09-14-2016, 12:27 PM
Armande smiled at the sounds coming from behind the wall. The full throated wail ripped from the man's soul, its volume so loud as to be audible clearly from outside.
Pleasure bloomed in his stomach, warmth suffusing him, growing into his chest and groin, creeping up and down until his whole body quivered with joy, every fiber orgiastically releasing itself in ecstasy. His eyes burned hot, blue furnaces, blazing. Almost...almost it seemed as if the wall before him dissolved and he could see what was happening, as if he were in the room himself.
Apollyon, the Destroyer, the foretold bringer of doom. The Desolating Abomination. Man of Sin. Anti-Christ. Dragon. Hindu Demon Kali. Zoroastrian Ahriman. Mayan Nohochacyum. By whatever name he went, however foretold in prophecy, no matter what power he wielded, he was being consumed. Eaten. Devoured. He could envision the mark of the slain beast, the torn ouroboros serpent on his arm, as he reached out impotently, begging, futilely fighting.
How could Armande not rejoice at that? How could he be expected to not be overwhelmed with the agony of ecstasy, of awe at what had been wrought before him. What he had wrought. The fulfillment of prophecies untold had come upon them. But the mantle sat on his shoulders, the weight of the future of humanity comfortably resting there. Destiny.
So much to do yet, but the end began now. Regus lowered his weapon briefly, so Martin could set the charges. The cool smooth metal in his hand was at once comforting and intoxication itself. His thumb itched to switch it on again. This time the so-called god would see him, see his face, know his judgement. He would face the full brunt of the ADDS, with no barrier. He would see the Atharim bringing doom.
Weakened, dying, he would be eaten alive from the inside out. A serpent, burning in the flames, fiery divine heat wreathing him, his undying worm, now dying, the everlasting fire he'd brought to the world, finally quenched . Words came to his mind. "καὶ ὁ διάβολος ὁ πλανῶν αὐτοὺς ἐβλήθη εἰς τὴν λίμνην τοῦ πυρὸς καὶ θείου. And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur."
It was now!
Suddenly chunks of wall seemed to explode outward. Debris and dust hit him, knocking him to the ground, rolling him with chunks of concrete. He lost one of the ADDS in his hands, though he held on to the other through force of will. The pack he rolled with pressed uncomfortable up into his back as he came to be still on it, but only for a moment. His head was still swimming but his goggles had protected his eyes as he got to his feet in seconds, scanning his surrounds.
In front of him was a scene out of nightmare. In front of him was a scene out of his fondest dreams. Apollyon- No! Nikolai Brandon, the man who would be god- was writhing on the floor, as the Ijiraq hovered over him, mist quivering and shifting, the deep glow from inside now a blazing fire as it fed, the divine fury made flesh.
On the ground, struggling to get up from his knees, a black man- his face barely recognizable through the burns. The Sigma- face death, a smile and look in his eyes that promised death. That looked forward to it. That face, wreathed in burns, seemed death incarnate, hungering for it.
His eyes went to Martin and suddenly his Metatron flew backwards through the air as if hit with a car. Armande's eyes widened. Another god! He started to bring up his ADDS. His arm tried to respond but a stab of agony tore through his shoulder and his arm wouldn't move.
Betrayer!!! he shouted in rage at his weakened flesh. The spirit was eager, but his pathetic flesh was weak. Thought raced through his mind at the speed of light and just as quickly, the flick of his eyes and focus sent the drone at the godling to distract him, perhaps even to deliver its payload.
And then he heard the sentient yell something. His mind tried to parse the words, to understand what they meant. And then he understood. She was calling out to the others. To the Sigma.
Anger and disgust and betrayal exploded in his mind. It was not like Lisssandra. Not now, despite the small form and green eyes. This was hatred in its purest form. A creature who had lived at his sufferance had dared to turn on him. The white hot lava seared his veins and he immediately swung to her, all other thought gone, ADDS going to the other arm which would obey its master.
