Antarus lazily intercepted each of the Nantill’s strikes as it slashed with the spined side of its paddle-like weapon. The duel had long ago strayed from being genuine practice to indulgence, but he had needed something productive to do while he waited for the Edificant to grace him with his presence. And now, watching the Nantill’s labored breaths and sluggish movements, the sparring had become mere tedium.

Like all of Nantill armaments, its weapon was grown out of the shells of the gargantuan mollusks that they kept as livestock and fused to the muscles of the Nantill’s arm. In effect, it was its arm. He hadn’t bothered to remember the names of their pets, as there were several that all looked alike, and the Nantill were not his assets to command. No, they belonged to the Sect of Foundations. Antarus may have been the one to humble the oversized snails, but it was Hadriel who had enlightened them.

Perhaps that is why this one did not hesitate to accept my request. It wishes to show me how much its skills have grown since I last met their kind.

The Nantill’s gills were flushed with pink, too long without water. It brought its weapon high and rushed at his flank. Antarus sidestepped it and shoved the thing over with the heel of his boot.

A small gathering of Idex, Nantill, and other Preserved watched in silence at the farce while the rest of the mustering fields bustled with their normal activity. The half-built command spire loomed above them like an unwilling spectator. The far end of the fields shimmered from the heat, and although Antarus couldn’t feel it within his armor, he pitied the Nantill, whose shell had not been grown for such an environment. The mustering fields were kilometers in length, a shear plane of glass molded out of the sands of the desert that had once been known to the humans as ‘the Sahara’.

The center of the desert was an ideal spot for Hadriel to make his stronghold. Leagues of open sand surrounded it on all sides making long-term ground assaults a nightmarish thought, and with its proximity to the planet’s equator, ships had a far easier time escaping the planet’s gravity. And all Hadriel had had to do was bathe a small bit of desert in plasma fire. Economical in everything, as the Edificant always was.

 Every second of every day, planned by design.

From his peripheral vision, as he batted aside another strike from the Nantill, Antarus saw an elevator make its way down the exposed skeleton of the command spire. Several had come before, but perhaps this would be the one to finally break the tedium.

If only his economic mind extended to my time as well as his.

Most of the crowd dispersed as the newcomer approached or stood at attention. It was him. Antarus made a point not to turn towards the Edificant’s approach. It was his turn to practice patience. He made a probing thrust at the Nantill’s left leg and measured the creature’s response time.

Pathetically slow.

He made the low-risk chance of glancing at Hadriel. The Edificant’s square jaw was locked in place, teeth pressed together behind thin, impassive lips. Like Antarus, his counterpart towered above the thralls around them, but despite this, he was still a head shorter than Antarus and twice as wide. The immovable object to Anatarus’s unstoppable force. Even still, his eyes did not leave Anatrus’s. He would not interrupt Antarus’s duel, a show of bad faith, but rest assured, he would make his irritation known.

Not quite so immovable.

He probed again, this time above the creature’s shoulder, and the creature responded with the same, predictable block as it had before.

It was time to make an end of it. He stabbed at the Nantill a third time, nominally faster this time and lower. His blade caught within the weapon’s spines, just as the weapon was designed for. But unlike the weapon’s usual opponents, Antarus was a Purificant.

The maneuver reminded Antarus of the automaton’s self-induced amputation as he twisted his staff, and perhaps the remembered frustration was why he applied additional force. At any rate, the slug squealed as its arm was plucked from its socket.

A weapon should be an extension of the body, not a part of it.

“You fought well, Nantill," Antarus said, retrieving the creature’s arm. “Rest well, and may the Fallen heal you to even greater strength.”

“I appreciate your patience, Purificant," Hadriel said as gestured two of his attendants to attend teh Nantill. “I am eager to hear of your findings of your recent expedition. Let us go where we may speak as equals.”

Antarus smiled thinly, his muscles unfamiliar with such a movement.

