The Story of…THE MOTHERSHIP AND THE DEMON
Dateline: Late 2120
“They see you as a helpless, hopeless savage. A deadly monster whose existence hardly holds the value of the ammunition it would take to destroy it. But they’re mistaken, as they most often are. I, the eldest and some say wisest of the Ancient lifestream, recognize your worth. And now, with our victory in this Dimensional Tournament, perhaps the mass opinion on your experimental usage will be swayed. Perhaps…”
A soft green light glowed to life from inside Nicodemus’ helmet as he shook his head. “But I fear not.”Nicodemus took a step back from the slumbering creature of Primus. The massive heaps of muscle that made up the body of Hybrid rose and fell as it breathed heavily in its sleep. Its Ravager brain was far down in a deep sea of sleep, unimaginable alien images of dark Ancient secrets constructing its dreamscape.
The Commander of the Mothership turned his attention to Warfare and Tekaro. The two Humanoid warriors lounged around brazenly. Tekaro was devouring hunks of meat from a large leg of some sort of Centran mutton in barbaric fashion while the masked silent giant meticulously polished his newfound weapons. Warfare had recently purchased and taken a keen interest (perhaps due to his partner’s obsession with violent instruments) in a pair of ball-point Ancient warhammers. NuBorn Destruction’s tag team titles of Essence were encased in a highly secure exhibit mounted into the wall of the Command Deck behind the duo. Their sequences of soft pulses were opposite of the neon bright circuitry that lined the wall around their exhibit.
“And to the Tag Team champions of the aCe I say congratulations and offer my gratitude for your services.” Warfare looked up briefly at the Ancient before returning to his trance like state of polishing his warhammers while Tekaro smiled and raised his leg of mutton towards Nicodemus in acknowledgement.
Nicodemus turned towards the front of the Mothership; hands clasped behind his back and looked out into the cosmos. He continued to speak to his troops as he surveyed the other three heavenly bodies that made up the four cornerstones of the Centra Dimension. A burst of swirling smoke shot up inside the Ancient’s helmet. His voice switched into a deeper tone, it was projected and echoey. “None of you are of my heritage, but all of you are nearly perfect specimens in your own right. I’m proud of this faction. And I’m comfortable in the direction we are heading. But I also say be prepared! In the upcoming year of 2121 there will be no room for error. The Battle for this Dimension will culminate into a scenario I dare not predict now. But let it be stated before you…it will be cataclysmic.”
~~ Meanwhile… ~~
The blonde man wore a deep crimson robe. He sat by candlelight in one of his many private chambers amongst the Ruins of Antilia. The demon Godsend was reading an old fashioned letter. It was handwritten in ink that stained the parchment with a dark copperish brown. It was certainly dried blood.
My Lord,
Being confined in this cesspool, surrounded by lunatics has become quite a nuisance, but oh the wonderful nightmares I’ve had while behind these padded walls!
My ink is hard to come by, so I must save most details for when we finally meet.
You must know that your following within these institutional walls grows stronger by the day!
There are many, many others. Men that have been committed and condemned by society who worship you, my Lord!And as I have vowed to do so, I will secure them. I will educate them. I will guide them towards the path that you walk!And so it is known, with a large enough cult our unified prayers and ceremonies may re-open the portals! And when those fiery gates are torn down, the rest of your forces can join the Battle for Centra! The end is nigh, my Lord! The end is nigh!”
–D.Grimcraft
Godsend smirked. A puff of red flame shot up his hand, and danced wickedly down his finger tips, hungrily gobbling the letter in an instant.
