The Eye of Terror: End of Terror

[Shadow Chorus]

The Ork Warboss rolls his one organic eye at the notion of Abaddon waiting to recover his strength as Peterson takes his place.

"Feh. Just You'z wait, spikey grot." Gulgrim bellowed, rotating his cybork arm at the shoulder to make sure it was in full functioning order. "I'll give ya a sample o' wot you'z ken look forward to when I'z done wif yer little twiggy bodyguard. Den I'm comin' for ya, whether you'z ready or not."

Extending his cybork arm to the sky, a jolt of green lightning crackled down and impacted the palm of the metallic power klaw, the bolt arcing across the Warboss's body as he seemed to charge himself up with some residual energy.

And then Gulgrim was in motion, sprinting behind Cameron to join directly into the fight, guns spooling up and ready to fire at close range and power klaw scissoring open, ready to crush and pound against Peterson's form.

"The rest o' you grotz wot got kunnin' gubbins in yer 'eads, get yer' plans movin'! We'z gonna krush this git right qwik." Gulgrim bellowed to the rest of the companions as the smaller selection of them began the forward assault.

[Cameron]

Peterson seemed more than ready to welcome Cameron’s attack with open arms, but he detects a power surge in his slipstream and knows there is more than one attack coming. At the very last second, the myriad of chains emerging from his back seem to hoist him upwards at an alarming rate. He parries Cameron’s swords with his talons as he does so, and though the latent psychic energy contained within the blades jolts up his arms and into his body, this only seems to amuse the former Space Marine. Meanwhile, Danyael finds his attack hindered by another bundle of chains that enter the space between him and his target. His attack severs them easily but slows him down just enough that Peterson is able to avoid him. Peterson swings around behind Cameron, intending to counter-attack both him and Danyael.

At the same time this is happening, Kitharsis opens the tesseract surrounding the Book of Magnus. Almost immediately, a bright light issues out from the opening, the soul of Ahriman preparing for resurrection. As Soul Reaver launches an all out attack on the sphere of chains seperating himself from Abbadon and the Rune, Abbadon’s voice rings out from inside it.

“PETERSON! THE BOOK!”

Distracted, Peterson looks to his left and sees the book beginning to float off the ground. As his gaze shifts to it, a chain bursts forth from the mass and rips the book out from inside the tesseract, freeing it. The chain is alight with green fire, which doesn’t damage the book but does seem to delay Ahriman’s return.

Sepher has yet to move, still surveying the situation to determine the best opportunity to strike. Seeing that Peterson now has possession of the book, he springs into action.

I can’t allow him to have that. Who knows what he intends to do with it.

Sepher leaps forward, leaving a blur of bronze energy behind him. He collides with the chain holding the Book, and in an immense show of strength, rips it from the chain’s grasp despite being burned by the Chaos fire surrounding it. Almost immediately, he can feel Ahriman’s soul stir within. Perhaps he can absorb it, as he’s absorbed the souls of the countless daemons that he controls? Sepher focuses his mind…

...and is therefore completely unaware of what happens next. As Peterson howls in annoyance, he suddenly has to divert his attention back to the fight to fend off the attacks of Gulgrim.

“Abbadon, buddy, A little help?”

Soul Reaver continues to slash at the chains with Blooddrinker, carving through them like a hot knife through butter. But for every chain he severs, another two take its place and he seems to be making little progress. But as Peterson speaks, a small hole opens just above where Soul Reaver is focusing his efforts. A harsh white light pours out of the hole, and inside can just barely be made out the still robed figure of Abbadon, clutching the Rune with both hands, siphoning the souls within into themself. They pry a hand away from the rune and gesture outward through the hole, and then it slams shut again, overrun with more chains.

An eldritch pattern of magic forms around Sepher and the book. Mary, who had been about to move to help Soul Reaver, sees this and throws herself at Sepher, screaming a warning. Sepher has just enough time to break his concentration away from his battle with Ahriman’s soul and look up, and then the pattern crystalizes and closes over them. There is a flash, and when it fades, the Book and Sepher are gone. Removed from this plane of existence. Mary passes through the space where they had both occupied a fraction of a second later, too late to matter. Peterson laughs.

“Perfect! No more Book, and you managed to get rid of that bronzed fool as well! That makes this much less complicated.”

Abbadon’s voice rings out again from inside the sphere.

“Good. Now do your job and stop distracting me.”

Peterson allows his chains to pull him back towards the sphere, where he now hovers over top of it.

“Come on, then! Stop worrying about what Abby is doing! FIGHT ME! You know you want to!”

Peterson throws his arms back and waits to see which of the Companions makes the next move.

[Soul Reaver]

Soul Reaver carves away at the shell surrounding Abaddon, apparently with little effect.  When the Book of Magnus is revealed, Soul Reaver's outstreched hand exerts a powerful telekinetic pull on it, but it is janked away by an animated chain before he can grab it.  Frustrated, but knowing the book is not the primary component of his plan, he returns his attention to Abaddon's self-imposed cage.

