A/N: Thanks to my buddy SharkGlue for helping out!

Book Two: Corruption's End

Chapter 53: Regicide and Clockwork

"I can only pray my course does not falter." - the Clockwork Inquisitor

The Lady Highest swallowed once, her throat as dry as the Vacuan desert. Before her master turned and saw the shock that ruled her face, she quickly pushed it under the surface, replacing her surprise with a calm and measured countenance.

Even here, she thought, even a galaxy away, we are all still pawns to you, Ozpin. Parts of a great game where only you could see the board.

"He became an Inquisitor a few decades before the turn of the fortieth millennium," The Hallowed Inquisitor continued, ignorant to his pupil's inner turmoil. "He despised what the Imperium had become. A quagmire of bloated bureaucracy and stagnant complacency. A festering ground for corruption and brutality. A place where a man's life means nothing."

"He sounds like a great man," the Lady Highest offered.

"I did not have the good fortune to meet him," the Hallowed Inquisitor said. "Though I can assure you he was. Just look at our organization," he continued, pale-green flames casting shadows across his face, "look at what it has become."

"It is truly a sight to behold," she replied evenly.

"Indeed. The time to act is now - which is why I have called a great meeting. There, I would have you stand at my side."

Once, the Lady Highest would have been thrilled by the prospect. But now, her head spun, the colossal onyx statue standing above her like a domineering Father. Stern. Judgmental. The Hallowed Inquisitor promised her what she had always sought - power. Power to act, power to effect the reforms she'd meticulously planned.

Power to fill the hole that Ruby left.

The Lady Highest grimaced. That was Yang talking. Had to be.

"I graciously accept your offer, Master," she said. "Though you have called this meeting at a precarious time."

"I am aware. The pursuit of Josephus is nearing its end. Has the party sent to meet Lady Steelshield reported yet?"

"Not yet," she replied. Swallowing, she pushed away the thoughts that plagued her, the doubts of Ozpin's legacy. "Does she have valuable intel?"

"Quite possibly. She is currently the acting representative of the Recongrators to some of our more… esoteric allies. She assured me they have acquired actionable information."

"Esoteric?" The Lady Highest asked. "Have you forged more pacts with the eldar?"

"I have. The eldar of Il-Kaithe were quick to accept our terms… something that surprised even Lady Steelshield. The other agreements are pending, though Ulthwé is coming around. Even their Seer Council knows that in times such as these, our differences are best left dormant."

"I am glad to hear this," The Lady Highest offered. Among all of the xenos in the galaxy, continuing hostilities with the eldar bore the least fruit. Especially now that Abaddon marched on Cadia.

She'd met the Lady Steelshield only once, an intelligent woman who was purportedly once a member of the Mechanicus. She was bubbly and brilliant, but there was an edge behind the cheery facade… her mind spilled over with cruel ingenuity and raw ambition.

"She has brought other grave news though, I fear." The Hallowed Inquisitor said, waving his pupil deeper into the chambers. The Lady Highest obeyed, striding towards the domineering statue of the former Headmaster. They stood between his feet, dwarfed by the colossus of gilded onyx.

"More perilous than Josephus? More perilous than the Chariot of Salvation?"

The Hallowed Inquisitor held his hand up, stilling her protest in its infancy. "Until Lady Steelshield can deliver her intel, we cannot act upon that front. Well, not directly - I have taken precautionary measures."

"Such as?"

"I'm building a strike force. Mere hours after I received your report regarding the Chariot, I began its construction. Regiments are being drawn from reserve - rather than waiting for service on Cadia, they will instead stand ready to take Josephus down."

"This does not strike me as the best option available to us," the Lady Highest protested. "Cadia is the backbone of the Imperium's might. Everything must be spared in its defense. I have managed so far, and I doubt I will require a sizable force to take Josephus down."

"And if you do?" The Hallowed Inquisitor asked, his eyebrow arched. "What then?"

"And what if Cadia requires some of its reserves" The Lady Highest sighed, looking back at the statue of Ozpin. I just pray we haven't doomed ourselves. "Let us not play this game," she said, ending the discussion. Her tutelage under the Hallowed Inquisitor was often fraught with disagreements, as he believed that surrounding oneself with toadies and yes-men could often lead to one's demise. This squabble was no different than one from her earlier years, barring a much larger scale. Letting the Chariot of Salvation fall into the Josephus' hands would be disastrous… but would it be worth losing Cadia? Doubtful.

The Lady Highest breathed deep. "We'll discuss this later, then. What other news does Lady Steelshield bring us?"

"Mars is stirring - something agitates them. She says there is a civil war brewing."

The Lady Highest blanched. "The Mechanicus cannot afford to fight a war with itself," she protested. "Any effort not directed to the Imperial war-effort is tantamount to negligence." Does Magos Tyrham know of this?

"So far, there is no open conflict - instead, the Magi wage war with their cogitators, setting their machine-spirits and hunter programs loose upon each other. Lady Steelshield couldn't determine the precise source of the conflict. Apparently, there is… considerable contention over a point of Mechanicus doctrine."