His thumb flicked the switch on as it focused on her.
Pleasure bloomed in his stomach, warmth suffusing him, growing into his chest and groin, creeping up and down until his whole body quivered with joy, every fiber orgiastically releasing itself in ecstasy. His eyes burned hot, blue furnaces, blazing. Almost...almost it seemed as if the wall before him dissolved and he could see what was happening, as if he were in the room himself.
Apollyon, the Destroyer, the foretold bringer of doom. The Desolating Abomination. Man of Sin. Anti-Christ. Dragon. Hindu Demon Kali. Zoroastrian Ahriman. Mayan Nohochacyum. By whatever name he went, however foretold in prophecy, no matter what power he wielded, he was being consumed. Eaten. Devoured. He could envision the mark of the slain beast, the torn ouroboros serpent on his arm, as he reached out impotently, begging, futilely fighting.
How could Armande not rejoice at that? How could he be expected to not be overwhelmed with the agony of ecstasy, of awe at what had been wrought before him. What he had wrought. The fulfillment of prophecies untold had come upon them. But the mantle sat on his shoulders, the weight of the future of humanity comfortably resting there. Destiny.
So much to do yet, but the end began now. Regus lowered his weapon briefly, so Martin could set the charges. The cool smooth metal in his hand was at once comforting and intoxication itself. His thumb itched to switch it on again. This time the so-called god would see him, see his face, know his judgement. He would face the full brunt of the ADDS, with no barrier. He would see the Atharim bringing doom.
Weakened, dying, he would be eaten alive from the inside out. A serpent, burning in the flames, fiery divine heat wreathing him, his undying worm, now dying, the everlasting fire he'd brought to the world, finally quenched . Words came to his mind. "καὶ ὁ διάβολος ὁ πλανῶν αὐτοὺς ἐβλήθη εἰς τὴν λίμνην τοῦ πυρὸς καὶ θείου. And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur."
It was now!
Suddenly chunks of wall seemed to explode outward. Debris and dust hit him, knocking him to the ground, rolling him with chunks of concrete. He lost one of the ADDS in his hands, though he held on to the other through force of will. The pack he rolled with pressed uncomfortable up into his back as he came to be still on it, but only for a moment. His head was still swimming but his goggles had protected his eyes as he got to his feet in seconds, scanning his surrounds.
In front of him was a scene out of nightmare. In front of him was a scene out of his fondest dreams. Apollyon- No! Nikolai Brandon, the man who would be god- was writhing on the floor, as the Ijiraq hovered over him, mist quivering and shifting, the deep glow from inside now a blazing fire as it fed, the divine fury made flesh.
On the ground, struggling to get up from his knees, a black man- his face barely recognizable through the burns. The Sigma- face death, a smile and look in his eyes that promised death. That looked forward to it. That face, wreathed in burns, seemed death incarnate, hungering for it.
His eyes went to Martin and suddenly his Metatron flew backwards through the air as if hit with a car. Armande's eyes widened. Another god! He started to bring up his ADDS. His arm tried to respond but a stab of agony tore through his shoulder and his arm wouldn't move.
Betrayer!!! he shouted in rage at his weakened flesh. The spirit was eager, but his pathetic flesh was weak. Thought raced through his mind at the speed of light and just as quickly, the flick of his eyes and focus sent the drone at the godling to distract him, perhaps even to deliver its payload.
And then he heard the sentient yell something. His mind tried to parse the words, to understand what they meant. And then he understood. She was calling out to the others. To the Sigma.
Anger and disgust and betrayal exploded in his mind. It was not like Lisssandra. Not now, despite the small form and green eyes. This was hatred in its purest form. A creature who had lived at his sufferance had dared to turn on him. The white hot lava seared his veins and he immediately swung to her, all other thought gone, ADDS going to the other arm which would obey its master.
His thumb flicked the switch on as it focused on her.