• 68 results
  • 1
  • 2
#1 Posted by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

A red sun burned high above, looming like an ember in the night. Although the sun cast light down upon the world, the sky was still dark, stars one by one fading out of sight. Only the enormous, smoldering sun remained. A lowly creature clawed its way across the barren, gravelly wasteland. The sun was relentless on this world, but his kind had adapted over billions of years. It was not the heat that left him groaning in agony as he desperately crawled through the jagged rocks. His rough, tan exoskeleton was the same color as the gravel. The large, overlapping scales were chipped at the edges, frayed and broken and burned. Black fluid gushed out of his abdomen, staining a trail behind him. His bulbous, dark red eyes fluttered as he struggled to retain consciousness.

Finally, the poor soul rolled over on his back. His breaths were fast, desperate to breathe in the dry, lifeless air. He looked warily up into the sky, at the sun that he had seen every day of his life. It's light was relentless. This was the first time he had noticed, but the heat was unbearable. Vapor rose up all around him, distorting the horizon in a wave of faltering reality. For a moment, he shut his eye, and when they opened, a shadow was upon him. It was the imposing shape of his tormentor, an effigy of his horror made real in darkness. As he began to see clearer, he noticed those eyes, those horrible, burning embers of countless souls. Those horrific eyes burned red with the same intensity as the sun they overcast.

"M-mmurderer!" cried the creature in his native tongue. The shadow was unresponsive. It simply bore down on him with those unblinking eyes. "You... you killed them all!" the creature continued.

"No." the shadow replied at long last in a voice that would set even the bravest of foes aquiver, "I gave your world a choice. Not one of you was wise enough to accept, and so, you met the end that all mortals must share. I played only the blameless hand of fate in your destruction."

"I am the last of my species. You have no right to harm me!"

The shadow lay a heavy boot heel on the creature's chest and he groaned in pain. "I do not wish to harm you. One last time, I extend to you my generous offer." the shadow extended a hand to his captive, "Join me. Your people fought well, but even one of my lesser-gods could lay waste to them. Your race is fragile. I offer you immortality."

"And in exchange, I am to forsake my heritage?! The home of which I am the only relic?!" cried the dying alien in spite of the immense weight now crushing his chest.

"It has taken you a single lifetime to bond with your world. I offer countless more to move on, and to call the entire cosmos your home. Entire civilations will crumble under your sight, and they will bow before you." the shadow lowered his head into view, and the darkness fell away, leaving only the grave, stone effigy of a god, "And all I ask is that you bow before me."

"I would sooner die, Dathron!"

"Well, I cannot allow that." said Dathron, "As the last of your kind, you are a rarity. It would be foolish of me to allow you to slip into nothingness. Since you spurred my offer of godhood, you will be my pet. You will be forbidden to die, but your existence will be nothing short of agony." with that, Dathron arose and stepped back from the bleeding vermin at his feet, "Perhaps that will make you regret your insolence."

"You monster! The deaths of my brothers will not be forgotten! Even you can die, Dathron! And even if it takes me a thousand lifetimes, I will discover how to kill you! I swear by the stars in the sky, I will kill you!" the dying alien shouted, dark blood now streaking down the side of his mouth. Two mysterious beings now took to Dathron's sides, each minuscule in stature when likened to him. One wore tattered rags, long covering his head and back, skin as black as ash. The other wore a uniform with pride, an outfit of dark green, trimmed with gold. His head was adorned in a tall hood and his black hair clashed with his pale skin, intricate markings of red engraved in his face. Others gathered behind them. They kept coming in waves until hundreds surrounded Dathron and this lone creature. The alien was overtaken by fear. The eyes of the gods were upon him.

"Krulnak," ordered Dathron, calling the man in the green uniform to attention, "See to it that my new pet's vocal chords are removed. I no longer wish to hear his incessant prattling."

"At once, my liege." Krulnak replied with a bow. Dathron turned from the alien and, at the swipe of his hand, his pantheon parted ways. As he lay his foot forward, the ground trembled and Dathron walked down the row. The lesser-gods fell to their knees in his wake.

The dying creature now looked to Krulnak, who began to smile sadistically as he reached fro the sword at his side. He drew the long, gleaming curved blade and, with a single swipe, the sword began to glow red, spewing black smoke. The alien began to quiver with fear as Krulnak stepped closer, brandishing his burning sword. Krulnak dropped to the aliens side. He took hold of the creature's throat and raised his chin, holding the tip of his blade dangerously close to his neck. "Sit still, now..." said Krulnak, "This will definitely hurt." The poor creature shut his eyes and Krulnak reared back his sword, pausing before the plunge.

Dathron was already far off as bloodcurdling screams erupted in the air, but they were no less clear. He marched up to a woman clad in black armor, her helm under her arm. Her tan skin, flat nose and deep, black eyes were her only features, as her hair had been cut away. Starting at the back of her scalp, long scars ran horizontally in a neat row, all the way down below the neckline of her armor.

"Lord Dathron." she said, putting her fist to her chest and bowing her head in respect. She had no name. She was not allowed one, she could not remember one. She had lived for too long to remember. Dathron had granted her strength and near-eternal life, but she would never be immortal. She would never be a god. Instead, she served as the General of Dathron's legion. She guided his feral beasts in battle and proudly slaughtered millions by her own hand in his name.

"How many times now have you laid eyes on me, mortal?" asked Dathron, keeping his eyes on the horizon as if to not dignify her with his full attention.

"Three hundred and seventeen, my Lord." she replied. Dathron turned his eyes to her and narrowed them, beginning to glow. The General lifted her spaulder and exposed the skin of her arm. The row of scars was there as well, stopping halfway down. Suddenly, a controlled fire burned at the end of the scars, and a line of scorched skin was left there. She lowered her armor and bowed once again and whispered, "Thank you, my Lord." She placed her helmet back on her had. "Where do we go next?" she asked.

"I grow tired of these warrior cultures." Dathron replied, "A world inhabited by beings of less tedious behavior would be best."

"The planet of Daxus Marr would be a change." answered the General.

"I said I grew tired of warrior cultures, I did not say I wanted to conquer a world of cowards devoid of integrity or resistance. Find me a world that is protected."

"There is one defended by loose bands of lone warriors, champions that many natives worship like gods. Some of them are possessing of impressive power."

"Something to be broken. Which world do you speak of?"

"Earth, my Lord, the planet is called Earth."

Dathron thought for a moment, finally saying, "Yes... perhaps the Humans are finally evolved enough to deserve the enlightenment of the Pit." As soon as he spoke, a massive ship of black and red and gray metal appeared above them, dominating the sky. The ground beneath them began to rumble, pebbles rising into the air around the two of them. Suddenly, with a loud crack, a massive piece of the ground broke off and rose into the air, both Dathron and his general standing on this platform. They ascended high above the world and were brought to the top of the enormous ship. They stepped off onto the deck, a dozen miles long. Soldiers, monsters, were positioned in rows. Thousands of them. A mere fraction of the legion. The general waved he sword before them and cracked her whip in the other, crying, "To the grind with you vermin! Prepare the vortex! Set course for Earth!" The soldiers turned on their heels and marched in perfect unison into the bowels of the ship. Moments later, it was receding into the heavens.

Now, high above the decimated planet, the ship waited. There stood Dathron, out on the deck, completely exposed to the vacuum, and yet, he remained unchanged. His long blue cloak drifted behind him in the windless dark. He stood with his foot over the rim. Finally, he raised his hands, his eyes already burning with the Eternal Flame of the Pit. At once, his hands and eyes let sip the power, at full blast. The beam of energy shot right down to the planet, cutting through the clouds and setting the atmosphere aflame. He continued to blast the planet far below. When he was finally done, he turned and walked silently into the ship. There, marking the dead world in an enormous trail of flames, was his symbol. It was carved into the planet and marked this inhospitable rock as under the dominion of Dathron.


The stadium was roaring, the field adorned in the sunlight of a cloudless sky in the hour before noon. The people cheered as players took the field, but within moments, each and every soul in this modern coliseum froze. A column of golden light overtook the field. Into this massive ray slowly faded the menacing image of Dathron, standing almost a hundred feet tall, arms folded behind his back. All over the world, these columns were appearing, and people gathered around them, not sure what to do at this disturbing sight.

"People of Earth," declared the god, "I am Dathron, the one who gazed into Eternity. For millenia, I have scoured the Universe in my mission to spread the Supreme Vision. Countless times, I have been met with hostility, and countless times, I have left worlds in ruin. If you are wise, you will have no need to fear me. I come baring a great gift for those willing to accept it. If you believe that you are worthy of my infinite wisdom, come before me and swear your allegiance. In return, not only will you know what lies beyond reality, you will be given power like you could never imagine, you will have immortality. Simply submit to me and you will become gods."

Suddenly, waves of monstrous soldiers fell from the sky, surrounding the pillars of light. Many of them rode atop enormous, feral beasts or manned awe-inspiring machines of war. People recoiled at this sight as foot soldiers corralled them with prods of the spear. Dathron continued, "If not, you will be gathered for research. And if you are so ignorant as to openly resist me, I have conquered millions of worlds. The odds are not in your favor." with that, the columns of light faded away.

Dathron stood on the deck of the enormous warship. "Transmission complete, my Lord." said a lesser-god clad in flowing robes that concealed his face, "How do you think the Humans will respond?"

"All mortals are the same in their foolishness." Dathron replied, walking to the edge and gazing down at the planet beneath his feet, "As for strength, that will soon be known."

#2 Posted by Major_USA (938 posts) - - Show Bio

9:00 A.M

Major looked in the mirror he was wearing a jersey not his usaul uniform but today he wasnt a hero. Today he was just a normal person because his daughter had came over to visit him from South Africa. He hadnt seen her in a long time and he was hoping to reconnect with with her and he knew that baseball was her favorite sport.

"Well Tom looks like this is your chance." He said to himself as he checked his watch. It was time for him to pick her up from the airport then they were going to the game. As he was on his way put of the house he grabbed his baseball cap and slid it onto his head as he climbed into his car and started it up. On the radio "Hero of War" played and Major left it on as he drove to the airport.

9:45 A.M

Tom stood there waiting for Ashley to come out of the airport. He checked his watch.

"Where is that girl her plane landed 15 min ago."

"Dad!", Tom heard her distinct voice and looked over to the doors. There she was his daughter who he had not really kept up with he even missed her 14th birthday and taking her to the game was kinda a late birthday present. She waved and he waved back she was so happy to see him.

"Hey kiddo nice to see you." Tom said as he went to help her with her bags.

"Hey dad you to whats with the jersey?" , she asked him.

"O not much just got tickets to the ball game for the two of us." he said with a smile as he put her bags in the car.

"No way really awesome whens the game?" Ashley said.

"Well it starts at eleven we better get going.", Tom replied."We can catch up on the way."

The two climbed into the car and Tom gave Ashley his hat. "Here wear this to the game."

Ashley toke it smiling "Thanks dad."

11:00 A.M

The fans roared as the teams toke the field and Tom was heading to the snack bar to get some hot dogs and soda for him and Ashley. "Keep it up Tom your doing great so far." He said to himself. It was a perfect day clear sky and perfect weather. Then the sky went dark and Tom knew something bad was going to happen. Then he saw a yellow light shine and he walked out to see what it was. Inside the light was a being he had never seen before it was monsterous in size and just the sight drew you closer to it. Then it spoke.

"People of Earth," the being said, "I am Dathron, the one who gazed into Eternity. For millenia, I have scoured the Universe in my mission to spread the Supreme Vision. Countless times, I have been met with hostility, and countless times, I have left worlds in ruin. If you are wise, you will have no need to fear me. I come baring a great gift for those willing to accept it. If you believe that you are worthy of my infinite wisdom, come before me and swear your allegiance. In return, not only will you know what lies beyond reality, you will be given power like you could never imagine, you will have immortality. Simply submit to me and you will become gods."

Then they came hordes of creatures with weapons and machines Tom had never seen before they started to move around and move people together like cattle. "If not, you will be gathered for research. And if you are so ignorant as to openly resist me, I have conquered millions of worlds. The odds are not in your favor." then the light was gone. Then Tom heard a cry.

"Dad!" Ashley screamed. Some of he monsters had started to round her up also. Tom ran up and socked one of them in the face and toke Ashley out of there arms."Run." he shouted as more of them came to stop him. Tom kicked the one in front of him then hurled the two holding his arms at eachother. There was no9 way he could fight these creatures without his weapons. At least Ashley was say thats all that mattered now. He turned and ran out of the stadium looked like his normal day was over.

#3 Posted by Soothing_Sounds (1718 posts) - - Show Bio

One of the most peaceful days of his life. That's what Joey thought when he had decided to just chill out for the rest of the day. It wasn't just peaceful either, but overall completely awesome. It had started out with him waking up, feeling dirtier than usual he quickly went to one of the rare bath houses in the neighborhood. Best part was, they were feeling pretty sympathetic, so they let him go in for free. That was the start of it all.

After feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks, Joey decided to go exploring, maybe protect the city a bit. That's the thing though, no crimes, at least none he really cared for. No abuse of women, or even any big fights, just a relaxed day. To make it even better, a brother rastaman was just giving out the Herb. He was dying, and since he had no family he was given the herb to any true rastafarian that had happened to passed by. To top it all off, his friend had told him about a baseball game happening soon, normally Joey wouldn't care, but the man had told him about this spot where he could watch and hear the game for free. It was quite a distance away from the stadium, but it was high up on a hill and Joey had some good eyes. Besides he was going to be doing much today.

So he lit up a blunt, got to the top of hill, started up some Bob Marley and layed back. "Best. day. eva." Joey said to himself. Of course how surprised was he when all of a sudden, a column of light appeared in the stadium with a being of power standing in it. How did Joey know he was a being of power, well the fact that he could make anyone a god was kinda an indication of that. Joey had been considering it too, after all there was nothing wrong with the man as far as he could see. That was until the being, apparently named Dathron, was willing to hurt his people. His people also meant women. Joey wasn't going to be having it. Of course he didn't have a say at the time, as monsters that Dathron commanded were fired upon the people in the stadium, and were starting to spread rapidly.

Joey decided he was going to get to the ship from where the monsters were coming from, whatever was about to harm him and the females, was about to come triple to Dathron. At least Joey thought that way for the time being, when the swarm of monsters got to Joey's location, he just blew them away with some large area sound waves and started to run towards the stadium. This could've been the most chill day ever, now it's just going to be the most action filled. Joey thought to himself, a smile crossing his face. Of course that's not a bad thing, especially while high.

#4 Posted by .Longshot. (5245 posts) - - Show Bio

An aircraft carrier sat adrift on the high seas, under perfect skies. It bore resemblance to an aircraft carrier, but it was subtly distinct. It bore no markings of the U.S. Navy, and instead flew the symbol of the United Nations. Inside the creaking belly of the ship, a platform began to glow bright blue, the light building and building for over a minute, until finally, a man materialized, hunched over, on the platform. He wore a red jacket and gray mask, with a full quiver of arrows slung over his shoulders. As he raised his head, he was met with the barrels of assault rifles.

"Easy, boys..." said Longshot, raising his hands slowly, "I'm a friend of your boss."

A woman in a gray and blue uniform, protected by a kevlar vest and wearing a black beret stood silently on the bridge, arms folded and gazing out on the sea with steely blue eyes and a grim visage. Her blonde hair was cut short above the shoulder. She turned at the sound of her men entering the bridge and saw Longshot standing in the doorway, guns pointed into his back.

"At ease, gentlemen." said with a wave. The soldiers lowered their guns and left the two alone. "Sorry." she stated, "They follow orders to the letter, but they can be dumb as posts sometimes. You gettin' used to teleportation yet?"

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it, Melissa." Longshot replied, "Man's particles were not meant to be scatter-shot across the world. You getting comfortable in the new uniform yet?"

"The promotion has it's advantages. So, what are you here about?"

"You know why I'm here, Hannigan. You run the U.N.'s primary organization on meta-human observation and defense, you have to have seen what's going on out there. There's a thirteen mile long warship in the sky. An alien claiming to be a god broadcast a message telling us to bow down and then deployed his armies all over the world."

"And?" Agent Hannigan posed.

"I want you to show me what you've found so far."

Agent Hannigan glanced to the corners of the room, then stepped closer to the archer and whispered, "You realize that everything you see and hear from this point on officially does not exist."

"Just like ninety percent of the crap I usually see." Longshot shrugged. With that, Hannigan passed and led him down into the belly of the ship.

Far below, in a dark place below the waterline, Longshot and Melissa entered a room with only a single row of lights running down the length. It was a laboratory and the lights cast directly over a row of examining tables. On each table was the hefty, hulking body of a monstrous creature clad in armor and harnesses baring faded golden wings. Their chests were pried open. Hannigan flipped through her clipboard. "These are a couple of the soldiers we've captured. All the technology is alien, that much checks out. As for the race of origin, well, that's where things get interesting... it's not one alien race. It's all of them. Inside, almost none of these things are the same. They seem to have undergone multiple procedures to take on one uniform shape. Here's the kicker, the damn things ain't even alive. They all have an extensive interior life support system. They're just dead husks that are given movement, puppets on strings. So, if you wanna drop your little policy about lethal force and bring some actual firepower to the table, now would be the time."

Longshot stared quietly at the bodies. "That's all we got." said Agent Hannigan, "We're deploying an air strike on the warship in an hour. FA-18 Hornets armed with meta-buster payloads. You're free to join in on the fun."

"No." said Longshot, "We need people on the ground. People are being herded up like cattle, and any of them who've fought have been killed."

"And you're gonna go shoot pointy sticks at them."

"Whatever it takes. That's how it is when lives are at stake."

"I know." said Hannigan as Longshot activated his teleporter, directing it to the receiver platform in New York City. "Hey, Robin Hood..." she whispered, "Good luck."

"You too, Melissa." Longshot replied with a faint smile meant to settle her fears, and his, just before his teleporter carried him away.


Herds of snarling, demonic troops marched through the streets while their accursed brethren patrolled the skies, aloft on flight harnesses. Each pack lead a group of sniveling, frightened, dirt and ash covered people. The occasional prod of the spear delivered a shock and kept the Humans in line. A young boy fell to the ground, unable to carry on. The shadow of a lumbering soldier fell upon him and he gazed up at the gnashing teeth as the infernal beast raised its spear. Suddenly, a blur of black and red swooped down and crashed into the demon's chest.

Longshot caught the spear and smacked another soldier across the face. "Come on!" Longshot ordered, fighting off the soldiers, "These guys may have gotten a million other worlds, but they won't get this one!" He knew that there was a fair chance he was lying to his people, but all he could do now was inspire rebellion.

One by one, the flame of hope ignited within them and the would-be slaves pushed aside their captors and took up their weapons. These were only a few dozen people, completely untrained in combat, but rebellion had to begin somewhere. Already, the reinforcements poured in around them. Longshot instructed the people to form a circle with their spears facing outward. He fired arrows, felling their oncoming enemies, but it soon became clear that they were too many in number. He did everything he could to fight the charging demons before they reached the people, but they quickly piled on and overwhelmed him. He felt their teeth, their immense weight and strength crushing down on him. Suddenly, that same boy broke out of the circle and raised a spear.

Longshot could see from an opening in the mound of flesh that encompassed him as the boy charged bravely to his rescue. "NO!" he screamed, but he was too late and could only watch as a burst of fire overtook the boy and swept his ashes into the air, reducing him to nothing. Fueled by violent rage, Longshot cast off his opponents and beat them until his fists were trembling.

The archer stood there, atop a pile of fallen soldiers. The circle of rebelling Humans were now desperately holding off the onslaughts of the legion. Longshot took up his bow, ready to help, but he was suddenly tackled by another of their despicable kind. The creature carried him off into the sky at breakneck speed, up into the New York skyline. The beast twisted in the air, disorienting its opponent, but Longshot quickly drew an arrow and stabbed it into the flight harness, causing them both to fly out of control. He wrestled out of the demon's grip and fell to a nearby rooftop while the beast was left careening into the side of a building.

The archer patted dust and ash from himself and looked up to the sky. The ship was over them now. It had been gradually migrating around the globe. It cast a shadow over them and made the skies burn red. Only a few minutes now until Hannigan's attack was deployed.

A sinking feeling struck the pit of Longshot's stomach as the clouds parted ways and dozens, no, hundreds of smaller vessels descended upon the Earth, surrounding the master ship. He quickly drew his communicator, not daring to turn his eye from this horrifying sight.

"Hannigan!" he called out, "Hannigan, this is Longshot, do you read me?! Terminate the air strike! Your men are flying into a slaughter! Call it off! NOW!" He heard jet engines screaming through the sky far off, drawing closer. It was too late.

Demonic legionnaires took flight and ripped apart the glass shells of planes, slaughtering the pilots. Others gunned down the advancing soldiers or evaded them, some even managed to destroy one of the many ships of the invading fleet, or at least cause some damage, before they were destroyed. In the end, the attack lasted only a few minutes. Every one of the pilots was dealt with swiftly and without mercy. Longshot simply looked on in horror as fire filled the sky. Dathron's conquest had only just begun.

#5 Posted by Emperor_von_Doom (3120 posts) - - Show Bio

"How in damnation did this happen?" 
Kaligar stared at the holographic projection of Earth. Every centimeter of its atmosphere was clogged with starships belonging to a creature of unimaginable hatred. His very nature was to conquer, every sense of compassion and pleasure lost to the sense of dominating planets and subjugating people. He offered godhood. What he gave was slavery. Kaligar had observed Dathron's conquest along the far-eastern fringe of the galaxy as he ripped through the home-worlds of several species of mercenaries employed to the Tau Empire. Though Dathron came from another galaxy besides, his presence could not be ignored - especially now. He had dared to insult the Symaarian Imperium by not only bypassing the defensive membrane of fortress-worlds surrounding Earth, but by attacking the prize of countless alien invasions itself.  
Perhaps it was the allure of humanity that drew so many warlords and would-be gods to try and take it. Humans made ideal slaves and sacrifices once they were broken. Their unique genetic structure provided boundless genetic experimental opportunities. Their planet was comprised mostly of water, a resource highly prized in vast invasion fleets. They were also sickeningly curious and fickle. If an alien race touched down, more often than not the humans who enjoyed their presence were astounded rather than horrified. Their incompetence would then offer the invaders a chance to play on their ignorance. Dathron played no such games. He wanted humanity for the simple purpose of turning some of them into his own mindless puppets, much like the various "gods" he claimed to have modified and given rise to.  
Pathetic. Godhood belonged to the Allfather and the Allfather alone. Any other deity swathed himself in lies until he believed in his own immortality. Dathron would soon be humbled. Kaligar turned a halfhearted smirk at his wife, Azrael, and knew that no words could satisfy the blood-lust they shared. Without further delay, Kaligar called to him his most skilled pilot and boarded his personal Thunderhawk with Azrael as well as the enormous Stormwolf twins Fengir and Hrothgar. Bursting through cloud cover, Kaligar left his icy home-world of Ferravius in exchange for the mysterious webways of the Warp as the pilot in charge of commanding his vessel opened a portal into the vale of unreality. Disappearing, the Thunderhawk would emerge within mere miles of Earth a split second later, its target destination: New York City.  

A lone vessel burned through the atmosphere, blasting a pathway through Dathron's legion and evading incoming fire to the best of the pilot's capabilities. It bore the sigil of the Doom Wolves emblazoned upon its blue-grey hull trimmed with yellow. Top speed was achieved. The windshield became red with the collective blood of the legionnaires it smashed into - the sky was clogged with them. Finally, it burst through the swarm and spied open land. To the horror of the crew inside, nothing seemed unscathed by the alien emperor's disastrous touch. Armed forces were laid bare and dead. Groups of citizens were cut to ribbons in the streets while others ran, forsaking common brotherhood for personal safety. No resistance, just slaughter.  
As the Thunderhawk swooped down, Kaligar, flanked ever by Azrael and his massive Stormwolf companions Fengir and Hrothgar, descended from its guts. Runesworn glowed hungrily in his hands as he hefted it to bear with both with hilt to spare. Roaring his defiance in the voice of the Stormwolves common to his home-world. The twins by his side took up the howl, further challenging the legionnaires. Though it was not many who answered his call - but one. A lieutenant and marshal of the host, a man with scars across his body labeling him a veteran. Kaligar leveled Runesworn in his direction. He replied with a cold glare and a bloodied mace of vicious intent leveled in his. They accepted each other's challenge quickly.  
Runesworn bit down against the surface of the mace, breaking the material with the fury of its power field. The lieutenant stumbled back as his legs gave way under Kaligar's ferocious strength, though his reflexes did little to completely carry him from harm. The Wolf King lunged forward, clamping down on the lieutenant's throat with his diamond-hard teeth. Piercing flesh and jugular, Kaligar whipped his prey around until he tore a chunk from his neck before spitting it out. Sent flying, the lieutenant came crashing down in the midst of the horde he led. Barely alive, his body expanded as an inner light exploded from his orifices. Offering his energy to a higher power - no doubt this Dathron fellow - the expired creature crumbled to dust. The taste of blood in Kaligar's mouth remained, however, and he reveled in the sensation of a god's ichor like a sweet wine.  
It was then that the vast majority of the legion began their attack, despite the loss of their apparent leader. Perhaps he was only a figurehead, one that had been a focal point of Dathron's conscience. Without him, Dathron had to work just a little bit harder to enforce his will over the legion. Fengir was the first to claim one of the alien abominations by biting the urchin's head clean from its roots. When Hrothgar entered the fray, he bit into the torso of one of the monsters. Though he inflicted a wound that would have easily killed even an Ork Nob, Hrothgar looked on confused as the alien climbed back to its feet and stalked towards the Stormwolf once more. Kaligar howled and Runesworn consumed three necks at once, sending the heads once belonging to them elsewhere.  
They shared a wolfish grin and set about their grim and bloody business, four wolves against a pack of thousands and more filtering in from above. Kaligar gave a joyful roar, knowing the Navigator had blessed him and his family with such favorable odds. 

#6 Posted by Ravek (2937 posts) - - Show Bio

Keresh Fleet In Orbit Over Mars

In orbit above the so called "Red Planet" of Mars sat a small force of eighteen Keresh warships of varying size. It was a routine stop over in the system to resupply the small outpost on the surface, Ravek stood on the bridge, watching the as the last supply ship returned from the surface, docking with it's mothership, a massive assault ship that had recently joined the fleet. It had been a uncommonly peaceful patrol, this part of the galaxy held very few advanced races and was usually a haven for enemy fleets to hide or pirates to establish bases, but with the Keresh presence increasing the scum of the universe had for the most part, departed this and the surrounding systems. 
"All systems normal sir" called one of the ships crewman to Ravek from his workstation "Supply ships have returned and we can depart the system whenever your ready"
"Prep the fleet to jump the-" The fist of the Keresh was interrupted by the sudden activation of an alarm that began to reverberate throughout the ship. Before he even had to ask someone called out from across the bridge "Unknown Contacts Sir! Headed for Earth, there must be thousands of them..." 
"An Invasion force no doubt" he said to himself. Normally he wouldn't interfere in another species conquest, but the humans had proven somewhat useful in the past... more importantly, the woman he loved was on that world. 
"Have they made any attempt to communicate with us or the Humans? They must know we're here..." 
The communications officer listened closely for a moment then turned back to his commander. "The message repeats sir, some nonsense about joining some legion or join the dead. Seems like this force is lead by some self proclaimed god named... Dathron?"
"God huh? Full speed to Earth's planetary orbit, prepare all weapons to open fire immediately once we arrive, sound the ready alarm and have the infantry and fighter squadrons ready to deploy immediately. I'll lead the Vanguard down myself." 
There was no arguing with him, they all knew Ravek would be the first into the fight so the crewmen went to work preparing for the coming battle.

Earth, Unidentified Human City

The Keresh ships, being more maneuverable had easily decimated a large number of the enemy vessels but more seemed to appear to replace those lost. The small force continued to engage the massive invasion, fighting valiantly, taking out scores of enemy ships but their numbers seemed to be endless, a message had already been sent to Keresh Fleet Command on the Keresh homeworld and reinforcements were inbound but it would take time. 
Ravek's troops were inflicting heavy casualties on the so called Gods soldiers but like their ships their seemed to be an endless supply of the damnable things. The expertly trained killers of the Keresh Infantry were not without there own casualties, quickly they reverted back to using the same tactics they'd employed against Kaligar's Symaarians when they'd been at war with them, adapting to the new threat. 
Ravek crouched behind cover, methodically reloading his Vanguard Assault Rifle, his personal squad of 14 commandos laid down heavy fire on the charging hordes of various alien races. Ravek walked around the corner and switched his weapon to semi-automatic and began engaging targets one on one, each time he pulled the trigger a creature fell. Finally the suicidal charge brought the horde right up to the Keresh Commandos positions. The distinctive sound of blades being unsheathed was audible to anyone nearby but soon lost in the aliens unified roar. 
The fight quickly became a bloody melee, Ravek was rushed by a group of the beings and leveled his wrist mounted flamethrower, setting them ablaze, one managed to fight through the pain and take hold of his wrist. Ravek smirked behind his visor and leveled his pistol, firing point blank at the aliens face, causing the monstrosity to fall limply to the floor. After half an hour of brutal fighting it was over, the last of the alien soldiers fell to the blood soaked ground. Reinforcements would surely be on their way so the group of armor clad warriors continued through the ruins, keeping off the streets. 
Above them Keresh fighters and gunships engaged the winged creatures that seemed to constitute the majority of the invaders air power. Ravek climbed a stairwell to the roof of a damaged building and surveyed the surrounding area. Fighting was happening all around him. Keresh and Human forces were fighting the attackers as far as the eye could see. Suddenly an ear splitting howl reverberated throughout the cityscape and Ravek looked off in the direction that it originated from. His visor automatically zeroed in on the source and Ravek couldn't help but smirk. "Kaligar..."
The Keresh Commandos activated their jetpacks and rocketed off towards the Symaarians position, Dathron wouldn't know what hit him once the two linked up.
#7 Posted by 614azrael (10306 posts) - - Show Bio

Pryor to Invasion

Serenity entered the room with Evie at her side. Azrael missed Erebus he was one of her closest friends when around. Now though he was missing on the plus side his adopted daughter was a marvel. She was a product of human enginering that was unparalel to anything Azra knew of. And after adding Overkill's abilities to her collective that god like status was even more apparent. The extensive force in abilities however was just the start of what made her special. It was not her build that was designed to look more like a game character or comic than human and thus intoxicate the mind. It was her genius, Evie was a scientist who made imortality a thing to purchase. This project was crushed and she simply took it as an opening for another scheme. Brilliant was the beautiful figure and Azra had plans to put her to use as a way to make up for the harm inflicted upon her forces in the previous conflict with her family on the world where Kaligar and herself were wed.

The Wings of Death had gone through an etensive process to make them near the same scale as other chapters of the Symarrian empire. This was bound to the warp and using it to shift time for Serenity and the others. A rigourous project that was just obliterated by Aldeon and the civil war he invoked.  The sisters took time to moarn for the loss a single day then went back to rebuilding. This was not to be there end, a new chapter would be made instead. The Spine Eaters, a name in memberance of Aldeon's fall was to be formulated. Teres Morba was a distant world that in this time line was one to be claimed early on. This strong mental race would be a forfront in the technology likely of Darthron. Or perhaps they were not special at all just another race dominated. Whatever the case the race still existed, in an event fracturing the fabric of time Alezra Bloodhusk ventured into this world. In a grueling fight Azrael claimed the womans life and asimilated with her counterpart. As such the species was adopted into the fleet, as of yet though they had been a secretive reserve but no longer would that be.

Wielders of the Kataras Plasmis an energy based sword the species became known in there time as ruthless fighters who bothered with guns seldom on ground. A fog of war fell upon the masses they fought. Then from this mist came the lethal Plasmis that butched men by the dozens. This is where the corpse of Yssgralmor and the gene seed of Serenity come into play. The chosen of the god Khorne adn the chosen avatar of the Navigator in the final acts of the war would be enterwoven. The gene seed of the Navigator was a cursed thing but the one of Ren was not only strong but natural. This mix cloned and the genes of the two would be inprinted in the head tailed culture of Teres. A highbrid to be formulated, and Evie was to execute the process.

Into the Inferno

Evie, Serenity and the Teres were somewhere in TI finishing the touches. Meanwhile Alezra was beside her husband. Blood splashed across the windshield and hull as drones were pummeled by the incoming craft and heavy gun fire it rained down. Once land was spoted there was another heavy burden on most the small crew. Buildings a flame streets cracked from heavy feet and gunfire. What little resistance there was seemed to fail for what good is a man with a wrench against a gods army. The slaughter was beautiful but the person behind it was so distastefull.

There was no sport just slaughter, this was of course tolerable but in conquoring a world she would love to get the forces involved to test ones might. Worse than this was the "god" who ran the show. Darthron a figure who seamingly sat on his over zelous hide and let the masses fight for him. Az could hardly stand when it hapend with friends and family on a strategic field. Let alone here where there was no major aparent threat for most the forces. No warior spirit meant no reason to follow. Darthron was like so many patheons in existance, he sat on his high horse and barked orders at his slaves. They devoted their life to him and hurled them into crossfire and left it at that. If one can not lead then why should others follow, he was missery seeking company. Of course the company would long for more and that more wants everyone else. But in the end all the accension brings is hell to others on all fields. Unworthy of his grand strength Azrael sought to bring the falsified imortal to his knees swiming with in his own blood.

The enemy was vast and their strength was admirable. She was a warior she could admit in a fair fight they were unparalel. In a fight where they had the upper hand, which was most cases they were brutal. In the here and now though it was only a matter of time, Azrael had gone out of her way to become a goddess of chaos, the first to replace the eons old warp lordds. She had taken the steps to become an elemental of all natural forms. Then first and foremost she lived for the field of war. Born of Death she was only ever feeling alive when she brought about ruin upon the world. And so her blades sang to her music blasting through her ears syncronizing with the bloodshed and symphony of oblivion. Where bodies fell in mass torned asunder bone shatering like glass. Soon Evie and the new Spine Eaters would join the fray. At the moment resistance was scattered at best. Even with the fortitude of those rebeling it would be only a matter of time before there was simply to many to hold off. They needed to rally and coordinate.