He does not see Sepher sever the chain, but he does see Abaddon's mistake - opening a small slit in the metallic cocoon, large enough for Soul Reaver to see inside.

Soul Reaver barely has a chance to register the feeling of Sepher and the book suddenly winking out of this plane of existence.  Though his heart falls heavy, Soul Reaver cannot allow anything to distract him from his goal.  He had seen inside the prison of chains, and that glimpse was all he needed.

A single word of magic and his body vanishes in a flare of red light, teleporting himself with precision into the cocoon.

On rematerialization, he intends to thrust his ruddy blade at Abaddon's midriff, while wresting the same power from him that he was attempting to use.

[Veldanya Venalla]

The Seraphim watches as events transpire around him.  Sepher and the book vanish, Soul Reaver advances on Abaddon....and Peterson....he floats above the chain "wall" shielding Abaddon, his voice dripping of insult and sarcasm. 

“Come on, then! Stop worrying about what Abby is doing! FIGHT ME! You know you want to!”

Jharm grips his hands tightly, power swelling within him.  Extending his hand out towards his dropped weapon, the hammer glows and seems to disappear.  It reappears in both of his hands, its size seeming to be...diminished ever so slightly, as if to better accommodate wielding two such weapons at the same time.  Gazing up at the fallen Space Marine, the Seraphims eyes glow brilliantly, anger thick in his voice.

"There was a time where I had hoped redemption was possible for you Peterson.  Where I had hoped some part of the good man I once knew dwelt within you still.  Events have made it quite clear that such hopes were for naught.  Justice...and punishment.  That is all that remains.  Order must be upheld..."

As he speaks, the Seraphims figure rises up until it is level with Petersons.  His figure glows and then seems to flash brilliantly, the angellic warrios form now wreathed in white flames.

"A fight you shall have!"

As he finishes the words, Jharms form surges forward, headed directly for Peterson.  No words are needed, it is quite clear that the Seraphim intends to either crush his one-time comrade....or die in the attempt.

[Kitharsis]

The tesseract opens, the book reacting immediately.  Kitharsis grits his teeth and tries in vain to shut the Tesseract again.  One of Peterson's chains snatches the book away, foiling anything Kitharsis's efforts.  He lowers the skull and stops channeling through it, the tesseract shatters and fades away having served its purpose.

But then Sepher wrests the book away and begins focusing intently on it.  This catches the attention of both Peterson and Abbadon, who act quickly to neutralize Sepher's actions.

The chain cacoon opens with a small hole, revealing Abbadon inside.  It's clear that he is siphoning the power out of the rune.  Something that must be stopped.  Kitharsis reaches out to every bag of sand hanging from his belt.  Not nearly enough.  His hand digs into a pouch on the side of his belt, retrieving a rough piece of sandstone.  He channels energy through it, activating the runes scrawling over its surface.

With a grin, Kitharsis chucks the glowing sandstone at the chain cocoon.  Upon impact the runic sandstone explodes into a huge mass of living sand.  The sand washes over the chain cocoon, writhing and spinning and grinding.  The mass of sand is overwhelming.  It wears at the chains, pouring through any gaps it is able to create.  If left unchecked, it will make a beeline toward Abbadon inside.  And if it does reach him, it will continue grinding and burning at Abbadon's flesh itself.

The mass of sand is supercharged with Kitharsis's energy and will.  It should effectively block off Abbadon from Peterson, allowing Soul Reaver time to have his way with him inside the cocoon if he is able to teleport inside.

[Danyael]

There was already enough going on, more than enough to be monitoring at the same time. But with eyes like the Nephilim lord’s it was hard not to be aware of everything coming to a head all at once. So much energy flaring in all directions roaring into and out of existence. It was no surprise that Petersen’s retaliation would be swift and ferocious, but Danyael’s perception of time all around him still remained in slow motion. The deflection took him back a pace and he felt the coming attack from Abbaddon’s apprentice. But there were other events in play on the field.

With the Book and Sepher winking out of existence, the Nephilim lord watched the sudden blankness of absolute absence where both the book and the warrior once stood, the brilliant energy silhouette of Mary dashing through the absence in an attempt to save both. Danyael turned eyes toward the delayed dance of motion where Soul Reaver began to spin another spell. The warrior’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

There were too many players on the field and while Peterson was accumulating aggro, Abbaddon was well on his way to enacting his own machinations. His eccelerated speed still engaged, he watched the energies around him swirl in a storm as the companions and Peterson prepared to engage, with himself between both. And then Soul finished his spell.

