"I know, Markus. At least we're not dealing with those insufferable fools anymore, probably given up already. Have you seen the piles of dead we've left behind as warning?" "Aye, and we'll put them down like dogs too if we have to. I'm not going to have this...whatever they call themselves interfering with my plans any longer." As they sat, Bharata shoveled food into his mouth by the handful, as uncultured as ever, Markus only watched him. Without a mouth, he felt no desire for sustenance. At least not in that way, his food came from differing means. Mostly, though, he fed on the latent psychic energy surrounding him. Disgust was apparent in his eyes, which Bharata mistook immediately. "Oh stop it, you don't have to be jealous just because you can't taste how delicious this is. Have some!" His boss tried to hand him a piece of leg, held by the top of the foot and darkened even more than when first caught. His laughter echoed, booming as if some great joke were made. "Oh, that's right! You can't eat. Oh well, more for me!" He shoved it against his face, teeth gnawing into a thigh. What was once a person, probably with a family, was nothing more than a meal for Bharata. "Oh, fuck off then you pussy. Go pander to these infidels and weak, pathetic things. I'm going to finish my meal." Markus slid back from the table, exerting all of his inner peace to keep from ripping his boss to pieces right then and there. He had it coming, honestly. The way the man wantonly destroyed everything he touched. A splinter group of people who opposed the lifestyle, the technology, they offered to the denizens of Africa torched a few cheap choppers, and Bharata's response? He wiped out entire villages, of innocent people. He sat in his fucking office, eating people. The Bharata he knew, that he joined up with all those centuries ago, wouldn't, [i]couldn't[/i], do something so heinous. This world poisoned him with its ways, the way he was able to set himself above others. It poisoned his mind, it poisoned his soul. Markus could feel the stain of it, the disgust seeping through the planet. He could feel the way being challenged altered the minds of those around him, and it produced within him the deepest sorrow. He had to fix this, fix all of it. It was necessary to their survival, either on this world or off of it. Of course, the Vault reported some pretty strange happenings off-world. Stars and creatures that just...ceased to exist. Almost as if plucked from the sky by the hand of god. They'd have to do some more investigating on that, and on the possible repercussions of that beam - past just the tidal waves that destroyed the quarantine wall on their northern border and the Earthquakes shattering much of the Glasslands. Hopefully those settled down soon, many outposts to the north still reported aftershocks and tremors riling up the local wildlife. At least three cave-ins in the diamond mines put production behind by weeks, if not months. And still, those weren't even the things on the forefront of Markus' mind. Markus needed to resolve these attacks against them. Calculated, targeted, they knew where his people were going to be, and when they would be there. They consistently outmaneuvered them. The question was how? How could their operatives know everything his people were going to do, figure out when they were going to do it, and then get word across a continent to the people in the proper time. The only answer would have to be an inside source, a person inside of Xanathan feeding information to those against it. That part was simple, really. A few mind readers from accounting, and the empaths from Human Resources, and they'd have it all figured out in no time. Still, to be safe, Markus began sending word to every outpost to keep everything eyes only. If it didn't need to be relayed, don't relay it. If it does need relayed, send to him first. Messages poured back in affirming, and he turned his mind toward the one he'd send on the hunt personally. Vanguard began some insulting response, but Markus turned his attention away from him and in that moment tuned him out completely. He got all the information to be had from him, and now chose to focus his attention on other matters. The people outside Xanathan City were in an uproar over Bharata's actions, over him wantonly killing thousands of innocent people as what? A fucking warning? The man's insanity was getting out of hand. Markus sighed, shaking his head and pushing himself away from his desk. ------------------------- Two Days Later ------------------------------ Markus was on vacation, at least that was the cover story. He took some time off to gather his thoughts, and for all his bosses knew he wasn't even in Africa anymore. All evidence lead to him being somewhere in America, relaxing on a beach drinking a few beers and enjoying the sunshine. Instead, he was actually on his way to Outpost 674 Delta Lima Oscar. The rough road jarred his body with each pothole, and each passing moment seemed to take longer than the last. Donald, the only soldier in Xanathan Markus trusted, drove carefully but even he couldn't avoid this many ruts. "No problem, bossman. I just wish you'd tell me what we're doing out here, this outpost was abandoned years ago. We've not touched it or used it since, so I don't know what's so important you wanna hang out here." If Markus could smile, he would smile. The secrets in DLO were beyond anything Xanathan had anywhere else. The people who worked the outpost were among the greatest minds, and strongest warriors Markus had at his command. People not even Bharata knew existed, and who he'd have killed if he did. They were going to be his alpha squad in the NYUNDO hunt, and then they were going to help him take back control of the land.