The Dark Ages [Dark Data]

[Okor]

Okor was unable to do anything but grit his fangs at the plasma-based projectile raced towards him, bolts of black lightning arcing off the abominable arrow, scorching the earth black with its baleful energies. The child, the hacker, and the hunter moving almost imperceptibly away from his rotting bulk, seeking to escape the oncoming doom.

That was not the way of Nurgle. His host of parasites writhed within him, shifting free-floating bones plates to the fore, attempting to preserve their ancient host. Others fled, attempting to deny the eternal truth of entropy, that all things must end. Beneath his ancient helm, Okor’s rotting face slowly split into a grin, accepting the devastation that was now but a mere inch away.

With the sound of screaming souls damned to suffer in the name of Nebula, and the stench of burnt flesh, scorched steel, and the ozone set aflame, the plasma arrow connected with the plagued paladin’s chestplate. The three other Nebulous warriors were sent flying from the blast, their flanks scorched by fell energies. The mouldering mass of the marine was sent careening backwards, trailing smoke and black fire as he careened into a thicket of dead trees, bones cracking as they met the copse of corpse-wood.

“Don’t you see it’s no use struggling?” screamed the Centaur, rearing up on its back legs, levelling the blaster that had replaced their capacity for a peaceful life as it sent beams of black energy towards the hunters. “The glorious light of Nebula will shine eternal!”

”Enough,” snarled Okor, forcing himself up from the branches that impaled his mummified flesh. He took a shaking step forward, born aloft of shattered legs that dragged behind his diseased bulk. The quarter-man loosed another bolt, piercing Okor’s chestplate and emerging out of his back. ”Nebula’s light is dying.” This statement was met with a roar and a seemingly never-ending hail of bolts, each lance of dark energy tearing through his ceramite carapace and withered flesh.

Yet still, he came, roaring his defiance over the hail of las-fire. ”You can rage against it all you like, but the light is dying!” An arm bent at an unnatural angle twisted itself back into place with the now-familiar sound of tearing flesh, the branch driven into his wrist little more than an annoyance as he drew and fired his pistol in a singular motion. The centaur hissed in annoyance as it easily dodged the shell, its alchemical payload setting a tree alight behind the abomination. ”There will only be darkness, when we… are done with you. No god, no light, no hope, no tomorrow. Another tortured step, bones cracking as the twisted creation of meat, metal, and warp-stuff within his armour forced his errant endoskeleton back into position. ”There will only be darkness. For the eternity of that singular second, you will have been left behind, your soul sworn to an errant wisp… forsaken, for the merest scrap of strength.”

He spread his arms wide, charred flesh explosively expanding as it grew to fill the holes blasted through his torso. ”You are but a candle in the wind, flickering and fading.” He hefted his blade, the centaur’s own energized saber springing to life as they charged forward to meet, each warrior eager to tear down the blasphemer before them. ”But corpse-gas burns eternal.”

As they closed the distance, hooves trampling the earth beneath them, blades held high, Okor’s abdomen exploded. A grotesque arrangement of tentacles and teeth made their presence known, reaching out to Embrace the Centaur. A plasma-borne blade scythed through the weaponized innards, burnt offerings falling to the mud beneath, but the hunger of the ancient abomination was undeniable. Tendrils wrapped around their limbs, a string of curses streaming out of the centauroid warrior’s robotic mouth as they swore bloody vengeance upon all those present. His ribs spread wide, gnashing at the synthetic flesh before him, Okor looked to his allies, one of his fists wrapped around his own guts, keeping the beast’s bonds tight.

A single word escaped his leprous lips, speaking through broken and bloody fangs. ”Kill.”

713 words, used 1 SP to heal 2 damage. 4/6 SP remaining.