My journey aboard the Naglfar was a lone one. Due to damage along the port nacelle and main fuselage, the Railjack was non-viable for use.

The vessel was flight-capable, but combat operations were beyond it for a time.

A long time if the state of the 'dock' was any example.

Not a proper facility, the dock was little more than a hollowed-out section of rock, stands, and supports in place to spread out the weight of the mighty warship as it rested.

No, not rested, moored. Naval terms apply to space-based vessels due to similarities between them.

Despite the damage, there was no one working on the Railjack as I walked along the supporting scaffolding, no crews welding new metal into place, no personal moving about in the cavernous space.

I understood resources were thin, sparse; what there was being rationed, or being used for the necessary work of establishing the manufactories.

Things like a damaged Railjack set aside for a spare to the spare could wait, the Sol system was lacking in heavy combat that required more than a passing presence.

A hatch lay open before me, the soft blues and greens of the main hull giving way more steel colors, greys and blacks, with a hint of red along key points.

There are several decks, I know this from the blueprints that I was… provided. It was the main section I sought, between the engineering sections and the cockpit.

A voice gives me pause, words booming from throughout the ship.

"Quill, welcome aboard. I am Cephalon Cy, you will refer to me as such."

"Swazdo-lah Cephalon Cy," I say in kind, the word rolling off my tongue despite the fact I only knew its meaning and its pronunciation from the visions. "Do you know why I am here?"

A screen flashes into existence before me, hovering, near-transparent. An upside-down red pyramid composed of multiple shifting images lies within. It flares in time with the Cephalon's commanding words as he speaks.

"Hmm, that is usually your domain of knowing Quill. I am but a grounded Command Cephalon, my databases and poetics do not extend into the realm of intrigue."

"It is not intrigue that I seek, Cephalon Cy," I say as I continue to make my way up the ship.

The hatch opened up into engineering, a tri-decked area with routes leading to the forge/storage deck and into the area which I sought. Here and there bore signs of battle damage, a scorch mark there, a burn here, a slash through the middle pillar there.

Several panels had been removed, showcasing the internals of the warship. Parts that would not seem out of place of a ship of the sea, next to pieces that seemed… organic, alongside parts I could not describe if I tried.

But it was not all damage and repair work. Here and there were other marks, marks of a well-cared for and loved craft.

A painting on the wall, a hidden slot which held a string instrument, a folded out section that contained padding; the Naglfar might have been born as a warship, but the Tenno crew that once manned her breathed life into her frame, turning into a second home.

"… I come seeking knowledge, knowledge that you alone in this… system, have."

The upper level has more hidden sections, a table with chairs that pulled from the wall, a screen which still showed a half-finished image upon it, a Komi board, its pieces still waiting to be played.

The Tenno, masters of blade and gun, relentless unstoppable warriors, who would purge entire facilities and installations of their occupants, steal data from right under its owners' noses, crush an attacking force within minutes… yet would spend hours assisting locals by fishing for them, would seek out animals to capture and protect them for Conservation, would risk life and limb for those that rejected the dogmas of their overlords.

Their enemies viewed them with fear and disgust for their actions, but their allies would hold them up as demi-gods.

Much to the embarrassment of the Tenno if the records are to be believed.

"I will provide what I can," states Cephalon Cy. "But some of my data is currently… lacking."

… the door was broken, one of its parts seemingly having been punched inward, warping the whole frame.

I eyed the spray of dried blood along the floor leading to the door, before moving to the other side of the ship.

This door was unbroken and opened at my approach. Inside was a large oval room, with two glass windows on either side.

… wait, one glass window, the other was broken.

I knew that if I traveled further to the bow, I would find the cockpit, the control center of the craft.

However, it was the small pedestal in this room I was looking for. It was the main access point for the ship's Datascape, a point that would supply me a way to my secondary goal.

It was there I went, slinging my pack down to the floor as I went. It contained the tools I would need for the Dive. There were parts that I understood how they functioned due to similarities of my old equipment, but there were other pieces that I only understood what they did, not how. Even then some of it flew so far over my head that I felt like a child.

"Ah," Cephalon Cy intones as I settle myself in place. "I see now why you have come, and who you are."