Watching the energies around soul thunder to life, Danyael pooled as much power as time could permit, collecting and compacting until his frame could hold little else, turning himself toward Soul Reaver just as Peterson’s chains began to pull him to the top of the sphere. And with rocket-like efficiency, the energy explodes in all directions, propelling Danyael on a tendril of sunfire directly at Soul as the energies around the warrior enclose him in a teleportation spell.

Adroitly, he latches onto the residual energies of the spell moments before they dissipate, piggybacking on Soul’s signature toward his intended destination where he too breaks forth inside the cocoon behind Soul. Winded from the endeavor, he still manages to unsheathe the yamato, using the momentum of the teleport to hurl him forward, aiming the sword directly at the Despoiler's throat.

[Shadow Chorus]

The other companions had their own strategies. They all knew how they worked together, they all knew what they wanted. That meant nothing to Gulgrim. He was looking at his next fight, and lightning began to dance across his frame as he began his juggernaut assault. Guns blaring at point blank as he charged, power klaw slamming and scissoring for Peterson's chest, Green fire blasting from the Ork's mouth. Jharm was already soaring forward wreathed in white fire. Gulgrim wasn't about to let the Angel get all the fun.

"Come on ya spikey git! It'z time ta get stuck in!" Gulgrim bellowed as he launched his assault, his voice returning to that echoing, WAAAGH!!! Infused roar as his power continued to build. Gulgrim was on the warpath, and that meant that battle was only going to get more explosive in the coming moments.

[Daccio]

Darkness.

That's all sepher could recognize, was darkness.

It took some time, but slowly his other senses returned. He found himself unable to breath as he floated in an airless void, wherever he was.
As his sense of touch came back, he realized that in his hands he held the book. The book of Ahriman's that had caused them so much trouble.

Having no idea where he was, or how much time he had, he knew he had only one task before him.

The soul.

The soul of the bastard sorcerer that inhibited the book and yearned to get free.

A pulse of white light jetted out from him, illumninating the area before it went dark again, as he gathers his strength.

A second pulse. then a third. The light bcomes steady.

He put his hand on the book, and started again the battle with Ahriman's soul.

A battle of wills it was, sepher gasping as he lacked the air he needed to get a breath, but slowly, he could feel the other's soul slip. With a slam of force that blew him through the airless void and knocked him unconcious, losing his grasp on the book, he trapped the soul in his brain.

He floated in the void, souls in his head quiet for once, unconcious.

In his mind he wasn't sure if he was going to make it back from this... but he had done all he could to help the others. Now he could rest.

[Cameron]

As Soul Reaver appears inside the cocoon, he is greeted with a ghastly site. The figure once known as Kalana and now serving as the host for Abbadon the Despoiler, has thrown her hood back. In the split second between Soul Reaver’s arrival and his attack, he gets his first full view of her face. Her once blue hair has gone completely white and is frayed and patchy in places. Her skin is pale and gaunt, pulled taught over her skull and torn in places. Her mouth is pulled into a rictus grin. The hole in her face and skull from where she was impaled remains, and her remaining glowing eye is sunk deep into its socket. It swings wildly towards Soul Reaver as he lunges forward with Blooddrinker.

“No.”

In a movement so quick that it almost doesn’t register, Abbadon strikes Blooddrinker off course with Drach’nyen. The daemon blade is pinned to the side of the cocoon by it’s chaos tainted rival just as another flash directly behind Soul Reaver betrays the arrival of Danyael. Abbadon snarls.

“NO.”

Danyael’s attack is cut off by another wall of chains that wraps itself tightly around Abbadon and the rune, leaving no room for anything else. At the same time, the outer cocoon is suddenly breached in multiple places by a tidal wave of warm sand. The sand washes over both Soul Reaver and Danyael as it slams against the much smaller inner cocoon, forcing it’s way through the chains even as they attempt to squeeze tighter.

Peterson, still outside of the cocoon, had noticed Soul Reaver and Danyael’s teleportation and had shifted his focus to the chains inside the cocoon, which had more than likely saved Abbadon’s life. He is having trouble detecting his employer now due to the sand, but the chains are a physical extension of him and can still be controlled. He intends to do something about the sand next but is interrupted by Jharm’s attack. Peterson throws himself upwards, barely avoiding the twin hammer blows as he rolls over the Seraphim’s head and drops behind him.

“I’m sorry, friend! Did you say something! I was a bit distracted-”

Pererson is cut off as Gulgrim bellows a challenge from his left. He shifts his body just in time to catch the power klaw with both sets of steel talons, using all of his strength to bring it to a halt before it can rip into his outer carapace. Meanwhile, he is being bathed in green fire, which is not a pleasant experience. And of course, there is still the Seraphim to his right, and Cameron-

Peterson looks up. Cameron is in the air above himself and the ork, falling fast and looking to jam both Nemesis force blades directly into Peterson’s face.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Diverting a number of chains away from their battle with Kitharsis’s sand, Peterson is able to yank himself away from Gulgrim and avoid Cameron’s attack, though the Space Marine manages to sever a number of the remaining chains as he passes. The outer cocoon sags, letting even more sand pour in.

