The souls of the damned, provided a blazing amber light as they funneled down from a burning, fiery sky turning into a sharp vortex that plunged like a spear into the maw of the obsidian spire.
The necrotorium huffed and churned, like a man taking long, desperate drags on a half done cigarette, breath coming in long fiery gasps. Deep below the earth, the ground rumbled and churned with an ever present tremor. Distant screams echoed faintly on the wind as the incoming flood of souls were pressed, burned, tortured and torn, juiced like lemons to extract the sweet power that existed at their core.
The obsidian courtyard flickered with the light of the damned, and the slow sweeping crinoline of darkness.
At the head of it all, General Kazna sat swathed in a gown of blackness and armored in dark, sinister steel. The trident she held towered nearly sixteen feet into the air, its obsidian black edges glittering with a hungry edge, like the saliva that drips from a hellhound's teeth. Her molten gold eyes burned from the depth of her shadowed helm, as she cast her eyes over her subjects.
This was not the fertile belt of Anin, not the blazing miles of moss under Chal or the burning ash of the dark season, but it was the empire she had made with her own steel.
Before her, the obsidian floor crawled with her waiting subjects, creatures and things swathed in sheets of darkness, and halo's of sickly orange light. They were aliens, humans and Tesraki, and Drev, but also corrupted Makers, their dim golden aura splotchy and flickering disconnected from the light of their beloved Revelation. Everette stood at her side, his body awash with flickering golden light dimming towards orange at the edges, more a patchwork than solid halo.
It had taken him a while to recover from being blown apart by Vir and his people, and still the Maker wasn't quite at full power, not that that had been much to shake a stick at to begin with. His Anima had been weak on the back of his death, gone mad and turned towards cannibalism in his last days.
To be honest, there really wasn't much to work with.
She had originally hoped to replace Everette with Emperor Celex, but the wily bastard had been stronger than she anticipated. She had assumed, with what she knew about him, his past as a Maker and his present as a warlord that he would be easy to turn, but instead he had given up his bid for power and cast his lots in with the wrong side.
It seemed as if her efforts to break him, had robbed him of his fire , his hunger for power.
It was a real pity. She could certainly have used him for greater things.
Kazna tapped her fingers on the edge of her glass throne and brooded softly.
There was little true power in this room, but plenty of greed. A lot of little people making themselves out to be bigger than they were. The strongest things here lurked in the shadows, hunkered in the dark corners and watched from above, indescribable and unknowing.
But there was something else emanating from the shadows. At first she didn't notice its presence over the cold aura of darkness that seemed to permeate the room around her, but as she sat the more she became aware of another presence, a powerful presence lurking in the darkness just behind her and over her right shoulder. Finally, managing to attribute the feeling to a location, she could feel it with more power now, like a warm halo of light cast from the sun or a gently crackling fire pit. The sensation was surprisingly pleasant, like the gentle wash of waves in a warm sea, contemptuously powerful.
Kazna straightened her back with something approaching concern, but refused to show it as she relaxed languidly against the dark glass, "I do not allow just anyone to lurk in my shadow."
She felt the figure step forward, and heard its footsteps on the ground.
So it had a corporeal form, that was good. If it tried anything, she could always stick it through the guts with her trident, and be done with the whole thing, but still she refused to look, relying on her instincts to guide her.
The warm power continued to wash over her in gentle thrumming pulses like a steady beating heart.
She could feel the thing, standing at her shoulder and looking on at the mingling crowd.
This was Maker power, she was sure of it, not simply Everettes power, weak and tenuous as it was.
This was the real deal, a powerful aura from an even more powerful source.
For a moment she was almost worried.
Had the Architect sent an assassin.
But no that didn't seem like his style, besides he had bigger problems to attend to. The war she was waging on behalf of the void was a war against the constructs.
"A leader who surrounds themselves with weak subjects is not much of a leader at all." The voice said stiffly, and Kazna felt herself bristle slightly, finally turning to examine her powerful visitor. Everett, having failed to sense them up until now, also turned with a streak of surprise on his face.
