The Eye of Terror: End of Terror

[Danyael]

“So you’re going to hate me for this.” Danyael’s voice whispered by Mary’s ear, almost as if he were right there. But the only thing remotely connected to Danyael was his everworld cloak.

He had to act fast. But for all of the time spent in the warp, all he had done and could have done (or rather, should have done), he had no idea just what this man (if he could be considered that anymore) was capable of. And then the sorcerer’s book slammed shut. The Nephilim Lord burst into action, thrusting both the Yamato and the Orchid Howl into the ground behind him as he catapulted himself forward into a vanishing flash of alacrity.

”AS I WAS SAYING” the sorcerer talked on, but his voice was little more than a droned, long dragged noise, awkwardly slowed down. The rest of his words were a haze of tones, but the Nephilim Lord was all the more surprised at just how far the sorcerer actually seemed. This wasn’t a room. It was something else entirely. It had to be. But his target was still within view enough for a fixed direction.

”But it will be shortly”

Even with his speed, there were so many things to consider with so little time to do little else. And with an additional pulse to which he felt the sting in his muscles, Danyael’s speed expanded two-fold, bringing him directly in front of Ahriman just as the Sorcerer brought the stave down to unleash the black lightning. Though it meant certain death to the touch, the Nephilim Lord had just enough time (if not just barely) to hurl a fulminating shotgun punch directly at Ahriman’s armored face.

[Soul Reaver]

Soul Reaver draws in a sharp breath on recognizing the spell at the core of the rune, not to mention the complexity of the many other enchantments surrounding it.

But if Ahriman's words were to be believed - and it seemed they could - then he wasn't planning on unleashing the power of the rune until the companions, or at least some of them, were dead.  That at least would give him time.

He lands on the ground just as Ahriman finishes speaking, a patter of shattered staff pieces falling around him.  He begins to try and understand the control mechanisms behind the spell, in the hopes of finding some way of wresting them from Ahriman.   However, he knew his foe was a sorcerer of prodigious power, and his attempts would likely fail... unless, of course, the companions could keep Ahriman distracted.

Before he is able to properly put his plan into action, the Chaos sorcerer levels the staff toward the companions.  Soul Reaver realizes he has only moments to act.

In one hand, Soul Reaver swings Blooddrinker around in a reverse grip.  With the other, he performs an elaborate, graceful gesture, weaving the arcane words he now speaks to alter the channels of magic around him.

As the lightning is unleashed, Soul Reaver drives Blooddrinker's tip into the ground, crouching behind the blade like a shield, and completes his spell.

Rather than deflecting the black lightning, the sword - and the spell that pulses out from Soul Reaver - serves as a lightning rod, drawing the crackling, destructive power to the blade, with the intent of dissipating it harmlessly into the floor.

[Kitharsis]

The chamber behind the door encompasses the entire top of the spire.  The ceiling stretches 200 feet above them, supported by thick, menacing obsidian pillars.  Ahriman has view of the entire city and beyond.  Surely he was watching their every move as they travelled through the Eye.

A latticework of crystal backs a floating pedestal.  Clearly, the soul energy was being focused here.  The amount of it is monstrous, and if Ahriman is capable of drawing upon such a deep well of power there would be little hope to defeat him.

Ahriman speaks, explaining his malevolent machinations.  A vain attempt to justify all of his wrongdoing - his perverse idea of correcting the Multiverse.

Order from Chaos.  Right from wrong.  Daresay good from evil?

Kitharsis cannot help but look inward.  Was he not the same?  The darkness within him seems to writhe at the thought, pushing at the borders he put up long ago.  It calls to him, the seemingly unlimited power he keeps locked away.

He pauses, struck with the thought.  As Ahriman's word of power rips through the chamber, Kitharsis reacts quickly.  But he is detached, distracted.  It almost feels like he is watching himself go through the motions.  He leaps backwards before throwing himself into the air, dodging all but a few of the staff copies that threaten to impale him. Jharm's bubble appears around him as he leaps, and the skeletal mage on his shoulder pours additional magic into it, strengthening it just enough to ward off the few attacks that still find their target.

The skeletal mage, desperate, knocks Kitharsis upside the head.  The tiny fist strikes harder that it has any right to.  The whispers in his head cease, and the Tirthandara folds his wings and lands heavily on the obsidian floor.

"I am sorry, little one."

Kitharsis raises to his feet once more.  Others have launched attacks at Ahriman, to no avail.  It appears that the Companions were allowed here by Ahriman, only to be part of his plan of destruction.  Kitharsis seethes.  He will not become part of this foul work.  His focus regained, the tattoos littering his body flare to life.

Black lightning arcs through the room.  The power behind the spell is clear, even without his heightened senses.  With a roar, crimson energy pours through every tattoo on Kitharsis's body.  It stitches together into an encompassing, roiling sphere that surrounds him.

