06-12-2014, 09:38 AM
Soon after the explosion the truck halted and of all things, one of the Legionnaires being treated by Dr. Weston swayed from the truck to accept a rifle from one of his fellows.
Michael moved towards the exit but the Legionnaires had already moved on. Instead he was met by two dozen men in Custody uniform. They each eyed him with dangerously neutral expressions.
"What is happening?"
he asked the collective in a low voice. He saw one man wince and another grow a whiter shade of pale as his gaze swept across them.
One man cleared his throat and answered. Thick with blood, sweat and grime, he looked like he had been in a fight with a tiger. "Captain Istivak, Commander. The Legionnaires are covering our evacuation, sir."
"They are going to die."
It was not a question. The Captain fell silent, pain evident on his face. Michael slid off the back of the truck, snatching up a handful of the Legionnaire's dog-tags.
"Sir, what are you -"
"Silence."
His tone cut through the air like icicles. "I do not plan on dying here. Get the dying to safety and prepare a LAV for retreat. I will allow five to remain with me, choose, then go."
His demands were met with silence and he did not look to see if they obeyed. His eyes were fixed on the growing ranks of the rebel forces. His ears on the piercing screams of the dying.
The hollow of the void screamed to him like a banshee. Death called his name in the seductive tones of pain and carnage. With a wall of Air shielding him, he strode forward as the vanguard of destruction.
Ever does man betray...Just as the Brothers did. Ungrateful, envious, poisonous. This field reeks of traitorous blood.
Michael nodded to himself.
They would destroy the world in their arrogance. But no more...
A Legionnaire fumbled for his side-arm with slick fingers until he fell still, blood streaming from his neck.
No more...
The void burned bright with molten lava that flowed into the hollow recesses, setting every nerve tingling with power.
Michael held a hand towards the sky, bullets bouncing metres from his body like swatted flies. Let them see the face of a Fallen Angel. Let them know terror.
With an effort that left sweat dripping down his temples, he spun pure Earth, jagged spires like cave-less stalagmites splitting the dusty ground amidst the rebel forces who reeled in confusion.
Run, blind ones. Ignorance will not save you.
With Fire and Air the spires erupted and shattered. Hundreds of white-hot chunks wrought havoc among the rebels as they dropped amidst the bloody ruin that he had created.
Some attempted to flee, others bellowed in anger and furore fuelled a renewed rampage, trampling the bodies of their fallen comrades. None were granted mercy.
Michael spun Fire and Spirit, lashing out with crackling whips of flame that carved through the enemy. He spun Air and Earth, with some extra effort, using the ground beneath their feet as a death-trap in something akin to natural Caltrops.
RPG missiles flew towards him in an arc but none reached their target, either hindered by the wall of Air or detonated by thin webs of Fire. Bullets hailed down upon him as he drew the rebels attention in full at last.
The wall of Air was pelted with the force of hundreds of rounds and Michael's endurance flagged. His offensive stopped as he redirected his strength.
Let the world tremble at the price paid in blood and fire...
With all of his strength not directed in defence, he spun a force of pure destruction. Fire, Air and Spirit coated thick, layer upon layer as the ball of blue fire hovered overhead beneath his still-raised arm.
Blood and fire...
The net was released and the blue flame soared towards the rebel forces in silent grace. As it hit, a storm of dust and flame blanketed the Legionnaires in what would be a brief moment of respite.
Breathing heavy breaths, Michael turned on his heels and - somewhat surprised - found Captain Istivak waiting with a LAV. The man at first only stared as Michael climbed into the vehicle.
"We shall retreat,"
he said in a strained voice, although his face was granite.
"What...What was that?"
Istivak managed, climbing in next to him in the back seat while those around him took their places. The motor hummed to life and it was not until they neared the evacuation site when Michael replied.
"A gift, Captain. For the fallen."
Edited by Michael Vellas, Jun 12 2014, 09:39 AM.
Michael moved towards the exit but the Legionnaires had already moved on. Instead he was met by two dozen men in Custody uniform. They each eyed him with dangerously neutral expressions.
"What is happening?"
he asked the collective in a low voice. He saw one man wince and another grow a whiter shade of pale as his gaze swept across them.
One man cleared his throat and answered. Thick with blood, sweat and grime, he looked like he had been in a fight with a tiger. "Captain Istivak, Commander. The Legionnaires are covering our evacuation, sir."
"They are going to die."
It was not a question. The Captain fell silent, pain evident on his face. Michael slid off the back of the truck, snatching up a handful of the Legionnaire's dog-tags.
"Sir, what are you -"
"Silence."
His tone cut through the air like icicles. "I do not plan on dying here. Get the dying to safety and prepare a LAV for retreat. I will allow five to remain with me, choose, then go."
His demands were met with silence and he did not look to see if they obeyed. His eyes were fixed on the growing ranks of the rebel forces. His ears on the piercing screams of the dying.
The hollow of the void screamed to him like a banshee. Death called his name in the seductive tones of pain and carnage. With a wall of Air shielding him, he strode forward as the vanguard of destruction.
Ever does man betray...Just as the Brothers did. Ungrateful, envious, poisonous. This field reeks of traitorous blood.
Michael nodded to himself.
They would destroy the world in their arrogance. But no more...
A Legionnaire fumbled for his side-arm with slick fingers until he fell still, blood streaming from his neck.
No more...
The void burned bright with molten lava that flowed into the hollow recesses, setting every nerve tingling with power.
Michael held a hand towards the sky, bullets bouncing metres from his body like swatted flies. Let them see the face of a Fallen Angel. Let them know terror.
With an effort that left sweat dripping down his temples, he spun pure Earth, jagged spires like cave-less stalagmites splitting the dusty ground amidst the rebel forces who reeled in confusion.
Run, blind ones. Ignorance will not save you.
With Fire and Air the spires erupted and shattered. Hundreds of white-hot chunks wrought havoc among the rebels as they dropped amidst the bloody ruin that he had created.
Some attempted to flee, others bellowed in anger and furore fuelled a renewed rampage, trampling the bodies of their fallen comrades. None were granted mercy.
Michael spun Fire and Spirit, lashing out with crackling whips of flame that carved through the enemy. He spun Air and Earth, with some extra effort, using the ground beneath their feet as a death-trap in something akin to natural Caltrops.
RPG missiles flew towards him in an arc but none reached their target, either hindered by the wall of Air or detonated by thin webs of Fire. Bullets hailed down upon him as he drew the rebels attention in full at last.
The wall of Air was pelted with the force of hundreds of rounds and Michael's endurance flagged. His offensive stopped as he redirected his strength.
Let the world tremble at the price paid in blood and fire...
With all of his strength not directed in defence, he spun a force of pure destruction. Fire, Air and Spirit coated thick, layer upon layer as the ball of blue fire hovered overhead beneath his still-raised arm.
Blood and fire...
The net was released and the blue flame soared towards the rebel forces in silent grace. As it hit, a storm of dust and flame blanketed the Legionnaires in what would be a brief moment of respite.
Breathing heavy breaths, Michael turned on his heels and - somewhat surprised - found Captain Istivak waiting with a LAV. The man at first only stared as Michael climbed into the vehicle.
"We shall retreat,"
he said in a strained voice, although his face was granite.
"What...What was that?"
Istivak managed, climbing in next to him in the back seat while those around him took their places. The motor hummed to life and it was not until they neared the evacuation site when Michael replied.
"A gift, Captain. For the fallen."
Edited by Michael Vellas, Jun 12 2014, 09:39 AM.
"She saw a flaring halo around his head, radiant in gold and blue. It shouted of glory and power to come"
"No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."