Another cell. Dark stone walls surrounded him as he lay still and stared at nothing. He'd been unconscious for a day and a half after the incident with that psychic woman. At least that's what he thought they'd said. It seemed to rankle them that he didn't understand their complicated garbled Latin and didn't jump to their commands the moment they spoke, but there wasn't much he could do about that.

When he'd first woken up they'd given him what he assumed to be some sort of check-up. Their strange machines spitting out information that was entirely unintelligible to him. They'd shoved him into a shower, which he'd gladly taken, and gave him some kind of simple uniform to wear. The bracelet they'd put on him when he'd been drugged out of his mind was exchanged for a metal collar. Looking at it he assumed it was some kind of tracker or punishment tool. They had an armored woman escort him to what he assumed would be his new holding cell and lock him inside. He was starting to get damned tired of being pushed around without understanding why.

Lifting his hand he glared at it in confusion. Everything around him felt so heavy, like the air was thick. It left him feeling sick to his stomach and disoriented, like he'd caught a really nasty flu. He didn't even know if he should blame all the unknown drugs everyone had been pumping into his system or if he should blame the psychic woman for whatever she'd done to his head. Every sight, every sound, every sensation, all of it had become too much. It was all louder, more intense. As if he'd been looking at the world through thick glass and that glass had suddenly shattered- leaving him with no protection.

Rolling over he curled in on himself with a groan. He used to think his parents were foolish for believing in things like god, the devil, angels, demons, heaven, and hell. The only time he'd questioned that belief was when Droy destroyed a demon right before his eyes. They'd both felt it the moment it appeared. Everything about it felt wrong, gross, and tainted. Corruption spewed from every inch of it and coated the very air around them. It was the first time he'd been unable to defend his little brother.

When it fully manifested he'd been frozen to the spot, shaking with fear. He knew it was watching him specifically, trying to rip into his mind. He could feel it. Then Droy stepped between him and the foul thing.

If anyone asked he would have sworn that his heart stopped for a minute. His adorable little baby faced brother, the boy who wouldn't even defend himself against a bully, was standing between him and an evil being who wanted to swallow him whole. It was the first appearance of The Blade as he'd eventually come to call it. In the beginning it was a crude thing, closer to a pointed stick than a sword. But it shone with a soft golden light that chased away the fear gripping him.

"Leave my brother alone!" The seven year old Droy had yelled at it, as it eyed the blade warily. It chuckled and pulled back but Blaine knew it wasn't going to retreat. Even with the warm glow of the blade keeping it at bay it wasn't going to stop trying to get what it wanted. A cold feeling ran down the back of his spine and he felt a clammy hand grab his arm from behind. By that time Blaine had already been enrolled in a junior military academy and was learning self defense. His reaction was instantaneous. Turning sharply he wrenched his arm away and backed toward his brother, keeping an eye out for whoever, or whatever, had grabbed him.

Whispers at the edge of his mind beckoned him. They promised power, loss of fear, and even his parents lives being returned to him. He shook his head to clear it, grit his teeth, and kept stepping backwards until he was nearly back to back with Droy. "Shut up! You're lying!" He could feel Droy's concern for him without even looking. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and forced himself to focus. "I deny you! I won't bend, I won't break, and I will never stop fighting." Opening his dark orange eyes he glared into the darkness. "I won't let you win." Half of what he was saying was pretty much gibberish, stuff he'd seen in movies when monster hunters and priests fought demons. But he meant it. Nothing they promised him would sway him.

He must have angered it, challenging it like that. The moment he stopped speaking it rushed them, shrieking words that he couldn't understand.

It fell to Droy's sword.

Since that day he'd never had any problems with nightmares or feeling like someone watching him. He just assumed that it had been either a hallucination or, worst case scenario, it had been a mutant hiding out and feeding off of people's fear somehow. Whatever it was- it had never bothered him again.

