viernes, 11 de mayo de 2012

SDIV Chapter 16 Part 2

Child-like, Ngulu the Broken centered all of his concentration on the transformation before him. The flesh on Cornelius’ face melted, becoming one with the body of the winged creature, whose hold did not lessen as it consumed itself. Red skin arched upwards, struggling to meld the two forms together, ridging where there was union. Flames licked along Cornelius’ shoulder, neck and cheek, where a small head nestled in an ultimate caress. Ngulu saw the moment when Clari died, when her form became no more than an intricate tattoo which added to those already on Cornelius’ body. This was brighter though, a brilliant red tracing a line from Corneliu’s neck, wrapping round his throat and terminating at his eye.

As the human fell to the ground, Ngulu reached forward reverently. It was then that he heard the stamp of feet and the swish of a weapon. Rolling quickly, he tried to avoid the blade, which even now smashed downwards.

Unknown Location

“Now, tell me,” said Shan, stirring the pieces on the board in front of him,” is this usual?”

There was no answer; putrid henchman did not make for good conversational companions. He had hoped to make up for that with the Ori in front of him, revived from a fist-induced slumber. Shan had found him bleeding in the main hanger on his return and reacted true to his nature. He had only recently regained consciousness.

Shan nodded and one of his henchman grabbed the Ori’s hair, and slammed him face first into the board.

“I am querying,” explained Shan slowly, “this chaotic amalgamation of characters. There is a randomness here, which just does not seem right.”

“I’ve noticed that too,” answered the Ori, spitting blood and tooth fragments from his mouth, “there should be more death and less resistance. Who is this one?”

His finger traced the screen, highlighting the small figure there. Unlike the others shown, it carried no data stream and flickered angrily.

“Don’t you know?” asked Shan, puzzled, “Your family has controlled this enterprise for generations.”

“True,” continued the Ori, “and this is the first time I have seen an unaligned piece enter the Game.”

“Explain!” snapped Shan.

“We didn’t put him there…”

Cemetary Plain
Zone III

Burns raised his rifle and fired, the slug smashing into the Knight’s weapon, spinning it from his hand.

“Missed!” said Kam, who had joined him.

“No I didn’t,” replied the sniper, “look!”

Cornelius now stood, dazed yet alive. In front of him, the monster waited, head bowed, ignoring the stupified Knight. Slowly Ngulu the Broken stretched himself full-length on the ground, his muzzle just touching Cornelius’ feet. He was ignored.

…the pain had gone, instead his mind was filled with a chorus of voices. Song vibrated within, opening itself to him. No-one had ever love him, shown him such trust and given him so much. He was ashamed, and yet exultant. She had died for him. Anger now built within. This thing before him had killed her, and must pay…

The reddened skin became more pronounced as Cornelius’ rage grew; what had remained seemed to take a life of its own, writhing and twisting with each contortion. Power surged through him, flames wreathing the ridges of his spiked mohican, curling around his forehead and running along his face and neck. He raised his hand high, the flames coalescing into a bright ball of energy which pranced greedily on his open palm. Cornelius wanted to kill, and his enemy lay open beneath him.

Unknown Location

Shan cackled with glee. He loved this. Under his controls, the remote fighters shadowing him, jinked and weaved, hugging the terrain. The carefully segregated Zones meant nothing to them, and less to him. Here, he was the Lord and Master, and no shrunken dwarf was going to spoil it for him.

Power surges were common here, the instruments adjusting them in line with the Game’s parameters. The strange light show surrounding Cornelius did not register, and Shan dismissed it as nothing more than a distortion of the video feed.

His charges were close now, and he leaned in, concentrating on the controls beneath his fingers. One stroke and he knew it would be over. Eagerly he depressed the firing sequence, then sat back to enjoy the fruits of his labour.

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