NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: So far I've hinted at what was happening, but this had been happening during the entire invasion deep under Antanjyl. In a way all claims of slavery still being in Antanjyl are false now. Some outsiders can attend, if they snuck in somehow after spending years becoming ordained in the national religion of Rashidi.

IC: Antanjyl Slave Pits; Lowest Levels

Sirius looked over the lowest section of the Slave Pits, the old man had an almost unspeakably sad expression on his face as a young boy, who used to be a slave, stood at his side. Below them, in the miles of darkness and red heat from the magma flows at the deepest depths, slaves were slowly huddled in to the feasting valuts. The numerous agency personel down here were all much more morose than the high spirited ones at other parts of the country, but here, miles under the deepest mine shafts, Antanjyl was disposing of all of its slaves, in a way which had not been used in centuries.

"Sirius, whats going on?" The young boy asked with a smile as he held the old man's cane for him. He was raised in Antanjyl, and viewed the old man as a father figure, "Why are all of the people down here?"

"Oh... Well we've decided to send them all back home Bradly. Its for the best, and will save Antanjyl from any of the warmongerers in the world above."

"Oh well. Thats good then, at least they'll get to go home."

"Yes. Now lets go, I'm sure the other Slave Masters can handle the ceremony. I would never have imagined Emperor Galf would think the threat this serious. But now that our communications have been cut off we'll need to release them all much faster than before."

"Alright Sirius."

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Men, women, and children alike who could not be counted on as working for the government were being led in the hundreds of thousands at once down the narrow paths. A few had actually slipped over the edge, plunging into the magma below. They were partially drugged however, to keep them from getting too excited, and on the lowest levels, within massive iron vaults dating back to the founding of the Rashidi religion, the slaves were slowly seated by the thousands. The poor people here would never see the light of day, and thus the Red Feast would soon be initiated. Though the methods were far more technologically advanced as before, the result would be the same.

In a room seperated from the massive clusters of the dirt covered slaves, all of which seemed to have clutched onto them after the miles of walking necessary to get here, was a large black domed chamber. Next to numerous metallic switches were computers and the like, obviously brought in only months before. These were here to make the Red Feast far more successful, and the men inside, wearing black robes with demonic visages painted across them, seemed to radiate an almost supernatural amount of evil from them.

"Haha... The bastards will never guess what happened to all the slaves that were supposed to be in Antanjyl, eh Rook?" An albino said in an amused voice as he sat in a large seat overlooking the cameras, his robe showed a four armed beast painted in what appeared to be blood.

"Of course... The Lord of the Pits will be pleased with this meal assuredly. His blessing will bring Galf untold amounts of glory and profit, such as the texts have stated. So Phalax, gonna go to the Arena later this week?"

"Yeah... Now that the gladiators are all free they seem to be showing off more for the crowds. I still say Kavax is going to kill that bastard Exmus, even if he is the Champion."

Before Rook could respond a dim red light suddenly flashed, followed by numerous more. The First night of the Red Feast had begun... and effortlessly, both of them pulled on levels as the screens in front of them suddenly lit up. Within less than five minutes the thousands of slaves in the rooms were quickly ground up obsenely, via the method of untold amounts of holy blades and instruments. There would surely be more as the days went on, and by the third day they would have finished off the last of the millions.

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Antanjyl Food Depot

"Hey Braxus! We've got another shipment of meat rations from Antalia's palace! Quit slacking off and get make sure the barrels are full for shipment! The people of Antanjyl need this to stay alive!" A fat man in an apron shouted, red smears of blood covering his entire body.

The room was one of thousands of warehouses built around Antalia's mountain range, far under Antalia's palace. They all thought the red meat byproduct was simply from Antanjyl's food storage area... However the food that they were getting was actually being pumped from below upwards to them. The workers had no idea where it was coming from, but all they knew was that with the right spices, it was actually better than most of the food they usually ate around the country.

"Gah! I'm coming! Jeez man! Some punk outside just told me the fights have begun and Kavax just cut Exmus' arm straight off with a single strike! I can't believe I'm stuck here working at a time like this! And with the fuckin' television signal dead!"

"Quit spoiling it! I'll buy the tape after our job is done! Now hurry the hell up!"

OOC: I'll start tallying up the casualties at the bottom of each post. Anything that happens in The Pits will not have any bearing on the war, other than the complete lack of slaves left. If it does, it won't be major, or anywhere near as eeeeevil. Would've helped if my old slave market thread still existed *shakes fist* So you'll need to take my word on the number of slaves we had. IC:

Antanjyl Slave Pits; Control Room 32A

The Machines continued killing the slaves by thousands every half hour, as the rooms were quickly cleansed and refilled by the drugged up individuals. A few hours ago they had received word that it was simply a massive EMP attack from above-ground, and to continue with the Red Feast. All was going according to plan, as they were so low underground that they were more or less unaffected, however the isolation was already starting to get to them.

Rook looked over at his partner Phalax, "So uhh... Phalax, you don't actually believe that the Lord of The Pits still exists right? I mean nobody has even seen him since the Emperor returned..."

Phalax gave Rook a cold, almost insane look, "Of course. Its because the Lord of The Pits has not been bargained with. What the hell do you think the Red Feast was originally intended to do? I hear it was intended to call the Lord back to us. I'm sure we'll all be saved by him, just as the scriptures state."

Rook went silent, turning slowly back to the monitor, a pale expressiong coming over him. He actually thought the entire religion was simply a metaphor for something, though it was so scattered who exactly knew what? He was enrolled as a cultist of the Lord at the age of seven, and always did wonder if the other children actually believed in Gods and other crap. It was almost as insane as what the Christians they subjugated believed...

"Alright. It is time for the next batch." Phalax said mechanically as he pulled the level, Rook following suit. In a moment's notice both rooms were filled with blood, "So Rook, are you saying you don't believe that the Lord of The Pits is still down here?"

"Err... Well I mean... He probably left." Rook said nervously, trying to cover what he said with a nice sheet of lies, "Perhaps he moved on."

Phalax just snorted in disgust and went back to look at the screen as cultists went into the room and began to wipe off everything for the next batches. As he did this, he whipped a hand through his white hair in Rook's direction, blowing whatever his friend said as the words of a madman.

After all, the Lord of the Pits must have existed, it was written as plain as day in the scrolls of Rashidi...

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Antanjyl Slave Pits; The Reaches

The Reaches were the actual lowest point of the Pits, even below the magma rivers located hundreds of feet above them. It was here, behind two massive iron doors that they said the Lord of The Pits rested with his lessers, awaiting the day enough blood sacrifice was made to call him forward. It was constantly guarded, and tonight, the second day of the Red Feast, it was no diffrent.

The group of black robed men and women stood form, nearly six in number and granted the highest honor of watching over this most Holy of Places. The doors themselves were heavily dented forward, as if at some point in time something attempted to break out, and everything nearby was covered in a massive amount of scorch marks. It was no doubt from the fires from the other side...

"I wonder... Do you think the Red Feast will be enough to bring him forth?" One of the cultists finally said, breaking over an hour of complete silence since they arrived there. She was young, perhaps only twenty or so, "..."

"Possibly... Though I doubt it. I'm sure he has better things to do. There is no way Antanjyl can ever be destroyed." An older voice suddenly spoke, coming from another monk.

The others remained silent, and within minutes slowly continued their speachless vigil uninterrrupted...

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The Red Feast

Slaves Alive: 12,000,000
Slaves Dead: 900,000

Quoted from "The Way"
-------------------------------
I don't know what I was seeking.
I don't know what I had hoped to find.
When you waste away to a point where theres nothing left, thats when you find the truth.
When the Clouds of Desire are swept away by the cleansing wind of suffering, thats when you see clearest.
But can you let go of all that you cherish?
For everything will be destroyed, both joy and Despair.
And even if you do this, will it save you?
No one knows.
You will never find yourself. You can only create that which is to be yours. Why are you afraid?
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The Reaches and Beyond

The entire room holding the massive door was silent, as none of the cultists had talked in hours. Though it seemed to be from discipline, there was another reason, that being fear. They feared what could be behind that door, despite their seeming devotion to it. These fears were justified, as another large plume of smoke caused scorch marks on all sides of the door, quickly followed by a tremendously dark roar in the vast reaches behind the door itself. The group of cultists quickly rushed away, turning to look back at the door they were standing in front of only moments ago, as the sound suddenly repeated, followed by an ominous silence...

"W-whats going on?!" The young woman asked as she began walking back towards the passage. The others looked up at the door as well, following suite, "I thought these caverns were abandoned..."

"Oh gods..." The old man from before muttered as the sound of a number of feet moving in unisen moved forward on the other side, followed by a tremendous dent appearing on the other side of the door. Looking back at the group of cultists staring behind him straight at the door, a dour expression came over his face, "What the hell are you all doing?! Run and get help!"

"What about y-" One of the others began to speak as a large tremor ran through the cave, causing a large chunk of rock from the ceiling above smacking down on him with a thickening thud, the only evidence that he was ever there being a mere splatter on the floor.

"Xthalcha... T'val Naravad... Xeph' Tiel..." An alien voice began to echo from within the old man's very being as he struggled to his feet, kicking something in front of him as he noticed that the lights had been knocked off. Turning around however, a deep red glow began to emanate from where the door once stood, "Xthalcha... T'val Naravad... Xeph' Tiel Donour' Vin..."

Before the aged man could even turn to run he was finally besought by what had broken forth from the door, as a shadow leapt from the ceiling and landed on him, followed by a sickening crunching sound. Even as the man was eatten alive he suddenly began to speak, in a tone that was barely above a blood-filled gurgle...

"Spa... nza..."

Antanjyl Slave Pits; Control Room 32A

"Dammit! We've lost contact with a few of the control rooms on the D levels... Damn faulty wiring..." Phalax said with a snarl as he looked at the next screen of slaves being pushed into the rooms for their quick demise, "Alright this room is full."

Rook was still quiet from before, "It was probably that tremor from before. Its been awhile since we've gotten one like that... huh? Same here, time for the levers."

Emotionlessly the two pulled the levers on opposite sides of the room, as the screen was once more filled with a red glare as the slaves were processed into a more useful form. They needed to hide the fact they had slaves, and by now almost two million were killed. This next batch would send all of the sectors over three million, that is, if the lower levels were still working with the power off. The chambers were originally designed to work manually anyways, though most of the pumping would require the work of some agents to help the flow upwards...

"What bad timing for a friggin' tremor! The Lord of The Pits must be angered by our slow progress..." Phalax said coldly as he went back to the monitor, rubbing a hand against his face as he watched the room slowly become cleaned.

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The Reaches; Thirty Minutes Earlier

The woman rushed forward quickly, her robe swaying behind her as the others seemed to slowly fall behind her. Once they lost a certain amount of feet from her speed there would sometimes follow the sound of an inhuman running followed by a brief thud. There were even a few gunshots from the cultists' handguns, but by the time she made it to the top of the path to the Reaches, roughly a twenty-five minute run, the elevator leading upwards almost looked like some sort of Eastern Nirvana, and thankfully the lights were on.

Hearing a sharp screach from behind, she quickly ran towards the door, as two soldiers ran from either side of her, usually there to make sure that none of the cultists leave before their shift is over. They were soldiers, not like the Agency Guards that were helping with the Red Feast above. As they turned to see what was going on, the air in the cavern seemed to freeze.

"What the hell are th-" One of the soldiers began to speak as a dark shadowy figure flew forward, as what appeared to be a claw ripped forward, taking off the man's torso with a sickening rip, the man's entrails quickly littering the floors.

The second soldier opened fire on the thing as it flew overhead, up the airshafe to the slave pits, and after enough bullets were shot into it, the thing quickly began to fall.

"Fucking... What the hell is going on?!" He shouted over to the elevator, but the door was already closed, as a quick sprinting sound began to close in from the path behind him, "...Shit..."

By the time the soldier turned, a large six-legged centipede like creature was almost on top of him. As the man began to fire, the creature seemed to swerve in anticipation, a scythe-like claw ripping off both of his hands and sending the gun spiralling down the path.

"Aiieeee!!!" He shouted in pain as he somehow managed to leap back, his head tilting upwards as the creature from before hovered overhead, sending a large talon downward, ripping through his throat and outward, sending another splash of gore across the silent cave.

With that, the creatures suddenly began swarming upwards, flying throw the massive airshaft, as others clung to the wall or literally ran up them in a frenzied rage. The elevator shaft was also quickly breached by the swarm, and in a matter of seconds the beings were rushing upwards.

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

The elevator was mercifully quiet as the cultist huddled against the corner of the woman, clutching herself. Sweat was pooling on her forehead as the elevator quickly ascended, and whenever she shut her eyes all she could visualise were the creatures, barely out of eyesight as they ripped apart the closest people to friends that she'd ever had. The Lord of The Pits was beneficial to Antanjyl, so obviously this was something else entirely...

