"The longer you wait, the lower your chances of success. Ah, here we go," Bastion said.
This wasn't a bluff—it was a mere observation. The assassin seemed to have made a similar one, as Bastion soon saw a volley of what he could only describe as needles flying toward him.
They streaked through the air at such speeds that they appeared as silver blurs. Yet, to Bastion, they were painstakingly slow. He considered dodging, but biomechanically, that would be inefficient, leaving him open to attack.
"Those would have been more effective when I was asleep," Bastion remarked, waving his hand.
When he opened it again, several clanging sounds echoed as the needles fell from his palm to the ground. Just as he'd expected, the assassin had used the needles as a distraction to close the distance between them.
Sigh.
"Of course," Bastion muttered, disappointed, as he watched the assassin futilely charge at him.
Reaching out as though catching a twelve-year-old, Bastion seized the assassin by the neck and slammed it mercilessly into the wall. The impact was strong enough to crack the rockcrete structure, leaving a large crater where the assassin's body struck.
Bastion noticed the assassin's mask fracturing. With his free hand, he grabbed and shattered it completely, revealing a heavily augmented, unfamiliar face.
A servitor.
He would've assumed it was from the Mechanicus, but the ring on his finger granted him constant surveillance of their activities.
The fact that it was a servitor meant that, even with his touch, all he could extract was endless pain and an overwhelming desire for freedom—its directive remained beyond his reach.
This cybernetically enhanced creature eluded him, despite his control over the Noosphere.
"They really put a lot of thought into you," Bastion mused, squeezing slightly harder.
Blood and brain fluid splattered everywhere as he swiftly stepped out of the splash radius.
"Your Grace!" a voice shouted. Bastion turned to see the Battle Sisters rushing into the training room.
The Canoness led them, her grip on her chainsword matched only by her expression of pure hatred. Behind her, the Sisters stood with bolters drawn.
"You guys never listen, huh?" Bastion chuckled.
"Your Grace, forgive our disobedience," Lucilla said, kneeling swiftly. "But it remains our duty to guard you, regardless of your preference."
"You may rise. You've proven loyalty enough for me to discard you. However, as my honor guard, remember—you are no longer part of the Adeptus Sororitas. Do I make myself clear?"
"We understand, Your Grace," the Sisters answered in unison.
"For now, take your positions. I will oversee your training from now on. We'll meet here again tomorrow," Bastion said, wiping blood from his hands.
Strangely, despite having just killed someone, he felt nothing—and he didn't see that as a flaw. It wasn't that the life he'd taken was insignificant, but rather that he couldn't dwell on it.
It was tragic how this universe normalized slavery under the guise of penance—a penance with no return. From what he'd learned through the Mechanicus, servitors were irreversible… or so they believed.
That meant they deliberately subjected minor criminals to irreversible surgeries. In a twisted way, he'd freed a soul from eternal torment.
"Yes, Your Grace," Lucilla acknowledged with a proper salute.
Bastion nodded and turned to leave, but before he could step away, he spotted Elara standing by the doorway. Seeing her, an unseen weight lifted from his shoulders.
"I'm glad you're okay," he said, brushing dust off her shoulder before passing her to exit.
"It's probably the Inquisition. Those bastards would do anything for any reason," Bastion concluded, laughing it off.
There were two parties that could never—*should* never—oppose each other: him and the Inquisition. Such a conflict would spark revolts and rebellions across the population.
A living Saint against the Inquisition.
The assassin had been right—Selene was here to see him, but only for a routine report. Soon enough, Bastion was back in his room.
Picking up his data-slate, he began refining his system. He intended to restructure the planet's government entirely, but first, he needed an efficient replacement for the existing system.
He had many prototypes, but few were scalable enough to fit the sheer size of his population.