A/N: Good news, everyone! A World of Bloody Evolution has a TV Tropes page now! All thanks to MrTerrorist, who is super-special-awesome.

Alright, no brakes on the RWBYhammer 40k train! :D

Let's go, people!

Book Two: Corruption's End

-Chapter 12: Voices in the Warp-

"Buckling under the weight of the Despoiler's accursed warships, the Imperial Navy could not contain the splinter fleets that slipped through its defenses. Free from censure, these corsairs reaved and pillaged to the content of their foul hearts. Like all evils, they were shattered against the will of the Emperor's faithful. But they were not repulsed cheaply." – From 'An Account of the Forty-Second Millennium', unknown author, who is presumed to be an Astartes

Remnant.

The day they buried Yang Xiao Long was bright and sunny, as befitting the young woman they laid to rest. Patch was a good as place as any to bury her, entombing her within the rolling hills and shaded glens of her birthplace seemed appropriate. Her gravestone was a simple thing, a slab of black onyx stone with a bright yellow heart engraved upon it.

It had been a small affair, her funeral. Even now, the last of the mourners shuffled away, clad in blacks that seemed alien to the resplendent summer day they inhabited. Two remained.

Blake Belladonna, long since bereft of tears, sat silently before the grave of her best friend, her bright yellow eyes rendered puffy and bloated by grief. Weiss Schnee stood beside her, the last two remnants of Team RWBY, the White Knights of Beacon Academy. To anyone who saw them there, they would not assume more of them than 'close friends of the deceased'. No one could mistake them for the heroes that saved Remnant from the greatest danger it had faced in centuries.

"I haven't spoken to her in a year, you know." Blake said, knees stained by the loam of her friend's grave. Yang Xiao Long. 343AW-365AW. Beloved Daughter, Sister, Friend, and Guardian of Remnant. Weiss knew.

"I know." She said, her hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"She was drunk, mumbling something I couldn't even understand." Blake choked on a sob, but the tears would not come. "That was it." A deep breath rattled in her chest, hitching in her throat in stuttering gasps. "It's my fault. I should have-" Weiss shook her head.

"There was nothing more you could have done." That was a lie, one told for sincerest of purposes, but a lie all the same. They could have stopped Yang's descent, hunted her down and salvaged her from the depths of her despair. Could have. Didn't.

Ruby's death had hit them hard, Yang the worst of all. Weiss still loved her fallen leader, still wept over words not shared and roads not taken. But she stood once more, rising to the challenge she'd been born to, refusing to succumb to what her teammate had become. She had a purpose, after all. Yang had not been so fortunate.

"We should go, Blake." Weiss said, careful not to rush her friend. Her hands worked the ribbon of Blake's bow, the straps unfolding to reveal her ears. The faunus girl didn't move. Slowly, she removed it, curling it within the palm of her teammate. "It's time to say goodbye."

Nodding, Blake's hand caressed the ebony stone before casting her bow into the wind. She never wore another one.

The procession that left the Lady Inquisitor's office was silent, a column of soldiery that crawled through the steepled halls of her Black Ship. Yang's head was pounding, a hammer and anvil that did not relent for a single moment. Facts that were clear as day lay before her, but they seemed as monstrous and alien as the orks she'd slaughtered mere weeks ago.

It was so much to take in, all at once. Yang felt her fists clenching as she tried to make sense of it all. She failed. Her shoulder ached, Weiss' glyphs seemed to burn through the tunic cloth that covered them, a searing, holy brand. She clutched at it, hoping the pain would recede. One of the guardsmen noticed, nodding at her behind her sheer white mask.

"Our Lady's blessing. We all bear it." She said, pointing to her own shoulder.

"You have one of these too?"

"All of us who serve Her do. It's not a traditional blessing by any means, but it's one we appreciate. It is a daily reminder of our duty, and brings us comfort." She paused, unsure how to continue. "I can't describe it exactly. It just feels… warm."