"Oh Gods... Whats going on?!" She shouted as she stuck her face in her hands and sobbed, but stopped as the elevator came to an abrupt halt as it continued to screach upwards, then suddenly stopped and began to lower, "No..."

Before the woman could even manage a scream, the entire floor was ripped out from underneath her as a pair of arms reached in and pulled her out, covering her mouth as she disappeared in the Reaches below.

Michael Knizhny grabbed at the wall as he walked for the exit. For years, he had allowed himself to be indoctrinated towards the Antanjyli religion, suspending or puishing away his Allanean mindset, forgetting his heritage of a freedom-loving man, until even the image of Lady Liberty herself washed out. He had not said the words of his own religion for five years now, for fear he be discovered. But now, it became all too clear to him. It all came back.

He remembered himself, as young boy in an Allanean classroom, listening to a history teacher speak:

”Eventually, the outcome of all government oppression is slavery. The final conclusion of all slavery is genocide and execution. Remember – whenever everybody speaks of ‘just a little oppression’, ‘just a little’ communism, ‘just a little’ discrimination – their final goal, whether they admit it to themselves or maybe they do not, is murder and death.”

Today, he saw it live in front of him, in an unholy spectacle of blood and suffering. I hope one of those slaves has hepatitis or something, – he thought as he stumbled up and up the staircases leading into the city, blood splattered all over his hands and body.

I hope that their God comes up hungry and has them all for lunch. I do. Let him come.

He remembered tears running down his face, mixing with the blood of the innocents, he remembered stumbling up and up a seemingly-infinite staircase – and then out of a door into the blindingly brilliant light of day.

He stood on his knees in the snow and simply puked like he was going to vomit forth his very life and soul, leaning against the wall. Those who passed by did not notice him – they thought he was a junior butcher’s apprentice working at the Palace where the food was distributed. One of them even stopped and asked; “First day on the job, eh?”

Knizhny didn’t answer. I’m not a good spy, am I? I should be hardened to this crap? It took a few minutes before he could raise his head and open his eyes and look up, blinded by the light. Priests of the Pit often grew unaccustomed to the light. Unaccustomed to the light… this meant something.

When a prisoner first leaves his cell, he cannot bear the light of day, he is unable to discriminate colors, or recognise faces. The remedy is to accustom him to the rays of the sun.

Knizhny rose, and began to walk away from the door, suddenly brisk and self-assured. He suddenly knew he had to do something – and he thought he kew just what to do. Or perhaps it was just his insanity taking hold…

Quoted from "The Way"
-------------------------------
Because my hands are unsteady, and my mind is ill. I can't change, I don't know how.
My search for that which made me happy was in vain.
Just as well. A moment of happiness isn't meaning.
It feels shallow to me.
But I don't know any other way.
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Antanjyl Slave Pits; Control Room 32A

The door was finally securely locked. Phalax and Rook now had some unexpected guests that he decided to seek refuge within this room when the monsters suddenly started coming from the lower levels... The rooms on the monitors were now covered red with not only the blood the slaves, but also that of numerous Agency soldiers which had tried to hide in the room. Though they were able to gun down a hulking creature which managed to easily rip through the slaves they had been using a shield, a group of six-legged man-sized centipedes, with mouthes which almost resembled those of human skulls, except that when the mouthes opened, numerous protrusions from within whipped out like needles. The way they had killed the soldiers was incredibly violent, and large portions of skin had blocked a portion of the camera lense before falling away, now leaving half of the screen tinted a dull red. They had purposely left one of the Agents alone, but later returned and tore off his legs. He was currently bleeding to death, in full videw of the room.

The group consisted of Rook and Phalax, along with three Agency guards and five slaves. The air was extremely tense, and the entire group was in shock at the spectacle.... With the exception of Phalax, who maintained calm, and actually attempted to open the door once. He was shot in the leg and tied up to the monitor, and since then he hadn't caused anymore trouble...

"Haha..." Rook nervously laughed as he hugged his knees waiting for the creatures outside to finally begin assaulting the room. Rook had never believed in the Gods, but presently he had prayed to everyone he knew of, hoping that one of them would help him make it out alive, "We-We're all going to die..."

"Perhaps you will heathen." Phalax said calmly as he leaned stared at the bullet hole in his leg, tied up only due to the fact that the guards were afraid the demons could smell blood. Despite his demeaner, even he kept silent when footsteps neared the door...

"T-this isn't right... The Lord of The Pits... The Emperor himself was down in the depths for so long..." One of the Agency guards began to say silently banging his head against the wall, perhaps to keep the voices which seemed to be calling to them from driving him any more insane, "H-he even sent us all down here to initiate the Red Feast..."

Everyone grew pale at the guard's words, as if they were almost all thinking the same thing... Had the Emperor actually gone so far as to sacrifice all of the cultists down here?!...

"N-no... Thats crazy... I know what you're all thinking, but Galf isn't like that!" One of the other guards mumbled, trembling as he backed away from the group. Phalax was the only one not staring at him, as his eyes were on the monitor as a small group of the centipede like creatures had returned, perhaps to finish the poor man's life once and for all, "He raised us! He loves us and this country!"

Phalax shrugged silently as a large piece of gore hit the camera, completely blocking what happened to the man from view. He then turned towards the hysterical guard and smiled at him, "Only those who are not loyal to the Lord of The Pits will die. His true servants, such as myself, will be brought down to the Reaches and rewarded for its service. As was written in the Pit Scrolls."

As the group began to protest, the resounding crack was finally heard from the other side of the room. The secondary door, which lead to a staircase downward towards the pumping station, now had an enormous red hand ripping into it, literally crushing the metal effortlessly within it's grasp. As the Agency Guards whipped out their AK-109s, the door was pulled away.

The creature was vaguely human, with four immense red arms, and four green eyes concentrating on the group in front of it. It was well over nine feet tall, and the thing's bald head was brushing against the ceiling. It took less than a second for the beast to leap forward, impaling one of the guards with it's hand as the other began to open fire, a large swathe of red forming across it's chest as the bullets were quickly placed into it.

The beast reacted with a simple smack of the hand, causing a sickening crack as the Agency Guard's body crashed into the console and monitors, his convulsing, blood covered body releasing a steady stream of blood towards the others. The slaves attempted to run by, but only three made it, as the other two were caught and raised in the air, slowly crushed to death in the thing's massive hands. The entire room was full of screams, and as the slaves retreated out into the hall beyond, more screams were quickly heard.

Rook screamed in terror as the thing took a step towards him, opening the door leading outward as a series of clawed appendages flew inside, some piercing his chest and exiting the other side, sending a spray of blood into the room, hitting the now laughing Phalax. The creature pulled the bodies from it's hands and slowly moved towards Phalax, lifting him upwards by the rope which tied him with a single finger.

"Haha... Hahahaha..." He said with a wheeze as he was slowly pulled away, as the voices began to fill his head.

Outside, the slaves from before were now in numerous pieces on the floor, the pieces being devoured by what looked like massive scaled dogs. Overhead more screams could be heard, and as they walked, a body fell mere feet in front of them into the magma. Looking upwards, he noticed that he was not alone, and numerous other robed cultists were being carried forward, some of which were actually already dead or in pieces. It was then that Phalax, obviously now driven insane by the voices, began to recite them as they echoed from the depths.

"Xthalcha... T'val Naravad... Xeph' Tiel Donour' Vin..." He said quietly, and continued, "Gharon... Nevilista... Dev'roul..." He rambled as he was lifted overhead of a large group of small dog like creatures, which seemed to want him for themselves.

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The Reaches

As they reached the shaft leading to the lowest portion of the reaches, the air around Phalax and the creature quieted as they began to walk down into the Abyss. As they reached the bottom, a few hundred feet below where the Red Feast had culminated, a large group of corpses were being flayed by sinous looking humanoids with a deep blue shine to the skin which was stretched painfully over their thin bodies. The only feature that they even had other than the numerous blades dangling from their finger tips were two black, featureless eyes, which seemed to follow Phalax as he was carried across the room quietly, a triumphant smile on his face. He was only minutes away from the Reaches, where the Lord of The Pits awaited him with the rewards for the loyal...


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Antalia Command Center

"Hmm... Something feels off." Galf muttered offhandedly as he waited sat back eating his personal serving of meat rations. It wasn't really that bad after the spices were added to it, but he would still be glad when the blockade ended and they wouldn't have to resort to the Red Feast, "The Lord of The Pits. The Patron God of Antanjyl... Just like the book says. Stupid rituals."

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The Red Feast

Slaves Alive: 2,800,000
Slaves Dead: 9,300,000

OOC: Tag.

OOC: Cros possted in “Red Feast” and “Antanjyl Blockade”

IC:

Somewhere in Antalia

Michael Knizhny stumbled into his appartment, half-drunk with fatigue and disgust. He locked the door, and sat down on his bed. He reached into the blankets, and took out a simple item – one that he never knew how nobody in Antanjyl ever found and confiscated in all those years. It was a silvery-colored PocketPC in a steel casing. He opened the casing, andsmiled sadly as he connected a small ball-shaped antenna to the device, then linked a short cable to it.

He linked the cable to a small item that was so far hidden in his clothing. A small camera, it’s lens hidden in the button. The electronics of the camera were hidden in the cloth itself, providing him with fifty megabytes of storage. Miniscule, but quite enough. He pressed a few button, then waited. The screen said:

You are logging on to the Allanean Central Intelligence Agency Network, please type your password.

This meant the jamming was lifted – if it ever covered this frequency.

He tried. His fingers were shaking. He tried again. On the fourth time, he got it done.

He pressed a button, then another, then began to talk – the PocketPC had an implanted microphone. It was basically an advanced sattelite phone.

Listen. This is Agent Bookreader, Antanjyl. I have information on the state of the slaves. They are being murdered – sacrificed to the their gods - converted into food packages, and distributed to the citizenry to eat. I have been inside their unholy priestdom for years… I was forced to participate in the murders lest I be discovered. This is my atoning.

I’m uploading images I took, in secret, of the process… of the slaves being led to the slaughter, women, children, everybody… of the workers, covered in blood, packing their food into ration cans. You can use them as proof… but for God’s sake, hit the Antalian palace with something… there may be some slaves yet left alive… they killed almost all of them.. at least nine million dead… please hurry...

His voice broke off. He punched in a few commands, and began to upload the images. Then, when he was done, he spoke again.

I will not likely make it out alive. Please, for the Love of God… for the love of Liberty…avenge those people. Come here… and kill Emperor Galf. Kill his priesthood. Find anybody who has been transporting the slaves, packing the… oh my God, packing the rations, doing all those things, and… and kill them. Have no mercy. Kill them all. Please Hurry!

His voice was broken, in tears. But he talked, and talked, mentioning all details he could, giving guidance, names, addresses, rambling, complaining, crying sometimes. It went on for long, long hours, and the antenna just pumped out minute after minute of tightbeam encoded projection to the sattelites in the sky.
Knizhny was still talking when they started breaking the door down.

**nevermind** :)

((OOC: If Michael Knizhny doesn't take his own life he can look forward to a very detailed torture. Not all of the Agency is insane, but most are, since the communication is just starting up right now hes relatively lucky with who found him.

Oh and how would he know 9 million were killed? It happened while he was rambling above ground.

On a last note, the Lord of The Pits is technically advanced FT or Warped PMT(Essentially only genetics and bio-tech)))

Michael Knizhny's Apartment

The door was slammed forward in under a minute as seven Agency guards in white uniforms quickly swarmed over him, beating him to the ground violently. The transmitter was then tossed out the window extremely hard, smashing it, but distant enough away that any explosives in it would not be of any harm. An albino Agency member diffrentiated himself by walking forward and whipping out a box cutter. The others looked at him questionably.

"This is a state of war, but since our Emperor seems to have disappeared at present, so I'll give you the chance to end your own life instead of risking an interrogation." He brushed his white hair from his eyes and stared forward, his lips forming a mocking snarl, "I Corinth, am giving you the option of a coward's death... If not, you can look forward to a long and painful future, so hurry the hell up, since my underlings won't stand by for long. After all, we're not the only one who traced you."

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The Reaches

The expression on Phalax's face when he was carried through those gates was one of almost unbridled positive emotion, even as the screaming echoed from behind him. The unloyal heathens were all paying for their crimes now, but those who opened their hearts to the Pits; those who swore their very souls to the almighty God beneath Antanjyl... They would truly be rewarded, and as he squinted in front of him, the temperature significantly increasing, he noticed another pair of large black iron doors, slowly opening for the horrific creature carrying him...

"Xith... Eve'ilth... D'ne'rae..." The voice beckoned from inside, and as Phalax shut his eyes to take in the dark, almost solid voice which seemed to be invading his very mind, it all suddenly began to make sense.

Everything had finally made sense... His life, the torment he endured to get so far, and the thousands killed by his own two hands... It all made so much sense now, the deeper meaning behind his birth had finally come to pass...