The more he thought about it the more he realized that it was from that time onward that some people started to instinctively avoid him. A few of them didn't even seem to notice his presence at all, as if he didn't exist. He wondered if the demon had done something or if his brother had somehow been protecting him this entire time.

Clenching his hand into a fist he closed his eyes and let out a frustrated growl. The Inquisitor and his asshole Interrogator had tried to convince him he was in the future. After everything he'd seen he couldn't deny it anymore. He felt guilt in the pit of his stomach. First Droy, then him. The Brigadier must have been so worried… though maybe not their mother.

She'd tried to warn them. At least that's what he thought now. When he'd been weeding the garden with her she'd rambled on about the importance of 'being steadfast in the midst of hardship,' and how he should remember to always be true to himself, even if he was a cold and heartless brute. There had been many comments like that from his mother lately. Disparaging remarks about how he was a murderer, how no man should be judge, jury, and executioner. When she got particularly angry at him, for no reason he could begin to fathom, she'd speak in butchered Latin at him. It sounded a bit like the language everyone used in this fucked up future.

Letting out a sigh he shifted to get more comfortable. "I need to sleep…" He was exhausted. But he was also scared. What fresh hell would they have for him when he woke up? What was it that stalked his nightmares? Too many questions, not enough answers.

Sleep did come eventually, but it was not the restful solace he had been hoping for.

[***]

Dragged out of sleep by the sound of someone yelling something at him he quickly got up and stood at attention, years of a conditioned response making his body move. Disoriented he didn't register the small black haired woman in front of him until he she waved a hand in his face, looking annoyed. A voice echoed in his mind and his eyes went wide as the small woman gave him a sly smile. "So, you are the anomaly." Blaine's eyebrows rose further. It was clear she was talking directly into his mind, which had never happened before. "I can see why Gisella was so confused, you're going to need a lot of work." He scowled, letting his body relax.

"Where am I?" The woman took a moment, as if listening to something. She smiled.

"You are on Holy Terra, the cradle of man." Holy Terra. Back when he was a… guest of the Inquisition, they'd spoken to him about the home of their 'Glorious God-Emperor of Mankind.' It sounded like some fanatical cult, worshiping a god of their own making. Something to keep the masses in line and the more powerful organizations loyal to their empire. But the more he learned about this God-Emperor the more he questioned whether or not he was real.

"But that is not what you truly wish to ask." The black haired woman let out a small sigh and closed her eyes. "Though you are a courageous man you have many fears. I will try to explain as much as I can, as long as you cooperate." Nodding stiffly he eyed the woman carefully. The idea that someone could just enter his mind was like an itch beneath your skin, one you couldn't scratch.

"You are here to learn about the Imperium of Man, our history, culture, and language. Alongside that you will be learning to tap into the powers of the warp and use your psykic abilities to help mankind." When she finished the poor man stood there, gobsmacked.

School? The Inquisitor had put him on a ship where they'd drugged him into oblivion, sorted him like cattle being bought at a day market, and given him what he would have called a prison uniform if only it was orange; all because the man wanted him to go to School!? If he hadn't thought the man was a crazy scary bastard before, he certainly thought so now.

"It is not as simple as that." Flinching he remembered that the woman was in his mind and could probably hear everything he was thinking. "Unsanctioned Psykers are dangerous. They are prime targets for the deamons of the warp." Blaine understood that, he did. He'd been attacked by a demon once before. But why did they want him to go to school? Why not just get rid of him and be done with it, if he was considered so dangerous.

"You were considered too valuable to waste. As a Delta class Pyromancer and Telekine you would be an asset to any number of people." He supposed that made sense. But what the bloody hell was a Telekine? The woman chuckled.

"We should get going. You will learn everything in time, try not to worry lieutenant." Easy for her to say, she wasn't the one with someone in her head listening to her thoughts.

With a confused huff he followed the small woman- "Tenebria, you may call me Tenebria." He flinched again but decided to commit the name to memory.