"The Emperor protects." Yang replied, offering the woman a common Imperial platitude, hoping she'd let her stew in her thoughts for a little while longer. It was a hopeless pursuit.

"Look, Trooper Yang. My husband and I have been with the Lady Inquisitor for almost twenty years. I've come to know her quite well. She doesn't put her faith in many people, and her deciding to trust you means you are a promising individual. For the sake of the Emperor, don't misplace that trust." I'd certainly hope she trusts me. Yang thought, with a dark chuckle. I've known her since she was seventeen… for the first time. She shuddered. Just thinking about it felt weird. The mysteries of this place kept building, kept piling atop one another like corpses on the battlefield. What of Blake? She wondered. Her best friend was probably here too, and the thought gave her pause. She'd barely thought of Blake since arriving in the Imperium.

Guilt burrowed itself in her stomach. I'm a terrible person. After Ruby died, she'd shut away too much of herself, took too much of her life for granted, keeping it stored away for that nebulous time when she'd 'feel better'. Blake, you better be here too. I don't care if they call you a mutant, I'd burn whole planets before I let them touch you.

After leaving her behind like she did, she owed her that much.

Resurfacing from her thoughts, Yang did her best to listen to the black-clad woman as she continued to ramble about Weiss, but it was difficult. She did not seem accustomed to speaking at length. The guards dumped the two rangers in front of a shuttle, the bulkhead doors opening with a grinding metal screech, shocking Yang from her reverie. Greeting them was a voidborn pilot, long and lanky in his pilot's uniform.

"Sorry ladies, but we're waiting on Colonel von Israfel. We'll be off as soon as he arrives."

"Thanks." Ros mumbled, after Yang said nothing.

"Serviceman Chung." The man said, extending his hand. Ros met it. He winked at them. "I have a feeling we'll be acquainted soon enough. The Lady Inquisitor does not bestow her gifts lightly." Chung said, nodding at Yang's power sword. "You must be one of her new favorites. I'm just the one who flies her everywhere," he said, kicking at the floor, "but do I get a fancy sword? No sir, no way."

"What use would you have for a sword?" Yang said, resting her new weapon on her shoulder.

"I… uh… good point, Trooper." He coughed. "Excuse me. Pre-flight diags to run." They settled into their seats, soft leather welcoming them with a muted hiss. This was nothing like anything the 111th had. It felt more like a private jet than the simple and barebones landers the Ascendant Dawn bore. Ros shuffled in her seat, trying to avoid her gaze. Pushing aside the maddening spin of her questions and musings for a moment, Yang nudged her friend.

"Something wrong?"

"Yang… look…" Ros said, hands intertwined. "I'm sorry about turning you over like that. I betrayed you. Holy Throne of Terra, I almost killed you!" She sniffed, trying to keep tears from falling. "All because of a misunderstanding. I can't… I can't imagine what would have happened if I killed you. I…I don't think I could have lived with myself."

"Ros." Yang whispered.

"I... I'm sorry. I know it doesn't mean much." Yang pulled her into a crushing hug.

"It's… ok. You didn't know. I didn't even know. Don't beat yourself up over it." She put on her most convincing grin. "I think what we should worry about is a very angry Commissar." Ros paled.

"Holy Emperor. I nearly forgot. Yang, you destroyed him."

"You guys beat up a Commissar and you're both still alive?" Chung asked, head poking out from behind the door to the pilot's cabin.

"Is it too much to ask for at least one private conversation?" Yang growled.

"I serve under an Inquisitor. Eavesdropping has become a habit." He said, wearing a weary smile. "Sorry. I'll… fuck off." Before shutting the door, he stopped. "Although, if you assaulted a Commissar and your reward is a power sword, rest easy, the Lady Inquisitor will put your fears to rest." He winked, and the metal door slid shut with a hiss.

"Just… who is this woman?" Ros asked.

Weiss Schnee, Yang almost answered.