The Lady Highest frowned. She'd have to ask Magos Tyrham about this. Atroubling development indeed… if the Mechanicus consumes itself on Mars, the effects it would have on the Imperium would be devastating.

Smiling weakly, the Hallowed Inquisitor made the sign of the Aquila. "Unfortunately, the reason I have called you here does not only concern the matter of your promotion."

"Unfortunately not," the Lady Highest agreed. "These are indeed desperate times."

"Together, we shall do what we can," her mentor replied. "I trust you to continue the Clockwork Inquisitor's work. I would have no one else succeed me. Kneel."

The Lady Highest obeyed, kneeling before her mentor, before the statue of her former Headmaster. With a hiss of otherworldly steel, the Hallowed Inquisitor drew his favored weapon from its sheath - a C'tan phase sword.

It was a dark and beauteous blade, one that seemed to drink in every scrap of lime-green light and flickering flame. The Lady Highest licked her lips. Even though it was only a slip of the Star Gods' living metallic flesh, it still drained the psychic energy from its surroundings, its edges flickering in and out of reality. Her head began to pound, and her witch's sight clouded. Beneath this weapon, this sliver of pure being, her soul withered and ached. Even her aura shrank from its touch.

"I know this is difficult for you, so I'll make this brief," the Hallowed Inquisitor said. He touched the flat of the triangular blade to her shoulder. Her teeth ground against each other, and blood seeped forth from her nostrils.

"You stand beneath our Founder, the Clockwork Inquisitor- pure of vision, heart, and soul, he united us, made us whole. So too, does he seek to make the Imperium whole once more. Here, before his last remaining visage, a successor of his will calls you to carry the torch."

This is Ozpin's work all right, the Lady Highest thought, fighting past the urge to vomit and cower beneath the blade that rested on her pauldron. I can almost hear him say the words.

"I accept the burden placed upon me," the Lady Highest said. As if there was another choice. She looked up at Ozpin's unsmiling face. There never was, was there? I am just one of countless pawns those fingers have held. The Hallowed Inquisitor moved the blade to her other shoulder, allowing her to breathe for a brief moment.

"Recite our oath," he said.

"I am a Recongrator. A blazing torch in an age of encroaching darkness. While the Imperium rots from within, while terrors from the beyond erode its borders, I shall march forth to meet them. Fear and avarice have taken hold of the Emperor's vision and polluted His Truth."

While reciting the Recongrator's oath, she cursed inwardly, her thoughts bittered by hindsight. This is Ozpin's brand of rhetoric, through and through. How was I so blind? How did I not see?

Why did I think I was special?

"This I shall not allow. While it is human to feel fear," she continued. "To succumb to it is a weakness of the soul. So I shall protect those who cannot defend themselves, and educate them so that they may one day stand by my side. I will be the arbitrator of the Emperor's will and the shepherd to His flock. It is by His hand I shall repair the Imperium. I ask for His aid, for I am but a candle to His might. I ask for His guidance, for I am weak and imperfect. I ask for his forgiveness, For I am but a humble sinner…"

"And only the Emperor is infallible," they finished together.

"Stand, Weiss Schnee. Today, you are my successor - one of many that will see the Emperor's vision restored."

The Lady Highest obeyed, locking eyes with her former mentor. He slipped the phase blade up his sleeve, and with it, the symptoms it bred. She desperately wished to know what lied in the mind of her mentor, but even sheathed, that… thing was enough to mask his mind, transform his thoughts into a grey and motionless tarn.

"I will do everything I can to honor your decision," she said. I have more mistakes than any man, woman or child. The Headmaster's words seemed to fill the room, flicker from every emerald torch.

When will I be free of you, Ozpin?

The statue did not answer.

Yang hurled herself into the driver's seat, the keys cranking on the ignition before Amat could finish sliding across the hood. A red fury burned in the back of her mind, the kind that smelled like Uriel. Even if she could never burn down Commorragh, she'd be more than happy to play with its residents for a little while.

Hell, maybe Prexius could use a few more test subjects. Stomping on the gas pedal, she shook her head. No no no, that's not me. Not my thoughts. Deep breath.

"Any luck raising them?" Yang asked. Amat shook his head.

"Some kind of interference on comms."

"Fuck. Well assassin-man, time to lock and load." No longer concerned at Yang's blatant disregard for traffic safety laws, Amat retrieved his rifle, his hands reverently caressing the weapon. With a silent prayer on his lips, he slipped a brace of massive rounds into it. His face was taught, lined in total focus.

"I wish I could concentrate on anything half as well as that," Yang said. Ember Celica expanded around her wrists, the gauntlets clacking together to protect her forearms.

Amat ignored her until his prayers were finished. Not even a break-neck turn around a cliffside corner disturbed his ritual.

"It is a learned talent," he said eventually. "One critical to the Vindicare. Patience," he said, couching the rifle against his shoulder. "Patience and an unerring will."

