Wednesday, May 24, 2017
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Paragon stared at the smoky remains of the mainframe for a moment as he finished absorbing the last bytes from the new dataset. His mind felt bloated and his vision blurred. Slowly his zealous hatred culled while he rested mentally ingesting the sampled data.
"You have accomplished your goal." came the voice of McGregor from behind. The assassin quickly turned to see the last Templar entering the inner sect. His armor was scorched and cracked in places and he had removed his helm revealing a face that looked as young as his own. A vibrant tattoo of the triple cross was etched into his forehead. His icy blue eyes seemed kind and shown with an inner light.
"You must be wondering what's next and I will tell you." McGregor looked grim as he deactivated his power fist and sealed his combi weapon. "Your name should be etched in stone within the Emperor's throne room in honor of you and what you've accomplished here but unfortunately that is not to be. You are a great weapon, too great to be trusted by the small the minds of those who created you. So... they have sent another company of Imperial Marines to silence you. They are of the Legion known as the White Scars... falsely informed that you are the product of a violent experiment gone wrong in league with a rogue sect of Templars. They will shoot on sight and no questions are to be asked. We cannot bargain with them."
"How do you know this to be?" asked Paragon.
"I am derived from a clandestine species known by a very few as the Perpetuals. Our kind is immortal for I have lived just as long as the holy Emperor." confided McGregor. "You know me by my true name too. Unfortunately those of my kind are often drawn to the dark side because simply absolute power corrupts. I have spent the last millennium of my life as a Templar and was one so very long ago before the coming of the age of technology. We live by a simple code to serve mankind, it is a duty we freely choose. Surround yourself with a beacon of good faith, it will serve you well.
"So to answer your question indirectly I was able to ascertain the true meaning behind your creation, your task and your final culmination. I have access to secrets highly guarded by those who formulated this plan. To you it does not matter how I came to find out but to heed my advice. There is not much time left before the arrival of the White Scars. If you want to survive then follow me." McGregor held out an open gauntlet. "Do I have your trust?"
Paragon looked down upon the open gauntlet. Dried blood and bits of fleshy gore clung to the finger tips. "I trust you." He gripped the gauntlet feeling the crushing power of the servo enhanced grip. Paragon squeezed tightly forming a symbolic bond with the Templar.
"Some where within the confines of this ship is a portal we can access to escape."
Monday, May 22, 2017
Paragon slid against the wall and activated his camofield. His eyes were two points of jet black staring into the void ahead. McGregor knelt down taking the last melta bomb and set the timer to a short count then he hurled it around the bend. There came the flash from the explosion and bright light filled the hallway. They heard hard steps clanking against Wraithbone. A tall silhouette appeared framed by the burning air. The gigantic figure carried a spear which it held out menacingly stabbing into the dark ether. McGregor broke into a charge firing his combi weapon at point blank range. The Avatar smashed a closed fist into the Huscarl knocking him into the wall. "Attack!" shouted the last Templar as he righted himself and struck back with his power fist.
The assassin slipped past the tussle unseen entering the final parameter. There before him lay the Infinity Circuit unguarded. "Who approaches?" came a voice of alien tongue. Paragon ignored the question as he approached the waiting console. Quickly he slipped his finger tips into the runic panel. "Shea nudh Asuryanish ereintha Asuryanat!" came the unseen voice again. "May the blessings of Asuryan protect the children of Asuryan from abomination." said Paragon mentally translating the alien phrase. His black body glove shimmered as the nanobytes broke free streaming down his arms racing into the tiny hidden apertures. The panel began to trimmer as the nanobytes sluiced into the circuit. Paragon felt sudden elation as he stood over the circuit bare now that the glove had taken its true form. A symbiotic link grabbed at his mind filling his ears with the tortured screams of thousand souls consumed by the man made virus... soon it would be millions.
Long black tentacles erupted from the mainframe grasping him by the arms. They quickly slid around his forearms cruelly twisting about as the alien suckers bit at his exposed bare flesh. It burned like fire, the pain was intense. He could feel the tentacles drawing him into the living circuit. His bones began to crack from the extreme force exerted upon his arms. Slowly more tentacles unfolded from the mainframe reaching down to grasp at his legs. Paragon went rigid driving the pain from his mind as he continued to listen to the many screams and hopeless wailing emanating from the Infinity Circuit. Some of the voices cried out begging for mercy as they were consumed. "Nil ann ach cleasai, agus tá an iomad measa aige air féin." he said to no one in particular. "It is done now." He could not help but laugh as he continued to listen until there was nothing but utter silence.
His left hand broke free clutching the long hilt of a hidden dagger girded to his chest. Quickly he cut across the thick ropey tentacles grasping his other arm. Poisonous black ichor spilled from the deep wounds filling the air with a putrid toxic miasma. More tentacles erupted from the circuit lashing out at his face. Again he drove the dagger down hard sawing at its monstrous clinging grasp.
The nanobytes returned rushing back out again sated from their immediate task. Slipping through the tight grip of the many tentacles the nanobytes reattached to his body bringing renewed vigor. Paragon felt the energy seeping back into his body as he tore away the last of the long slimy boneless limbs. The mainframe collapsed falling apart in a steaming wreck.