<strong>Name:</strong>Cato Bones<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Interrogator<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Progen Fifteen<br/><strong>Case File:</strong>One<br/><strong>Investigators:</strong>Rhia Euphrati, Regis,<em>Cato Bones</em>, Elias Scragg, Veyda<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Cato was more than happy with the group he had been assigned to. The guardsman, Callidon or whatever he had stated, had him unnerved in a way he couldn't explain. His mere presence had been an affront, but he knew not why. There was a feeling of dread, depression, even... impotency on his own part. As if his mind wasn't sufficient to fully perceive the man. Perhaps he would have to investigate the matter further. A letter to the Scholastica Psykana perhaps? But not now, it was time to work.<br/><br/>The factory was still bustling with life and movement, wretched creatures milling about carrying corpses and other disgusting globs of flesh and bone. He watched the mutants, feeling a sting of sympathy, but quickly waved the fleeting emotion away. Affronts to the human form, man's sins made flesh. Was that not what the Ecclesiarchy called them? Yet they said nothing about the red robes that walked the catwalks above. Better not to invite such thoughts to your mind, lest it became a seat of corruption. As he received his orders from Elias he thought what a pity. Here he was playing hand-me-wrench with a cog-boy when he could be interrogating witnesses. Even so he just gave a visible nod and followed the handler over to the remaining dogs. He squatted over it and withdrew his Tarot from within his robes, he gnarled fingers caressing it carefully as he repeated a mantra to focus his mind on the task. If there was some sort of psychic or, Emperor protect, warp based cuts they should have left a trace. He pulled out three cards from the deck and laid them face down. He then shoved his hand inside one of the wounds, feeling the lukewarm guts between his fingers as he flipped the cards.<br/><br/>"Authority beneath a Red Eye, flanked by Mystery... the Empyrean flows are too weak at this location, or rather something is disrupting its flow. Perhaps one of the mutants is a latent wyrdling... or perhaps I'm just a little rusty."<br/><br/>There was a glint of a grin beneath the cowl as he withdrew his hand from the dead animal and wiped the gore off his hands. He gathered up the cards again. Strange though, he could have sworn there was an ominous feeling as he withdrew the cards, yet there was nothing to be seen in them. He heaved himself up with the help of his staff and sighed heavily. Perhaps there was a detail he had yet to realize in all of this.