Commissar Anton Daniloft dabbed at his split lip, blood soaking the linen rag between his fingers. His armor was cracked and splintered, and one of his eyes was swollen shut, pulsing an angry purple. This was Yang's work, no doubt about it.

"I'm sorry, my Lady. I fear the witch did quite a number on me." The Lady Inquisitor gave him a radiant smile.

"You did your best." Considering who you fought, you did damn well. "You are a brave man, Commissar." The man had fought an ork warboss, and lived to tell the tale. In all honesty, Weiss was more shocked about him surviving Yang. He had not lied once in his recount. The Lady Inquisitor detested most Commissars, finding their habit of killing their soldiers repugnant and cruel. She saw this man had performed ten such executions, and regretted every one. Good. He is usable.

"Look Anton, I'm sorry about this. You deserve better."

"About what, my Lady?" With a psychic thrust, she possessed him, rooting him to the spot as he screamed a dull, toneless note. Blood spurt forth from his nose, leaking into his open mouth. Her cursory inspection of the man had been accurate, and further mental spelunking recovered little else of note.

Ripping the memories of Yang from his mind, she smashed them into oblivion under the heel of her power. She left nothing, not a single strand of golden hair for him to remember. He screamed and screamed, his mind pushing feebly against hers. It was like pebble trying to hold back a tsunami. His pain was palpable, thrashing and searing hot. She retreated for a moment.

"Commissar, are you unwell?"

"I…" He recovered, blood still leaking from both nostrils. "I seem to have spaced out for a moment. Where am I?"

"You were recovering from your clash with the warboss."

"I was recovering from my clash with the warboss." He intoned.

"You fought admirably."

"I fought admirably."

"I am congratulating you for your service, and returning you to your posting."

"I am accepting an Inquisitor's congratulations, who is returning me to my post.

"You won't be performing any more executions."

"I won't be performing any more executions."

He stood and left, feet scraping and hobbling over the floor of her office. His coat swirled behind him, tattered and bloodstained. Releasing her hold on the warp, she sat back in her chair. She sighed. Despite her sheer power and the guiding surety of her aura, it took an enormous amount of concentration to so fully immerse herself in the mind of another. Her stomach turned as well, roiling in protest at wiping his mind clean like a data-slate.

The Lady Inquisitor poured herself some wine. In a few days, her newly-formed task force would make their departure. She had already contacted her astropathic choir, sending word to the Cadian defenses about her arrival. Preparations and restocking took time, and she hadn't expected to find the rogue psyker so quickly. She was on-schedule, but frustration still ate at her.

Abaddon.

Heretics.

The Amalathians.

And now Yang Xiao Long. The friend she'd given up for dead long before she shoveled the dirt over her grave. Her life would have been simpler if it had been anyone else from Remnant. I would have preferred Ruby, of course, but I will make of this what I can. Yang's sheer potential cannot be understated. And if my designs come to fruition…

For a while, she dreamed of a re-united Team RWBY, fighting under together once more under the banner of the Imperium. It was a glorious, wondrous dream. Her kasrkin officers knocked on her door after an hour. She let them in.

"I've seen Commissar Daniloft to his shuttle." Darron said. "He seemed unwell."

"He's had a frightening experience on Elodia." She sipped her wine. "Think nothing of it. We're entering the Warp soon. Steel yourselves. Our truest test awaits us."

Working her way back through the Ascendant Dawn, Yang felt Ros' eyes on her. After a few hours of watching the stars pass by, she'd managed to sort her mind out into something resembling order. Now, she wore a large smile. I have a chance fix things. She thought. The Imperium, and the results of my own stupid, selfish despair. Things were looking up.

"You okay, Yang?" Ros asked, appraising her with worried eyes. She laughed, beaming at her friend.

"Yeah, I'm good!"

"Does your shoulder hurt?" She asked. Yang rolled her shoulder, feeling the burning skin stretch and contract.

"Yeah. 'S going away though." She said. Ros clapped her on the back, careful to avoid agitating the markings.

