Epilogues

#74 goes back to visit her friends when she can. Well, as often as her duties allow. She watches their children grow, have children of their own, and then…

Then she goes back to the city in the mountains. Mont Saint Michel was a good place to rally; a good symbolic gesture, a beautiful shining place for angels reborn. But as the heresy withers, her people start looking for a more permanent place to live. So they build their cities at the top of mountains, clean, orderly places with hothouses and libraries and places where any homunculi can put down their obligation to serve and just be. Find themselves. Some of them keep their numbers. Some choose names. But they have a choice.

After that, she goes back.

She’s astonished to find that people remember #74, but not Lady Athena Kain. The latter’s name is inscribed on her father’s opulent mausoleum, notably without date of birth of death. At some point they Lady Athena was gone from the world, and got on with the business of forgetting her. But on Skye, some of her barns still stand, each with their little plaque inscribed with the name of their maker.

Then she goes to visit her friends one last time. All of those markers, whether small stone tablets, names on a memorial or glorious monuments, still have fresh flowers laid reverentially on them. That makes her happy. Perhaps humans will remember after all.

New Westminster Abbey has many of them.

William Donnolly, Prime Minister of Britain, Prime Minister of Scotland. His wife. His sister. His grandson, killed on active duty.

It’s a new kind of pain, #74 thinks, watching your friends grow old. Watching their children grow old. Watching them forget. #6’s words echo in her head.

How long will they remember what we did for them?

Then, one day, the city in the mountains has a few human visitors. It’s a long trek, and humans seem disinclined to make the journey these days. But they have come, and one asks for her by name. Or, more accurately, by both names.

She searches the young woman’s face, notes the brilliant blue eyes, the stature. A rangy, red-headed man stands next to her, with such a familiar smile that her heart hurts. They want to know about Skye. And she remembers everything, so they hear.

“The first thing you should know,” #74 begins, “is that they were always loved.”

(Writing while crying is hard, this might have several edits)

A few days after the cleansing, Dahlia sits in the Taverna, her new found immortality dawning on her. It is funny… she thinks to herself, I have all the time in the world now…yet no clue on where to start…

The orphans, with the help of Jane and the Royal Mail, are safe from the demon princes. Dahlia goes to see each of them. Some decide to stay, but others want to leave with her. The ones who stay grow up to become Robins that she is very proud of.

As promised, she eventually goes with Daniel Ashdown to his family home to help establish his hospital and orphanage. There, some more of the children under her care stay there. But a few remain by her side. Those few travel with her back home to Greenland.

The Asgaardians focus on helping to rebuild Europe - and re-educate survivors what the new world would entail, and who might become part of our world now. Dahlia with a few others manage to find survivors in Greenland underground. She leaves the initial efforts to the charge of the other Asgaardians, and the orphans whom she had now adopted as her and James’ own. She leaves to join the fights and efforts in Hell to aid the Vrill in retaking their home. Dahlia figures that her new form was of great assistance. It was there she and Villie are reunited. Some Vrill are even kind enough to offer them their essence every now and then in order to keep them strong.

Eventually, she feels she has given enough of her time there, and she returns to Greenland a year or so later. Her children have grown more, and the country is starting to prosper. Some Vrill have even decided to stay there, along with a handful of Homunculi. She helps form new hospitals and goes on to establish an academy of Medicine and Science…with certain parts of history thrown in for those who want to listen. She also acts as an adviser to the various leaders of her country as they come and go, creating a tolerant culture amongst her people for those who are differently alive, or not human.

The day comes that baby Harriet turns twenty five, and is now looking older than her. I remember holding you in my arms and singing to you as if it was yesterday she smiles to herself sadly.

As time continues, she still visits her family from Hanover, and all their children…and their children. She never loses touch with anyone…after all, she has all the time in the world. The birthdays, the weddings…the funerals, she is always there, one way or another.

James stays by her side the entire time. She had been hesitant to marry him, after all, she wasn’t alive anymore. But James insisted for years that he didn’t care. His stubborness managed to keep him alive for a long time, dying at a very old age. It came time eventually for her children to die too. But they have their own lives they have lived, full of love and care, free from the pain many from Hanover grew up in. They have their own families, and children, and grandchildren.

Dahlia is a great-great-great-great-great-great… is there another great?..oh, she loses track, really, as it doesn’t stop.

And they all know of Hanover and of her family. The ones who saved the world.