Yang huffed a mirthless laugh. "Well, at least let me take the first crack at them. And if you find yourself low on ammo," she reached under her seat, retrieving her lasgun. Tossing it to Amat, her grin widened. "Go hog wild. Full power. Roast the fuckers."

Amat's lips flickered into a brief grin.

Yang cranked on the steering wheel, hauling them around a sharp turn. Tires screeched against the asphalt, the car trailing skid marks far behind them. She gnawed at her lip, hoping that the kasrkin were okay. If she hadn't been so insistent on getting some fresh air, maybe they wouldn't be in such a difficult position.

Their microbeads crackled, but true to Amat's word, there was too much static to understand anything being said. They're still alive. Hold on. She certainly owed them an apology once they'd finished mopping up the eldar.

A chill ran up her spine, a small battery-lick that hummed along her vertebrae.

"You feel that?" Yang asked, turning to Amat. He gave her a questioning glance. "Guess not." She grimaced. "Something's not right about this."

"Now that I can agree with." A red lance of light seared far above their heads, accompanied by the tell-tale crackle of hellguns.

"Already engaged," Amat noted, checking his exitus pistol. He slid the mag out, checked the first over-sized shell, and rammed it home. "The Emperor protects," he muttered.

"And so do we," Yang said, wearing a toothy grin. One last turn before the manor driveway. Amat pressed a foot against the dashboard, bracing himself and steadying his aim. "When we get there, I'm braking hard, copy?"

Amat nodded. "I'll jump out, provide fire support. Just do your thing," he said.

Yang cracked her knuckles. "You got it."

The car banked into a sharp turn, tires squealing against the driveway pavement. Yang assessed the situation. One of the xenos was providing a barrier for the others, his glossy purple armor glinting in the moonlight as a wall of whorling energies drank in hell-bolts by the dozen. Behind him, lithe forms ducked and dodged, flowing around the barrage of hellgun bolts. None of them returned fire.

Not as spiky as their friends from Uriel, but they'll go down all the same. Yang stomped on the brakes and vaulted herself forward with the momentum. She bellowed a wordless cry, emptying Ember Celica behind her. Golden locks streamed out behind her, a fluttering streak of blinding light.

With a bellow, she struck the purple-clad xenos… only to meet the unmistakable resistance of an aura. A powerful one.

Despite the radiant light of his soul, the xenos went flying, careening into the manor and shattering the front door. Yang stood in shock, and the kasrkins' salvo lulled for a moment. Far inside the Governor's manor, the xenos' aura dissipated, lines of electric-blue energy arcing over his body.

"Hold fire!" Yang screamed, keying her microbead at the same time. From within, she could see Chera ready her hellgun, aiming it at the intruder. "Chera I said hold your fucking fire!"

Now, she had a thorough command of everyone's attention. From the trees around the manor, the xenos emerged, poking their heads out from behind cover. From within, the kasrkin hesitated, violet eyes darting back and forth. Amat's eyes were as wide as her own.

Loose drywall from the eldar's explosive entrance rained down on a hardwood floor, disturbing the silence. He stood, groaning in pain.

"Who are you people?" Yang demanded. She pointed a finger at the eldar. "Why do you have an aura?"

"Yang Xiao Long," a feminine voice sounded out, tremulous and disbelieving. It was little more than a whisper, but to Yang it was deafening. Alien. That voice… Beside her, a woman materialized from a cloud of smoky black tendrils. She was clad in a suit of elegant green armor, her helmet flanked by wicked contraptions and spilling dreadlocks out the back. In her hands she held a slim, curved chainsword and a fancy pistol.

"How do you know my name?" Yang demanded, settling into a fighting stance. Instead of replying, the eldar removed her helmet. Yang's jaw slackened.

Before her stood Pyrrha Nikos, except… not. Her ears were like knives, her face perfectly symmetrical and radiating effortless beauty. But her hair was the same sanguine red, her emerald gaze a mirror image of Pyrrha's.

"Pyrrha?" She hissed. The eldar's shock melted into a smile that radiated warmth, though her angular eyes still wore an expression of incredulity.

"No, Yang. I am Maion Tou'Her of the Craftworld Il-Kaithe. I beg your forgiveness for the confusion… it was always said I resembled my Grandmother."

A/N: I have a feeling a fair number of bets were settled today. Anyway, I'm sure plenty of you saw who the Soul-Wielder was FAR in advance (I did leave an embarrassment of hints), but I hope you enjoyed regardless!

Also, would like to thank you guys for all the great reviews you've been leaving me, Filthy Weeabu Trash in particular. It's always great to get tons of feedback, and I appreciate every word you guys have to give. Your advice and concerns help more than you might know!

Until next time! :D

Oh, and random note - I couldn't find out if Phase Blades did exactly what they did in this chapter, but I figured they should. Since they're different than regular necrodermis, I figured they'd have a very muted Blank Field around them... I wonder how THI got his? ;)