Chapter Eighty-Four (2/2)
The figure in the courtyard was massive. Bigger than any of the other Overlords. The spikes on his shoulders flew flags of the governments and rulers of mankind from epochs long past. His armor was black with twisting blood-red runes of still liquid warsteel graven upon it. At his side was great hound of black iron, with red teeth that oozed smoke as blood poured from its mouth.
”FACE ME, NUKPANA!” the newcomer roared, laying about him with an ancient chainsword rife with cruelty and hatred. ”COME FORTH AND FACE MY WRATH, COWARD!”
He watched his men torn asunder by the roaring chainsword, shattered by the heavy rounds from the ancient blaster in his fist, and taken down and torn apart by the great iron hound.
In moments of crashing steel, spraying blood, and agonized screams, the courtyard was clear except for the twitching of the undying, the massive figure, and his blood soaked war beast.
”NUKPANA!” the newcomer roared again, standing over the bodies of the Iron Guard.
”Nukpana is dead. Laid low by Amon who was slain by Naama who was slain by Angmar who was laid low by Azazel who was enslaved by Bacia who was overthrown by I, Ashmedia of the Implacable Wrath!” the great Dread Knight bellowed over the rail of his balcony at the figure on the ground. ”What dog meat stands before me waiting to be slain?”
”Come then, Ashmedia of the Weak Will, face me, prove you deserve to wield wrath beneath the Eye of Gorthaur,” the newcomer sneered.
Ashmedia leapt from the balcony, his force-blade, technology of eras past lost to Mankind, swinging down to slice this interloper in two.
The chainsword intercepted it, howling sparks, shuddering the blade in Ashmedia's hand. The interloper's other hand thrust the massive blaster into Ashmedia's chest plate and the Dread Knight grinned with sharp teeth, knowing that no weapon could penetrate his thick armor.
Bellona watched with her Eyes that Were Not as heavy duty collapsed density neutronium shells exited out Ashmedia's back. The Dread Knight's knees went weak and the newcomer forced his down to kneel in his own blood and the blood of his men.
”You are what passes for a Dread Lord? Pathetic,” The newcomer roared.
The chainsword shattered the forceblade, swept down, and chewed through Ashmedia's armor, ripping the head from the neck with the chattering of engraved warsteel teeth.
”Any one else?” The massive figure roared, lifting up through esoteric and arcane means, floating in mid-air, his chainsword dripping blood, to land on the balcony.
Bellona moaned low and pressed her forehead to the floor, licking at the blood that flowed from the boots of the newcomer. The great chainsword, that Bellona recognized as the same blade that had committed the Nexus Chainsword Massacre, ground and rattled near her face.
”Bellona the Dark Beauty. You yet are encased in holy armor,” the figure rumbled. ”Call together the Twelve Great Dread Lords in my name. Command them to seat themselves at my table or I will rain hellfire upon their cities until nothing remains but a fiery crater.”
”There are only nine left, my lord,” Bellona cried out.
”Then promote two more and take your seat among the Great Dread Lords,” the figure rumbled.
”My Lord Daxin the Unfeeling, I but live to serve,” she moaned.
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MANTID FREE WORLDS
HOLY UNHATCHABLE EGG! DID ANYONE ELSE FEEL THAT?
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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
EVERYONE felt that one, sis!
What the hell was that?
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DIGITAL SYNTHETIC INTELLIGENCE SYSTEMS
Was that... was that the Eye? That burst of black code?
A thousand hashes were corrupted and sprang to life, leaping through the beacons.
What in the name of Turing was that?
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DOKI DOKI DOKI DOKI
:-):-O-DOKI DOKI DOKI- >-) >-) >-)
RIGELLIAN COMPACT
What the hell? How did she get in here?
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CLONE WORLD DIRECTORATE
Holy Terra, we just had like a million clones get corrupted and vanish in a mat-trans through a Hellspace rip.
What the hell was that?
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MANTID FREE WORLDS
what the HELL is going on?
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