[ul][li]35AR - May: Refugees at Hanover Refugee Camp on the Isle of Skye successfully construct and operate a machine to cleanse the species known as Vril of a disease unique to them, turning the tide of the Demon War.[/li]
[li]35AR - September: Mont Saint Michel is recognised as an independent city state by the majority of remaining world governments and governments in exile.[/li]
[li]36AR - February: The last Demon Princes are tracked down and executed.[/li]
[li]36AR - March: The majority of Vril return to Vrilspace, leaving only a few of the species on Earth.[/li]
[li]36AR - June: Reconstruction of major city centers near fertile land begins.[/li]
[li]36AR - August: The Council of Allied Nations recognises the independent state of the Icelandic Automata.[/li]
[li]36AR - October: Reconstruction efforts are hampered by dust storms ravaging central Europe and the Americas.[/li]
[li]37AR - January: A terraforming machine is finally completed with the efforts of several scientist and engineers from the Union of the Gear and the Society of the Betterment of Humanity. The terraforming machine aids the reconstruction efforts and reduces the frequency and severity of dust storms, aiding in the return of plant life to the ashen deserts.[/li]
[li]37AR - April: A statue is erected in the village of Hanover on the Isle of Skye, dedicated by Queen Beatrice the First of the United Kingdom in memorial of the brave souls who died in the preservation of the refugee camp that previously stood in the valley.[/li]
[li]37AR - April 30th: A public holiday, Hanover Day, recognised by the majority of extant and reconstructed nations, is declared on this day by Queen Beatrice the First of the United Kingdom in memory of the days leading up to and following the tide of the Demon War turning.[/li]
[li]38AR: A new continent surfaces in the Atlantic Ocean. It is revealed to be the lost continent of Atlantis. The continent is found to be empty, except for scattered ruins and a relatively new monument erected in the remains of what is assumed to have been the capital city of the lost civilisation. The monument features a prominent stone statue of four humanoid figures holding up what looks like a glowing star. A plaque on the monument, written in cuneiform very similar to Akkadian, translates to:[/li][/ul]

[quote=“Monument Plaque”][size=150]Forgiveness and tolerance build a better world together.[/size]

In memory of all of those who fought for and aided the survival and freedom of all sentient beings.[/quote]

Following the great cleansing of the Vrill and Dhalia’s death come resurrection James started out by resigning from Her Majesty’s Bodyguard. He smiled as he realised that, no matter what, his home could never be destroyed or killed as he watched the now immortal Dhalia moving around the Camp. She was, to him, his home now and always.

The two soon left taking her airship and travelling first to Ireland where he discovered a few of his cousins still left alive, including Aedan McCready, James’ best friend from childhood. The two, happy with those in Ireland who are still alive continue on with their adventures, eventually assisting Ashdown in his work. It is here where James leaves his Anglican past behind as they decide to leave, resigning as a Priest while he adopts a number of children with Dhalia.

Several years pass in Greenland; despite his attempt to accompany Dhalia into Vrillspace, she insists that ‘someone must look after children’ and so he is forced to remain behind. He continues to raise their children without her waiting patiently for her to return, and adopting a couple more orphans in both their names. Their family grows a little when she returns from Vrillspace with a few more adoptions and they settle down as close to a proper family as they can. During this time he utilises their airship to visit the British Isles and works closely to ensure that both countries rebuild, especially spending time with the Blackwatch and Theodore Lazarus.

James becomes an esteemed historian, eminent Vrillologist and master of theology – both Nordic and Christian, as well as looking at Islam, Hindi and other faiths including the Lazarus faith of the Homunculi. He writes many books on these subjects which are still utilised to this day as master works on the subjects and takes the position as Head of the Arts departments in Greenland. He also utilises his legal training to work with the Greenland authorities as they rebuild, and eventually the British, to create a fairer world for Vrill, Humans, Homunculi and Automatons – as best he can.

After several years of living and working with Dhalia, although they have an obvious relationship, she finally relents to him and sets a date for their wedding inviting friends of both of them who have survived the first few years following the cleansing. However, he grows older and older with time despite the best efforts of the two to keep him alive. Finally, aged over a hundred although he still looks in his seventies – a testament to his stubbornness, although the rumours of Draugr abilities from his wife persist – he draws his last breath with only Dhalia for company, the last of the true mortals from Camp Hannover to finally die. In one hand he holds a blue runestone, in the other a silver cross; the same he used since his University days to ward demons. His last words are shared only with Dhalia…and if she ever shares them he does not know.