[***]

Class was the same as any other schooling he'd had before. But instead of a bunch of unruly kids he was sitting with five others who were all over the age of twenty, if he had to guess. That small class was run by another mind reader. Apparently none of them knew the most common language spoken in the Imperium and it was disgraceful. So they would all be forced to learn it. Since Blaine had always been good with languages and had already taken Latin as an elective he already understood more than his classmates, but not by much. The conjugations were all wrong and the spelling of certain words was an oddity. Like Psyker/Psykic instead of Psychic. It was actually really interesting and he fell into the class with as much eagerness one could for a prisoner forced to learn.

After that had been Indoctrination class. Which is what he would continue to call the 'Cultural Integration' class that came after language. From the first class alone he knew that he was going to hate this horrible future. Not that he didn't hate it before. The government was clearly authoritarian, oligarchical, and theocratic in nature. The sheer size and opulence of the palace in the photographs was astounding. Whoever this Emperor was, he sure liked gold.

There was a break for lunch and for that he was very grateful. They were taken to a mess hall and given their meals, which was pretty standard prison fare he supposed. Looking around Blaine realized that everyone was an adult. There were no children. But he remembered seeing children being taken by the same people who took him when he'd first arrived. Worry bloomed in his chest but he squashed it. They probably had the kids in a different section than the adults. Kids were far more adaptable after all. Far easier to manipulate and brainwash.

When their break ended they were split up and taken to large well armored rooms. It reminded him of the shooting range area the Inquisitor had set up for him to demonstrate his pyromancy.

"Hello again." Tenebria smiled up at him and he gave her a polite nod back. He really wasn't a fan of someone just hopping into his head, even if it made communication easier.

"I'm your assigned teacher for psykic study. I'd like to start with an explanation of your abilities, and what you can do with them." She motioned to some cushioned mats on the floor and waited until he was sitting down before she took a seat herself.

"You called me a Pyromancer and a Telekime?" He knew what a pyromancer was, and would readily admit he was one. But he'd never heard of a Telekime before.

"TelekiNe." She corrected primly. "Telekines have the ability to manipulate the material plane with their thoughts. You take warp energy and turn it into a solid force." Blaine frowned as he began to understand. They thought he had Telekinesis.

"I've never so much as moved a leaf with my mind before." A knowing smile crossed her face and it unsettled him.

"Did you ever stop to wonder why other psykers couldn't effect you? Or if, in the heat of battle, objects that should have hit you suddenly missed?" Blaine felt a chill run down his back. A couple of the sergeants in his platoon used to joke that he had a lucky rabbits foot shoved up his arse for the amount of near misses he'd had. He could distinctly remember Sgt. Briggs staring at him, wide-eyed, and asking how he was even alive after being caught out of cover and shot at with automatic weapons. Not one of those bullets had hit him. He'd been caught in the middle of a hail of weapons fire and all of them miraculously missed.

"I… never noticed before. Everyone just assumed I was a pyromancer and left it at that." He shrugged nonchalantly but inside he was reeling. What else did he not know about himself? How did these guys find out about it when even he didn't know?

"Gisella was the one who broke your shield. It was very small, right next to the skin, and highly concentrated. It was containing all of the power that might have spilled out of you when reacting to such things as stress or fear. The shield fed on the energy around you as well, which made you seem like a Blank." That was something he didn't know about either.

Before he could ask she was speaking again. "A blank is someone unaffected by Psykers. They cut off our connection to the warp and sap our energy, making us feel weak." Oh, he'd felt something like that before. The female knights on the ship the Inquisitor left him on. Whenever one of them had touched him he'd felt weak and sick to his stomach.

"Have you ever actively tried to move something with only your mind? Or create a shield to stop something from hurting you?" Blaine shook his head. He'd never thought of it before. Once he'd started being able to throw fire around he'd just assumed that was his only power and practiced the hell out of it. He wasn't the special one, after all; Droy was. He was the one with all the miraculous powers that defied logic.

