Advent of Chaos

3

The bullets were fairly easy to dodge, as he slid across the dusty floor--a cloud of red haze spraying behind him-- to unload another clip into the same Centurion.

It groaned, only staggering back a bit before it was charging-- its brother Centurion following suit with a gun full of ammunition. Uriel presumed the leading one had ran out, as it attempted to slam against the cover he'd taken. The metal shook, almost whining in agony like the Centurion did when Uriel drove the butt of his scout rifle into the throat of the soldier. It staggered back, choking on a pool of its own blood as it flooded its shaking body.

The last Centurion charged without so much as a roar, heavy plated steel crashing into the worn down metal walls. The thud echoed throughout the antechamber, and Ss'll Sh'Karr bellowed something in the Cabal language, something horrid and warped beneath his horned helmet making him sound more monstrous than he already appeared. Uriel ignored him for the time being, unsheathing from his back a large iron greatsword-- the metal near the hilt scorching with heat as it illuminated the symbol of the Iron Lords. Uriel didn't waste time as he stalked over to the recovering Centurion, driving his blade directly into the chest of the soldier. For a moment, it thrashed and roared, using the last of its bullets to unload into Uriel's shoulder as it was being lifted. The Hunter only bit his lip beneath his helmet, growling angrily against the biting pain that threatened his composure.

Uriel at last felt the blood cascade down his arm through his thick white armor piece, tearing his greatsword from the body of the dead Centurion, and flashing the last Cabal standing a determined look. The Lieutenant--Sh'Karr-- only lifted his great steel sword above his head, roaring something terrifying and sickening. Uriel didn't bother translating it--didn't care, actually-- as the heavy steel armor of the approaching enemy clinked together. He only ran through his head over and over again-- his improvised plans.

Sh'Karr got close-- extremely close-- and attempted to slam the butt of his gun into Uriel's shoulder. He almost did, but out of the darkness of the corner he'd been in-- a tear in reality opened up. It began sucking everything from the outside world in, red dust gushing through the wound like blood. All Uriel could do was blink across the room to grab ahold of a worn down metal bar. He kept his eyes on his enemy as he attempted to follow, the rockets attached to his back starting up-- a futile attempt to escape the vacuum. Confusion and anger spun through him, and he gripped on tighter, his body practically floating over the floor of the antechamber. Uriel tore his eyes away from Sh'Karr, no longer caring about his target as he was devoured by the tear in reality. He cared only for his own survival in these moments-- when the Dust Palace was shaking angrily and the world around him was being devoured as well. He felt the metal bar he'd been holding onto suddenly go loose-- as if being attached to these metal walls wouldn't be enough to stop the vacuum from consuming it.

It stole his voice as he tried to call out to his ghost, and stole his sense of reality-- as if it were from another plane of existence entirely. He knew the dead bodies of Legionaries and Centurions were being eaten by the insatiable void, but also knew that this tear was not a void. It even tore the blood from the ground and walls and stole their life essence, too, and the ground itself-- the heavy metal plates-- were being torn from the palace, too. He had to get out-- had to somehow escape this, but there were no visible solutions to this.

But suddenly, as Uriel risked another glance back at the wound-- a creature jumped out, clinging to the dust like a fool. But it somehow stood, the wind not disturbing its heavy steps. Two more emerged-- each with a set of large, leathery, spiked wings. Their abyssal black skin flickered in response to Uriel's eyes-- almost as if they could sense it. Though, they looked strangely human.... Uriel scanned each one, despite knowing they could feel his eyes. The first to emerge had the most decay along its leathery chest-- and their bodies were gargantuan.

"By the traveler." Uriel whispered, his hands loosening the grip he had on the metal bar. He only now realized that the vacuum had stopped, and the tear was merely a portal now. His body had been so numb from the lack of movement-- the lack of life in him-- that he didn't feel the shift in his body as--

Blue particles manifested along his helmet, and in a flash, he was gone, elsewhere. Uriel found himself in the cool interior of a white and black ship, his weapons no longer on standby. There was a whisper-- a female voice-- and a robotic confirmation, "Yes, he's here." A guardian, then. He was safe. He was safe, and not fighting for his life-- not struggling to grasp the concept of reality. He was safe, he told himself over and over again. But those creatures, what were they..?