NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Continued from here: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=545966

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The One walked for many days along the bleak trail of waste and despair, heading towards the rotting monolith in the distance where he would need to summon forth the negative energy required to make the leap into Elysium. As he drew closer and closer he began to notice a stench so deep and disgusting that even he was revolted by it, and he knew that the evil at this place of death and anguish was even greater than what his own black heart contained.

But finally he had arrived, and within the giant burning mountain of bodies there sat a path that had been opened up, and he knew that if he followed the trail he would soon arrive at a clearing. As he walked his glanced from side to side, the melted faces of the slain starring back at him with an expression of pure horror permanently fixed to them. Even though the countless dead had laid at this site for ages, he noticed that as he passed they turned their heads ever so slightly and followed him with eyeless sockets, making careful note of his every move. It was then that he saw a crumbled stone altar in the middle of the small clearing at the heart of the corpse mountain, and inscribed around it were ancient symbols of an occult faith that had died long before the dawn of man. It was here that The One stood and prepared to conjure the unspeakable horrors he would need to liberate Dreadfire from the clutches of the Gods.

He lowered his head and began to quietly chant the forbidden words that had not been spoken for thousands of years, and almost immediately the sky turned from a blood red to an impenetrable black. A white mist began to roll in from the top of the peaks of carcasses and encircle The One as his voice began to grow in volume and intensity, and gradually the ancient symbols began to glow with a demonic orange light. The ground trembled and the air began to pop with the sound of electricity, and in an instant the charred and decomposed corpses screamed loudly in unison as the blood stained soil split and broke, creating a giant chasm of swirling and unholy energy. From the gaping hole a mammoth shadow figure rose and arched itself forward, glaring at the Death Dealer with a blackened face before recoiling its form and then swarming around the altar with great force.

The One's long coat flapped violently as he was picked up from the ground and whirled around a mighty tornado of energy and wind, lifting him upwards with staggering force and speed. He braced himself as he felt the cold of the underworld leaving him, but as hard as he tried to maintain his composure he could not resist the pressure of the dimensional leap, and he momentarily blacked out as warming light engulfed his body. He came to as he dropped through a rift gate that had opened above the arena where Dreadfire had sat chained for many eons, and he scanned the area quickly to make sure that the Gods were not present. To his relief all he saw was the broken Damien sitting on the stone floor where he had remained, and The One then moved towards him quickly while speaking his name.

Dreadfire! Dreadfire it is I, awaken!

Slowly Damien responded to The One's calls by turning his head towards him ever so slightly. It took him a moment to recognize the figure of his faithful servant, and once his mind made the connection he sprang to life once again. One! What....how did you get here? Immediately The One told Damien that there was no time, and that he must move quick before the Gods could counter his spell and expell him back to the Underworld. Elysium then grew dark as the demonic entity exited the Death Dealer's body and entered the golden chains that kept Dreadfire attached to the arena, and Damien yelled loudly as the metal grew hot and then snapped under the unholy energy.

It was then that the Gods took notice and materialized on their balcony within the arena, and The One quickly gathered Damien from the floor and attempted to flee back across the realms. The rift gate that had reopened was promptly closed as the eldest God waved his hands and cast his powerful energies into the black void, and One knew that he would have to act fast if this rescue was to be successful. As they ran the rest of the company of Gods attempted to stop them, but before the Death Dealer was frozen in place he pushed Dreadfire into an open well on the far side of the arena, to which the Gods shouted loudly, NO! What hast thou done!?!?!

Mightiest self cast out of Thy Elysium. With blood of Nazarene I write the story of man. 2000 years is nothing...though it has been enough. Come forth victorious, muting the foul angelic choirs!

Little did The One know that the water he had pushed Damien into was a divine well used to grant power to the Gods and their ilk, and it was with horror that the thirty seven did look on as the water began to boil and turn a blood red. Slowly rising up from with well came Dreadfire, wreathed in flame and glowing with a deep red and orange light. The One had to utter the final words and grant Damien godship over whatever was designated for him. Damien Dreadfire, God of Destruction, Pestilence, Vengeance, and War. Go forth, conquer all!

