Esone retired to his room, shedding his ragged jumpsuit haphazardly along the way. By the time he reached Engineering he was completely naked, much to the chagrin of the staff. His door slammed shut with a resounding clang, followed by a frustrated roar that thrummed through the vessel.<br/><br/>"We lost. They didn't even win through skill! They just overwhelmed us. The power of the Sun and the Moon, and the Stars, and the Dragons, and it availed us<span style="font-style: italic">nothing</span>. Even the Titans were useless." The Infernal slumped to his knees, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. A careful voice started at the back of his mind, his Coadjutor compelled to temper the rage boiling within. And perhaps... to calm the fear?<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000">The Titans shoved enough charms down our throat to build a new Yozi. But they forgot that having the powers isn't the same as having the skill to use it. Solars always have to have a minimum capability in an ability to learn a charm. They learn how to manipulate Essence within the boundaries of that purview. Infernals are given the power and expected to grow into it. Without the skill, we just have unusual capabilities.</span><br/><br/>"So<span style="font-style: italic">what?</span>In case you hadn't noticed, a planet is burning!" The wall dimpled, Esone's fist bleeding ever so slightly from the impact. His eyes were open, staring blindly at something only he could see. Anyone who looked into his eyes at that moment might have seen the reflection of a lion carved of jade, paws crossed and staring sternly back.<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000">Why are you taking this so badly? The Earth is an Icon to you. You never lived there, you were a spacer. And you were taught by the masters that Icons are worthless, meant only to be torn down.</span><br/><br/>"That was<span style="font-style: italic">your</span>directive, Teodozja. Not. Mine. Do not forget where your and my memories end and<span style="text-decoration: underline">Ours</span>begin. And it's not the fall of an icon that bothers me. It's the deaths." Esone had clambered to his feet, pointing his finger menacingly at midair. He looked quite mad, talking to nothing in his birthday suit.<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000">The Pyrian in you burned away your mortal understanding of the Virtues. Don't deny it, I can physically <span style="font-style: italic">see</span> the charm. You shouldn't care at all about the death of a single planet, much less an idol. Not when it is in the interest of the greater good for it to fall and buy us time.</span><br/><br/>"That's the POINT! What does the death of Earth mean? Another billion-billion soldiers at Oblivion's call? A massive blow to the moral of the mortals? Each planet that falls is another empire of the dead to stand against us, another crack in the tapestry of Creation. The time bought isn't worth the price. I am no Slayer. I do not revel in carnage, I do not live for the battle. I am a SCOURGE! It is my purpose to bring silence to the world, not the screams of battle and the moaning of the Labrynth!"<br/><br/>Sabaton sighed, curling up in some hidden inner world.<br/><span style="color: #000000">Well, you're hardly being silent now. Blow off some steam, get running. You'll be receiving a cast-from-heaven-epipheny within the hour, no doubt. And it can't hurt to keep the power reserves charged.</span><br/><br/>"Bah."<br/><br/>In the corner Rare Earth was perfectly still, and Vertigo had been quiet ever since Crimson King Shintai had shunted the poor Intelligence into Beyond. Esone strode over to the suit, rapping his knuckles on the gunmetal helmet.<br/><br/>"Vertigo. You in there, little spark?"<br/><br/>Vertigo's holographic orb blinked into existence, peeking out from the back of Rare Earth's 'head'.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">-What... What are you? Where did you send me?-</span><br/><br/>"You got sent to Beyond. It's where everything that is not exists. It isn't Elsewhere, Wyld, Underworld, Creation, or anything else you would recognize. It's the realm of Oramus. As to what I am..." Esone shrugged "I'm a Basalt Wolf, a Hushbringer. A kindly lunatic, a face dancer. All you really need to know is that I'm on Creation's side."<br/><br/>Vertigo bobbed warily, shifting outward slightly.<br/><span style="color: #0080FF">-Never send me to Beyond again.-</span><br/><br/>"Deal." Esone chuckled grimly.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Entering the serenity of Citadel space was jarring. No war, no death. Just a subliminal sense of complacence that seemed to permeate the Citadel's radius. The Althing theorized that the Reapers had included a subtle sense of peace in the massive Mass Relay, to make conquest easier when the Endwar came. Esone had always loathed it as an intrusion of his control, but now it was a welcome reprieve.<br/><br/>Bau stood in the CiC, staring down at the Galaxy Map hologram. The bustle of shell-shocked crewmen had no effect on his musings, the occasional muttered word merging with the steady drumming of his finger. Esone stalked up to the Salarian under the silent aegis of his Anima power, but the Sidereal still managed to acknowledge him before he spoke.<br/><br/>"Lieutenant. You were hardly yourself when we got back to the ship. Haven't even come out since even have you? Feeling better? "<br/><br/>"Mildly." Esone grunted, slipping into the space beside him. "What are you looking for?"<br/><br/>Bau gestured wide, encompassing the whole of the map. "I'm not looking for anything. Well, a pattern would be nice, but that's not it. Reports are filtering in at an annoyingly slow pace - Palavan is under attack, as is R'lyeh. The Asari have pings in their space, but nothing solid yet. I'm just watching the universe burn."<br/><br/>"Cheery."<br/><br/>Bau chuckled, then winced and rubbed his bandaged head wound. "I got enough of a laugh from your little nudist escapade. The com chatter coming up from engineering was<span style="font-style: italic">hilarious</span>."<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">Fantastic</span>."<br/><br/>"Oh, you don't need to worry about your masculinity being mocked. Nothing about that, just a lot of speculation on how long it'll take to declare you section 8. A few bets even got placed!."<br/><br/>Several of the crew within earshot looked away, pointedly trying to look small and inconspicuous. Esone glanced at them, a slight smile spreading across his gaunt face.<br/><br/>"One year."<br/><br/>Bau turned to regard the Infernal quizzically. "You're awfully monosyllabic today."<br/><br/>"I just saw my world burn." Realization dawned on Bau's face, but Esone quickly waved away the apology that brewed on the Salarian's lips. "The problem isn't what you think it is. It's just personal. How's Sur'Kesh?"<br/><br/>"Possible Cerberus recon scouts, but no Reapers yet."<br/><br/>Another grunt. "Good. That means Dalatrass Linron has one less reason to deny us aid. Do you think the Council will give us what we need?"<br/><br/>This time it was Bau's turn to shrug. "They'll be frightened. I can't predict anything at this point - too many Exalts and Creatures of Darkness working in conjunction to make accurate Astrology weaves."<br/><br/>Esone leaned on the railing, shaving a heavy sigh. "You Viziers were meant to keep causality running smoothly, but were made during a war that exists to snarl your work. Sidereals really did get screwed when they were handing out Exaltations, didn't they?"<br/><br/>"You have no idea."