From a distance she could see the flames of jet backs almost like miniture stars do to the armor also worn. It was a bit dificult to make out from such distance atleast the details but enough was clear for her to know who they were. Ravek and the Keresh, undoubtably the resisting fighting heard came mostly from them. It was also safe to conclude that even though the city was being over run the strong warior thought himself some grand bad ass because he killed all the uglies in  a city block. As the small group of Keresh, Kaligar, the twins and the crimson haired fem fatal gathered she couldn't help but shake her head. Perhaps she was underestimating him but she sincerely doubted he could contend with the building forces. Even gods could fall and there would surely be more to contend with the conquorer than just those present now.

#8 Posted by Rot (309 posts) - - Show Bio

Rot had barely escaped, the doctor’s bounds had been strong, immune to Rot’s abilities, and even now most of his body was incased in armor that was likewise immune. But he had escaped and now he had made it to the stadium, all it took was killing a guard or two. So many people to kill, so much death to bring, now was Rot’s chance. And yet he didn’t stand much of a change, he could barely use his power thanks to the armor and surely some hero would come and stop him. His dream of a dead world was all but doomed. If Rot were a religious man he would have prayed, he would have asked God to help him save the world, but prayer or not, a God didn’t answer Rot. If you believe that you are worthy of my infinite wisdom, come before me and swear your allegiance. In return, not only will you know what lies beyond reality, you will be given power like you could never imagine, you will have immortality. Simply submit to me and you will become gods." Rot gazed up at the giant figure that spoke and he smiled for the first time in ages. “Power…”

Sparks began to fly as the signal was released, Rot’s new hostage had barely been able to make the transceiver work, but luckily for Rot the man was an electrician of some sort. Before Rot could kill the hostage the ground began to shake and the ground below Rot rose up. Rot screamed in horror as the ground flew off to Dathron’s throne room. Soon he found himself in front of the towering dark god. He was silent for a moment before making his demand. “Power…I give me power!” Rot yelled, like a demanding child. Dathron gave Rot a bored glare. “I will give you all the power you desire, little creature, but first, you must show to me that you are worthy. Not just of the power, but of the knowledge that lies beyond reality. Why should I not destroy you where you stand? Why do you deserve Godhood?” The God spoke calmly, as if Rot’s life was nothing to him, and it surely was. Rot was silent. He couldn’t think of a way to prove his worth, he was weakened, barely able to use his powers, and no match for a God. But then again, he didn’t care. Rot jumped at Dathron, desperately trying to active his death touch on the dark god. If Rot wasn’t given power he’d take it, he’d steal it after killing the gods themselves or he’d die trying. Rot’s hand pressed against Dathron’s chest and…nothing. “Pitiful.” Dathron said, as he calmly swatted Rot across the room. Darthron stood up and walked towards Rot. “However, your fearlessness and determination is admirable. And your lust for power is endearing.” His eyes began to glow as he glared at Rot. “ Still, to gain a place in my Pantheon, you must learn loyalty.” Rot felt scorching heat Dathron’s emblem was burned into his forehead. And thus, was the God of Death born a to chorus of Rot’s screams of pain.

#9 Posted by Sideslash (5949 posts) - - Show Bio

Archeron grinned like a madman. He had been right! Even now, a ship hung over the planet known as Earth, and any moment now, the first contact would be made. Perhaps an offer to share technology, to help eliminate disease, or something like that. A loud voice boomed all over the planet as the billionaire waited with bated breath. "People of Earth. I am Dathron, the one who gazed into Eternity. For millenia I have scoured the Universe in my mission to spread the Supreme Vision. Countless times I have met hostility, and countless times, I have left worlds in ruin." Ah. Maybe Archeron had been a bit off on his prediction. How come the crazy warlords with delusions of greatness always found this insignificant little rock? "If you are wise, you will have no need to fear me. I come bearing a great gift for those willing to accept it. If you believe that you are worthy of my infinite wisdom, come before and swear your allegiance. In return, not only will you know what lies beyond reality, you will be given power you like you could never imagine, you will be immortal. Simply submit to me, and you will become gods."

"Translation: Be my puppets, and you won't die." Archeron growled at the disembodied voice. "NOT HAPPENIN', PAL!" He yelled, already running towards the cave. He jumped into the elevator and slid down into his hideout, still the words of the self-proclaimed god reached his ears.

"If not, you will be gathered for research." Archeron's eyes burned with rage. "And if you are so ignorant as to openly resist me, I have conquered millions of worlds. The odds are not in your favour." Archeron powered up his armour, switched it from safety mode to "live", and took off, the jets in his feet propelling him at Mach 5 towards the nearest city, Los Angeles, that was a mere 10 miles from the house.

Los Angeles

He'd arrived just in time for the first wave of Dathron's soldiers. The gatling gun on his shoulder whirred warningly. "Get. The F#ck. Out. Of. My. City!" The words were spoken slowly and deliberately, the final one a yell of anger. The group of soldiers advanced. "Warned you." The gatling gun spat out a long spray of rounds, splattering against the lines of Dathron's soldiers, nd Archeron raised his arms as the gatling gun died down. A few soldiers were down, many more stared at him, unimpressed.

"All you got?" One asked, a chuckle rising from the massed alien army.

"Hardly." Archeron fired both massive guns at the same time, one rocket slamming into the chest of a soldier, the other flying upwards and striking a large skyscraper. The falling debris crushed the small group. "That's just a warmup. You should see what I have planned for your boss."

#10 Posted by Syapt (263 posts) - - Show Bio

A cloud of red crosses the board, the vacant fields leading up to the central city under attack. A crimson mist aproaching the city that has become the central point of attack. The Teres species left in this universe forever changed yet in a great elaborate way. Stronger and faster than before though armor still lighter than the common marine it can take far more than atleast earthly forces. More important the mist colored form allowed to heal most nonlethal wounds. That and plasmic weaponry served to give them a strong upperhand in many fights. A large swarm of these crimsoned skined woman charged forward. Thick black tattoos showing where ever armor wasn't pressent. Leading them of course was Syapt. Most knew her as just another pretty scientist, they labeled her a Science Branch rival and called it good.

Serenity had wanted to take apart of this war but Symar was still teatering on the edge she had to get back to her people. So clad in black and silver armor Evie took her place at the head, it was fair as she did make them. Ren had reason to care though after all the gene seed most prominant was her own. She was born with qualities of a marine from birth the seed closest to a true close match not tainted or repetivly used was her own. Evie cleared her mind, she tended to think way to much.. From what she was seeing now this fight wasn't going to be easy the numbers were just beyond fathom. Sure they had some power houses in play but were five knights that helpfull if the enemy had twenty pawns? This was not imposible not by a longshot they simply had to be smart about what paths they took.

Looking to the head tailed crimson ghosts behind her she smiled. "Know what I hate about these god types? They rarely fought for their given glory, see Azrael shes labeled a goddess she fights on the lines with her husband. A man who is just as highly regarded by his people as a god or chosen figure of the Navigator. Longshot I believe is somewhere out there encouraging civilians to keep going. Some of these people might not even care for these humans and yet they fight. A god is nobody if he can't so much as back his own followers. Simply put this Darthron bores e and should bore you. From here I can sence a taste of his impresive power. He truely is a god, his powers can be leached however and hes just barking orders and riding a high horse. Im here despite my large list of powers, I helped make you and I fight beside you. Meanwhile Darthron sits on a throne and smiles as his children die." These people now would follow her without hesitation because of who she was. It was time to give them a reason why.

The legion was aproaching the mass blocked out the streets they were innumerable. The weapons and technology spoke of thousands of races. Spoke of a thousand technical theories and a thousand dreams of conquest. The creatures that wore these weapons and armor were indistinguishable. All singularity was lost to conformity they were all mostly the same robed of dignity and creative factors. Evie had one faulter she really knew of and that as a artifice, a being not truthfully comeing into the this world by nature creating was hard for her. She was not a song writer or artist an idealist byt not like most sentient creatures. The one thing she wanted and was denied this self proclaimed god was taking. The creatures probablly wanted death and even if not it was beter for them. The Spine Eaters stayed in a ghost like state as Evie raised her hand. The action more than she should of used simply to help call out the mighty godlike individual. It came with a singular snap of the finger but the entire city block fealt it. A nuclear gravitational blast that leveled everything in the small square. Part heated gravity like that her recent love entrest Overkill used and part atomic bomb it was effective at obliteration.

As the debree stoped raining down and smoke began to clear the Spine Eaters lashed out the alien wariors begining to fight the aproaching Legion troops which could easily replace the gap. The woman who labeled herself the Avatar of Evolution had just staked her role in the growing conflict. The new Symarian forces died and Legion troops died the battles up close and frantic. They would try and make there way to where she was pretty sure she had seen Longshot and Major. Hopefully others would be trying to get the resistance groups together as a singular unit. Scattered gorilla tactics would do nothing for them. It would be like seting a small fire cracker near an ant hills tunel, that would do nothing. If you placed the same explosion though in the hill the results were far grander.

#11 Posted by _OMEGA_ (71 posts) - - Show Bio

“No ways brah. That chick’s been with everybody… I hear she even flirted with that new girl.”

OMEGA’s confused frown deepened to a scowl. Valentine’s Day was right around the corner, and he still wasn’t sure if he was going to tell the infatuation of his life that he liked her… He had faced off against continent sized freak shows, had valiantly wrestled volcano alligator men, and he even had some of the mighty Chuck Norris’ DNA in his genetic structure… Yet there was one thing that even he feared…


A friend of his had sat down with him to discuss the conflicting situation, but so far, he hadn’t helped much to settle the doubts that had been slowly sprouting through OMEGA’s once iron-willed mind. The test-tube teenager’s forehead creased in frustrated concentration. Why did love have to be so hard? It was like no foe he had ever encountered. He wondered if his recently acquired insecurity had been caused by the sudden explosion of acne across his chin. With these depressing yet intricately concentrated upon thoughts drifting through his head, he absent mindedly twirled some hair between his fingertips, a habit that he had had for a while now.

“You don’t know if that’s true. People spread rumours.”

OMEGA’s reply was accompanied by a distasteful narrowing of his eyes. It looked as if his friend was about to respond when a sudden tremor passed through the school grounds, a vicious breeze disturbing the chilled out homies. Hundreds of miles away, Dathron had descended upon the baseball stadium. To the rest of the school this was just tornado weather, a commodity around these parts. But to OMEGA, the sound of Dathron’s malicious voice was as clear as day, and the sound of his attack even more so. OMEGA’s friend had barely opened his mouth to talk before the teenaged hero had leapt into the sky, the ground rippling at his hasty take-off. He tore through the sky, shaming jets all around the world with his incredible speed. His posh tie fluttering across his face, he had no choice but to tear it from his neck, simultaneously emitting a plasmic energy silhouette, so as to incinerate the rest of his school uniform. He could have increased his flight speed so that it just tore off by itself, but the energy emitting trick was something he had learnt how to use recently, and man was it bad-ass. He grinned broadly for a moment, before retaining a serious, superhero look. Just like he had seen many of the world’s greatest hero’s do before. Unfortunately, on his young, pimpled face, it looked more like a pained grimace.

The closer he got to the colossal warship, the lower his impulsive bravado sank. He was completely terrified at the amount of otherworldly creatures soaring through the skies, massacring the helpless spectators below. He came to a halt a few miles away from the stadium, scanning his eyes across the scene. He was frozen in indecision and fear.

“Maybe if we all play dead they’ll leave us alone?..”

The stupid sentence was directed at nobody, it was just so that the sound of his voice could comfort him. Still trying dearly to get a hold of his bearings, the sudden and unjustly dirty attack from behind almost escaped his radar of awareness. A creature three times his size had snuck up on him, playing on his moment of confusion and anxiety. It struck, aiming to cleave the boy in half with its disturbingly sharp blades. OMEGA, shocked at the suddenness of the situation, was unable to defend himself, so he just covered his face and squealed like a little girl. He felt something brush against his torso and opened a single eye, peeping out through his fingers. The alien floated opposite him, staring in wild bewilderment at the bent blades it held in its grotesque paws.

“Hah. Chump.”

His confidence boosted by his apparent invincibility, his leg blurred amazingly as it thrust out at the creature’s chest, striking him full-on. The alien didn’t have time to try and evade the attack, a large hole appearing across his torso. A roar of pain and the creature fell.

OMEGA rotated in mid-air, licking his lips excitedly, fists clenching and unclenching. His eyes flashed dark crimson and a shell of pure energy slowly formed around him.

“I can do this.”

#12 Edited by Lord_Johnathan (3303 posts) - - Show Bio

Temple Prime: Sarajevo.

From within the inner depths of their ebony sanctum in the depths of Dark Glass infested yugoslavia, the Triad of the Black Hand convened to discuss matters of great importance. The winged Nightgaunt Nexatos, the religious leader, the Armor clad Kargoth, the military commander, and the decaying archlich necromancer Vrakmul, the political head. Three of the most influential beings in the entire universe, and to those who know of them, three of the most feared.

The three sat at a black triangular round table, with each leader sitting at his own corner. "And so it has come to pass...the augeries have been confirmed....Dathron has come..." Said Nexatos, fidgeting somewhat in his seat, his wings beating softly. "Indeed...as you know, we cannot allow this world to slip out of our grasp in order for the summoning to succeed. We will need to put an end to this...petty tyrant's delusions of grandeur. " Vrakmul agreed, his rasping voice cold and icy.

"I will give the word for the Black Hand cells around the world to begin counter attack operations...I also suggest that we...personally involve ourselves in this conflict....I long to test my mettle against a worthy opponent." Kargoth added, shaking his bony head in agreement. "One of us would need to remain behind to continue to coordinate...." Vrakmul ponted out to the Death Knight who scratched his mail hidden chinbone. "I vote Nexatos..." Kargoth said, rapidly tapping his fingers on his desk.

"Actually...I believe I shall attend this matter...personally..." Vrakmul responded, a grin stretching itself on his mummified face. "If you want..." Kargoth responded as Vrakmul stood out of his seat and turned to the viewscreen, as the Transmission would be broadcasted soon enough. Vrakmul was interested in what this deluded fool had to say, so he paid close attention to make note of this new enemy.

"People of Earth, I am Dathron, the one who gazed into Eternity. For millenia, I have scoured the Universe in my mission to spread the Supreme Vision. Countless times, I have been met with hostility, and countless times, I have left worlds in ruin. If you are wise, you will have no need to fear me. I come baring a great gift for those willing to accept it. If you believe that you are worthy of my infinite wisdom, come before me and swear your allegiance. In return, not only will you know what lies beyond reality, you will be given power like you could never imagine, you will have immortality. Simply submit to me and you will become gods. If not, you will be gathered for research. And if you are so ignorant as to openly resist me, I have conquered millions of worlds. The odds are not in your favor." The transmission blared.

"Hah...he truly believes he has reached omnipotence...he truly believes that we would be impressed by his affairs in a single universe...It will be interesting to break this vermin...Show him what is truly coming for his pathetic reality..." Vrakmul chuckled out, his voice sounding rather like glass scraping against rock. With that, Vrakmul disappeared in Green flame, teleporting to a prominent black hand battle zone.

In the streets of Chicago; a once grand city laid to waste by the Black hand, the aliens came expecting easy conquest. What they got was an entire region held by perhaps the most advanced power on earth. Strange alien creatures descended; only to be met with a hellstorm of anti-aircraft fire with every weapon from the humble bullet to the mighty supercharged particle cannon. Countless of the foe were blown out of the skies before they ever touched the ground.

Those who did manage to land were met with a devastating hail of fire from garrisonned troopers and vehicles. A series of praying mantis like aliens confusedly scurried around, trying to discern where the enemy was coming from, but a series of Devil's Tongues, flame tanks capable of burrowing through the earth, emerged from the ground below and laid their box like frames before the aliens as they unleashed black tongues of purifying flames; incinerating the whole lot of them.

Stealth units constantly popped in and out of visibility as they took potshots and created running ambushes all over the great lakes regions. The advancement of Black hand Cloaking technology was without equal in the universe, allowing for devastating hit and run raids as well as devastating ambushes that slaughtered the invaders in their droves. But still, the Aliens had weight of numbers on their side. While the Black Hand operated all over this universe, it would take some time for the extraterrestrial Black hand cells to arrive to provide reinforcements.

And honestly, Vrakmul did not like the idea of playing his trump card of extraterrestrial forces before he believed it was necessary. Because he knew something he was certain Dathron didn't, the Earth is virtually impossible to conquer. Before Dathron; the mighty Fel Imperium; an empire that stretched across entire multiverses, invaded the Universe and the Earth in the course of a bloody two year long war. While it was ultimately the fall of the incarnates with their deposing; an scheme engineered by the Outer gods and Warp Gods, that lead to the end of the invasion, the Earth gave them a very bloody nose despite the Fel Imperium's vastly superior numbers and technology.

Alien invaders on the other hand, were relatively much easier to throw off this planet, due to the ludicrous density of extremely powerful beings, organizations, and objects that either were on or took interest in the world. It would be too easy to simply let the heroes inevitably overcome and defeat Dathron; shattering the legion, no Vrakmul had to teach this being a painful lesson in humility. He would learn what becomes of petty tyrants who try to oppose the emissary of the Icon.

Stepping through the street and walking over the corpses of a dozen black hand acolytes and over a hundred reptillian aliens, Vrakmul looked as a heterogenous horde of all kinds of aliens barreled down the street at him, howling in the war cries of a thousand languages, marching with the thunder of a million feet, fighting with the tactics of ten thousand armies. In other words, a disorderly, tightly packed, ill disciplined, uncoordinated horde of hooligans all bent on trying to curry favor with the master.


Vrakmul pointed his dread staff at the group and spoke a few words of Arcane power, releasing a cascade of ten foot wide flaming rocks that exploded into forty foot wide balls of intensely hot flames after flying towards their foes at supersonic speeds. A meteor swarm in other words, a favored spell of Vrakmul. The lich's rotted mouth grinned as thousands were engulfed in fire and bowled over by enormous rocks, leaving ashes in their wake.

When the next wave came, Vrakmul spoke into a commlink, prompting a battery of Specter Artillery units to uncloak and fire on the position a hundred meters to his north. For a moment there was no sound except the baying horde and distant combat. Then came a rain of massive artillery shells that pummeled the ground from afar, fired by cloaking device equipped artillery units dozens of miles away. Each of the shells were as heavy as a black bear, and each impacted with terrifying speed before exploding into a cacaphony of death.

Many of the shells were airburst rounds, designed to explode over the horde's head and slaughter them with a spray of superheated shrapnel, fire, and concussive blast waves, others were groundpounders, that would explode in the ground and blow apart the incoming forces, in addition to flattening more heavily armored targets. In a beautiful symphony of fireballs and thunderous explosions, the body parts of countless were sprayed all over the street of Chicago Vrakmul was standing in.

With a chuckle and a grin, Vrakmul went on; ignoring the dead from both the Black Hand and the Legion as they fought all over the world. Those who stood in his way, were made example of. A circuit board like tank had the gall and audacity to point it's main gun at the Lich lord. But Vrakmul did not even bother to turn to face the vehicle, he merely outstretched his left hand and extended his index finger before firing a thin green ray of disintegration.

The vehicle flashed yellow for a bit before it completely crumbled into ash that blew away in the next strong chicago wind. As Vrakmul walked he slammed the tip of his staff into the ground, animating corpses all around him with a dark wave of vile necromatic magic, turning them into dreadful forms of undead who served Vrakmul and Vrakmul alone. With a devious sort of glee; Vrakmul had them rejoin the fight, on his side. Drawing upon a deep knowledge of previous alien invasions, Vrakmul determined that the focal point and heaviest fighting would be in new york city. And with the collabrative effort of a personal cabal of powerful liches underneath him, Vrakmul teleported himself, an contingent of the undead, and a large number of the Black hand, who joined Black hand Cells already in the middle of combat.

In the heart of the big apple, one of the most epic wars in the entire history of the Earth was being waged, and Vrakmul was leading forth his own mighty host to assert his own goals and dominance. The Black Hand proved once again to be a terrifyingly effective combat force, efficiently slicing through resistance with favorable casaulty ratios, of course; to an army so fond of necromancy, most any casualties were favorable...they all joined his side in the end. Kargoth had joined him, howling praises to the Icon while Nexatos corrupted his foes with bits of the essence of the Icon into new soldiers...Vrakmul had said for the rest of the Triad to remain at the base...but he supposed that the New L.E.G.I.O.N A.I would be able to take over command and control. Turning to the task at hand, Vrakmul advanced with his vast army behind him. Oh yes, Dathron had best be ready...Vrakmul was coming.


Los Angeles:

Having been deployed to the Crusader Cell in the Region, Johnathan was standing on top of a Catholic Cathedral, admiring the city from the view he could get from here. "Wow...it's so...big..." Johnathan muttered, amazed at how Los Angeles could both be the largest city in the world by area, but still be quite far from the largest in terms in the population. It was one of those few cities where on paper; it wouldn't seem to be really crowded.

The teenaged saint flexed his suit's clockwork wings a bit as he took in the wonderful sight before him, sighing contently. He had recently foiled a Mediterranean Syndicate plot to crash the property values of most of the city; which would have allowed the amoral megacorporation conglomerate to buy up the rest of the city and add it to their ugly sprawl. Ugh...just looking at the Los Angeles sprawl made Johnathan sick.

The Sprawl was best described as...cyberpunk...and dystopic. Featuring incredibly advanced technology, the place also showed just what can go wrong when one takes Lassiez-Faire and runs with it. Crime was only meaningful if it damaged business operations in the sprawl; which was designed like a enormous sort of terrace pyramid, with the poor on the bottom and the wealthy living higher up. Any official investigations were simply bought off, and the Syndicate's technology allowed them to deal with most superheroes that tried to bust their operation.

But still, for now the Syndicate would be stuck to it's overcrowded hive of capitalism gone horribly wrong as far as Los Angeles was concerned. Oh there were other sprawls in America to be sure, but the Greco-Roman worshipping Syndicate at the moment wouldn't be engaging in any national hostile takeovers anytime soon. But soon, something more alarming than some Vampire Cabal led Megacorporation reared it's ugly head before the young reincarnation of John the baptist.

A pillar of light formed...but obviously not one of divine origins...no, it was the precedent for an enormous hologram of an Alien warlord. "People of Earth," declared the creature...already John didn't like him, he sounded like a pompous wind bag. "I am Dathron, the one who gazed into Eternity. For millenia, I have scoured the Universe in my mission to spread the Supreme Vision. Countless times, I have been met with hostility, and countless times, I have left worlds in ruin. If you are wise, you will have no need to fear me. I come baring a great gift for those willing to accept it. If you believe that you are worthy of my infinite wisdom, come before me and swear your allegiance. In return, not only will you know what lies beyond reality, you will be given power like you could never imagine, you will have immortality. Simply submit to me and you will become gods." What a fool! Godhood is the realm of the Navigator, any other being is merely an immortal with enough power to delude others.

But as soon as he finished the first half of his pompous speech; waves of monstrous soldiers fell from the sky, surrounding the pillars of light. Many of them rode atop enormous, feral beasts or manned awe-inspiring machines of war. People recoiled at this sight as foot soldiers corralled them with prods of the spear. Dathron continued, "If not, you will be gathered for research. And if you are so ignorant as to openly resist me, I have conquered millions of worlds. The odds are not in your favor." with that, the columns of light faded away.

This, John was not going to allow to continue. Taking out the Sword of Constantine and the Shield of the unknown paladin, Johnathan stretched his clockwork wings and with a few flaps of his divine steel wings, he took off into the air. He soon had to deal with a sort of cross between a snake, a man, and a scorpion that rode upon something that vaguely resembled a stag beetle mixed with the worst traits of an octopus as he flew through the air.

But the rider didn't have much time to react to the sight of this shining paladin flying through the air, as the sword of constantine soon plunged into his abdomen, setting the creature alight as the burning sword pierced through it's exoskeleton. With a kick, Johnathan sent the body of the creature crashing to the ground while he got on his mount and yanked at it's reins, drawing it towards a passing troop transport craft.

Directing it at it's nearest engine, Johnathan leapt off and allowed the beast to crash into the vulnerable engine of the transport craft; immediately causing both to vanish in a thunderous explosion and fireball, leaving the transport to careen towards the ground in a death spiral that was interrupted by another transport craft; both of the vehicles exploding as they collided with one another. Three down...God knows how many left to go he thought to himself as he dashed towards a wyvern like creature flying through the air.

Presenting himself in as aerodynamic a position as possible, John sped himself up to overshoot the reptillian monster before turning around to dive at it, sword at the ready. Flying past the creature with astonishing speed, Johnathan brought his sword through the being's neck, neatly severing it's head and cauterizing the wound, sending both head and body careening towards the ground. The body crashed on top of another one of the beetle riders; sending all of them plumetting to their deaths. The head on the other hand, smashed into the cockpit of a strafing bomber, crushing the pilot and weighing the aircraft down into a nosedive that brought it smashing into the asphalt with enough force to more or less disintegrate it.

He then flew onto the shoulder of a massive building sized warmech, causing it's disclike head to rotate to face him, firing off an eyebeam that he reflected with his shield, angling the beam so that it scythed through hundreds of soldiers on the ground, incinerating them with the crimson river of energy before John advanced to the warmech's head and reflected the beam right back into it's primary optic, creating a feedback loop that caused quite the literal case of headbanging. Kicking off of the mache and then ramming into it's chest, John sent it tumbling down to have it's hundred foot body crush countless more alien soldiers under it's bulk.

Then he flew around towards a colossal tripedal vaguely reptillian monster, taking out his thermobaric cannon and ducking under an enormous cone of fire that the creature belched out. Flying with his wings extended, John had one of his wings stab into the side of the creature; sending torrents of blood coming out as he slowly circled upwards, grabbing onto one of it's horns and swinging himself on the top of it's head. Kicking off the creature's primary controller and sending the alien plummeting to it's death, Johnathan ducked under the glaive swing of another alien before shield bashing it in the chest with such force that it's torso imploded under the impact.

Turning around, John fired his thermobaric gun; coating the other riders of the creature with a cocktail mixture of special flammable materials that in a split second, ignited in a cacaphonic fury; creating an enormous lance of fire and overpressure that incinerated the other riders and blew their ashes far away. John then clambered down, clinging onto osteoderms like handholds before getting to the creature's eyes, where he opened up his wrist mounted steam gatling gun. With a bit of rev up, a torrent of adamantium bullets spewed forth from the weapon, shredding the behemoth's eyeball and boring a quick path to it's brain and blowing out the other end; creating a huge torrent of viscera that caused the monstrosity to tumble over to the ground dead.

But despite these impressive early gains...there was still a lot of work to be done...he only hoped the rest of the Order was doing alright. Thus, John quickly took off into the air, he knew that with Los Angeles' wide open spaces and vast sprawling structure, making a stand here would be futile. He needed a place where the enemy's numerical advantage wouldn't be so great, and thus he settled on New York city. Carried forth by Hypersonic winds, Johnathan was making the journey with incredible speed. And what he was greeted with...was a city in flames...

Aghast at the loss of so much life...so much death...especially of those who couldn't defend themselves...it lit forth the fire of righteous anger in his heart. Those who struck at those who could not properly protect themselves were especially despicable to the boy...and with a few flaps of his wings, he set forth into the city skyline, ready and eager to fight for holy vengeance and divine retribution. Already Talon forces were in the thick of the fighting.

No less than five separate crusader crawlers were at the scene, the massive tracked fortresses operating as staging areas for the Talon, while great numbers of Footmen used their "archaic" superheated crossbows to terrific effect, butchering the aliens in large numbers, with the Knights of the Order moving into the forefront, Errants blasting aliens apart with their rifles, Champions wading into the thick of fighting, swinging their holy swords to chop apart their foes, Templar Lords blowing apart enemies with their thermobaric cannons. Jager walkers stalked through the area, pumping vast amounts of death into the air, shooting down the foe by their dozens.

In the meantime, five cataphracts, five eden superheavy tanks, and five Lazarus Air Dreadnoughts formed the lynchpin of the talon assault, the massive war machines ripping into their foes with brazen boldness while the steampunk armies of the Talon marched forward. The Talon held an undeniable advantage in one to one combat with it's superior materials and unrelenting discipline against the wild and unruly horde of Dathron, but they were sorely lacking in numbers. But the Order was a wily and canny opponent, and was long accustomed to being heavily outnumbered. And quite soon, John would join them in battle.

#13 Edited by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

The battle raged below, spreading across the world like a furious flame. Even the skies were filled by the raging war to the point that the battle below was fought in the shade. All around the world, churches, cathedrals and temples burned. The lesser-gods had descended and took command of lumbering creatures far more imposing than the common legion foot soldiers. The General wrapped her whip around the neck of a statue in Greece and pulled it from its pedestal. Above her, a lesser-god stood proudly atop the temple. "Tear down the false gods!" he howled before felling a statue with a swipe of his fist, "Rip them all down!" All around the world, it was the same.

High above it all, Dathron sat on his throne. He wore nothing on his head, yet a crown of darkness seemed to loom eternally upon his brow. With burning eyes, he sat upon his towering throne, listening to the bloodshed outside his window. His ships were being destroyed, they could be rebuilt. His soldiers were being torn apart, they would soon be replaced. It was all the means to an end, mere materials to bring about his final goal. Now matter how long they resisted, the Humans would eventually be brought into the fold and they would realize the Supreme Vision. This was not mere conquest, Dathron desired to spread his knowledge of the Eternity Pit to every living thing. It was the only way to save these fragile beings from their foolish self destruction, and he gave them the ultimate gift in return, knowledge. Knowledge beyond this reality, beyond every reality, was his gift to any who simply came before him and swore to aide him in his mission.

The door at the far end of the throne room swung open and two legionnaires ushered in a shambling young man, terrified in the shadow of the immortal. He inched closer, panting heavily in fear. "E-excuse me..." he stuttered.

"I haven't the time for excuses." Dathron said coldly, doubting this man's potential as a lesser-god, "State your purpose."

The man swallowed his fear and replied, “It’s my mother, sir, she’s, uh… well, she’s sick. Got this autoimmune disease and… and we’ve spent the last two years just watching her die. Now, she can’t even get out of her hospital bed, she’s not awake most of the day, her skin’s turning yellow… we can’t bare it anymore. Please, sir, just save my mother from this and I’ll do whatever you want.

Dathron ran his hand under his chin, carefully considering the proposal.“Very well." he replied at last, "It is done.”

“Really?!” the man laughed, overwhelmed with relief.

Dathron arose from his throne, folding his arms behind his back in a stance of pride. “Yes. You will find your mother to be perfectly healthy." With a wave of his hand, lesser god marched up the steps of the throne to his side and he ordered to the alien member of his pantheon, "Have the woman collected for conversion.” The man was shocked by what he heard.

“What?! But you said--!”

“I have honored the deal." Dathron interrupted, two soldiers entering the throne room behind the man, "However, you said nothing of what I was to do with your mother after I removed her illness. You have weakness in your heart. I am afraid you have no place in my throne room.”

The legionnaires each took him by the arm and he struggled to no avail. “Please!" he cried, "Y-you can’t do this! Please!”

Dathron narrowed his eyes and watched as his visitor was dragged away, kicking and screaming. He answered coldly, “In a few hours time, you will believe that I can do whatever I want, and you will understand why. Farewell.”

The door to the throne room slammed shut. Already, thousands of Humans were being herded onto the ship, collected and pacified for research. He turned and watched the shadows race past his window. "How do none of them see the futility of this fight?" he asked as he heard the cacophony of violence that he had heard countless times, "I only wish to bring peace, to bring the Universe to order and divinity under my rule. They fight and kill and spill their own blood against me. And yet, they call ME warlord." Dathron spoke with fate, he saw the future, influenced it, and he knew all. He was well aware of his opponents and their abilities before his descent. The walls of his throne room were covered with the armor and the weapons of fallen enemies, not as trophies, but reminders. "I have conquered so many worlds, and they truly believe that none of the others had champions? That these "heroes" are somehow unique to Earth? Like every other who has fought me, every other self-proclaimed immortal and powerful being who stood in my way, too ignorant and stubborn to accept the truth I offer, they will fall."

"My liege," said the loyal Krulnak, emerging from the shadow, "These Humans have not been without their strife. Already, they have fought and survived alien races with incredible power and survived. I insist not that they were as wise as you, but they possessed impressive technology and the champions of this inferior world somehow endured."

Dathron looked down at his lesser-god with the eyes of an ancient being who had seen all and survived more."I too have faced these Universal conquerors," he replied, "Alien races capable of enslaving every living thing in every possible reality. They have fallen and I have endured. I am Dathron, I am the undeniable, the witness of what lies beyond this reality, beyond all realities. I know the one true way, and if they are too foolish to deny me, they will not survive." With that, Dathron descended the steps of his throne, towering over Krulnak as he went, the difference between them only furthered as the lesser-god bowed.


Rot awaited Dathron in a wide, empty dome constructed of rusted metal. The only light filling the room was the ethereal glow of the Flames swelling and spinning in a hole in the floor, spiraling endlessly into nothingness. This was the Eternal Flame, the fire that fueled his conquest and constantly renewed itself, refusing to burn out. The immortal entered the room, glancing down at the twirling, almost hypnotic flame.

Already, Dathron had granted Godhood to several Humans, and done away with hundreds of failures. Still, this one fascinated him, his insatiable lust for power, his willingness to serve, he was the perfect underling, but not the perfect god. Not yet.

Dathron came to face Rot at the rim of the hole, looking across the scar now carved into Rot's forehead.

He raised a hand and directed Rot's vision to the spiral, "This is but a sample of the Eternal Flame gathered from the rim of the Pit." he explained, "As I give a piece of it to you, you will be given the knowledge, the Supreme Vision, and you will be given immortality, power beyond even your imagining."

Rot stared endlessly at the flame, begging for it with his eyes. "So I'll have the power to cleanse this world...in your name of course." he said hungrily, dreaming of what he would do with the Flame fueling him, driving him towards true greatness.

"Yes..." Dathron replied, "Your bottomless thirst for power will finally be slaked, and you will have countless worlds to claim... in the name of Dathron... in the name of Eternity. As I have for all my lesser-gods, I promise you your every desire."

"Then give me the piece and I will show you what I can do with this power." Rot begged.