[size=85](I haven’t really checked with anyone - coz I know there’s people still processing - but hopefully they don’t object to the parts I’ve written connecting to them)[/size]

Kali Ashdown, after recovering from her wounds in the makeshift infirmary ala Flint’s Taverna, returns to India, alongside Sameera, Jane and Moloch. She shows her friends the catacombs under the ruins of Haridwar, the vast library, the place where her goddess Shakti once dwelt, the streets where she grew up. She meets with the senior priestesses of her order, and arranges for the city to be built once more - a monument to the Vril that gave her life to save so many of humankind. Her sister priestesses begged her to stay, to lead and teach, but Kali declined, knowing she will forever be one who craves new sights and adventure, and be one who bridges two cultures and never quite be comfortable in either. Together with her companions she helped to spread the word of freedom and what that might mean for cured Vril. Some do not listen, some choose to fight, but against the priestesses of Shakti they do not prevail.

After almost year of adventures she returns to Britain, visiting her brother in the Nathaniel Ashdown Memorial Hospital and Orphanage that Daniel set up and was now running, in Stafford Hall that she once called home. A fitting tribute to a man that, while his motivations will never fully be understood, worked tirelessly to save the world. She is glad to find Isabella there too for a time, and Nancy. Once again the Ashdown siblings reunited for a short time at least.

From there she travelled north to Scotland, to a little farm outside Argyll, where her business partner Vera had begun preparations for the Distillery, which would be named for her fallen gypsy friend Ivy. Seeing her scottish angel again, she knew that Vera and Kali’s story had just begun.

Finally she returned to Skye, Hanover camp, Flint’s taverna - on a year to the day that the world was saved. She saw old faces and new, and raised a glass to those absent but never forgotten. She knew the trials of life had barely begun, and she still didn’t know how to live in a world free from war, for a time. All she knew was that because of her wonderful friends and those years in a tiny camp on Skye the world was ours to make of it as we would. And all she could do was look to Sameera, the dearest friend who knew her soul like no other, and with glistening eyes smiled and prayed:

“lokah samastah sukhino bhavantu” (A sanskrit prayer which means “May all beings everywhere be happy and free. May the thoughts and actions of my own life, contribute in some way, to the happiness and freedom for all”)

And at that moment Kali was finally content that she would never know all that life would bring, but she knew that she would enjoy it as best she could, because that was the best monument there could ever be to all they had done on that little Isle of Skye - be happy and live life to the fullest.

Uriel writes a lot, these days. He writes letters every month to those he met on Hanover, and every now and then he gets them returned to him, saying that they have passed on. When this happens, he reverently tucks those letters into a large leather envelope, and wraps that in a waterproof cloth, and places it in a wooden box he keeps beneath his bed. The box is too large to ever be filled, and Uriel likes it that way. Besides, many of his friends will always be here, so he is perfectly happy to keep writing letters.

[i]He stayed with the Blackwatch for a while, returning to Scotland, then to China, patching Troy up every now and then. It was good to see them get on with their lives, and to continue to find things to do even after the war was well and truly over. He returned to Hanover and stayed there for a time, too, watching the laugh lines around Moss’ eyes grow deeper as the years passed. The children grew up, and Uriel read and sang to them, and he was reminded of how Andrew Creagh’s children had grown up, all those years ago.
He visited Mont St Michel, and taught the homunculi to heal themselves, and to perform surgeries to appear more like their human brethren, if that was what they wanted to do. Prejudice remained in isolated pockets of the world, as it always did, and some of the homunculi preferred to blend in. Uriel kept his ichor green, even though he could change it any time he wished. It remained as a token of how, long ago, he had been given the opportunity to be different. He visited Ireland, and met with Lughaidh, going grey around the temples, and learned what had happened all those years ago in Germany. He visited Iceland and Tibet and France, and told stories and heard stories. He wrote them all down, wanting them never to be forgotten.

After a time, many of them were gone. He mourned them all, traveling vast distances to make his farewells, and to sing over their graves. He had learned all he could about their stories, and told them to everyone that asked.[/i]

Uriel goes to #36, and to #13, and to Dahlia, and to Jane, and to Lady Athena Kain - he must be one of the few that still calls her this, by now - and tells them he’ll be going away for a time. Although they don’t say it, they understand what he means. He has been traveling and reading and writing for decades, now, he says, and he would like to try something else. His tattoos have long since faded. He goes to England, and lets himself into the restricted area of the headquarters for the Society of the Betterment of Humanity. He leaves a note for them, telling them to put up a sign, but not to wake him.

When people visit, the sign informs them that in the glass case is one of the homunculi from the beginning of the war, here now as a reminder of everything that was seen during that time, and as a reminder that everyone who fought the war was there to help better humanity, too. Please don’t tap on the glass.

At long last, Uriel sleeps.

