“Sir, it looks like Nassim is manifesting.” The standard bearer reported.

“He must have been drawn in by the spilled blood.”

Then Nassim was there amongst them.

“Heya fellas, what’d I miss?” He asked. Slipping out the ethereal plane, and into the physical one like someone walking out from behind a curtain.

Nassim was atypical for a standard spirit. Most of the spirits of the fallen legionnaires that enlivened the standards, took their military duties very seriously; speaking formally, assuming proper military dress, and they were legion through and through.

But his standard spirit Nassim? Moloch was lucky if he manifested with clothes and spoke in complete sentences. So much time spent in the inner worlds, had only exacerbated the more carefree aspects of his character, and while he was never overtly obstructive to their missions, he was a capricious soul that loved pranks and amusement more than he enjoyed the matters of war.

Nassim was an old spirit, having survived through the centuries and he had seen this cohort's founding with his living eyes.

Passed from standard bearer to standard bearer and serving under hundreds of Centurions through the cycles, he had been ever present - guiding them, defending them, talking with them at the shrine, offering advice or just a patient friendly ear, and for some most importantly - he eased the pain of passing for many of his brothers as they crossed over into death, as the gift of life was cruelly snatched away from them in the many bloody battles that he had borne witness too.

When enlivened spirits like him aged to the degree he was - with such age came a degree of power, autonomy and skill that began to exceed the bounds of what standard spirits were normally capable of. Such a powerful spirit was something not to be trifled with.

What Moloch liked best about him, was that you’d never know it by interacting with him, he was always very humble and approachable - ever ready with praise and encouragement and sparse with criticism. He was just a gentle honest soul that loved his brothers, and for that reason despite his lax manner of speech and dress Moloch could find no fault with him.

Nassim, drifted over to the disintegrated pieces of the hybrids. Stopping over the one whose head had been partially cleaved off with Trench’s garotte wire, he stooped down and put his spectral hands just over its body and inhaled deeply. His form grew brighter and more solidified. Today to Moloch’s relief, he was wearing an open robe, and wispy undergarment that covered his genitals. This was not typical for Nassim. He drifted over the charred remains of the second hybrid. He put his hands over it and then with a frown he put his hands into the phantasmal pockets of his robe.

“The problem with emitters; is they don’t leave much essence when it’s all dried out into dust. You don’t have to keep overcooking my meals fellas, I’m not trying to watch my figure.”

Potter, the standard bearer put down the standard. It stood upright of its own volition. Potter drew his combat blade and made a slight cut into the top of his arm, squeezing some drops of blood into a tiny bowl inscribed with holy symbols that was part of the standard itself.

“Take this offering freely given, spirit of the standard.” He said, reciting the formal lines.

Instantly Nassim materialized at the standard, dipping his faint blue finger into the cup. He swirled it around inside and grew much more bright and solid. He put his arm around Potter’s shoulder.

“You do things by the book, Potter, which I appreciate. Also, thanks to your clean living and tranquil mind, your offerings always go down smooth.”

Potter smiled. “It is my pleasure to benefit you as you benefit us!” He spoke.

“Does the standard have a mute button for its spirit?” Krasus asked, still annoyed. We don’t have the time for Nassim’s foolishness today.”

Nassim didn’t turn around, but it was obvious from his tone that he was addressing Krasus.

“I get it; things seem tense for you. Don’t know why bro; you’re all stressed out over this and that, you gotta take it easy, don’t squander these moments of the present in frustration and worry. I don’t want you to be remorseful when your body grows cold. But you're all bound to see things from my side, sooner or later.” He said laughing with satisfaction at his own joke.

Then he vanished and reappeared atop the standard, riding it by twining his legs around the crest and bar. “You know I always keep my eyes peeled for my brothers. It's the least I can do after Potter's nourishing refreshment and all my brothers’ prayers of provender at the legion’s shrine.” He materialized beside Krasus, putting his arm over his shoulder, and “booping” him on the nose.

