[Castorum, Two Millennia after Consortium Emergence, 212 years after Infestare emergence]

  High above the blighted clouds lay the red sun of a once treasured home, its crimson majesty having been long since desecrated by an enemy Yrix knew far too well. Her people, the Consortium, had given up their lofty plans of reclaiming the planet years ago. But even as the fauna lay dead, and the oceans dried, there were still relics dear to the emperor that had to be reclaimed. Henceforth, as per royal decree, there would be a great crusade upon the planet, heralded by a legion of vessels.

  "Landfall imminent. Watch for solar flares," a bellowing voice spoke over the intercom.

  "Are they fools?" Yrix thought to herself, using her Psionic gaze to peer through the minds of the crew stationed outside. "To plan our exercise at the same time as the controlled burn."

  The Arch-Flayer, as she was begrudgingly named, stood pensively at the center of a vast hangar, whose crude rustic bays were filled to the brim with warriors eager for battle. It was rather uncommon for a creature of Yrix's rank to associate herself with such a station, wherein the underbelly lacked even a window to decorate its vast metal halls. But truth be told, she just wanted to be the first into the fray, regardless of where her position should otherwise lead her.

  "They won't last five minutes," Yrix shrugged, staring down at the armored grunts beneath her, their bulky shields and battle-worn weaponry standing in juxtaposition to her assessment. "It matters not. I only need reach the vaults before the others."

  Yrix began to fiddle with her sidearm, its angular shape having been recently polished and waxed. It was an ironically delicate process, considering how sharp and spindly her four fingers could be. She needed the stout little thing to operate at peak preformance if she were to reach her target in time. Though in truth, she had little faith it would last any longer than the creatures surrounding her, considering the enemy she knew would be clawing at it.

  They went by many names throughout the stars. Some called them the Surfeit, while others simply dubbed their presence as the plague. For the Consortium, names and titles didn't matter nearly as much as strength.

  "Landing sequence permitted, glory be to the emperor. Death to the Infestare," the same voice echoed throughout the stuffy chamber, signaling the first step of the operation.

  Yrix was a Psion, and a particularly large one at that. Her race of tetrapods was widely known as the best to practice the art, so much so that the concept of Psionic influence originated from their name. It was for this reason that they had been members of the Consortium far longer than most. Not that Yrix cared. Her singular eye, located in the center of her skull beneath inches of thick armor, twitched with morbid anticipation for the battle ahead. There was something she wanted down on that planet, and nothing would stop her from getting it.

  Looking downwards, Yrix relaxed her muscles before the floor beneath her gave way. It was a rather graceless deployment method, as the vessel's underbelly opened its maw to unleash its contents all at once. For the average grunt, a machine stationed at an interval would encase them in a large metal tube, shielding them from the fiery landing. But for Yrix, who had no place in the battle group in the first place, there would be no such insurance. She would dive headfirst into the atmosphere all on her own.

  "Yrix, the fifth fleet deployed early; you must make haste," a feminine voice informed the Psion from within her mind, causing her to become agitated.

  "Petulant children," Yrix complained.

  As Arch-Flayer, her station gave her access to only the most ornate of power armor, tightly fit around her flesh so that she would never have to remove it. She was the only Psion of her rank to don a striking yellow, allowing her to stick out as the golden harbinger of the battlefield. Yrix liked that kind of attention. She wanted badly for the enemy to focus their efforts on her first, believing in all their ignorance that she could be killed. To that extent, she even went as far as to don a red cape of sorts, split into two segments down her narrow back. Even her helmet was stylized around her sigil, bearing the mark of the two-horned flayer from her people's legend.

  "And they wonder why the Infestare are winning."

  Yrix tucked her arms in, falling at a greater velocity than the pods surrounding her before abruptly stalling her descent with a Psionic pulse. She had timed her move perfectly, grabbing onto a nearby pod just as a barrage of yellow lightning came crashing into the formation, destroying at least half of the deployment. Yrix was keenly aware of how to strike a balance between speed and restraint, ensuring the rest of her flight would be properly shielded.

  "Less than I had anticipated," Yrix thought to herself, using her Psionic gaze to observe the battlefield from the perspective of the fifth fleet's deployment, which she had recently learned was a bit hasty. "How rare for the Infestare."

  The Flayer bent her knees as the surface of the planet came into view, spinning herself into a ball before slamming onto the rough terrain with a deafening boom. She had, of course, used a Psionic wave to break her fall, causing a lethal explosion that she hadn't bothered to calculate the risks of. If sacrificing an ally meant a swifter excision, then so be it.