 ***          

“I wonder, Antarus, how childish your progenitors must have been for you to be an improvement upon them.," Hadriel said as the doors to the command center hissed shut behind the last of the Edificant’s fleeing attendants. Tiers of computers and control stations spanned around them.

Equals indeed.

“I was merely optimizing the vacant time,” Antarus said, seating himself at the holo-table. “Or would it have been better for me to sit in idleness?”

“I had tasks to attend to.," said Hadriel, still standing and clutching the table’s edge.

Antarus scoffed. “As ever.”

It mattered little how far in advance Antarus scheduled his coming. Hadriel always kept him waiting.

“I suppose the error is mine for forgetting that you are not bred for patience," Hadriel said. “But nevertheless, whatever issue you have with my conduct does not give you the excuse to damage my warriors.”

Antarus waved his hand. “It was within the confines of sparring. The Nantill accepted the duel and all of the risks that it entailed.”

Hadriels’s nostrils flared. “The Nantill are not yours to command or damage. They belong to the Sect of Foundations.”

“I didn’t command him to duel me, I challenged him.," Antarus said. “I gave him an opportunity to prove his species improvement since their enlightenment, and he did, however slight it might have been.”

Antarus stifled a grin, his frustration already released. He might still duel Hadriel for ceremony, if nothing more, but it would’ve hardly been an effective outlet. It was a supreme heresy for beings of their status to truly fight, at least in a physical sense. Like Antarus, Hadriel was a tool of the Traelich. And an effective one at that, one that he would not dare to damage.

Muscles flexed within Hadriel’s temples. “Why are you here?”.

“To discuss the next steps of the Traelich’s Dominion.," Antarus said in false confusion.

“The matter has already been decided. The southern hives must be cleansed.”

“And I come bearing the tools to do just that, a contingent of fleets of my own selection, to cull the hives numbers.”

Hadriel’s posture loosened. “That would explain your escort.”

With a nod of permission from Hadriel, Antarus activated the holotable, a long golden basin filled with spherical projectors. Three dozen ships flashed into existence: long-range lancer ships, defensive bulwarks, and a range of other support craft, both combative and non-combative.

Hadriel’s face remained as stoic as ever, but his eyes betrayed his interest. “An impressive sample. You wish to begin moving against them already?”

Antarus’s shoulders tightened. “It it is what I can spare, at the very least, as a stopgap measure. Among them are half of the newly formed legions that the Traelich has entrusted to me. His most recent, and laborious, work.”

Hadriel almost smiled. “So, the rumors are true, then. He’s finally sculpted the Sarians into something worthy of his approval. Species have been humbled, sculpted, and elevated in the time that he has spent on them.”

Hadriel clicked a button on his side of the table, snuffing the fleet out.

“I am loathe to part with them, but your need is greater," Antarus said with a shrug. “Although I would caution that you test them against the hives before you send them beyond the Crimson Gate. Their bodies may be proven, but their minds are not.”

Hadriel’s face darkened in understanding. On this, Antarus knew that his warning would be heeded.

“With a start like this, the south will be purified faster than I could have predicted," Hadriel said.

Antarus’s eyes twinkled. “You misunderstand. It is, as I said, a stopgap.”

The table groaned under Hadriel’s grip. “Explain.”

“There is a greater threat in the north. One that we cannot afford to ignore.” Antarus pulled forth Idarian’s holo-disk, recounting his discovery of the Promised World and his duel with the automaton. Hadriel’s eyes remained locked on the images, the corners of his mouth turning downward, likely the first spontaneous thing he had done all day. No doubt, his veil of placidity was of less importance than whatever calculation he was beginning to formulate.

“I do not know what is the greater insult," Hadriel said once Antarus concluded. “The fact that you are asking me to abandon three years of preparation or the fact that you opened your plea by damaging my property.”

“Forget the Nantill," Antarus said through clenched teeth. “These automatons are creations of the Ancients. We cannot allow them to grow in strength.”

“If they are the Interlopers that have evaded you these past years, what indication is there that they will do anything other than harbor half-dead primitives?" Hadriel asked.

