What limit dared impose itself on a soldier's determination? The question haunted Bastian day and night, for he was a soldier. A super soldier from a future more distant than it was near. He was the ultimate culmination of science and nature, and a man driven by duty. Mankind's future depended on it. Though while he championed the survival, prosperity and self-determination of man, another stepped from the shadows to make sure man's future'd be as torn by war as the timeline Bastian called home. And she stood in the shadows of an empty warehouse, her ivory face catching the dim glow of a flickering computer screen. The white of her grin flashed something sinister, and her eyes drank in every bit of information.
She was a datakinetic, her brain a living market for those in search of rare and invaluable information. And now, she'd stored the space-time coordinates to a dimensional rift. One that led to a non-Einsteinian universe where energies strange and powerful lie ready to be claimed. And she'd sell the coordinates to the Abyssal Imperium, trading safety and security for cosmic riches. She'd doom them all lest the Black Baron intervene.
And intervene he did.
Like a silent wind, he swept in, teleporting behind her with a shotgun thrumming for carnage.
The Vindicator. It fired large metal flechettes, kinetically charged and made of vibranium. It tore her skull apart. Painted the floor in red strokes of blood and gore, and made a butcher's mess of her brain. The irony scent of blood sat heavy in the air, and the silver sheen of his Trion arm glimmered as he neared the computer screen. Stepping over her body as the blood flowed like a stream of liquid rubies, the Black Baron glanced at the computer screen with a wolf's focus.
She'd been tasked with capturing his lover and partner - Ren. But by who? He intended to find out. Bastian seized the computer and left as abruptly as he came.