  *Her objective was all that mattered.*

  It wasn't long before Yrix began to hear the screeching howls lost in the mist of the battlefield, followed by a series of gunfire and clashing metal. Just as she had predicted, her landing zone was located atop a rather convenient hilltop. As for the unit she rode on to get there, they were less than fortunate. Against the Infestare, all the Consortium grunts could do was make a defensive formation and pray the Arch-Flayer would find them before they were devoured.

  "Good, gives me time to search," Yrix squinted her singular eye as she unfolded a silver disk, its holographic interface showing her a map of the surrounding area.

  Yrix stood still for quite some time, seemingly oblivious to the danger around her as she relaxed her posture. Even as the dying battle cries of her allies rang out from across the hills, Yrix focused on finding her quarry. It didn't matter what came barreling out of the shadows of the ruined Castorum. She had better things to do.

  "There," Yrix hissed as a strange symbol appeared on her device, its shape depicting a wilted flower with sharp symmetrical lines. "I found you."

  Yrix shut her device, staring with contempt at the swarm that had formed around her. The Infestare stared at her silently, their frail skeletal bodies twitching and writhing with anticipation as their porous shells leaked an indescribable fluid. For all intents and purposes, the great enemy of the Consortium was a rabble of evolved crustaceans, relying on the sheer might of their biological forms to fight against the empire. But with the aid of a yet undiscovered power, their monotonous blight had become a scourge for all.

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  "Die," Yrix spoke into the minds of her enemy with a chilling tone.

  The Infestare scuttled towards the Psion, with many of them excreting blasts of acidic projectiles as they approached. But the Arch-Flayer was prepared, halting the assailants with a Psionic barrier before collapsing it onto the horde with lethal force.

  *That felt good.*

  It was as if she birthed a transparent coffin right in front of them and slammed it in their face. Such destruction, followed by a splurge of guts and blood, brought her a pleasure she had begun to long for. Yrix did love a good slaughter. But she wanted more.

  "Away with these lowly insects," Yyrix rolled her eye, swiveling around on her heels before destroying another score of enemies with her sidearm. "Where are your warriors?"

  As if on cue, a large fragment of living tissue flew over Yrix's head, its surface covered with amplifying energy. Such was the way of the Infestare, sending the sheep before the lion. But the Flayer was still unfazed, ducking and weaving over each larger attack with great agility. Soon enough, the greater enemy revealed itself as another horde of monsters, their size and ferocity far greater than the last.

  There was a reason Yrix kept her gun in top shape. It was designed to convert tiny particles of combustible material into slag, essentially allowing her to hurl heated rocks out of a barrel for hours at a time. And considering the tenacity of the enemy she faced, it would be foolish to bring an exhausted pile of scrap.

  *She also just loved guns.*

  Much to the Consortium's dismay, there was no way to make the Infestare fear defeat, a lesson Yrix had already learned as she began to move closer to her prey. The deeper she plunged into the Infestare's territory, the more swarms she would encounter, each one stronger than the last. But Yrix would fight on, sliding down a ravine with near-limitless energy as she battled the horde with her Psionic energy.

  Whenever the Infestare faced defeat, it was typical of them to bring out stronger casts. What was once a stream of crawling little tetropods had become a rabble of armored soldiers, their chitin thick enough to resist most projectiles. For that reason alone, it was worth being a high-ranking member of the Consoritum. Yrix had all the time and money in the world to make her own sidearm into an armor-piercing monstrosity.

  She also had the right to demand for an entire company to come dig her a hole.

  "The drills, on my position, now," Yrix ordered.

  "Yes, Arch-Flayer," a fellow Psion responded, receiving the battle commands via telepathic connection.

  Three balls of fire came hurling through the air above Yrix, crashing down onto the ravine with tremendous might. Each drop pod, more massive than the last, hatched to reveal large machinery that had been stored aboard the fleet. The large drills readied themselves before rotating at blinding speed, cutting away the dirt and rock of the planet's surface as Yrix climbed down after them. Behind the Arch-Flayer came a host of Consortium grunts, with most of the lumbering beasts being accompanied by the occasional Psion with a much smaller stature compared to Yrix.

  "You didn't have to come this way," a young Psion spoke to Yrix, its green armor projecting a floodlight into the newly made tunnel. "You have the Emperor's blessing, Yrix."

  "This was faster, deacon Vyna," the Arch-Flayer shrugged. "It is unwise to give the Infestare time to adapt."

  "Because our tactics are so flexible," the Psion joked.