Inside the inner cocoon, Abbadon seethes. She is slowly being crushed to death, with the rune burning into her midsection.

“He wasn’t even able to distract them for a few minutes. Utterly useless.”

She can feel sand beginning to creep it’s way into the confined space and tear away at her not yet completely regenerated flesh. There’s no time left to concern herself with draining the souls from the rune safely. She begins using a bony finger to retrace eldrich patterns on the rune itself, altering it’s composition. She finishes just as she feels her bones starting to crack from the pressure of Peterson’s attempt to keep the sand at bay.

“If I am to finally die today, it will not be like this, crushed to death in the dark. I will either go out in a conflagration of my own creation, or rise like a phoenix from the ashes.”

Abbadon momentarily considers warning Peterson of what is about to happen. But only momentarily. She strikes a horizontal slash through the face in the rune, and everything goes white.

From their position inside the outer cocoon, Danyael and Soul Reaver are the first to feel the massive shift of power and feel the immense heat and light now pouring out of the inner cocoon. The two companions have a split second to react before the inner cocoon is obliterated and they are struck by a blast of such magnitude that it shatters reality.

There is a massive explosion, briefly contained by the outer cocoon. Peterson sees what is coming and tries to untie himself from the mass of chains, but there isn’t enough time. A secondary explosion levels the entire top of the Spire, engulfing the Companions and Peterson in waves of fire, rock, sand, and metal shards from the chains. Peterson himself is hurled from the top of the Spire, his burning body falling to the ground far below. The fate of the rest of the Companions is not immediately clear.

[Veldanya Venalla]

The Seraphim grunts in annoyance as his attacks miss the fallen Space Marine.  He turns to continue his attacks, just in time to see Peterson just barely avoid getting trapped between the combined assaults from Gulgrim and Cameron.  A moment later he senses a sudden and massive power spike from within the chain "coccoon".  Jharm barely manages to summon a protective shield around himself when suddenly everything explodes.  The force of the explosion launches the Seraph warrior upwards in the air, his shield managing to absorb most of the blast, though it is destroyed by all the debris.  Injured and disoriented, the Seraphim is able to only keep himself from moving away from the ruined tower, eventually plummeting back down and crashing into the floor of the room they were fighting in a few moments ago.

As the dust slowly begins to settle around the area, a dim glow can be seen from within the small crater caused by the Seraphims crash landing. A groan of pain escapes from his lips as he slowly rolls onto his side and then onto his hands and knees.  Reaching out one of his gauntleted hands, he grasps the long handle of his hammer, the weapon having somehow remained in his grip during his sudden ascent.  His form continues to glow softly as his restorative powers flow through him, healing the worst of his injuries as he slowly begins to stand up, using his weapon to support himself on briefly.  Glancing around he tries to see who else remained after the massive explosion.

[Soul Reaver]

Abaddon's new appearance - a mockery of what Kalana once was - sends unbidden pangs of guilt through Soul Reaver's subconscious.  But fighting the reanimated puppet corpses of former companions is something that he has had to do before, and he had long ago learned not to allow his feelings to dissuade him from what had to be done.  As such, his eyes still appear cold and focussed as he thrusts Blooddrinker forward.

Unfortuantely for Soul Reaver, Abaddon was still wielding Drach'nyen, and the daemon blade coutnered just as fast as Blooddrinker could swing.  The two swords clashed with a clang, deflecting what had been meant to be a killing blow and embedding Blooddrinker's tip in the walls of the chain cocoon.

However, the move had left Abaddon wide open, and Soul Reaver feels another burst of energy beside him - fortunately he recognizes the spiritual signature as that of Danyael, and not of a foe.  From the corner of his eyes, as though in slow motion, he sees Danyael launch forward, Yamato glittering eerily in the light cast by Abaddon's rune.

But then their hopes are dashed as more chains burst up around Abaddon, wrapping him and the rune in a tight embrace.

Drach'nyen is thus forced away from Blooddrinker, leaving Soul Reaver free to act.  He draws his sword back and another spell begins to form on his lips while a storm of animated sand suddenly bursts through the outer cocoon.  It rushes past him and Danyael, grinding away at the inner chain barrier.  Combined with the Shatter spell that Soul Reaver was in the midst of uttering, and a focussed blow from Blooddrinker, Abaddon was all but finished.

Yet victory would not come so easily.  Soul Reaver SEES a phenomenal energy spike bloom within the cocoon.

He abandons the spell.  It was irrelevant now.

If he did not act, he and Danyael would both perish.

Danyael hears a single word echoing in his head.

Shield!