Upon seeing their visitor, Kazna half rose, adjusting her hand on the haft of her spear.
Everette raised his hand, sputtering orange power flickering at his fingertips., which almost died the moment he lay eyes on their visitor. His mouth dropped open in silent recognition.
The human looked over the two of them with an expression of utter contempt, her cold gray and hazel ringed eyes unwavering even as Kazna towered over her. Short flaxen hair stuck in general untidiness from the crown of her skull. She did not bother to hide the contempt on her face as she stared out at the waiting floor.
"Renegade" Everette breathed.
Kazna knew the name, knew both the name and the face.
Maverick.....
She thought that's what the human had gone by in its construct form, and thought it was still a construct she could sense the fraying edges of the theater that held the soul tenuously to the body.
Maverick no longer.
Kazna sat back down in her chair, uneasy.
Renegade's light did not flicker, or dim with void touch despite the creature that lurked inside of her. She wasn't the only person in this crowd that had taken on a visitor, but somehow she managed to be the only one whose Anima had not begun to erode. She wasn't the only person here with a visitor, but she radiated an easy, power
"Renegade." She repeated.
For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of hatred pass over the construct's lips before it faded into a frown of distaste.
She knew about this one. The void had informed her of Renegade's existence, herpossible corruption to the other side. But here she was, and without trying to shove something metal and edged down Kazna's throat. That at least was a good sign.
Kazna may have been the power here, but even she knew there were some forms of fire you didn't play with. From what she had heard Renegade was old and powerful. The older an anima gets the more powerful it is. Deus may have been born powerful but the architect's old guard were in a class all their own. This one was rumored to have been on the architect's right hand since the dawn of the very universe itself.
Its one biggest failing.
Pride and envy
Kazna could work with that.
"A pleasure you could join us." Kazna said easing into the conversation as if she had expected the Maker's presence all along, again, she thought she detected a hint of distaste on the Maker's face. It came in a sharp snap of expressions.
It was a rather odd sensation, like she was looking at two different people.
One was utterly bored with her surroundings, the other was seething with hatred.
Her aura flared even hotter, even more gold for a second before dying away. The auras were not visible to everyone in the crowd, so no one turned to look, but Kazna could see it as plain as day. Every time the Maker's face changed to anger, the aura brightened, became more gold purifying almost towards white, but as soon as the expression vanished the aura dimmed, still powerful but not.... Quite.
Renegade did not return the pleasantries, "I certainly hope these are not what passes for your soldiers."
Kazna bristled again, unwilling to be questioned in her own territory by an interloper.
"No, simply those who help to finance this venture. We may be using the power of the void, but the power of the void does not create spaceships."
The maker grunted noncommittally.
"Admiral Vir isn't going to kill himself, unfortunately."
The golden aura flared, and just for a moment, a look of absolute rage passed over the Maker's face. The expression created such a change that it was almost as if kazna was looking at a completely different person. WIth the look of rage came a sudden flare of golden light, so hot it could have burned off the impurities from the walls around her. The maker stepped forward fists twitching as if she planned on striking Kazna, but the expression was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.
Interesting, she wasn't yet sure what to make of that.
WHen the aura dimmed, the face looked almost annoyed, jaw clenching, "He's just a human. By this point I assume you could have managed something.
Kazna laughed, "It's not the pilot I am worried about, this was never about him."
The Maker frowned.
"His power is little in comparison to hers." Kazna mused. The sentence was hard to say without a sneer
"Apotheosis," Renegade said, "Then why go after him so fervently."
Kazna worked her jaw, "The stupid little human owes me a blood debt."
Renegade snorted, "Your battle partner's life is it. You understand he is still alive in all the senses that matter. Lanus, fights for the Architect now."
Kazna bristled again, "You keep your tongue to yourself."
Renegade didn't so much as flinch, "I doubt this will win his favor, as if your relationship wasn't a shambles already."
Kazna stood towering over the small human and took a step closer.
Renegade didn't even have the courtesy to flinch.
She looked up at Kazna and then back at the floor before her, where bodies still mingled.
"Void help you." She said before turning and vanishing back into the darkness