Come to me my child... For you are one of the few who holds me honestly within his soul, and for that... I shall grant you your ultimate reward...

Phalax immediately shut his eyes as he was tossed forward, tears slowly pouring down his cheeks like rivers. Eventually however, after what seemed like hours of laying still on the warm ground, Phalax raised his head upwards. Numerous figures were standing in front of him hunched over in their robes black billowing robes, some covered in large slash marks which oozed small pools of red blood on the ground around them, and it was this which he had felt...

In front of them all stood Him and in a second any doubts about this being were cast away...

"Greetings Phalax... It is good that you have come to see me, like these other humans, for I wanted you all here so that I can reward you for what you have done. The lack of fear you all were able to show in front of my ravenous children was indeed amirable..."

"T-thank you Lord..." Phalax said in a voice that was barely above a whisper as his eyes focused on the black shadowed figure, which for some reason seemed to alude his vision, though it was at least humanoid, "My loyalty is only to you..."

"I know... Now come my children, let the allure of The Pits embrace you, and let all of you become one with me and my children..."

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Antanjyl Slave Pits; Upper


Emperor Galf shrugged as he looked over at the large bolted doors which were placed in the way of the Red Feast just after the attack to keep the creatures from getting out. Although it likewise kept those already inside trapped indefinately, this was currently not his concern. But what was his concern was finding out what exactly was going on, as he was not expecting anything like this to happen. Cut off from the outside world miles beneath Antalia, Galf slowly walked in front of the large group of over a hundred trained Agents, wearing black longcoats marked off with deep red insignia.


"Alright! This is rather hard for me to state clearly, but since you've all seen the tapes I think its rather obvious what needs to be done..." He said in an dark, evil tone as he looked at the now blank monitor, which was only moments ago filled with surveilliance footage from deep inside The Pits, "Some of you may have doubts about your enemy, but one thing is for sure, they must not be allowed to exit this level... So follow your orders as I am about to give you..."

"Soldiers designated A-1 to A-80 will go in first and wipe out any opposisition on this and any of the following levels down to the Red Feast Chambers. If you find any survivors you can do with them as you please... Now, as for the rest of you, I want you to plant the charges in the locations designated to close them off. I myself will be leading you. We'll need to be careful, since its essentially a maze down there, and as there aren't any from the Priesthood that are left with knowledge of the place I'm the next best thing. Ares..."

The young messenger boy from before, who would have at one point been a general under Galf, quickly saluted, "Yes Emperor Galf! I am at your service!" The boy said with a smile as his surprisingly long hair bobbed behind him.

"Stay here with the guards. If we don't return you'll be responsible for making sure these doors stay shut. I'd like to have as much of the Pits under Antalia as my own, especially considering whats actually down there. This far underground we are completely safe from our enemies, but without the lower levels any evacuation plan to move down here would just be a lesson in futility..."

"Uhh... Alright Emperor Galf! I'll do my best!"

"Eh, I guess I can't really ask more now can I? Good luck Ares."

Alexei Knizhny stood for a second, looking at the Antanjyli officer. He looked at the PocketPC, wondering perhaps if he should destroyed - then smiled at the small camera lens broadcasting his last seconds to the CIA. At least if he went down, they would see him going down. The whole world would.

He reached into his bedsheets, nodding at the Antanjylian. “Wait… I will do it myself… "

He bit down on his poison pill... all spies have one. It was not REAL poison, though - rather, a mix of adrenalin and methamphetamine. No pain. No fear. Only naked fury of death.

He reached into his clothing, extracting a small hand-grenade - another tool common to Allanean spies. Then, he rushed the Agency officer, trying to hit him with the grenade over his head. He did not hear a noise when he ripped out the pin with his thumb, not the pain when bullets went through his body.

OOC: I think it can be said the Agents would probably have shot him had his hands went under the blankets. The Agency is a military-style police force, and with all the 'terrorist' groups at present, theres no way this would have happened. Think you can edit that post, since they'd more than likely get the "knife" for him. X_x

OOC: Also, who holds a knife under his blankets? I could see if it were under his pillow, but he sleeps in the blankets. @_@

IC:

Antanjyl Pits


The soldiers quickly rushed inside, a few suffering immediate casualties as an enormous winged creature plummeted from above them and carried almost three soldiers off. The wall of bullets being fired at it left a long river of nearly black blood, mixed with that of the soldiers, who were killed in the barrage as well. The creature itself managed to esape down an enormous airshaft, though by the sound it was making, it had at least been hurt. Looking around at the shocked Agents, Galf could already tell that this mission would not end well for the majority of them.


"Alright... Whatever that thing was, it looks like we scared it off. I want all of you moving in groups of at least ten. For the love of the gods don't split up down here! I would rather we move through the tunnels slow and safe than quick and dead. Now lets move out!"

The soldiers nodded and began to split off into groups as they headed towards numerous doors, two soldiers quickly opening them as the rest of their group fired inward, causing sickening hisses and squeals as whatever had been waiting to pounce was riddled with bullets. Almost every soldier in the group had three extra clips or magazines, depending on their weapon. As the first groups disappeared into the doors, Galf turned back to the group responsible for sealing the Red Feast Halls.

"While you're up here make sure that you cover this airshaft so nothing gets out. I need to meet up with one of the groups and go down there. Good luck."

The soldiers saluted Galf, whose inhuman visage seemed to find the whole act of such amusing, emitting a small laugh as he slowly put on a large black robe. On his back was the Brunhild, and at his side was an AK-109. As he turned back, he could hear whispers actually doubting that he would return.

They were almost assuredly right...


Red Feast Halls


It would take the soldiers nearly an hour to descend to the feast hall, and already the paths over the magma rivers were covered with the butchered corpses of slaves, Agency soldiers, and even a few of the Pit Lord's own monstrocities. The scent of burnt flesh was disgusting, and as a large group of small shrieking creatures flew overhead, Erik shivered, backing further into his hiding place. He managed to swipe a gun from an Agency soldier when the monsters attack, having not eatten the drug-laced food that was slipped to him. The other slaves with him were by this time, already dead, ripped down right in front of him.

"For me, there is no escape..." He said in a tone that was barely above a whisper as he slowly slide out of the narrow hole he had hid in, landing quietly on a ledge below. He frooze as he heard a brush of wind from above as an enormous flying creature flew overhead, oozing what appeared to be a type of hot blood over him, "..."

There would be no escape... There never can be an escape for a slave... If only I'd shown some promise, or had some special skill that the empire acknowledged, I wouldn't have wound up down here... But as long as I'm here, I guess its my job as a man to get out of this hell.

Looking around quickly, he darted forward towards a dark narrow tunnel, one which he'd apparently not seen before. In fact it looked relatively new, but at least it looked safe, and pulling the automatic weapon in front of him, he winced his eyes shut and continued galliantly, sweat pooling over his horrified, ragged body...

Antanjyl Pits


The military groups slowly plunged into the warm depths, doing battle in numerous bloody skirmishes. Against the smaller beasts, their high-velocity ammunition was more than enough to split the things apart, leaving numerous scaled dog-like creatures and a few centipede abominations writhing on the floor as the soldiers pressed on. After only ten minutes one of the groups were cut off from the communication grid...

"Shit... We've lost group four!" Zeira said quietly, in a voice that was barely a whisper. So far they'd lost five men, a full half of their squad in only ten minutes. Though to be fair it was from an ambush from beneath them. Already some of the soldiers were growing more than paranoid, "Heh heh heh..."

"Shut it Zeira... You want them to hear us? Must've just killed the radio guy." Terra murmured as she held her AK-109 in front of her cautiously, scanning for any signs of life in the cave in front of them, then slowly turning it upwards, "Theres no going back anyways, so stop whining."

"Gah, a bitch to the bitter end huh?" He whispered to himself, resting a hand against the wall as he slowly pushed forward, covering the group's flank in case of an ambush.

The only thing they needed to worry about now would be conserving ammo...

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


Ancient Passage


Its funny how we all view ourselves...
We think ourselves immortal...
Irrelevant from the rest of the world...
How wrong can one be?


Galf stood over the corpse of a large centipede like creature, almost twelve shots fired into its face, and only a few puncturing it. By the time they had the creature was only a meter away, and had just opened it's carapace to strike. Galf looked at the AK-109 for a moment, rubbing his claws against it, a cold expression on his face.

"To think... I'd never even fired one before..." He said smugly as he continued down the darkened tunnel, completely alone. His red eyes took in the pitchblack enviornment perfectly, and for a moment he finally felt at home, "Then again there are alot of things I'd never done."

Galf had opted to take a passageway which hadn't been in use since the Pit's creation. It was hidden well, and he could be sure he would not be followed, as he'd blocked off the exit behind him. He then looked back at the centipede's corpse, his gray lips curling in disgust.

"Spanzas..."

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


Red Feast Halls/Ancient Passage


Erik sighed in relief as he finally came upon a sign of hope... A stairwell, leading upwards, hopefully to Antanjyl on the streets above. He didn't really mind being a slave, as it was at least better than dying... However whether or not he could live in the world above was rather hard to say, seeing as his only skill was mining... He spit in disgust, as he began to walk up the stairs, which, after a few minutes of walking in almost complete darkness led to a hallway.

"Almost out of bullets... Can barely see..." He whispered to himself, wincing his eyes shut, "Oh god... I fought so hard too..."

It was then that he heard footsteps in the distance, which sounded as if they were human. Being in this hell so long however, he was more than a bit skeptical, and knew that the demons came in an almost impossible variety of forms...

"Stop right there or I'll shoot! Are you a human?!" Despite the weapon in his hands and the distance of the footsteps, the fear was readily apparent in the young man's voice.


The Red Feast


Slaves Alive: 1,500,000
Slaves Dead: 10,600,000

Red Feast Halls/Ancient Passage

Why is life so hard and cruel?
Why must we all be judged so harshly?
Perhaps it is fate...

Galf stared in front of him, his AK-109 trained on the slave at the end of the tunnel. It would be easy to kill him in the unforgiving darkness, and the man's life would be blotched out forever... Yet still, he hesitated. An ally might be of some assistance. So even though the slave had his weapon trained on him, the Emperor decided to speak, although his voice would easily give him away...

"Greetings." He said darkly, him gun lowered as he watched the slave motion with his gun in the darkness, "I wasn't expecting to meet anyone here... I guess the spanza I ran into earlier opened up the side caves to the Red Feast..."

The slave's eyes dialated, as if he took in what was going on with the other slaves, and in an instant opened fire at the sound of the Emperor's voice. However, due to gunfighting which got him there he only managed to get three bullets off. Of those, only two hit the Emperor. One had penetrated his right shoulder, while the other had penetrated through lodged itself into his chest.

"Shit... My ammo..." Erik muttered quietly as he walked over to where the gunshots were. Just as he was about to reach where the body should have been, a fiece, pointed kick slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling backwards into the cave wall, "Aughhh! I thought I hit you..."

Galf's face smirked as he walked forward, placing the gun on a clip to his side as he wrapped a clawed hand around the boy's neck and slowly lifted him to his feet, "You did... I'm surprised you lived this long with such crappy aim. If you still want to run along to the surface then go ahead... I won't stop you."

Galf lifted the slave higher into the air before flinging him towards the way out, turning down the opposite side of the hall as he began to walk, waiting for the man's obvious response...

"W-where are you going?" He asked in bewilderment as he struggled to breathe, getting up clumsily.

"Obviously I plan on putting a stop to this... You can come if you want, as there is no place out there for a man like you." Galf said in a voice which was almost full of the emotion known as pity, "I could sense it about you by the expression so clear on your face. You don't belong here in this world anymore than I do... But still we fight, correct?"

"Haha... What the hell is this? You're the friggin' Emperor of Antanjyl and I'm just some slave you were going to have sacrificed to some crazy gods..." He spat out as he walked in the direction of Galf, "You have no right to compare us..."

"Ah, but we are both thinking beings, and both of us have no real skills to make us matter much in this world... Eventually everyone is forgotten, as even that which is immortal must one day bow to the void." Galf slowly drew the Brunhild from his back as he continued downward, sensing the slave following behind him as he walked, "You too have felt the meaninglessness... Correct? Even in excess it is there... The middle ground as well."

"B-but why?! Why do you use us as slaves?!"

"Do you honestly think anywhere in the world is diffrent? We are all slaves to some society... Unable to truly be free in the world. Even the powerful can not escape. The only ones free are those who give up all together and become the poor homeless, whom everyone equally despises. You are a slave because we have captured you, and have made good use of you up to this point."

"-And those monsters? You're going to stop them?!"

"Monsters?" Galf said questioningly as he looked off into the distance, as his muscles finally managed to push the bullet out of his flesh with a slight sizzle as his dark red blood splattered against the ground, "...Well seeing as you're following me, I take it you want to go? These are minions of the Lord of The Pits..."

"...I think you said it best Emperor." He said in a patronizing tone as he sped up his steps, slightly moved by this creatures charisma, "Will I find meaning if I follow you into this abyss?"

