-Henry Ford

The next few rooms were a blur for John. They repeatedly met up with other segments of the Order in the midst of their own clear missions, assisted them in finishing off the Cabal they had already isolated, and then moved on to the next group while leaving the Knights they had aided to secure the area. There were no breaks, save for Moira's occasional healing magic, and the strain seemed to be wearing on all of them. Sweat glistened down Sophia's body and soaked into her oversized clothing. Seras was apparently immune to sweat - an odd thought he'd never considered about an undead body - but John could tell by the way she occasionally stumbled and threatened to topple over that even her immortal body had its limitations.

Moira didn't let any voluntary signs through, but between her perspiration and the way her face was reddening constantly as they advanced, John assumed that their actions were wearing on her as well. It wasn't exactly a ridiculous assumption; Moira was doing more than her fair share of work. It took John the better part of a half-dozen fights before he got the hang of wielding Moira's oversized hammer; at first, its range was so unwieldy to John that he ended up slamming the handle into multiple Cabal soldiers' heads.

Meanwhile, Moira was almost as lethal with a shield alone as she was with a hammer, and she was so much more focused on defense that John scarcely took a hit. Where Moira's multiple auras and buffs - ranging from short-term like Divine Shield to more passive and long-term effects like Blessing of the Lady - failed, her presence almost never did. No less than three times, John was certain his health was about to drop below half as he exposed himself to a barrage of fire, yet at the last moment Moira would throw herself forward, deflecting or absorbing a barrage of magic.

She always had a curt word or two for John after, of course, but John was happy enough to take them. He felt, for perhaps the first time, like he was learning to fight as part of a unit. Seras and Sophia seemed to agree; not only did Moira protect them, but they both communicated with Moira in earnest for the first time since their creation.

"Three of 'em left, 'iding behind that mountain of shattered desks!" Seras called out, emphasizing her words with a full clip of ammo fired into a makeshift pile of filing cabinets, broken desks, and technological wonders (of the 1980s).

"Two with no weapons, one with a strange stick with rubber mounted on the end."

"Wait, are you telling me they are using a- yep."

John practically groaned as a man leaped from behind the barrier, a gushing bullet wound in his shoulder where Seras' high-caliber rounds had penetrated through, brandishing a plunger with the intent and malice of a true serial killer.

"This is beyond pathetic," John noted as he swung Moira's hammer, ignoring the feeble blow that bounced off his armor as Moira's mallet absolutely obliterated the skull of the Cabal warrior who jumped out in front of him.

"Indeed… that is why I chose the room I did for us to initiate upon," Moira began, lowering her shield almost unnoticeably as she glanced around the room. Even though Order Knights were now sweeping the perimeter, she seemed utterly unsatisfied until her own eyes had personally confirmed her own safety.

"Meaning?"

"It was the largest room, according to the blueprints we were able to obtain, and it was also one of the closest to the loading bay. Barring some kind of Barrier rooms that we had no way of recognizing prior to our invasion, there was no other room that would likely contain more Cabal forces… the Barracks would arguably do so under normal circumstances, but as I predicted, they have been largely emptied in response to the Legion's ****."

"Great, so why haven't we seen anything about those items or what they're planning?"

"It must be further in. Let us continue onward."

And so they did. Fortunately for John, by this point most of the Order had done their work, and the groups they encountered were in the process of rounding up the few prisoners who had survived the combat, securing the bodies of the (thankfully) limited number of Order Knights who had fallen in battle, and examining their surroundings for the most critical of information. The only real exception to this was when they ran into Kim Moon, who was so busy ordering the Golden Rose Knights around that she didn't even acknowledge the presence of their very Warden until Moira clasped her hand around Kim's shoulder.

"You would do well- ah, Ms. Brighton, I was not expecting you," Kim said, only half-apologetically while still glaring around at any Order Knight foolish enough to dally in her presence.

"Well, you may occasionally find that I am present where my loyal followers risk their lives," Moira said, sarcasm great and powerful in its intensity.

"You have fortunate timing… some of your men just finished unsealing a room that had been blocked off and warded. Two doors down that way, and you-"

Kim Moon froze as her eyes flickered over from Moira and locked onto John. They cautiously skimmed over both of his companions but immediately returned to him. There was something in those eyes - not like the scorn and skepticism she'd had during their brief first encounter.