He charges forward, meeting the black lightning head on.  Any part of the shield that is struck by the lightning solidifies into a dark crimson crystal.  The crystal attempts to insulate against the dark magic.  If the crystals are not not destroyed by the force of the spell they will linger in the air around Kitharsis, ready for use in his next attack.

If his defense succeeds, Kitharsis attempts to leap into the air with what is left of his roiling shield.  As Danyael throws a punch at Ahriman's face, Kitharsis will try to take advantage of the moment.  His shield will separate and propel forward, crimson crystals and energy streaking toward Ahriman's flank.  Kitharsis will follow shortly behind, prepared to account for whatever evasive maneuvers Ahriman might take.  If possible he will strike out at Ahriman with crimson energy encased fists and thick metal boots.

"I have battled my own darkness for far too long, to only become part of yours!"  He shouts at Ahriman.  "Your power is a mere fraction of the darkness inside of me.  And you will fall short of the task!"

[Shadow Chorus]

As Gulgrim's Flash Gitz are cut down by a rain of obsidian shards, the Warboss merely extends his hand, catching a stray shard soaring for his face while others shatter and skid off of his armor. There is a torrent of Warp-fire behind the shards, however, and the Warboss is engulfed in the flames. The malignant blaze burns away at the outer layers of his flesh before a surge of green energy sends the chaotic flames scattering, the Warboss issuing a bellowing shout as the WAAAGH!!! Energy repulses the foreign magic. Already his flesh is peeling away and revealing new healthy green beneath, his wounds healing rapidly. But the Sorcerer has other plans for the entire group. Black lightning arcs across the room, intending on killing or maiming all in its path. Truly a dangerous spell, the essence of oblivion arcing across the battlefield toward Gulgrim's frame.

But he was empowered by the essence of conflict. Pure obstinate belligerence ran in his veins and coursed through his soul. Not even nothingness could hold back the sheer fight that existed in the Orkish race, and all of that fight was building within the Warboss the longer he stood on the razor's edge.

"You'z doin' a lot o' talkin', 'Umie. But I'z ain't 'earing nuffin' worf a single toof from ya."

Green lightning suffused the warboss and danced out to meet its ebon counterpart. Everywhere the twin sparks met, small explosions detonated, shattering the ground around the Warboss in a display of unbridled antagonism. A cloud of detonations swirled around Gulgrim, his energy protecting him from the lethal magics, but leaving no room for aiding anyone but himself. The others were on their own. But he wasn't about to let this be a lull in the battle for him.

"Maybe you'z should try speakin' wif a bit more FORCE!"

The Ork's shout is punctuated with a torrent of Orkfire from his mouth, green flames cutting through the explosion shield and blasting across the distance toward Ahriman.

[Cameron]

Ahriman sneers as Danyael lunges towards him. Despite Danyael's increased speed, Ahriman can still clearly follow his actions. And his actions are futile. The black lightning will clearly engulf him before he reaches Ahriman. But Ahriman prepares a defense anyway, just to be safe.

And it is fortunate for him that he did. Because just as Danyael reaches the black lightning that by all accounts should have wiped him out of existence, a burning shield of pure warp energy appears around him, deflecting most of the dark energy away from him. A few of the bolts still arc across him, but it is not enough to kill him. Mary, who has dropped in behind him to shield him, also takes some of the blow meant for him. Though her own shield and the Everworld Cloak prevent it from being lethal, she is still stunned out of the air and to the ground. This still would have been lethal due to the remaining black lightning, but all of the magic at ground level has been pulled into Blooddrinker and dispersed. Thus, she hits the ground unconscious but still breathing.

The end result of this is that Danyael's punch strikes Ahriman head on. A powerful enchantment seems to catch the punch at the last second and slow it down, but the sheer power of the attack causes it to carry through, though without the sheer lethal force that was originally behind it. It still catches the sorcerer square, cracking his mask and forcing him backwards into the crimson energy and shards that make up the remnants of Kitharsis's shield. The confident sorcerer feels this attack penetrate the back of his armor and tear into his flesh and becomes somewhat alarmed. And then he feels the build up of energy ahead of him, from the ork.

Orks aren't supposed to be this powerful, but then of course, no one that is weak would have made it this far. Ahriman mumbles the words of a haste spell under his breath and propels himself upwards. This allows him to dodge the remainder of Kitharsis's attack as well as get him out of the line of the oncoming ork attack. But something else is above him which he detects a second too late.

Cameron had flown to the top of the chamber and surrounded himself with a sphere of elemental and psychic energy to save himself from the black lightning. As this dissipates, he sees Ahriman rising swiftly towards him with his attention still focused on those below him. Cameron sees Gulgrim unleash a torrent of Ork fire and reacts accordingly, dropping like a stone and smashing his power armored boot into Ahriman's face.

Ahriman falls back to the earth and is unable to mount any kind of defense before being engulfed by ork fire. A death scream rips through the chamber as Ahriman's flesh is consumed. The smouldering wreck of his power armor clatters to the floor. For a moment, all is silent.

