat as its guards climbed onto their own mechanical mounts. “Coordinates are set”, it called to its guards as it ignited the pike engines. One after another the guard’s heavy pikes came to life and as they did each moved to surround the Kell. When the last was in position the Kell thrust one arm out before it. “GO!” As a pack of predators, they loped from the hanger. As soon as they cleared the ramp the engines roared and the Fallen raced out into the wastes. [i]"There!" She called pointing off to their right. A cross-country rail line bisected the road leading to the drive-through and on it lay a partially derailed freight train. It's rusted carcass stretched for hundreds of meters in each direction. She ran towards the protection it offered, zig-zagging chaotically to avoid the lances of white energy being spat by the shanks hunting them. A gap between two carriages ahead and to her right stretched just large enough for her body to fit through. With a last random change of direction she raced for it. She just made it. The train shook with the pounding of the shanks fire as she dove through the gap. Rolling to one side she saw that they they had all made it. Hausen smiled at her in relief. He stood further along the wreckage beside the gap created by the connections between two carriages. Picking herself up she ran towards where he stood with his back to the shaking metal barrier. “Fire!" She rose to a crouch as he shouted and fired as they all did through the gap nearest to them. The barrage of shells tore into the shanks. Sparking, they fell broken to the floor. For a moment it was utterly silent, eerily and deafeningly so. All she could hear was the panting of her own breath. She stood and started to brush the dust and sand from her clothes. Searing, stabbing, grinding, consuming pain ignited at her side. She was spinning, unable to breath for the sudden and unbearable agony exploding through her body. Something hit her head and grey fog dimmed the world, muffling everything except the pain as it pulsed its venom through her. The grey and the pain. Thats all there was. Then...[/i] Mirim stared at cold dark stone. Her eyes slowly traced the angular lines as her mind tried to understand what she was looking at and where she was. The last thing she remembered was the train, the shanks. The pain. "How are you feeling Mirim?" The young woman turned to look at the source of the voice and stared at the spectacled man in confusion. “Where am I” she managed to croak. “Water”, the man said firmly as he turned away from her. “You must drink and carefully. You have been out for quite a while and the tube that was down your throat has probably made it quite tender”. He turned back with a glass of water in his hands. The sight of the water suddenly made Mirrim realise just how thirsty she was and she reached for it eagerly. “Slowly”, the man cautioned. “You’ll throw it up unless you sip slowly”. Mirrim did as she was told and felt the harsh dryness in her mouth abate slightly. The water was Lukewarm, but to her it was utterly delicious. As he took the glass from her she looked around. She was in a large room with a rough stone wall on one side and white washed walls everywhere else. “Where am I?” She repeated. “Eden”. She stared at the man, face creased into a frown. “Underground agricultural complex. Your friends brought you here”. She continued to stare at him without comprehension. “Felcia, Hausen and...” “My father? My father is here?” The man shook his head as he stood and walked to a trolley bed nearby. She had not noticed them before, but there were dozens around her. Most with blood stained sheets. “Was”, Alfred said. “They are out there protecting us now”. “Protecting? From who?” “From what. The Fallen”. Mirrim shivered. She tried to sit up and the world abruptly dissolved into a churning chaos of colours and textures that forced her back down. “Easy”, the man said tenderly, suddenly by her side. “You are lucky to be alive. Your body is weak, you need some time to get your strength back”. Mirrim nodded slightly, fighting off a sudden onset of nausea. “Are we safe?” she whispered. The man hesitated. His tired eyes met hers. “When have we ever been safe?”