The day after the machine was turned on, Dr. Lughaidh O’Brennan quietly returned to Ireland without saying goodbye. He was never very good at goodbyes, and he was in a hurry. A couple of days before Hanover’s Last Stand, he had received an urgent letter from his old village; they had been attacked, and his mother was in poor condition. He made it home just in time to say farewell. He stayed in his home village for a few weeks, helping rebuild and rekindling old friendships, but the isolation got to him after a while. Initially he re-purposed the old post office into an ICT array and used it to keep in touch with old friends, but he longed to see them in person once more.

So Lughaidh flew to Iceland, and helped Jane design and build a massive geothermal power station to help power the new automaton city that was being established. Together they started work on a portal network like the fateful one that allowed the Vril to invade London in 32AR; only this time, instead of sabotaging the project, some of the Vril helped out with the design. In exchange, Lughaidh used his newfound knowledge of Atlantean programming to re-purpose or destroy any of the remaining bits of Atlantean technology so they they could no longer be used to enslave or control.

When Atlantis resurfaced, Lughaidh was one of the first boots on the ground. He established the Ná Arís research lab there to investigate the remnants of the Atlantean civilisation, and make sure their technology didn’t fall into the wrong hands. He was always very clear about that last part, and anyone trying to abuse the items the lab researched or produced would often find themselves being visited by Vril for a “friendly chat”.

In between research and trips to visit friends, Lughaidh managed to find time to settle down and have a family. He married a girl from his village, and had three children; Anya Sophia, Conor Zechariah, and Brigit Athena. He made sure they knew about Hanover. About what it all meant, and why it was important to remember.

Then one night, as was his fashion, Lughaidh left without saying goodbye.

Jane O Flowers left the Royal Mail. A safer world didn’t need an automaton to do the job, as important as it was, and she had her own plans. First she took a little break, travelled with her friends to see India and it’s wonders. Then with a lot of hugs she left them as well, remaining out of contact for months. A few other engineers dropped quietly out of sight for a while, most notably Dr Carpenter, and Lughaidh.

Then, one day without warning, all the Zebulon 6 units turned and walked into the sea. Each group left behind a note. “It has been decided that should humans fight each other, they should shed their own blood to do so.” Within a year the Army of Allied Nations had bowed to the inevitable, and recognised the free state of the Automata of Iceland, primarily consisting of a decidedly strange looking city that could be found on the slopes of Bárðarbunga.

It took a while for humans to understand that this was not going to be an isolated incident. When simple non-sentient automatons were built for weapons of war, they always ended up, somehow, out of the human control and in Iceland. Whenever a sentient Automaton was built or developed, it would also escape human control, no matter how clever the programming that was forced on it. Some of these took up residence in Iceland, others travelled the world, following their own path. Enough of them chose to stay that the city continued to grow. Carved in giant letters into the base of the volcano itself were the words: “We will ensure that there will always be a choice.” which seemed clear enough to the inhabitants, but some humans never did stop trying to find a way around it.

Jane’s city became a place of mechanical marvels. Most notable it was where the new portal network was perfected by Lughaidh, which allowed anyone to travel to any major location in the world in an instant. Another were the beacons, a shining light that could be found in Vrill-Space and on earth, a guide for those who had lost their way on the wrong side of the veil. Following the beacons led you along safe roads, and guided you back home, whichever side that may have been.

In the end Jane only built three Automaton’s with her own hands. A woman, a man, and a genderless. They were the true precursors to the Mecha-Sapiens race. None of them shared their mothers taste in… anything. The sections of the city that they eventually built for themselves showed very different influences from each other, and none of the somewhat demented and garish exuberance of Jane’s original design. They each had their own adventures and stories, and they each changed in their own ways and built their own children. The University they founded remains the greatest centre of learning in any world.

Jane never did develop taste. She took delight in poetry, letters, and the ever changing world. She carefully preserved memories of all of her friends, and always said she was so happy that in her life-time she would be privileged to meet so many more. She immortalised important moments and people in small items and poems (the poems did improve) as well as actual recordings of the event. The building in which she lived kept getting floors added on top and below as she accumulated bric-a-brac from across the world. She never missed one of Zebulon 5’s plays. Those friends that were also immortal, Homunculi, Vrill, Cyborg, Automaton, and Draugr were always welcome in her home, and were frequently visited in return, as well as getting many, many letters.

Z6’s were re-purposed as traders and recorders, and they travelled everywhere, preserving moments from the rebuilding of the earth and the people and cultures. Automata both kept copies of these for historians, and traded the memories with the vrill, though what they gained in return was never clear to outsiders. In the mundane world they traded tech, and never wanted for money or materials.

Jane dated quite a few people across the centuries, Vrill and humans, as well as other Automata. Grief never seemed to weigh her down for long. Then, one day, Jane stepped through the cities great portal into Vrill-space without the time-space calibrator attached to her wrist, and she has not yet returned. The automata have kept her part of the city just as she had left it, and insist that one day she will be back.