The Book of Magnus still hovers in the air near Ahriman's original position. The pages of the book seem to be idly turning.

[Kitharsis]

The attack connects.  It not only connects, the crystal shards and spears of energy pierce through Ahriman's armor and tear into his flesh.  Danyael's punch has sent the Sorceror directly into Kitharsis's attack. 

Surely it cannot be this simple, he thinks, as he strikes out at the thin air.  He looks above, watching eagerly as Gulgrim and Cameron finish the combination attack.

Kitharsis lands kneeling on the obsidion floor, eyes locked onto the pile of power armor that once held the Sorceror.  Was this it?

He stands, scanning the spire.  His eyes finally rest on the Book of Magnus, as it hovers in the air.  Pages still turn while the book's previous owner is supposedly lying burnt to a crisp below.

Kitharsis takes a defensive stance, tattoos charged and ready.  He reaches out with his heightened senses, straining to find any traces of Ahriman, or whatever was coming next.

[Veldanya Venalla]

The glowing shield around the Seraphim flares as the black lightning slams into it.  Sparks of light spray from each spot that the lightning strikes the shield as a cacophony of sounds, similar to metal grating against metal echo through the area.  Soon enough though the barrage comes to an end as the other Companions attacks manage to seemingly fell the malevolent sorcerer.  As the assault comes to an end the bubble vanishes, Jharm getting to his feet and glancing around.  Glowing orbs of light settle on the charred remains of Ahrimans armor, and then shift over to the floating book.  He extends a hand upwards as his figure flashes, a similar flash appearing around each Companion as they find any wounds they have received to begin healing and their strength to return to them slightly.   Moving forward he stops a short distance from the book, once more gazing between it and the fallen Chaos Lord.

"That was much too easy.  Something is amiss.  There is no way a powerful being such as Ahriman would have been felled that easily."

Something seems to pop into the Seraphs mind as his gaze shifts over to the glowing rune from earlier.  The Seraphim clearly shifts into a defensive battle stance as he shifts his gaze between Ahrimans fallen form, the floating book, and the rune.

"What trick have you got up your sleeve Ahriman?"

[Danyael]

Mary’s impact with the ground is less than a blink in time as she is swiftly swept up by the Nephilim Lord, pivoting into a spinning vault landing them both to a far enough distance of the ‘room’ while putting the Companions between them and what was left of Ahriman. Clutching Mary safely in his grip, he stood defensively, one foot positioned behind the other in preparation to leap back into action. He lowered one arm, letting her legs slowly, limply fall to the floor while holding her securely with the other. He then lifted his free arm with a silent command and the everworld cloak, while still draped to Mary, sprung to flaring attention, expanding to ten times its original size. With another command of will and a gesture of his free hand, the everworld cloak rooted itself to the ground, solidifying into a solid, reinforced cocoon. As the shielding began to solidify around them, Danyael let Mary go, the elemental now cushioned comfortably within the cloak’s embrace as it closed around her.

Now standing in front of the cocoon, he looked to the smoldering heap that was once Ahriman. If that was the end, it was a sour ending. But in all of the enemies the Companions had faced, the Nephilim lord didn’t expect this creature to be any easier. The book didn’t escape his notice, either. If it wasn’t that mage flapping his yap, it was the pages in his gadget doing the flapping for him. And that put the Nephilim Lord ill at ease.

[Daccio]

Sepher stood, as the black lighting arced towards all of the companions. A lot of it was drawn and grounded by soul, but there was still some streaking towards him. With a flick of his wrist, the crimson metal around his wrists became a staff of his own.

The deamonic corrupted bubble was still glinting in front of him. Using more chaos energy, he drew the energy into the end of the staff, the red now tinted with bronze. Like draws like and the staff he wielded drew the dark lightning towards him, where it slammed into the end of the staff.

With a spin, he slammed the staff head into the ground with a small explosion, the black lightning being redirected into the obsidian in a bright bronze flash. Shards of the black glass exploded back from him and shattered against the wall with the force of the lightning.

As his vision cleared, he would find himself looking at the smoldering heap of Ahriman on the ground and frowned, as the book floated in the air, pages lazily turning. Something was not right here. Something told him that it was going to get bad. The metal of the staff liquified, splitting in half, one half becoming a kite shield, the other half a short sword and he waited, watching for what happened next. Daemons railed against his soul as he began prepping to draw upon the power, but until he knew the situation, he wouldnt do anything.

[Soul Reaver]

Soul Reaver rises unscathed from behind his sword, a look of slight surprise on his face at Ahriman's sudden, almost anticlimatic death.

It seemed unlikely that he was dead.  But his sight could not see Ahriman's soul in the vicinity - as his gaze had been distracted, he could not tell if it had escaped or was merely in hiding.