Dathron bent down and dipped a hand in the swirling flame. As he withdrew it, a fragment of the flame spiraled around his hand. He reached out to Rot and the Flame flowed from his hand into the rotten creature's eyes, flooding into his mouth. As the Flame filled his soul, Dathron rested his hand firmly on Rot's scarred forehead. Suddenly, the Supreme Vision burned in his mind, remaining their forever. The wisdom of Dathron was now his. He was a GOD.

Dathron stepped away and looked down upon Rot, now one among his pantheon, the latest to receive the blessing of the Eternity Pit."The power is yours," said Dathron proudly, "Now go and prove that you have earned it. And remember, if you fail me, I will gladly take it back, and much more with it."

"No one will stop me now! No one will stop The God of Death!" Rot proclaimed, bowing before his Lord and marching off to make him proud.


Dathron looked out upon the thousands of pods housing Humans, ushering them away for the beginning of their transformation. Suddenly, an image flashed before his eyes, a message from fate. He watched as the one called Kaligar swept down rows of his soldiers with a single thrust of his sword. Blood filled the air and stained the sands. If his personality would allow it, he would have smiled at this sight. Instead, he retained his cold, unrelenting grimace.

"A Symaarian..." Dathron whispered, amused, "He will come to me." The immortal turned and marched back through the corridors of his enormous ship to the throne room, "And I will be ready."

#14 Posted by Major_USA (938 posts) - - Show Bio

New York 24 hours into the invasion

Tom stood on the roof top of what used to be the American Museum of Natural History but now was only ruins. It had been almost 8 hours since those beast toke Ashley and he had to get her back but he yet to figure out a way but he knew she only had a little time. He looked down at central park where the slaghter had happened only moments ago. The military had been to slow to get here and couldnt react fast enough to counter this attack as if it would have mattered the soldiers that did show up lacked the numbers to fight with sort of real progress Tom had been fighting but for every one beast he toke down 4 more seem to come out of the sky and the troops were quickly cut through.

How could this happen to the world Tom thought to himself but he already knew they were unprepared for an invasion of this scale. Tom then saw two of the beast chasing a man down into a nearby ally. Tom picked up his sword off the ground time and ran on the roof tops till he got to the ally. He looked down and saw the beast closing in. Tom dove on top of one of them and kicked the other one of the beast in the face sending him to the floor.

"RUN!" he yelled at the civilian. Tom then saw the beast he kicked to the floor get up. He didnt understand it that kick should have shattred the beasts face in. Tom drew his sword as the beast picked up a battle axe off his back.

"Ive fought bigger." Tom said o the beast. Then the beast roared and swung down at Major he rolled just in ime to dodge the blade and he swung his sword at the beast leg makeing a deep gash. The beast swung his arm at Tom missing but hitting Major with the stick of his axe sending him into the wall. Tom fell to the floor and picked himself up and drew his other sword.

"Is that all you got." Major said as he wiped blood off of his mouth. The beast then charged and dove at Major axe swinging. Major side stepped and plugded his swords into the beasts back. The beast stayed there barely moving and Major turned toward the other beast. This one pulled out a two handed sword and spoke to Tom it was the first time he had heard one of them speak.

"You will fall like all the rest." The beast snarled at Major then toke a huge swing at Toms waist. Tom ducked dodgeing the blade by only a few cenimeters. He then kicked the beasts legs out in front of him and sent the beast to the floor he the quickly jumped on the beast chest and pludged his sword in its throat killing him. He then turned to the other beasat who was still trying to crawl towards his axe. Major turned him over and put his blade to his neck.

"How do I get to your leader?" He asked.

"Why you cant stop us Dathron always wins." He chuckled up blood.

"he will lose this war." Major said in a feirce voice.

The beast laughed "And what makes you earthlings so special how can you beat us." Major picked him up and spoke the last line the beast would ever hear.

"You lost when he toke my daughter." He then cut the beast head off and let the body fall to the floor. Tom then looked up at the ships.

"Im coming and when I do you will regert taking her."

#15 Posted by Soothing_Sounds (1718 posts) - - Show Bio

2nd Night of Invasion

Joey had originally intended to go straight to the heart of the city, where Dathron's giant ship was hovering above, but things had changed the first day. It was easy enough taking down the weaker beings, and not too difficult to take down the things slightly above them. That's not what had stopped him, it was the people who rebelled. No, not the heroes and beast roaming the town, ready for a war that they expected to win. It was the people who rebelled with their small weapons, their bats and their pistols. Sure there was the occasional person with illegally stocked weapons shooting down every being around, but for most they were out classed. Joey took the rebels and started grouping them up, he was going to make his own army.

He wasn't surprised to see he wasn't the only one rallying humans up. There was also the vigilante Longshot, for the first day and night, Joey had let Longshot go group his own rebellion, they would group up when the time was right. After Longshot though, there weren't many people rallying humans up, there were heroes working alone, and warriors working with their own kind. Joey was alright with that as well, the same applied to them as with Longshot. They would all group together when the time was necessary. Although with some of the biggest guns and warriors fighting this war, he didn't know if they would have to group together, but he did know that no one being could take on Dathron. Or at least take on Dathron and win.

Though Joey could be wrong, there were many beings that had easily died to his sound waves, and Joey hadn't even smelled his peak power yet. If Dathron was so powerful, why send so many weak beings who called themselves "Gods". Though Joey was not about to get over confident, especially since three people have died already, and one person had been broken down horrificly. These weaklings had even gotten Joey angry, a so-called "god" had completely crushed a female right in front of Joey's face. Never again, Joey thought to himself looking in to the fire of his groups nightly base.

A large abandoned building, luckily enough, recently abandoned. On the first night, one of his members, a crack head by the way, had told Joey of the place he had been recently living in. He had been amazed at how nice the building was, because of how recent the building had been abandoned, it was still in amazing shape. Well, at least it was still clean, though even if Dathron's troups wouldn't have destroyed the power lines, there still wouldn't have been any power. To make it worse, there were multiple times when the monsters would attack at night, the Joey and his group would fight them off, but in the end that's how his three soldiers had died. Of course Joey was looking at the bad things his little band of rebles had to face, he should be happy. After all, many people were going through worse.

After the first night, there were bodies and remains of bodies littered through the streets. Buildings destroyed, city blocks leveled, a whole lot of property damage, and now he could see that this army of Dathron's was bigger than he first anticipated. there were still monsters flying from the ship, but no matter how far he looked off, cities all around were just as bad as this one, the only difference was that there were more dead soldiers over there than here. Children and women, that Joey couldn't protect and had fought back, were scattered everywhere. And even now, there were still slaves being brought back to the hell hole of Dathrons army and testing pits. Joey's anger was ablaze, but this time it wasn't just him but the people in his group. they were recognizing friends, families, and lovers that were scattered or being slaved around. Their rage far outmatched Joey's, but that still didn't mean he wasn't their leader.

"Let's give em hell." Joey commanded silently, but that silent rage spoke for itself. The people lashed out and fought together to take out multiple beings who were part of the legion and freed more slaves. They were even strong enough to even take out a few "gods", and Joey let them, only interferring to make sure they stayed alive. That whole day was war, scaveging, and reunion. Now that it's night time, they are letting go of their rage, and mourning. Joey even allowed some to go out and get bodies, but instead of a burial, they burned them and collected their ashes as one. These people who died died fighting, these people who didn't have any power, these people were what Joey considered Heroes.

A girl who had lost her mother mother was walking over to Joey. Her along with many other children, were hidden away during the day when the war was going on, but somehow these kids always found out about the events of the day. When she had reached Joey she asked him, "What will you do tomorrow?" Joey smiled at the girl and said, "Tomorrow, we all join together and wage a true war against this warlord."

#16 Posted by .Longshot. (5245 posts) - - Show Bio

On the edges burnt and leveled plains resting beyond New York City, the view was the same as every major city across the world, smoldering ruin, pillars of black smoke reaching for the stars, and a blood red sky looming endlessly overhead. A village of tents was set up miles off and away from the ever-raging war and the people gathered from the mayhem rested there, trying to cope with the madness that had descended upon them. In the largest tent, a group of people were huddled over, children clung tightly around their mothers necks. A man in camouflage garb with a red headband, brandishing his AK-47, stepped in and stood proudly before the survivors. As the opening of the tent flapped in the wind, the others of his group were made visible, each with a gun in their hand.

"We're leading an assault on the city at dawn." he said gruffly, "Any volunteers?" The people were still. The soldier furrowed his brow.

"Nobody's going." the soldier heard from behind him. He spun around to see Longshot, his right arm in a sling, his costume laced with ash.

"Not your call, hero." the soldier said, his words dripping with disdain.

"I won't let anyone else walk into a massacre. Nobody's going, that includes you." Longshot replied stepping up to the man and staring him in the eye.

"Izzat a fact? Well, we have as much a right to fight for this planet as you supers. We ain't backing down for this 'Darthan' and we WON'T back down for you. That said, we could use you in the fight." the soldier reached behind his back and drew a pistol, holding it by the barrel and offering it to Longshot. "Here's your piece." he said.

Longshot pushed the weapon back towards its holder and coldly answered, "I don't like guns."

"Well, fine. You can play with your little sticks. At least you can draw their fire. Leave the real fighting to the professionals."

"What did you do for a living before the attack?" asked the archer.

"Huh? Look, man, I--"

"What was your job?" Longshot repeated stubbornly.

The man backed against the wall, reluctant to answer. "I, uh, I..." he muttered shamefully, "I was the manager of a... Best Buy." Longshot stepped closer, until they were standing toe to toe. With each passing second that he stared into the man's eyes, he drew out his strength, his bravado, his confidence.

"I've seen too many people die today." said Longshot, "Most were just fighting to survive. Others were trigger-happy meat-heads like you, who see the deaths of millions as an opportunity to play Rambo. Have you even SEEN what the invasion force can do? One of them took a shotgun blast to the face and kept fighting like it was nothing. And that... was just a grunt. Those monsters bigger than the tanks? You really think you stand a chance with your little guns? They will tear you apart." As Longshot finished, the soldier puffed up his chest and turned to the other survivors.

"Alright, I'm gonna ask one more time!" he announced, "Any volunteers for the attack?" The people, again, were silent. "Alright then..." said the man as he drew his pistol, "Now, we start the draft." He walked up to a boy, about fourteen years old, who was being held tight by his mother as they sat together on a cot. He put the gun to the boy's temple. "Get up." he ordered.

"You can't take my boy!" the mother cried, "You can't take him, he's only fourteen!"

"This is our planet, and we're gonna fight for it!" the soldier howled madly,"We ALL have to fight! The boy's old enough, he has to fight! He doesn't have a choice! Now let him go, and get the F**K OUT OF MY WAY!" Suddenly, his wrist was clutched in a vice and twisted so that the gun was out of the boy's face. The soldier turned, in severe pain, and saw Longshot, staring down at him as he crushed his wrist.

"Obviously, I didn't make myself clear." Longshot snarled before punching the soldier in the face and dropping him in the dirt. The archer emerged from the tent and shot a cold look to the man's group, who promptly dropped their guns to the ground and backed away. Longshot cast aside the sling. His right arm still hurt, but it could work, at least for long enough. As he walked through the camp, his communicator buzzed in its pouch on his belt. He took it out and set it to his ear. "Hello?"

"It's Hannigan, Longshot." said Melissa, her voice wary from loss and battle and defeat, "We got some new specimens from this 'legion'. Their armor didn't have any scratches, they didn't show any signs of seeing battle before today."

"What does that mean?" the archer asked.

"We cut them open, Longshot... their human." Suddenly, the archer froze in his place, overwhelmed by shock from this news. "The first of the captives Dathron rounded up are hitting the streets." Hannigan continued, "We need to stop this. We need to end this before everyone ends up like them."

"Don't worry, Melissa," Longshot replied, continuing on his path amongst the forsaken and the dead, "I will."


The legion flew through the skies and marched through the streets, all in neat and perfect formation. The lieutenants among them had been granted enough sentience to speak, and even then, they only spoke praise to their lord and master. They worshiped Dathron not because they were forced to, but because even these lowly creatures had been granted a glimpse into the pit, and they knew that he was right. They had cleansed this city, as well as every other. Many had been slain, most had been collected for conversion. Only the last of the hiders remained. After the major cities were finished, they would sweep the countries and leave this world barren and dead. This was the penalty for denying Dathron. Titans, featureless monoliths of stark stone skin, as tall as the power lines, marched through the streets, patrolling along with their smaller cohorts. The resistance had almost entirely been crushed. Many of these militia men believed that they had killed gods. In truth, not a single of Dathron's lesser-gods had fallen. There was the one who had died by the hands of the Symaarian, but he was the exception, and the death of a lesser-god was nothing short of a miracle for the resisting force, one which almost no other world had known before they were defeated. They possessed only a fraction the power of their lord, but a fraction was enough to give them might beyond compare.

Suddenly, the eyes of the marching legionnaires fell upon a preposterous sight. A man. One man walked the streets, slowly approaching them. However, this was no ordinary man. It was Longshot. Along his back and belt were adorned blades and other weapons were concealed within his costume. Twin rows of knives and short swords ran down his back and he wore his battered, withered armor. He came to a stop and all fell silent.

After a moment, the roars of the infernal creatures broke the silence and they poured down upon him. Some of the attackers were hit by arrows, but their comrades took their place. They attacked with gnashing teeth and streaking claws. Longshot slung his bow back over his shoulder and drew two of the curved short swords from his back. One by one, they attacked him, and one by one, they were cut down. Their numbers increased, as did Longshot's ferocity. He slashed with elegance and precision, putting an end to the enslaved flesh that attacked him. Before long, the swords were lodged deep in their victims' chests and he let them go, drawing their replacements. Now, they were flooding up about him and he kicked them away. He ran out of blades quickly, laying waste to his lifeless opponents. A mound of fallen enemies lay in his wake. From the sky descended a single ship, microscopic in scale compared to the throne ship. It soared between the rows of buildings, racing towards Longshot and slowly lowering in altitude until it was just above the ground.

As the vessel swept across the ground, Longshot jumped up and landed on the roof, falling to his back as the sheer speed of it hit him. The fighter rose up and twisted through the sky, but the hunter remained clung to the roof. He took a military-made grenade from its hiding spot, as well as every explosive cartridge on his bandoleer and cast them all into one of the external engines. There was a massive explosion and the ship fell to the earth.

Longshot rose from the wreckage, wounded and ragged. One demon broke out of the ruined vessel, the only of the crew who made it out, and stared up at its attacker. Longshot kicked the beast in the forehead and took the twin golden swords from its back, fighting off the next wave that came in around him as he stood atop the flaming remnants of the ship. This group was smaller, no more than ten of them, but each scored their lucky shot and made Longshot bleed. When they were all defeated, Longshot dropped his swords, blood running down his costume, and looked up to the sky, where Dathron's monolithic ship hovered high above it all.

"Here I am!" he cried, "You want me?! Take me! TAKE ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" He fell to his knees, quaking with rage and exahaustion and taking deep breaths. Suddenly, the ground began to shake. He could feel the thunderous trembling in the very pit of his being and, with a loud crack, the earth surrounding him and the destroyed vessel broke away and floated up into the sky, carried slowly by an unseen hand towards the distant throne ship.

Longshot quickly began dressing his wounds. He had to be ready. He had to be prepared.

#17 Posted by Warsman (3332 posts) - - Show Bio

Ever since Dathron's arrival in the Milky Way, the Boyz were becoming increasingly restless. As he drew nearer, Bloodstompa waited for the most opportune moment to strike. He had sought sanctuary in the asteroid belt surrounding the orbit of the planet Mars for quite some time now, building his forces substantially while maintaining the ruse of inhabiting lifeless chunks of rock, ice, and metal. The disguise worked, as even the most advanced Symaarian or even Keresh tracking devices failed to pinpoint his location. Now, with Dathron's invasion of Earth, Bloodstompa sensed something primal awaken in his vast horde. The time had come.

The asteroid belt sprung to life. Hundreds of millions of satellites left orbit with the power of custom-built jet engines all of which were painted red with the improbable idea that the color made the vessels faster. Perhaps even more intimidating than the number of spacecraft was the fact that the philosophy behind slathering them with crimson and scarlet dyes actually made them go faster than those left unpainted. At the forefront of the formation was Bloodstompa's personal Rok which alone held more than enough Orks to overwhelm Earth's defenses by property of sheer numbers. The rest of the horde was just for fun.

Bloodstompa had ordered his Boyz to land in the middle of where the best fighting was. This order came when they passed Mars, leaving the red planet in the dust. A few of the Roks careened into the surface of the world as their pilots were overcome with a "Speed Freak" fascination that this new planet could hold the secret to their obscene cult. Whether or not they survived the crash and discovered that Mars was the fastest planet in this solar system or not remains to be seen.

Naturally, the Orks became unquenchably excited when they drew within sight of Dathron’s legion. The Earth seemed to be surrounded with alien life, festering and streaming down to the surface of the planet in droves. Bloodstompa howled his approval as he led the charge. The Ork armada smashed into and through Dathron’s cloud of ships. Kamikaze maneuvers at their finest were performed that day. Scores of Ork vessels burned up in the atmosphere, but not before having taken a few of Dathron’s own ships with them. The black abyss of the legion orbiting Earth turned into a raging inferno as asteroids plummeted from the sky, hulking shapes of Ork and legion crafts smashed together in a glorious final obliteration. But these were merely the smaller asteroids. Bloodstompa’s Rok, all nine-hundred billion tons of it, made its ponderous approach with every crude gun the Orks inside it could fit into its bulk firing in every direction possible.

The invasion had been invaded.

Bloodstompa slammed the power klaw to his mega armor against the rocky hull of his flagship, anxious beyond any restraint now. His Boyz were on the precipice of one of the best fights ever to come to the miserable Milky Way. He even had hints that Kaligar would be there. Today would be the day, Bloodstompa knew it! Today was the day he would finally show that stupid Symaarian what-for! His Rok steered through the haze of legionnaires, crushing untold thousands and burning up countless more, and he opened the comm-link to a shared network between the Orks and Dathron as he screamed a mighty battle-cry:


The atmosphere exploded as the Rok descended from deep space. Its satellite asteroids plummeted in full force now, depositing innumerable Orks into various warzones. Humans, legionnaires, Keresh, or Symaarian, the Orks did not care. All they wanted was a fight and on every possible front, they were provided with one. This was their dream, a dream of blood and carnage on a planetary scale and beyond. Bloodstompa had initially aimed his Rok at New York, but Wrenchsmacka, his most trusted Mek, told him that doing so would destroy any chance of killing Kaligar. Instead, Wrenchsmacka advised his Warboss to hang the Rok in orbit and descend in a smaller asteroid. Bloodstompa, eager to fight but not eager enough to risk destroying the fight before he got there, actually summoned enough common sense (for an Ork at least) to listen to Wrenchsmacka.

Therefore, Bloodstompa descended in the luxury of a battlewagon filled to the brim with his strongest Nobs.

Now, if anyone knows anything about Ork technology, it is unreliable at best. Cobbled together out of anything a Mek can find, Ork vehicles shamble along the battlefield or zoom across it on trails of oily-black smoke. Battlewagons are the exception. They are some of the toughest vehicles Orks can field and are reserved for a Warboss and his retinue. Bloodstompa’s “Ol’ McSmashy” had the potential of being one of the best battlewagons in the entire Ork species. Only bad thing about it was that did not have any sort of landing gear installed. Come to think of it, no battlewagon of any type had any landing gear. No Mek ever thought of throwing one of the most prized possessions of any Warboss out from a thousand feet in the air. Things like that had your hands cut off and shoved into your ears.

Needless to say, things went better than planned. Maybe that was because Ol’ McSmashy was covered front to back with blue paint, which meant it was lucky. Perhaps it would have survived the crash if it was painted black for toughness, but at least the Orks inside managed to walk away relatively unscathed. A carpet of Grots and Snotlings emerged from the wreckage, screaming and vomiting with uncontrollable shaking fear. Bloodstompa squished a few of them under his mega armored boot.

Kaligar stood before him, killing legionnaires with a fury in his soul. Around him were those Squig-like things with hair and four legs instead of just two. Bloodstompa thought Kaligar called them “Stormwolves” or something. Hardly even mattered. He roared and Kaligar responded with a shout of his own. They pushed aside the legionnaires between them, killing most on instinct, and smashed their weapons together with a cataclysmic force. Power klaw and sword shot sparks in their confrontation. Kaligar glared not only into the depths of Bloodstompa’s beady red eyes, but he also shot a glance at the spot the Ork Warboss reserved for his head – a gruesome thing to concentrate on even for a second.

As if to break their embrace, being equal in power, Kaligar smashed his forehead into Bloodstompa’s piggish nose. He felt cartilage pulp under the impact, but Bloodstompa hardly moved. In fact, he began to laugh a slow mocking cackle thick with phlegm. The Ork returned the favor by not only breaking Kaligar’s nose, but breaking some of his facial plate in the process. Staggered and stunned, Kaligar raised Runesworn in defense from the inevitable sweeping advance of Bloodstompa’s klaw. The crushing power was unbearable for most and Kaligar wrestled back the Ork’s strength from such a precarious position only by pure willpower. He pushed the klaw aside and rolled to his feet. Bloodstompa did not even take pause in his attack. The Warboss swiped at Kaligar’s head, missing only by fleeting inches, and felt the sting of Runesworn piercing his torso. Thick, almost black, blood spilled from the gaping wound as Kaligar twisted his power sword. Bloodstompa smacked him upside the head with the short end of his mega stubber, refraining from shooting him partly due to the awkward angle of the shot. Kaligar almost managed to slice upward and end the Ork's regime once and for all, but Bloodstompa grabbed him in a wrestling maneuver called a "power bomb" and slammed him into the dirt on his back. His organs bounced around in his rib cage, some threatening to pop due to the force of the impact. Even so, Kaligar grabbed Bloodstompa's skull between his knees and forced him to the ground, pinching the Ork's massive head like a nutcracker to a walnut. He added to the pressure by punching his foe where he had made an incision with his headbutt. 

Bloodstompa simply laughed. 


He stood up remarkably easily and grabbed Kaligar by either side of his power armor like a toy. He cracked Kaligar's armor, nearly breaking his ribs in the process, but the Symaarian angled a kick at the butt of Runesworn's hilt and forced the power sword out the other side of the Ork. Bloodstompa gargled his own vital fluids as Kaligar kneed some teeth down his throat, causing him to let go of the Symaarian. Kaligar lunged for Runesworn, but Bloodstompa caught him by a leg and slammed him back and forth at least twice in both directions before the Symaarian summoned enough conscious strength to bend forward and latch onto Bloodstompa's arm, using the momentum of the Ork's swings to knock him off-balance. Using this to his advantage, Kaligar scaled the monster's back and wrapped an arm around his neck as best he could. From this vantage point, Kaligar slammed his elbow into the back of Bloodstompa's head seven times, each one forcing the Ork lower. Bloodstompa did not go down, however, not even to his knees, and muscled his dominance over Kaligar by falling backwards onto his foe. The sheer weight of the Ork in his bulky mega armor crushed Kaligar's legs, prompting him to scream in agony.

Bloodstompa grabbed a handful of Kaligar’s red hair, brandishing his power klaw in order to deliver the final blow, but Kaligar brought his arm to bear and stopped the klaw from barely reaching his face, the hydraulic talons still snipping at him. He looked to his left and saw the telltale glow of his power sword. Runesworn glowed hot in his hand as he gutted the Ork with a single, swift motion. Bloodstompa, in a mixture of enjoyment and pain, grunted an amazed chuckle. He pinned Kaligar under the barrel of his mega stubber, punching a circle-shaped hole in the Symaarian’s armor as it cracked beyond repair now. Kaligar felt two of his ribs snap.

“Now ain’t dis a purty lil fing. Yer ‘ead’s goin’ royt ‘er,” Bloodstompa motioned his head at his trophy rack, a space deliberately left bare for Kaligar’s skull.

“I would say the same for your head, Ork, but I would not appreciate the stench in my honored feasting halls.”

“Pity, dat, cuz I don’t care wot yer mangy Squig hide smells like. It’s all da same ter me, hurr hurr hurr, long as I get yer ‘ead before anyone else!”

Powering forward, Bloodstompa managed to cut into Kaligar’s facial flesh, forgetting for an instant that his mega stubber sat perfectly poised to splatter the Symaarian into pulpy goo. Kaligar sliced Runesworn into the delicate wiring of the firearm, disabling it for the time being. Bloodstompa, shouting angrily, raised his klaw to smash Kaligar into the ground. The Symaarian, resourceful as ever, rolled out of the way but not before leaving a live melta bomb in his wake. Stumbling on two broken legs, Kaligar soared with the momentum of the blast into a mound of dead legionnaires killed by Bloodstompa’s elite Nobs. He gasped for breath between the pain and the stench of the dead. He stared solemnly into the misty smoke of the melta bomb’s aftermath. Of course it did not kill him. Nothing ever did.

Bloodstompa emerged from the fiery depths of melted armor and slag creeping from his dark green skin. Every centimeter of his body was solid, ropy muscle – Kaligar did not doubt this for an instant. Now even more dangerous without the speed-deterring effects of his mega armor, Bloodstompa took a chainaxe from one of his fallen Nobs. Kaligar noticed that his power klaw was still active. The diamond-hard teeth of the Ork weapon whirred furiously as caked blood flew from its innards. Bloodstompa raised it menacingly, aiming to finally kill his foe. Kaligar barely managed to deflect the axe with his sword, but the klaw smashed into his torso as Kaligar stabbed Bloodstompa’s chest. They stayed stationary for a moment or two, each contemplating the extent of each other’s wounds. Kaligar drifted into the realm of heroes, nearly all of his major organs as well as one of his hearts utterly pounded into oblivion. As he joined the Allfather in a distant heaven, he felt no regrets.

It was truly his time to go.

Bloodstompa dropped the chainaxe and used his free hand to pull Runesworn from his chest. His Ork biology allowed him to survive the deepest and most horrendous wounds, but only a few inches separated Kaligar’s sword from his heart. Tossing the blade, more like a toothpick to him, away in dishonor, he set about making a trophy from Kaligar’s head. Laughing as he did so, he tore the skull from its stalk and mounted it on the hook he had reserved for such an occasion. The remnants of the vertebrae made a fleshy pop as he plugged the spinal column with the metal spike. The Symaarian hero’s face wore the expression of peace as Bloodstompa raised his arms into the air, proclaiming his dominance over all he surveyed as he made ready to plunge Earth into eternal war. 

#18 Posted by 614azrael (10306 posts) - - Show Bio

It had all gone so smoothly Hrothgar and Fengir tore throats with ease the battle not enough to slow their ferocity. Meanwhile Az and Kaligar cleaved through one foolish legion troop after another. Ravek and his Vanguard were beside them laying waste to all those who jumped into the path. Even her daughter, Kaligar's step daughter Salem entered the fight. Alchemy decimating those before her. It was truely more a slaughter than a battle. That was not to say the enemy was lacking strength it just failed to be in comparison with the tight knit group of family and freinds that only knew war. It was another battle for seasoned veterans. Then things slowly spiraled downwards. It started as soon as the sick wretched insult of a species fell from the sky. Ork forces oh how she hated that species with a burning passion.

They were not clever they flew jet propelled rocks into the ground and hoped their stupidity kept them alive. They were not smart they believed that by painting these jets or ships red they gave greater speed color had effects to them. These ugly diseased creatures were not wise they never bothered to learn the method of landing gear. She never believed there were any worth while gods after her first encounter with an ork. Azra was never religious that just was out of nature. When she saw a species that even its smartest got rank more from being bigger and meaner rather than inteligence of course she hated them. When she saw they compared her bloodlust to her own but lacked virtually any finess of course she loathed them. Soon though Azrael would have a whole knew out look on them. Not admiration of a stron opponent or anything of the sort. No only a proufound despisal that would rival even her daughters hate for humanity.

As the green skined fiends flooded the streets in a tide that rivaled that of the Legion things escalated. While the family and the Keresh fought the masses with ferocity Kaligar rushed to confront Warboss Skumgut Bloodstompa. At first she thought it predictable and laughable expecting the imfamous cry of "meaner is greener and you is neither" from the ugly leader. How many times had they kicked this brutes hide before there was nothing to dread. Her and Salem ocasionally looked away from their own conflicts to watch the fight. It was a long admirable thing persistance by both forces that was legendary. Armor cracked bone shattered and blood spilled and still the two thought it was all perfectly fine. There was nothing to worry about.

Then their worlds came to a screaching halt Ravek and the twins thankfully covering them. Fixated on the dual they couldn't avert their eyes. The moment they thought impossible came to pass. Her lover blocked the ax aimed at her and then two thrusted eachothers available weapons through eachother. Runesworn peirced Bloodstompa but of course he wasn't dead she knew anatomy well it wasn't fatal for an ork warboss. Meanwhile Kaligar his was fatal, a power claw through the chest. Organs demolished  spine crumbled there was no mistaking it. The head of Roxom, the father of her children, her closest friend, her lover gone. Kaligar was dead....

She knew Ravek took up Kaligar's body when they lrft and that Hex had carried Runesworn. She knew that Hex had combusted the air with horific force in retaliation towards the ork. What exactly hapend between when she turned and before she got to D.C. However was a mystery. All she remembered was her brutal onslought she released. It was a rare thing for her inner demon to come out in this moment though it manifested and her mood was set in stone. Her skin faded to an ash like gray like that of her daughter Serenity. Some strands of crimson still resided in her hair but the majority was white as snow. Her skin exposed was laced in thick black tattoos of ocult nature and upon her head was a crown of horns. Her eyes lost their emeerald flames to become a blood colored flame. Soon as Ravek had grabed Kaligar's headless corpse she exploded into a typhoid of violence.

Her mind reached out to every fluid in the area primarily blood, for what moisture aside from blood and sweat was there on a battlefield of fire and plasma. Azrael pulled the element towards her a good number of orks collapsing from blood loss. The nobs an boyz however were nothing to her. She called upon earth and metal trying to crumple every possible crap of metal down to bullet casings into small balls. Bone and tendant crushed within armor near by legion forces made into a thick paste in their suits of armor. The wind blew with enough force to rip homes from the earth, currets so swift it could cut open unshielded flesh. Then of course was the fire. It was a wildfire an inferno without restraint. The heat caused the glass and metal around to shatter or melt under the pressure. Anything and everything infront of her engulfed in a roaring blaze. From every sliver of shadow the darkness lashed out like wovles. They coiled and snapped like ravenous beasts embodiemnets of her wrath. It was Ravek who forcefully dragged her away from the fight.

13 Hundred Hours Following Darthrons Invasion

Azrael stood beside her daughter in the streets of Washington D.C.beside her the twin storm wolves. The city like so many others was a war zone. This one however was a bit better deffended however see you can have all the secret bunkers you wish when aliens invade those dont count for squat. As a result the parliment was boarded in the white house it seamed like ants on a hill more than a battle. Tanks opened fire and machine guns and even a few energy weapons of Stark Enterprises could be heard unleashing salvos of fire on the legion. A few heroes from various corners of the globe could be spotted trying to help. The world was literally at war and everyone was trying to do their part. The sudden burst of chaos though made it imposible for there to be order though. Organization was lost for fortified strongholds, and in this dark hour a sertain woman would step up to lead. In the second Meta based Civil War she was shown as a woman with ambition. Behind her were the Keresh that were with Ravek and a few of the Spine Eaters from Syapt.

Addmitedly the broadcast also was a lead reason she would be forever labeled a terrorist. After all burning a corpse on national television did not exactly scream lets give her spotlight on MTV. She was a wanted criminal and known dictator, a terrorist and a snake. No denial could be made that Alezra was a threat to most nations and her position in Tenebrasque In did not help that case. So when Salem was told what she was going to do the witch stared at her mother like she was crazy. Given her growing influx of rage however not even her children knew what to expect of her only that she wanted beautiful suffering. Her usual blood red hair and pale features had still yet to come back. All one saw in her blazing red eyes was wrath, her whole body and presence spoke of malice just waiting to be released. Ork forces and legions swarmed every street fighting in brutal conflict. All the while millitary deffended "key" positions and pockets of resistance engaged in gorilla tactics. Course anyone with half a brain on the human population knew where most were. They were not resisting they were hiding, trembling beneath the stairways. If this was going to be a winable battle someone needed to coordinate.

Every inch of ground was a fight for the small group battling through the streets. Ork forces had spread across the world like a plague and while to stupid to be tactical they were also to stupid to just die. She had seen Ravek fire a rocket into a group and one of the brutes still charged despite a large chunk of his skull missing. Ravek and Salem finished it off by both shooting the vermin in the head the sight almost brought a smile to the demons face. Almost, she was to enraged to truely show joy here. The world had disolved into a sea of chaos and yet the woman who litterally fed on it was robed of the plesantries. All she fealt was hate and anger, there was no proper way to describe her rage she was fealing.

Cuting a bloody path through what forces came there way the group approached the White House. Soldiers fought instinct and avoided shooting them as well as everything else runing about. "Your going to let us in" Azra gave the order and the soldier glared. Hex then leveled a bolter at the soldiers head and with it the clear was given. With that two alien races both warrior cultures entered the house of parliment. In this heightend state of duress a young witch who was a raceist to the human species entered a building of goverment officials. And it was during this hour of horrific invasion and something that seamed a promissed genocide of humanity a demon, a tyrant, a murderer entered the Oval Office. Of course the building was guarded and fortified like Fort Knox yet every soldier knew this was a sad day for the world and that there was no fight here. In times of even greater peril the greatest taboo seams hardly as obseen as one would wish it.

The presidant stood amongst his associates and pointed at her his voice laced with anger. "What the Hell is she doing here?!" A gun was raised towards her in defiance "the elections are coming up, I will not have one of my last actions in office be cooperating or consulting with this thing." Hex glared at the man with unrestrained hate her fists balled up "thing?"