“The humans are among the most recently cleansed species, and yet already they have been trained well enough to repair and operate the technology of the Promised World,” Antarus said. “Technology of the Ancients. I know not why they have seemingly only chosen to enlighten humans of all primitives, but with a Promised World at their disposal, we cannot let this continue.”

Hadriel was silent for a moment. “I do not disagree. But you are asking me to undo an Incursion’s worth of labor.”

Antarus leaned forward. “I am asking you to shift the direction of your labors, not undo them. It is the opportune time to eradicate this threat before it becomes one. And to allow them to desecrate a Promised World is tantamount to heresy.”

Hadriel sighed. “Easy words for one whom the task doesn’t fall to. The threat of these Penitent is still conjecture. I know the strength of the hives and of the enemy beyond the Gate. Our wars against them have provided ample evidence of their threat. Your bruised ego does not.”

Antarus stood. “Spare me your jabs. Beings such as you and I exist for the sole purpose of war. Anything that can match us is proof enough, or at least proof enough for the Traelich.”

Hadriel stiffened. “He has given you his blessing in this?”

He remembered his master’s command, “...But you will meet with Hadriel before it is undertaken, to ascertain the best course for the hives as well any logistical concerns that he may have.”

“I pursue this enemy under his express command," Antarus said. “But I am not so blind as to undertake this without your support.”

Hadriel looked away for several heartbeats. “As much as I am sworn to obey the Traelich, I am also sworn to serve him. To serve the Idex. And I cannot do that by ignoring my judgment.”

Antarus stepped closer, craning his neck to look down at the Edificant. “You serve no one by doing nothing.”        

The Edificant matched his gaze, his lip curled. “Taking action on an issue I have only just learned about would serve neither of us. If the Traelich sees a threat, then I do not doubt him. But I cannot risk an action that would weaken our defenses beyond the Gate. This step must be taken carefully, lest we drain our resources.”

Antarus backed away. As much as his patience might be tested, he could not help but empathize with the Edificant’s concerns. “That is exactly why this must be pursued. Not only will we eliminate a potential threat, but also the most bountiful Promised World we have yet found. And it is held by a handful of relics and a mob of primitives who never even left the confines of their star system. You have read the scripture. If they can be believed, even just one would multiply the Ecclesium’s production capacities tenfold. Imagine how much faster we might secure the Mother Galaxy.”

“A gamble is a gamble, no matter the reward.” Hadriel said. “I will support your Incursion, but only when the time is right and not before.”

As good of an agreement as I can hope for.

“Very well.," Antarus said. “I will do what I can to provide more evidence that might hasten your preparation.”

“Reconnaissance?”

“Indeed, among other things. I will keep you apprised.”

Hadriel gave an approving huff before opening the doors to the command center. Antarus made to leave. Nothing more could be gained from further debate.

“Purificant," Hadriel called as Antarus reached the door. “If a greater force was sent to cull the hives, then the risk of your gamble might be reduced.”

Antarus clenched his staff. “How much greater?”

“Double.”

Antarus pressed the bladed end of his staff into the Edificant’s floor tiles.

“If the primitives are as weak as you say, then surely you can spare a few ships," Hadriel said. “Otherwise, I will need more time to prepare.”

Antarus lifted his staff from the newly carved divot in the floor. “Very well. I will dispatch them as soon I am able.”

“May the Fallen guide you.," Hadriel said, turning back to his holotable.

As Antarus emerged back out onto the mustering fields, he was surprised at how clear the azure sky was. With how clogged with ash the sky had become after he had cleansed this world, he would have thought it would take decades to remove it. And yet, he could see scores of ships in orbit, both his and Hadriel’s. They hung in the sky, much as they had above the holo-table, like a school of fish. And like a stalking predator, the Oath of Wrath lurked behind them, well away from the world so as not to disrupt its gravity well.

Who am I to doubt a calculation of Hadriel’s? This will be overkill.

And he would not have it any other way.