Soul Reaver bodily tackles Danyael, in so doing interspersing himself between the imminent explosion and the Nephilim.  And then both are consumed by a blaze of red light as Soul Reaver emergency teleports them as far from Abaddon as he could, appearing clumsily in midair near one of the far walls of the tower as a dazzling light blazes from the outer cocoon...

[Kitharsis]

Kitharsis relishes the battle of wills as Peterson's chains contest the sand within the cocoon.  He can tell that it is reaching Abbadon already.  Victory seems close.  Hoping for a final push to end the threat of Abbadon for good, Kitharsis puts more effort into the living sand.

In an instant a massive explosion rocks the cocoon.  Kitharsis reacts as if struck by it, even from a good distance away.  He staggers backward, realizing that there is precious little time before the explosion escapes the sand filled cocoon.  The speed rune on his shoulder bursts into life with a surge of energy.  Time seems to slow around him as the rune takes effect.  He hopes that it will stretch the fractions of a second he has to react.

Every other tattoo on his body activates, pouring forth strands of red energy that twist around his body.  They build upon each other, creating a thatch work barrier.  The skull tattoo is also doing work, as massive skeletal hands appear and wrap around the barrier as it grows.

The secondary explosion happens in an instant, even with his heightened speed it levels the spire around him in the blink of an eye.  The majority of his defences are ripped away as if they were paper mache.  What is left still buffers him just enough to ride the expanding edge of the explosion.  His back plows through the wall of the spire as he focuses on maintaining a thread of a shield in front of him.  He is pushed out and up, disoriented by the flash of the explosion.  As he falls, he lashes out with tendrils of whatever energy left he can muster, seeking something to grab and stop him from careening all the way to the ground below.

He finds purchase on a section of the spire nearly halfway to the ground.  His descent is abruptly stopped as he slams into the side of the obsidion wall. 

Kitharsis finally takes a breath.  Below he can see the entrance to the spire, where the companions shared a rest before ascending.  If only he could be smiling and sharing candy with the others right now.  He weakly laughs at the thought, sending knives of pain stabbing all over his body.

[Danyael]

‘tis a rare thing when Danyael, in all he had experienced thus far, could be taken completely off guard. And that’s precisely what happened. He heard a word roar in his mind, coming from none other than Soul Reaver himself. Shield! the warrior yelled and the Nephilim lord is suddenly hurled in the opposite direction from a body tackle by Soul himself. In a snap, the teleportation spell puts them randomly near the far walls of the tower, but the explosion seems to follow hot on their tails as it expands outward in all directions. It was now Danyael’s turn to act. And it was going to hurt. Again.

The everworld cloak could shield against much, but all objects break down from overuse when not allowed to recharge. And the cloak had been put through already too much. The Nephilim lord closed his eyes, focus tracing over the tattoo of the tree of life across his body beneath his wardrobe, reaching out to the red wings wrapped around the tattoo’s summit. Another pull of will threaded through the wings themselves as they sprung to life in a radiant burst, growing large enough to enswathe both men.

The wings outstretched, then clamped hard in a solidified aegis, locking around both men to shield them from the blast, which slammed hard into them with meteoric force, hammering them from the air and into the ground with a bang. Danyael screamed aloud as the explosion began to burn his wings away, bit by bit, feather by feather, though the wings continued to shield both men anyway as the Nephilim lord refused to relent. The wings were thick. The wings were strong. And his will for both to survive was stronger. Even as the hellfire slammed against the winged barrier, the wings themselves did not budge - stalwart against the assault.

As the fire and fury fades, what is left of the winged cocoon around them is a charred, burned out cinder. But both warriors are very much alive. The Nephilim lord, snapping from the daze of barely clinging to wakefulness, unfurled his once vibrant rubicund wings as they quivered back into the living artwork of his tattoos. He had no idea he was clutching Soul so protectively, reflecting that in spite of his distrust and hatred of the man, he still protected one of his own. He nodded weakly, respectfully uncurling around Soul. His body felt like it had been set aflame twice over and still wasn’t yet cooling down, even with his healing factor practically on auto-pilot, mending the damage. Taking a breath, he darted his senses in all directions. "Kith..?" his voice was hoarse, but he called out. Then another realization brought horror to the forefront, as he revealed such emotion for the first time. “Mary…!” he huffed, though he couldn’t yet get to his feet. “Mary!” he called out into the emptiness.

[Shadow Chorus]

"GAHAHAHA! YA SPIKEY GIT! COME ON AN' GET SOME MORE OF OL- Wot?" Gulgrim's head snaps to the chain barrier as he senses the massive spike of power. The WAAAGH!!! Energy surrounding him lashes toward it, seeking the big fight that it sensed, but Gulgrim's kunnin' head had to keep it in check. Instead, it ripped up the earth around Gulgrim's feet and formed a barrier in front of him. That wouldn't be enough to stop the force of the explosion, but Gulgrim would take a boulder to the face over a direct blast of that magnitude any day of the week.

