The Dark Ages [Dark Data]

[Okor]

A black tongue, warped to intone the impossible language of Daemons, ran across ruined teeth as Okor looked out over the idyllic plains. Blades of grass blew in the wind, a sheen of dew shining as the field shimmered and shifted with the breeze. He raised his rusted helmet to his horned head, sealing his rank corruption inside corroded ceramite. ”It’s about time I took the fight to some poor bastard,” he said, his armour lending a guttural growl to his words as they filtered through the vox. Eagles soared through the sky in the distance, dwarfing what structures stood on the horizon.

”The arena lies that way. The scent of blood and… glory is still fresh in my mind,” gurgled the giant, inclining his head towards a marble dot far off on the distance.

The hacker looked up from his ongoing manipulation of Omnillium, goggles falling over his eyes, giving the appearance of some multifaceted insectoid abomination, one step closer to the glory in gangrene offered by Nurgle. “Blood sport, Okor? I would say that sounds like it’d be beneath you, but then again, you did crawl out of the sewer back in The Deeps.”

The marine chuckled, errant pebbles on the cobblestone road beneath the group vibrating with the bass rumble. ”Aye, they organized a tourney. I needed to… kill, and they needed to watch someone kill. It was enjoyable enough.”

Hiro knelt down as iridescent ribbons of power flowed from the ruins of his vehicle back into himself, their new companion sitting on the edge of their crystalline chariot, feet kicking freely as they waited for the renegade ronin to reclaim the remains. “Did you do well?” Asked Madotsuki as they perched atop their arcane construct, lightly clutching a blade between their fingers.

Okor shrugged, the mouldering masses upon his shoulders shifting. ”I claimed two before some brigand got lucky and beat my… brains out, with a rock. I hope to repay them that favour, in time.”

With a final deft movement of his hands, Hiro drew the remaining Omnillium into his essence before turning back to the path before them.

“Well, here we are. A zombie, a Samurai, and a magical little girl out to fight the physical embodiment of corruption. Only thing between us and a Dataverse series is that Madotsuki doesn’t have an action figure.”

“Wait, you two have action figures?” Asked the girl as she dropped down from her shining vehicle, the magic and Omnillium that held it together flowing back into her being, her razor-thin blade held at her hip.

”So I’ve been told. Apparently it can be disassembled and burned without lasting damage. To have one’s achievements and abilities recognized is... “ He paused, trying to find the words. ”... Appreciated.”

“Hey, fuck you man.” Said Hiro, adjusting the Katana at his belt as he began to walk alongside the child and the corpse. “The most impressive thing mine got was a damn athlete's cup. There’s no justice in this world.”

The Chosen of The Plague God hefted his bubonic blade, slime seeping from its length, staining his broad shoulders.

”No. Not yet.”