Yet even if Ahriman was dead, his machinations might not be.  The Book of Magnus' pages were still turning and the malevolently glowing rune remained.

Soul Reaver strides forward with swift steps, his voice echoing through the chamber as he walks.

"A Sphere of Annihilation is bound into that rune, and it is drawing the souls of all the fallen into itself.  I dread to think what devastation it could wreak if it is not stopped."

He arrives near the massive book, its pages flipping with rustling whispers.

"I have not yet unravelled the intricacies of the spells that compose the glyph, but the answer may lie before me.

Watch my back, for we may yet be ambushed."

Soul Reaver drones three incantations - the first two to ward away attacks upon his mind.  The last is a powerful spell of Truesight, allowing him to see both the book and what is beyond it - including what force is responsible for keeping its pages turning.

He stands before it, one hands poised just beside its pages, the other still gripping the hilt of his blade.   He focuses his enchanted gaze upon its pages.....

[Cameron]

Soul Reaver's spell allows him to gaze deep into the enchantments surrounding the book. Each page obviously contains the blueprint and words of power of various different spells and enchantments. Written in variations of dead languages by hundreds of different hands. Soul Reaver's Truesight allows him to catch a brief glimpse of all of them... more than should be able to fit into a single tome. The vast collection of spells and rituals could fill a library, likely the aforementioned Black Library.

But the spell also allows Soul Reaver to gaze much deeper. And past the pages upon pages of spells, a much deeper magic is at work. The very book itself seems to be woven from thousands of different enchantments, tied together in intricate, impossible ways. The deeper Soul Reaver looks, the more intricate and harder to unravel the enchantments become. It has obviously taken an immense amount of time and energy to create this construct. Because that is clearly what the Book of Magnus is, Not a true tome, but a construct. Massively powerful, incredibly old, and very much alive. A living vessel containing multiple lifetimes of magical knowledge.

And underneath it all... an unblinking eye that stares back at Soul Reaver, until the book suddenly slams shut.

The book flies into the air just as Cameron lands next to Soul Reaver. He glances at the corpse, and then up at the book, before turning to Soul Reaver.

"What did you see? Is there a way to-"

Cameron is interrupted by a voice that tears through the chamber, simultaneously coming from everywhere and nowhere.

"Did you fools really think that I could possibly be bound to a physical body? That I would face you directly if I feared being destroyed in such a manner?"

The companions can clearly feel Ahriman's presence from all around them. Above them, the book glows brightly.

"Only a true fool, such as Abbadon. would fight you head on in a physical confrontation. That is why he failed, and why I will not."

The Book of Magnus cracks open again, and a beam of bright light shoots from it's pages. Ahriman re-appears, completely restored. A simple gesture causes his Black Staff to return to his hand.

"You will not be able to best me by brute force. Winning this fight will require you to outsmart me. And I guarantee you that will not happen. I have spent multiple lifetimes preparing for this very scenario."

Ahriman chuckles.

"I do have to admit, though, that I was not expecting to be bested in physical combat quite that easily. I am impressed. It seems that I should not have taken you so lightly."

Ahriman gestures at the massive rune below him. It flares to life, even brighter than before.

"There will be no more games and no more hesitation. I will finish this now. Both here, and outside."

Ahriman speaks a word and the patterns on the rune shift. Nothing seems to happen at first. But within a moment, Cameron's head jerks to the side, as if reacting to an unheard voice.

"No..."


The other Elementals and the remaining Grey Knight Marines, still defending the courtyard, suddenly find themselves being attacked from behind. Rubric Marines pour from the Spire, threatening to overwhelm their position. All around the city, Rubric Marines pour from hidden passages and platforms, attacking Imperial Marines, Tau, Eldar, Orks, Seraphim, and even their fellow Chaos Marines. Their goal is to destroy anything living. Casualties begin to mount on both sides. The Rubric Marines are not revived as they fall. And every soul of every life form killed, even the Rubric Marines themselves, are pulled towards the Spire...


The rune, already bursting with power, begins to swell even faster. Ahriman raises a hand in front of his face.

"That takes care of the battle. And while I'm at it, I think the batteries have also outlived their usefulness."

Ahriman closes his hand into a fist.


Deep within the bowels of the Labyrinth of Chaos, millions of screams ring out in unison as the massive slave batteries that power the Chaos world are extinguished in an instant. Millions of slaves, released from their torment. All of their souls, released at once, making their way to the Spire...

The Chaos City falls dark. Only the Spire remains active.


The rune glows so brightly that it can no longer be looked at directly. The amount of power now pouring into it from the Spire is overwhelming. Ahriman stretches his Black Staff towards it, and lightning arcs from the rune into the tip of his staff, supercharging it.

"Now everything is in place. All I require is the catalyst. It doesn't even need to be all of you. Some of you are carrying more than one powerful soul with you."

Ahriman levels his Black Staff directly at Soul Reaver, while pointing his other hand directly at Sepher.