"I'm so relieved you're not a psyker. Now you have a power sword too!" She gave a low whistle. "Can't wait to watch you kick some ass with that thing."

"Neither can I!" They chatted awhile before returning to barracks 0914, and Gamma platoon. It was nice to see Ros being her usual self. When they finally arrived, she nodded at the door.

"You ready?" Yang grinned.

She kicked the door open, sending the bulkhead slamming against the inside wall. "Guess who's back!?" Shocked cries burst forth, washing over Yang in a tide of jubilation. Mael was the first to reach her, crushing her with a silent embrace. Caolin picked Ros up, swinging her around as she gave a squeal of protest.

"What on Holy Terra were you two up to?!" Rhain bellowed, shoving aside their curious comrades. He appraised them both, hands on his hips, suspicion furrowing his brow. "We heard Yang was a psyker, and you were taken to the Inquisitor!" Ros stiff-armed Caolin, holding him at arm's length.

"It's… Rhain, it's incredible! Yang… she's not a psyker at all! She was just suffering residual warp effects from killing -get this- a traitor marine."

Suddenly, silence. A pin drop would be deafening.

Mael performed the sign of the aquila, and Rhain's beads worked through his fingers at lightning speed. Yang laughed, breaking the quiet.

"She gave me this as thanks." She hefted the power sword. "And this," she added, rolling up her sleeve, "to purify me completely." The mark elicited astonished gasps from the soldiers, who looked upon the holy writ with undisguised awe.

"Easy there!" Yang said, waving away the shocked looks. "This is just Wei- The Lady Inquisitor's seal! In case you didn't hear, she's taken charge of the Regiment. We're to be her sword during the Black Crusade!" Ros slammed her heel into the barracks floor.

"Àuh! Praise the Emperor!" Gamma platoon mimicked her movements.

"ÀUH! PRAISE THE EMPEROR!" They bellowed, their feet raining against the Ascendant Dawn's hull. Jorvis stormed towards them, chomping on a fat cigar. His red eye twitched and whirred, flickering between Ros and Yang.

"Well fuck all kinds of duck. You're alive." A puff of smoke. "You," he waved at Gamma Platoon, "leave. I need to speak with Trooper Xiao Long." They obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Very reluctantly. "You too, Corporal Firecrotch." Ros huffed, stomping off after the rest of her comrades.

"What is it sir?" Yang asked, giving him an enthusiastic salute. Nothing could ruin her mood. Weiss Schnee (Weiss Schnee!) is an Inquisitor, I have an awesome sword, and we're off to stuff a boot up Abaddon's ass.

"I don't care what title the Inquisitor gave you. My word is still law, and if you get all uppity and have a problem with that, then you're going to have a problem with me. You are still a Trooper, Yang Xiao Long."

"Of course sir! Honestly," She kicked at the floor and gave her sergeant a wide grin, "I wouldn't be anywhere else." It was the truth. Leadership was her sister's strong suit.

"Glad to hear it." He took a deep drag of his cigar, knocking the ash onto the floor. "Although with that thing on your arm, and that shiny new sword, you will soon become the moral center of our platoon. I can't stop that from happening, no more than I can get you to shave that ridiculous hair of yours." Yang shrugged. He was right about the hair, no matter how rudely he put it. "So play the role. They will fight harder -and live longer- with you at the forefront of the battle. Those are your standing orders, Trooper Xiao Long." She saluted.

"Sir, being in the thick of it is my specialty." He grunted.

"So I've seen." Jorvis stalked off, closing the bulkhead behind him. Before a single second could pass, her comrades once again surrounded her, pouring questions upon her

"So what was the Inquisitor like?"

"What did she say to you?"

"You killed a traitor marine?" She raised her hands, shouting above the clamor.

"Easy, guys, easy! One at a time!"

"The traitor marine!" Rhain bellowed. "How'd you do it?" Yang sighed. She'd avoided mentioning the incident to her friends before, as Hilde's head had been on the monster's trophy rack. It was still an uncomfortable subject. She recalled Jorvis' words about keeping their morale up. So she smiled instead, cracking her knuckles.