"Be known, were it not for the will of the Council, my Precepts, and the word of the Quills, I would have vented the hanger and the ship over your actions."

"I understand," I say, somehow at ease. Perhaps because I knew that today I would not die? His anger is understandable, what I had done would have placed me in crosshairs of many, crosshairs of which there would be no escape from.

Yet they let me live, renamed me a Quill, gave me no task to follow…

Perhaps that was the punishment, to See and Understand, then to strive towards undoing my mistakes. Their goals would be forwarded because of it.

"And while I do wish to partake in what you have perceived I want," I continue, living the wonder of my continued existence for another day. "It is for another reason I have come."

The Cephalon is quiet, a pulse here and there on his image.

"… state your request, but know that I am not an archive. I may not have whatever it is you seek."

I take the chance, as what I have Seen ends here, the next part of my vision lacking context. Context that I require to continue.

"Tell me about Sajuuk."

Cephalon Cy pauses, his image flaring for a moment, before…

"Sajuuk… Sajuuk… Sajuuk… Sajuuk… Sajuuk…"

Cy stutters for a second, the lights aboard the ship flickering before fading. The red of his avatar bleeds away, becoming white. His voice alters, become bland and toneless.

I ready my equipment, I need to path the engrams and imprints as Cy cycles through his Datascape.

"Fire in Engineering, port weapons turned to slag. Tunguska capacitor power is cycled into shields. A hit. Shields waver, but Krodhi's work keep them alight. We are running and Sentient fighters are chasing. Others of our wing are unavailable for assistance, we are alone in this fight. But not in the war."

"Below, the battle of Hull rages on. Transmissions indicate a turning point, Sajuuk has fled the battle, wounded by a Dax, but not beaten. He will return. The cost of blood will be high this day, as well as the next."

The lights slowly come back on, turning to full brightness.

Then, aside from the hum from the deck plating, all is quiet in the ship.

"… Sajuuk, the General, the leader form the front," intoned Cy. "He was the first, a symbol of the Sentient adaptation, of them learning."

"The outer systems were the first to fall, then the midrim. Orokin weapons and technology was turned against the Empire by the Sentient threat. The Orokin sealed away their most advanced weaponry, for their war-machines were kin to the Sentients, and everything else they would adapt to. From this the Orokin turned to older means, of blade, gun, and flesh."

"However, the Sentients continued to adapt, going from mindless drones gathering up weapons and gear, intergrading it into themselves, infiltrating into Orokin systems to turn them against their masters, to developing their own weapons, retooling terraforming designs into weapons, countering the defense systems by exploiting weaknesses, learning from each battle. It did not take long for Sajuuk to emerge from the dark."

"He was the first, the Vanguard of the new Sentient wave. What he lacked in subtlety he more than made up in with rage and planning; often worlds would 'repel' an assault, only to discover an ambush, Sentient fighters hidden away, waiting for the moment to strike."

"In the beginning, of all the Named, none matched Sajuuk in combat, in both the field and in the greater war, and he never felt shy about boosting about it. His voice would echo across the system, mocking the Orokin and all that stood beside them for their foolishness. As the war dragged on, however, more Named emerged, rose and fell, even as the Tenno rose and fell with them. Sajuuk became nothing more than another voice beside Hunhow, a reminder of how our foe wished for nothing but our destruction."

"A war that was won, in the end," I added.

"… So I came to realize, at the cost of much."

I knew chunks of the rest of the story, of how the Tenno pushed back the Sentients, of the aftermath of the war, the slow rebuild, the restoration of parts of the system.

Of the betrayal of the Tenno against the Orokin, and the final collapse of the Empire.

"Were you not aware of the events that occurred at Lua?" I ask. "Both of the Sentient assault and the Tenno rebellion?"

"No," Cy drones out. "Those events happened after…"

After the Mission.

Part of the knowledge I was given about Cy was of a disastrous final mission, one that was expunged from the Weave records.

"What had befallen the System? What calamity had happened to stop the endless surge of Sentient armadas? How had the Golden Orokin Empire fallen so? And so, I learned from my fellow Cephalon though the Weave."

