//------------------------------//
// 4~Thumps in the Night 
// Story: The Emperor Preserves 
// by Centurion Pike-Wall 
//------------------------------//

Anton laid out the last of his supplies, completely dominating the wall of one of the Valkerie. He looked outside of the wreck on last time, squinting slightly as the setting sun hit struck his eyes. He ducked inside the wreck, moving aside the door-mounted Heavy Bolter and into the interior. 

He examined the interior, cleaned out of the shards of metal and other bits of wreckage. He had scattered them across the cave entrance, so as to alert him if anything entered it. He set the lasgun down on one of the remaining seats, before sitting down next to it. After a bit of getting onto it and shifting around in order to get comfortable, he leaned back on the seat. He stared at the ceiling of the crashed gunship, lolling his head from side to side. Finally, he sat up a bit, and began to take off his armor. 

After discovering the gravity field his mutated form had, he had done a little bit of testing about it. Much as it pained him to admit, but his new Xeno form made up for its downsides to an almost equal degree as his human form. The manipulation slid up to the straps of his Flak Armor, undoing them and letting it fall off. He sighed in minor relief as he did so, as his armor stopped compressing his new fur, letting the small amount of slack in the uniform out and stop compressing the fur. 

He took off the helmet, placing it next to the small pile of armor plates, and turned his attention to his uniform. His manipulation pulled down the zipper of the drop suit jacket, undoing it as he was able to remove the rough uniform. Instantly, the sweat-soaked fur was blasted by a wave of cold air, causing him to shiver slightly. He laid his uniform over one of the seats, using his limb to grab and pull out his undershirt, unsticking it from the damp fur. 

Anton sighed, heading to his pile of gear. He grabbed a sleepbag from the collection, laying it over a small section of floor. He bunched up the drop suit, placing it near the end of it. He grabbed the lasgun off of the seat in his manipulation, setting it next to the bag. Finally, he slid inside it himself. It took a bit of shifting and turning in order to get some semblance of comfort from it, but finally, he was in a position that didn't hurt. 

He pressed his head to his chest, pressing his inhuman limbs to his chest in a mockery of the Aquila. He shut his eyes, murmuring slowly under his breath, "O Immortal Emperor, mercy upon me, miserable unworthy that I am. O Master of the Galaxy, protect Your flock from the... from the alien. O Keeper of the Light, guide our darkened path with Your radience. I am Your warrior and I am a servant to thee. I stand free from blindness of heart, free from hypocrisy, vainglory, and deceits, but captive to hatred, malice, and anger, to the filth, the a-alien, the heretic. By Thy agony and bloody sweat; by Thy Golden Throne and Thy Death. By Thy destruction and re-emergence as the god of Men. Keep and strengthen me, I who fight for thee." Finally, exhaustion and despair caught up to him, and his eyes didn't open as he drifted into sleep. 


+++++~+++++


Anton awoke to the sound of shifting metal. His eyes forced themselves open, still heavy from his earlier actions. However, his training kicked in, and he reached for the lasgun. 

His aura had just begun to shine around the weapon when a head poked inside the bay of the gunship. At least, Anton assumed it was a head. It appeared to be made of various sticks and branches, all stuck together in the vague resemblance of a canine shape. Small tuffts of moss and leaves decorated a few of them, as well as just enough around its head to give it the appearance of eyebrows. Baleful green magics swirled around in its eyes, along with a faint green glow in its throat. 

It looked around in the cabin, no doubt looking for something. Anton slid out of the sleepbag as quietly as he could, using his aura to bring his lasgun to his shoulder. It turned to him, its green eyes narrowing slightly. 

It lunged forward, attempting to rush him. Anton fired a shot, striking the beast in its chest. Though an amount of the sticks were blown off of it, smoking and charred, the beast kept coming at him. He brought up the weapon to block it as it dove in, attempting to bite into his throat. 

However, his weak grip on the weapon failed, and his aura failed. The shifted its head, realizing that it was no longer being forced back. It threw the lasgun to the flooring, before turning back to Anton. It lunged at him, its needle-like teeth gnashing as it tried to overpower the Elysian. Anton used his limbs to try and hold back its jaws, jamming them on either side of its mouth to both try and keep it shut and to force it away from his neck. 

Anton wildly shoved his rear legs up, slamming into the creatures underbelly. His limbs stung from the impact, yet he persisted in this attempt to dislodge the creature. Finally, one of the impacts forced the create off of him, reeling back and shaking its head in disorientation. 

Anton used the opportunity to scramble over to the small pile of weapons on the other side of the cabin. He grabbed another lasgun in one of his limbs, wrapping the handguard in his aura as he brought it up to the beast. He fired several times, a few going wide due to panic. However, enough hit the beast that it deemed he wasn't worth it. It scampered out of the cabin, and Antons eyes stopped following it in exchange for another target: the folded in Heavy Bolter. 

Tossing the lasgun on one of the chairs, he springted around the bank of seats of the weapon. He undid the clamp holding it in place and swung the weapon out, the metal bar locking in place as it gave him a wide firing arc. Including the fleeing beast, which was running up to a pair of creatures similar to it by the mouth of the cave. 

It stopped and made weird noises to the others, giving Anton enough time to bring the Heavy Bolter about. Unlike the triggerguards of the lasguns and laspistol, the Heavy Bolter merely had a pair of plungers, allowing him to better use the weapon without resorting to his aura. 

The weapon roared to life, deep reverberating booms echoing off the cave walls as the Emperors Wrath spilled free from the barrel. Tracers lit up the interior as the first of the bolts slammed into the wooden creature. The impact sent it bowling over, shards of wood spraying across the entrance of the cave. Two of the creatures were torn apart in seconds, their forms blown into pieces. The final one slipped away, running back and forth in an effort to dodge the bolts. It slipped around the outcropping of the rock near the cave entrance and disappeared into the night.