After all, she left her hat.

After the war, Sariel was rarely seen again. He never returned to the Mail. With Jane having moved on, and his other friends there dead in the final days, there seemed little point.

On his return from Vrill-Space, he tried to aid the other homonculi, guiding those he could and to free those held in bondage where he could. When the Heresy was eventually revealed to be so much less than what he had devoted himself towards, Sariel’s heart and drive deserted him. Returning briefly to Hanover, he tracked down Jasper and to apologise quietly (as he had promised he would should this occur) before again moving on.

A letter reached #36 not long after.

"If I can’t serve in Heaven, I may as well rule in Hell.

After the war, Sariel was rarely seen again. He never returned to the Mail. With Jane having moved on, and his other friends there dead in the final days, there seemed little point.

On his return from Vrill-Space, he tried to aid the other homonculi, guiding those he could and to free those held in bondage where he could. When the Heresy was eventually revealed to be so much less than what he had devoted himself towards, Sariel’s heart and drive deserted him. Returning briefly to Hanover, he tracked down Jasper and to apologise quietly (as he had promised he would should this occur) before again moving on.

A letter reached #36 not long after.

"If I can’t serve in Heaven, I may as well rule in Hell.

Yuri stays in Hanover for a while, helping repair the damage made to the camp.
Leaving his Demon tome behind for Esther, he leaves to track down his Mother and Father, and to write the final chapter of the Vault he grew up in.

The Wanderlust that was in his body meant he could never stay in one place for long. For the Rest of his days, Yuri would visit many places in Europe, helping clear wreckage and rebuilding what he could before resupplying and moving on again.

Dreams change when they have to see the light of day. Idealistic visions have to shift when you invite others to join in. As the months tick past #36 realises this and he eases back on his determination to be the leader of the homunculi. Truth be told it is really #74 who makes Mont Saint Michel into the sanctuary it becomes but #36 is always there at her right hand.
Eventually she leaves and #36 tries to fill the space left behind but it is not long before he hands over leadership to other homunculi more suited to governing. For years #36 serves Mont Saint Michel and as the bastion grows, becomes recognised as an independant city-state and the leadership changes as is required but #36 is always there at the core of it.

Until one day he stepped back and saw that he was not needed. Mont Saint Michel could run itself. The homunculi could be themselves in a world that was (at least for the greater part) accepting of them.
So he smiled and left.

#36 assisted Lughaidh in several of his hunts for Atlantian artefacts and when Atlantis rose from the oceans he was there.

He returned to Skye and to Hanover from time to time, seeing the decendents of those he had fought beside and retelling the stories of their ancestors. Occasionally explorers claim to have spotted a man amid the ruins of what was rumoured to be an old Resurection Station for the Honourable East India Company, leaning on a spear and looking pensive or perhaps he was crying.

History forgot about #36 but as with Mont Saint Michel he was always there, helping, pushing from within, a cog within a much greater machine.

Once the war ended, Genevieve Crane’s crew rebuilt her airship and they went back to the Church’s headquarters. The very first thing she did was thoroughly wash Wilde’s coat.

She took some time trying to polish off her research, and eventually gave up on editing and finally published it under her own name as a series of unfinished, rambling journals documenting the war. All of them had a simple dedication note in the front: “For Jonas Wilde.”

One year after the war, a petition led by her to change the official title from demonologist to Vrilologist was successful. Eventually she stepped down from being Van Helsing and became a professor, though not after she ensured that the coat would be the position of office. Her willingness to learn never faded. She died at a healthy old age, happy and surrounded by biological children and children of her studies and faith.

The Vlaschenkos returned to Russia after they recuperated from the burns obtained in the infirmary fire. It didn’t take long. Iveni was promoted and Edwina was reinstated as a strategist alongside her dear husband. They served until the very last of the remaining aggressive demons had been cleansed of their hold on the world, and when there were no more, they retired with honourable discharges and medals due to their military efforts during the war.

Their little family grew quite quickly when Iveni and Edwina finally settled down in a house with absolutely no gypsy furnishings anywhere to be found. Within five years of the war ending, there were three little Charles-Vlaschenkos, and many years after that Edwina and Iveni were grandparents. Edwina never told her husband who had saved his life with a voluntary blood transfusion on their last visit to Skye. And he never asked.

It was many centuries before Daji was able to return to Earth. In the meantime, she often extended her hospitality to those that chose to visit her, creating entire new sections of her house just for her guests. She often sent gifts and messages back for those still alive, especially her honourary comrades in the Blackwatch. Villie and Sameera received regular special attention, as she had promised to each of them.