"You two will do the job just fine. So please... die for me."

Arcs of super-charged magic explode from Ahriman's staff and outstretched hands. Both Soul Reaver and Sepher risk being instantly obliterated if these attacks hit their targets. At the same time, the shockwave from the two attacks will be enough to knock any of the other companions off their feet if they do not defend properly.

[Soul Reaver]

Soul Reaver is left momentarily stunned as the unblinking eye stares back at him from beyond the pages of the tome.  It was more than just a tome of dark magic, it was alive.  And when Ahriman reappears, he begins to suspect what exactly it is that dwells within it.

Though his thoughts whirl as he tries to formulate a plan, he has very little chance to act on his thoughts as Ahriman causes the magical rune to surge with power.  Even from here, Soul Reaver can see the souls of the slain rising from all around to feed its sinister enchantments - a show of spirit light that would be beautiful were it not so macabre.

Soul Reaver grits his teeth as Ahriman singles out himself and Sepher for his next attack.

Soul Reaver does not hesitate - his feet hit the ground hard and he launches himself away, interspersing himself between Ahriman and Sepher.  Blooddrinker is in his hands and as he breathes powerful words of enchantment, its surface is sheathed in a glittering field of anti-magic.  A subtle battle of wills would not be enough to stop Ahriman's masterfully-crafted magic, but Blooddrinker, he knew, would sunder all it struck.

He swings the sword with all his might, the blade unerringly intercepting the bolts of energy that had been meant for Sepher and himself.

He needed to buy his companions enough breathing room that they could keep Ahriman occupied, so that he could try putting the beginnings of his plan into action.

[Veldanya Venalla]

The Seraphim watches as Ahriman reappears above the book, his gauntleted fist clenching around the shaft of his hammer.  His thoughts are then almost overcome by word of additional Chaos troops appearing on the battlefield beneath them, seemingly attack anyone and everyone.

Hold fast my brothers and sisters, the Light shall be victorious!

Just as he sends this message he watches Ahriman close his fist.  The angellic warrior groans and drops to his knees, his massive form slamming into the ground as his mind is overcome by the massive wave of anguish as millions of innocent lives are suddenly snuffed out, their souls pulled into the rune before him.  A single shining tear slips out of his helm and falls to the accursed ground beneath him.

"No....the innocence...."

Then, seemingly as quick as the despair seemed to arrive it departs as the Companions can sense a sudden massive surge in power from within the Seraphim.  They also can sense something else....something that few can truly recall sensing from Jharm.  Anger....pure, absolute rage and anger.  His gaze raises up and locks onto the being responsible for the recent "slaughter", the Seraphs eyes glowing significantly brighter then normal.  His voice booms out through the room as
 a shield manifests around him briefly to absorb the shockwave emitted by Ahriman

"Ahriman!  You monster!  You speak of bringing order and yet you slaughter millions with a simple gesture!  No more!  I shall crush your malevolent skull beneath my boot!  The Light shall reap vengeance for the innocents!!"

His figure erupts in a brillant flash of light, pure white flames radiating around him as a large shield forms on his left arm.  Without further hesitation the Seraphim flies forward, the shield set in front of him, his hammer poised to slam down against the Chaos Sorceror before him.  For too long had he endured the heinous actions of the Chaos forces...too long had he watched as countless lives were tortured and destroyed by the evil before him.  No more...he would see it end here and now or he would be defeated and become one with the Light.

[Shadow Chorus]

Gulgrim digs his kutlass into the ground and holds fast as the shockwave washes over him, green lighting sparking and battling against the energies that sought to send him sprawling. As it washes past, Gulgrim notices that the brunt of these attacks had not been directed anywhere near him. He had been practically ignored in favor of other targets.

That wouldn't do. Gulgrim didn't like not being in the center of a scrap. He'd have to fix that right quick.

Green energy sparked across the ground near the Ork and rocks began to rip themselves from the ground, launching themselves at Ahriman's physical form while the Ork himself unleashed a hail of gunfire from the shoota in his left arm aimed directly for the book that floated in the air.

The rocks flying through the air sparked with green energy while they flew through the air, and whenever they broke open upon anything in their flight, they would reveal a bomb squig within their cores, primed to detonate with a barking roar as soon as their stony exterior began to break.

"You'z wanna talk kunnin', 'Umie?" The Warboss chuckled, the malicious grin belying the gears turning in his Orkish mind as yet more battle-plans were unfolding in his head, the one kind of plan that Orks could specialize in. "Ain't nuffin' wif more Brutal Kunnin' than Ol' Gulgrim Bonecruncha."

[Daccio]

As soul jumped in front of him, taking the brunt of the bolts, he knew that he had to take this opportunity to prepare for a counterattack.

He slammed the shield into the ground, kneeling behind it, as the wash of the shockwave slammed into him, though diminished by souls presence in front of him. The swords in his right hand melted back into a bracer, but he left the shield.