"I was in shock of what had become of the System, of the Corpus greed, of the Plague that ravaged the outer territories, of the Genemolds that viewed themselves as rightful rulers of the ruins left behind in the Old War. I ignored the rabble however, for the Sentient threat was returning. But as Scarlet Spear came to a close, and the Murex Waves were repulsed, I found myself wondering…"

"Where was the Eragn, the Master of Flame? What had happened to Ornehell, the Sunstriker? Where were the Turaga-class Worm Ships? What of Kalit, the Keeper of the Drone Blades? Sajuuk, the First Born? Trigo, the One That Slumbers?"

"What had befallen the System? What calamity had happened to stop the endless surge of Sentient armadas? How had the Golden Orokin Empire fallen so?"

"… irrelevant now, the Origin System is lost to us. The untouchable past has no place in the present."

An old piece of history, one that I find myself a part of. Cephalon Cy might not require it, but if I am to undo my mistakes, then I must learn all I can about the hidden world I am now a part of.

I needed to fully understand everything if I was to-

A girl, young, long blonde hair, athletic figure, facial features that made her 'pretty,' despite the angry/wild look in her glowing eyes.

She glared at me past her tears, several objects floating around her, screaming, "Fuck you!"

A phone of unknown make, showing the time: 7:15, 7:16. Water is all around me, pouring from the sky and rushing by down the street. A rumble, a burst of air. I look up to see a wall of water streaking forth towards me, overwhelming the street. Within, a monstrous figure with several green eyes stares back.

"Leviathan spotted," I say. "CC-7."

The wave bears down upon me, blotting out the surroundings.

"Daniel!" comes the scream. I know what it is about, I've seen it before, what will be becoming what was. Still, I walk outside, unconcerned.

Several of those that call themselves 'my flock' stare into the sky, enraptured by it. I know what it is, having seen it before, but this would be my first viewing it with my own eyes.

The sky was burning, waves and wisps of blue-white light, flickering with hints of red and green, washed outward from somewhere within the city. A pillar of light rippled its way upward, crackling along into the sky. The source.

"Do not fear," I say. "It shall pass soon enough."

"But what the fuck is it?" one asks. "Shouldn't we be worried about this?!"

"Why?" I ask. "Aside from one girl in the city, we are the only ones that can see it."

"Quill," Comes a voice, altered by mechanical means.

"Gashadokuro," I reply. "Swazdo-lah Surah, I hope your trip was uneventful?"

The Daidarabotchi towers over us, its glowing face turned towards the city. On each of its large arms a turret pulses, waves of gravity projecting from them, lifting up wrecks and parts of buildings from around the Docks, to be dropped off near where they were getting broken down, some being set aside for Gasha.

The walker was a new model, one that had more firepower, but was slower. As of now Gasha had not named it and was taking requests from Brockton Bay.

Some were working quite hard in naming it Stompy McStomp Face.

Many people were concerned with having the great machine there, the sheer size of it dwarfing everything within the city. Despite the fact the gang war was near-instantly silenced by his arrival, or perhaps because of it, there was a strong presence of capes and cops near the Docks, watching as the workers there hook up the utilities for the city into the machine.

There was no need for them to be here, outside to comfort themselves. I doubted that much would happen, after all, no one wanted to fight the man that defeated the Ash Beast in combat.

The Triskelion was somewhere else, Gasha not saying where, while Cacus was apparently still at the bottom of the ocean, most of its parts given to the as of yet unnamed walker.

Gasha steps up beside me, each step echoing due to his heavy power armor, the hiss of hydraulics softer than one would expect for his size.

He towers over me, not quite as much as his several stories tall walker, but enough that I must crane my neck to see up to his faceplate.

"I have questions for you Quill, the most important is thus: why have you not told the girl what she is?"

"Not all of us are blessed with the Sight Quill."

Kuzunoha is displeased, that much is obvious. The fact she chased me down to Grand Forks made that clear.

She never changed people, not unless she had plans to kill them. They were always brought to her.

That made me wonder if there were times that Alexandria was forced to meet Kuzunoha on her terms?

"No," I reply. "You do not. A good thing as well, however. If everyone could see what we could, then death would be preferable."

"I doubt that."

I laugh, a sad laugh, tinged with misery.

"That is because you do not See, I can."