"I punched him in the face." Rhain's jaw dropped. "Really hard." More questions assaulted her.

"You're definitely not a psyker, then?" Asgeg asked, her blue eyes raking over Yang, suspicious and fearful. Apparently, Ros' word wasn't good enough.

"I'm not." She said. Their faces broke into grins at this, pleased to hear her say the words herself. Yang giggled.

"She certainly doesn't drink like one." Ros said. A few laughs. Yang wrapped an arm around her, who turned to address the crowd. "I can tell you about the Inquisitor though. She's an incredible woman." And an old friend of mine. Yang thought. "No matter what we face in the future, she'll have our back, as long as we have hers. We're gonna see some scary shit, but it's our job now," she raised a fist, "as part of the Inquisition, to purge it all! With holy fire, we will descend upon Abaddon, and the forces of will come to know our names, know our deeds, and fear the black-clad warriors of Woadia!"

Yang hollered in glee, clapping her friend in the back and raising a fist in the air. Gamma platoon echoed her cry, their voices resounding throughout the Ascendant Dawn, strong and proud.

It had been two days since meeting Yang. Her retinue and newly acquired regiment had been stocking up for battle. The Lady Inquisitor had requisitioned a squadron of tanks from the Elodian PDF, who had made pious noises at her, delighted to offer their services to an Inquisitor. Ten Leman Russ MBT's, and several Chimeras, each stocked with enough shells for two months of campaigning. During those two, agonizing days, she'd felt an itch under her skin, red waves of hatred and contempt for Despoiler filling her mind. Now, finally, they could depart.

However, hours before departing for Cadia, the Lady Inquisitor's astropath choir received a burst of communication so thick and fierce it nearly killed them. They howled and lashed, forcing her to break open their minds and flood them with peaceful, calming images. The messages themselves made little sense to her however, as only fully-trained astropaths could completely decipher the warp-noise of superluminal communication. Her soul-binding had not been enough to give her such talents.

Her foot tapped impatiently while they recovered, sipping at recaf and shaking.

"Well?" The first one, Wind-Through-The-Valley (Wilver for short), dabbed at his bloody nose with the arm of his voluminous black-fur robes.

"I… I have a magenta-level missive for my Lady from the Lord Castellan of Cadia himself." The other astropaths lolled listlessly at his words, drooling slightly. Wilver handed her a roll of vellum, where he'd etched the message in the skin by his simple hunting knife. He was raised as a hunter on the feral world of Kuwala, and felt a strong connection with his primal roots. So strong was his bond with his homeworld, he found he could interpret messages with astounding clarity when he scribed them upon skins of prey from Kuwala. Wind-Through-The-Valley was her best astropath, rescued from feeding the Astronomican by the Lady Inquisitor herself after sensing his potential.

She snatched the skin from his trembling hands, opening it wide. The writing was scratched and patchy, and most of it was rendered in Kuwalan script, and obscure metaphors, but the Lady Inquisitor deciphered it with ease.

Lady Inquisitor, it read, I have received word that you are approaching Cadia with a regiment of heavy guardsmen, nine thousand strong. I beg of you, do not. As desperate as we are for men, one regiment of guardsmen will not make a difference. However, I fear a conspiracy is building around Cadia. Many neighboring systems have fallen to Chaos, and at a pace unseen for millennia. I fear the work of a great power. I am not so presumptuous as to give orders to an Inquisitor, but still, I formally request you look into the matter. If you truly wish to aid the defenses, find this threat and eliminate it. The most recent planet to fall is Jala Prime, and is the most likely place to find this growing threat. If my fears turn out to be misplaced, you are welcome to join us on the front lines.

Under the Light of His Majesty the Emperor, on his Most Stalwart Fortress, signed Lord Castellan Ursarkar Creed

The Lady Inquisitor read the message, then read it again. Something was wrong, the last Lord Castellan had been Marus Porelska. Who was Ursarkar Creed?