Galf couldn't help laughing, "There is no meaning to this existance... Though I assure you, that you will find something interesting... Something that nobody else in Antanjyl will ever get the chance to see again." Galf pulled off the AK-109 and placed it on the ground, sliding it to the slave.

"Heh... Are you saying you trust me? Aren't you afraid I'll turn on you?"

"Why? Because I've enslaved your friends and family and put them to the chopping block? Or were those some of the eighteen million I sent off with the rest of my navy prior to this war?" Galf snickered a bit, a slight bit of amusement coming over him.

"None of these slaves are my family... The only thing we ever had in common was being slaves." Erik slowly leaned downward and picked up the weapon, checking to make sure it was loaded, "So whats the Lord of The Pits like? Some sort of montrous blob?"

"You'll be surprised... Now lets go Erik." He said knowingly as he swung the immense sword in front of him, then turned and quickly swung again, this time into the wall, immediately causing it to collapse inward, revealing yet another passageway, "This should lead right outside of the Reaches."

The End of the Reaches


Sweet child, you have come to me for vengeance.
Vengeance for your parents, my most loyal of followers.
They used you, and manipulated your gifts for their own ends.
You killed them to protect yourself, nothing more...

"People aren't perfect!"
"People are selfish."
"They can change..."
"You know they can't."
"Some try!"
"All fail."


Erik looked over at the massive four armed creature's corpse. Even through the hail of bullets from the AK-109, a single stroke from Galf's immense sword ripped through it's flesh like paper. He was almost out of ammo, having battled his way there, and sustained more than a few scratches. The scars in his body from the fights were so deep... Yet somehow, seeing Galf walking in front of him, so effortlessly vanquishing the beasts... He just needed to see the end of it... There really was no going back...

In front of them was an immense dark sphere, floating over the magma, with a large staircase leading into it, right over the magma below. Something was keeping it from rising, it was probably something within the metal ship. Looking at his shirt, he noted that the bleeding was getting rather bad...

"G-Galf..." Erik said with a smile as he walked over to the robed figure, numerous tears against it. As he approached, he noted that Galf himself had received numerous injuries himself, however even now they seemed to be slowly healing, "So is the Pit Lord in there?"

Galf remained blank, staring at the blank expression on the immense corpse's face. There was something almost pathetic at the way the Emperor stared at the creature, something which was a mix of pity and sadness, hidden behind a veil of disgust. Almost mechanically, he pulled the blade out of the thing's chest with a burst of blood.

"So is the Lord of the Pits in that black round thing?" The slave asked, since from this angle there was almost no real way to know what it was. Galf slowly began to lose the daze that came over him just as Erik broke off with a second question, "Just whats up with that sword anyways? Is it magic?"

Upon hearing this, the seemingly merciless Emperor let out a series of almost laughs, which seemed almost a dark parody of what one would expect a normal person to sound like. He then turned, a toothy smile on his face as he slung the sword on his back.

"No, this is one of the two legendary blades that the Lord of The Pits created for his most devout of followers. The other is back in the palace... I originally thought it was magic, but thanks to recent technology, I've actually found out that its something else entirely..."

"What? So the Lord of The Pits made some sort of robot sword?"

"What? Gah... I forgot for a second who I'm talking to. No, these swords were made so long ago that the people at the time thought they were magic. In actuality they emit a certain high frequency which keeps those monsters away. There are also small ridges in the metal which vibrate, along with a few other features which are no longer functioning..."

"So do you think that'll kill this God of the Pits?"

Galf remained silent, slowly walking forward as he withdrew the blade once more. Erik immediately followed, a small trail of blood following behind the two of them. Somewhere far above them, a large winged creature flew overhead, hovering up one of the numerous shafts under Antanjyl.

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

Red Feast Hall Exits

"Sir... We've lost just about everybody! I think they know what we're planning to do! We need to bomb the exit now!" Zeira shouted at the third person who took charge of the group, just after Terra was carried off by the flying monster from earlier, "We can't wait for the others! They'll hear the blast and follow suit! For the love of god do it! Theres only three of us left!"

"..." The white haired man clenched his teeth as he looked at the placed explosives. They'd run across one of the groups which had already been completely wiped out, along with numerous of the soldiers who were carrying the bombs, "Y-you're right... I want you to run Zeria. Take him and go. I'll handle this."

Zeira stared at the man in disbelief for only a second before grabbing the other man and pulling him off, tripping as the guy refused to go. He then looked at the man and, from the expression on his face, knew that there was no way in hell that he could get him to budge... So, with a simple shrug he ran off, carrying the AK-109 as he nearly tripped over one of the numerous bodies.

"Heh... You should have went with him... But..." The man paused as he looked at the explosive trigger, then at the man, "At least I won't have to die alone..."

"..." The man stared blankly into space, shaking before opening his mouth to speak, "After this... I-I don't think I could ever live a normal life... k-knowing that places like this were real... Just end it..."

The white haired man let off a pitying sigh as he looked down the hall to make sure Zeira had escaped what he perceived to be the blast radius. He then looked at the shivering man who seemed to still be staring blankly off into space, before pressing the button...

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

Antanjyl Pits

Explosions rocked the entire underground complex as the first of the explosions went off, followed by a second and third. The soldiers stationed with blocking the air duct had finally succeeded, and still had soldiers stationed at the exits to make sure that none of the things down there escaped. Unfortunately, none of the soldiers had come up yet either until...

"Hey! We've got a survivor!!!" One of the armed guards shouted as he looked won his tunnel at a Agency Guard who was running forward in excitement, "Gah! You've made it!!!"

The man didn't respond, but simply kept running, small droplets of blood dripping from where his arm had been. Thankfully he appeared to still be relatively alive, even though he wasn't talking. Another few soldiers ran over behind the small barricade to watch him run up the incline.

"What the hell happened down there..." One of them began whispering as he looked at the man, suddenly recognising him, "Z-Zeira! Somebody get a medic!"

"Hey we've got some survivors over here too! Looks like some of the Priesthood made it out!" A soldier shouted at the others, "Haha look at em run..."

"Hey, there are some coming up here too!"

As Zeira finally made it to the top of the incline, falling into the soldiers, a small group of priests began running up behind him, waving their hands and shouting thanks.

"Zeira... How did you manage to s-"

"N-no..." Zeira began to mumble as he clutched his chest in pain, blood seeping out of his mouth.

"Where the fuck is the medic?!" The soldier shouted out as he looked down the hall, just as a small group of white uniformed men made it through the checkpoint, "Don't worry Zeira! Hang on!"

"R-rrun..." Zeira began to say more but stopped, as his body began to convulse just as the medics arrived.

The soldier took a step back, shivering as he watched his friend convulsing in front of him. He then turned back to the priests running up the incline still, hoping that they could bring to light what actually happened down there...

"This man..." The medic whispered as he backed away, slowly getting up just as a large red hooked appendage ripped out of Zeira's chest and caught him in the abdomen, literally pulling him down, spilling his insides, "AAuhghhh!"

"What the hell?!" The soldier quickly backed away along with the other medic as the soldiers began firing at Zeira's corpse.

Suddenly from behind them came another group of gunshots, and as he turned back to look, he leapt out of the way just in time a bullet whizzed by his head. The checkpoint quickly moved forward as the group of priests from before fired back at them. There was something diffrent about them though, but before the soldier could figure it out a sharp pain slammed into his back.

"Gurrghh..." He uttered as he looked down and noticed a human hand protruding from his chest, holding out an organ as whatever it was squeezed it into putty, "..."

As the soldier fell off of the hand limp, tears of pain dripping down his face, he painfully turned his head at the enormous metal grate over the air duct as an immense crash was heard against the metal cover. All around him he could hear screaming and gunshots, and as he slowly slipped into death, the last thing he noticed was the power going out, followed by the warm embrace of death.

-The Dark Throne-

"This is it..." Galf whispered as the entered the immense black orb, his blood red eyes quickly scanning the inside of the immense metallic structure, "This is the home of the Lord Below..."

The interior of the palace had a dark gothic decor, and everything was made for a creature roughly eight feet in height. Most of the doors however, were also locked, and Galf didn't bother checking them, moving through the endless corridors as if he knew where he was headed. Strangely enough, it seemed the ship was more or less abandoned as well... After what seemed like hours, they eventually turned to a dead end, an immense statue of a featureless black being holding two swords resting in front of him on top of an elaborate podium.

"The Lord from Below... I see you've decided not to leave the door open to me..." Galf said with a smile, his eyes closed, "Did you think I wouldn't bring along the key?"

"What are you ta-" The slave began to speak but was cut off by Galf.

"Xal-Sus!" Galf quickly echoed in a dark tone as he slammed the blade into the statue, the expressionless face suddenly letting out a mechanical scream as a deep blood began to flow from where it's face should have been, "Or maybe you were expecting me?"

"Ahhh the harbringer has returned..."

The statue and entire wall behind it suddenly split open, revealing a temple of surreal proportions, with ceilings upwards of 100 feet in the air full of balconies, a stage, and row upon row of seats leading to an immense glowing podium, at the front of which stood a tall robed figure. Lighting the entire room were numerous glowing stones of the same blue color, showing off that most of the seats were transparent...

Seated in these seats, and on the balconies, were hundreds of slaves and priests, cut and bleeding but otherwise still in good health, seated next to demons of a dizzying variety. Erik almost immediately began to back through the door, only to find that the wall had already closed behind him... Galf however, seemed completely unphased.

"So you still play the part of the preacher? Or perhaps you're a horribly burned shepherd turned prophet?" Galf immediately said scornfully as he began to walk down the halls, garnering no attention from the multitudes of beings paying homage to the robed figure, "Well what is it Lord of The Pits... Rashidi... Or should I just call you father?"

"Ah so you've appeared from the world above to return to me?" The voice said in a voice which was almost too beautiful to words, and actually seemed vaguely hypnotic. However, it too was dark, even more evil than that as Galf, though the words were so sweet and pure at the same time that it confused the senses, so much so that Erik immediately dropped his AK-109 and fell to the ground, "My harbringer seems to have done a mediocre job filling your world with followers... It took so long for you to make the necessary sacrifice... To be honest, I may have been getting worried."

"All this time you've been using me for your own selfish whims, tricking me into thinking that it would get me revenge on the people of Antanjyl..." Emperor Galf said with more than a little disgust in his voice as his speed quickened and he held the sword in front of him, "What gives you the right to do what you want to me?!"

"I created you... I am a God. Not only to you, but to all of the people of Antanjyl, in one way or another..." The voice echoedas the tall being moved away from the podium, the Lord of The Pits completely concealed as he slowly walked forward, "Thats how it works. Untill our contract has expired you are to assist me in creating a society which will not fight back against me, and you have done so... In exchange my part of the deal was to cause sufficient suffering to those who killed your parents. That was also done, and I even humored you and went deeper into the pits, allowing you to prove to me that some people can live and obey me on simple faith alone... I find your appearance helped though..."

"I appologise Lord of The Pits... But I was hoping that you'd left long ago... That sacrifice was more for my people's own benefit... They needed food, and the Pits were the most convenient method of doing so..." Galf slowly muttered, growling inhumanly as he broke into a run, closing in quickly towards the slowly approaching being, "This is my country now... Surely you understand..."

"Ah Galf... Does my voice so fill you with anger that you must resort to such unpredictable violence? We made a deal..." The ground began to vibrate for a moment as the Lord of the Pits stopped abruptly, "I always knew you would turn out this way... For a child of the Pits to turn against his own father... how unthinkable..."

"I am alone!" Galf managed to quickly shout out as he leapt in the air, literally flying out of his robe as he whipped out the Brunhild and slammed it forward at the Lord.

There was an enormous flash of light, and Erik flew back a few feet from the gust of wind, which actually managed to physically burn his chest. As he opened his eyes, they immediately widened at the scene in front of him. The Lord of The Pits had deflected the weapon with his deep red sword, held in a single hand. His other hand, or claw, was wrapped firmly around Galf's shoulder, piercing it like a bag of meat as blood began to drip downward.

"You are correct. You will always be alone now." The Emperor said in a voice which was almost oozing with pity, his clawed arm squeezing as Galf let out a pained scream. He then removed his hood, revealing a tall black haired man, his features slowly shifting as his red eyes stared down the hall to Erik, "You... Knew this would end this way Galf... That is the most confusing part for me. Have I been such a bad father that my own son would wish for his own death?" With one finaly squeeze Galf's arm was popped off, the clawed appendage flying through the air before landing right in front of Erik, "Answer me!"

Galf let go of the sword, as the Lord Below quickly caught it and tossed it to the ground, impaling the floor. The entire group of priests and demons continued to sit motionless, as if they were oblivious to what was happening around them. The lord of the pits then tossed Galf with a thickening thud towards one of the seats, his back smacking onto a corner with force that would easily kill a man. He then looked at Erik, and the slave's heart frooze.

