"Don't move!"
"Drop your weapons! On your knees, now!"
Sharp, urgent commands came from every direction as several crimson dots from laser sights instantly settled over vital points on Cassios's body.
Rapid footsteps drew closer, and figures in white armour swept in like a rising tide, swiftly occupying every corner of the ruins where a brief, bloody massacre had just taken place.
Bolters, lasguns, plasma weapons—every Gun muzzle pointed steadily at the towering, filth-covered figure in the centre.
Cassios stood where he was, making no attempt to wipe the blood from his face or hands.
He did not even look at the Holy Word Army Sergeants surrounding him, poised as though facing a formidable enemy.
He merely drew a slow, deep breath of air heavy with Smoke, blood, and dust. Then he slowly opened his hands, still smeared with scraps of the traitors' flesh and blood, and raised them beside his shoulders, palms facing out.
His massive body relaxed. The killing intent that had been almost tangible moments earlier ebbed like a receding tide, leaving only bottomless exhaustion and a calm bordering on indifference.
"Move! You two! What are you waiting for? Over here!"
A Holy Word Army officer had noticed the mother and daughter huddled behind a broken wall in the distance, trembling.
Lowering his voice, he gave hurried orders to two soldiers beside him, then led the way with his Gun raised. He approached swiftly but carefully, taking pains not to provoke the dangerous figure in the centre.
He placed himself between Cassios and the mother and daughter. The gesture might have been meaningless in the face of the strength Cassios had just displayed, but he did it nonetheless.
Then, in a voice as steady as he could manage but brooking no argument, he directed his soldiers to