Soul, in front of sepher, could suddenly feel power that he had never felt from the shapeshifting warrior before. It welled up, incredibly powerful, as he continued to draw on his own chaos energy and the strength of his own mind and the daemons within him. Something big was coming, but he just needed a bit of time to get himself mentally ready, lest he immediately fall to the daemons in his head.


-----------------------------------

CAS, Vash's AI warned her as soon as new enemies poured out from new locations and her Tau warrior responded with lethal efficiency. She barked orders over her coms, pathfinder squads going dark as they snuck around to markerlight new targets. Vash herself painted targets with her own markerlight, which in turn caused the rail batteries on her ships to open fire on priority targets. The Tau would not fall, and in fact, they would counter attack, stealth suits attacking targets the larger, marker light guided missles and shots did not, fire warriors supporting where they could and crisis suits bounding in and out of combat. Drones zipped around, protecting the warrior with their shields

[Danyael]

Called it. Danyael thought to himself as the chaos sorcerer sprang back into action, his vicious attack no less artful than the one before. Stepping once more into focus, the approaching shockwave appeared as a gelatinous tidal wave, ebbing to a sluggish crawl as the Nephilim lord’s natural alacrity kicked in. His thoughts went to Mary, though he knew she wouldn’t hear them. He would stand his ground while she recovered, though worried just a tad less while the everworld cloak (now in its chrysalis form) would protect her in addition to his own efforts. That was the hope, at least.

He took one step forward, clamping his heel to the ground with force as he cemented himself into a basic Iaido drawing stance, his hands reaching out in a wide arc as his will extended to the Orchid Howl and Yamato in the distance. Both blades, on command, burst from the ground in a gout of embers, whirling through the air with disc-like blurring rotation to his left and right hands respectively. Twisting both blades into reverse grips, he lowered his stance ever so slightly, counting the approaching seconds as the shockwave came closer.

He took a heavy step forward, slashing down with the Orchid Howl, then another step followed by a slash from the Yamato, sending two arcs of screaming sonic power toward the shockwave. He repeated the process again. And again. And again. And again. And another handful more. To him, it was a drawn out process, but to the unattuned, he was a dissolved blur of motion, launching a single attack in the expanse of a wink in time. He repeated the process thrice more, as the attacks cleaved through the shockwave, leaving a breach just wide enough for it to rush past he and Mary just as time began to catch back up again.
As the shockwave whizzed into the distance, Danyael, only a few steps from Mary, backed up into a defensive dual sword stance; one arm raised and the other lowered, his blades whirling into readiness in his hands.

[Kitharsis]

Ahriman's voice tears through the chamber, revealing no surprise from Kitharsis.  The Tirthandara grits his teeth as Ahriman's body re-appears from within the Book of Magnus.  Was the Book of Magnus merely holding Ahriman in safetly, or did the chaos sorceror do away with his physical form completely?

Regardless, the book seems to be the proper target, with the massive rune being the second.

Super-charged magic explodes from Ahriman's staff, hell bent on destroying Sepher and Soul Reaver both.  Soul Reaver is quick on the defensive, parrying the magic for both Sepher and himself simultaneously.

Kitharsis braces himself as the shockwave from Ahriman's attack moves through the room.  A barrier of sand rises up in front of him, absorbing the force of the blow.  It recedes back into a bag on his belt just as quickly as it appeared.

A brute force attack would not have any effect, that much is clear.  This would take finesse, something Kitharsis was not particularly well versed in.

[Cameron]

The battle for the Eye of Terror continues to rage across the Chaos City, but the addition of the Rubric Marines has disrupted everything. Squads of Imperial Marines and Chaos Marines had dug into various positions to fight each other but now find themselves flanked by Rubric Marines intent on killing all of them. The Chaos Marines are caught the most off guard, as most of them saw the new arrivals as reinforcements and therefore did not immediately try to regroup or mount a defense. Now the Chaos forces are in disarray, unable to get reorganized. The Imperials are faring better thanks to the various Orks, Eldar, Tau, and Seraphim still joining them in the fight, but are unable to capitalize on this opening due to the push of the Rubric Marines.

At the top of the tallest building in the city, the abomination that now possesses the mind and soul of Abbadon the Despoiler listens to the sounds of combat. His millenia of combat experience allows him to tell even from this distance how the battle fares and where the majority of the fighting is concentrated. And it is clear that his own forces are running out of time. Ahriman and the Imperials must be dealt with.

Abbadon turns his attention to the two other figures sharing this rooftop with him. The former Blood Angel turned inhuman destroyer, Peterson, stands triumphant over the crumpled, barely recognizable form of Igtenos, the Imperial assassin. He had fought valiantly, but that fight appears to be over.

“Are you finished?”

Peterson’s head jerks towards the sound of Abbadon’s voice. Hearing Abbadon’s words spoken by a different set of vocal cords is disorienting enough without factoring in the fact  that the voice Peterson is hearing is all too familiar. He glances back down at the pitiful sack of flesh and metal at his feet.