"Urgh... Damn..." Galf gurgled as he quickly regained his footing, "You've only used me... How could I ever respect you? Do you think your status automatically makes you better than me? While you sat in these pits I made an empire in the world above... Forged it with my own two hands..."

"An Empire, eh?" The being said quietly as he quickly turned and appeared in front of Galf, lifting him up by the neck, as if he were nothing but a mere kitten, "Your nation seems to be on the way out... Even if they do manage to dispel the invaders, I have seen numerous dark portents... An figure of unsurpassable evil will soon cast a shadow over your work, tainting them in it's own shadow."

"Kr... Kur..." Galf attempted to speak, but his neck was soon grasped by the other hand, causing a pained sound to escape his weakened lips.

"Yes." He whispered then shut his eyes and placed his hood back on. Then, effortlessly, he reached for the red sword and stabbed it through the Emperor's chest as insignificantly as if he were writing on a piece of paper, "The Antanjyl you knew and loved as a child, the one you originally tainted to gain my favor, will never return."

The man's words seemd to be more painful than the sword as it moved inside of him, seemingly glowing as Galf clenched his eyes shut, blood oozing out of his orifices. This followed for what appeared to be hours as Erik was unable to move, but was surely less time. As Galf was finally about to die, The Lord of The Pits quickly flicked his fingers, decapitating the once great Emperor. As the head rolled forward towards Erik, the only thing passing through his mind was what had actually transpired just in front of him...

"You are not one of my followers human." The Lord of The Pits said quietly as his features began to shift, turning black and nearly invisible as the hood slid over his face, "You have two options... Join me or die. I'm sure your little weapon has ammunition left. Go ahead, fire."

As Erik lifted the weapon forward, tears streaming down his cheek as the immense being moved through the air towards him, the last thing he could remember doing in his short life was pulling that trigger, the bullets whizzing into the immense God, causing small traces of blood as the creature opted to not even attempt to dodge. The following death was completely painless, almost euphoric as the hand pushed forward, wrapping itself around his head as a certain energy pulsed into the skull. The feeling was incredible, and as his brain began to fry, his memories slowly being destroyed along with every single thing he'd ever worked for in this lifetime, he could almost hear the hundreds of beings in the seating...

They were sobbing for him...

Alexander Kazansky grinned devilishly as his private plane took him high, high above the mountains of Antanjyl. His co-pilot stared at him with some surprise – he did not recognize him, as the co-pilot was not Allanean. That was just as Kazansky wanted it. He hated Allaneans. He thought that the they have failed the ideas he instilled in them – of freedom, of responsibility, of justice. Maybe, he thought as the modified two-seated SR-71 swept over the Allanean encampments on the shore, he was wrong. He believed otherwise.

The plane passed over the mountains with immense ease, the former President feeling drawn by the evil that was the Lord of the Pits. It was not the first such thing he has defeated. He fought Ambivalentira, the daemon. He could fight another one – especially now, as he was stronger, and more aware of what he was and what he could.

I can waste the f*cker.

He fell over Antalia. Missiles possibly brought to bear on him. They would miss; it’s hard to hit a humanoid in freefall. Missiles aren’t built for that. The parachute would open low, at 105 meters, bringing Kazansky to the ground.

It would be very possible that the black-clad man – looking more like a teenaged boy – dropping on the ground with a parachute would attract some attention, as would his Agency-like trench coat and the assault rifle he was holding. The other weapons were not as easily seen- although one could easily see a sword hilt protruding from behind his left shoulder.

As Alexander Kazansky landed, a group of two white and one black trenchcoated figures quickly rushed out of a nearby underground depot which appeared to be a subway station. It was located next to the nearby meat ration facility which was now only a pile of rubble. It was also one of the few entrances to the Reaches still in operation, as the new Emperor himself had simply closed it off after sending a group of twenty battle-ready Daemons in to defend it. Unfortunately they had stopped responding one hour after moving into the depths, and thus the doorway leading there would be bolted shut.

"Greetings comrade. I must say your arrival is a bit more flashy than I expected." The black trenchcoat wearer said with a sickening cough, his breath hitting the air and forming a thick cloud of steam, "Hand over some identification papers... This some kinda emergency?"

“There is no time.“ - answered Kazansky, his voice having an unnatural flair to it. He was speaking as if he was not out in the cold after a parachute jump, but as if he was speaking to an audience in a conference hall – calm, dignified, powerful. – ”The Empire’s future is at stake.” – he made a short, fluid step, positioning himself between the Agency people. His fingers leapt forward like springs, grabbing the Agency person by the throat.

You cannot have a fair duel when one person is a member of a nation’s secret police – and another, a Maia, a virtual Demigod. Even if that Demigod is not in full possession of his power, there is no challenge. But he didn’t intend to kill. He lifted the Agency man plain off the ground, and his voice was heard again – powerful, booming, as if enhanced by some invisible speakers… but his lips weren’t moving.

”For the writings of the Prophet say: “I bring forth the true nature of the Gods you revere, in the hopes that this knowledge will assist you in survival in this most harshest of enviornments.” And this is what must be done.”

He tossed the man aside and walked through.

OOC: If you'd like you can just post yourself brutally making your way down, cutting apart cultists, demons, and possibly doors. IC:


The Pits; Entrance A-001

The Agency Guards stared at Kazansky in disbelief for a second before the three dropped their weapons and ran off. They were true followers of Rashidi, and knew for a fact that any being that talked like that was one to obey and fear. Whatever it was doing here, they only knew that it was probably best if they don't waste their lives trying to stop it.

The interior of the station quickly became unadorned, as the concrete above almost immediately turned towards rock walls, leading to a large set of iron doors. The doors were ironically bolted, to keep something out should any of The Lord of The Pit's minions make it that far. As of yet they hadn't, but by the end of the day they would have ascended the enormous staircase to the top, as the old mine elevator leading there was also sealed, the entrance on a lower floor which was currently being guarded by a last wall of Elite Agency Members, ironically locked in from behind.

Kazansky ripped the door plain off it’s hinges as he strode into the room full of Elite Agency troops. Some of them screamed in horrror as he grabbed an Agency operative by his forehead and shoulder and snapped his neck in a single brutal motion, then threw the body away like a rag. Two men reached for their guns, and died immediately in a blaze of fire as he drew and fired faster then they could clear leather.

He then turned, aiming the huge semi-automatic pistol at an Agent, firing it six times. The 12.7mm exotic explosive rounds made an ugly mess of the man’s upper torso and skull. Then, he reloaded. The pistol was a heavily modified gold-plated Desert Eagle – ported, long-barreled, using extended magazines and a hair trigger among other thing. The agents were too terrified by now to try anything on this strange man.

Kazansky approached the door to the downward staircase, and blew it open, using an Agent as a battering ram. A living battering ram.

The former President turned around, choosing the brightest-looking agent. He said:

You. Come. Show the way.

"S-shit man! I'm not going down there!" The white haired man shouted as he backed against a wall, sweat pooling down from his forehead as he stared at the door that was just opened with the help of one of his comrades, "Do you have any idea whats going on down there?! Nobodies come back alive! We're just waiting for reinforcements to come and and blow collapse more of the tunnels..."

The Agent looked at his gun for a second, in disbelief at how quickly the man had randomly come in and killed his comrades as if they were nothing. Even if he did know how to get down there, it was pretty obvious that he'd end up dead one way or another in the Reaches anyways. He then clenched his teeth down, expecting the worst.

One of the stupider looking Elite Agents laughed a bit and walked over to the door, "I don't know much, but I've heard about the Pits from the Priesthood before. Its a maze and the only way to go is straight down... Since you don't seem to be much diffrent from the monsters we've seen on the camera before it blew, I'll take ya down."

The man them picked up his AK-109 and shrugged, half-expecting to be riddled with bullets as he turned his head, thankfully he'd taken a few handfuls of drugs from one of the medical clinics before coming down there. Now all he felt was calm, "By the way, the name's Strata... What should I call you O' discreet one?"

Kazansky smiled at the agent. ”You better hope I come back alive. Because that thing down there… it’s going to come up. Sooner or later, its going to come up, one way or the other. And when it comes up, it will feast upon your bodies and your souls. Unless I kill it. And I intend to do so.”

He nodded at the younger man. ”I am not much different. Call me Alex. Let’s go there. I’ll go first… you come behind me, tell me where to go.”

He pointed his assault rifle – a CAR-15 – into the opening and fired. A wounded demon squealed.

“Let’s roll.”

"Haha sure sure." Strata said in a cocky voice, slightly taken back at the strange sound which echoed down the cave, "The day you show me a soul is the day I'll start believing that Garbage."

Pulling his AK-109 in front of him he quickly fired into the dimly lit passageway as well, however unlike Kazansky he missed, causing it to richochet and whiz by his head. His eyes widened for a moment before he lowered his weapon, taking that gunshot as a bad omen. From that point on he slowly followed Kazansky into the passageway...

The Passageways were relatively barren at the upper sections, with the spare random robed cultist or demon, primarily quick centipede-like Spanzas and the odd flying humanoid creature clinging to the ceilings in an attempt to get a clear strike in.

The former president of Allanea remained unfazed by the creatures around him. He simple walked through, sometimes swinging his CAR-15 to shoot down a particularly cocky sample of the demons – but generally unfazed by the carnag around him. He had seen worse.

Sometimes, he would pause to listen to Strata's explanations about this turn or that door, then, kick it in and continue the downward path. Eventually – when he felt the presence of his enemy approaching clear, he reloaded his rifle – it was strange, how many magazines he carried without so much as discomfort – and screamed:

Hey, you! Lord of the Pits, it seems your name is! I am coming for ya! Come out and play! Come here, you scummy, man-eating, commie scum! Alex is waitin!'

Then, Alexander Kazansky aimed the rifle into the passageway and grinned maniacally.

'Let's rock, baby!'

By this point Strata was more or less covered in scars and gore, having had his weapon torn in half an hour ago. Still despite this, and the amount of heated gore now covering a large portion of his body, the pills kept him from freaking out and retreating. As he listened to Kazansky talk, he more or less snickered a bit in the background, despite the fact his body was visibly trembling from the ordeal.

"Heh heh... Are you sure hes even down here?" Strata whispered as he walked over to what remained of a partially eaten Agency Corpse, picking up an elongated combat knife at his side, "Oh by the way we're-"

"You're almost to the Reaches...
The Holy Sanctum of the Lord Below...
A God come to cleanse the wicked from an impure world...
Whose only opposition... Ah I see... In that case how can I refuse?"

The voice seemed to emanate from the direction that Strata was about to point to and Alex was pointing towards. There was an intersection, though ironically enough they both knew the way to the Reaches. Though it was almost too obvious, as there was an enormous amount of blood pouring down that entrance.

"Come to me... To The Dark Throne...
To the end of the way... Where none can leave...
No more of my children will die by your tainted hands...
So take heart in the fact that your suffering will soon end..."

Strata looked around to make sure that the voice wasn't going to say anymore before pointing a trembling finger in the direction of the Reaches. Down the passageway there was almost an immediate sound of something massive quickly retreating inwards.

"Now like I was about to say... That passageway leads to The Reaches I guess." Strata turned his scarred body towards the opposite direction, "I'd keep going, but the Rashidi Scrolls say you can't miss the Holy Sanctum is you just follow the path... Besides... I feel sorta tired. I think my buzz is wearing off."

Down the passageway all of the demons from before were absent, as if they disappeared out of thin air. The only thing remaining were a series of skinned bodies and demonic corpses, seemingly stabbed or cut in numerous pieces, though a few were riddled with bullets. Beyond that and a pair of open iron doors, and across a lengthy passageway was The Dark Throne, an immense black sphere floating over the magma, a single staircase leading inside. Within the depths of that massive sphere The Lord of The Pits waited in his cathedral for his guests.


The Dark Throne; Cathedral

The Cathedral was much more full than before, with priests and demons and even a few slaves sitting in prayer as The Lord Below gave his sermon. All of the orantely decorated doors in the entire Palace were previously locked with the exception of the front one which was left open, and the one to the Cathedral. Even with the hundreds of creatures in prayer, the Cathedral could no doubt hold more, and the four halls intersecting across the immense room showed this. In the center of the intersection, on the raised podium, The Lord Below continued...

"Today's Sermon is by a man named Adamon..." The Lord said quietly as the hooded figure looked over the masses seemingly devouted to him, he sighed approvingly before continuing, "He was a simple man... And knew true happiness when he looked out at the wonderous fog outside his bedroom window... However the more he looked out these windows... The less happiness he felt for the beautiful sighs... And as time went by and he continued looking at that happiness... He realised something...

That which he loved ultimately brought him sadness. Do you all understand what this means?" The Lord said compassionately as he looked over at the masses who mostly nodded sympathetically. The Lord of The Pits quietly nodded alongside them, "So be wary, for that which we love is the thing most painful. Now I'd like to tell you a little more about one of my favorite places... The Black Shoals. I doubt any of you have heard of it, but a very important event took place there... An event which was very dear to me..."