"This came from Cadia?" She demanded. Wilver sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

"Directly from Cadia." She pondered this. If Cadia could still send messages, it was still holding. And if this Creed is right about outlying systems falling to Chaos…

One of her other astropaths, Calista, tugged at her sleeve, mousy and shy. Blind eyes started at the floor, her bright orange hair folding back into her black and silver-trimmed robes.

"Ma-Ma'am. R-reports from outside Cadia. F-forty systems have f-fallen, and eighty more are engaged in open r-rebellion." Calista wiped at tears that brimmed around the corners of her milk-white eyes. "There's so many b-b-b-bodies! Oh Emperor!" She wailed.

The Lady Inquisitor hissed, fury seeping through her veins. She'd spent the past forty years uncovering and quashing nascent rebellions and cults across the Segmentum Obscurus. To have so many fall at once! Her stomach turned, and Creed's words of a conspiracy flashed in her mind.

"Where?" She demanded, shaking Calista's shoulders. "Which systems?!" The astropath only wept, shaking her head and pawing at the Inquisitor in a feeble attempt to free herself. "Calista, I need to know!" Too many Warp-damned years spent trying to fix this fucking place, all to have it go to shit in the course of a week!

"G-give me a little b-bit my Lady. I need to m-make sense of everything." She hunched over, moaning and pulling her hood over her eyes. The Lady Inquisitor sighed, trying to quell her rising anger. Poor girl. Only nineteen, and cursed with a wellspring of astropathic talent. The Lady Inquisitor had an idea of what she saw on those fallen planets, and it did not aid her efforts to calm herself. Quite the opposite.

"You!" She rounded on the final member of her choir. Taki was out cold, slow breaths bubbling in a pool of blood-stained vomit. "Oh, Emperor damn it all!" She balled up the vellum report and hurled it at Wilver, who caught it reverently. "Stay on stand-by. Someone take him to the med-bay!" She cried, pointing at Taki. She turned. "Captain Barnes!"

The man scrambled forward, hurrying off his command throne. He bowed low, causing his captain's hat to tumble off, and his raven-black ponytail to fall free.

"Yes my Lady, how can I help you my Lady?"

"Have our Navigator set change course for Jala Prime, and instruct the Ascendant Dawn to do the same!"

"Right away, my Lady." Barnes stooped low to retrieve his cap, fixing it on his head while he bellowed orders.

"You heard her! Re-adjust course immediately! Someone get Captain Nylund on the horn yesterday!"

The Lady Inquisitor stormed out of the bridge, boots hammering the metal floor. This Creed had the right of it, damn him. Darron and Chera won't be pleased. Cadia will have to wait. Duty has called me elsewhere.

Damn, she thought, slipping into her office. When was the last time I slept?

A glass cage held her, suffocating her, strangling her in its indifference. Yang hammered at the plated glass with Ember Celica, each strike useless and pitiful. Not a single scratch, nothing, nothing nothing nothing at all.

let me out let me out i can't breathe in here

She was a bug under a microscope, twisting, writhing, speared to her dissection slide. The light around her burned her, boiled away what little oxygen remained. Her surroundings beyond the cage were black and all-consuming.

Red. It filled her vision, towered over her prison. Red like roses. No, no, not like Ruby, it wasn't Ruby, wasn't the good red, huntress-red. She snarled.

those are her colors, she hollered as laughter bubbled forth from the darkness, a laughter that shook her, shook her to pieces.

The other members of Team RWBY stood over her, grief pulling their features tight. Weiss' hand traced over the glass, sad, just too fuckin' sad! They couldn't hear the mad laughter oh no, no they couldn't. They would be running if they could.

A mirror-Yang stood with them, clasping hands with her teammates. Her little eyes went wide as the laughter blared, and they shrieked as the red swallowed them whole, the warp-maw of a deity beyond her comprehension.

Yang screamed until flecks of blood spattered across the glass, torn loose from her scorched and shredded throat.