Azrael brushed back a lock of pink and black hair from her face. The compasionate act in this kind of circumstance enough to quiet the teenager. "Cool it I'm here to offer help before this whole planet is a snowy providence of ash. Trust me you will look upon this day and realize this moment is what let you see your children mature." The gun goes off in rebellion and the slug stops in the air before her eye. With the slightest notion its shot into the wall redirected, the president clutches his ear from a graze wound. The others cant help but sniker dispite the repulsion they feel towards the woman before them. "The best way to describe it is the invasion force has been invaded. Your little rock now find's itself being assaulted by a vast number of ork forces. While they are about as stupid as they come they have firepower and numbers. Numbers that are only rivaled by the odds from the primary invasion. Darthron has an innumerable amount of soldiers and artillery. Right now every damn nation is taking a beating I am lending you a hand. As the Duchessa of Tenebrasque In and their teritories I am aloud to take ten percent of our forces for my own command for any given reason at almost any time. Obviously if LD and EC need them then Tenebra needs them and my command is over ruled. In a crysis like this though I have a fraction of an entire nations army I can send anywhere. With that is my own forces and Ravek's" she geastured to the freind near by. "Give me the rule of Secretary of Deffense for seventy two hours. If by that time Darthron is not gone, and assuming we some how do not end up all dead when hes gone then you can remove my segment of the base in orbit. Rigor Mortis will be yours to end."

The house burst into an uproar, finaly the president silenced the crowd and looked to Alezra in question. "Ok grand just peachy, what do you get out of this?" Now at this time one has to understand Azrael did not have her usual poise. She was still within her demonic form a set of horns on her head, black tatoos laced around her body ash colored skin and blazing red eyes. So when she smiled at this question it was not a beautiful thing, though her looks may have been enchanting the smile was that of a fiend. Someone weaving an unbreakable thread of vengeance.

"Tenebrasque In, Evie the woman who works for the Secretary of Deffence, and Salem and Serenity Roxom are to have imunity. Its not like you cant delcare war in the future you just can't arrest anyone. Given that the other likely outcome is the anhilation of humanity it seames a fair trade off." The others had to nod and agree given the predicament. Nobody paid notice to the mention of Evie, Syapt and Hex had plans and just got pardoned of it before anything even hapend.  They argued and yelled but enebitably agreed to her terms as well as any Ravek may of had. Just like that the darkest stain had been made in the senate. Well that was debatable Final Arrow once took action as the president, that however went unseen and was in the end aimed to bring down Tenebra. Maybe it wasn't the darkest act it was however one that would have lasting nightmarish effects.

With that the group left calls being made to build up the armies and issue the orders Azra and Ravek had set on the table.  Together they left and as they reached the door Hex looked up at her mom as if to ask if she was seriously going through with this. Compasionatly she caressed her cheek her raging inferno of a eyris looking into the rubied ones of her daughter. "When you and Evie tried to end this species it was god like. You would of made a plague or contagion that ended it all. This Darthron just has a big stalion to ride on. I plan to cut him down. You however cant come with me, know this is hard for you that you want vengeance and im sure Serenity is in your mind screaming." She nodded Az was right the other daugher was greaving just as well. "But I cant risk it here and now not after that, the Symarrian race and Roxom house has taken to much to end here."

With that Azrael and Ravek left for the battlefield. Soon enough a counter measure almost imposible to turn from would be made. Meant to help divert the ork and legionairs as well as give others a needed opening. All the two warriors wanted though was blood for blood. As they left a guard looked to Hex. His voice was a bit shaken but he managed to ask his question of what was going to hapen. Salem smiled "Darkness within thats what Tenebrasque In stands for you know. In two hours darkness will be the bigest flame for the moths. Death will look down on his daughter and say sh!t couldn't be worse."

15hundred Hours Following Invasion

Pockets of resistance were stationed leading to the Sahara Dessert off and on battles of heavy fire power that was meant to help attract the ork forces. Legion forces were there of course by default as they were practicly side by side across the entire world. The troops of Her army TI the US and Ravek's men were stationed to lay waste and retreat. Many expected die but Rav and her knew what they were doing for the forces not tied to some higher belief were converted. Each pack would fight to the death and if they failed to follow towards the dessert the attack she would soon do as a display of force would be enough to call them all out. It was easy the first persasion was the numbers the armies assembled was the most massive collective of enemies at the time outside of the Legion. Everything was scattered about here though were numbers that were so massive they could be spotted from miles out.

Azrael kissed the ground it had allready been a grevious battlefield not to long back. Heaven and hell fought here the corpses still could be spotted not completely burried by the sand. It was far from civilization simply a call to battle. The orks would go for it of course and the Legion well was involved as previously stated by defalult. From the skies rained down debree the air was a constant swarm of fighters going at it. Debree rained so much it seamed as if the skies were crying fire. "For the Keresh who die for this world Earth has never seen such warrior spirit. For the Symarrians never will we yeild. For humanity their stuborness is their greatest strength." She nearly gaged on that part but hey she had to lead this collective. "Kiara may your memory live on through Tenebra the darkness will never cease, For Kaligar. in taking you my love they have sealed that they will all burn. For my hate shall echoe through eternity.  Never will the Roxom name be forgoten."

With that she pointed to the gap five miles away and triggered the largest display of force she had ever done.  It was using a trick her dauther used in the KOV it was then magnified with her own pyro and geokenetic abilities. Any thing cought in the wave was not blown up or burned but incenerated pure and total obliteration erased from existance. The visure was so vast it reached into the skies mealthing legion ships hovering above in the crimson sky. The earth that rained down fell in chunks that were practically meteorites. A crater was in the ground at the center it was atleast a mile below the original surface the diameter three complete miles wide. It was not practical it was not rational it was an act of hate and anger meant to call any force stupid enough to confront her and those beside her. And from that deep crater demons began to crawl as she opened a rift sumoning the demons of the warp that followed her. Above in orbit was the providance of war that previously was France. Its arsenal of weaponry aimed at the battlefield. Azrael sought nothing but blood and misery that crater she expected to be overflowing with the blood of those geting in her way.

#19 Posted by Rot (309 posts) - - Show Bio

Rot’s small mind was prepared for the upgrade in power; he had suffered worse pain than the flames of that burned power into his body, no his mind was not prepared for the knowledge that came with his power. Rot’s mind was filled with the inevitable truth, Dathron would not help Rot complete his true goal of bringing sweet death to all and he stood no chance of defeating Dathron. But luckily for Rot, it is much harder to drive a man mad than drive them insane. Rot’s pitiful mind quickly jumped to a new section of his expanding knowledge base. It jumped to the Orks.

So many Orks, Rot could barely contain his rage as he focused on the legion of disgusting beasts that were heading for his new master’s fleet. Rot had always been so focused on Earth that he never even though about the possibility of any living beings in space, let alone so many. They were an affront to everything he stood for, wailing in the face of death, refusing to die from almost any wound. Rot grinned as he began to float into the air. "No one will stop me now! No one will stop The God of Death!" Rot yelled as he flew off away from Dathron, ready to purge space of every Ork in his way.

Flight was not Rot’s strong suit; he was blasting in random directions, zipping around unable to get a good idea of his own location. He cursed as he slammed into one of the many smaller Ork vessels. The impact did little to Rot, Dathron’s power had increased his already impressive durability greatly. Rot grinned as he touched the ship with his bare hand. Soon it began to rust, and fall apart around the Orks inside, the Orks were greeted by the void of space in a matter of seconds. It was soon followed by a greeting from Rot’s savage grin. “Feel the merciful touch of death!” He yelled, somehow creating sound in the void of space though sheer force of power. And then the horde of Orks went the way of their ship as Rot released his new power, a death field that left everything in its wake a pile of floating dust. Rot gave a mad laugh as he saw the rest of the Ork fleet and blasted towards it. There were more Orks to kill than Rot could imagine, but that wouldn’t stop him from killing as many as he could get his hands on.

#20 Posted by Syapt (263 posts) - - Show Bio

To be hounest this ongoing fight was rather boring there was no question these men and women that made up the legion were impressive. Numbers incalculable threat level  sertainly powerfull and the power behind the weapons swings unquestionable. The Spine Eaters could handle there own however plasma based swords cut even through their strong thick armor. Then there was Evie a walking arsenal of abilities, she labeled herself the Avatar of Evoluiton. Faced with the dangerous risks she adapted becoming resiliant to such fatal assaults. Her other ability was over time she leached ailities from others and added them to her growing pool of talents.. Ever adapting and becoming stronger she fealt confidant she could take any threat the emenies throwed at her. And so as the sun set on this increasingly violent warzone she issued the soldiers away. The Spine Eaters could go join Azra they would likely join with the demonic queen right before a war came her way.

Orks died in number the bodies far beyond countint, the Legion was a bit tougher. She was a walking atomic bomb though they were nothing and with the Spine Eaters gone and pedestrians dead she simply danced a ballad of ruin. Releasing violent blasts absorbing the energy and following into the next. A pattern of unrelenting nuclear force buildings showed scorch marks and glass shattered with every coming burst. Then she saw it a large legionair that walked past the explosion like it was nothing. She released a more concentrated burst it hit and concrete was dug up as he was pushed bakward. This was clearly a general, good she was bored with light weights. She cracked her knuckles and let her armor unfold around her body. Leaving her in the generic nanosuit she didn't want armor for this. Evie fealt these titans were in need of proving themselves. The general spoke some generic words how his master was great and how he was great. How Evie was not great but could be great if she joined he who is great. Typical boring lecture, she wasn't impressed she evolved to become a god these people just got it. "If I join you give myself away to devine servitude. I want it atleast to be that Darthron wants my aid not some generic follow or die scenario."

The general was massive atleast two or three feet taller than her. He was a little more distinquished than the other Legion forces. That explained the larger height and build as well as the  insect like mandible. A large almost rectangular weapon was taken off his left shoulder apparerntly resting on his back untill now. The weapon unfolding into a large high calibur gun from the looks of it. The alien weapon glowed as it emited a low hum as it came to life. It slowly became a scream before barking loud enough to make her ears ring. A procectile shaped much like a nail shot towards her it left a blue trail of exhaust as it cut through the air. She pulled the bullet towards a near by building. A tether of gravity shielding her from the coming bullet. The expense was her being thrown into the building to her right. The bullet colided with the adjacent building. The structure exploding in a puff of smoke and debree. Conclusion, that gun had to go. First things first that kind of toy would have to go. A flash of neon colored light and the woman designed to strive to be perfect looked into the souless eyes of one made perfect. He was ugly, good enough justification in itself for her to try and kill the creature.

Grabing hold of the barel she mealted the weapon her hands glowing with intense energy. Pushing it aside she moved in to strike the creatures face. The blow sent him flying through a lesser legion member in a spray of sparks and old blood.  The general however was still uneffected by the attack. Unphased by the metal shattering blow. Instead his claws glowed like a blazing sun as he charged forward.  His stride closing the distance in under a second. The claw dug into her arm as she raised her hands in a blocking formation. The searing hot talons cleaved straight through the infraglium, a metal near indistructable that she made her suit of eversence fighting Overkill. The skin was equally as tough as this metal and yet the blades still went straight through her arms. The humans and heroes likely had no idea what they were really up against.  To be hounest Evie wanted to know why he was playing with them. It should simply be assimulate and ahnilate. The power was there, meaning this god like figure either was playing, scheming or riding his high horse. She hoped it to be the second then maybe he would truelly be worth her time.

Twisting her arm she pulled the general and brought her elbow down on the Legion's arm. The force packed behind it causing the limb to shatter. For the lost arm though he seamed to simply regrow a new one. A long blade like spike, figures it wouldn't be so easy to end. The blade swiped for her neck Evie ducking  and losing a few strands of hair from how close it came. Her hand glowed as it changed to energy and repaired what damage was done to it. The  large spike was just now coming around for a violent thrust into Syapt's belly. Her hand concentrated the searing heat and energy into her palm as she went to block the weapon. The point hit her palm and boiled away mealted to a bubbling metalic goo. The rest of the limb followed as momentum carried it forward. The arm gone she swiftly plunged her fist into the generals arm socket reaching to where the heart of a average humanoid would be. She finished simply by releasing all the nuclear power within her small fist. A atomic bomb of a gernade released into the generals chest. The blast wiping out a fair number of ork and legion forces in the process.

She looked to the red skies the massive ship hovering above. "Evie, more commonly known as Syapt requests your pressence I adapt to any attack thrown my way. Eventually the powers I witness become part of my own. Of all the gods and titans of your armies I have a arguable chance of rivaling them all. And despite being the avatar of evolution I stand here now pleding to stand beside you. I wish to share your supreme vision, witness the same glory as you have."  She didn't know if Dathron would take her in. She did however make her plee offering alliegance. If not excepted then fine. Just another body to kill.

#21 Edited by Lord_Johnathan (3303 posts) - - Show Bio

New York city was hell to say the least. Virtually every major faction involved in this conflict had a major presence in the big apple, which was rapidly being reduced to a cratered moonscape. Virtually all the major structures in the city had been by now reduced to rubble. Everyone was either fighting or dead. A multi-way conflict had developed between the defenders, which the Talon had aligned themselves with, the forces of the Orks, the Black Hand and it's allies the GLA and Electrical Protectorate, the Mediterranean Syndicate, and Dathron's legions.

Johnathan ducked in a trench as a series of massive particle beams scythed overhead, pouring rivers of blue charged particles into a talon defensive line. But a cleric track soon rolled up to the fray and it's massive 225mm battle cannon sounded, shaking the earth as it pumped an enormous shell into the legionnaire lines, blowing apart the limbs of insectoids in a rain of body parts. It's heavy auto-crossbows and stormbows soon swept across the remaining infantry, blasting them apart as rocket propelled crossbows lodged themselves into their bodies and then detonated, creating more of the gory rain.

But the cleric track's frontal armor was soon scored by the white blast of a Black Hand scorpion tank's supercharged particle beam, blackening the armor of the vehicle and partially melting it. Rotating it's turret to the offending tank, the Clerick Track opened fire upon the Scorpion tank, blowing it apart with a single pony sized shell that ripped the Scorpion's turret clean off upon impact before exploding inside the black hand tank, detonating and smashing the Scorpion into metal fragments while liquefying the organs of the Millitans who were escorting it, causing them to fall onto the ground in a pool of their own blood.

Then the jagged line of an Orkish beamy deff gun's shot hit the glacis plate of the Cleric track as it started to rotate to a new threat, the orange arcs of power piercing through the Talon steel armor and hitting it's ammunition cache, causing the Talon tank to explode in a ferocious fireball, erupting outwards in all directions and sending the remains of the unfortunate crew in all directions. The loota who had blew apart the cleric track cheered and whooped loudly at the demise of the Talon tank but took cover as he saw a trio of hussar trikes advance, it's flamethrowers at the ready.

But at this point, a trio of tankbusters popped out from the rubble with rokkit launchers in hand and fired forth nine armor piercing rokkits into the side of the Hussar trikes, sending the Talon vehicles spinning head over heels, it's left side erupting in a petal style bloom and it's crew killed instantly. But before the Orks could celebrate, a wing of Templar lords came crashing down from the skies, carried forth on thermobaric jets. Taking aim with their thermobaric cannons, the Templar lords engulfed the orks with a ferocious cascade of fuel air blasts, incinerating the green skins.

Leaping out of his Trench, John advanced, joining the templar lords and activating his thermobaric jets to join them in another assault jump which sent them soaring above the ruins of the cfity into the midst of a group of heavy weapons specialists of Dathron's legions. Trying to turn their heavy weapons to bear upon these new foes, the heavy weapons specialists were caught off guard when a flight of Talon champions also joined them in the assault jump, crushing many of the enemies underfoot and then beginning to hack them apart with their ambriarically heated swords while the Templar Lords blasted apart several tanks with their thermobaric cannons, set to lance mode. Taking advantage of the time presented to them, the beseigers and brother knights in the company advanced forward and set up new defensive positions.

John himself took out his gatling gun and unleashed a long stream of ripping bullets that rent apart a horde of melee specialist aliens, the four armed reptiles being blasted apart by the advancing wave of superheated adamantium bullets, turning them into a large green coloured mist of blood and organs, copper based blood, John thought as he swept his gatling gun in an arc, ripping up the terrain and the enemies with equal abandon, slaughtering them in copious numbers as a railgun shot lanced out and hit a templar lord in the chest, piercing through his Talon steel armor with ease and spewing out his bloodied remains in an enormous, long thin stream.

The heavy auto-crossbow of a beseiger roared to life, sending forth a stream of rocket propelled bolts that penetrated then exploded in the bodies of many of the aliens, sending their body parts in a gory rain while Brother-knights opened fire with their own auto-crossbows, backed by a fusilade of ambriaric cannon shots fro the beseigers that engulfed large portions of the Dathroni horde, incinerating them instantly while the champions advanced forward and presented their shields as a first defense line. But the railguns sounded again and another battle-brother, this time a brother knight, was exploded as a railgun round passed through his head, his body being flung to the ground with a sickening thud.

Taking out his ambriaric grenade launcher, John took aim at the offending railgun totting powered armor suits and aimed just a bit up, sending the grenade in an arc towards the battlesuit group as it took aim and blew apart a Talon champion, firing forth, the grenade landed in their midst and exploded into a burst of electricity that fried the three Legionnaire suits, which collapsed in a heap, deprived of power. But a series of plasma lances from another set of battlesuits forced the knights into cover, taking potshots with their ranged weapons while blue-white streams of plasma ripped through the terrain.

Farsight enclave mercenaries...John thought, remembering some intelligence reports. These crisis battlesuits were ferocious opponents. Though they weren't the best at melee combat, getting there was nearly impossible. One Brother-knight who poked his head out too long to take a shot with his ambriaric gun was shot twice with plasma rifles that seared through his armor and left his chest a molten ruin. A champion was downed when he came too close to one battlesuit without trying to avoid it's notice, and the machine punished him with a shot from it's fusion gun, engulfing the champion in an incandescent blast that vaporized him instantly.

One battle suit turned to bathe the company with it's flamer, attempting to flush them out of cover, but this put him in the sights of a Beseiger's solar cannon, and an enormous yellow ray screamed out of the barrel of his gun, the beam roaring as it instantly heated the air before smashing into the battlesuit's abdominal region, piercing through it and then frying the pilot who didn't even have the time to scream. Waiting impatiently for his gun to recharge, the Beseiger didn't see another battlesuit aiming at him with it's Cyclic Ion cannon, rending him apart with a storm of charged particles that chewed through his armour and beatific body.

Taking aim with his thermobaric cannon's lance mode, John roared angril and fired forth a superheated lance that burned outwards, only to be intercepted by a shield drone's energy barrier that managed to hold while a gundrone aimed it's twin pulse carbines and let loose a storm of plasma at John, making him duck under cover before taking out his ambriaric gun and firing off a plasma blast of his own, impacting the drone on it's saucerpan head and causing it to spin out of control as it's front was melted into ruin. But the remaining battlesuits had by now taken cover of their own, and it would be too costly to force them out of their cover.

But a series of white rivers of energy followed by a series of EMP bursts heralded the arrival of a squadron of the most feared of the Black Hand's troops, the mighty Enlightened. The Crisis suits were short circuited by the EMP bursts, leaving them sitting ducks for the variable setting supercharged particle cannons that could either fire like a machine gun to chew apart infantry and light vehicles, blasts that could devastate massed infantry, streams that could deny areas and flush those in cover out of it, up to mighty beams that could cut through heavy armour and buildings. Dispatching the legionnaire battlesuits with ease after having caught them off guard, they seemed unstoppable. Or they did until a group of Orkish nobz slammed into them, letting loose their mighty cry of "WAAAAAAAAAGH!" and yelling something about "Whoite metal gitz!" as they charged into melee.

While the enlightened were certainly no sloucehes in melee combat, strong enough to send cars flying with punches or kicks, capable of deploying razor sharp claws from their arm cannons or energy blades and shields, they were no match for these one ton, ten foot tall, green skinned, war loving, and incredibly muscled fungoid killing machines especially when caught off guard. The ten enlightened didn't even get the chance to fire their supercharged particle cannons before a series of shots from kustom pistol shotas impacted them with large caliber bullets fired from tremendously loud double barrelled guns that seemed to rattle his ears, almost as much as their fearsome cries of "DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA!!!".

The Enlightened were forced back into a stumble while their ivory armor was dented and impacted by the shoota fire, but by the time they had regained their bearings and switched to melee mode, the first Nob in the group had reached the closest enlightened with his massive crackling power klaw extended. Even if the Power Klaw were not equipped with energy fields to slice through matter, the strength of the massive ork which was further enhanced by the mighty hydraulics, motors, and pneumatics of the power klaw would be enough to break even the Enlightened's formadible armor.

The first Nob swatted at the Enlightened with a strong backhand from it's power klaw clad right hand, sending it into a spun while the energy covered claws cut into it's armor as if it weren't there. A hefty pistol whip to the head from the ork caused the Enlightened to stumble forward, reeling from the hit before the ork punched it in the gut with his power klaw, the hydraulics of the mighty weapon whirring along with the Nob squad Nobz' cybork parts with enough force to send the Enlightened's wreck of an upper body flying away.

Another Nob, equipped with an 'Uge 'Ammer rushed at two Awakened who tried to train their heavy machine guns on the Ork, only for the first to have it's head crushed by a enormous overhead swing, the thunder hammer equivalent releasing a cacaphonic amount of built up energy that ripped apart the Awakened's upper body. The second Awakened was then met with a chest shattering right arc swing that ripped apart it's torso, leaving the Enlightened vulnerable.

The Ork ran forward at the Enlightened, only for the dead cyborg to jab it's supercharged particle cannon arm into the orks face and fire off a beam, spearing through and incinerating the Nob's head. But the victorious Enlightened had no time to celebrate, a chain choppa was applied to it's face until it's visor shattered by a second nob, and the ork forced it downward into it's skeleton, ripping apart the internal mechanics that kept the thing alive and causing it to fall to the ground in a heap.

The leader of the Nob squad finished off the last unengaged cyborg by spearing through it's abdomen with his massive Power Klaw, lifting his hand in victory and bellowing. But then came a Talon dragoon, the mighty Brother Thule, one of the oldest Dragoons in service, one who remembered the true origins of the Talon, armored in Divine Steel as opposed to the Talon steel used for non-venerable dragoons, Thule made his appearance known and smashed through a face of a wall of rubble, and brought out it's multithermo cannon to bear, setting it to sweep the area with explosive cones, consuming the orks who had enough time to let tout their mighty warcry before being consumed utterly. The venerable dragoon then advanced and stepped on one of the disabled Legionnaire battlesuits, crushing it's helmet beneath it's talon steel foot.

With a cheer John lead the Knights to advance, moving underneath the protection of the mighty dragoon, who grabbed a Black hand Dark Glass trooper who was hiding in the ruins of a building with it's massive power claw, crushing him into a bloody pulp with a squeeze of this limb and then casually tossing him away and setting it's cannons to lance mode, spearing a black hand scorpion tank that was engaged with a Legionnaire lizardlike warbeast. The warbeast was then set upon by Johnathan, who used his jets to assault jump onto it;'s necfk, taking out the sword of constantine and jabbing it into it's neck, then twisting the blade around to get a good swing in that decapitated the creature, sending it's massive head crashing to the ground.

The dragoon went onwards and came upon a Syndicate Titan security battlesuit which turned and let out "I pity the foo' who mess with the syndicate!" In an angry tone reminiscent of a metallic Mister T. "Death is the only way to cleanse your kind." Thule shot back as his stormbow riddled the knee joint of the Syndicate battle suit, forcing it to kneel. "Kneel before the might of the Talon's soldiers, and know death." Thule thundered as he brought his power claw into the face of the Battle suit and pulled it closer, bringing it right before his multithermo cannon, firing off two massive cones of explosive force that speared straight through the machine.

Charging forward into a mass of Hoplites, John brought up his shield to deflect an incoming railgun shot from one of the Hoplites, smashing into their shield lines with the Warhammer of Richard out. With a swing of his hammer, John sent many of the Hoplites flying in various directions, their bones and organs mulched apart while their armor and shields crumpled like so much tissue paper. Letting loose a cyclonic gust of wind around him, John blew apart the rest of the Hoplite formation, sending them in all directions, where a withering brace of fire from the Brother-knights in the company was able to blow them to pieces.

As this intersection was being fought over by the other four factions in this war, the 413th Knight's company was charging into a maelstrom of battle. Finally calling forth their teutonic bretheren that were for the time being kept in reserve, the 413th charged forward, letting loose the chant of the Talon's knight as the beseigers, Teutons, and Brothers let loose their storm of firepower while the champions, John, and Lords moved forward to engage in close combat. Their voices, both male and female, rang out into the air, speaking in a bastardized cross between the remnant memories of Gothic and Latin.

"Idivas, evo nos sudoni

Arhan asuvi varro

Ave - ni mach fordena

Avis, esu si surro

In avis, in novas, farsoni

Invere, vesu ves ni vox

Ire vas sumeni doni

Est vox menidis, varro"

They all joined in on the chant as they advanced like an unstoppable sledgehammer. Few things could stop a company of Talon Knights that had gotten the drop on their foes. In close combat, the Talon sliced through the dense ranks of the Syndicate that was busily engaging the Black Hand while the beseigers kept the Ork's heads down with a furious barrage from their heavy weapons. Five angel tracks advanced up, having caught up with their infantry elements while ten Eladrin fighting carrier tracks came forward. These elements were supported by four additional Dragoons, ancient battle brothers ready to bring down the foes of the Order.

The newly arrived tanks and IFVs turned their guns on the black hand, tearing through their lines and punching holes, forcing the hand and it's GLA and protectorate allies to seek cover and effectively keeping them pinned. The mighty Brother Knights brought their ranged weapons to bear upon the orks, assisting the Beseigers with their task while the ranged Teutons and Dragoons focused upon the Dathroni forces, forcing them to seek cover in the face of Talon might.

A mars pattern battle suit flailed around as it's arm and shoulder mounted railguns proved to be useless in close combat, With a swing of his hammer, John slammed the mighty artifact into the chest of the Syndicate battlesuit, blowing it's torso apart with a tremendous thunderclap and sending the wreckage tumbling to the earth. Turning to face a frightened Legion security soldier, John bashed his face in with the hammer, continuing the warchant of the Knights of the Order of the Talon, quickly turning to send his shield bashing into the face of an approaching insectoid Dathroni warrior armed with a staff, stunning it and allowing John to sweep his clockwork wings in an arc, neatly bisecting the beast.

"With me brothers! For the freedom of the earth! We are the angels o death! Est vox menidis, varro!" The Dragoon cried out as an enormous Talon Cataphract advanced in the area, it's enormous steam cannons letting loose an enormous barrage that shook the very earth as it's enormous cannons sounded, sending forth titanic shells bigger than trucks that roared as the sound barrier issued it's protests, slamming into the ground with awe inspiring amounts of force, blowing apart the remaining enemies who were blocking their advance, allowing the 1st Talon Irish regiment to advance.

The 1st Talon irish regiment regiment of light infantry, the footmen in this regiment were equipped with stealth cloaks and lighter armor than was typical for Footmen. As the company of talon knights made their advance, setting upon a force of Dathroni legionnaires who resembled the Greys from Zeta Reticuli. Going in for another assault jump, the Talon got right up into their front lines while the 1st Irish regiment came around to assault their rear, their solar rays firing off a precisely aimed stream of yellow solar rays that impacted into the backs of the aliens, frying them in a cascade of holy light.

John spun around with his bladed wings extended, the divine steel instruments gliding cleanly through armor, flesh, bone, and shielding, spraying forth viscerae in all directions as he took out his hammer and rushed at one of the Aliens who raised it's energy weapon in defense, only for the hammer to come smashing into it's face while the distant cataphract blew apart a dathroni tripod with a salvo from it's enormous cannons, the smoke belching automatons being audible from a distance as they did their bloody work.

A nearby champion waded into the melee, this sergeant being equipped with his ambriaric sword and power fist. His sword sliced right into the gut of another Staff wielding insectoid as it tried to bring it's blasters to bear, his power fist roaring as it's matter disrupting field came to life, the strength enhancing implements of the steam powered fist smashing apart the exoskeleton of the insectoid with ease. A templar lord to his left calmly advanced, taking aim with his thermobaric pistol and setting it to lance mode, spearing through the head of a Kroot mercenary for the Dathronis, then swinging around his ambriaric axe to hack a skrull soldier in half, the cauterized injury spilling no blood.

A Teutonic Champion charged into battle, his ambriaric claws at the ready. An unfortunate cybernetic wampa stood in the way of the bulkily armored battle brother, but as it raised it's huge fists to try to pulverize the Teuton, the knight made a right slash with the claw, carving open the abdomen of the creature while a stabbing punch with his right hand speared through it's heart, impaling it's major organs. Yanking his claws out the warrior went on to cut a monstrous crablike alien's pincers off with a well aimed slash before stabbing another claw into it's front, twisting his blades around until he cut up it's brain, upon which he withdrew the claw.

Ducking under the lightsaber swing of one reptillian creature, John brought his shield forward to block the next downward slash of the purple scaled creature, the lightsaber failing to even make his divine steel shield hot. But John's retaliatory uppercutting swing blew the upper torso of the eight foot tall alien apart, sending it flying, or at least, the gory remains of whatever was left of it. In the meantime, a squadron of men at Arms brought their Solar Majoris Guns to bear, letting loose a rapid fire stream of yellow bolts.

Five leathery brown primate like aliens dressed in a strange sort of flak armor were blasted in the chest, their torsos cratering as the mighty solar rays burnt their way through their armor and then explosively vaporized the parts of the body they hit, sending them down in a bloody mess. An ambriaric gun equipped man at arms was thens ignalled up, the full face helmeted half plate equipped men at arms utterly anonymous. The ambriaric weapon hummed as it charged up before releasing a orb like molten pulse that screamed through the air, smashing into a heavily armored war robot's chest and leaving it a molten ruin, causing the machine to come to a sudden halt.

A horde of goblin like Dathroni hordelings charged at the Footmen coming to their other side, but a Man at arms calmly levelled his flamethrower and sent forth a stream of holy napalm that engulfed the incoming soldiers, who flailed and screamed even as their bodies were quickly renderred into ash, the Man at arms sweeping the burning jet around to catcfh more of the enemy in the heat and force them out of cover, where the footmen's solar guns were able to fire into them, followed by a fusilade of ambriaric pulse blasts that downed the heavy infantry.

A footman heavy weapons team had by then set up it's autocannon and took aim at a group of massive heavy infantry clad in thick plastic armor plates the color of midnight, their menacing green visors concealing their faces as they brought their disruptor blasters to bear, instantly incinerating many of the men at arms and footmen who disappeared in flashes before leaving only dust. The autocannon was then fed 100mm rounds and began a "thwuk-thwuk-thwuk-thwuk" as it lobbed these massive rounds at a rate of 600 per minute.

The first of these monstrous midnight troopers to be caught by the autocannon took a 100mm round to his shoulder, causing the four armed juggernaut to stumble backards and roar in an agonized fashion as the arm was blown apart, blue cobalt based blood spurting out like a fountain. The air split with a high pitched whine as it fired another shot from the disruptor, sending a red bolt that incinerated a Man at arms, leaving only dust in it's wake.

But two more rounds slammed into it's torso, gouging out huge holes in it's chest and causing it to slump forward from the damage while it's comrades incinerated a Brother-knight with a fully charged shot from it's disruptor cannon, sending a blue pulse that hit the chest of the brother-knight and causing him to disintegrate, screaming all the while. Firing at a group of footmen, the Midnight Trooper incinerated ten of them in a cone mode for it's weapon that seemed to do less damage, thus restricting it for use on less armoured targets.

But the midnight trooper never quite expected to become the target of one Angel track tank whose twin autocannons blew it apart in a hail of 100mm rounds. The heavy weapons team with the autocannon swept it around, blowing out craters and sending limbs flying in all directions. A dathroni AAT tried to turn it's well armed and armored front to the approaching footmen, hoping that the Midnight troopers, huge burly mollusk aliens possessed of incredible strength, durability, regenerative powers, and surprising speed and intelligence who formed an deadly elite in the legions of Dathron, would cover it's rear.

Firing their disruptor cannons, the midnight troopers managed to keep the Knights away from the rear of the AAT, the blue bolts of their weapons earning a healthy level of respect from the 413th company. But a besieger simply took out his Solar Cannon and fired, ripping through the air with a yellow beam that speared straight through and flash vaporized the midnight trooper, continuing straight on and blasting through the tank it was guarding, destroying it's repulsor lift engines and causing it to crash to the ground while fire bloomed out of it.

Thule advanced forward, heedless of the enemy fire that could do nothing to his thick divine steel plating and prepared his multithermos for another sweep, and soon a huge series of fiery cones blew apart the remaining Dathroni soldiers, incinerating their remains and casting them to the winds, leaving naught but dust and smoke in his wake. John was admittedly, still very much in awe of Thule's tremendous firepower, and he definitely looked up to the venerable warrior.

With no foes left, the 413th company moved forward. But as they advanced, the 1st Irish regiment aimed their solar guns at the knights. "What is the meaning of this!?!" Demanded one of the templar lords. "We serve a new master...one that Igzvald has always served." The Colonel in charge of the Irish regiment responded. The 1st Irish regiment unflinchingly kept their weapons trained on the Knights, some starting to cackle a little, and now that the adrenaline was starting to fade, John could see that these soldiers were...touched...by unholy influences, subtly different, spikier, bearing the blasphemous symbols of an ancient enemy.

"What is the meaning of this blasphemy?" A champion asked, his voice raising in fury. "We speak of the power of Chaos....the Seraph Igzvald has always been loyal to the true Gods. Join us, and know the glory of Chaos undivided! Refuse and the warp shall take you into it's empyreal abyss!" The Colonel cackled. "Aldeon is coming for the bastard children of Symaar. Join him and serve the true gods as champions! And you John, you could be a mighty Daemon Prince if you would but see the truth! Cast off the chains of servitude to a false god based on the bastardized memories of the false navigator! Be free of your weak flesh and accept and see the glories of a blessed form comprised out of the essence of the warp!" The Colonel said as he brought out the eight pointed star of Chaos undivided, focusing his attention on the young saint.

For a time, John was silent...he couldn't believe it. He thought that the seraphs were simply corrupt, but to think that one of them actually served one of the greatest enemies of the Talon, the four gods of Chaos, which had long fought the Talon ever since the warp's influence had first began to seep to the earth....it was just mind boggling....But then finally, the blue eyed knight looked up, his winged helmet focusing on the speaking Colonel. He breathed in, letting the cool pressurized, recycled air fill his lungs before speaking, the gears of his armor working constantly.