Alexander Kazansky turned towards Strata, smiling softly to him. “I don't think you need to stay here.” He touched the soldier's forehead – and suddenly, Strata would begin to feel slightly better. “Make your way up, fast, because it's going to get real hot here, real fast.” He nodded as Strate began to retreat slowly – then faster and faster – up and out of the tunnels. Then, he turned towards the blood-streaked tunnel, and advanced slightly, heaving his rifle and aiming it down the entrance.

Then, Alexander spoke, his voice superhumanly loud, shaking the tunnel system around him, making small bits of dust fall of the ceiling.

I am coming for you, slimy PitMonster!

In the Dark Cathedral, the Pit Lord's audience would hear this, and shudder at the terrible blasphemy uttered at their deity.

None can leave? That's what you want your victims to believe, don't you?

A long burst of gunfire lit up the darkness, as Kazansky announced his approach by a long burst of tracer fire, blinding unsuspecting puny creatures that still huddled in the tunnel for a few seconds as he walked through.

He reloaded, again, then slinged his rifle again – it would be of little use now, as as Kazansky's real strength began to materialize. From some unknown fissures in the rock, rattlesnakes began to materialize, hissing, crawling, worming around his feet like an honor guard, biting at the few unsuspecting daemons still around.

How typical, PitSlime! You want them to think you're all powerful, so they can't resist, don't you?

Another door cracked open before the being that used to lead Allanea in a time long past. Kazansky walked through, proud and strong, the snakes hissing loudly.

Hey PitSlime? You know what the secret is? You only have power because your stupid serfs fear you! That's the only power you ever had, you puny b*tch!

Another door fell open as he kicked it, and Kazansky proceeded onwards, levelling his rifle at what seemed to be the entrance of the Dark Throne. Another burst of gunfire, more blinding light for hurting tunnel-creature eyes.

But he didn't go in. He simply felt no need to. Instead, he just stood there, reloading his weapon and shouting some more insults to the Being that awaited for him inside. Hello, Slime! You know who you are? You're just a puny thing that's so afraid of everything that it hides THAT deep underground! That who you are! Slime! Pathethic, pit slime! Look at me! I came here, I killed my way through all your minions and your servants, and I am here, and I demand you gather up whatever little cojones you have and crawl out here and fight me!

From somewhere up above, a bird came... Kazansky would be surprised to see a bird in a tunnel – generally. This was not a general situation. He smiled at the falcon and continued the taunting, unbothered by the varying creatures that assembled around him – none of them really underground ones. Porcupines, rattlesnakes, falcons and even two eagles skreeked, hissed, and batted their wings all round him.

Kazansky stood still.

Oh, and one more thing, Slime. These ain't your children.

OOC: The Dark Throne isn't supernatural by the way. Its basically a ship if you haven't guessed.

IC:

The Dark Throne; Cathedral

As Kazansky's voice penetrated the depths of the Dark Throne, reaching the Cathedral itself, The Lord of The Pits slowly finished his sermon, as an unearthly voice came over the being, catching the attention of his servants.

"Finally... At that time the Black Shoals were no more. The people there hid from the truth, and in the retched radiation of the light, became creatures not of the comforting darkness... But of the light, the very thing which exposed their flaws... Upon seeing their faults they were no more..."

"Gods... He really is a loud pest..." The Lord said quietly, "Like them, humans do not see their own faults, they are selfish... Though some try to change, a childe of mine once told me that they could change... He came to me today with that belief, but was mistaken. Let us all learn from his mistake... For now I must greet our humble guest, who has decided to disturb this most holy of sermons."

The Lord of The Pits then quietly walked forward, momentarily stopping to take a look at the corpse of Galf, still laying motionless on the ground. To think such a creature was unable to bring Antanjyl under his whims was almost heart-breakingly distressing. But still... With these new followers he would soon find a new location to dispense the true meaning of existance...

"But now to deal with this annoying creature who thinks he is so righteous..." As the Lord Below walked, he quietly wondered what exactly most of those words the man had called him were, especially that of 'Communist', but supposed it was as unimportant as the intrusion at hand, "But seeing as he hasn't come in... Theres no point in going out to see him now is there? Its almost assuredly a trap..."

Upon exiting the Cathdral's chambers, the being reluctantly turned down a passageway leading to a dead end. Upon reaching the wall, he quickly pulled out one of the three swords he had, and jabbed it into the wall, as it slowly opened up.

Within the room were large containers full of liquid, and within them were some of the human cultists from before, some of which had already begun to change. Further down were diffrent creatures, but as the Lord passed by these, he paid no heed, stopping only at the end of the hallway to a small room which opened as he approached onto what appeared to be an immense control panel.


Dark Throne; Exterior

A humanoid robed figure slowly appeared in the air above the ship, as it slowly floated downward in front of Alex. The being was almost assuredly not there, being projected by the ship itself, and stood roughly twelve feet in height as the staircase leading towards The Dark Throne's interior began to retract.

"Greetings. What exactly are you attempting to do? Deafen me and my followers with your whining? If so you might have to try harder, because its not exactly working.

Oh and before you state, what exactly is your definition of a god? It seems rather vague to me, and being that I have such power, is it not safe to assume that I am currently a god? Regardless of your thoughts and blasphemous tongue, I myself doubt the validity of there being any real gods in this world, by the definition you probably go by..."

The voice slowly changed as the stairwell lifted further towards the ship, at the half-way point.

"But I suppose it is the fault of mankind to believe such things... I assume you were at one time a human as well. I can see the foolishness in your eyes. The lack of sense..."

Kazansky threw his head back and laughed at the figure. “This is all you can do? You're fleeing... you think you can flee from me? From what I represent? Not in a thousand years. Not if you go out of the Galaxy itself, you would still find those who stand for this.”

He moved his feet slightly – his legs did not seem to move at all – and then he jumped, landing on the retracting staircase. “I hate to intrude on your privacy, Slime. But I guess if the sh*t doesn't come to the cleaner, the cleaner must come to the sh*t. And if you didn't get it by now, PitSlime dear, you are the sh*t in this story.” Kazansky aimed his rifle into the opening and fired repeatedly. Then he walked in.

There were the followers, there was the Cathedral throne, there was the seat of the Pit Lord's power. An now, Kazansky was there. The eagles, the falcons swooped up, clawing at the figure. It'd better not be real, because if it was, it was in some serious trouble.

Kazansky was still laughing as he moved among the followers, not harming them, and yet somehow avoiding harm, laughing as he proceeded, despising them and their acts. You think you are powerful, you Slime? Look at me! Do something about me! I bloody triple-dog-dare you!

He then spoke to the people around him, his voice now low – and yet audible by all:

You may think that the words of this being are true, and they are not. For it says unto you, implied if not overt – freedom is a lie. And here I say unto you now: Freedom is Truth. Freedom is the only truth there is. It is slavery that is a lie. It says, that it is your destiny to serve it. And I say unto you now: It is your destiny to be free. Each, and every one of you is endowed by certain inalienable rights, and among those are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. They, are sacred. You have no duties – but to respect those Rights in others, and whatever other duties you, by your own choice, impose on yourselves – to help your loved ones, to help the poor, whatever – of your choice.

Here, this being says – no good can come in this world – and I say unto you, you are the ones who bring good into this world, as you reject this creature and leave. Here, it says – you cannot resist slavery – and I tell you, it is only by resisting it's likes that anything is accomplished in the world. Here, I say unto you: I have killed a being like it before, and I will kill this one, and then I shall go out and kill more like it. And so will each and every one of you who survives to day – and in fact, you will all kill a Pit Lord today – for the most dangerous of Pit Lords is the Pit Lord within.

This beinng here? What can it do? Eat me? A slimy thing in a pit is not truly fearsome, for it is nothing but a child's bogeyman. I can kill one of those, and I will kill this one now. The true Pit Slime – umm, sorry, Pit Lord – is the one in your heart. The one who teaches you to burn witches and beat up hippies and blow up buses and whatever else. You go kill one of these – I'll go and kill the bogeyman.

He stood there, alone, strong, again his creatures gathered around him – how the hell can there be snakes on a spacecraft? - hissing, squeaking, skreeking.

I will slay this being in front of you, for you must see that it can be killed. And you will watch, and each slay your own. For now look – you are free men. Each and every one of you is singly, irrecovably, free. That, and only that, is enough to fight for, to level worlds for, to die for. I am ready to fight, kill, and possibly even die for your freedom – but I can only free you from this creature. You, and you alone, will free yourselves from whatever it was that enabled him to rule you as it did. That, I cannot give. I can only help.

He reloaded his weapon, and grinned – the happy smile of a teenager who had just worked out a beautiful stunt.


.

The entire Cathedral seemed more or less unmoved by the Lord of The Pits, for though a few seemed vaguely affected. The rest were there too long, and were content with the inner tranquility and purpose the Lord of The Pits gave them. His words were about a universal truth, and how all humanity was evil and tainted. There was nothing pure about it, and he had shown numerous recordings and videos documenting the horrors of the outside world. This upstart, though powerful and frightening, didn't stand a chance against the more devout...

However, none of them bothered moving. The Lord Below had not dismissed them, so they were content to continue praying, trying to wash out the noise coming from this new figure. Perhaps he too was a being of such might that he could defeat the Lord? Even so... They knew too much...

"You speak wise words... I am indeed moved by your foolish convictions..."
"To think that written words alone can move someone... Without proof..."
"Yet you are a slave to those words, just as I am a slave to my experiences..."
"I feared you would attempt to destroy me. Sadly I was correct..."

The Lord Below himself suddenly rose from below the podium, removing his hood to reveal a dark haired human, with small black lines moving just beneath the surface. Leaning forward towards the podium, he slowly drew two swords, and as he finally stood upward, it became apparent that he too was apparently twelve feet tall. He then smiled, in a depressing sort of voice which seemed to move some of the more devout followers to tears. What had this man done to receive such a expression from their master?!

"Alex... If you let people do as they please, many will suffer... You of all people must have known this to be true. People are evil, and the only way to protect them from their impulses is to show them my truth..." The being slowly looked at the long hallway in front of him, at the corpse of Galf, "Even I cannot change instinct. However you are too brainwashed by others to listen to me. If that is true then come at me, boy."

The large human leapt over the podium quickly, as if his very weight brought him back to the hallway faster. He then stood there and waited, both swords out, and Galf's own blade secretly stashed away within the robe as well. If only he had the Sanscion he would have been at the peak of his destructive strength, though he would let Galf's heir keep it.

OOC: No, I am not hoping to kill him with this, but the enormous kinetic power of two of those will possible either knock him off his feet or maybe slow him down some.

IC:

Kazansky seemed motionless – but in fact, he had moved, swivelling only slighty on his feet to avoid the thrust, letting the Lord of the Pits pass by him, and the deadly two blades merely blink uselessly as the Lord of the Pits came by him like a bullet. Then, Kazansky laughed in the being's face, not fazed by his violent attack.

Here, here, Slime! Look at you! And now look! I, like you, have once founded a people. You know them. The Allaneans. They are not perfect, and in fact, I regard them as a failure of sorts – for reasons of my own. But I founded the house on solid rock, on Freedom, and on Truth. And you have founded the House of Antanjyl on Slavery, and on a Lie. And when our two people's houses met, look now – your were the stronger. You sent forth an army of forty million troops or more - against an Army of Allaneans, outnumbered by your troops four hundred to one on the ground. And what did your troops do? Why, they surrendered!

Where are your brave warriors now? The Army, the Agency? Why, they are now in Greater Prussia, learning the Truth that my people impart on them, with they allies helping foot the bill! Where is your mighty navy? Where are your sailors, many and proud in number? They are all dead, for once the Armies of the Free met them, they have blown your puny forces apart, and driven them before them! Why, is it your doctrine that is true?

Kazansky turned to the followers of the Lord, speaking to them:

Look at this Slime, here, and listen. For it is said thus:

Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.

And now look – for the Pit Slime's teaching has brought Antanjyl's men to ruin, and her women to dishonor, and her armies into disgrace, and her rulers into servitude! And yet the teachings of Liberty, which are not my teachings, but I merely bring them to you here, they have brought the Allaneans to stomp on your banners, and the Scandavians to rule on your seas, and the Dersconi to wreck the Antalia palace, and the Psy-Pso's to walk on your snows, and Liberty and Truth has brought good fruit unto us, and the teaching of this slime brought evil fruit unto you.

Kazansky dodged again, as the Lord of the Pits came for another attack.

Damn you, Pit Slime!

He reached into trench-coat, two glittering gold-plated Desert Eagle Action Express .50 handguns shining agaisnt the black of his clothes, and began to fire both as he retreated from the ancient being, walking slowly backwards.

Did they not teach you never to bring a knife to a gun fight, Slime?