It pops up in my Minds Eye: a girl, lashing out at those that would be her allies. A land, torn asunder by hubris and desperate actions of those that wish to save it. A world, broken under the heel of the ones that press down with glee.

"… it is not for those that can not stomach the evil that must be done for the world to continue spinning."

Kuzunoha says nothing, one hand tapping on the device that renders her invisible. Strange that she would find me, even stranger that she knew where to look.

Unless…

"… why are you here?"

I look away and down the street, eyes finding the one I followed.

"Because he has yet to realize his place, to accept that we are never the protagonists of the story."

There Armsmaster speaks with another Quill, one that he shares a history with, through if she speaks of it nothing will change. This will be their last meeting; no other threads of their time would cross.

Further down the street, a woman in a black dress plays the violin, eyes closed, swaying to the music. Her white hair was a sharp contrast to her dress, helping her stand out even more with the crowd around her.

Fingers lined with cybernetic enhancements far behind what the world could provide dance along the strings, the wonder of control not yet having faded despite the years.

In the back of the crowd, a masked man stands, watching the woman play. The uniform marks him as aligned with the Protectorate, but only just.

Him and his wife not wanting anything major to do with the organization since the woman's disappearance years before was the cause of their distance.

Another meeting of threads, this one bittersweet in ways. It will bring closure to them all.

"Quill? Are you operational?"

There was no control over what I Saw, nor of when it occurred. It would just happen whenever it felt right.

"… I am fine… how long?"

"Three-point seven seconds. Scans indicated near-total loss of higher brain activity while a massive influx of Void energies poured through your form. One of this ships Aetheric Condensers have failed to that that stunt, don't let it happen again."

"If I had control of it, then I would control them!" I snap, reaching for my pad. I needed to write down everything, already I could see things slipping away the threads twisting in the wind.

Frenzied, my fingers move, jotting down what I could recall as best as I could. I didn't know a single person there. Gashadokuro? I knew that name, but it was passing knowledge, same for Kuzunoha.

I could see the future unfold, see the threads tangle and drift, but only just. It was depressing, demoralizing.

"… Perhaps I can help. Follow."

Lights flicker on the floor. A path forms, leading back through the door and into the core of the ship.

I pause, before gathering up my equipment.

The rest of the ship dims, the guiding lights casting all in shadow. Battle damage shifts into a harsher tone, the strewn about objects adding to the sudden ominous environment.

"I, am a Command Cephalon, purpose build for Railjack operation. I alone contain the necessary tactical parameters, the necessary astrogation poetics, the warfighting database. Before, there were others that could have learned, given time and purpose alteration to their intrinsical engrams, time we did not have."

"Now, however, there is no need for a Command Cephalon, our numbers too few, the battle fought requiring… more subtle methods than I can provide. I now serve as a guide, an adviser, to those that seek it at least. This is for this reason that I will help you, for you are a new type of boarding crew. You may occupy the Lighthouse, but I shall show you the spark."

The path took me into the back of the ship, into a section restricted from the plans I had obtained. A room, crescent shaped, and in the back lies a large container, half-glass, filled with swirling blue/black colors and the impression of stellar phenomenon. Faded dull ice links from the back of the container and into the deck of the ship.

I find myself drawn to it, the mists rushing and flowing chaotically… but there is a path, a pattern in the madness.

"Behold, an absence. Describe it."

Something moves behind the mist. An echo of something beyond comprehension.

"Image a color you have never seen. That is where you are. This, is what you must See."

From within, something taps the glass.

The ship shakes.

And I hear laugher.

Record of investigation: Cephalon Cy, Command Cephalon of Railjack Armada. Quill Daniel Bobrow Tertiary presiding.

Advancement to Secondary has been established, as preordained.

Release from main Confluence confirmed.

A/N: Something that I hammered out really quick over the last two days on a whim. I'm going to come back to it later, but it gets the point across.

Will cover some SB comments later, but for now, tools down, work is finished.

Edit: damn, I got so caught up in making this work I actually forgot the whole reason why I wanted to make it in the first place, Warframe history. Well that's what I get for not paying attention to my notes.

Fixed now, added a bit more about Sajuuk and why he is important..