"Thank you....You've helped me see the truth that I was unable to see alone....You've shown me just what lies at the heart of the order....You've shown that I've been working for the very forces I've fouought against all my life....But I am not going to go, turn around,a nd join Chaos. No, I will not turn my backs ion the people I serve! No, the only one who's shuffling off this mortal coil is you!!!" John said with an ever increasingly loud voice before jabbing the sword of Constantine into the chest of the Colonel, causing his to ignite in an agonizing blaze, his body consumed in the fires of the righteous.

One third of the six talon crusader cells in the city of New York began to turn on their allies. One third of the entire order of the Talon began to show their true loyalties, their loyalties towards chaos. The efforts of the defenders of the Earth had just been crippled from within. From within his chambers in his personal crusader cell, the Seraph Igzvald fluttered on his six wings, leading a ritual meant to call forth a great host of Chaos to the Earth, reaching out into the Empyrean, the corrupted Talon created a warp portal, not large enough to consume the Earth, but enough to bring forth the attention of the forces of the Dark Gods.

From this portal emerged a figure in ebony black armour trimmed with gold. Xaraghoul, mortal warmaster of Chaos. A first step on the path to summoning forth Aldeon. "Who summons me to this world?" The chaos space marine thundered haughtily. "We, oh mighty warriors of chaos, bring you forth to this world to claim it for the Dark Gods...the last sons of Symaar are dead....and the time has come to forever alter the Earth's destiny to the whims of the warp....bring forth your mighty war host, oh great sons of the Dark Gods...and cleanse this impure world in the fires of the warp!" Igzvald beseeched, his melodious voice taking a sinister tone as his winged form hid a monstrous body that was given the "blessings of chaos."

"And it shall be so....the war bands are already on their way...and you shall be blessed for your services to the Dark Gods...Igzvald....for your form shall be chosen as the vessel that Aldeon shall use to manifest in the Materium. Rejoice, for you have earned the honour of becoming a sacrifice to the Dark Gods to bring forth the mightiest servant of Chaos undivided!" Xaraghoul crackled as the first elements of his war band began to stream through the portal....the mighty chaos space marines had arrived to bring forth a new element to this war. And now the darkest hour of the earth began, as six factionsravaged across her fair surface, it would be the blackest night in all of history.

Not only did a third of the Talon reveal it's true colours, a fourth of the syndicate, and a fourth of the Black Hand and it's Protectorate and GLA allies also turned traitor, along with fully half of the World's armies. Half of the seemingly defending soldiers declared their allegience, or more correctly, revealed it to the world. In a single stroke, Igzvald had virtually crippled the Earth's defensive efforts. As if to make matters worse, warp portals were opened by all of the traitor black hand, syndicate, and talon cells, allowing the forces of the Empyrean to step forth into the materium, having waited for the day to alter the future destiny of the Earth for thousands of years.

Vast fleets of Chaos Ships began to emerge from the Warp, tearing themselves into reality after leaving vast multicoloured swirling vortexes that lead back into the Warp, the huge fleets quickly set about blasting their way through the mess of ships below, from the mighty spacehuks down to the smallest hell reaver interceptor all to allow vast spacebourne forces to be deposited on the planet, while others began boarding actions and engaged in disorderly space combat above. The battle for Earth was quickly transforming into the largest space battle to have ever been fought for countless centuries, with the news of the fight spreading across the galaxy, bringing more Chaos, Black Hand, Protectorate, and Ork fleets over to the Earth in hopes of finding a fight.

On the earth, Chaos Space marines, Traitor Guardsmen, Heretics, and Daemons all emerged from their portals where they were summoned, coming forh as an vast host of utter horror. The already beleagured population of the Earth panicked utterly, this final addition to their already mounting list of problems was too much for many of them, and many gave into despair, throwing themselves with whatever army they were closest to in some attempt at surviving. This pleased the forces of Chaos, for vast flocks of people gave into worship of the dark gods as they shot past the despair event horizon, though it also bolstered the forces of Dathron, the defending armies, the Syndicate, and the Cult, it was doubtful that the Orks did much of anything with the mass droves of humans who threw themselves at them in hopes of mercy.

Xaraghoul himself soon marched out of the portal he was summoned from and into another with his personal escort into the city of New York, where the rain of ork roks was joined by a rain of stormbirds and dreadclaws that deposited the chaos space marines, while valkyries and dropships deposited heretics and traitor guardsmen, followed by minor warp rifts bringing forth Daemons into the city, summoned forth by traitorous Black Hand liches.

"Ahh...a new world to ravage...and not just any world...but the past incarnation of Terra...now warriors of the dark gods! Come with me! For we shall alter the future here and now! And thus the worl let the galaxy burn! Let the heavens bleed!' Xaraghoul roared, raising his mighty daemon blade above his head to rally his warriors, who returned the hearty cheer as they went forth into this maelstrom of slaughter and death. In the meantime, the 413th company was pinned by the Irish 1st who had opened fire the moment John stabbed the Colonel. A series of solar gun shots forced the knights to duck and hide, while thermobaric lances shot out and crippled one of their Angel tracks, the vehicle spinning around a bit before it's engine exploded, leaving a smoking wreck. Thule roared with seething anger, firing off a series of thermobaric lances to attempt to punish the traitor footsmen, but the arrival of a chaos Predator Annihilator forced even him to stand back and seek cover.

The tank of the black legion, decorated with the crucified corpse of some long forgotten foe and countless spikes, along with a havoc launcher, took aim at pinned Talon knights and let loose crimson streaks of energy that sheared their way through the collapsed rubble of a building, kicking up dust while a fwooshing noise filled the air as the air was split by the sudden heat of the lasers.

Emerging from his cover with a gatling gun in hand, John fired his weapon at once and scythed down no less than fifty of the traitor footsmen, who exploded into a pink mist as the bullets ripped their bodies asunder. But a series of bolter rounds impacted his breast plate, knocking him backwards into a stumble. He looked and saw plague marines, devotees of nurgle famous for being almost invulnerable.

One talon brother-knight emerged to fire a shot from his ambriaric gun, but the mighty predator tank quickly moved to intercept the shot before firing off some havoc missiles, which exploded into fragments over their heads, showering them with shrapnel and causing some superficial injuries. But as he rose to take another shot, the incoming plasma gun shot from one of the plague marines proved to do not quite so superficial damage, leaving the brother-knight's chest a boiling ruin of burnt flesh and white hot metal.

One of the teutonic knights emerged to fire his mortis autocannon, blowing apart another sixty of the traitor footsmen, whose limbs flew in all directions as the high explosive shells raked out across the enemy. But the Plague marines had wisely taken cover, and they brought out a bile spewer, an nurglite alternative to the flamer that was all the more horrific. Shooting forth a horrific smelling green sludge in a jet, the plague marine swept it across five of the brother marines nearest to him. The armor of the talon soldiers held for a little while, but the decay soon seeped in and then rotted their armour and stripped flesh from bones in mere seconds, their rapidly decaying bodies screaming until their vocal cords rotted.

The predator annihilator then turned to face another angel tank and speared through it's side armor with twin lascannon beams, spearing through it's side armor and blowing out it's ammunition cache. Turning it's sponson guns, the Annhiliator took out two eladrin tracks, punching holes in them that dripped with molten metal, while two krak missiles flew forth from plague marine launchers and took out a Dragoon, whose armour erupted in an massive explosion as his autocannon rounds detonated within. With more of the chaos forces approaching, the situation was turning desperate, John needed reinforcements now...or he feared that this would be his last fight.

#22 Posted by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

Dathron descended the steps of his throne, approaching the two newest members of his pantheon. The others of the human gods were out doing their masters work, including Rot, who at last fulfilled his lust for power. The two stood proud, hearts fueled by the Eternal Flame. Between the newborn gods and their emperor lay a man, defeated and suffering, dressed in blue and gold with a flowing cloak and a gleaming helm. He was one of Earth's heroes, and he had lost, jut as all the others had, or were soon to.

"Please... Martha... don't do this!" the hero cried to one of the gods, his sister. He reached out to her and begged for her to listen. "He's using you! You don't understand!"

"I understand perfectly, Mark." she replied coldly, walking towards him, "You can't stand that I've become more than just your weak little sister, always living in your shadow, always knowing that I could never be as good as you. You're not the only one with power anymore." He held out his hand for her to take. "Please..."

"No." she interrupted, a light beginning to burn in her eyes, "You can't tell me what to do anymore. You can't lecture me about responsibility or control or power... because now, I know power. I know power beyond your imagining... and I'm not letting you push me around anymore." As the light grew to blinding, it shot from her eyes and obliterated his arm, reducing it to ash, and the ash to nothing. He rolled on the ground in agony. She simply watched carelessly as her brother's screams echoed through the massive throne room.

Dathron stared down at his underling, and she folded under his gaze. She and the other god walked off and left their master to his work. He picked up the defeated champion without effort and they glared into one another. "Y-you won't win... you won't get Earth." said the hero, mustering his last shred of defiance.

"Earth?" quoth Dathron, almost amused by the mortal's claims, "I care for this planet as I have all the others in my path, as I would a pebble beneath my heel. Why would I want Earth... when I have your sister?" The hero's eyes went wide as Dathron slowly placed his hand over his head, wrenching his minuscule neck with ease, then dropped his corpse to the floor. As Dathron turned to walk away, the Eternal Flame swirled around the fallen hero, reducing him to ash and casting him to the wind. Dathron gathered nothing from his body. Such vermin was not worth remembering.

He went back up the steps of his throne, but his attention was taken as the door to the far end of the room burst open, the figure of a woman standing with the light to her back. She stood as a fighter would, tired, beaten, but always ready to engage an opponent. Dathron narrowed his eyes, not bothering to even turn towards her.

"Armor..." he said, seemingly to himself, "Armor is for the warrior who doubts their own strength."

The girl raised a brow in question but she halted herself at the doorway, knowing better than to approach him. "Or simply added reinforcment. Why should my blood spill by lesser things?" she asked.

"I require no reinforcement. Then again, I am no warrior. I am the emissary of the Eternity Pit, the center of creation, the source of all power, beyond time and beyond reality. If you are to join my cause, if you are to join me in spreading the Supreme Vision, you must swear unflagging allegiance. So tell me... are you deserving of godhood?"

The girl hesitated, but at last, returned with confidence unbecoming of someone in the presence of a god, "Much as I label myself the avatar of evolution, I'm not its god. I am still but a warrior and wish to become more. I seek to be the emissary, the catalyst of power rather than the blind holder." She dared a step into the throne room, then began coming closer, looking upon Dathron with respect, as an equal. She saw him not with fear or hate filled eyes, standing in awe of his greatness. She merely saw him as someone to trust, someone who she desired to be like. In her world kneeling was not allegiance but submission. "I wont bow and lower myself. I should be a god amongst gods. However, I relinquish my freedom of choice to pledge allegiance to the supreme ruler's vision."

Dathron was now standing directly before her, eyes burning as he flowed to the brim with righteous power. "Very well, child." he boomed. Suddenly, the panels of the floor rocked and trembled beneath their feet. With only a brief flex of his concentration, the metal tiles lifted from the floor and formed a platform that hovered above the ground, carrying them off through the ship. "You have all of time to learn obedience, and all the cosmos to call your domain." They drifted through the air, over the heads of his underlings. At last, they arrived at the rim of the well, holding but a sampling of the Eternal Flame. He gathered some of the cosmic fire in his hand and passed it into her. "Arise, Syapt, herald of the Supreme Vision, guardian of the Pit. Purge this world of its heretics, of those who are so ignorant as to resist the ultimate truth, the ultimate power. Cast their ashes to the wind and rejoice in their end."


Dathron ventured to the deck of the flagship, feeling the icy wind brush against his coarse, impenetrable skin. He heard the whispering of fate. The Orks had fallen from the sky, many of them being lost in the rain of madness. Countless forces fought on the ground, some saving Earth, others simply saving it to conquer themselves. Fate handed down one last detail to him... the Symaarian was dead.

His face did not flinch, but the god of gods pondered this for a moment. "This was... unforeseen." Fate was not a tangible thing. It was easily influenced, easily changed by circumstance. Still, the Orks were a nuisance. They had to be dealt with. Simply raising his arms far out to either side, Dathron closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. They swelled with such intensity that, by curling the fingers of his open hands, he took hold of each and every Ork traversing the lowly world beneath him. He gradually pulled his arms together, dragging each of the infernal beats away from their fights. As he brought his hands together, he clasped them into a single fist, raised it high over his head, and swung down, crashing the Orks into the center of the ocean.

"Release the pit dweller." he ordered. Upon his command, one of the vessels of the fleet tore off from the ranks and flew towards the seas. Arriving at its destination, hovering a quarter mile above the cluster of Orks, the ship opened its belly and there was a roar from within as a being most foul was unleashed. The unspeakable horror fell from the ship, a massive beast, a worm capable of devouring mountains. Its tough skin was encased in interlocking metal plates and the gaping maw was lined with millions of spear-like teeth, like jagged rocks lining the depths of a cave. As it twisted through the air, one could see clear to the back of its enormous mouth, for a furious fire blazed within it, the Eternal Flame driving the pit dweller beyond its normal limits. As it crashed into the water, all was silent. Only the enormous waves accompanied the Orks. But suddenly, the beast erupted from to the surface, taking over two dozen of the green skinned barbarians in a single gulp.Those who weren't rended to shreds by the teeth as they fell simply plummeted into the flame, at once erased in an instantaneous, but nonetheless violent death. Spikes erupted from the creatures armor as it twisted in the water, separating the Orks from their brethren, and separating others from their heads.


The woman called Azrael, the one who had this day lost her lover, gathered forces in the nation's capitol. Her anger was directed towards the savage Orks, but she knew that Dathron had to be defeated on the same front. Little did she know that the General of Dathron's vast army waited in silence, watching her for the opportune moment to strike. She was a cunning creature, deadly and manipulative, knowing the exact time to attack, the exact time to kill. Through the eye of her helm, the General spotted her prey and dove down, lashing twice with her whip, once to cut the demon wench and again to bind her wrist. As she fell to the ground, she grabbed the legionnaire spear from her back and danced around her enemy, keeping tight hold of the whip as she jabbed again and again with the electrically charged spear. A horde of legionnaires fell from the sky and surrounded the two, separating Azrael from any possible reinforcements. No one was coming to her aide.


Dathron watched as a man adorned in his country's flag fought for his life, and the life of his offspring. He was ferocious, fueled by the rage he felt towards his daughter's captors. The Keeper of the Pit called forth his loyal underling.

"Krulnak." he said to his lesser-god, "Seek out the soldier who fights for his daughter. He may just be the one to make the impossible choice. Test his strength. See how he fairs against an immortal."

"At once, my liege." Krulnak said with a bow. "And if he should fall?"

"If he can not endure your onslaughts, he will be of no use to me. If he is weak, show him the mercy of a true death."

Krulnak bowed before his god and marched off, his dark green and gold cloak trailing behind him on the wind.

As the armada drifted over New York, gradually moving North as it had since the beginning of the invasion, a shadow loomed over the Major. He was met with the sight of a half dozen legionnaires, hovering on their flight harnesses and gnashing their teeth, ready for a fight. Like a maelstrom, they swirled in the sky, only parting ways as Krulnak arrived, standing atop twin metal plates he held up with his thoughts. Wielding his red hot blade, he gazed down at the Major and pointed the sword towards him. He called out to his followers and cried, "To the kill!" With a grin, he swerved down towards his enemy, swinging his sword with deadly precision.


Dathron sat atop his throne, bathed in shadow. The humans were indeed proving stubborn, but their resilience through previous attacks was more akin to fortune. And with the coming of Dathron, that fortune had run short. Conquerors had come before him. He was no conqueror. Others proclaimed themselves gods, he had truly touched the seed of all existence, he had witnessed what lay beyond reality. They were mere fools with technology beyond their own reckoning.

As fate had told him, the archer came through the doors, precisely as was expected. His weak mortal frame even struggled to push open the massive doors. Dathron was silent. He waited for the one called Longshot to state himself.

"I want to negotiate for Earth." he said.

Dathron folded his hands before his face and answered, "That is not an option. This backwards race must see the light, like every other. You will realize in time that I am saving them."

"And the people who don't want your 'wisdom'? Are you saving them? Is that why you're rounding them up like cattle?!" Longshot's resolve was strong, even in the face of such overwhelming power.

Dathron did not speak. He simply rose from his seat and folded his arms behind his back. He walked around the back of the throne and gazed out the hazy, white-tinted windows. "Although mortals continuously demand violence from me, I never eradicate a species entirely. They have been gathered to understand the human. Thousands of them are tested so that we might catalog every detail of your species. How you live... and how you die. The rest are converted into my soldiers."

"You mean your slaves."

"They were not wise enough to accept my wisdom, and still, I give it to them." Dathron replied sternly, "They were not worthy of godhood, and so, they must suffice with servitude. Still, they are enlightened. They are more free now then they were as humans. Soon, you and everyone else left on the surface of this planet will understand."

Longshot stood frozen, but remained focused as he spoke six words that broke the momentary silence, “You won’t get away with this.”

Dathron kept his eyes fixed on the window, looking out over the Earth. “Hrmm… I have heard those words spoken in a million languages, by a million tongues, and it always ends the same way. Where I first hear resilience, I soon will hear begging. What blind entitlement leads you to believe that your world is any better than the ones I’ve conquered?"

Longshot had no rebuttal. Dathron turned to him and moved down the steps. "Perhaps you would like to bring some proof to your claims of superiority?" he suggested, "If you humans are truly strong enough to overthrow me, than you yourself should be able to defeat me in combat."

"That seems like an unfair fight." said Longshot.

"Very well." Dathron snarled. He unclasped his cloak and let it fall from his shoulders as he reached the bottom step, descending to Longshot's level. Still, he stood much higher than the lowly archer. They stood at opposite ends of the vast chamber, the air electric with anticipation. He clenched his fists and his eyes began to glow, burning with an intense light that overtook the room in blinding whiteness, then finally subsided, fading away entirely until his eyes were only a dim, lifeless red. "I have suspended my power." he declared, "Now, I fight you as an equa-" he was cut short as an arrow struck him dead center in the chest, exploding on impact. It was immediately followed up by another explosive arrow to the face, and they came in a steady stream until Longshot raced towards Dathron, leaped into the air and slammed both feet down into his chest. He bounced off, landed on his hands and flung himself upright again, met with a slap across the face that filled his mouth with blood and knocked him to the ground, sliding across the slick metal floors.

Longshot recovered as he heard Dathron approaching and swung a fist for his abdomen, but it was caught by an enormous gloved hand. It felt like punching a concrete wall. Longshot got a look at his opponent and realized that he was completely unharmed, not even the fabric of his dark blue tunic had been scathed by the attack. Dathron took firm hold of Longshot's throat and lifted him into the air. Longshot kicked frantically, taking hold of his opponent's outstretched arm as he gasped for air. Dathron's grip was far too strong to break, and Longshot could tell that he was drastically holding back.

"Pathetic." Dathron bellowed, his stern visage the only sight that filled Longshot's eyes, "Even on fair terms, you stand no chance. I see your fate, mortal, I see your past and your future and the deepest essence of your soul, so tell me, why does a murderer fight so hopelessly to protect life? Why do you, with such a history of cruelty and bloodshed, now sacrifice yourself to save the lives of vermin?"

"Because..." Longshot whimpered, struggling for air, "B-because... it's right"

"You have so very much to learn about right and wrong. I will teach it to you, if you accept one last offer... become a god. Simply stand aside as I claim this world and you will have divine knowledge, limitless power, and life eternal. Think of it, you could save the entire Universe... from itself."

"Is this, nnh... what you call... saving?" Longshot asked before, in resentment, answering, "I'd rather die."

Dathron dropped the mortal to the ground and walked away, gathering his cloak and draping it back over his shoulders. Longshot lay sprawled on the floor, taking deep gulps of air and coughing violently. The doors opened and a pair of legionnaires came, prodding the Hunter with their spears and shocking him until he lay on the floor, to weak to fight. They each took hold of an arm and dragged him off.

As he was dragged away, Longshot looked at Dathron as he stood at the steps of his throne, one leg on a higher step, arms folded behind his back in a display of dominance. "This isn't over, Dathron!" he shouted, "We'll find a way! We'll beat you in the end! You hear me, Dathron! THIS ISN'T OVER!"

Dathron watched passively as Longshot was dragged through the threshold. "A pity..." he murmured, "You would have made a fitting god."

#23 Posted by Jhentoh (240 posts) - - Show Bio

He didn't want to think it could happen here. But in the end, the plague of violence found him and the cycle started afresh. As the Ork vessels belched avalanches of the Greenskins out onto the surface and everything started turning to Hell, Jhentoh started to lose hope. Dathron's legion was a big enough problem. The Orks just made the situation worse like they always did. Screaming and howling for blood, the aliens met everyone and everything they could in battle. Jhentoh practically lived among them in his repeated tours of duty on Ork-infested worlds. He knew how to avoid them. The legion, however, was better focused than the ferocious green tide. They actually had a sense of direction provided by beings of lesser quality than Dathron, but who possessed tactical cunning and gave the legionnaires the gift of thought. Though they behaved more like a lash than a leader, these lesser gods were the driving force behind the horde. Furthermore, they were more powerful than anything else on the battlefield at the moment barring Azrael. Not even Bloodstompa could overpower them for long, though that did not stop him from trying.  
Jhentoh scurried through the dense wreckage of the hellscape once known as New York City. Bodies choked the streets. He had the stomach for such an environment, but feared that one of the Ork corpses could leap out at him at any given moment. He avoided the roads and subways as best he could. His fear of open spaces played on his mind and made him see and hear things that, often, were never there to begin with. The scream of artillery sharply brought him back into reality. His sleep-deprived eyes darted back and forth behind the visor of his re-breather. He thanked a higher power for the mask's excellent condition. Suddenly, something scrambled in the remnants of a dilapidated diner. Jhentoh shouldered his hellgun. That shell of a restaurant would be a perfect place to hide. Aiming between the front door and the blown-out windows, Jhentoh made his ponderous approach inside.  
He ducked through the broken glass on the door, remembering the first time he entered a diner and hearing a bell ringing above his head. He was almost arrested for shooting at it and causing the smoke alarm to go off. He looked down the barrel of his hellgun as he maneuvered his way through the floor of broken glass and body parts. Under each of the tables were people who tried to seek shelter here as well, but their corpses told a story of a bloody death. Jhentoh recognized the handiwork of Ork weapons as well as the thick iron-shod boot prints smashed into the debris on the floor.  Someone must had made a sound and the whole refuge turned into a slaughterhouse. Jhentoh found little else behind the counter and in the kitchen, the latter of which was where the most horrifying of the carnage had taken place. The smell of burned flesh and charred bone invaded his nostrils and he turned away, refusing to prod the situation there any further.  
Something moved inside the storage area. He moved his finger from guard to trigger as he turned the corner, finding nothing. The disturbing drumming of a can rolling on the floor met his eyes and ears. It had been sheared apart by massive claws. The sounds were coming from the office, disgusting slurping sounds and chirping. Jhentoh kicked the door open and opened a merciless burst of las fire at whatever moved, sending one of Dathron's legionnaires to the floor in twitching agonizing pain. His hellgun was meant to kill at close quarters with sustained repeating fire. He had stunned the creature and moved in with bayonet affixed. Stabbing into the monster's throat, he squeezed the trigger until his quarry's skull gave way and popped open, splashing his coat with gore. On his way out, he grabbed a napkin and cleaned his bayonet, muttering to himself incoherently.  
The doors opened into a one-way alley facing a bay area. Jhentoh couldn't understand the markings on the signs leading him to a large bridge, but he followed the inane screams of Greenskins somehow floating into the harbor. He picked up the pace in his legs and leaped over an Ork trying to stay on the ground using his thick claws to grind into the cement, but to no avail. Carpets of Gretchin turned into airborne hazards that, although confused, still used Jhentoh to try and keep from drowning. Their anchor hardly had any interest in appeasing them and kicked most of them away in vehemence. One of the smaller Gretchin, however, managed to hide away in his coat pocket with a panicked - yet relieved - grin on his face. Jhentoh kept his eyes glued on the harbor, but wished he hadn't. The waters churned and foamed as a leviathan rivaling those of the Tyranid Hive Fleets rose from the depths and swallowed many hundreds of sinking Greenskins in one gulp before diving and doing it again. The harbor became a stew of blood and insanity as the creature rose and plunged several times, making sure to devour or kill every last Ork it encountered in the water.  
Whatever that thing was, it could not be allowed to remain here even if Dathron's armies were destroyed entirely. Jhentoh did the only thing he could think of and tried to rile the beast from its home with taunts and sporadic hellgun fire. It hardly noticed him. He would regret the following decision of his for the rest of his natural life. He burst into a marathon run to the bridge and began to climb one of the massive steel cables supporting the structure. He took out his mono-molecular edged knife and sliced through the cable, holding on for dear life as he went from a relaxed vertical position to hanging upside-down waiting for the monster of his nightmares to leap up at his dangling form. His plan worked, though he wished it hadn't. Just as the monster opened its stinking maw, Jhentoh sheathed his knife and unpinned all three of his grenades before dropping them all down at once. The monster swallowed what it thought was part of its prey, opened its mouth for more, and howled in unimaginable agony as the grenades combined with the explosive power of all the stikkbombs it ate along with the Orks, killing it almost instantly as its entire body exploded. Sighing with something akin to relief, Jhentoh began his climb back up the steel cable.  
He kicked his foot over the edge of the concrete structure and slid into a roll back onto solid ground. Raising his head to greet glorious solitude he was instead met with one of Dathron's lesser generals along with a retinue of legionnaires. The Grot in Jhentoh's pocket shivered and tried to make himself somehow even smaller.  
"Lord Dathron has made note of your courage, Symaarian. You would do well to accept this invitation to become part of the Legion." 
Before he could answer, Jhentoh felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and blacked out.  
He woke up in a holding cell, his hellgun and knife nowhere to be seen. He was not alone as his eyes met those of another humanoid, though he assumed this was an actual Earthling. The red eye on his otherwise completely grey mask stared at the floor. Jhentoh decided against conversation and assumed a fetal position on the corner opposite his cellmate. The methodical hum of the lights above them and outside were the only sounds for a while. They were the only prisoners in the block, meaning the others had already succumbed or were forced into service. Jhentoh held his masked head in his hands..."WHERE'S MY RE-BREATHER?!" He choked.  
He scurried around the cell on all fours, looking anywhere from under the beds to inside the toilet. He ran his hands through his thick brown hair, gripping it tightly in confusion and anxiety. It not only provided him with a way to survive in hostile environments, but his re-breather was his security blanket. The only time he removed it before was when he had facial surgery after a Eldar shuriken tore out his right eye. He covered the wound with his gloves, trying to mimic the texture of the re-breather to calm himself down but to no avail. Suddenly, the Grot in his pocket appeared and gave a mock salute, much to Jhentoh's confusion.  
"Name Gub-Gub! Me help!" He said, pointing outside. It was then that Jhentoh noticed a small door used for prisoner meals, a hinged contraption that only a Grot could fit through. Smiling, he pushed open the door slightly and Gub-Gub maneuvered through it before darting off.  
Then it hit him - "I just helped an Ork. We're all going to die!" He hit his head, knowing he just helped something that could betray him at a moment's notice. The little bastard had run off to save his own skin and - there was a faint tapping, much too small to be anything more than... 
The Grot smiled, his tiny hands carrying a key card. Climbing the wall, Gub-Gub jumped over to the scanning mechanism and swiped the card as he fell. The door swung open and Jhentoh hugged the little Greenskin before putting him back in his pocket. Running in the direction Gub-Gub had gone to get the key, Jhentoh found not only his re-breather and hellgun, but a longbow and quiver he instinctively knew belonged to the strange masked fellow. Along with these gifts, however, came several angry guards roaring their displeasure at the prisoners' escape. Jhentoh started backing away, but found a reassuring hand slapping his shoulder. The masked man had the quiver clipped to his torso and his longbow in hand, his body trembling with barely-contained fury. Smiling behind his re-breather, Jhentoh opened fire along with the stranger, dropping the guards in short order to several barrages of unrestrained ammunition. 
"My name's Jhentoh, by the way." He said, sheathing his knife before extending his hand in friendship. 

#24 Posted by .Longshot. (5245 posts) - - Show Bio

Longshot was dragged through the halls of the ship by two snarling legionnaires, too weak to fight back. A lieutenant joined in, marching ahead of them as he examined a read-out on his wrist console. "Grah, pods and holding pens are full up." he snarled, "Looks like we'll have to kill 'im. No... wait... special orders from the Master. Take 'im to the personal cells. Conditions there're too good for a crott like this, but that's where we'll take the over flow. Seven billion o' these things!" The lieutenant lead the mindless beasts onward and they reached a small place in the pit of the glorious flagship of Dathron's seemingly endless armada.

The walls were lined with narrow cell doors and scraped by the nails of countless creatures being dragged to their fate.They tossed Longshot in and slammed the door behind him. The room was crowded. So many had been condemned to the fate of those who put them there. The conversion chambers, the massive holding pens, they had all become so horribly backed up with humans that the remainder were sent here. There were two beds, serving more as a cause for dispute among the dozen or so inhabitants of the cell. Longshot sat in the corner, waiting for the opportune moment to fight back.

Hours passed, and one by one, two by two, the others were carted off, kicking and screaming. The numbers dwindled, and by the time Longshot was alone, he was no longer awaiting a moment to strike, he was awaiting the end. Suddenly, the door opened and an unconscious man of powerful stature was dropped on the opposite end of the cell. When he finally came to, he raced around the room, saying something about his re-breather.

He only reached a calm when a little green creature crawled from his pocket and gave a salute before scurrying out of the cell through a hole in the wall. At this point, Longshot would usually pen this off as a hallucination, but compared to everything else he had seen in these last couple days, it was tame. The door opened and the two raced down the hall, reaching the round, open room that was the only entrance and only escape from the cell block. Longshot gathered his bow, belt and quiver from the pile of confiscated items, and the stranger took back his things. In no time, guards poured in, and the two of them quickly dispatched their opponents.

The man introduced himself as Jenthoh, and Longshot shook his hand. "Name's Longshot." he answered, "No point in wasting time with pleasantries." He grabbed one of the legionnaires spears and ran through the door back the way they had been dragged. More legionnaires awaited them and he fought his share, fully confident from what he had seen that the man called Jenthoh could fend for himself. He ran for what seemed like hours through the twisting labyrinth of steel, finally coming to a major holding pen, a horrid place where hundreds of people were crammed together, waiting for the conversion. He ran down towards the door, ramming the electrically charged tip of the spear into the locks. People poured out and he lead them out.

"Get these people out of here!" he ordered Jenthoh, "I'll get anyone else I can. Go!" With that, he and the stranger parted ways. Longshot raced through the ship in search of others to free. He took the communicator from his belt and tried to contact anyone from his team. He heard only static. The only conclusion was that they had all been captured, or worse.

Longshot emerged into the conversion chamber, an enormous room lit only by the industrial glow of the Eternal Flame. He was standing on a large catwalk that stretched the circumference of the chamber. Overhead, a seemingly neverending line of pods, each containing a subdued future patient, dangled and were moved along towards one of the many hundred operating tables, each manned by mechanical nightmares that committed nightmarish acts upon their subjects. Screams overpowered the roar of machinery, and Longshot nearly fell to the ground and screamed, but he knew the people suspended overhead, along with everyone else aboard this ship, were doomed unless he acted. He stepped towards the railing, but suddenly, a massive, heavily plated arm burst through the catwalk beneath his feet. He dove out of the way, but the reach of the enormous beast below him allowed it to clutch his ankle and fling him far across the room. He struck a steel beam and dropped back to the floor, utterly defeated. His bones had splintered inside him, blood dripped through the metal grating of the walkway and legionnaires gathered around him, carrying him off to the opposite end of the massive chamber.

The archer's consciousness became just lucid enough that he was aware of his surroundings as the snarling beasts lowered him into a pod, slamming the door shut over him. He looked up through the glass shell as the hiss of compressed air surrounded him. An announcement echoed inside in a mixture of languages, none of which belonged to Earth, but the general message was, "SUBJECT HEAVILY DAMAGED. REPAIRING SUBJECT." Suddenly, a bright light shined down on him. It burned like the fires of the sun, and he cried out in pain, but as the light dissipated, his felt the sting of his original wounds lessened. He was not entirely healed, but he felt partly renewed.

He could feel as the pod was lifted from the ground, turning upright as it took off on the rail with another in front of and behind it. It was only a matter of time now. Soon, he would arrive in the clutches of his enemies and be turned into one of them. In these last moments, he simply thought of those he had freed. Had Jenthoh gotten them to safety? Would anyone else be saved from this horrific end? Would Earth ever survive the onslaughts of Dathron and his pantheon? Longshot would never know. He would never see his world again. At least he had gone out the way he always known he would, fighting. He just wished it would end here. Death was preferable to what awaited him.

#25 Edited by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

Dathron had been called down to a place called London. There, he dealt with some of his most vehement opponents, now forced to their knees by the undeniable power of the legion. He dared not set foot on soil which still harbored heretics. He floated above the ground on a platform of scrap steel, a battalion of legionnaires following in perfect step behind him as a simple sign of the rebels' defeat. Soldiers already present in the city forced crowds of people to their knees before Dathron. The god came to a halt and floated, stoic in the stark silence of the cold, dark day of their defeat.

They looked upon him with utter hopelessness, and they were right to fear him. At last, with a booming, yet subdued scorn, he spoke, "I have given you an offer, and you have spat in my face. I have reached out to you with the promise of immortality, of infinite power and knowledge, and you insult me with denial. You lash out at me with unguided violence, then turn and call me a savage conqueror. Your brethren have paid for their insolence with their lives. Fear not. You will be with them soon." He slowly raised his hand, keeping the other folded behind his back, and shot an immense burst of the Eternal Flame from it, obliterating the first row of insects. His soldiers behind him began to march as he again drifted forward, giving every defeated Human in his path the only taste of true power they would ever know, just before the end.

As his execution was done, he returned to the flagship. There, he deployed his two newest lesser-gods to deal with one of the many annoyances on the Earth below. Among the factions that fought him, and fought themselves, were strange religious orders, cults clinging to their false gods in the face of an undeniable truth. These two humans had quickly become used to their power, and were ready to exterminate the heretics in the name of Lord Dathron.