The Lord quickly fell back as the bullets slammed through his flesh, a blackish red color dripping from the wounds. He then quickly flew back, seemingly in discomfort as the bullets fell to the ground, blood slowly dripping out of him. He then stood up and rose his swords, sighing at the man's arrogance.

"I taught them the truth. Everyone is owned by someone, even in your form of government. I find it most disgusting that you consider your allies free, when all of them were empires as well, with the rulers holding absolute power... You may lie to yourself, but I can see through that. Your vague attempts at controling the Antanjylian's thoughts are the most disgusting form of slavery, since you abolish who they choose to be to make them what you are. You are a child with no idea how the world truly is, brainwashed by the words of men who lived in a diffrent time."

The Lord of the pits quickly continued to dodge some more bullets as he leapt skyward, taking another shot to what appeared to be his arm as he came behind the podium. He had not as of yet felt like killing the fool, instead deigning to use logic, which had made him the being he was today. The words he lived by were as true then as they are now, but whenever they are said to this man he simply quotes some book or another...

"Your books too go against nature. These Antanjylians were my people once, long ago. They were vicious and violent and insane, like you and the people you represent. However, I cultivated them, and taught them the errors in killing those willing to work for you instead... It is not as if such a system is corrupt, as once you are dead there can be no second chances... So why would anyone ever give up something so precious as a life over mere words such as Anarchy and Chaos?"

At anytime he could simply call forth the masses to attack him, and such a thing had its own spark of joy in it. Though at present he would let this boy continue tearing apart the being. He would be yet another Galf, laying on the floor in pieces, only to be cleaned up by his servants and cast out into the magmas as if he were nothing.

"Revalzo, Aldebaran, Arctura, Betelgeuse, Fomalhaut, Venturi, and Regulus."

The names would hold no meaning to anyone in the room but The Lord Below, since to him they were his most dearest children. The Shadow Swords, once known as the illuminati, tainted when he gave them to his original children. Like all things, entropy would soon take over this world and it's people as well, and judging by the despots and anarchy forming, it would be better that he left. Though there was still one last pest to take care of...

Kazansky smiled cautiously as he saw the being rise from the ground, bleeding. He listened to it's words, not so much letting the Lord of the Pits win, but more, listening to what he had to say in order to rebuke him better. He already heard many like this being, and did not think it was capable of saying much that was new.

Freedom is not in whether you choose your government, or you do not, whether your leader is 'chosen by the people' or 'chosen by the Lord', or what-have-you. I prefer democracy myself, but that is just my preference. If a government acts to secure freedom, it is just. If it oppresses, it is unjust, even if ninety-nine out of a hundred vote for it. The Scandavian States are a Democratic Empire – and yet it's people have freedom of speech and fair trial. The Dersconi are an absolutist state, and yet, their people don't execute their slaves – they don't have slaves – and they do not feast on human flesh, like the leaders of this nation that you have created.

One freedom there is that I do not recognise. The freedom to murder. If what your people choose is to be murderers and cannibals, they shall not be murderers and cannibals. Those in this would who don't believe in murder, and in cannibalism, and in slavery, will comen and they will destroy Banduria, and Antanjyl, and those others who fight for slavery in all it forms, and like Sodom fell, and Antalia fell, so shall their cities fall again.

He paused, reloading his guns, then reholstering them.

Look now. You are bleeding. You are weak. You are suffering. And out there, the armies of Antanjyl are surrendering, begging for the Allaneans and Scandavians and Psychotics and Dersconians to please, please spare their pitiful life.

He spoke, his voice growing stronger by the second.

You were not defeated by brute force. You were defeated by a principle, that was more powerful then all guns in the world. And it has defeated you. That is a simple principle. It's the idea that all men are endowed with certain inalienable rights, and that among those rights are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness...

Suddenly, Kazansky seemed to become much taller and strongers, as if the muscles on his body grew physically with every word. He aimed the rifle, speaking a single world as he fired each shot – each word seemingy to make him stronger, as if remininscent to him of some childen – or maybe parents – of his own.

Lagash. Thermopilae. Philadelphia. Alamo. Aqualonde. Izumoati. Heston-City.



OOC: Aqualonde, NOT Alqualonde. NS event, not Tolkien event.

"Hah! I see nothing wrong with what was done to those who were used as food... If they did not die, all would die of starvation. Surely you can see that it was justified? What you say obviously means your ignorance of Antanjyl, no doubt muddled by the outside world. No slaves in Antanjyl were ever executed before this point, and might I add you drove Galf to this desperate action.

And since we speak of politics, Democracy is wrong as well, since a majority is not always correct. However, I can see that you are far too brainwashed and insane to obey me, no doubt from your life in Allanea. You too have been corrupted. However I will stand unafraid, even if you do wish to kill me."

He laughed a bit, his eyes staring at Galf's severed head from his protection from the podium. A few bullets grazed him as his features seemingly turned a misty black, the black lines moving under his skin disappearing as his humanoid figure froze, and he slowly began to shrink almost by half, to a height of seven feet. He was bleeding now from numerous scrapes, yet the desert eagle would soon be out of ammunition, and he'd previously given up with his automatic weapon...

"Alexander, can you not accept the fact that there are more truths in this world than the one you believe? Or are you so closed minded to believe that yours is the only right way? If that is so, I shall stand here and become martyred, despite the fact that at anytime these thousands of beings could have torn you asunder..."

The masses seemed to stare forward at the Lord Below, their eyes widening as the seven foot tall man moved in front of the podium, taking a large shot to his chest. He winced a bit as blood began to pour onto the floor, as he quickly plunged the three swords into the ground. His servants worshipped him, and would surely mourn him, for he was their protective father, who promised them more than anyone ever could.

"Ah... Do you see the madness you bring?" The Lord said in a human voice, a slight blackened power moving behind his eyes. The madness had overtaken this man, and he was too far gone to change, thus for the first time the Lord Below had seemingly failed, and as another bullet slammed through his shoulder, causing a piece of his robe to rip off, showcasing his red and black flesh which slowly began to pour blood, as the jagged bones within his body tore apart from the bullets, "Ah Alex... Only when one is willing to die to prove a mere point alone, without any resistance can validity in his words be maintained... You may not believe this yet... But I feel more sorry for you than anyone else in this cathedral, for they know a happiness which you never can... If you too are immortal, I can only hope that you too someday understand the horrible truth which I alone have taught these people..."

As he continued forward, a small river of blood began to roll down the side of his mouth, as a smile came over his lips. He was walked extremely slow, savoring every bullet as if it were some sort of metaphorical victory, or a punishment. It was hard to tell, but the masses in the cathedral seemed to finally come awake, as they watched in horror at what was happening.

Alexander Kazansky was by now grinning madly.

I see you do not understand – or perhaps deceive your followers even now, even at the point of death. For you say there is not only one truth... why so, oh Pit Slime? If there is not one truth... certainly then, there is no one Good, and then no Evil... and then, of course, anything you do is fine... after all, who can argue against you? Surely, the mighty prevail against the weak – if you can convince the weak that there's no special moral reasons they should resist, and then they become truly weak.

But even as Kazansky spoke, he weakened. It seemed as if the enthusiasm of the Dark Lord's followers drained him... this place drained him... he felt weaker, and he almost fumbled when he holstered the handgun and grabbed his rifle from the sling again. Still, he spoke, aiming the rifle at the dark being with faltering hands and spoke once more.

Fool! I look like a boy to you, since my body is young – and yet I am centuries old, older then Allanea, for example. I know... you don't make a cause stick by dying for it. People have died for every cause in the world – Nazism, slavery, cannibalism, what-have-you – and this didn't made Nazism, slavery, or cannibalism right – and yet, you will die for it, now.

But he doubted whether he would make the shot...

His hands were shaking.

Sweat was pouring over his eyes.

And then, he saw them.

In fact, all the worshipers did, too.

Semi-transparent, powerful, manly, figures walked through the very walls of the Throne room, approaching Kazansky. One, a man with an oversized belly and rolling triple chin helped him steady the gun. Hello, Alex. Remember me? I'm the guy who held that tea party, back then. Won't be good to stop now, will it?

On his right, a marksman in a peculiar coonskin cap kneeled on the 'stage', leveling an equally semitransparent rifle at the Lord of the Pits. Hullo there, youngun. Givin' up already? Not good, not good. Took 'em thirteen days with me, and then I didn't give up. Now, you can't whip this here Pit Slime? Don't worry, Alex, I can whip my weight in wildcats, we'll whip him together, want him?”

On his left, a man with a huge chin, too, leveled a squirrel shotgun. Hello, young man. I see you are making fine progress – but remember what I said about patriots and tyrants? C'mon, young man, let's water that famous tree, now shan't we?

Kazansky smiled sadly. How was he to tell these people that this was over... that in a few seconds, the Lord of the Pits would just come and finish him off... And another figure appeared. Holding a high-tech rifle, Rudolph Corbelli – half-elf, half-human, stood behind Kazansky, flicking the rifle's switch to full-auto. “Let's do it, Mr. AK. Remember... the Allaneans trained my men...you taught us to be brave... and this fellow is much less scary then a Taraskovyan battleship, any day...”

The Lord of the Pits approached. Soon, Kazansky shuddered, this body of his would die. He would be confined to – decades, centuries? - of suffering, non-existance, until he rebuilt his body. The previous time, the Revenian lord had helped him with this.. this time, it would be him alone.

Yet another man appeared. What is this, thought Kazansky, my personal Valhalla escort? Another Khristian... He smiled faintly.

Thank you for your help, Mr. AK... thanks for everything. The Khristian levelled his own weapon, a longarm as transparent as his entire body, at the Pit Lord.

The being was yet advancing. In fact, it was now beginning to speak again.

If you too are immortal, I can only hope that you too someday understand the horrible truth which I alone have taught these people..."

Kazansky felt now that his body was growing stronger – not by mutch, but slowly, and more confident, too. He smiled. Didn't you just imply that there is no truth?

Both the physically-present rifle and the ghostly, transparent ones fired together.

As the man remarked on his statement about the one horrific truth, he simply grinned. The man had answered his own question, though the Lord of The Pits more or less ignored the phantom visions, as they were no concern. Simply illusions of his own mind perhaps, there to give him the strength to pull a simple trigger.

"Exactly... You really have paid some attention... Though theres so much more to it..."
"Now, thanks to you... The one final truth with be mine..."
"Though Galf... What you were trying to say... It made no sense..."
"Even now..."

There seemed to be a brief pause in his voice, as if something was happening within his body. However once the bullets were fired, the Lord Below braced himself and opened his arms, allowing the massive firepower to tear through him viciously, sending red blood and a clear crystaline liquid splashing behind him. As he fell back, the being opened it's mouth and released a massive, deep echo of a death cry, more blood spilling out of his smiling mouth. As he stood there, an enormous hole in him, more than enough to literally shread him in two, yet somehow a few tattered pieces still remained, and he slowly kneeled forward with some amount of almost impossible dignity given the situation. A few seconds later his entire expression turned a smoldering featureless black, as smoke and what appeared to be flames slowly began sprouting throughout his body...

"The Phoenix... So Majestic..."
"My children... G-gather..."
"One last sermon... C-come..."

The Lord Below slowly arched it's head towards the mass of demons and humans, some of which had broken into tears, others were suffering from shock, while less than one percent of them slowly rushed out the exits almost on cue as a slight rumbling moving throughout the ship. The doors were all quickly opened to allow these priests to exit, they had either learned enough or decided to leave of their own free will. Alexander was instantly forgotten as the huddled masses began to crowd closer, some of the demons shrieking, while more or less the humans quickly broke into fanatical sobbing. Four however, two demonic creatures and two humans priests quickly brought the three swords and the book of sermons to the creature.

By this time the flames were slowly growing in intensity, and the ship had quickly begun shaking more violently, and somewhere in the ship something was cracking. As the Lord Below grabbed the swords, more blood began to pour from where his eyes would be as he held them close, resting them against him affectionately as he opened the book with a free hand. The pitiable creature then slowly rose it's head towards Kazansky, just as the flames began to catch onto his closest servants...

"You may leave now... Your work is done here..."
"Xthalcha... T'val Naravad... Xeph' Tiel Donour' Vin..."
"Gharon... Nevilista... Dev'roul..."
"Gharon... Praise be to the Lesser..."

The Cultists were echoing the words, and the demons appeared to be doing the same. As the word Gharon was echoed, a massive winged creature slowly burst from one of the balconies and landed in a pile of empty seats, it's blood-thirsty eyes staring at the Lord Below as it began to approach him, along with the cultists and demons around him who were now bathed in black flame, continuing to recity the sermon until their weak bodies gave way and they fell to the floor.

"If only Sanscion were here... The sermon would be finished..."
"Ah well... Now my children! Let the words fill your very being..."
"We will not reach paradise... But I will take you with me regardless..."
"Let us explore the vast reaches of oblivion as one..."