"Droy? Your… brother?" Blaine bristled, turning fierce orange eyes on the small woman. She stared calmly back at him yet behind her purple eyes he could sense an immense power. After a moment she let out a small sigh. "We are getting off topic. I am here to help you learn how to use your powers to their fullest." As she spoke to him he couldn't help feeling as if there was something more she wanted to say. It was just something in the way she shifted her body weight. Something he couldn't quite catch or understand.

"We'll start with a quick assessment of your powers, then some meditation after that. Are you ready?" Standing he grudgingly nodded.

"As ready as I'll ever be." She smiled at him and gracefully rose from the ground.

"Excellent." He got the feeling she was happy to have a student who was already disciplined. Turning to the room he realized there was no fire for him to draw from.

"Oh, child. You've never needed an outside source for your power. Don't worry, by the time I'm done with you you'll be able to call upon the energies of the warp without a second thought." Why did that not fill him with confidence?

[***]

Concentrating on his palm he let out a long breath and visualized a small flame. They'd been working on this exercise for god knew how long but he just couldn't make it happen. There was something holding him back and he had no idea what it was. Any time he felt like he was getting closer to summoning a flame he felt a sharp shudder of fear and dread roll through him, making him feel sick to his stomach and oddly guilty. Twice now he'd pushed himself until he threw up but he still hadn't been able to produce a flame.

"Do not worry so much about what damage you might cause, or whom you may hurt. Only you and I are in this room and I am well very protected." Blaine let his hand drop back into his lap and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He tried to meditate and calm himself down but the cold sweat running down the back of his neck and the fain tremors in his body just wouldn't stop.

He heard the sound of swishing fabric and knew that Tenebria had stepped closer to him. He opened his eyes and looked up into her face. She looked down at him with mild concern. "What is it you are afraid of?" The question was heavy, like a physical blow. Afraid? He wasn't afraid of anything. At least… nothing to do with his powers. Giving her a confused look he wondered if she could see something about himself that he couldn't. She was the one in his head, after all.

Sitting in front of him on her knees she reached over and placed her fingers on his temples. "Just relax your body, take deep breaths." Slowly letting himself settle down he tried not to think about the presence in his mind as it slid between memories and thoughts like oil. It felt gross and at times painful but he'd learned pretty quickly that if he fought it he would be the one getting hurt. So he let her in.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when suddenly all of his instincts were screaming at him. Gasping he pushed Tenebria away, his heart pounding and all the hairs on his body raised. There was something there, something terrifying. Tears came to his eyes and it felt like he was going to suffocate.

Across the room, having been rebuffed mentally as well as physically, Tenebria stood and eyed him warily. It was the first time she'd seemed scared of him. "Wh-what the fuck did you do to me!?" Why did it feel like the walls were closing in on him? He was too hot, he couldn't breathe, who was screaming?

"Calm yourself!" The command had him falling to the floor, curling up and gripping his head in pain. Slowly the sensation of suffocation and panic began to leave him. Laying there, panting, his orange eyes went wide as he stared at the woman in silent horror.

To his utter shame he finally broke down and began to cry. Ever since coming to this cursed time he'd been treated as an enemy, a prisoner, cattle, and now his mind was finally beginning to break. He missed his brother, he missed the Brigadier and his wife, he missed… he missed his mom and dad.

Something touched his head and he flinched. Gently a hand began to stroke his hair and just lay there, letting the woman calm his shattered nerves.

"That will be all for today, and I'll see that you have a break tomorrow. You made good progress." He looked up at her in confusion and she smiled. "You threw me fifteen feet, without touching me." Realization struck him. He'd used telekinesis on her to shove her away. There was no way his feeble and panicked push could have moved her that far otherwise. He felt both accomplished and embarrassed by it.

"Oh child, you are so much more powerful than you know."