The battle raged below, in the place called New York City. As always, the war came to its epicenter in the shadow of the flagship, and as it drifted North, it would follow him. The two gods fell from the sky, positioning themselves on opposite sides of the battlefield. The man, a remnant of the soon-to-be annihilated Earth nation of India, unleashed a full blast of the Flame from his eyes, a power that could scorch even the strongest armor, melt even the strongest steel. At the same time, he raised soldiers from the ground and flung them against each other with his thoughts, more than strong enough to decimate those who dared approach him by hand.

The woman, who had betrayed her brother, had voluntarily shaved off her hair and marked her scalp with the emblem of her Lord, the one true god, Dathron. She walked at an even pace through the chaos, never minding the bloodshed that erupted all around her. With a spark of the eye, the Eternal Flame began to swirl around her, a whirlwind of unequivocal power. She dispatched the rings, flying across the ground at intense speed and disintegrating all caught in their path. The rings immediately replenished themselves. The power of a thousand suns burned in her heart, and it would never die. These two lesser-gods walked towards one another, still so many left to slaughter, but it would take them no time at all. These two immortals would lay waste to armies.

#26 Posted by Serinity (163 posts) - - Show Bio

Noir looked to Serenity she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Then again neither could the daughter of Azra who spoke. "He's dead, Kaligar is literally done I can feal it. Could feal all my family and there location exactly if I wanted and it's not like he could be blocked out. He's blood and I'm no slouch. They took him, that big stupid f*cking ork took him." Her words were a mix of choked back tears and unbelievable boiling anger. turning to one of the few battle sisters remaining she nearly glared her demon half geting the best of her. The black eyes crying earlier now seamed empty. "Where going to bloody eradicate that planet I swear it, I want you to drop a orbital strike on that damn ork." The malice in the girls tone was not human the darker half was pulling her deeper and deeper. Both the Warp and the Navigator were followed by the first daughter and at this point the Warp was wining. She had been even spoken to by the Navigaror once, her faith was apsolute but as her fathers heart reached its end that vision faded. Avarice was all she craved.

Planet Side

Why? Why was it this creature never died? Her father fought him time after time and he kept going. Her mother had released a monstrous unholly attack and somehow. Somehow that brute lived. What made the idiotic beast so bloody special? What allowed him to survive the unthinkable. Of all the things to target the Roxom line Bloodstompa was the most agrevating. He was by no stretch the deadliest. That went to the one who had dwindled the population of the Symarrian Emperium down to roughly thirteen percent possibly less. Yet somehow it was this ugly giant who claimed her beloved father. Somehow this thing had claimed her fathers head. And even now when so many of the orks were slain by the large sea creature. When the creature died and the sea was filled with the merky black and red fluid the creature stepped forward and continued persuing the blood hair. Not many followed but the fighting was increasingly brutal on each side.

Human's Keresh and the Spine Eaters would fight against Ork and Legion troops seamingly without end. Five skirmishes had transpired sence her arival. Each time Skumgut pushed through. The conflict seamed endless  even with the numbers of bodies that virtually painted a trail the massive ork continued.  It was at this sixth conflict Serenity was fed up with Roxom familes nemesis. Unsheathing her large claymore she issued a charge, a violet assault. Truely if anyone had survived the brief skermish it would of been a thing of legend. Inspired by the first daughter of Roxom every soldier fought valiantly. Spine Eaters the alien symariean hybrids fought with energy weapons cuting through dozens before falling. The one unfortunate to assail the giant however simply had her head knocked from its shoulders. The xeno falling to the giant. Despite being one of the best legions imaginable and having unprecidented fighting skill they eventually perished.

The Keresh were an aw inspiring force. They depleated every ammo clip they had lethal and percise. Bodies droped continuously and when guns were dry they went to blades. There blade prowless almost rivaled the Spine Eaters. This was truely saying something as the Teres Morba were a clan of aliens that fought with blade alone and in their dimension before joining Az were wide spread and feared. The bucket heads and head tails worked back to back in beautiful imagery of violence but in this battle all died. It was likely only minutes long but for those involved it was the lengthyest fight in years. Sweat bedded every brow of every soldier. It was not just the alien forces though that gave it their all however. Having the moral boost of the Roxom child the humans as well put forth impressive effort. Shots were aimed and lethal. Bullets hiting weakest of places to score an actual kill. Cannon fire from tanks and the ocasional air craft sent clouds of dust and flame. Limbs hurled in every direction from the attacks. They in the end stood no bloody chance though. In the end it was numbers and though. It could be estimated every troop took a dozen plus for their life lost. Yet it seamed it was fifty to one odds at best death was unavoidable.

This conflict however housed one dual above all however. The fight between Serenity and Skumgut Bloodstompa. There were no words and even fewer seconds wasted in a stare down. The two simply exploded into a ocean of violence Ren had the dexterity dodging and weaving through the oncoming flurry of attacks. Stompa had strength and durability however. attacks that cleaved vehicles faired poorly against him. His power claw pushing her back every time it cought her monstrous swing. The giant was a boulder and she but a pebble being thrown towards it. Atleast so it seamed within her spitefull eye. The dual went on the entire fight almost with no give way on either end. Having been tossed backwards by a back hand that had the young Roxom coughing up blood black eyes looked to her fathers killer and readied for a heavier attack. All the while the respectably strong green skin did the same. She had no idea if the obnoxious creature had respect for his rivals. Ren however did, if her father died by this beasts hands it was an admirable death indeed. Mom may have hated it and Hex was likely crushed but Serenity could respect him atleast on a small warrior based level.

Charging the two swung all their force put behind a single swing. The very air around Serenity coursed with electrical curents from the warp and psychic energy. Fire flooded the airs a searing inferno melting most steel of the bodies at her feet. A raging blaze advancing forward blindingly fast. The ground cracked and shaked with every charging step of Bloodstompa. Each stomp was like the sound of coliding cannon shell the fierce strength the ork held in every placement of his foot. Leaping in the air Ren lashed out as did the gigantic individual. The sound of slicing air in both assaults. The two handed swing went for Stompa's skull when it hit the force behind it mixed with the solid thick hide of what it hit did the unthinkable the claymore made of adamantium or something damned close had shattered. She could of sworn she saw a neck guard break under the swing. The Roxom's left hand catching a tooth knocked loose. A saber like tusk it looked atleast in her hand. Of course Stompa didn't go without a effecient hit as well. The talons riped her arm free, they cut the limb off entirely. The claws scored deep scars on her neck thin lines runing up the right side of her face taking her eye. The air at such a flaming temperature cauturized the wound made any healing horrificly slow. Before the two could continue the bloody conflict however the Heretics Sythe released an orbital salvo that obliterated much of the remaining numbers. The shockwave though sheiled through telekenisis still launched the young woman far from the fray.

Death Comes To All

They say that in the times of war it was rarely the case the child buried their parrent. Rather that it was the parrent who laid the child to rest. Today proved no exception to the rule of thumb. The duaghter of Roxom fumbled eventually into the fight her mother was in. Ravek he was doing the leading of the troops. A constant violet storm as he issued commands in place of Azrael. Her mother had just been surounded, not wanting to lose another she charged. A knife entering her left hand the one that remained. The inferno of flame was still around her a charging speeding ball of orange hellish fire. A master with a knife and having such empeciable speed she was the singular creature that could get passed the lines. Her small blade percise as it weaved through the wall. The sharp whip used by the Legionair general snaped out and conected with Serenity and her midsection. The girl flopping to the ground in two seperate segments. Black eyes looking at the start of the fight admiring her valiant mother one final time.

That white haired beauty she admired, the singular parent she had left fought with vigor. Her wrist ensnared by the whip she danced between the snake like thrusts of the general. Having lost a child and her lover the demonic form of the usualy emerald eyed crimson haired beauty  stuck. A tug of her wrist to pull the creature forward as her free hand snapped forward with a stab as fast as her inhuman speed would allow. Following it the enraged demon vanished in a cloud of red mist releasing a colum of flame from her hands as hot as she could make it. No holding back at this moment this pain laced day or days that had received yet a cripling hour of anguish, she was a monster. The pillar burned like the stars her wrath like the fiery core that fed hell. And as Azrael dropped her blades aimed for murderous arcs at the generals skull the black eyes of Serenity rolled back. Whispers of darkness of untold ages, of the chaotic gods calling out to her.

#27 Posted by Soothing_Sounds (1718 posts) - - Show Bio


Joey looked around at the people staring up at him. A large group of people looking to him for guidance, leadership, and help. It was only around 400 or 500 people all gathered together in a museum that was left around to rot into the dust. Even so, he was a chill, relaxed person, not a leader. He was hoping to find the hero Longshot, but was sadly disappointed to find him, and many of his soldiers captured or dead, a small amount of people still littered around scavenging for any life, food, or water. They reminded him of sheep who had lost herder, so they came to him, even though he could be a wolf. He took them in, cared for them like they were already part of his group, while sending others on sneaky scavenging missions.

It was time for him and his ragtag group of humans to go on the attack, they had done everything they had needed to do. They've scrounged around food, water, healing kits, weapons, and people. Most importantly though, the people had said their good-byes to their family members, and had in their time of desperation become a family instead. They had already formed a unity, what's better, they formed a diverse unity. Of course there was the unity of different races, but more than that there were a few mutants. Where under normal circumstances they would be hated and rejected, here on the brink of humanity, they had fit in perfectly with the rest of the group. It was good thing too, they were young, children really, and like some other children they just recently lost their parents. They didn't need the unnecessary burden of being hated as well.

He had grouped them all here for a speech, as unexpected as it was. They couldn't just sit here and wait for others to save their planet, they had to do something to show that they were ready to fight . They also needed to get ready for this battle, and just throwing them out there to fight would be suicide. He wasn't gonna send them out to suicide, but he just couldn't do enough to organize a great battle plan. So the next best thing would be to raise their unnaturally low morals. He coughed and stood up as straight as he could, it was gonna be hard since he had just smoked marijuana. He did it, because that was the only way he would be able to tell his people what they were fighting for, why they were fighting, and, as bad as it would seem, the possible death it would cost.

"Hello everyone." Joey said with a dull tone. Come on man, what was that. He thought to himself. "Uhm, I'm not exactly made for this. I was, well actually am, a Rastafarian, before Dathron came, i was smoking on a hill watching a baseball game thinking it was the best day ever. How wrong was i?" Joey chuckled, everyone else was deadly silent. Joey, these people don't need a corny comedian, they need a leader. Joey put on his most serious face, coughed one last time, and gave it one last shot. "People, what i'm saying, is that i'm no great hero. I have powers, and i united you, but i don't have what made Abe Lincoln a great president. Or what made Mufasa the king of the pridelands. If anything, i would rather be led by all of you. But i also haven't lost anything like all of you have. I'm the most stable here right now.

"And that's why i lead yall." Joey started raising his voice, growing more confident with each word. "None of you are man made warrior's, none of you are Superman, or the incredible Hulk. You are all just people, put into another fight that shouldn't have came your way. But that's what makes this planet impenetrable, not the superheroes or the great warriors, but us. We make the will that makes our heroes, we have been in wars most of our life, we, as humans, are just animals. Right now, those heroes are failing us, too many people have fallen, too many friends and family members lost. We the animals have to fight back this time, and we the animals have been put into the corner. I haven't lost anything, but YOU all have. YOU, all have rage literally pushed past the tipping point, literally have lost everything. I'm just here to direct it, you are the ones ready to give it all up in one battle. Some people will tell you it's stupid to fight a war that belongs to you, some will say that those people wasted their lives for nothing, that you SHOULDN'T FIGHT BACK." Joey voice was at full blast now, his pride filled to the brim. "I'm not gonna force you to fight people, i would never force you to do something you don't want to do, but i am giving you the option. I'm giving you the option to fight with people you want to fight with, something you want to fight for. You might die, you might make this Dathron character surprised, but most of all you'll show the people who died for you, that you're willing to fight for them! You'll show them, that you're willing to rebel!" Joey finished off, breathing heavily from the long speech.

The group originally just looked at him, and then all at once, they started cheering for him, not a slow clap and start up, but one big thunderous clap. And it lasted all through the night, not the clap, but the thunder. It was the thunder of a party, perhaps their last time to have fun, and instead of telling them to prepare for tomorrow's battle by getting a good night's rest, he let them be. After all, they deserved this.


At the dawn of the next day, a large group was behind him, all armored up as best they could be, and all willing to fight. There were some children and women tucked away, people who would help heal them if they survived, or would live on if they died. He saw the legion, there wasn't as many as there was before, but they still flew over the city originally attacked. It was a good thing there weren't as many to, it would be a slightly easier battle. Joey said one thing, and one thing only before entering the battle, "REBEL!!!!!!" His band of warriors shouted along with him, and ran out onto the battle field, shooting into the air filled with monsters. He threw sound waves everywhere, taking out many enemies, as well as lifting the warriors morals. For a while it went smoothly, as it was basically a sneak attack, but then they regained enough composure to fight back. And for a while, Joey felt as if he truly was gonna lose. They started shooting their alien weapons, and coming down to the ground to fight. And it honestly seemed like there was too many of them, but then the tides turned. One of those mutants had reflecting abilities, firing back the enemies attacks. Another mutants was a literal giant, ugly too, but man his physical power was past impressive. And for every possible killing that could be made, those two mutants by themselves prevented it. And as soon as it had begun, it had ended.

They had won the battle, not a single monster flying through the sky for miles. And just like at the end of his speech, thunder began, and he didn't want it to ever end. But he knew it would, because this was only the rebels first stop.

#28 Edited by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

Dathron watched the world play out before him. Leaders gave rousing speeches, heroes fought for their people, romantics avenged their lost loves. They thought it made them special. They considered it the winning edge that would see them through this ordeal. In truth, it was playing out as it had so many times before, and it would end the same way. Everything was going along as Fate had designed it.

As always, they thought they were faced with extermination. In truth, Dathron wished, as always, to claim as few lives as possible. He only wished to enlighten them, but ignorant beings, when faced with knowledge beyond their limited reasoning, perceive ascension as annihilation. Still, if they resisted him, he would usher them their end swiftly and without hesitation.

The Keeper of the Pit saw, with perfect clarity from the skies above, as a man lead his people into battle. Dathron cared little for the lives of insects, but only a fool among fools would lead the weak and the tired of his world to fight. This was a man too selfish to see that he had promised these people glory only so he could gain it for himself. He had lead them into a slaughter.

By now, New York had been reduced to a desolate wasteland, only used as stomping ground for soldiers and madmen looking to make a name for themselves. The man lead his people in hopes of reclaiming the city. But what then? After taking back this mound of ash, already a nigh-impossible task, would these mere hundreds overthrow billions? Trillions? Would they defeat Dathron himself?

They fought valiantly, for vermin. Although only the enforcement regiments remained in New York, there was an unending tide of the beasts still left to do battle with, and more were being birthed with each passing moment. As they defeated the sparse number of legionnaires that stood to challenge them, Dathron paused for a moment. He let them savor their victory.

At long last, he took the order and more of the identical beasts fell from the sky, a swarm of rabid mongrels organized by the unanimous holder of their leash. They drove war machines upon the ground, and soldiers rode ferocious beasts that wove through the tight corners and leaped over rubble with such ease, tackling the refugees turned soldiers and ripping them limb from limb. A gray-skinned leviathan, featureless and stone-like, pounced from behind and took the massive human by surprise. Its size dwarfed his, and absorbing the blows of the man without care, the leviathan raised him above its head and drove its knee into his back, tossing his folded, broken body down on the others.

"Go, Syapt..." said Dathron to his lesser-god from miles away, "Go and deal with these rebels. Make proud your superior and prove your worth as a god."


Azrael fought back against the General. The fight had escalated quickly, and the General took a glancing shot of the pillar of fire unleashed by the demon. Her armor was strong, and withstood the attack, but her skin burned beneath it. No matter. She had known the fire against her skin all her unnaturally long life. She looked down at the spear, which had been caught in the path of the fire, and it was seared in half. She cast aside the useless half and flung the spearhead at her enemy.

As the demon swung her blades downward towards the General's head, the General flung her arms up between the demon's and forced them to the sides, redirecting her own hands to impact Azrael's chest with unrestrained force. She extended her arm and a hook shot out from the cuff of her gauntlet under her palm, turning downward. She reached around to Azrael's back and swept the hook, attempting to sink it deep under her ribs. After that, she pulled on the hook to lurch Azrael forward. The General bowed forward and nimbly swung her leg over her shoulder to deliver a devastating kick to the back of Azrael's neck.

With her free hand, the General reached out for Azrael's wrist to jerk her arm back at a painfully unnatural angle, thus forcing her farther into the dirt. "You know not what you fight, little girl." The General whispered maliciously, the fury in her eyes burning through the lenses of her cold black and red helm. "And now, in the name of the immortal Lord Dathron, you will die."

#29 Edited by Lord_Johnathan (3303 posts) - - Show Bio

Kargoth was having the time of his life. A midnight trooper fired it's disruptor cannon at the unstoppable death knight, a blue beam hitting him in the chest at point blank, but the ray simply deflected off of his chest plate and the undead warrior snarled beneath his helmet before slamming his foot into the ground with so much force that he opened up a fissure that swallowed an entire company of dathron's soldiers, sending them plummeting to their deaths.

As he advanced, a Broadside battlesuit fired it's railguns into it's front but the shells were met with and glanced off his shield, and a huge gout of hellfire from the Death Knight's face incinerated the offending broadside suit team, melting their armor into slag and frying their bodies. Vrakmul followed behind the military leader of the Black Hand, turning a midnight trooper inside out with a death magic filled gaze. The legionnare's body began to flay apart, a sickening squelch filling the air as his skin and armor came apart, his organs being ripped to the fore in a spray of blood.

With a final squelching roar, the midnight trooper was reduced to a quivering sack of organs around flesh, skin, and bones. Looking away and advancing, Vrakmul continue to advance. He grinned foully as the rubble ladened ruins of new york stretched out across as far as the eye could see, there was absolutely nothing living here that was not fighting for some faction. Looking at some dead bodies, Vrakmul spoke a few necromatic words, and they rose as undead to serve in the Black Hand's legions as negative energy flushed into their forms.

Rising to their feet, the newly created undead then loped towards their former masters, it was an eternal and brutal cycle, but it gave the Black Hand an edge in wars of attrition. He had decided to play his trump card, and had called forth a Black Hand and Electrical protectorate space fleet, not just any fleet for that matter, bu thte Black Hand command fleet, which had laid dormant for so long that a gas giant had formed around the massive saucer shaped command ship.

On the gas giant, the core of the planet received a signal borne by faster than light tachyons that penetrated down to something that laid at the heart of the planet. Within the core, which was a good three times the diameter of the Earth, an entire black hand fleet lay in waiting, piloted by nothing save for the Black Hand's deathless cyborgs kept in stasis, waiting billions of years for the command to mobilize. A command that had finally come.

Systems all across these huge flying saucer ships began to come alive, lights began to turn on, machinery hummed as power flowed through them again, their cyborg crews snarling with new life as they began to step out of their stasis chambers, their machinery whirring as they saw use once again. But there was still the matter of the gas Giant's core that they were buried in. The saucers began to detonate charges that rumbled through the core of the gas giant, blowing out portions of the solid core, shattering enough of the surface of the core to allow countless saucers of various sizes to tear their way through the gas giant's core.

But there was one ship at the very center, larger than all the others, that still needed to be released. As thousands of saucers began to fly out of the atmosphere of the Gas Giant, the core was caught in the grasp of a massive explosion that blew apart what remained of it into tiny fragments no bigger than a man's fist, revealing the enormous command saucer, as wide as the planet mercury, though significantly less massive due to it's shape, which began to rise.

Joining a significant protectorate fleet of Devastator Battleships, Interdictor Cruisers, Behemoth carriers, and other assorted vessels of the infinite army's mechanical hordes, the command saucer began to rise from the gas giant, followed by countless thousands of ships that came to life all across the ball of hydrogen and helium. To outside observers, it looked like an sea of grey, black, and red pushing out of the brown and orange of the Giant, like newly born parasitic life forms tearing their way free of their host.

Huge clouds of gas were pushed out into space, displaced by the rapidly leaving Black Hand and Protectorate fleet, forming the core of the Icon's navy, surpassed only by the fleet that protected the Planet sized Black Hand Crucifix, which Vrakmul deemed to be too excessive for this conflict. The fleet left the bowels of the gaseous planet and at once turned their weapons upon the world, igniting it's vast hydrogen clouds and blasting apart the entire planet in a cataclysmic blast that could be seen for light years before they entered hyperspace.

Departing from hyperspace beyond the Moon's orbit, the enormous Iconian fleet loomed overhead as they flew towards the raging battle above the earth's surface, with the master of the fleet, a Protectorate Eliminator designated as the supreme master of the fleet by Vrakmul at an earlier point in time, containing the essence of a protectorate core mind a.i, lay at the center of a vast web of intelligence.

"RE-PORT!" The Eliminator snarled in a monotonous voice that sounded like it had to choke down it's disgust for all things that did not serve the Icon. It's golden studs and reinforcement bars, along with it's crimson colouring where most eliminators were chrome, overlaid with the purple highlights, showed it's heightened status, and showed that it possessed massively superior technology to the ordinary eliminator, which was already perhaps the single most advanced and deadly form of elite infantry in the universe.

"FLEET HY=PER-JUMP SUCC-ES-FULL SU--PREME EL-I-MIN-A-TOR! EN-E-MY FLEETS IN RANGE OF LONG DIS-TANCE WEA-PON-RY, PLA-NET-AR-Y AN-TI-OR-BI-TAL ASS-ETS RE-PORT ACQUI-SI-TION OF TAR-GET DA-TA, THEY ON-LY RE-QUI-RE YOUR COM-MAND!." Reported another eliminator, it's glowing yellow eyestalk focused on the Supreme eliminator. The protectorate had encountered the Daleks in a distant multiverse long ago, and recognizing the supreme amount of fear that the beings who had very nearly destroyed the entire omniverse brought, the protectorate sought to copy their design, and improve on it a little, with mechanical arms jutting out from their backs and ending in pincers, two gunsticks jutting from their midsections, and two arms emerging from their shoulders ending in weapons modules, typically fractal ones. Otherwise, they were feature for feature, identical to the Daleks, save for one factor, the Organic creature in the shell.

"EX-CE-LLENT. THE FLEET WILL LAUNCH IT'S ASS-AULT! ALL HAIL THE I-CON! THE I-CON IS SU-PREME! THE I-CON IS THE MAS-TER OF ALL! " The supreme eliminator roared out in it's rumbling, deep, mechanical voice, with it's last three phrases being chanted by the cybernetic and mechanical icon fleet three teams each. On the surface of the Earth, Protectorate Starkiller Anti-aircraft vehicles and Obliterator superheavy artillery raised their guns skywards and began to target various Dathroni ships in orbit while the iconian spaceships acquired their own data.

"O-PEN FIRE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! ANNI-HIL-IATE! DES-TROY!" The Supreme eliminator growled, prompting the Iconian fleet to open up with a massive alpha strike, joined in by ground based anti-orbital elements. Having caught much of the Dathron fleet by surprise, the Iconian assault force wreaked terrible casualties amongst the legion, countless ships erupted in fiery blazes as their shields failed and their hull swere ruptured by this sudden sneak attack, which targeted communications firstly to sow mass confusion amongst the forces of Dathron, a massive amount of signal jamming being emitted by the Iconian fleet in orbit to cut off Dathron's forces from space based communications.

If successful, this would mean that Dathron's ground forces would lose any benefit of space superiority, as they would have almost nonexistent ability to coordinate with their fleet elements, a masterful tactic of Kargoth that was meant to isolate and divide the enemy and allow the battles to be fought sepearately. The Supreme Eliminator would guide the Icon's forces in the heavens above, while Vrakmul would lead the battle on the ground.

The earsplitting thooming of a battery of four starkiller anti-aircraft vehicles pumping fractal shells into orbit followed by the eruption of a Dathroni destroyer into a fireball that could be seen from the ground amidst the enormous lightshow that was playing in the heavens above confirmed yet another kill by Kargoth's surprise attack. But one of Dathron's "God's" presented themselves to the Black Hand's triad as they watched the space ship above explode like a miniature star for a while.

"You have quite the impressive fleet...very massive in numbers...You still have ninety five percent of your initial strength, though that number is falling...however, try to radio or vox your fleet elements..."god"...You will find them...safely out of your reach...Now "god" do tell me, you are a religious man yes? As are we...though we follow a higher power. We follow the embodiement of destruction. We prepare universes for it's coming, for it hungers and feeds on realities, and it thirsts and drinks thoughts. This reality is marked, there is nothing that can be done to stop it's arrival. For you see...it is coming...and it is already here...It has devoured more realities than there are grains of sand on every beach and every desert of every world. So why fight it?" Vrakmul said in a silken voice, his face hidden by his darkness creating cowl, a good thing, for what lay beneath the cowl was something so horrifiying that most minds would perish upon trying to process what lay beyond the veil. He wanted the Legion's God to see the effects of the possible jamming of their communications, which would allow the Black Hand to carry out it's hit and run attacks with virtual impunity.

"You believe that you follow the true cause...yes? You believe that you are on the path to enlightenment? But the hand knows the truth, as revealed to us by the Universe that hungers. This multiverse...it is flawed...it is sick...there can be no enlightenment, no perfection, in this sick multiverse. Your Liege's aims are admirable...but he goes about his task the wrong way. He cannot create order or a perfect system from a diseased and flawed creation. No, it must all be destroyed. People, Planets, and Stars must become dust, and the dust must become atoms, and the atoms must become....nothing. A wave of destruction that shall go across the entire universe, never faltering...never fading...then it must go beyond the universe into every dimension, every parallel, every single corner of creation. To attain perfection, you must destroy reality itself. Then, create it anew...start fresh...You cannot fix the system...you must destroy it all and allow something new to begin..." Nexatos said, the night gaunt priest turning his veil hidden gaze to the God, clutching a trident in his right hand while his wings flapped silently.

"Your young Lord believes that he has found the true source of power....but true power lies in destruction. To conquer something is temporary, and never complete, it will always wriggle out of your grasp. It will always defy you. But to destroy something is to rule it forever. To enslave someone is to merely own their bodies. To destroy someone is to own them, mind, body, and soul. You can never attain ultimate power except by destroying all that exists. Mere conquest can never truly bring about true knowledge, only through omnicidal devastation can the truth be revealed. A truth that will lead to a new...more honest...more perfect multiverse...See the truth of destruction, "deity" and embrace the holy crusade of perfect omnicide, a crusade brought to our ears by the blessed voice of the Icon." Kargoth joined in, the triad arranged in a inward curving crescent, with Nexatos to the left, Vrakmul at the center, and Kargoth to the right.

In the meantime, Johnathan was in the midst of pulling back from the advancing hordes of Chaos, whom had their own claim to this seemingly doomed world. But as he jumped over the wreckage of a burning Abrams tank, he came face to face with one of Dathron's gods. Taking out his shield and hammer, John prepared for a fight, keeping his wings folded to avoid creating unneccessary drag while his halo glimmered and encased his divine steel clad body in a force field. Best to let the deity ramble on about his master's glory and throw an offer to Johnathan to join his cause.

In the meantime, in Germany, the forces of Chaos were well into the process of setting up their great cathedral, built out of the bloodied corpses of their foes in a horrifying form of worship to the cackling deities of the warp. Here they had gathered four groups of sacrifices. One group of 9,999,999 Dathroni legionnaires and Black hand followers. One group of 8,888,888 Christians, Muslims, and Jews. One group of 7,777,777 Hindus, Buddhists, and Neo-pagans. And one group of 6,666,666 Agnostics and Atheists.

These followers of false religions would soon be sacrificed to the true gods. Standing at the head of this blasphemous sermon was an ancient and utterly evil Dark Apostle of the Word Bearer's legion, the most religious of the Chaos Space marines. "Brothers...Sisters...followers and worshippers of the True Gods of Chaos...we are gathered here to sacrifice these followers of false faiths to the true gods of Chaos. They claim their deities are the real and the strong ones, but they follow mere pretenders and liars, it is we who follow the path of true faith!" The Dark Apostle intoned, his metallic, booming voice carrying across the sermon.

"These 9,999,999 followers of the false Icon and the weak Dathron shall be sacrificed first. Tzeentch hates them for they have allowed their ambition to be used by charlatans posing as Gods. Khorne hates them for they deny the true glory of bloodshed in the name of real powers and fight with cowardice. Nurgle hates them for they deny his plagues and corrupt his blessed gifts to the ends of the faithless. Slaanesh hates them for denying themselves the true pleasures of life. Chaos hates them, for they are weak and alien or follow meagre alien deities. We hate them for their vile, weak, snivering enslavement to weak and false gods." The Dark Apostle said, raising a hand that prompted the gathered cultists to begin slaughtering the Black Hand and Dathron soldiers, captured in the wake of the chaos invasion, in a manner dedicated to Tzeentch, mutating them into hideous, mindless chaos spawn.

Once the butchery was complete, the 9,999,999 chaos spawn marched off to war in mindless hatred. "These 8,888,888 followers of the False abrahamic religions are gathered here to be sacrificed to the Blood God. Tzeentch hates them for they deny the power of sorcery. Khorne hates them for their so called peaceful religions that deny the holiness of bloodshed. Nurgle hates them for their vile debasement of brotherhood and family. Slaanesh hates them for their loathing of what is pleasurable and their hatered of excess. Chaos hates them, for they deny the existence of true gods in the name of one false and weak deity. We hate them, for they have taken the blessed form of Humanity and weakened it with a flabby and weak religion." The Dark Apostle preached, and at his command these were slaughtered in a manner dedicated to Khorne, a huge orgy of bloodshed that stained the ground red forever, organs and blood spilling all over in vast quantities, and bloodletters rising from the corpses and marching to war.

Looking at the fourth group, the Dark Apostle began again. "These 7,777,777 followers of Pagan religions are gathered here to be offered to the plague father nurgle, may he rot their flesh for all eternity. Tzeentch hates them for their ambition crushing belief in reincarnation. Khorne hates them for villifying war as evil and inglorious. Nurgle hates them for portraying plague as an evil thing, not something to be revered and welcomed. Slaanesh hates them for their shunning of excess and ecstatic freedom. Chaos hates them for they have had the wisdom to see that there are many gods, but follow all the wrong ones. We hate them, for they have turned their backs on the true power in favor of weak deities." The Dark Apostle went on, giving the order for these millions to be gathered up and slaughtered in a way dedicated to nurgle, their bodies being rotted and overcome with plague, turning them into zombies and nurglings who would march forth to join the legions of chaos.

And now there was one group left. Looking out at the final group, men, women, and children, young and old, handsome and ugly, cowardly and brave, sick and healthy, strong and weak, they would be offered to Slaanesh. "These 6,666,666 are the most vile of all...for they reject all gods! They deny that there is anything divine in existence! " He said, causing remarks of loathing to rise from the gathered followers of chaos. "These fools believe that either that no gods exist, or that it is impossible to prove their existence, and thus they shall be subject to the most heinous of deaths, they shall be offered to the Prince of Pleasure and Pain...Slaanesh! Tzeentch loathes them for they deny the supernatural and magic. Khorne hates them for their secular concern for life and love of peace! Nurgle hates them for their attempts at ending his cherished plagues. Slaanesh hates them for their attempt to distill love and excess into mere chemical reactions rather than blessings of the warp! Chaos hates them for they sin above all others by denying the supernatural, by forever denying chaos! We hate them, for they are the weakest of humanity! They are the weakest of all!" He concluded, and what followed was an orgy of excess, pain, and pleasure that is best left undescribed.

All that can be said is that when it was over, bodies were twisted in the most obscene and unnatural ways, and daemons of Slaanesh danced freely amongst the remains. "And now with this vast and glorious sacrifice to Chaos! We call to you Alphedon! We call to the true heir of Symaar! Come forth from the warp and take the flesh of this Seraph as your own!" The Dark Apostle concluded as a warp rift opened and the bound seraph Igzvald, the one who lead a full third of the Talon to join in worship of the dark gods, looked up to see what should be his possessor flowing into him and manifesting in the Materium to bring a new age of chaos.

#30 Posted by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

A representative of the Icon spoke to the lesser-god in an icy, malevolent hush. Channeling through his follower, Dathron spoke. "Destruction is a finite cause, little creature." he said, raising his hand as the Eternal Flame began to glow on his palm in the shape of his emblem, "This is the symbol of creation. Without creation, what would there be to destroy? Yours may be true conquest, but we have dominion over all as it was in the beginning, and you have dominion over nothing more than delusion. You wish to create emptiness, but that statement in itself is redundant. I am the emissary of creation, and you, of destruction. We were forever destined to be at odds, yet one is ordained by Fate, in every reality, to prevail. You call me young. I have walked in the fires of creation. I existed before time, and I will exist in its wake.You are correct in one of your claims. Reality is diseased. We are the cure."

#31 Posted by Ultraviolence (467 posts) - - Show Bio

"With the endless screams of Slaanesh, we call out to you. With the Seven Keys of Tzeentch, we unlock the gate between worlds. With the bloody Axe of Khorne, we pave the way. And with the Twelve Plagues of Nurgle, we sow the seeds of your ascent. Come to us, Everchosen, and lay waste to this world."   
"I listen to no-one."
With an explosion of flesh and blood, immaterial fire, the fluid of the universe became the physical manifestation of Warp energy. A daemon had emerged from the other side, reaching through the barriers of time and logic to be part of this material realm once more. His wings spread across the sky, blacking it out to all lesser creatures with a leathery span tipped with barbed hooks. No tail extended down from his spine, but fleshy ridges in the crude shape of hair slithered and writhed as if commanded by some unknown sentience. These were also barbed and the hooks were crowned with extensive skull trophies too numerous to count. Most derailing about this creature was the fact that his body bore the plating of armor once belonging to a humanoid shape, strange and accursed cult markings slathering its surface. As he took his first breathing steps onto the soil of the Earth, his very touch corrupted it. The air around him screamed and crackled in pain as his malignant energies tore into the very passage of time and space. Lesser daemons spawned at his feet, howling in insane hunger and joy that they had been unleashed. They divided the mass of cultists among their legions, claiming deaths for their patron gods. The sacrifices were tallied by the foreign gods who watched their greatest champion work and scheme.  
Again, the world trembled but this time with the passing of those weak mortals gathered before Aldeon. Their blood fed the summoning of a legion unlike any other. Rank upon rank of daemons in shapes and colors too varied to imagine all festering in physical form and temperament like a ripe sore flowed from the Warp following the scent of fresh blood through the cracks between reality. Some cultists screamed and ran, their faithlessness luring the daemons closer. Those who remained praying, offering their bodies and souls to the Dark Gods, were rewarded with mutations and powers far in excess of mortal limitations.  
Aldeon observed his loyal followers with a listless gaze. Then, he caught the familiar stink of Ork flesh. Turning to face him, he found a quick swipe across his face with a power klaw to be his only answer. He responded in kind with a thunderous mountain of flesh others would call a fist being lowered into the Warboss's body and then through him into the ground. Drenched in thick black blood, he pulled his fist back and witnessed the result of his handiwork. Entrails popped and splattered across the soil. His very touch caused the corpse to boil. Aldeon noticed a familiar trophy in the Ork's collection, one he also obsessed over: the head of Kaligar Roxom. Plucking it from its resting place, Aldeon began to inhale an essence that existed between worlds. Slowly, it became more corporeal and visible - Kaligar's very soul, stretched and screaming. Swallowing it, his innards began to burn. He regurgitated the product of his strange magics and in his hand as he once again faced his followers was a large black mace gripped with thorns and writhing as if it were alive. A single jewel adorned its surface: a blood-red ruby on the bottom of the handle that churned with its source of power in Kaligar's soul. Aldeon smiled.  