By this time Kazansky would surely have left if he was sane, as the cathedral ceiling began to fall in pieces, crushing the mourning demons in the farthest reaches, as the humans slowly walked forward, along with the smaller demons. The Lord Below eventually gave way as his arm broke, the flames devouring it with a sickening crunch. However, a cultist quickly brought the book to the Lord's eye level as he continued to recite...

"Brunhild... Revalzo... Aldebaran... S-Sanscion... T-take us..."
"Take us to the world of infinite peace and beauty... Where..."
"Where the sleep is... Ah... C-Ch-ildren... Have I told you of the Black Shoals?"

The crying cultists, now mostly on their knees simply nodded.

"Ah yes... I h-had always... wanted to go there... again..."
"But... Perhaps... We will?... Though it is... unlikely..."

As he said this, the words of the sermon continued, though none were speaking. The very ship itself was slowly breaking loose from the earth which had held it in place for so long, slowly lowering itself into the magma. In the end, the Lord Below was full of so many beautiful emotions, all of which felt by his followers, that the remaining ones died from the sensation even before the three swords began to drag them all home. Perhaps truth wasn't subjective, but by looking at the universe at large, he was vaguely sure that freedom was surely not a universal truth... Even with what the man said, and his followers all knew the truth, said by the Lord Below himself. The ultimate truth...

The creature, now vaguely skeletal in figure, it's lower jaw now gone, slowly crawled forward and grasped ahold of one of his surviving praying followers, holding her protectively against itself. It was almost exactly as if he were holding a child, "My dream... never... I lo-... envy you... understand?" He seemed to smile, despite the fact the area of his lower jaw was now completely gone, it could somehow be seen as the skeleton slowly caved in as magma began to seep from the base of the ship, let in by the ventilation ducts, "He... was wrong... we love eachother... right?"

Before the woman could answer, the magma had already reached the Lord Below and his remaining, burning followers with a sickening hiss, as some of the demons attempted to crawl upwards, but ultimately would die as well once the lava rose. By this time the three swords had left him, along with his most precious children...

Beautiful, spoke Kazansky. [/i]Such a moment of total reunion. How lovely.[/i] He had paused. He could not save the minions, nor did they seem like wanting to be saved. In this case, only one thing had to be done. What he came for.

He rose in the air slightly, as if without support. He seemed to be growing stronger by the second. He swooped down, grabbing Galf's body with one hand, effortlessly, then making another pass to reach at the dying being's neck and grab the Pit Lord too – if the Dark Lord were human, this grabbing would have broken his neck, but since he was already dying, the Pit Lord's security was of no importance.

And thus, Kazansky grabbed his new charges – though he was ready to drop Galf if he needed to - and made for the exit. So far, the plan was progressing beautifully.

OOC: Make sure to grab Galf's head too. But I'm sure most of the populous would see him and riot. Not to mention you would be giving substantial proof that The Lord Below was real. IC:

The Lord Below was now more or less a smoldering pile of burnt blackened bones. Every second more and more of him erupted in the dull flames, along with Kazansky's hand and anything else that touched him. The force did not kill the being, but that didn't matter, since soon there would be nothing left. He had a relatively good idea what this fool was trying to do, though whether or not he could make it to the surface before the final pieces of him were destroyed...

"Leave me... M-my fo-followers... need me..."
"You will only provoke more f-fervor... of my followers..."
"W-when they see me... it may... very well have the opposite... Effect..."
"P-perhaps... you've heard of C-Christian..ity?.."

The voice was dim now as the ship slowly began to be absorbed by the magma below, the surviving followers, mostly demons clinging to the ceilings or those which could fly, attempted to follow them without being destroyed by the scorching heat of the earth. However none were able to keep up, and with a single touch Galf's body slowly began to be enveloped in the flames as well.

"I-its a l-long way out... of the P-pitsss..."

“You are alive yet, Pit Slime... and unfortunately for you, I intend to keep you alive. Certainly, your followers will not recognise you as you are now.”

A small motion, and Galf's body below the neck simply tore away with a crack, Kazansky being left with the head alone. ”Wow. Didn't know this was so easy... is this your work, Pit thing?” Suddenly, power, pure and simple, poured through Kazansky's fingertips into the body of the Lord of the Pits. The being was not being healed – certainly, the Dark Lord would not begin feeling better – but the flames would suddenyl be put out,, and the condition began to be reversed, at least externally.

'I am far more ruthless then you may thing I am, Thing. I stand between Things like you and ruling the universe for centuries. Others like me have fought you since the beginning of time itself, and you will never prevail – but that you already know.” – Kazansky's voice grew strained, as the dark-clad being accelerated faster and faster upwards, through the different corridors of the Pits, upwards to the surface.

”To defeat your likes, Lord of the Sh*t, we had to be smarter. Stronger. Better – even at the job you favor so much, of deceit and destruction.”

The Pit Lord's body was beginning to look slightly better – despite however horribly battered, tortured, even dying- and without the being's actual health improving. The change was merely cosmetic – though powerful.

"I never wanted any of those things you speak of... You always struck me as an imbecile since the first moment you entered the dark throne..." He smiled, as if he knew something but was not saying it, "Galf too, you both were so insane... Its no wonder you were deposed by your very own people. In time Galf would have been as well... Death and Destruction? How would that ever bring me peace?"

The voice then laughed, echoing throughout the Pits themselves. Though he knew he would soon be destroyed by this horrific, violent beast, he knew that the plan would never succeed quite like he expected. He was the biggest fool of all, and despite how he tried to teach Kazansky the truth, the boy was too close-minded and foolish to even try to listen.

"You are like a parrot... You can only speak for others. I myself have known other beings such as myself, violent and insane with power... Though we are no more the same than you are the same as a rock. Though you are both dense, the differences are inherently recognisable..." The Lord slowly began to smile as his flesh began to heal, though unbecknownst to Kazansky he wasn't the only one healing him once the flames were gone, "You would not even let me die in peace with my children... And here you stand insulting me, almost automatically considering yourself better, miles below the earth's surface..."

As the Lord Below finally passed the Red Feast Hall, he sighed and continued, moving a finger as the demon's corpses slowly moved towards the magma and plunged themselves in. He was not expecting technology to advance so quickly, but humanity's evil and inherent violence must have helped spread it so far. He then smiled a bit, assured with himself.

"You know... You will only anger the people further, and cause more harm to them by showing that those who were praying to me, were praying to something so physical. Even if I were to die, it would only cause them to worship me more... They already think Galf is dead, so why should you bring that old thing? So much is wrong with your methods." He coughed a bit as a semblance of human skin began to pass over his face and flesh, "I've had enough with this world. I attempt to bring humanity truth and bliss, while you attempt to bring them what? Anarchy and weapons to kill eachother with? You're just like all the other Freedom fighters... You don't care about the people, you only care about the abstract concept of freedom..."

"Well seeing as you have a nickname for me, I suppose I should call you the Lord of Fools." He laughed weakly at that, as somehow his robe began to reform, "Ah, I regret leaving my weapons behind... At least Sanscion awaits me in the world above... Ahhh Alex Kazansky, have you ever created something so beautiful, that you felt the entire universe needed to see, understand, and experience it? I have compassion for those who wish to see the truth, and those who seek me out are the ones who most wish to see it."

The Lord Below looked around a bit, yawning as they went by the half-way point, passing Strata smoking a joint on the way up, seemingly too dazed to notice them, "Next time I'm dying, make sure to let me die. If one experiences something too often, it loses its edge, and they forget how beautiful or precious it really is. When I was a boy, I believe it was my parents who told me that..."

The Lord of The Pits finally shut up, but continued to prattle as they passed more and more of the Pits, passing dead Agency members and priests, along with a few dead slaves. Sometimes they would even pass a few survivors, but that barely ever happened. About five minutes from the top, the Lord Below was finally fully formed, the same all-knowing, depressed look on his face.

"Don't expect me to admit anything or say anything. I will speak my mind and tell what needs to be said, however I will not lie." The voice said with newfound strength.

Kazansky chuckled. “You know... I am wondering... what is the point? After all, you are doing something extremely stupid now...”

They tore out of the Pits, the cold wind flowing around their bodies. Antalia began to shrink, slowly, slowly around them. Kazansky's chuckle broke into a mad laughter. “You think I am fool enough to toss your body to the people of Antanjyl, to make you seem a hero?”

“And would you think I would pass up such a fine trophy for myself?” Below them, there was now the dept of one hundred meters, the people of Antanjyl looking in marvel as they passed.

He let go of the Lord of the Pits. “Not really.”

"We all do stupid things. I do them because I want to spread the truth and bring upon a happiness and understanding which only I could. Now it is up to my trusted followers..." He said with a charismatic smile as he was finally dropped, floating for a second on an updraft of air, just in range of Kazansk, "Even now you do not believe me, what purpose would there be to lie to you? I do not need them to know I am a hero, my devouted followers already assured me of that."

The lord of the pits then quickly descended, wrapping his robe around him as the few citizens still above Antalia looked on in awe at the falling figure, which slowly shrunk to a humanoid form. However, despite his attempts to hide the truth, he really was a master of deception, and as he fell he slowly shrunk to a size of about six feet tall, as he stared upwards, even hundreds of feet in the sky he could see Kazansky and his childe's head. He then quickly turned and began to manuever himself in the air for a suitable target, his eyes glowing faintly, though none could see it. After a second of looking he spotted what he wanted to hit, and quickly began to maneuver towards a towards one of the meat manufacturing plants.

"Xthalcha... T'val Naravad... Xeph' Tiel Donour' Vin..."
"In the end my last role will be the part of a Martyr for my beliefs."
The irony of his words quickly brought a smile to his face as he smacked into the metallic roof, leaving a large indentation as his bones cracked and broke, more from his own power than the actual impact. After that he quickly fell towards one of the heating vents, and as the workers looked on in awe, an immense cloud of fire erupted from the building as all of the gas vents in the entire complex ignited at once.

"What the hell was that?!" One of the Antanjylians said as they watched Alex Kazansky leave after dropping the payload, "C-could that man be the Lord of The Pits?!"

"Shit! What else could it be!"

All the people on the ground, along with some of the secretive Christians, were quickly converted that day. As the Lord Below exited the very earth itself, dropping a payload of what could only be divine wrath upon a building of workers. There were nine hundred people who saw it, and the next day it would make the sixth page of the Imperial Newspaper. Any traces of what hit were hard to distinguish other than a few darkened bones, which only furthered the mystery of the incident.

OOC: Leave? Umm, no.

IC: Kazansky dove down again, tearing into the hole made by the falling body. He would appear, minutes later, carrying an injured worker. Then, he re-entered again to save another, and another, and another. He directed the rescue efforts, and showed the men were to go.

After it was all done, he extracted what seemed to be like a charred skull from there builidng. And he spoke:

Look well at those heads. Those were the Lord of the Pits, and the Emperor Galf. As Allanea defeated their armies, so they have fallen as well. They have not had the courage to sacrifice for their faith, and the Lord of the Pits had failed to beat me in a fair fight, though he had many an advantage of me. I have killed other beings like it before. He is not the first, nor is he the last. Now, here is my message to you:

Remember these. When new tyrants arise in Antanjyl, I will return.

Then, he left – taking the skulls.

One of the civilians pulled out a cigarette and looked at the charred skull, then when Alex Kazansky flew off he laughed a bit. It was rather insane, and most of the people were glazed over at what had happened.

"Eh, I always thought the Lord Below was bigger." The man finally said before walking off smoking, heading back underground, "Though whoever that bastard was, he frickin' had the Emperor's head!"

"Wasn't he assassinated in an explosion?" One of the other people asked as they looked at the burnt factory.

"I guess... Maybe he found the head? Must be some trick from Allanea and their allies. That guy sure didn't look like he was from Antanjyl..."

"Maybe he was one of those monsters the Gods spoke of in the Rashidi scrolls?"

The debate continued for awhile as they talked it over, more than a bit confused. It was all very random, a flying man and whatnot, but most figured he was some vicious beast that was so frequently mentioned in the scrolls. Whatever he dropped, he said it was the Lord Below, but some people considered the being more of a concept, while a few others vaguely wondered what was going on. All in all it was rather confusing what had just happened there... Most considered that it was some other God's messenger, and in the end they all considered it Filarhh's, as the God of the Sun was notoriously at war with the Lord Below... Though they were still confused on whether a god could stay dead... But it didn't matter, because the devout were more loyal than ever, while the rest were too confused to do anything, and simply stood there in a daze.

As they debated, numerous robed monks quietly left the Pits carrying the three swords. The man in charge of Red Feast Control Room 32A was among these, and in his robe was a secondary book of sermons. The groups quietly melded into society for now, despite the horrific scars and burns covering them. They would be needed to spread the Lord's words so that his passive sacrifice by that other creature would not be in vain. He died without putting up much of a fight, but his devout cultists knew far better than that. He knew he would not be able to win against the man, so instead he attempted to teach the man... As that had failed, it was now up to Phalax and the others to continue his bidding now that he was destroyed.