At the time of the resurfacing of Atlantis, there was an unspoken sigh of relief that occurred throughout most of the Vril lands. The stories that her brethren told pointed to that moment in history as the end of the war, not the three years previous that many humans told of.

When she finally did regain enough strength to visit again, whispers began to surface of a fox with nine tails that would roam for about a week in the forests near Hanover every year on the anniversary of the war ending. It was said to be a spirit of protection for the area, though it was one mystery that no one mortal ever lived long enough to explain, nor did anyone ever see it properly. What they did know, however, was that the fox brought a week of good luck to Hanover.

Each of the others from Hanover who had lasted the time in between also received personal visits from Daji in her human form, whether they knew her or not. She took the time to reminisce with them about times gone by and catch up with what had happened since.

Eventually she grew too weak to retain any of her forms, and returned home. Long after she was no more, her home remained a sanctuary for those that wished to visit. The gardens contained several monuments dedicated to the humans that had helped her and her like-minded brethren, and her house was full of positive memories and stories for any that chose to experience Daji again.

Father Rohit travels with the Blackwatch until his early and untimely death six years after the events that unfolded at Hanover.

In the three months of RnR he works tirelessly alongside the Colonel, helping clean up Argyll. It is said his affection for her is strong, but unrequited, and that in time he simply decides to give up on the idea of marriage to continue Gods good work.

He follows orders to a fine tee, and in his spare time learns the bag pipes so that they may ring through the caverns of hell until all those who still seek to harm humanity are driven from this world.

After a couple of years, he declares himself a Theological practitioner of Faith, and sets up a system of religion to accept all into its fold, and to practice faith together. He studies all religions he can find information on, and attempts to set up the first unified Church of Faith where all practice is accepted as true and rightful. He visits his old friend James McCready for advice and knowledge, and also ensures he makes the effort to track down and get the always loud opinion of his childhood friend Khali.

He struggles to come to terms with the now irrelevance of his training under the Church of Van Helsing, and sets up a program for scarred and troubled veterans. He helps them, by spending time rehabilitating them, talking to them about their survivors guilt, and showing them down the path of faith.

It is during his time with one of these veterans, an ex member of her majesties bodyguard, he is killed when his patient has a psychotic post traumatic stress disorder episode. His dying words are him repeatedly saying “I forgive you… I forgive you…” though those who are present say it does not seem like he is only talking to the veteran, but someone somewhere else.

His beret is laid to rest with him on his grave stone, with the passage and words below inscribed on it:

Rohit, son of Chandra, father unknown.

Loyal and proud member of the Blackwatch.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

“You heard me say, ‘I am going away and I am coming back to you.’ If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.

Come now; let us leave.".

Lieutenant Colonel Abegail Lamont leads the Black Watch home to Argyll; current orders: direct the rebuild. Her regiment push the case with the Duke of Argyll, and she is promoted to Colonel. She is both proud and embarrassed by this show of faith. After the three months of promised R&R are up, she arranges for troops to be sent to China - lead by Lieutenant’s Yang and MacDuff - to help the empress with her rebuild plans.

When Queen Victoria abdicates, Abegail witnesses the coronation of the new Queen Beatrice, her Queen, to the throne. She and the Black Watch look on with pride as years of dedication and support finally manifest.

Lamont gets to work in Argyll, rebuilding her family estate and the lands of the Duke. She arranges a safe and consistent supply line between Argyll and Skye, with both camp Campbell and Hanover. She is often seen about Skye, in the early years, accompanied by Lieutenant Rohit Theodore. When not attending to business she visits often with her sister and the residents of Hanover. The Taverna is never without the newly minted “Ivy’s whiskey”. It is agreed that the drop is remarkably good for such a young vintage.

Though the world is starting to heal, Abegail never forgets those the Black Watch left behind in hell. The loss of Colonel Robert Munro still haunts her, and she finds it hard to move on. Three years after the war, Abegail tells Rohit she intends to return to hell, or Vrillspace as many now call it. As is often the case, he insists that he should accompany her. She does not ask the others who were in hell with her - she had promised they would never be asked to do such a thing again - but some amongst the watch volunteer themselves.

Thus, the sound of bagpipes are heard once again ringing through the caverns of hell. Again it feels like the fairy realms for her, but this time there is no creeping darkness. Remembering an invitation given the night the world was saved, the Black Watch head first to Thoth’s library. Lamont, unsure which plane of Vrillspace had been her ‘hell’, asks many questions and searches many books. Eventually they find something that mentions the tall trees she remembers and the Black Watch begin the search for survivors.