The explosion detonated, the blast wave sending the rock barrier careening directly into the warboss, who went hurtling out the side of the tower, crashing through multiple walls before he went. His head still reeling, he looked around as he spun end over end toward the ground below.

"T'aint the fall wot hurtz ya. So'z I'z not gonna land." The Warboss muttered to himself. A few moments later, with a sound like Screaming engines, Gulgrim's attention was diverted to something coming his way.

"Glad ya could make it, ya old Git. Welcome ta me WAAAGH!!!" Gulgrim bellowed, reaching out and catching a loose handhold on the Fighta Bomma that soared past him, jerking off of his falling perch onto a swiftly flying one.

"Gulgrim Bonecruncha!" The Ork voice inside bellowed as he popped one of the numerous hatches that made up the entryways onto the plane. "It's Gud ta see ya know 'ow ta make an entrance!"

Gulgrim slowly clawed his way inside the Fighta Bomma, still dizzy from the explosion, and lurched himself into one of the numerous drop-seats that would normally be occupied by a group of Stormboyz. Taking a moment to reorient himself, he looked up to see the Pilot of the plane, an Old-looking (for what that meant to an Ork) git with a fancy cap adorned with an Ork skull symbol, a cybork left eye, and a pair of angry, taloned cybork legs.

"Boss Zagstruck!" Gulgrim bellowed with a deep, throaty laugh. "I'z should be sayin' dat ta you!"

"Ah, no time fer tradin' wit ya big git." The Grizzled Nob said, the plane steering back around to face the tower again. "Where we headed?"

"Right back ta da gud fight." Gulgrim said, indicating the rubble remains of the top of the tower. "'S time ta get stuck in."

[Cameron]

Cameron, having just hit the ground after his attack on Peterson, and Mary, still reeling from her failed attempt to save Sepher from an uncertain fate, sense the energy pulse at the same time. They both look towards the center of the chamber as the first explosion triggers, lighting up the cocoon of chains with a hellish glow. Cameron sees the chains bulge outwards and knows they won’t hold.

Mary is about to attempt to teleport when she feels an all too familiar pull from her right. Cameron has tossed the Nemesis force blades aside and drawn Valermos and Anathros. As he does so, his eyes go completely gold and wings burst from his back. Time seems to slow for the two elementals. Cameron makes eye contact with Mary and nods. She nods back before drawing Morthoseth.

Mary’s transformation, identical to Cameron’s, completes just as the chain cocoon gives way and the secondary blast rips through the chamber. With barely any time to act, Cameron and Mary rush towards each other. They meet in the center of the chamber. Their wings wrap around each other, concealing them completely. Gold energy swirls around the makeshift shield as the explosion consumes it and everything else.

After the explosion, there is nothing left of the upper chamber of the Spire but a cracked and partially unstable floor. Warp energy spills out of the hole in the center unchecked, no longer shooting into the sky as a single beam, but instead flowing into the air like blood gushing from an open wound.

As the smoke begins to clear, the remains of Cameron and Mary’s wings crumble to ash and blow away. The two elementals slump to the ground inside a circle of undamaged floor. The three elemental blades are embedded into the floor itself, forming a triangle around them. Mary finds herself resting on the bulky Space Marine armor that still holds Cameron partially upright.

“Are you hurt?”

Mary looks up at Cameron. His eyes, along with hers, have returned to normal. She sees that same hard glint in his eyes that has been there since he accused her of allowing Kalana to die back in the Labyrinth, but it seems to have softened somewhat. She pushes herself away from him and returns to her feet.

“No. I’m fine.”

She begins to turn away but stops as he speaks again.

“Thanks for the assist.”

The change in the tone of his voice causes her to look back, but Cameron has already returned to his feet and turned away. She is about to speak again when Danyael’s voice cuts through the remaining smoke and dust. She returns his shouts, her voice ringing with concern.

“Danyael! I’m here! Are you hurt?”

As Mary looks around for Danyael, she reaches to her side and rips Morthoseth from the ground. She moves to sheathe the blade but a armored glove grabs her wrist, stopping her. Mary turns seeing Cameron behind her.

“Cameron, what…”

Mary trails off as she sees Cameron’s face. He is staring past her into the center of the chamber with an expression of equal parts shock and disbelief. She turns her head, following his gaze.

Smoke, flame, and debris turn in a lazy circle around the former location of the cocoon. Within this circle, the figure formerly known as Kalana Ryoki and now irrevocably altered to that of Abbadon the Despoiler comes into view. The remains of her Grey Knights uniform hangs in tatters over her distorted frame. Her arms and legs have grown unnaturally long and muscular. The daemon blade Drach’nyen, bathed in blue fire, is clutched in her right hand. Her left hand has twisted and distorted into a biological replica of the Talon of Horus. The very bones of her hand have been shaped into foot long talons, with massive arcs of lightning flowing between them. Her face has been twisted into a gross approximation of her former beauty, with both eyes replaced by the soulless red pits previously seen through Abbadon’s helm, and her mouth twisted into an oversized grin filled with far too many razor sharp teeth.