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The newly crowned God opened his blank eyes and smiled wickedly as he advanced towards the frozen One, for now he was on an equal plane with the masters of the universe, and they could not deny him his new title. I'll be leaving now. He said in a multi-tone voice as he grabbed ahold of the Death Dealer and vanished from the arena.

I'm sorry master, it was all I could do to get you out of there.

Dreadfire took in an unsteady breath, his body pulsating with the new power that flowed through him. What have I become One....I feel...limitless, I feel absolute. It was then that he noticed that they were standing in a void, where time and space were non-existant. You are a God now Damien, you can do whatever it is you please. However, should you choose to return to the Realm of the Living, you will not be able to keep all your power within your human form. You will be reduced to a demigod, but you will be reanimated from within your body's prison.

He thought for a second, thinking about all that he had accomplished and his goal of standing at the top of the Earthen pyramid. The race of man is yours for the taking m'lord, do with them as you please. This brought a smile to Dreadfire's face.

None of thy empty Gods shall ever stand above me, none of thy weak brothers shall ever share my blood. My awareness, catalyst of Godhate I have spawned, in sinister ecstasy eternally I decompose.

Damien knew that at any point he could forsake his mortal body and return in triumph to the Other Side, but he also knew that there were great works yet to be done on Earth. Before disappearing back into the Realm of the Living, Dreadfire teleported The One back inside the Tomb of the Mutilated, where he could rise and return to serve him and lead the Death Dealers once again.

Dreadfire's body had been encased in crystal within the Vault of Souls, frozen in stasis and awaiting the time when his soul would return. Alas the time did come, and from a blackened gate did his essence slip through and return to its human shell. The entire Vault began to tremor violently as the crystal casing cracked and groaned its disapproval, finally shattering into millions of pieces and unleashing a torrent of flames throughout the entire narrow chamber. The intense backdraft literally melted every pod within the Vault, releasing the abominations that had been locked away for thousands of years.

The flames shot outward from the Vault, filling the neighboring chamber from within the Halls of the Dead then finally dispersing into the air and leaving a thick smell of sulfur behind. However, the Vault still burned as Dreadfire stood from his earthly prison and began to walk ominously towards the opening at the far end, the demons and monstrosities bowing to him as the fires raged powerfully all around. He then exited the Vault and began to walk towards the entrance of the Halls, where he would then leave the cursed place and return to his home....to reclaim his mantle as a God among men.

Race of man! The errors of a wise man make the rules. Ye shall see rather than the perfection of the fool. The most divine, I am many among so very few. Beyond redemption, beyond the weak, thus I beheld the truth!

Wreathed in flame, with flesh smoking and ablaze but undamaged he threw open the gates of the Halls with a mere glance, then stepped out into the night air. He took in a deep breath and muttered to himself that it was good to be home, even though on Earth he was little more than a demigod and would be limited in his abilities while his essence was bound to a mortal body. As he departed the infamous chamber he felt the rush of the once caged creatures of the night behind him as they fled from their prison and out into the free world.

The One had also returned to the Realm of the Living, and immediately teleported to the Great Hall to inform Azrael that his father had returned...and with a vengeance. Upon being waked from slumber and informed of the news, the young Warlord began to sweat heavily. He knew that perhaps the best thing was to leave Damien to his devices and not so much as confront him, for he did not what to expect from his father.

I'm not sure if he's even the same man he once was m'lord, I would advise you flee but stay close. Perhaps the citadel would be a good place, for I doubt Dreadfire would ever set foot in there again seeing as he has only himself to worship now.

Azrael agreed and gathered a few things before immediately leaving the Great Hall and departing for Dawn's Cathedral, the ancient church that sat at the highest point in ULE City. Just as he was departing he caught a glimpse of Damien out of the corner of his eye, his imposing figure glowing brightly in the darkness. This filled the young Warlord with terror that he had never experienced before, and he found himself running at full sprint away from the Hall and towards safety.

None of thy empty Gods shall ever stand above me. None of thy weak brothers shalt ever share my blood. My awareness, catalyst of Godhate I have spawned,
in sinister ecstasy eternally I'm decomposed.

