The report of a shotgun marked the end of the conflict.<br/><br/>Esone landed with a grunt, the Beast receding to some dank corner of his mind as the brass exoskeleton crumbled and fell away. Mag-boots engaged, anchoring the lieutenant to the ichor-stained floor. His gaze never strayed from the hideous creature crucified in some twisted parody, a hungry wind howling in his souls at the sight of a foe slain by a hand other than his own. At least the howling was accompanied by a slight influx of motes, a testament to the twisted nature of his Yozi patrons that Murder was Meat. The Infernal's anima banner was a bonfire, so at least the motes were a welcome repast for his deprived essence pools.<br/><br/>Poking the slumped cadaver warily with a stick -alright, the butt of a rifle- Esone glanced back at Del Pilar.<br/><br/>"Well... That was fun. What now? Explosions? Madness? Big pulse of EM- YAAAAGH!"<br/><br/>The Lieutenant jumped back with a legitimate terror as Harbinger's corpse gave an abrupt spasm, tearing itself from the wall. As it fell its form began to unravel, dissolving into tarry smoke.<br/><br/>THIS.<span style="font-style: italic">ISN'T</span>. OVER.<br/>Harbinger's voice snarled from within the smog, the black stain on reality flitting through the hangar bay into the vacuum of space.<br/><br/>"WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?" Esone screamed into the void, futilely shaking his fist at the heavens. "YOU DARN REAPERS GET OFF MY LAWN!"