Chapter 2
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The First Crypt
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Azrath stepped down from the pile of mechanized corpses he amassed in battle, watching the remaining watchmen disappear into the woods. A crowd had formed at the base of the pile, soldiers of all races congregating around the newly formed demigod and his bounty. He simply walked through them, his left eye igniting into an ardent red, granting him clairvoyance and a clear path towards his next objective; the first crypt, the mass grave from which the watchmen rise. As he walked, the sea of bodies parted, giving him a wide berth, their faces filled with a mixture of fear and admiration. Each of them moved with haste and none dared to stand in his path except for one, a Kragesk warrior that stood at least three feet over him and refused to move, her face holding a stern appearance. They held a tense eye contact, the surrounding soldiers murmuring and exchanging concerned glances. She eventually crossed her four arms over her chest in a quick salute and addressed Azrath. “Lieutenant Gutra, third infantry company of the Midgard Defense Force. I don’t know who or what Belosroth is but what I do know is that you’re very good at killing those watchmen and you seem to be on our side. So, lord Azrath, from this moment forward, I am at your service.” She bowed her head and knelt on one digitigrade knee. He watched her with apathy as she bent the knee, and after a moments pause addressed her, “Rise, Gutra, I am no ones lord.” His baleful voice made the fur on the back of her neck stand and sent a shocking chill down her spine. “Where is your leader?” He asked, scanning the crowd for such a figure. “Dead. I am all that’s left of any kind of leader in this army… or at least what’s left of it.” Her eyes shot to the floor as her voice fell in resignation, the stench of death and cauterized flesh still lingering in the air. Destroyed watchmen and dead soldiers of all races can be seen strewn across the battlefield in the most gory display of what war has to offer. Death, and glory to the survivors.
After a moment of consideration, Azrath said “Take your soldiers back to the Ark. Gather your forces and prepare for the next attack.” He walked towards the forest. Gutra moved out of his way, and watched him for a moment, quickly realizing that his path was in the opposite direction of the Ark. She caught up and walked alongside him, pleading “You’re not going to the crypt alone are you? You’re gonna die, you know, we can’t even get any intel on the location without massive casualties, let alone see the inside.” Azrath kept walking forward as Gutra fell behind, he eventually stopped, turned to her and said “I do intend on going alone, and those casualties are the exact reason I’m going alone. I will destroy them. There is no other way.” Her expression became stoic as she recognized the power she faced in the demigod that stood before her. “I understand, but please take this.” she tossed to him a small device, “It’s an IR beacon, if you need any help taking anything out too large―” she looked to the sky as two fighters flew high overhead “―we’ve got your back.” He nodded and turned to head into the forest. “Good luck.” she said under her breath as she watched him vanish into the mist.
The longer he tread into the forest the more the ominous fog encompassed him. His path was clear, though his surroundings were not. He could see only mere feet in front of him, the sounds of the forest growing dimmer until there was nothing left but the sound of crunching wood and foliage beneath his boots. The path he followed eventually terminated at a massive stone entrance embedded in the side of a hill. The crumbling stonework stairs descending down into the crypt were covered in moss and lichen, leading to a massive interlocking metal door, smeared with rust and decay. He stopped, there was something wrong here. His left eye flashed red to reveal the highlighted silhouette of dozens of watchmen, their varying forms running, swinging, slithering, and galloping through the forest and its canopy; although none of them attacked. Instead they watched silently, nothing could be heard aside from the various clicks and whirs of the surrounding watchmen as they waited.
Just as Azrath’s patience wore thin and he was ready to destroy the surrounding watchmen, a loud and sudden hiss could be heard from the metal entrance leading into the crypt. The interlocking doors screamed to life, the sound of metal grinding on metal and massive gears turning could be heard as they began to slide open, a thick fog rolling from its gaping maw. Before they could fully open they were thrown aside violently by two massive mechanical arms, which then lunged themselves towards Azrath. Before he could react, he was grabbed by a powerful claw and thrown, smashing through a tree before landing on his feet, his boots cutting deep into the earth to stop himself. The monstrous form of the construct that stood before Azrath was now fully revealed in the light that permeated the forest. One of its two arms terminated in a massive plasma cannon, while the other sported a sharp three pronged claw. The mechanical beast had a centaur-like body with four protruding legs, the ends of which tapered to form sharp points that dug deep into the earth. Its head featured jaws of metallic teeth and an array of eyes and sensors across the upper portion of its face, forming the gruesome facade of a demonic skull. Lines of green energy, a staple of the inner workings of the watchmen, flickered to life along the entirety of the beast's body and eyes juxtaposing the blackened metal that made up its alien form. Steam shot from the seams of its face as its eyes locked onto Azrath, who stood firm in the face of his first true challenger. A low rumble could be heard deep within the mechanisms of the challenger before it called out in a deep electronic voice.
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“I AM GUARDIAN 002, OF THE NEKROL CRYPT.”
“DEFENSE PROTOCOL 001 IS IN EFFECT, LEAVE OR BE ERADICATED.”
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“Fuck off.” Azrath hissed through clenched teeth, rage pumping through his veins. He smoothly transitioned into a fighting stance, letting the Guardian make the first move. A glowing green blade of hard-light erupted from the clawed arm of the Guardian as it lunged forward, planning to bisect Azrath and end the fight in one swift motion as it had done to the other intruders sent its way. This was not the case with the demi-god. Though he hadn’t expected something so large to move so fast his reactions kicked in to save him from the lunging blade. He sidestepped the attack, causing the hard-light blade to pass through and cauterize the tree behind him, felling it instantly. As the tree cracked down to the earth, Azrath mustered his might and delivered a powerful right hook into the leg of the guardian, metal crunching behind his fist that crackled with red energy, he was barely able to move out of the way of the first attack, he had to press this advantage. He grabbed at the damaged leg with both hands and violently tore outwards, pulling the leg in two, strands of wire flying like strands of muscle coupled with the sound of screaming metal. The Guardian grabbed a hold of him, this time pinning his arms and holding his attacker in place, ready to make the killing blow. It brought the plasma cannon arm around to face Azrath point blank as the gripping claw tightened like a vice around his body. There was no escape. Azrath heard an ominous tone in the back of his head, the familiar voice of Belosroth calling to him, “You will not die here.” His head was filled with a deep thrumming, like the chant of hundreds of warriors that had come before him, watching what he thought would be his imminent demise. Belosroth spoke one last time, “Finish it.”
He felt a power surge within him as the vice around his body tightened and the plasma cannon pointed at his head powered up into an iridescent green. He was able to make out the word that was being chanted through his skull, ancient and lethal. “Fiirak”. He took a deep inhale, and channeled his hate into a single roar, “FIRRAK!” As the first syllable sounded, he felt an ancient and powerful energy well within his throat. And when the second syllable was let loose, a stream of white hot flame erupted in front of his mouth, into the face of the mechanical abomination. The great beast dropped Azrath and held up its arms in reaction to the frenzied flames. The inferno was so ferocious it turned the metal head of the Guardian red hot and set some electrical components on fire. Azrath knew he needed to end this fight as fast as possible; while the metal was still glowing hot he made a bounding leap, coming face to face with the Guardian while it was still distracted. He took the glowing metal in one mighty hand, crushed the head of the beast and tore upwards, wiring and oil thrashing about in place of blood and sinew. The Guardian fell with Azrath holding what was once its head and what is now a mass of hot metal and broken pieces. After his fight with the Guardian, he felt he was ready for anything, that’s when two more massive mechanized monstrosities lumbered out of the crypt.
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