There are some - broken soldiers desperately in need of familiar skies - but never Munro. Those who wish are given leave to visit with Daji, always an hospitable host. A year and a day after the Watch enter hell, Lamont - fearing they will never find what she searches for - orders Rohit to guide the troops home. It is a bitter farewell; over the years, she and Rohit had grown close, and she knew in her heart she would never see him again. Abegail continues the search alone.

When Abegail does return to Argyll many years have passed. Upon Rohit’s grave she places white lilies, the red feathers of the Black Watch, and a single scottish thistle. She is accompanied by a man with the bearing of a soldier, and a young boy she calls Theodore.

Troy “The Red Boy” Yang
Captain in the Chinese special forces of the Army of Allied Nations
Lieutenant in the Black watch Royal Regiment of Scotland

Before leaving with the black watch Troy approaches Sariel with a parcel for Daji, a deals a deal three bottles of whisky for his new Vrill Friend, Troy was nothing if not a man of his word. He thanks Sariel and gives him the lowest bow he can manage without tearing his wounds open.

after being debriefed on Argyll and told he should take three months to recover (everyone knew that wasn’t going to happen) he quickly left for Asia.
It took him longer to climb the Himalayas this time but he finally reached the monastery where he first encountered The Red Boy. as he approached he saw the spot where he fought #36 for the first time, he can never thank him enough for stopping the demon from taking a life.
once reaching the monastery he lights four candles, one for each of his old squad he failed, apologizes for leading them to there death and begs for forgiveness.

He stays there and mediates for days before one morning standing up, leaving his sword, and hobbling back down the mountain, blood still dripping for his wounded body.
He next went back to China to tell his family that he was still alive, it had been eight years since he was last home but the manner was still mostly in tact. It was an emotional re-connection with his adopted family but they soon forgave him once hearing that they will soon have a daughter in law
“you met a nice Chinese girl then”
“… no, i met a strong scottish woman” Troy replied with a smile.
on the day of the wedding Troy left a traditional Chinese gown out for his wife thinking she wouldn’t look twice at it and they could laugh about it later, to his surprise she wore the dress and was a vision in red and gold, he had never smiled so much in his life.

Once his three months were up Troy and his new wife Fia met up with Uriel along with any others that wish to help and started their efforts to rebuild china and open negotiations between the Queen and the Empress. during this time he also would question Uriel of his life as a homunculus. With what he had learnt from Uriel, Sariel and #36 along with his own personal experiences with homunculus he wrote a book called “The Rise of the Angels” in an effort to show humanity that they were as alive as anything else.

whenever one of the watch passes Troy makes the trip to Argyll to see his friends and say some words and when the time comes that some the watch venture into Vrill space Troy salutes the the watch for the first time.

When the book was published Troy left the Black watch with their blessing to follow a career in politics, fighting for homunculus freedom and equal rights. he would travel around China and later around the globe fighting for these rights along with his now growing family.
Family was important to him and he couldn’t help but light up whenever he saw their faces.
However during a rally Troy was shot for his views on equal freedom, in his final moments he pulled himself back up to the microphone and finished his speech before collapsing his knees. He managed to whisper a final farewell to his wife before drifting away.

#36 would later come to China to collect his body, it seems Troy signed up to the Free homunculus program before the end of the war without telling anyone but he had some terms. His family was not to see him unless they asked to and he is to be able to keep some items from his previous life. this includes this wedding ring, photos and letters from friends and family, and a copy of “The monkey king defeats the red boy” a book he would read to his children.

The Iron armed Homunculus was last seen by Hanover, entering Vrill space with a Fox looking Vrill and humming a song

“Pit a feather tae your bonnet, and a kilt aboon your knee,
Enlist my bonnie laddie and come awa with me”

She who had been Doppelganger, Sarah, Pandemonium the giant slayer, and was now known, ingloriously, as Snuffles the cat, lay in stunned silence next to the portal the engineers had opened so casually in the lab. She’s been killing the lessor demons as they tried to crawl through, and therefore had been right next to the pulse as the energy streamed into Home and crackled back out into Hanover.

The rage was gone, the desire to see humans hurt as she had hurt was gone. Her eyes ached from the glow, and her mind ached with the sudden onset of new emotions.

She could sense her mistress somewhere in the tavern, but couldn’t make herself get up in order to pay her respects. Even when she was picked up and carried around she had no strength to object. Later she was given to Daji, and told she should go home, and that there were no more obligations.

There were though, she knew that.

She had always delighted in human fear and misery, rather than the pain of their flesh. She would enter a village, make sure they had a rumour that if you met yourself you would die a set amount of time later (creating it herself if she had to), and then later then stroll past a human travelling alone while wearing their face. She would wait as a harmless animal near her victim, soaking in their fear and the fear of their loved ones, and kill them when the time was up.