Once he arrived at the steps of the Great Hall, the flames that engulfed Damien's body were quenched and only the stink of sulfur remained. The large oak doors opened themselves as he entered the ancient building to a waiting One and legion of Death Dealers, who bowed their heads silently in respect for their master. He nodded his approval briefly before starting up the stairs and down the long hall towards his throne room, which had been changed around by Azrael and no longer resembled the bleak place of anger and sorrow that it once was.

He entered the room and closed his eyes briefly, and upon opening them his throne room was exactly the way it used to be when he first rose to power....a dark and cold stone floor, red stained glass windows depicting horrific battle scenes, and bare walls lit only by burning torches. His black obsidian throne sat atop a pile of human skulls that were cemented in place, and it was here that he would sit and plot the next chapter in the long story that was Automagfreek.

He then communicated to The One not through spoken words but instead through his mind, telling him to send forth a message to the Lords of Gholgoth and those both near and afa:

I have returned.....

I am the pure flame that burns. I am Sirius son. I am the infinite space. I am the most conquering one!

Helghan's Command Bunker: Norska


Kraven was shutting itself down, slowly the factories stopped churning out machines of war, bullets by the trillions, along with shells, grenades and other things designed to purposefuly maim and destroy...

The People of Kraven, long since beaten into submission, long since oppressed and long since broken, knew nothing else... this was uncommon, never had The High Command ordered them to stop producing weapons, to leave the factories and return to their homes....

People feared at first, refusing to leave their stations should this be some kind of bizzarre test of loyalty to the Corporation, but no... it was genuine, they actually wanted the people to cease production and return home...

Capitol Police marched in unison back to Barracks, into under ground Bunkers and into the defensive walls that lined the cities, Flak Cannons were left unmanned, and Fleets returned to their ports, each ship returning to a Hardened Bunker, protecting them from satelites above and the preying eyes of those who would seek to capitalise from a period of Kraven Isolationism.

However, Helghan mused, he had Ordered the withdrawal, the sudden and unforseen ending of hostilities with Chechnya, and the shutting down of aforementioned factories, Still Helghan didn't like this but, he needed protection, how could a country that was, one hundred percent of the time on high alert and ready for any attack, suddenly shut down all of war time procedures and then just "Disappear"... it just didn't happen...

People would expect this to be a Kraven trick... No, Helghan needed some insurance...

Automagfreek, Kraven had used them before, perhaps... just perhaps Damien Dreadfire was gullible enough to help us again, use Automagfreek and their Sentinels as a protective screen, a protective barrier against possible aggression while The Kraven Military Arm, rebuilt itself and modernised...

Perhaps... Perhaps just.... or Perhaps not.... Perhaps he was walking into a death trap, it would just be something... a risk, he would have to take...


The Imperial Reichstadt Empire of The Kraven Corporation

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Things have happened in the past, Bad things between both our nations, where each of us did terrible things to one another... But time will heal all wounds, and perhaps now, The Time is right to heal another...

I, Personally wish to speak with youself, Damien Dreadfire, if you would be so kind as to Grant, The Kraven High Command an audience, I can Assure you, our past deeds have died with the machine spirit that plagued the great name of Kraven...

We await for your reply...

Grand Reichmarshal Helghan
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As had happened so many times before, a chill ran through the room as a shadow grew from nothing at all, beside Damien's throne. It rose up from the floor impossibly and from the form stepped The Beast, clad in his warrior attire and distinctive black hat.

On one level, Delta seemed as intimidating and dangerous as ever, but on another, he seemed small and weak. If Damien concentrated, he would realize that Delta himself was not in the room, but merely a small part of his being was manifesting itself. The rest was firmly planted in the underworld after his last death.

The former Khan chuckled. "Welcome back, Dreadfire... a name you gave new meaning to, it seems." Striding slowly down from the throne to circle Damien once, he removed his hat and let it fall away into nothingness. "So, now that you are back, my old friend... and now that your eyes have been fully opened... who shall we sacrifice first?"