  Yrix did not respond, focusing on her mission as she began pushing the drills forward with her mind. Eventually, the great machines came to a fiery end, their metal hulls unable to withstand the Psion's effort. But all was well for Yrix, who had already torn away the last of the dirt to reveal a deep chasm filled with yellow luminescence.

  "Secure this area, the target is mine." Yrix snapped at the company, her voice practically tearing into their minds. "And don't...touch...anything."

  Before Yrix lay a series of strange monuments, with each neatly decorated structure representing one of the Infestare's foreign beliefs. While it was common for the monsters to desecrate their own bodies and the corpses of their enemies, it seemed they still possessed some form of art within their homes. Yrix would, of course, never admit it, but she found their catacombs to be ornately designed. It was almost contradictory for such a feral species to dedicate their time to making such things as staircases leading up to their structures. But Yrix had no time for insights and cultural mysteries, pushing her way through the stronghold all the while seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was empty.

  "There you are." Yrix smiled, albeit without any visible mouth.

  The Arch-Flayer reached her hand out towards the center of the room, uncovering a heavily decorated cocoon of sorts from within a mossy grove. She could practically feel the Psionic energy pulsating through the artifact, filling her with excitement. Such passion began to blind her judgment, causing her to feel an irrational obsession with the contents of the cocoon.

  "Finally," Yrix told herself as she gently pried the object open. "My...student."

  Within the capsule lay a small girl, whose exact biology seemed eerily similar to that of the primitive human race. Yrix didn't care. All she wanted in that moment was to protect the girl, who lay naked and unconscious within the cocoon.

  The Flayer had no concept of physical attractiveness, but even she could tell the dainty humanoid was of a prettier sort. Her dark sapphire colored hair came down to her waist, glimmering with a foreign energy. And her eyes, even while shut, emanated a vibrant energy that Yrix could practically feel with on fingertips. She hadn't the slightest idea where the girl came from, nor did she know who was responsible for the elegant markings on her body. But what Yrix did know, more than anything, was the girl's name, which had been practically carved into her Psionic signature.

  "Lunae." Yrix smiled.

  "These symbols," one of Yrix's Psions proclaimed with great concern in their voice. "It's Infestar! This is no relic of the emperor!"

  Suddenly, the head of the Psion exploded into a mist of blood as Yrix clenched her fist. Her entire company was taken aback, pointing their weapons with a measure of reluctance. But Yrix had no intention of explaining her actions. She was going to take that girl home, if it was the last thing she ever did.

  "Traitor!" Vyna screamed, her voice rallying the entire company. "You would betray your emperor!?"

  "I only mean to carry the wild ambition he's so proudly adorned upon himself." Yrix hissed, sealing the pod in order to protect the girl. "Do it...call for reinforcements."

  Vnya's eye widened, realizing her Psionic connection had been cut off from the fleet.

  "Don't worry," the Arch-Flayer boasted as she gracefully descended a set of stairs, as the company readied itself for battle. "I'm sure the Infestare will enjoy your screams."

  *Not as much as Yrix would.*

  Yrix then unholstered her sidearm with blinding speed, pulling its trigger and sending a bolt of molten metal into Vyna's head. Using her Psionic projections, she then directed a formation of purple beams into the hearts of a dozen warriors, their bodies exploding with violent energy. Nearly a hundred of the Consortium responded by firing relentlessly at the Arch-Flayer, their hands trembling with fear.

  "Kill her!" Another Psion pointed with its slim finger, commanding a series of larger brutes to fire their shoulder-mounted explosives.

  Yrix nearly chuckled, lunging into the air before landing on the Psion, her sharp heels crushing its skull. She then used her immense height to kick another Consurtium warrior with crushing force, causing it to nearly explode into meaty fragments. Whether it be against the Infestare or her own comrades in arms, combat was everything Yrix lived for. And for that reason alone, she yearned for the girl within that pod, whose potential could give her what she desired.

  Changing the magazine on her sidearm, Yrix released a howling scream from her mind, shattering the fragile minds of those who remained in opposition to her. She then playfully began to execute the crippled husks, sluggishly aiming her weapon at their heads before pulling the trigger. When all was said and done, she had executed the entire company.

  "Now now," the Arch-Flayer spoke softly, extracting the girl from the pod as she stepped over her dead comrades. "You'll be safe."

  It was rather easy to make up an excuse once Yrix left the chamber. Given her company's chances against the Infestare and the Emperor's taste for alien females, there was already a perfect lie around her betrayal. All that mattered to Yrix, even more than her honor, was her blooming project.

  "I have just the home for you." Yrix smiled at the girl, levitating her way out of the cave as she spoke. "A place, with many like you. I pray you'll live up to my expectations."