“Speaking of which, I like never see you at the shrine Krasus, are you saving up all your l

ove for me, for one big special offering? What did you get me buddy?”

“You know I don’t have some bloody big offering for you!” Krasus said annoyed, trying to shake off the spectral form of Nassim. Next time, Moloch, we're leaving the standard at home.”

“Don’t be like that, K-train, you know I love you dude and I know you love me! Nothing you say or do can convince me otherwise!” Nassim said, materializing back again to his perch on the standard.

“Nassim’s a little informal, but he has his uses.” Moloch said, smiling under his helmet.

“You know I can hear you smiling at me Moloch.”

“Who me? Never.” Moloch said grinning from ear to ear.

The legionnaires made their way up the stairs and fanned out. They entered silently and took up positions behind a low crumbling wall that served as a banister before the floor fell away into the central den. This ran in the circumference of the room, and the legionnaires quietly picked their way through piles of rubbish, and debris as they took up positions to encircle the hybrids assembled below. As a position for ambushes went, they couldn’t have asked for a better tactical advantage.

Behind them, there was a ring of large dirty windows that also ran the span of the chamber. The glass had been covered to block any view from the outside, with cycles of accumulated greasy dust and a dirty yellowing paper that had been hastily plastered up with a cheap adhesive that caused the paper to bubble and curl.

The hybrid den had been busy renovating the habitation hive into one huge grotesque chamber, where they presumably ate, lived, and slept together. There were several large passages that connected to the central den, and they ran off into different directions, like a maze. This den seemed for all the world like it was the warren of a very large and insane burrowing animal.

In the center there was a large circular stage, and above it perched the metal nest of the Den master. On the central stage there were five citizens that had their ankles and wrists bound to broken columns, and metal tubes stuck into their spines attached at the base of their necks and fed into a whirling apparatus. Attached to the apparatus, by way of short coppery pipes were five green glowing incubation globs that pulsated with a very rapid heartbeat. The globs rose and fell with each beat, as the occupants inside writhed around frenetically clawing at the membrane that held them, and occasionally the outline of a hand or the blunted features of a snarling face could be seen before it vanished back to squirm around in the gelatinous fluid that held them suspended within the globule.

The bound citizens hung limply against their restraints; and Moloch could see from his thermal scanner; that they had been dead long enough for their bodies to grow cold. In the center a huge, withered creature that resembled a vulture stood. His neck was long, and his lips had formed into a long sharp bony beak. He bristled with long black greasy feathers, his feet were wide and powerful, with jagged claws on pointed toes. His eyes were bright, black, and bird-like but front facing. Wide spreading wings had sprouted out of his back and his barrel shaped chest was bulked by muscles and organs that were many times their normal size. His arms were covered in nano plated armor and his fingers were tipped with razor sharp metal caps.

“Well, that must be the Den Master. Look at him strutting about like he’s the cock of the walk.” Moloch said.

“Do you think the bugger can really fly?” Krasus asked. He seemed filled with a kind of morbid curiosity as he examined the Den Master.”

“He can definitely fly with those scraggly beauties my dudes.” Nassim said. He materialized beside Krasus and was pretending to peer over the side of the balcony just as Krasus was doing. “The muscle development and increased size of the chest cavity and scapular muscles definitely would suggest it.”

“What do you think they are doing in the center there?” Krasus asked, finally accepting the fact that he would have to just deal with Nassim’s presence whether he liked it or not.

“Well, they are trying to make more of themselves bro. Nassim said. Those poor departed souls bound in the middle there. They had their spinal fluid tapped. Hybrids need it fresh from the source for the first dose.”

“Disgusting.” Krasus said.

“Mh-hmm. Oh! That reminds me! New souls, they are probably terrified right now. Lemme go give them the down-low on their situation!” Nassim replied as he vanished again.

“Be ready to fire on my mark.” Moloch called quietly into his comms. He hoped that the legionnaires were being mindful of the dampening effect from the standard, and they were careful not to take up a position beyond it. For any minute sound might alert this whole pack to their presence.