“It sure looks that way!”

Abbadon turns and looks upward. Even at this elevation, the Chaos Spire in the distance still towers over their heads.

“Good. We must make haste. We are out of time. The traitor Ahriman has finally shown his hand.”

Peterson had felt the surge of souls a few minutes prior, just as Abbadon had.

“And just what is his plan, anyway? Why is he gathering so many souls in one place, if not to invite me to dinner?”

Peterson smirks, but if Abbadon has any reaction to this, it is not apparent.

“From what I have been able to gather, he has created a rune, woven together from thousands of powerful enchantments and rituals. He is feeding the power he is collecting into it. And once he has a powerful enough soul to use as a catalyst, he will detonate it.”

Peterson joins Abbadon in gazing up at the Spire.

“And what will that do?”

“The combined force of all of these souls and the rituals and enchantments will rip through this Plane of existence, rupturing the barriers between reality and the Warp. The Warp will rush in and reclaim this space. Those with the proper abilities who are prepared for this may be able to escape to another Plane, but the majority of all life will be extinguished instantly as the very fabric of reality is torn asunder.”

Peterson’s good eye widens.

“That’s unfortunate. What a waste.”

Abbadon’s gaze shifts to Peterson.

“A waste?”

“Yes. The instant death of every living creature in this Plane of existence? All those souls, winked out at once. Do you realize how long I could sustain myself on that many souls? Why I’d never go hungry again.”

Abbadon chooses not to respond to this.

“Let’s go.”

The Despoiler begins walking towards the edge of the roof. Peterson moves to follow him but suddenly feels a hand grab his foot and stop him. He looks back to see Igtenos, struggling to raise himself off of the ground. He has grabbed part of Peterson’s metal leg and is trying to haul himself back to his feet. From behind them, Abbadon scoffs.

“I thought you finished this, Peterson. Clean up your mess.”

Peterson scowls. He grabs Igtenos’s arm and lifts him off of the ground, letting the battered assassin dangle in front of him as he himself floats into the air. Blue liquid drips from multiple deep lacerations on the assassin’s body. The remains of his armor and clothes are soaked in it, and broken bones jut out at odd angles in various places. Igtenos’s other arm is missing, leaving a jagged stump where it once was.

“A minor miscalculation, friend! One that can easily be corrected.”

Peterson stares into Igtenos’s eyes as he winds up with his free arm. For a moment, he swears he can see a red light blinking somewhere behind the assassin's right eye, but he disregards this.

“I’d say “see you in hell,” but we all know that bioweapons don’t have souls. So enjoy the scrap heap.”

Igtenos attempts to speak, but he is cut off by Peterson’s fist slamming into and through his face. Bones, cartilage and flesh tear like paper. Peterson’s hand emerges from the back of the assassin’s skull, spraying blue blood and chunks of brain matter outwards in a fan.

“Peterson wins.”

There is a sickening wet sound as Peterson pushes the corpse off of his arm and lets it fall lifelessly to the rooftop.

“Fatality.”

Abbadon does not understand why Peterson chose to say that, but something hard-coded into his new brain tells him that the correct response is to sigh heavily. He does so.

“If you are quite finished…”

Peterson shakes gore off of his talons before turning to face Abbadon again.

“Oh yes. Quite finished. Shall we?”

Abbadon borrows some additional energy from the daemon blade Drach’nyen, and the two abominations take to the skies. They move swiftly towards the Spire in the distance.


Ahriman steps forward as the Seraphim Jharm shrugs off the shockwave of his attack and presses forward. Grabbing the Black Staff in both hands, he brings it up length-ways to parry the overhead blow of Jharm’s hammer. The two indestructible weapons impact each other with a flash of dispersed energy and magic.Ahriman leans into the defense, keeping the hammer at bay.

“You imbecile. You utter buffoon.There is no order to be found here”

In a flash, Ahriman is gone, but he immediately reappears behind Jharm.

“This Plane of existence is diseased. It is incurable. The only way to save it is to cut out the dead flesh and burn out the infection, so that the healing process can take over.”

Ahriman utters an incantation and hurls what appears to be a handful of crystal shards at Jharm’s back. These turn into a large cloud of spinning glowing blades that will carve through anything they hit.

Ahriman planned on continuing to speak, but is distracted by a hail of gunfire impacting the Book of Magnus. Anti-matter barriers spring up around the floating book, preventing it from harm. Ahriman laughs.

“Foolish ork! You-”

Ahriman turns to face the Ork and takes a rock directly in the face. It breaks open, revealing a bomb squid inside. Ahriman is familiar with these creatures and reacts quickly, almost screaming the words of power that cause a barrier to spring up between him and the squig just as it detonates. The force of the explosion sends him carrening backwards, smashing other boulders thrown by Gulgrim. The squigs inside begin to detonate and Ahriman is thrown in a few different directions as he redirects his barrier to compensate. Finally, he regains his footing, banishes the barrier, and swings the Black Staff in a two-handed arc. The force created by the swing sends the remaining boulders flying. Most of them are redirected back to the Ork, but a few of them are sent in Soul Reaver and Sepher’s direction, and a number of them are also directed at Danyael and Kitharsis.