"You have changed, John Newman. I cannot say I disapprove, but… how did you change so rapidly? You did not even resemble this last we met."

"Change? I mean…" John glanced himself over, unsure of what changes he had been through that would cause such a drastic reaction. It was true that over the course of the past few days he'd changed a bit physically - he'd lost some of the small amounts of body fat that had piled up over a lifetime of sitting at a desk, and his muscles had toned a… fairly considerable amount, considering he hadn't touched a weight or really done any heavy lifting that wasn't sparring or fighting for his life, but he still looked like John.

"I guess so? Little fighting for your life does wonders for the body."

"Not that, you-" Kim grunted with disgust, her gaze changing to one more familiar to John. "Your aura is extremely different. You radiate a purpose… and I daresay a noble one."

"My… aura?"

"Auras are simply how your magical presence alters the world around you. The more powerful you are, and the more magically adept, the more you naturally influence the area around you by simply passively siphoning some of the Abyss into this realm and releasing it around you. Kim is relatively adept at sensing Auras. The Wardens of the Brighton lineage can detect evil with some degree of ease, but she has often displayed the ability to sense intent, and even-"

"We need not go into advanced discussion of my abilities, theoretical or otherwise," Kim growled, cutting off Moira. "All that matters is that you seem far more focused, more purposeful, and… I approve, John Newman. Perhaps you are finally realizing the severity of the battles and situations we find ourselves in."

"Whatever you're reading, John remains the same person. How goes the eradication?"

"Nearly complete, from what I've seen… I've been personally attending to those that have resisted your Knights for too long, but this floor is nearly cleared as well. Gather what intel you can - we have received no word from the Legion, but I am sure they will not hold out much longer without contact. And how are you faring, Moira? I can see by your stance that you are not faring so well, have your spells already-"

"Enough of your concern!" Moira scoffed, clasping her arm over John. "Let us be off!"

John eyed Kim warily as he was forcefully pulled away, curious about multiple things. What had changed in his aura? What was wrong with Moira? True, her wounds were growing, but they were almost insignificant compared to what he had seen inflicted on her before. Even her health had only dipped about a hundred points after her latest rounds of healing.

"My Warden, thank goodness you're here."

John's thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Knight Etriyya as she strode around a corner, just her face revealed through her raised visor. With a quick salute and a rapid point, she directed Moira down the room Kim had mentioned.

"What have you found?" Moira questioned immediately, never breaking stride. Together they walked into what appeared to be a storage room, largely empty save for a few crates whose lids the Order had already pried off.

"In here, nothing. But we were able to detect a spell concealing a portion of the room behind an illusory wall. Back there, well… take a look."

"Is the area secure?" Moira questioned, perhaps more harshly than she meant to - her tone sounded downright hostile. Moira's face was flushing red, and her voice came out through gritted teeth. Even Etriyya seemed caught off-guard, but she did her best to compose herself before responding.

"Yes, my Warden. We have secured every other room in this hallway and have begun patrols to await your arrival. Just take a look for yourself…"

John turned to where several Order Knights were gathering around a table, hesitantly glancing between the objects gathered there and each other. As Moira strode up, John gathered his remaining mana and began to Observe the objects there. The first two were simple Order artifacts, one enchanted to detect unnatural essences and the other to dispel "impure thoughts"… whatever that meant.

"All of you… clear the room, now!"

The Order Knights began to file out. Deprived of mana, John was rather uncertain of what the other items on the table did, but Moira was beginning to shake and quiver as they rapidly filed out. The door slammed behind the last Knight, only one questioning glance from Etriyya displaying her curiosity before it was cut off.

"I'm gonna need a couple minutes here," John warned, eyeing the table again. "Not enough mana to inspect everything, I-"

John was interrupted in the most shocking and… pleasurable of ways. Before he could monologue more about his concerns, Moira strode forward and in a single step closed the distance between them. John was thrust up against the wall, both of Moira's hands locked around his collar, pinning him so tightly it bordered on painful. Before John could ask what was happening, before either Sophia or Seras could react and attempt to free John from her grasp, Moira threw herself at the wall after John, mashing their bodies and lips together.

Assaulted both physically and mentally, all John could manage was a half-coherent cross between a mumbled question and a scream as the Warden began to grind herself against him.