Running through the corridor, Caspian feels a gust of wind move over his back. The blades of the Necron Flayed One brush past him, aggravating the wound already present there.
Ahk
He crashes through a metal door, using his shoulder for leverage. With a loud bang, the door crashes down with him in tow.
Scrambling to his feet, he sees a series of ladders, stairs, and rail lines going up and down the massive mining complex.
He has to get out of here. Making a swift decision, he vaults over the railings and launches himself toward an adjacent stairwell. Activating the mag-lock boots, he is able to secure a foothold on the steps.
Behind him, the Necron comes through the broken door. With a hissing sound that reminds Caspian of what steam-powered engines sound like, the abomination locks onto him and starts calculating an intercept route.
It seems to make a decision and just jumps across to where Caspian is. Caspian rushes to climb higher but forgets to disengage the grav-locks on his boots and reacts half a step too late.
BOOM.
He collides with the Necron, which sends him flying with enough force to disengage the grav-locks. He collides with the railing of the platform; it breaks, and before he can gain his balance, he tumbles over.
He falls through the vertical tomb of rusted girders and jagged rebar, hitting railings, stairs, and tracks.
He initially tries to grab onto one of the railings, but due to the speed of his fall and the fragility of the location, he easily breaks them and just keeps going.
As he falls, the loose metals that he dislodges follow him down. Falling for 150 meters through steel is not something anyone can describe.
He smashes into the floor of the mining shaft, opening the wounds on his hands and back, and aggravating the newer wounds sustained from the fall. The air is stagnant and thick with the smell of old grease and copper-heavy blood.
ARK
The very air is knocked out of him. His ribs don't just puncture his lungs; they are ivory splinters tearing through oxygen-starved tissue, turning every shallow breath into a wet, bubbling wheeze.
His whole body is broken in too many places, and blood comes from his head. As he is about to move, the various metal pieces come crashing down on him, burying him within a pile of rubble.
His breathing becomes shallow, his vision a blur of metal and blood, his mind in a fog not as agile as it once was.
Some of his parts are bent in ways that are not natural, and his blood spills everywhere. His expression is not one of fear of death; it is more a frustration of his current situation.
("Guys I think I am going to die again, I don't know when I will wake up. I have a Necron Flayed One chasing me.") Understanding his situation, Caspian says to his fragments.
Caspian is not really worried about death, it will not be his first, second, or third time.
("[Logic-Gate: Critical]")
("[Query]: Origin-Unit Caspian, provide verification of 'Revival' protocol. [Analysis]: Previous instances of 'Life-Reset' correlate to [Data-Link: Unknown]. Current physical trauma exceeds 88% threshold for biological termination.") Magos Ferrum-Rho's voice sounds over.
("Agreed. Pain is a temporary sensory error, Caspian. Survival is a command, not a choice.") comes the voice of the ever-silent Custodian Aurelian Gaius Trajan.
("What …. am … I …. supposed… to … do...") Caspian replies with great difficulty. Even though he is communicating with his mind, it has become a burden to him.
("Find a way to survive. You can never know what you are capable of without pushing yourself.") Aurelian says.
("[Response]: probability of malfunctioning within fragments could occur in a situation of origin's termination.")
'So that is what he is worried about. What could I expect of a Magos.'
The conversation, though it sounds longer, is actually almost instantaneous.
Communication with the mind occurs at speeds vastly different from spoken communication. Caspian tries to maintain consciousness, but it is becoming increasingly difficult, and he finally passes out.
("[]")
("")
Both Aurelian Gaius Trajan and Magos Ferrum-Rho pause what they are doing when they notice no other answer from Caspian. They wait to know what the consequence of the original's death will be.
With the Emperor, the Sigillite, and the Commander Constantine Valdor nearby, Aurelian does not know what the consequence will be if he exhibits any behavioral anomalies.
Magos Ferrum-Rho's situation is, to an extent, even more dangerous. He is currently in battle against an Ork Freebooter warband.
Though few in number, they constitute almost all of his focus and calculations. He only has 1,000 Skitarii in his legion, and their performance in his eyes is less than optimal.
1 minute, 5 minutes, 30 minutes, up to an hour pass, and nothing happens.
("[Analysis]: based on current information, origin unit has a 70% probability to still be functional.") Ferrum-Rho says to Aurelian.
("It is a high probability,") Aurelian agrees.
("[Conclusion]: either origin expires and it has minimal effect on fragments, or origin has not expired. [Analysis]: if it is A, then we have nothing to worry about, but if it is B, we will have to plan for such a possibility.")
Meanwhile, Caspian, under the rubble of steel, is exhaling shallow breaths. The Necron Flayed One drops down to the floor of the mining shaft to harvest the skin of its latest hunt.
It is a methodical search, a terrifying scraping of metal on metal, a rhythmic clink-slide that signals its inevitable arrival.
Caspian, on the other hand, is having a dream. A dream about humans. A dream about a time when man was still bent over and living in caves.
He watches as they create fire, he watches as they organize into tribes, he watches as man progresses through life.
They create new ways to battle; they create ways to survive longer, they build cities to temper the wilderness. Humans wage war against each other, they create increasingly powerful weapons of war, even at the risk of their own planet.
Humans find a way to absolve their misdeeds in religion. As they develop, it becomes a way for them to ease their hearts and minds. They place their worship in what they believe is beneficial.
Then comes enlightenment. Technology supersedes everything. They seek the stars and get answers. They go out into the galaxy with hope and enthusiasm.
Then there is darkness, one unforgiving and insidious.
Caspian watches all these things in full view. There is one thing that sticks with him, though. When man was still in the caves, they made paintings, within which he sees some that match the tattoos on his body.
When he remembers those images, something he does not know happened occurs on his body. All his tattoos darken and are filled out, each of them having a golden outline.
His eyes open, they are shining silver.
He looks at the Necron sorting through the rubble to get to him. With a flick of his finger, the Necron Flayed One is sent out of the shaft, out of the mining installation, and back to the small entrance.
The Flayed One looks confused at first, then a silver light flashes over its eyes, and it turns around and leaves.
Meanwhile, Caspian, unaware of this, closes his silver eyes again and sleeps. The tattoos on his body go back to being black outline sketches without any fill and no golden outline.
Except for the tattoos of the Gear and Glaive, which retain a brighter golden outline.