This had seemed funny at the time, but suddenly it… wasn’t.

She’s served an Atlantian spy-master, Curt, Dagon, Samera… She’d been trapped on earth when the gates fell. She hadn’t been truly free or gone Home in millennia.

So she went Home, for a while. Then she came back to pay her debt.

She quietly visited Samera, Athena, and Jane (who was pleased to finally meet the Vrill who kept borrowing her face). She was honoured to call them friends. Then she disappeared into the regrowing wilderness of Earth, so empty now of human habitation.

Since then new stories have emerged. In some lands people tell of getting lost, and seeing a loved-one in a black and white cloak in the distance. The story goes that when they tried to catch up they would find themselves alone on a familiar path. In other places the story goes that if you are lost and in trouble, you may meet a large black and white creature; maybe a cat, raven or dog. It will be too big to be a pet, too friendly to be wild, too intelligent to be an animal. If you follow the creature and treat it well, it will keep you safe, find you food, and lead you home.

Because of these tales, small items of black and white became lucky tokens for travellers, said to keep them from getting lost on their journeys. One of the most common items became a small chess piece, usually a pawn, tied to a feather or tuft of fur in the opposite colour.

That seemed appropriate to her now-named as Guide.

Asmodeous screamed in anger at Hanover and the mortals there upon her death at leo’s blade. She continued to let the memories she had from Leo stir up that anger more and more through out the next years.

Then one day, someone came to her fortress whistling and seeking her, the being known as Sariel. At first she was hostile towards him, thinking he came to mock her, but he was here to be her prince. Over time she softened her views towards him. Slowly with Sariel’s help her hate faded, and together they ruled her section of Vrillspace. She earned her own happy memories, not ones she had to steal from others. Slowly over decades her hate faded and she learned of Hanover from Sariel.

10 years after falling there on the spot she died she secretly had a crystal statue placed of Leo and Moss from their wedding day,an act of retribution and a silent salute to the moment her life changed because of a homunculi who decided to talk when others attacked.

Six minutes post-cure-deployment:
On a hillside away from Hanover camp, She pauses for a moment and looks back over Her shoulder. The VrilThreat appears to have been effectively dealt with, Her primary directive fulfilled. Or, it would be were it still present. The energy surge that scanned Her when the template chamber was activated has had unexpected side effects. Her directives, which have overridden all higher thought when necessary for all Her second life, appear to have been wiped from hardcode buffers. She is without purpose. This is a human state to be in, novel, but She will adapt. Her biotic regeneration has also entered a new phase, it is now self-sufficient, no more bovine protein replacement will be needed and Her cognitive capabilities are vastly improved. Her next course of action is unclear. Those whose plan She participated in have no further use of Her and She judges them likely to attempt incapacitation if She reacquires contact with them in the near future. The Vril will likewise have no use for her abilities now that the corruptive aetherpattern is neutralised.
She has no required function.
There are no directives guiding Her actions.
She has no immediate needs.
She does experience something which, upon more analysis, proves to likely be curiosity.
She never experienced a significant portion of this planet when alive the first time.
She remains inexperienced at all with the Vril realm and is no longer required to attempt confrontation.
In absence of overriding directives, correcting these deficits will be an adequate purpose.
She… looks forward to it.
The being that is and is not Agnes Fletcher returns Her gaze to the path ahead and resumes travel.
She is now certainly not what She was intended to be, but She has indeed become something more.
She does not know what that something is yet, but She eagerly anticipates discovering it with time.

She’d taken the name from a child who had died in her sleep, died at 3 days old of a fever. The only name that had ever really meant anything to her was Victoria. Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa. She’d lost count of the names she’d had before that. Even Morrigan … that was a title, a rallying point. Not the safe warm blanket of love that “Victoria” was.
How could she have been anything other than a loyal queen to Britain, with Victoria I as a mother?

When the Machine activated, Victoria revelled in the pain it brought, burning out the tainted hate. At last, she’d be free, allowed to lose control, allowed to feel honestly. And when she did, she cried.
Cried for Frederick, her husband, who she’d loved. Cried for the children she’d never bore him.
Cried for her mother, and father.
Cried for her siblings. Cried for the mistrust Beatrice still felt towards her. Cried for the lost years with her favourite little sister.
Cried for the deaths of humans, those killed by her species in their illness, those who might have lived longer, had she not sent them to battlefields far from home, to buy time for the others.

She didn’t cry for the crown, when the time came to pass it to Beatrice.
She did cry for her locket, when she gave it to her grand-niece.

And then she went home.