Just behind Abbadon lies the rune. Drained completely, it lays flat on the ground, cracked and smouldering. Abbadon’s new form pulses with barely contained power.

“I did not gain nearly as much power as I would have if I had been able to undo the spell properly. And I would not have mutated this badly either. But this will have to for now.”

Abbadon locks eyes with Cameron.

“Besides, I feel like this is a vast improvement over the original. Don’t you?”

Cameron reflexively takes a step back. He grasps for the hilt of both Anathros and Valermos, but instead of pulling them from the ground he seems to sag, relying on the two blades and his power armor to hold him upright. There is no anger in his expression. Simply unchecked sorrow. Mary, seeing this, steps in front of him protectively.

“Hmm. You don’t look like yourself, Cameron. Do you need to sit this fight out? That’s fine. It seems that the rest of your friends survived the explosion as well. I’m sure they will oblige me until you start feeling up to it.”

Abbadon’s gaze sweeps the the area, marking each of the visible companions in turn. Her voice rises.

“Come! All of you! The time has come to end this once and for all! Face me, and prove yourselves worthy to stand at the epicenter of Chaos!”

[Veldanya Venalla]

As the dust finally begins to settle, the Seraphims gaze falls upon Abaddon's now fully revealed figure.  The Seraphs gauntleted fists clench tightly, his words so soft only someone next to him would likely hear them

"You....fiend.  One friend murdered....her corpse desecrated and defiled.  Another friend tortured  and tormented by it.  Billions of lives lost.  No.....more.  No more hesitation.  No more holding back.  No more...mercy.  All that remains is...."

As he speaks, his hammer falls from his grasp and crashes to the ground. His arms stretch out from his sides palms straight up as he begins to float upwards, his figure beginning to glow.

Light, let your strength and power flow through me.  Reveal your true power and might to crush this monster once and for all.  His victims...must....have....

The Seraphims eyes flare brightly as he bellows out the final word, just as a brilliant beam of light shoots down from above to completely envelop his figure.

"VENGEANCE!!!"

The beam begins to glow ever brighter until its painful to even gaze at and then just as sudden it disappears.  The Seraphim is standing on the ground once more, though his appearance has drastically changed.  While normally already a rather large figure, he seems to have gained another foot in height.  His armor and wings now appear as if molten gold, shimmering and almost flowing about slightly, droplets of gold dripping down onto the ground and disappearing.  His helm has disappeared, revealing his face.  His skin is now shining silver in color, his hair replaced by white flames.  In his hands he grasps dual sledges, similar in design to his normal weapon though now the heads are crafted of pure gold, white flames flowing over the surface.  The shafts seem to be crafted of deep black wood, almost charred in appearance.  His gaze locks on Abaddon once more, his voice booming out through the area

"You shall suffer for what you have done!  I shall strip your soul from that body and burn it into oblivion!"

Jharms form glows even brighter, seeming to radiate from within him.  While normally such things seem to have no effect on his friends, those of the Companions bearing any sort of "dark taint" can almost feel the light near them.  It's almost as if in his current state, the Seraphim is truly holding nothing back.  Letting out a deep growl he leaps through the air, both hammers raised to strike as he launches towards the Despoiler.

"NOW DIE!!"

[Kitharsis]

The skull tattoo glows dimly on his forearm.  With a little pop a tiny mage appears in a scattering of sand. 

"Hang on tight, and heal me."  He directs.  There isn't any time to mince words.

With a heave, Kitharsis pulls on the crimson tendril holding him to the Spire, propelling him upwards.  He whips out with his other arm, grabbing onto another jagged edge further up.  The air whistles in his ears as he ascends into the air at great speed.  Burts of white light flash on his body as the little mage gets to work on patching him up from the explosion. 

Kitharsis lands heavy on the top of the spire.  Abbadon's gaze marks him as he lands.  The disfigured body of Kalana issues a challenge to him and the rest of the companions.  Kitharsis's heart mourns for her, and for Cameron.  He grabs his pick from its sheath at his waist.  As his fingers wrap around the handle the head bursts into a fierce crimson as energy courses through it.

"You meet your end here, Abbadon."  Kitharsis says.

Curiously, Peterson has not returned.  Perhaps he has been overtaken by the explosion, but Kitharsis is not counting on it.

"Hurry up."  He says to the little mage, as it scuttles across his body.

[Soul Reaver]

Though he had little choice, Soul Reaver's trust in the Nephilim was not misplaced - his wings envelop both warriors and shielded them from the blast.  When they unfurl amidst qualms of black smoke, there was a narrow strip of wall and floor unmarred by the explosion, and both warriors were still alive amidst the devastation.

