Ash Locust Helmet

In the target's chambers sat a middle-aged man with long, handsome mustaches, his eyes sad and kind.

And with him? Dom: in civilian clothes... sharing a glass of aged claret.

Pain cracked through Pilio's brain, the smoke-gem between his eyes flashing hot!

Sudden images of sunlight. Vineyards. A woman's face.

The gem burned as it pushed these images away.

A young man with grand mustaches smiling and saying, "Of all the sons I could have had, I'm glad it was you two."

Pain! Dom leapt to his feet, urging his brother to hear what the target had to say,

but Pilio saw only the scabbed-over divot between Dom's eyes where a black jewel had once rested.

Dom had turned his back on the order. Why? Why had he done this?

The mustachioed man leapt to Dom's defense, snatching his sidearm from beneath his ironwood desk - a foolish mistake.

Ash split into impossible multiples. The man opened fire on the three, before being seized from behind by the fourth.

Ash's illusory clones vanished. The weapon clattered to the polished wooden floor, even as his feet left it, dangling three feet above,

helplesss - those sad, kind eyes locked on Pilio's in a regretful farewell. "Ask the Warframe", Dom said, "He knows exactly why."

Fear filled Pilio's heart. Pilio turned to his idol, that saint of murder. The same question, but this time for Ash: why?

That moment of breathtaking impudence stretched for an eternity. Ash released his grip.

His prisoner flopped to the floor, gasping. With one great hand, Ash reached toward Pilio's face... and sank a vicious talon beneath that midnight jewel.

Pilio screamed. Blood flowed.

The gem flew free with a nauseating pop, cracking against the wall to die in a weak plume of rancid smoke.

Blinding white insight descended upon Pilio DeNas.