“You’ll need to be more cunning than that if you wish to get the best of me, vile creature!”

Ahriman sidesteps quickly as Cameron re-enters the fray. Missing wide with his initial attack, Cameron lashes out with his Nemesis swords, leaving behind blue streaks as the powerful psychic weapons warp the space they pass through. But they are still not strong enough to break the Black Staff of Ahriman, and he parries them all before shoving Cameron backwards. Cameron stumbles and tries to recover but a bolt of lightning from the tip of Ahriman’s staff knocks him flat on his back.

“Come now. You are all very clearly wasting my time. Let’s get on with the dying, please! I have a tight time table to keep!”

Ahriman holds his staff in the air and smashes the butt end into the ground, uttering more incantations. The shards of boulder leftover from Gulgrim’s attack burst into the air. Ahriman holds a finger up and makes a circle motion over his head and the stone shards whirl into a mini cyclone over the heads of himself and the rest of the Companions. With a gesture, the rocks burst into flames, and with another, they crash down like meteors over top of the Companions, exploding on impact.

[Veldanya Venalla]

“You imbecile. You utter buffoon.There is no order to be found here.  This Plane of existence is diseased. It is incurable. The only way to save it is to cut out the dead flesh and burn out the infection, so that the healing process can take over.”

The Seraphim is about to respond when the sorcerer disappears and appears behind him and unleashes an cloud of crystal shards in Jharm direction.  Without hesitation the Seraph leader flies forward and up into the air, effectively circumnavigating the attack as the shards pepper the area he was in a moment ago, embedding into the flooring with ease.  He looks around, seeking out the target of his vengeance once more.  He watches as Ahriman blasts Cameron over.

“Come now. You are all very clearly wasting my time. Let’s get on with the dying, please! I have a tight time table to keep!”

As the chunks of boulder form above them and then explode into a veritable meteor shower, Jharm simply drops from the air like a rock, bringing his shield above him.  Crashing down to the ground his figure is briefly obscured by both the dust from his crash as well as the meteors raining from above.  As the dust begins to clear the area is bathed once more in the light brilliantly radiating around his large form.  Once more the Seraphims voice booms throughout the room, anger still clearly evident in his words.

"You speak the truth monster.  This Plane IS diseased!  Chaos is the disease....the infection....and I shall burn it away!  I shall burn YOU away!  YOU shall be the one to die this day! FOR THE LIGHT!!"

As the last words reverberate off the walls of the room the Seraphim brings his hammer crashing down to the ground, orbs of light appearing above Ahriman.  Setting his shield in front of him once more, the Seraphim charges forward as the glowing orbs above the Sorcerer race downwards in a veritable rain of holy light.

[Soul Reaver]

The blue anti-magic field around Blooddrinker fizzes and crackles as it slices through Ahriman's two magical projectiles, one after another, leaving behind nothing more than harmless, fast-fading motes of light.  In the process, the blade slices through the magical shockwave created by the spell, creating a rent just large enough for Soul Reaver to get through safely.

Soul Reaver looks up as Gulgrim targets Ahriman's book - he isn't too surprised to see the attacks nullified by antimatter fields, the bullets detonating violently .  Naturally the book would be protected from physical damage.  Nothing that valuable would be left as fragile as mere paper and bindings.

A plan was beginning to crystallize, but even in the best-case scenario, Ahriman would have to die at least twice more for it to come to fruition - once to confirm the means, and a second time to use them.  To carry out his plan, Soul Reaver would need to keep close watch on the Book of Magnus at the moment of Ahriman's death.  If Ahriman's resurrection works like he suspects it does, it would give him the key to engineering his defeat.

Further planning however has to wait, as a bunch of highly-explosive fungus-like creatures come hurtling his way.  He rolls backward to create some distance, at the same time preparing a simple spell.

He extends his left hand, glowing a faint, deep blue.  Frost forms on his gauntlet as he hurls a rapid series of Ice Bolt spells at the incoming squigs, each blast a sliver of sub-zero cold, freezing the projectiles solid on impact.  Hopefully that would prevent - or at least delay - any explosion as they smash onto the ground around him.

But he has barely attempted to fend off this attack when a rain of flaming debris falls from above.  The meteors hurtle down toward him, and the best he can do is try to dodge them while hastily erecting a Protection spell.  The magical dome flashes white with each impact as some of the meteors bounce off, spraying flames, sparks and shrapnel as they do so.  Others narrowly miss the warrior as the deftly steps and rolls.  But even with his best efforts, he will not come out completely unscathed.