Raising his new weapon, he brought it down with such force as to break into the heart of the Earth, spilling its life-fluid into the atmosphere and taking down low-flying Ork vessels. He went back to conjure something new and terrifying using what remained of his Warboss victim, but found that his body was gone. A trail of fluids led to a distant light he knew was an escape ship, but he hardly had time to give pursuit. A pillar of flame caught his attention as an old foe began an uncontrollable rampage. His main concern was not Azrael, but rather the condition of her daughter Serenity. On Ferravius, Aldeon felt that Serenity was potentially more violent and chaotic. He had toyed with both of their minds and found Serenity's to be more entertaining. He went to her body and began to play with her soul while it tumbled between realities within the Warp. His very touch began to corrupt her corpse and the whispers of Slaanesh called out to him as she began to regenerate. He ignored the Prince of Pleasure's perversions for now and bartered for Serenity's soul, offering those of the thousands of cultists mercilessly cut down by the daemons of other gods. It was a steep price, but Slaanesh gave in to the sheer quantity of playthings Aldeon offered for the quality of Serenity's unspoiled soul. With life breathed into her once more, she found herself twisting and writhing in absolute agony. Aldeon gripped her by a handful of her hair and held her up for Azrael to see. Serenity, no longer recognizable, melted away into something suiting a follower of the Everchosen. Her fair skin dissolved into a corpse grey, which highlighted her new burning yellow eyes making them seem like wildfire.  
"The Imperium is dead! Chaos will take its place and this reality shall burn!" 
Serenity broke out of his grasp, wailing in a feral mixture of pain and pleasure.  
"Will you join me, daemon-spawn?" He said, pinning her with a massive foot.  
Her reply, intermingled with the gasps of agony and ecstasy, was an unquestionable "YES!"  
#32 Posted by Lord_Johnathan (3303 posts) - - Show Bio

Sensing the change in the air that heralded the arrival Aldeon, Xraghoul decided that he would honor the everchosen by embarking on a vast slaughter across the North American continent. Advancing through the inferno that was New York city, walking through the all consuming blaze that raged endlessly through the ruins of the city. Lightning crackled as he lead his warband forward, flashing across the sky as a stream of missiles launched by plague marines blew apart a Talon clerick track, with Xaraghoul himself charging at a Nepharim walker and slicing his daemon blade in a wide left arc, hacking the machine's legs off and then jabbing the fist of the black legion upwards to wrench out the pilot of the vehicle. "Weakling scum!" Xaraghoul snarled as he threw the talon pilot away.

But the warmaster of Chaos sensed a powerful presence, and he directed his faithful terminator guards to follow him as he pursued the presence. He saw a winged Talon soldier with the reek of sainthood about him in the midst of circling around one of Dathron's pets, sizing him up as an opponent. "Hahah...two worthy adverseries! Come forth lickspittles, face me in glorious battle!" Xaraghoul said as the 413th Talon company turned to deal with this chaos space marine company that charged towards them.

As Dathroni, Chaos, and Talon soldiers collided, pure, uttter, bloody chaos soon broke out. "FOR THE DARK GODS!" Many of the chaos space marines snarled out, to be met with "IN DOMINUS IMPERATOR!" From the Talon Knights. Lesser beings, mere ordinary foot soldiers, also joined in the conflict, but Xaraghoul was primarily interested in this battle between gods of war. He had gone on for so long without a worthy opponent that he just relished to spill the blood of a worthy enemy in the name of the blood god.

As Xaraghoul charged forth, he backhanded an intervening Talon footman, whose body exploded into a shower of gore as the fist of the black legion smashed through his body. Continuing his charge, Xaraghoul stabbed Kral'krar into the chest of a midnight trooper, igniting his soul and consuming him utterly as the bound greater daemons hungrily lapped at his spirit and swallowed it whole. Turning around to see the colossal black armored Warmongering Chaos Lord charging at him, John brought up the shield of the lost paladin to deflect an incoming swing from the fist of the black legion, the mighty power talon carrying so much force behind it that john stumbled backwards no less than five feet.

Turning to the lesser God, Xaraghoul swung his massive daemon sword in a low arc at the woman, the blade screaming and thirsting for her blood as John leapt forward at Xaraghoul., bringing fortht he warhammer of richard, only for it to be deflected by a energy shield that formed rapidly as a transluscent black bubble. Taking a swing to the left with the hammer, John struck at the lesser god as Xaraghoul brought his sword towards John in a massive stab as a flash of lightning thundered in the background, cracking the air with it's thunderclap and the fire in the distance roared to life.

Parrying the blade with one of his divine steel wings, the valiant saint made a forward shield bash towards the armored giant. But simple Inertia meant that Xaraghoul only stepped back once before retaliating with a series of doombolts launched as part of a psychic assault, some of which John blocked with his shield, but two of the brilliant blue bolts of warp energy caught him in the waist and exploded, sending him flying for a good distance while others flew at the lesser god.

John rolled to his feet and fired off a three foot wide blast of holy light before generating a series of miniature tornados, aiming to deal with bioth the lesser god and the warmaster. But Xaraghoul slammed the fist of the black legion into the ground, rooting himself into it and preventing him from being launched by the tornados while he simply weathered the beam of holy energy through sheer toughness. Taking a look at the lesser god, Xaraghoul aimed his twin barelled reaper autocannon and let fly a cascade of 100mm high velocity shells imbued with warpfire to allow them to melt throughv irtually any armor and burn the soul to ash.

At this point, John came and stabbed at Xaraghoul with the spear of Longinius, causing the giant to stagger before backhanding john away with the fist of the black legion. John got to his feet again and fired off a blast of flame, manipulating the raging inferno all around to attempt to engulf the lesser god before a series of havoc missiles launched from Xaraghoul's shoulder mounted racks exploded all around John, showering him with shrapnel and forcing him down.

Xaraghoul made a massive downward slash with Kral'krar at the lesser god, bellowing forth dark praises to the gods of the warp in the language of High Gothic, bastardized with elements of Daemonic. Deciding that his shield would be of less use in this fight, john exchanged it for a second weapon, the warhammer of richard. Charging at Xaraghoul anew, John swung the white hot sword of constantine at the lesser god before making a sweep with his bladed colockwerk wings at Xaraghoul, who blocked it with his power field surrounded power talon before kicking John in the face and sending him sprawling.

But as Xaraghoul moved forward to stab his blade downward into the earth and impale John, the boy knight rolled to the left and sliced at his knee with the sword of constantine, awarding him with the flickjering of his shield and prompting Xaraghoul to let loose a massive series of fireballs aimed at both the lesser god and Johnathan, who weathered them with ease due to his immunity tio fire. Taking out his gatling gun, John responded with a storm of adamantium bullets that were superheated until they glowed white hot.

Taking some measure of cover behind some rubble, Xaraghoul responded with his own devastating barrage from his reaper autocannon and havoc missiles before following up with another cascade of doombolt, aiming this devastating volley at both John and the lesser God. All around there was death. A chaos terminator grabbed the head of a Talon brother-knight with his power talon and squeezed, crushing the knight's head into a gory pulp before sweeping his combi-bolter around to blow apart a squad of talon footmen.

A talon automaton stabbed it's blade into the gut of a chaos space marine, lifting him up and then forcing him into the ground with enough force to bisect him. Lascannons screamed out from a predator tank and lanced through a angel track, blowing holes through it. Brother thule grabbed the sarcophagus of a cchaos dreadnought and yanked backwards, tearing the dead marine out of his ambulatory shell . All around, people were still fighting and dying, all for a burnt out shell of a city. To the forces of chaos, especially those who venerated Khorne, there could be no greater place.

#33 Posted by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

Cannon fire pelted the lesser-god, Rajesh, and he endured. Blood ran down his cheek, but the Flame began to glow and the wound sealed. He withstood a flurry of attacks from the demon and the saint alike. Over and over again, they struck him. On occasion, they even made him bleed, a feat to be admired, but he swiftly healed. Suddenly, a whirlwind of fire encompassed him. The heat licked at his face, and as it cleared, he looked up at the beast and said, "You wish to burn me?!" He waved his hand at the saint to lift him off the ground, then closed his hand in a fist to cave his breastplate in around him. However, he did not turn his eyes from the beast. "In my heart burns the Flame that birthed all things! You cannot scorch me, demon!"

He reached out for the creature and placed his hands at either side of its head. "Let me show you true power, heretic. One last blessing before you die." Rajesh snarled, staring deeply into the eyes of his foe. With a powerful roar, he unleashed the Eternal Flame entirely, letting it burn the air itself and sear anything even caught in its golden aura. And at the epicenter of the devastatingly focused blast was the head of the demon.

Meanwhile, Martha, the other human crowned with the majesty of the Pit, intensified her efforts in obliterating the armies of saints and sinners, working her way towards her fellow god, wading through a sea of enemies, a sea of ash.

#34 Posted by Syapt (263 posts) - - Show Bio

The guards neck snapped, it tried to tell her she couldn't enter as she worked towards aproaching Dathron. A long ornate spear was aimed at her throat the head a variation of the gods emblem. Her hand had snapped out and quickly torn the weapon in two and wedged it into the Legionair's armor piercing the heart. Snaping the creatures neck the armored woman pushed the door open. The heavy door slaming as it colided with the wall with a thundering crack. The god like individual never bothered to look at her dispite the loud opening. "Armor..." the figure spoke his voice echoing in the halls. "Armor is for the warrior who doubts their own strength."

Syapt raised a brow in question but the blond stoped at the doorway. She was trying to judge the playing fields aproaching Dathron was unwise. "Or simply added reinforcment. Why should my blood spill by lesser things?" She remarked in retaliation. It was hard to hurt her in the first place the armor made it even harder. For her to feel a semblance of pain someone would have to deliver enough damage to fracture the almost impervious armor and then hit her with similar force. Combating her was almost borderline idiocracy as far as Evie was conserned.

"I require no reinforcement. Then again, I am no warrior. I am the emissary of the Eternity Pit, the center of creation, the source of all power, beyond time and beyond reality. If you are to join my cause, if you are to join me in spreading the Supreme Vision, you must swear unflagging allegiance. So tell me... are you deserving of godhood?" She took a moment to consider his offer. Evolution was her first and formost ability in theory all she needed was to get the flame and it would be hers forever. The build up of her atoms would take it in and reconstruct DNA making the change permanent. Granted there also was no need to instantly be against Dathron, she could spare her friends if needed. And so her response was finally made.

"Much as I label myself the avatar of evolution, I'm not its god. I am still but a warrior and wish to become more. I seek to be the emissary, the catalyst of power rather than the blind holder." Sya  took a step into the throne room, then gradually made her way towards him aproaching the throne. There was a lust for the aw inspiring power behind the god but her stance never wavered. Hex her mother and Erebus played a major part in telling her how to look to people. Kneeling wasn't her and was seen as disrespectful and demeaning. She stood in confidance and pride as she made her decision. "I wont bow and lower myself. I should be a god amongst gods. However, I relinquish my freedom of choice to pledge allegiance to the supreme ruler's vision."

His eyes glowed like the stars ever overflowing with cosmic energy. "Very well, child." Dathron spoke the ship shaking as godlike power was summoned. The tiles shifted to his will forming into a platform for the two to ride upon to traverse the ship."You have all of time to learn obedience, and all the cosmos to call your domain." They floated above the various Legion forces as they reached the wall. Fire floating in his hand before passing into her and with that she arose reawakend by the Eternal Flame a final statment made before it was time to persue a target to go after. Eventually and arguably enebitably it was time the god like being went to confront those below. The violent storm soon to be confronted not by Legion forces or one of the many conflicting forces but rather gods. "Go, Syapt..." said the deity. "Go and deal with these rebels. Make proud your superior and prove your worth as a god."

Entering the city the rebels were fighting in she couldn't help but smile. They had resisted the growing number of threats. Fought hard and eradicated the enemy for a time actually free of war. A new force though was only a matter of time before coming into the conflict. With them came Evie her slender perfect build clad in very little. She was a artificial human designed to be a beautiful unparallel creature of perfection. Blond hair and bright neon green eyes looking over the battlefield. Her suit a mix of black and gray covering most of her except her arms and head but skin tight. Accenting her frame a bright glow like that in her eyes seamed to seep off of her like an aura. With the flame apart of her she now had complete control of her abilities it would only be emotional stress that caused her to go haywire. Outside of that she was calm, adapting and always going to be a living arsenal of power. Looking at the rebels she spotted the apparent leader and prepared her offer. First of course required a strict display of force something to prove to the young man who he was against.

A snap of her finger that was all it took to obliterate a building. A nuclear explosion obliterating the metal and concrete that held the building together. Rebelious forces blown apart simply erased from existance. Pulling that violent energy back into her hand she chaneled it into a solid beam of flaming energy. The eternal flame simply erasing a group of people next to the leader. Not ash simply gone god like energy stripping them from the world. Floating in mid air a foot off the ground she aproached the heroic figure. Soothing Sounds six inches taller than her african american desent she believed and a drug addict. Least those were the small brain waves she was picking up with dormant telepathy. Sound was completly his to control shame really. She allready had that ability set would of been fun to get some new skills but oh well. Evie pressented herself rather formal ready to redirect any attack that might be thrown at her premature. Rebels were rebelious after all no way to not be sure they wouldn't fire blind just hoping to keep luck alive.

"Soothing Sounds right? Names Syapt and I am giving you a proposal. You are going to be given two three chances to prove humanity is worth my time, I highly doubt you can beat me but you have a chance. If your worth my time then I will aid you in ending this trouble I can do just about anything Dathron can as soon as I confront him. However if you prove to be a waste then Im going to simply kill you. A blatant atomic bomb that ends your existance prove that rebelion is wise and your a hero. Or atleast you will have me ready to hook you up with the best meth high possible. Fail or refuse offer and it will be over to swift for you to have a single regret. Her soft enchanting voice carrying over the sounds of battle. "Make your move."


#35 Posted by Soothing_Sounds (1718 posts) - - Show Bio


As Joey stood there pondering the future of the rebellion, a new swarm of enemies came to attack. And with their attack, came many things. Perhaps the most important thing, was surprise. They hadn't prepared for this. They had thought that maybe Dathron would leave them be, after all what could a few rebels do. They were wrong. Their soldiers rained from the sky, bringing with them even more firepower. If it had been in the middle of their first battle it wouldn't have been so bad, Joey had prepared for their loss, and had made plans to escape beforehand. This though was completely unexpected, and the rebels only had so much time to reorganize themselves.

By the time they had finally reorganized themselves, a large portion of their forces had been decimated. That included their mutant titan, who had been crushed by one of Dathron's own giants. But that didn't mean they would give up, in fact, that only made them fight harder. They were put into a corner, and like the animals they were, they fought hard to get out of it. And even though he knew they were fighting a losing battle, he looked upon them with joy. They weren't his children, they weren't even really his soldiers, but they were the things that he had dreamed about seeing. They were heroes. They fought because they had faith they were going to win, even now in this moment of darkness and probable defeat. Joey thought nothing would bring him out of of his trance of happiness.

Then the building where the other survivors were held was destroyed. And for a moment, his heart started sank to a new level of low as he saw a powerful goddess drop to his location. Different emotions and thoughts started running through his mind, sadness, rage, failure, worthlessness, confusion, and weakness. But not fear, never fear. Even as the goddess decimated a group of rebels beside him, he still looked on with no fear, ready to fight the goddess if need be. Ready to fight alongside the heroes on the battle field. He didn't know if he could beat her, or if he could even penetrate her defenses, but if it came down to it, at least he would try.

Luckily, it didn't come down to it. And for a while, it seemed that it was just the two of them on the battle field. She was a beautiful creature, perhaps one of the most beautiful women Joey has ever seen, but it was her voice and her message that got through to him the hardest. Her voice sweet, silky, and filled with pride. Her message being one of possibilities. He heard everything she said, but could only comprehend it on a basic level. When she finished, he smiled at her with respect and gave his reply, "You disrespect me and my culture, meth is bad for the soul beautiful. My "drug" of choice is marijuana, the plant of happiness." Joey said with humor in his voice. "As for your offer..." Joey's smile saddened a bit, innocents and warriors who fought beside him had been killed by this woman. It had been a display of power, that he knew, but he also knew that somewhere within her heart she was showing a large amount of compassion and care. He also knew that they needed all the help that they could get, and that the possibility of them winning this war without her was zero. "Just tell me your name and give me a bit of respect, and i'll do whatever you want,"

#36 Posted by 614azrael (10306 posts) - - Show Bio

Princess Of The Warp

It was minutes and it was centuries the time lapse a strange thing to bear witness to. Blessed by both the Navigator and thus devine light and the Warp that blissfull darkness her soul lingered in limbo as the sides fought for dominance. The body had seamingly vanished from where her mother fought and appeared before Aldeon. And slowly as the hellish forses seeped into the world energy began to flood her remains.Souls by the hundreds likely by thousands were given for Aldeon to have his way. And soon the gods and the warp itself had bound her back to her body. Her lower half forming back to normal in a grizly display of blood and flesh and the pearly white substance of marrow. Her body fell into shambles giving way to a new form. Her skin was the color of a corpse her slender tone build acented only by leather and chains. Metal barbs and shackles seamingly extruding from flesh. Her yellow eyes stood out against the ashy skin tone. And her hair hung wildly. The man before her spoke and in pain and joy she answered.

Her ghostly frame was beneath Aldeon's heal a boot planted with crushing force just below her upper chest and weighing down on her ribs. A painfull but excited cry of aproval parting her black lips. Serenity wasn't going to stay beneath anyones boot though her body decomposed in a radiant pool of blood and darkness around her chest. The grim look folding into it's normal frame as she rose to her feet. Every action she embarked in was a cross between sensual and foul.  Her fingers ran across Aldeon's cheeks intimantly almost loving. From her touch though flesh rotted and burned away. "Im not going to confront the family yet. Thats better for when we seek to end all thats left of Symaar . These creatures though that would slow us down there going to bleed." Her words carried across the winds heard by anyone that was of his force. The voice a faint lustfull whisper like a lover whispering in ones ear. The sound twisted minds stabbed into their psych and made individuals want to apease her.

Kneeling over slightly her lips touched the mace. That tainted weapon her fathers soul was now binded in. She smiled malliciously as she pulled away from the weapon. "You never looked beter." With that she began to venture towards the various forces. Things burned and decayed with every step. The air around her seeming dark and omynous no matter what brightness that seamed near by.

Demons Focus

The armor of her daughters killer burned glowing from the heat but not gone. The skin burning but far from enough to realy harm the general with its glancing shot. Mealting the spear the remaining end was hearld at the grieving demon her anger boiling over. Grabing the metal rod with magnetic abilities she spun it and hurled it towards the military leader. The rod aimed for the womans eye traveling with a high speed. If she was lucky enough to score a direct hit it likely would impale the opponents skull. Scoring such luck though was rare. And so much rare if your enemy was some alien god like deity. It didn't matter though, she would kill this woman. She would find herself drenched in her blood. The general barely even noticed the death of Serenity. Az did though and she would ahnilate every bloody godforsaken individual responsible. She could feel the warp boiling into reality in the distance, it didn't matter. Her mind drowned in vengeance and pain only sought ruin.

Her blades swung towards her but with unparallel speed and grace. The kind that you couldn't give or earn. It was a gods grace the rare resistance someone that out did a individuals training. Pushed back the general of Dathron's army a small hook shot from her hand artfully twirlin and jabing into her ribs. A sharp tug and the demon was pulled towards the earth. Her body crashing into the surface at the same time the general swung her leg over her shoulder. A fierce feeling of steel conecting with her neck. Armor gave way and if not for the crimson steel she might have had a broken neck. A sharp grab of her wrist the general forced her into the ground further. The pain though excited her, the rush of it exciting. In this dark hatefull state pain was luxurious."You know not what you fight, little girl." The General whispered  fury blazing in her eyes. "And now, in the name of the immortal Lord Dathron, you will die."

"Egotistical jack asses" she remarked turning her armored arm she heald into a sea of spikes. A gauntlet made swift and with enough force to pierce a tank. Her elbow thrusting backwords with metal smashing force. The shot aimed at the generals ribs and spining the demon to her feat. Landing she would aim to shoot every spike on her left arm towards the woman. Aimed to riddle her with spikes. She was far from done though her rage was driving her every thought. Her hand went to the hook that went through her armor and into her rib cage. With a sharp tear it was pulled free fresh blood splashing across the ground. A sharp pull and she attempted to send the woman forward directly into the blade which was aimed to  drive into the generals helm. Directly between those burning eyes of hers. The emerald infernoes locking with the other ones. All the while she was crushing metal of anything not hers. Attempting to grind every Legion force near her as well as the general fighting into her, into a bloody paste.

#37 Edited by Emperor_von_Doom (3120 posts) - - Show Bio

The Warp is a fickle thing... 

Kaligar wrenched his hammer free of the Keeper of Secrets' pearl-white skull, its flesh burning and corroding away in thick wisps of ash. The item of his ire rested before him. An odyssey thirty thousand years in the making had finally come to its end. Countless battles and foes piled before him, hungry for blood and death. He met them all with steely determination and a punishing crack from either thunder hammer or power fist. The relic of his attentions was a pyramid of solid gold, a portal device preserved for some unknown task. He took it up in his armored hands, his hammer hooked into its sheath at his belt. He looked into the shape's hypnotic glow and felt his mind pricked and prodded with the whispers of Slaanesh. He focused and fell into a trance-like state, sapping the will of the youngest Dark God until his own prevailed for a fraction of an instant. With that determination, the device exploded into raw Warp energy and cascaded uselessly to the ground, a gilded shell of what once seemed irresistible. Kaligar stared into the gaping maw of the Warp, unsure of what to do yet instinctively moving forward. It was thousands of years since he had seen such a thing, but his feet shuffled powered by adrenaline - this was his only way home.  
Praying for the Navigator's guidance, he stepped through. 

---Three hours following Aldeon's emergence--- 

A portal leading from the Warp rivaling the size of a Black Crusade fleet exploded from out of nowhere, bruising the material of space as its contents spilled outward. Battle barge after battle barge and space hulk after space hulk made their presence known behind Dathron's armada. Seventeen space hulks made their ponderous approach into war, their ancient guns creaking into position to unleash Exterminatus-class firepower upon their targets. The largest of these vessels carried a strange livery, but a familiar name - the Hammer of Retribution. Aboard this immense behemoth of a space craft, the God of War himself waited to be ferried into the heart of the growing conflict. Entire planets-worth of Guardsmen long thought dead in the Warp had resurfaced with him, explaining the need for such a large presence of ships. Upon first recognition that they were within range, shells the size of houses emerged from barely-visible blossoms of white-hot flame as Dathron's legion experienced their first taste of true Symaarian firepower.  
Kaligar barked his orders wildly as the inevitably fierce counterattack was organized. One-thousand of Dathron's finest lesser gods swarmed at the ships flying Symaarian colors. Battle barges carrying city-sized invasion forces kept most of them at bay with concentrated lascannon fire, bursting their eyeballs and cooking their insides before their superhuman bodies could recognize pain or the sensation of a slow death. However, hundreds of them still managed to break through the defensive wall of smaller space craft and aimed themselves specifically for the space hulks Dathron recognized as the much more potent threat. They pierced the thick armor plating of the vessels only to realize that they were much larger and far from tame. Daemons, Orks, and Tyranids still roamed them at leisure save for the Hammer and Dathron's lesser gods were hard-pressed to survive the hordes of foes attracted to their presence - let alone destroy them. They fought on with a stoic and almost emotionless glaze to their eyes, ignoring wounds and pain until they fell hacked to pieces or managed to activate a strange ability locked within their souls that caused their surroundings to explode violently. The fires of creation consumed two of the hulks and every soul - damned and innocent - within them.  
Kaligar noticed twelve of them pierce the hull of the Hammer, using their superior strength to break past the void shields despite irreversibly burning their hands. By what process eleven of them perished Kaligar dared not dwell on, but one did make it to his control room. With a punch that would have leveled everything above and underneath a mountain, the lesser god broke the sound barrier trying to decapitate the Symaarian warlord. Kaligar caught his hand within the confines of his power fist and squeezed, tearing the god's arm from its stalk. Stunned, the creature had no defense from Kaligar's hammer as he pinned him underneath its head.  
"I'll admit that you would have killed me if we had fought prior to my return. However, even your master is no match for me now. I have gazed into the same fire he crawled from, at the Edge of the Universe. Total chaos brought me there so that I could return here. Remember that you chose poorly when you sided with such garbage."  
With those final words to contemplate, the lesser god found his own dismembered arm forced down his throat until the bone pierced his heart and continued until it popped out the bottom of his sternum. Following his death, the creature evaporated into corporeal ash as an inner fire consumed him into nothing and then vanished. 
"I know you can hear me Dathron. I count 960 of your lesser acolytes remaining. You would do well to abandon this hopeless war before I find you. I have an anvil reserved for your head when I smash it into a bloody pulp." 
#38 Posted by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio


The General staggered to her feet, battered by the demon's last barrage of attacks. It had not yielded the results Azrael had hoped for on her daughter's murderer, but it had nonetheless weakened her, and made her bleed. The General reached onto her back and drew a pair of legionnaire battle axes, blades tinged red and bars guarding the knuckles adorned with spikes. She charged headlong at her foe, then stopped short and slid, aiming a sharp kick towards the demon's knee. As she slid through the ash, past Azrael, she also swung both axes inwards towards each other to sever her legs above the knee. She jumped up behind her enemy and turned her weapons parallel to each other, swinging them diagonally down Azrael's back. She then jumped up to drop kick the demon and send her toppling face first into the dirt. Hardly a split second after she hit the ground, the General rose up and removed her helmet, looking down on her enemy with black eyes, filled with pride. "You have lost, little girl." the General proclaimed, "Are you strong enough to accept it? Are you bold enough to welcome your end and embrace your new home atop a pike?" She reached under the clothe suspended around her waist and drew a small device, similar to a pistol from Earth, which with a mere squeeze, unleashed a firestorm upon the ground. "Or is your body only worthy of being burned?"


The pantheon flew into the vacuum of space, a valiant charge against the Symaarian foe. Suddenly, an unbelievable thing happened, a seismic impact that shook the foundation of all reason. A god died. She was struck by an overwhelming hail of fire from the ships of the interlopers. Before she could recover or shield herself, her divine blood was scattered into space. One by one, they fell, but the Eternal Flame decimated the enemy fleet in return. Dathron observed the chaos in the sky from his throne room. He listened as the resurrected Symaarian whispered to him.

The god replied coldly, "I hear you, Symaarian. And might I say, it was amusing to watch you taper on the edge of mortality. However, I cannot end my mission. In all my days, I have never backed down or surrendered a world, and the simple addition of brute force will not sway me this day. Instead, I challenge you to face me as a true leader would. Surely, you do not wish to sacrifice your people and only prolong your own end. You fight so valiantly for this planet. There must be something of worth to you here. If there is even one life form you hold dear, in the skies or on the ground, you will cease fire... and face the master of your fate with dignity."

As Dathron spoke, the floor beneath Kaligar's feet began to rumble and a platform of steel was ripped from the control room. It carried him across the void, the great divide between his imposing fleet and the armada of Dathron's legion, the glowing aura of the Earth below. It ushered him down towards the throne ship, every legionnaire and god below him chanting his name, crying out for blood, for vengeance. The platform brought him through the dismal halls of the flagship and before Lord Dathron.

As the Symaarian was lowered gently to the floor of the throne room, Dathron stood atop the steps, back turned as the light of breaking dawn shone in through the otherwise abysmal chamber. Breaking the long, unrelenting silence, Dathron spoke, "I have subjugated dynasties who's majesty and strength defy explanation. I have crushed monsters who could swallow planets under my heel. And yet, in my insurrection of this pitiful world, thirty one of my lesser gods have perished, all by the hands of you and your followers. This is unheard of. I promised them immortality. You have made a liar of me. That is your first offense."

Dathron turned, his eyes baring down on the dignified, but nonetheless mortal, Symaarian. "If you truly witnessed the Eternity Pit, you would know that war is obsolete. My underlings fight only to spread the Supreme Vision, to end war for all time. As I see you, you are nothing more than a heretic claiming to be on my level. For that, you will die." Dathron raised his hand and released the raw fires of creation on his foe, only a fraction of a percent of its full might. He descended the steps and both hands began to burn as he looked down on Kaligar. "You stand charged with the crime of deicide." he boomed, lowering a smoldering, judgmental hand over Kaligar, "How do you plead?"

#39 Posted by Syapt (263 posts) - - Show Bio

She finished her speach and with it Joey gave his response with a warm smile. "You disrespect me and my culture, meth is bad for the soul beautiful. My "drug" of choice is marijuana, the plant of happiness." She couldn't help but laugh and shake her head, least the guy was hounest. "As for your offer..." His expression saddend however as he worked out the thoughts in his mind. Undoubtably he was not exactly keen on how she went about making the proposal. The violent display far from something the relaxed hero was fond of. "Just tell me your name and give me a bit of respect, and i'll do whatever you want." The man finished Evie more then happy to look him in the eyes respectively.  Howver she couldn't leave it to be that simple and so her head shook before her hand brushed aside blond strands of hair.

"EV is my true name though I tend to go by Evie or Eve. I was designed to syfer abilities which means to copy basicly. Enough time around them and they get added to my collective of attributes. My other primary ability is evolution or adaptation. I go into space I choke so my lungs learn to store air so I can function in space indefinately. With Dathron's ability that blessed my veins those work almost instantly and then of course there are a few extra additions." Evie smirked rather proud of who she was. "I was made to become the perfect being and that is where the problem lies. I can go on and be a goddess unlike any other and the regime by Dathron could likely be mine in time. However I was made by humans, my best friend lives on this planet. If I understand correctly her father died fighting for this rock and I know her mom is. My boyfriend is on this rock and I do love him, undoubtably there are reasons to fight for either side.." She dropped to her feet now standing on her feet presenting herself more as one of his kind then a patheon.

"So I want you to make believe these people are worth fighting for. Show me that you will give it everything to save humanity. Prove to me that your rebels with a cause not rebels simply fighting to die on your feet. Prove to me that humanity is worth saving. Prove without a doubt that this world should not be blown apart." With that she through a punch towards his face nothing fast just enough to help drive her point. "Show me a respectable warior." She droped almost instantly into a sweeping kick meant to knock him off his feet. "Show me a hero for this back water planet." Finishing she came up in a upercut. Her stands droping into an enchanting pose more so then a fighter stance. Her hand almost seamed reaching out to him to come at her and rise above what he limited himself to. "Show me a savior."

#40 Posted by Soothing_Sounds (1718 posts) - - Show Bio


Joey stood smiling at the proud goddess as she made her speech. She had decided to stand toe to toe with him, let him into her life a bit, even understand her plight. Her name was Evie, she was officially a friend of his, more importantly, she was what he called a human. She had powers, great powers, powers he could only imagine having. Yet she had decided to respect him, even stand on his level as an equal. She had a life, and friends, and troubles, even with all that power. Most importantly, she had the will that the people who fought on earth have, the will that makes heroes. She could defeat Dathron, even take what was his, but Dathron could never take that power inside of her. He knew he would have to fight for her, he just didn't know how literally that meant. And he never fully understood until the first punch was thrown.

He saw it coming, he felt like he could dodge it too, but he didn't. And as it hit him, he felt her emotions and heard his Mother voice at the same time. Someday Joey, you will have to fight a battle that is both against your morals, yet necessary for the world. As the kick came, he could feel what Evie was saying both with her words and with attacks. She wanted to see someone else with the will of a hero, he just didn't know if he was the one she was looking for. Why can't we just love each other mom, why can't we just have peace? Then came the uppercut, and he could feel everything Evie felt. She wanted to save this planet, whether she knew it or not, but she wanted to see if it was really worth saving. it may seem obvious, as that was what she was saying the whole time, this time though, he knew she believed that he could be the one to do it. Because some people want to see that love is... no, that happiness is worth fighting for. And one day Joey, you're going to prove to someone, that it is. At the time Joey didn't believe her, he thought happiness couldn't be achieved through violence, especially violence against a woman. But as he was falling from the uppercut, he knew that he had been wrong, and he knew that this was the day his mother had been talking about.

As he was falling he caught himself with his heels and looked directly into Eve's eyes. He lifted his left hand and aimed his most powerful and most concentrated sound attack at Eve, an attack that he had never tested on another living creature. An attack that showed he was willing to fight. But he wasn't done yet, he barely caught his balance, then dashed to the right. As soon as he was far enough, he turned around and threw his bat at Evie in one swift motion. Then used another powerful sound attack to either push the bat forward at a faster rate, or most likely destroy it, he was uncertain. All the while he looked into Evie's eyes, and if she ever looked back into his, she would see the eyes of determination. That, he was certain of.