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Omar Pace stared at the message from The One for nearly three minutes. His aides shifted nervously as he read, re-read and re-re-read the message. Finally, he set the piece of paper down and leaned back slowly. "None of you have any idea how much I hate Damien Dreadfire right now... I'm positive I could have influenced Azrael to see things my way. And possibly have swayed Dayne with Azrael's support. Then Gholgoth would fall into step as well. Dreadfire returning will galvanize Dayne and will remove any influence I have outside Crimmond..."

He stood. "I hate that man with a passion."

In the days that passed Damien ignored all questions and commentaries from those both domestic and foreign, concentrating instead on getting himself re-started as the undisputed ruler of Automagfreek. There were times in the past that he wondered why he was bound to this Earthly realm when peace and serenity lay just within reach in the Other Side, but having had his eyes opened for the first time he knew now what his purpose in life was; to be the negative to the Universe's positive, the bad to mankind's good, the wolf in the sheep's pen.

Having been recharged with a new vigor he began setting plans in motion to consolidate Azrael's imperial power and advance AMF to the next chaper in its history. This would be a fairly simple task since the tribal culture that Dreadfire had helped nurture remain largely unchanged, though control of the military and its structure would need to be revamped. In the years since the Setinels moved out of the laboratories and out into their own communities, their presence within the Freekish armed services began to diminish, being gradually phased out by professional Freekish soldiers and The Fallen, whom Azrael had shown particular favor to. This would simply not do, and Damien sent forth word to Marv Bonesplitter, head of AMF's Defense Department, that the ranks were to be restructured with a Sentinel backbone once more.

But the Freeks and Fallen were fierce and proven fighters and would still maintain a significant presence in Dreadfire's new military, but the diminishing Sentinel numbers would be bolstered several fold. One thing his son had done well was researching and implementing new technologies, such as spearheading the Stratosfighter II project and the FAF-1 'Vassago' attack helicopter. These advances pleased Damien and he would no doubt build further upon their designs, but he would concentrate on upgrading and advancing every branch of his armed forces into the next generation.

For this he would call upon his best engineers and designers to put in place the groundwork for a third a totally revamped Stratosfighter that could easily match or outclass anything in the skies, and advanced warships to bring Automagfreek back into the realm of naval supremacy that it had achieved back in the days of the great World Wars. His beloved ground forces would need the least overhaul of any branch since its was the most modern and well equipped force in the Empire, receiving a large portion of Defense Department funds for anything its commanders required.

As Dreadfire sat upon his throne and plotted his military revival, he also knew that he would have to expand his Empire in other non-forceful ways. It had been many ages since his Empire consisted of many seperate nations under a unified Freekish bannder, and he would once again seek to build upon the foundations that had long since crumbled with the intention of building a new order for the ages. His plans were grand and would require sacrifice in order to achieve, and he cursed his body of flesh for restraining the power that his soul now contained, for inside a human shell he would be capable of very, very little.

He rose from his seat and moved towards the large bay window that had been frosted over ever so slightly as if a great inferno had raged inside the room, where he looked outwards toward the dying sun and the shadows it cast on his private gardens below. The large bronze statue of Bastien and steel statue of Damien still dominated the scene as always, and a smile formed on his face for just a moment before disappearing. If ony Bastien could see me now.... he thought. But somewhere deep down he felt that his long departed friend would be disappointed in him and what he had become.

Delta was unhappy at being ignored, in fact he proved it by flinging a Sentinel that got in his way into a wall as he left the building. He was still spotted lurking around the area, sometimes seen with Gar the Executioner in the gardens. The presence of the two was having an interesting effect on the plantlife. Some was thriving nearly beyond the gardeners' abilities to maintain it and some was dying off despite their best efforts.

Finally, Delta grew tired of waiting for Damien to summon him and was suddenly behind him. Destroyer. The former warlord intoned, voice echoing in the skulls of any nearby. He shifted his voice to a normal human one. "You have ignored me since you returned. I shall not be ignored any longer. I am one of the few on this plane that understand you. You are... were the only mortal I truly respected. Now you have power beyond imagination. That matters not, though. Years ago, I swore myself to the cause of the Ministry. That oath stands to this day. Share your plans with me, Damien... that I might assist you."