Soul Reaver has no time to express his thanks, as Danyael frantically checks on Kith and Mary.  Instead he levers himself back into a standing position.  Despite the devestation, he had come away relatively unscathed thanks to Danyael's efforts.

He could sense that his companions had survived the blast - though Kitharsis and Gulgrim were still some distance away from the tower, neither seemed to be falling or in immediate danger.  Cameron, Mary, Danyael and Jharm were all still here with them.

Just as urgent was the status of his foes.  Peterson had been blasted clear of the tower and as such may well have survived.  But Abaddon...

From the midst of the smoke and devestation, Abaddon's twisted form steps forth, taunting Cameron and the companions.

Abaddon's poisoned words are aimed at Cameron primarily, a knife to twist into his soul.  Soul Reaver glances at the elemental somewhat apprehensively - he had lost more than the rest of them, and it was hard to tell how he would react.  He hoped his anger would give him focus, and not turn into despair.

Some distance away, Jharm appears to be murmuring to himself.  Soul Reaver decides to take Abbadon's attention away from Cameron.  Thus he takes a step forward, raising Blooddrinker and pointing the tip at the twisted remains of Kalana.

"In all your days, you have brought nothing but misery.  You have never achieved anything of worth or merit.
Amongst the uncertainties in the multiverse, this I can say with conviction: I will draw a small measure of satisfaction from killing you..."

His lips pull into a mocking sneer and his eyes flash red.

"...again."

Then, to one side, Kitharsis hauls himself over the precipice of the tower, and to the other, Jharm's body is enveloped in a pillar of light, the Seraphim roaring his defiance at the evil he is facing.  His glowing aura washes over Soul Reaver, but although he can feel Blooddrinker writhing within the sword in disgust, Soul Reaver himself does not show any signs of being affected.

Jharm launches himself forward with righteous fury, the white fires of holy vengeance licking around his body, and Soul Reaver knows his ally will need support.

For a frozen moment in time as he prepares to charge, Soul Reaver thinks he can see them - Sepher to his left, a spear held in his fists, steely focus in his eyes... Fei Serumen on his right, standing nonchalant and his mouth giving a self-assured smirk... but then they are gone, leaving only a feeling of emptiness and loss.  This battle would have to be fought without them.

And with that, Soul Reaver thrusts himself forward, glittering red arcs of power sizzling from his body, and the words of a Lightning Bolt spell on his lips...

[Danyael]

Danyael pulled himself to his feet, the wounds healing as he gained ground, fully recovered by the time he’d found his footing. The grotesque abomination before the companions smacked of acrid energies seen through his warp-touched eyes. Indeed, the Despoiler did the namesake all the more justice when beheld through the Nephilim lord’s true sight.

As the Despoiler taunted, he remained silent, suddenly at the two Elementals, reaching out an assuring hand to help support Cameron just as he slumped backward when faced with the reality of the events at hand. He said nothing, as nothing need be said. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t preparing. With the yamato strapped to his side, his free hand began to pulse, then clench. A piece of will pushed its way to the space between his thumb and his index finger, the index and middle fingers, the middle and ring finger and the ring and pinky finger.

A moment later, he had pooled enough  energy to form four iridescent blue orbs between his digits, held deftly within the four spaces between them. He brought them, still clenched tightly enough, to his lips where he whispered three words: “…wait for it.” and let them fly free in a shot where they dashed omnidirectionally. Harmlessly, they bounded from wall to wall, clinking and clacking and eventually ricocheting off each other, but otherwise doing little else.

[Shadow Chorus]

The Fighta Bomma soared through the sky toward the ruins of the tower, its smoke-pouring exhaust pipes screaming angrily. As Abaddon made himself apparent, Gulgrim opened up the bomb hatch and prepared for the drop while Boss Zagstruck lined himself up and pressed the big red button with an angry ork skull on his fly-stick. The series of twin-linked big shootas lining the Fighta Bomma's wings opened fire at once, pelting Abaddon's general location with ballistic hell, announcing the arrival of the Orks once more onto the battlefield. As the angry red plane passed over the battlefield, Gulgrim leapt out of the bomb hatch, careening toward Abaddon from above, guns blazing, power klaw ready to slam down with crushing force.

Green lightning trailed behind Gulgrim as he descended like an Orky Comet, WAAAGH!!! energy building rapidly in excitement for one of the biggest battles of the Ork's history. Perhaps even more dangerous than every daemon prince Gulgrim had gone to war against, here was the biggest, baddest boy the spikey gitz had to offer.

"Da name's Gulgrim Bonecruncha! And I'z da avatar o' Gork an' Mork!" Gulgrim bellowed on his descent, announcing his presence to anyone who wasn't already looking toward him.