#41 Posted by 614azrael (10306 posts) - - Show Bio

Azrael glared at the General in aparent annoyance her white hair blowing from shock waves as she got to her feet. The weather was calm if not for the ongoing war the day might have been beautiful to most peole. To her though this was the setting she wanted to be in, all around the two was war Ravek leading troops through a grizzly battle that seamed to have no end on either side. The air was a flood of shock waves from artilerky fire and heavy feat. A chaotic setting that apeased a grieving violent woman more a chaos bringer then human. Bleeding but far from defeated the General of Dathron's army reached for two battle axes the tips read as if ever stained in blood of Dathron's victims the knuckles coverd by a quartet of spikes. And then came the violent charge, The Leegionnaires best rushing at her in another flurry of attacks.

Stoping the woman dropped into a slide Blair's knee snaped and she almost fell from the blow. Then came the two swipes at her legs the ax's aimed to take her legs. In a pluff of crimson mist the blades sliced through air. The legs reforming unscathed, the General was far from done though jumping the woman slashed with tremendous force down the demons back followed by a sharp kick to the back of the head. The demon took it all coughing up blood as she was on her knees body mending the damage. "You have lost, little girl." The general spoke looking down at the demon after removing her healm. "Are you strong enough to accept it? Are you bold enough to welcome your end and embrace your new home atop a pike?" She reached for what apeared to be a pistol and flames poored across the ground. "Or is your body only worthy of being burned?"

Her blood red eyes and their blazing flames looked to the Generals. They were black like onyx, they were like Serenity's and a childish demented giggle escaped her lips as flames danced around her. "I'm affraid my body has never been worthy of burning." Her first ability was pyrokinesis the ability to generate and manipulate fire. She never burned of all the elements flame was the one she knew best and she was just given more to play with. She dropped to all fours in laughter her sanity was deprived lost in blind rage murderous and vindictive. Every break in the sound seamed to generate an increase in heat and flame. Untill finally the two stood in the center in what to outsiders looked like a white hot tornado of flame. The heat burned away all the metal on Az. How it handled against the General however she didn't know nor did she care. Rather she looked to the few traces of shadow at their feet, the few spots not replaced by searing blight white. Her body vanished as if sucked into that spot of darkness and then there she was erupting from the shadow. Directly beneath the General fist with dager like nails reaching to punch into the womans skull. All her force she could throw into a punch aimed to drive through her daughters killer.

Of Death And Shadow

Chains shot from her hand reaching out to a group of ork, chaos that didn't follow Aldeon and Legion forces. Thee chains wrapped around the men and women before the apocalyptic child. Each chain sunk into the body weighing thirteen pounds for every sin. The effect was a weight that was hard to move and when ripped free was horendous. With a violent tug the  bodies fell apart in a spray of thick blood. The chains the forsaken Roxom used seamed to target people instinctively the hooks shooting into others. And being rendered with no sence of finess. Blood splashing across the ground in a constant devious pattern. A large figure almost more machine than sentient stood before her. Perhaps it was a god perhaps it was  just a generic force Serenity didn't care. The dark pocket on the world was graced by the creature and her yellow eyes flashed as she teleported before it.

A fierce heavy fist slamed into the earth rock shattering the ground shooting up shards  ground cracking from the pressure. The blow crushed Serenity her skull shatering in a spray of thick near black blood. The limb reformed though at the same time as the arm of the giant decayed falling into pieces. A taloned hand grabbed the metalic armor on the chest and yanked it upwards. Soaring several feet into the air chains shot upwards turning into small syths and driving into the creature. All the blades touched trippled in weight the various blades making the heavy machine creature falling weighing near a ton and a half. Then yanked to the earth explding into a guyser of blood and metalic remnants. The child of Aza and Kaligar now laced with the dark powers of the hellish warp simply walked on seaking to quell the masses growing. She had no desire to kill Dathron specificly or to see humanity fell. The princess of the warp only wanted to end life of things in the warps favor which in a way was Aldeon's.

#42 Posted by .Longshot. (5245 posts) - - Show Bio

The U.N. vessel drifted on the high seas. Remnants of destroyed fighters from Dathron's fleet washed up around them. The ship, of course, was not without its battle scars. The breeches of the hull were hastily patched, and wreckage was strewn about the tarmac. Down below deck, Agent Hannigan walked down the narrow hall with two of her men following close behind.

"How many?" she asked.

"Our last count was four hundred and sixty three refugees, ma'am." answered one of them, "If we adhere to strict rations, our food can last for another six days."

"Assuming we don't get attacked again. We're sitting ducks at this point. Send some people out to scavenge parts from Dathron's fighters. Salvage any functioning weapons and we might stand a chance." Hannigan ordered. One of them nodded and turned around to carry out her orders. She came to a threshold and lay her hand on the hatch. She whispered words of reassurance to herself before flinging open the door. She was met with a cacophony of voices, each influenced by fear, pain, love and loss. The massive, emptied out room was now filled to the brim with people gathered from every shore. Slowly, every eye turned to her. The room fell silent.

"Good evening, everyone." she announced, "My name is Melissa Hannigan, and I'm in command of this ship. I want you all to know that this is the headquarters of the United Nations' metahuman task force. There's no safer place for you to be during these hard times. It's not in my nature to lie, so I won't spare you folks the details. As I speak, major cities across the planet are being reduced to war zones, the legion has begun sweeping rural territories and, by our latest estimate, the death toll numbers... in the millions." she bit her lip and bowed her head as the people's hope grew another shade darker. "But it's important not to give up." she said, choking back her own tears, "Because there are people out there... fighting for us. They're going into hell and doing their best to save the world and... they're dying. They're dying for us and they're not afraid. It doesn't matter who they are or what they can do. Right now, they're our heroes. They're sacrificing themselves and all they want is to know that people are going to survive. And that's exactly what we're going to do... survive. No matter how powerful Dathron is, we will survive. Because we believe. We believe in heroes!" She rose her fist in the air. She was not met with applause. The people did not leap from their seats to cheer her on. There was a spark of hope in him, but nothing more. Agent Hannigan bowed her head and waved to them, "As you were."

She shuffled off to the end of the room where she came to a stop, looking down at a little girl who sat in the corner. She was cradling a teddy bear who's left side had been burned away entirely. Melissa bent down on one knee. She removed her beret and shook out her short, blonde hair. "Are you okay?" she asked. The girl was silent, keeping her eyes on the bear. "Don't be afraid, sweety. I'm one of the good guys."

"Mr. Cuddles says we're not gonna survive." the girl mumbled.

"And why does he say that?"

"All the stuff you said about heroes, he doesn't believe you."

"I suppose I could give him some proof."

"Do you know any heroes?"

"I know one."

"Tell me about him."

"Well, he's brave, he's smart, he's downright crazy, but he'll never let anyone die if he has a say. 'Til his last breath, he's gonna fight this. He'll never stop until you're safe. And there are a million more just like him."

The little girl was silent. She looked at the scorched bear in her hands, then turned to look into Melissa's kind eyes as she finally asked, "Why couldn't he save my mommy?"

Melissa couldn't answer. She closed her eyes and held the little girl close. "He can't save everyone." she whispered, stroking the girl's hair, "No one can. But if the heroes can't save you, I promise, I promise... I will."

Agent Hannigan eventually left and walked out into the hallway. She checked her radio once more and was answered by static, sliding down the wall and bracing her head in her hands. "Where the hell could he be?"

#43 Posted by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio

The maelstrom of fire subsided and the General, who had managed to reach the precipice of the flames, was still painfully scorched. Protocols in her armor promptly cooled the advanced metal and vented it, but the burns of the flesh were deep and agonizing. The tattered cloth around her waist had burned away almost immediately. Still, she had known the touch of the hottest flame imaginable. She could weather these onslaughts. Suddenly, her foe burst out of nowhere, swinging powerful claws. The General promptly raised her helmet and let the demon strike it, her claws puncturing the lens and the nigh-impenetrable face alike. Impressive. The beast took her helm, caught on her claws and impeding any other attacks planned with them.

Stepping swiftly around the edges of their arena built of troops, the General dove for her axes. They were hot to the touch, but she picked them up, charging at Azrael. A graceful, yet brutal chop at each limb and a punch to the stomach with the spiked knuckles were her first moves. If the punch connected, the demon would double over and the General would swing one of her axes into her back, burying it there. At the same time, she dropped to her knee and chopped the other axe down on her enemy's foot. If nothing else, it would pin her to that spot. The General abandoned her weapons and stepped back, admiring Azrael. She was indeed a challenge, but nothing against a soldier blessed by Dathron himself.

At a pause, the General reached for the last two weapons upon her back, twin swords whose sheaths melded seamlessly into her armor. The blades were short, composed entirely of one piece of uninterrupted polished steel from pommel to tip. With a masterful twirl of each blade, she flung one into the dirt by her foe. The other, she kept for herself and took a fighting stance that placed her left arm out in defense, and her right wielding the blade at a raised angle, ready for a killing thrust. These weapons were made on a far distant world, forged for her and her alone. The weight, to any other, would seem obscene for such a weapon, but she wielded it with silence and grace. Every detail of these swords was meant to create a disadvantage for any opponent who held them. The General's feet traced silently around the perimeter, circling her obstinate foe. If the demon could even survive the previous onslaught, she would not last much longer.

#44 Posted by Emperor_von_Doom (3120 posts) - - Show Bio

It all seemed hopeless.  
There before him sat a living god, a testament to the annals of creation and the abyss of destruction. He breathed fire and spake with the voice of eternity. Kaligar responded to his childish game of accusations with a cold glare. This was not a court. It was a statement of facts, facts that the Symaarian was very proud in committing and being a part of. He stared into the depths of Dathron's soul unflinchingly. When asked how he pleaded, he gave a ferocious cry: 
"My name is Kaligar Roxom. I never plead. Yet, for all your fantasies of power I am guilty of only one thing: smashing your dream of universal conquest. That dream is property of the Navigator and his children. Not. You," 
The telltale crack of chains echoed throughout the vast black throne room and a anvil fell from Kaligar's back to the floor, cracking it into a large crater. The fires of the Pit roared underneath its surface, barking for Dathron's blood. Kaligar's opposing hammer had not the restraint of the great anvil and it burned openly, erupting into a plume of fire the likes of which mortals could not bear to hold or even cast a gaze at. Yet Kaligar stood defiant of it all, a mere mortal among gods in comparison of his feeble flesh enhanced with metal and combat drugs.  
"Do what you will. Be forewarned - I will defend myself," 
Dathron seemed uneasy for a split second - but only for that instant. He cast the uncompromising tongues of the Pit upon his foe like rain from his hand, the heat and light blinding to most. Kaligar closed his eyes and whispered something incoherent. The fires initially consumed him, but shied away as he continued to speak despite the pain of the temperature rising around him. He opened his eyes. They were pearly white, possessed by a power unheard of in this time and age. Thirty thousand years separated Kaligar from Dathron. Thirty thousand years of experience now shunned the living god away from Kaligar's sphere. In terms of human understanding, Dathron seemed a thing of antiquity by comparison.  
"Both of us wield the power of the Pit. Only I wield the power of the Navigator in conjunction with that. Show me what you have learned in your long eternity of life and I shall show you what I have mastered." 

#45 Posted by Syapt (263 posts) - - Show Bio

Her fist was pretty easily thrown meant more to guage his potential. Her fist made contact as the pacifist took the blow lost in thought. And then came the kick weakening his footing so far still submiting to contemplating things. Allready she was starting to have doubt as what good was somebody who didn't bother to so much as resist. Evie never believed in the prospect of peace. Such a world was static and logically only could be obtained by tossing aside emotion. No she wanted a world that would fight for something. Fight to adapt, struggle to obtain what sounded imposible. A world without fear was a world without anything to lose. Eve saw a place with things worth risking her life for. That to her was the spark that gave humanity a chance to survive this. They were not the type to submit and give in. Her uper cut landed and she watched as Joey fell down ready to see what the decision for the human race would be.

Catching himself Joey looked her in the eyes defiantly. There it was that was what she was wanting to see. She wouldn't alter the effects of his abilities with any trick she needed to weigh their odds. His left hand and the strongest sound attack possible was put to use. The shockwave had the force to knock her back roughly ten paces. The charged infraglium she wore almost shattered and if it was anyother kind of material perhaps it would have. He was willing to fight perhaps there was a shread of hope in these people. Rushing off to get some added distance Soothing Sounds turned and hurled his bat towards her. With it came another sharp burst of sound. Using her own abilities of sound she softened the blow that hit the bat. She could see the determination in his eyes and for that he needed to have a weapon intact. Standing silently and ready the blond took the bat head on. Her head rocking backwards from the force. The hit could of tooken out any of Dathron's lesser troops. It may not have been enough to kill one of the gods but it was still strong. If not for near impervious skin Evie might have been down for the count.

The bat fliped in the air and her lightly tan hand snapped out catching it in the middle of its spiraling dessent. Nano technology started to leave her arms slowly creeping down her arm and to the bat. The firm fitting technology she wore now sleevless the bat coated in a plack thin layer. Walking towards Joey her fingers taped along the handle her fingers emiting blue sparks on contact. The energy chared the metal making it near indistructible so long as the energy wasn't saped from it. "Consider it a pressent. Should fair better in a fight now nothing major just dont want you going into a fight like this unarmed." She smiled warmly as she cleared the distance and handed the weapon over. "It's a long shot but I think there is fair probibialty that we can surpress this problem. Admitedly it wont be easy and are friends here may want to stay ground side." Evie paused giving him a chance to reply before continueing.

"What I have in mind is pretty simple, a quick teleport and where at my estate where I can hook you up with a outfit that can survive being in space. Provided whatever you use to breathe doesnt shatter you should be fine." Her tone was light and humorous as to suggest that was no threat despite being verry possible. "We teleport into his large craft and seek to put that miserable egotistic ass down. Hopefully where not the only ones giving this a shot. If we are this could end up rather poorly."

#46 Posted by 614azrael (10306 posts) - - Show Bio

The tornado of flame as hot as the sun and fully capable of melting the troops near by began to subside. Surprisingly not only was the woman intact but so was her armor. The flames were almost instant and just being near the flames would result in most things being reduced to molten slag. Still though the woman stood and quickly deflected the claw. Her metalic nails drove through the General's empty healm. The helmet deconstructed as the General let it go. Abilities to manipulate metal breaking it apart. Then of course it became the generals turn to fight back. The slender woman belonging to Dathron dove taking up her twin axes and preparing a lethal flurry.

The swipes at her arms and legs were simple enough to block both woman containing great speed. The tonfa blades blocking the ones aimed for the arms then rotating to meet the ones aimed for the legs. While both skilled and agile enough to counter eachother Az secretly noted the woman obviously had grander strength. She in her wrath however was far from considering it in this fight. She was all fury and vengeance nothing else mattered in her tormented mind. Then came the punch to quick to be countered  bending over air knocked out of her the attacks with the axes could be mad. The first came down lodging in her back cuting into armor and through the back of the ribs. Painfull but far from fatal. The next came down driving into her foot. Then the woman paused, Aza didn't like that this was not some spectator sport it was war. One of them needed to die speaches had no place here.

Thankfully atleast the sermons seamed done and the General reached for two blades on her backs the last of which she had. Blair was doing fine she still had her weapons intact. One was tossed into the dirt before the anguish filled demon the other in the woman's hand held at the ready. The design was rather beautiful. The kind of weapon designed for a single person and from there she could also pick up it would be also almost imposible to lift by normal means. That was fine Azra had no wish to fight the woman with her own weapon. And contrary to what the leader may have thought while Az may have seamed outclassed she was a longshot from out of the fray. Her body and armor decompressed into a single cloud of blood red mist apearing a foot behind the trio of weapons now laying on the ground. Her body reasembling healed from the injuries almost instantly. The Teres Morba an alien race that had an alternant version of herself offered this unique ability. Azra had a healing factor but the mist was great because it worked faster fixing non vital wounds on the spot. Both combatants were still fairing pretty well in stamina and strength but the General was the one walking around with scars to show.

Picking up the axes and sword with her abilities over earth and metal she deconstructed the axes and atleast tried to do so with the sword. The sword being of diffrent metal there was that faint chance that it was something not in her spectrum to simply rip apart. Never the less she tried aiming whatever short work she made of the blade at the generals heart. The two ax heads being hurled at the womans head aimed to double tap the most destructive way fathomable. As for the shafts of the weapon she split in two and hurled a segmet aimed for each limb. Her ability to control such structures increasing odds of guiding them to her sisters killer. Her attack was far from over though. Flooded with rage she continued to asail her enemy shifting fire to hopefully engulf her enemy and then turn to razor wire the hellish metal binding the woman making her good picking for the following attack. Following she teleported infront of the woman the grieving mother aiming to bring her blades down in x fashion the roaring chainswords snarling like the demonic things they were made of eager to cleave the woman into four seperate halfs. Following it Blair's knee shot forward twisting metal to give it a long dager like spike. The wicked blade aimed to go just short of below the rib cage and up into the woman's heart.

No Sympathy

A demon prince advanced less affected by the dark powers surounding the princess. The warp energy from the woman beconed the dark possessed soul to aproach her. As if driven by unseen elements to confront this new deity of mallice. The red skined black horned figure with a claw thats size might have even rivaled that of her fathers killer aproached. His voice a deep gutteral growl as he spoke. "So I hear your mother went insane with grief after losing you. Perhaps you should visit her. Or maybe your father comes first. Rumors of the warp whispering in my head tell me that resiliant fool still walks." Serenity didn't care at the slightest. Instead two chains shot out grabbing hold by the demonic space marines eye sockets. A simple movement of her hand and the creature was hurled upwards and then slamed into the ground. With a swift movent the slender creature was ontop of the marine. His spine was fractured ribs puncturing lungs, Ren could feal it one heart was crushed the other faint. Blood was chocking the mangled thing his jaw caved in and skull a mangled mess from the hooks. Kneeling the princess kissed the brow of the creature niping her lip on fractured bone shards as she did so. She moaned excited by the pain and her blood began eating away at the creatures body. The blood in itself a monster of the abyss. "My family is dead to me, I'm beyond them."

#47 Posted by Soothing_Sounds (1718 posts) - - Show Bio


He was shocked. Not just because of her incredible strength, but because of the boundaries he had just stepped out of. And he knew that if they needed any chance of surviving, he would need to stay out of those boundaries, at least for the time being. Then there were her abilities, though she had told him about them, he was still surprised. Especially since she was holding back. His bat-attack had actually worked, and she had actually allowed it to make contact, the efects were impressive from his point of view. And after his attack had been finished, he was still ready to fight, still ready to show his will. Soon enough though, he realized it was unnecessary. The goddess caught his bat, and changed it, he didn't know how, and he didn't know why, but he could sense it she didn't have malicious thoughts. Instead, he could see her aura of, from his perception, happiness. Joey started to smile.

As Eve started walking over to him, he couldn't help but be overjoyed. He had done it, he had gotten a great warrior to join his cause. As she handed him the bat, saying it was a "present", all he could mumble was "Thank ya." He knew the bat would be useful in the coming battle's, and that he needed anything and everything to help him out. Then she said something that stopped him from smiling, "...our friends here may want to stay ground side." though his frown only lasted for so long, because soon he remebered something. That these people were heroes, and that even this adventure he was about to have, would be nothing compared to their battle down here. He smiled sadly at Evie and said, "I think that they can take care of themselves, afterall there heroes." Though he knew that they were most likely going to die, he also knew that they were willing to die, not because they were suicidal, but because they were fighting for what they believed in. Because they had become rebels.

After she had finished explaining what they were about to do, Joey had one last thing to say, "Wait one sec, Eve." He looked over the battlefield, and he doubted the rebels would hear his words, but he didn't care. "REBELS, IF YOU WISH TO FLEE, THEN DO SO. I HAVE NO DOUBT THAT YOUR STRENGTH IS ENOUGH TO EASILY OUTRUN THEM. I MAY BE LEAVING< BUT I LEAVE YOU WITH ONE MESSAGE." The battle continued, warriors fighting, shooting, perhaps winning, perhaps losing, Alll-in-all, it was plain chaos. "STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS!" With that, they shimmered away, he felt as if she knew that the time was right for the leaving, or maybe he was just drawing too much attention to them. Either way, he had found a great partner.

Invasion of Dathron's fleet

Their set-up at Eve's base was sweet, quick, and oddly incredible. He didn't say anything outloud, but he liked the pieces of equipment that he was soon set-up in. It was far from what he expected to have, and it was also very comfortable. It was, in essecne, a necessity that he took pleasure out of. Just for the fact that the suit was soooo... advanced? Other than that, the meeting at the base was uneventful, as it should've been. They just didn't have the time to be lolligagging. Their was too much at stake, with too little time.

As they entered the ship, he had realized that they weren't in his main room, not that that was a problem, the fact that he was even there is impressive. He honestly didn't think he was going to ever make it this far, he thought he was just going to be a warrior who fought for the human race on the planet of humans. This was, in a way, out of his league. He felt slightly self-conscious, but that couldn't deter him from smiling. After all, you can't win a war thinking that you yourself are too weak to accomplish the task. Something did set his smile off though. The alarm.

A large group of Legion, led by a single lesser god, came right at the first sound of it. Of course, they were soon easily dispatched. The bat sound technique was useful at taking out large waves of enemies, while also not having to worry about damaging Eve. Although he doubt he could, especially at the alarming speed she was taking out legion, as well as the methods she used to do so. She easily burned, blown, shredded, and skewered enemies as if the were toys ready to be broken. Hell, even the lesser god was easily destroyed by her might. That didn't mean he didn't do anything, it just meant that on a scale from 1-10 in power. He was only a six, while she was an eleven. He wondered not the for the first time, why she had chosen him, though the thought quickly left his mind. It didn't matter why, because honestly, he needed her a lot more than she him. He guessed that's how some partners worked.

#48 Posted by Dathron (49 posts) - - Show Bio


Kaligar stood before Dathron, emanating power, his very essence screaming with power across the cosmic spectrum. Dathron ground his teeth with the sound of a crumbling mountainside and at last said, "Indeed, the might bestowed by your deity in addition to that of the Pit makes you an intriguing specimen. However, you wield the Eternal Flame as a child would." The Keeper of the Pit raised his hand to clutch the Symaarian's throat and pull him across the floor of the throne room and lift him off his feet. "Allow me to show you how power is put to use."

The Master God walked calmly across the throne room towards the back wall, keeping his arm outstretched to keep the Symaarian levitating, crushed on all sides in a telekinetic grip that would hold him in a momentary paralysis. Dathron had walked in the Eternity Pit for longer than time could measure. He was saturated in the Eternal Flame more than any who had been touched by it, and he had known it for much longer than any mortal could comprehend. He knew the entity of all creation more closely than many knew themselves, intertwined with the raw power of the Pit. Meanwhile, Kaligar had known the Eternal Flame for less than an instant in Dathron's perception. It was as if they were dueling and Dathron was a master wielding a brilliant, shining sword, while the Symaarian was an amateur fighting with a dull, broken blade. He knew so little about the power he now possessed, and the strength of the Navigator would quickly fail to compensate.

Pulling Kaligar into his physical hand, he focused the Flame in his palm to scorch his throat, but it was only intense enough to torture him, boil his skin and impede his breathing. He walked up behind his throne and up to the giant wall of glass. His eye twitched for a moment as he sensed a disturbance in the fabric of his pantheon. A traitor. No matter, she would be dealt with.

Without hesitation, Dathron drove his fist through the windows, shattering them into a ran of broken glass that fell down to the Earth below. The fleet had drifted steadily to the North and now floated miles above the green fields of Albany. Dathron promptly jumped out of the flagship, towing the Symaarian along for the fall. The heat of his palm continued to escalate, and Dathron looked out glanced to the corner of his vision. The fleet was under attack. His ships and his troops were spread out all across the planet, but the armada was densest at its heart, circling the throne ship. His latest lesser-god had betrayed him, and she had enlisted a lowly rebel whose mind was clouded by a native herb. Dathron released a blast from his eyes to burn the rebel away, and commanded the ships, concentrating them with lethal precision to wipe away he and all who stood with him. For the traitor, Eve, he had a different fate in mind. He allowed the ships and the flying troops and the great demons of the air to attack her, each more devastating than the last, but he promptly reached out to her with his mind and anchored her to the ground in order to pull her down to where he and the Symaarian were soon to land. He had dominion over her in more ways than she knew, and she had signed her death warrant in forsaking him.

With an Earth-shattering boom, the three slammed into the ground at blinding speed. The rolling, grassy hills were crushed into a deep crater as Dathron emerged. With a closed fist, he reached out for Eve to pull her before him. With his other hand, he poured out the Flame into a miniature sun over the crater in order to keep Kaligar on his back, and suffering.

"You stole something from me." Dathron snarled, swinging his fist down to crush Syapt into the ground. He took her by the hair to pull her up to his eye level, sure not to be gentle. "If you had truly received even a fraction of the Pit's enlightenment, you would see why your uprising is futile, and you would understand what I do this for. You would realize that my cause is right and you would sooner destroy yourself than even think of revolt. As you are, you stand farther from supremacy than the lowest of my followers. You have no claim to godhood. You are a mortal. A traitorous, disloyal mortal who is not even worthy of the affliction called death." His eyes began to burn as he spoke, "But I am willing to make an exception."

In the light of the burning sun, Dathron unleashed a pillar of fire into Eve's eyes. Kaligar would have to wait his turn. Heretics were in need of annihilation, but traitors had to die first.


The General gathered her breath. She had expended her energy in parrying and evading the seemingly endless attacks of her opponent. The burns under her armor would be unbearable for anyone of weaker constitution but she had endured. Her mind was promptly catching up to her body. She didn't know when, but somewhere in the madness, her arm had been cut and now, a trail of silver blood ran down the black and red armor, dripping from her fingertips. She was weak, and internally, writhing in absolute agony, but she wore a face of calm perseverance, invincibility. With a powerful war cry, she lunged forward, stabbing her short sword towards Azrael's throat. Recoiling the blade with a swipe along the collar bone, she slashed diagonally down the demon's face, then aimed a flurry of deep cuts all over Azrael's body. It would be over soon. Her wounds would be healed. No one had a right to scar her body other than Dathron. His markings kept her humble. Any other scar would be a disgrace, and the heretic who attempted to do it would be put to death.

#49 Posted by Syapt (263 posts) - - Show Bio

The ride to the ship wasn't grand at all. Dathron forces blasting round after round their ship having no real weapons to fight back. It was however heavy armored managed to pull through the fight. And with it Syapt and her rebelious partner were in the middle of a fire fight. It was time to simply burst into a world of retaliation sadly their was no epic ballad to war. The conflict was simply that the glorry seamingly dead. Their were fighters down on the ground but they were fighting on fools hope even the stupidest individual could see it. The only way to surpass this struggle was straight up the middle. Dathron, ending him was really the only chance the planet had. Entering the vessel Evie extended the blades that rested in her forarms. Their was no need to hold back here, and Evie wasn't going to.

Limbs fell as blades cleaved through flesh and steel, what ot in her way mattered little. Bursts of electricity fried brain cells in shocking streams of lightning. Nuclear energy burst prey into nothingness. A lesser god was quick to try and hault her prowless but it was far from efficient. A quick motion and Evie avoided the fist aimed for her doll like face. A swift motion driving a blade through the elbow the force behind it brought the blade upwards along with the arm. The blade coursing with nuclear energy and backed with incredible force driving through the skull. Her hand pulled free grayish matter turning to mist along the sword in her hand.

With a combination of sound waves made by both Sya and Soothing Sound the door was easily kicked in the pair entering the room as the doors slammed. The glass shattered and Dathron falling to the earth Azrael's surprisingly less then dead husband in tow. A hoard of demons legion forces and ships flew at them but if SS couldn't take them put simply she could. Emp like electricity shut down vehicles nuclear power blew them apart and nothin really managed a fair deffensive against her.  Floating in the skies more a radioactive star then a woman Dathron reached out to her pulling the perfectionist down with horific force she could take it though. In truth the last thing one wanted to do was use abilities on her. Dathron himself made sure of that fact as he sped up her abilities.

Earth filled the air in plumes of smoke and debree as the three smashed into the earth. Rolling plains bursted into a deep profound crater. Then came the telekenesis that pulled her to him the flames never bothered her. Skin tough to remarkable levels and the added boost from Dathron made that flame nothing major to her."You stole something from me." Dathron growled pummeling Evie into the dirt. Grabing hold of her by her long blond hair he forcefully pulled her to his eye level. "If you had truly received even a fraction of the Pit's enlightenment, you would see why your uprising is futile, and you would understand what I do this for. You would realize that my cause is right and you would sooner destroy yourself than even think of revolt. As you are, you stand farther from supremacy than the lowest of my followers. You have no claim to godhood. You are a mortal. A traitorous, disloyal mortal who is not even worthy of the affliction called death. But I am willing to make an exception."

A column of flames entered her eyes the eternal flame begining to mix with her own. It phased her little, did he really think shooting fire with fire did anything. Nothing came to harm by a simple attack as the fire of the eternal pit. "You don't get it do you if you were a god then you would have noticed I was willing to play you the entire time. Im not a follower, I live on individuality. Nothing would make me simply submit, I thrive on being the singular perfect being. Take harm I recover and adapt, become victim of a new power I learn it. I am evolution I am creation. Your just someone with a taste of godhood. Given might to be something. I was made to be something born a god from the start. Ever changing ever growing and never being knocked down by someone boring as you." It wasn't her best speach but really she didn't care. She wasn't here to play games she wanted this done Dathron bored her. "Revolt is stupid sure but so is bending over and taking it up the a** to follow some bland identity robboing concept."

With that she lashed out a open palm strike aimed as brutal as she could muster. Energy coursing in her muscle to give her remarkable mountain shattering strength. The speed behind it more like teleportation then a typical blow. Behind it was a blast of nuclear charged gravitons a lethal mix that was a cross between her boyfriend Overkill's energy and her own. With it she also placed a rush of the telkinetic energy Dathron had just given her. The strength behind it much like his capable of obliterating entire mountain sides. To polish it off she manipulated the gravity around the god to pin the deity down. That way whenever Kaligar or her through an attack he was more likely to take it. Evie saw this fight as little threat so far. It was all ego and show without to much bite.

#50 Edited by 614azrael (10306 posts) - - Show Bio

There was no explanation to how her magestic form weaved past the onslought or how she survived it the general simply did. She was a endeasring mighty spearhead of Dathron's legion still though she was nothing but someone to eliminate to Azrael. The gods flesh burned quite possibly no longer even flesh as of now. Blood ran from her arm in a constant stream from ingeries inflicted. Fair results though mildly insulting considering what had been hurled her way. Alezra could continue however the energy exerted was still easy for her. The snow white haired demon who was intoxicated by wrath would simply go untill this woman lay writhing in agony. She wouldn't stop or slow down, she wasn't fighting for Earth. At this point it wasn't so much as family. It wasn't for her remaining child Hex or step son Kastiel or for her forces. It wasn't for Ravek who led battalions only feet away from her, in a battle just next to her yet seaming a world away. She simply fought for blood and vengeance a monster of hate unbound by any and all means.

The woman that faced her screamed a rebelious cry a roar of challenge as the general refused to show weakness. Blair didn't bother waisting her breath only awaited the coming attack demonic, energy charged chainswords at the ready. The monstrous weapons simply waiting to continue spilling blood like the demon that used them. A thrust went for Azrael's throat only to be blocked. The force behind it seertainly strong but still repelled in this violent clash. The blade came up in a slash across Azrael's face the tip just short of carving out an eye. The wound stung but she was giddy by the pain and the injury would heal soon enough. Then came a flurry of attacks aimed deep and fierce and her blades did best to match the speed flung her way. Primarily though she simply kept heart and head intact. Armor chiped away and blood spilled. In a puff of crimson mist teleporting a step back she recovered the deep gashes mostly gone. She was killable but had come along way to make it hard to bring about. She lived for the thrill but that didn't mean a fight had to be fair. And though the grieving widow and mother had soiled the earth in her blood she had alot still to spill.

Again she lashed out yet again not holding anything back, nothing at all. With wind she generated enough wind that tossed up rocks would hit like heavy cannon fire. Water was pulled as she aimed at the blood that fled from the generals' arm. An effort to rip the silver fluid directly out of the woman. Metal and earth was an easy thing for Blair to manipulate and she again tried to compress it squishing the woman to death. All before she teleported from shadows aimed to appear directly before the woman as she lashed out yet again. Her abilities trying to rip the weapon free trying to part the woman with the last of her weapons. All the while the air again burst with solar flame around them as the child of death's swords came to assail the general. Flames meant to mealt the toughest of metals as her chainswords barred down on her prey. One heated roaring blade aiming to cleave the woman in twine. While the other made for her throat. Both fast fatal and hard to avoid on their own put together even better odds.

Monsters of the Warp

Serenity smiled as a warboss charged at her, the princess of the warp that went unbound and slaughtered. She had worked recently on obliterating as many stragglers as she possibly could. It was all so easy, and now one of the leaders though far less then the one that led this warband charged her. Ren only smiled a seductive cat like grin as the beast charged her arrogantly. It was not the one that killed her father it was not one of worth it was nothing. Yet it chared at her the destroyer that the warp gave birth to. She could of been an angel but the events chose for her to be a demon, a monster and the harvenger of ruin. From each hand six chains fell to the earth barbed hooks sinking into the dirt. A simple cross of her hands and the chains quickly snaked from the soil to flesh. Burowing past metal and into skin the blades sank into shoulders and elbows. More around thighs and knees. Two coiling around the chest another around the throat and the last slipping down the throat of the ugly creature and stabing into the heart. Uncrossing her arms from their x shape resulting in a magnificent spray of blood as the ork was torn to bloody shreads.

It was easy to spot one second Kaligar was there the next gone. A monstrous assault of the Horror coming towards Dathron. Serenity smiled at the thought so her father would soon become a mosnter as well? Psychically Aldeon and her laughed, a dark sound that if heard would of unravel the thickest of minds. The masses of legions were fading defeated not by heroes but by the demons and horrors of the world and distant worlds. How fitting that in the uprising of a tyrant it was the hated creatures that seamed to be doin the heavy lifting. In a flash of darkness a black flame that oozed blood as it vanished and reopend near the grassy craterd field two gods stood. One Dathron the so called patheon of patheons and a woman made to be perfect and ever evolving. If the Horrror of Kaligar's exit failed, if the god of evolution was not enough. Then the princess of the warp, the daughter of Roxom born again by violent world would join the fray.