Yang awoke, swimming in sweat-soaked sheets and sucking in reeling, gasping breaths. Her nose was bleeding. Springing from her bunk, she dashed to the bathroom, hurling her shitty nutrient-gel dinner into a stained and filthy toilet. Visions of untold suffering and chaos assaulted her, mass graves full of half-eaten corpses, wetted by cesspools of gore and fetid, rotting limbs. They were garbled and spotty, but no less gut-wrenching.

Her fist hammered against the stall, ringing loud in the empty washroom. Vomit spilled forth once more, and the glyphs on her shoulder pulsed an angry, polluted gold. Focus Yang. Aura. Aura seems to work. Taking deep breaths through her nose, she rested against the door. The murderous impulses came back too, taking advantage of her weakened state. She battered them away, fighting tooth and nail as she focused on the image of Ruby.

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, and the redness faded away, washed away in wave of yellow light. She watched the light seep from the etchings, thanking Weiss with a small, silent smile. They'd brought an immeasurable sense of relief. Wiping her mouth on her arm, she sat back against the stall door.

Well I know one thing for sure, Yang thought, shit has hit the fucking fan.

A/N: A somewhat filler chapter, but wholly necssary. It frames almost this entire arc, and introduces some stuff for later on.

Sorry for not going straight to Cadia though. I promise you though, some crazy stuff is happening in the galaxy, and not all of it's on Cadia...

What'd you think? Please, please, please let me know! The support for this story has been overwhelming, and I love each and every single one of you guys! Keep 'em coming, I love to hear from you! :3

Review Replies:

Zedicus101: Not quite her girlfriend! haha Glad you liked it!

the metaphysical god of heroes: Hehe your reactions are always fun to read! :D It's good that Weiss left a sour taste in your mouth. She knew Yang for five years... a blink of the eye compared to the rest of her extended life.

The Walrus of Eden: Yeah, I was tempted just to give her a powerfist... but come on, you'd have expected that!

CryptIXKeeper: You and everyone else hahaha

DanAbnettFan1997: I'm pleased you like it! I won't give too much details on the mechanism of their arrival, but it certainly has potential!

reality deviant: I love keeping you in suspense! :D

snoogenz: Weiss is hard to write for. I'm thrilled you're enjoying her!

RED Roman Pyro: I guess we'll see, huh? ;)

Bear of Cali: It's got a TV Tropes page now! Go make a WMG section and fill it up! :D

giodan: Yuss! Love me some Gaunt's Ghosts!

OBSERVER01: Interesting theories! :D

TheSpawn117: Agreed!

SixPerfections: Wow, thanks for your awesome review! The reunion was tough to write, but I figured the sheer shock of seeing each other in such a hostile galaxy would override any negativity that lingers between them. And yeah, Blake mentions this chapter, with reasoning on why there have been so few. :P The story is about 50/50 on Yang and Weiss from this point on, so I think you'll be fine haha. I'm thrilled you're still enjoying it so much!

MrTerrorist: Daw, you're seriously the best. I'm sorry for the mix-up, I fixed it everywhere I could! You rock!

Yoshtar: Huh, some interesting theories! I guess we'll see what happens!

Gafgar: I'm glad you liked it! It was honestly the first thing I thought of, but the concept grew on me, and I developed the concept to what it is now. Hope you stick with me! :D

Nemris: Dude, these are awesome! As for the Lady Inquisitor... I'd suggest drafting some concepts. ;)

Kamelnikov: Eesh. Disturbing thought!

dksamuri: Doin' muh best! :D

Sithslayer78: I would too, but she wasn't on there for too long, so it wouldn't really make sense. Oh well. :P

LegionOfMisfits: Holy shit! I'm so flattered! I'm thrilled you like my stories so much. And ditto, if you want to chat, hit me up on reddit, here, or SV/SB!

Damn, I have the best fans. Seriously though. Loving this response!

Shit's goin' down next chapter!