The Grey Chronicles Part Two: Under Siege.

Chapter 30: Berserker.

Intersection of 31st and Marshall, capital city of Machinae One, August of 8096 AL.

Briarios did not appreciate having a building dropped on his head. That aside, it was not the worst thing his sister had ever done to him. Dust billowed around him as he recovered, looking around curiously. He was pinned under a girder inside an elevator shaft, surrounded by debris; the apartment building was laying down the center of Marshall street, the elevator shaft stretched out in front of him. A square of light was visible at the end of the tunnel, his flames had sputtered out, and he had regained a small amount of control. Briarios could still feel the Shepherd, like a snake slithering under his skin. It was stunned, but it recovered quickly and fought for control. He tried to fight it, he tried to stay in command, but he couldn't. He heard screaming, grunts, and a guttural tongue coming from the end of the elevator shaft. Nephilim. He heard Nephilim.

The Shepherd heard food. He was hungry.

Fire roared to life around him and the Shepherd roared along with them. The girder melted, dripping molten steel onto the floor. He strained against the debris, throwing himself against it over and over again until it broke and he fell forward. He stumbled, both physically and mentally; the Shepherd took the reins, he regained control and sprinted towards the end of the shaft on all fours. His hands scrambled over the floor, pulling himself closer to that square of light, closer to lunch. The flames grew, swelling to fill the elevator shaft around him until it was close to bursting. The walls of the shaft glowed red, and melted under the extreme temperatures, releasing the built-up pressure in a blast that tore through the fallen building. It shattered the windows, throwing glass hundreds of feet into the air in a series of explosions along the length of the building.

The Nephilim stopped, stunned by the sudden turn of events; they had watched the building drop on top of the monster and prayed it was dead. A shield wall stood at the end of the street, several hundred soldiers shook in their boots as they backed up towards the armory, only one block farther and they'd have somewhere to hide. One more block and they'd be safe.

Or so they thought.

The roof of the apartment building exploded, and the roaring monster dashed from the wreckage. He howled as he saw the shield wall, and the steady retreat turned into a mad rush to escape the Shepherd, with tendrils of flame lashing around him as he sprinted towards his victims. They ran as fast as they could, but they never really stood a chance. He caught up to them before they were halfway to the armory, and they cried for help as a tongue of flame whipped through their ranks. A dozen fell, their backs blistered and their skin melted to the bone. His claws tore through one man while the tendrils plucked others from the horde.

Nephilim streamed from the armory in a vain attempt to help, to save their companions that fought so desperately to get inside. Briarios grinned at the sight of them; cattle walking into the slaughterhouse.

He leaped forwards into the oncoming horde, his claws scything this way and that. Weapons broke and melted against his skin, while his hands punched through the thickest armor with little effort. His boots sank into the concrete that bubbled beneath his feet, every step left an inch-deep footprint. He hardly noticed, he was too busy enjoying himself; enjoying the way they tasted, the way their blistered flesh felt between his fingers as it crumbled to dust. He enjoyed it far too much.

It did not take long for this new wave of Nephilim to flee as their companions had. They flooded back to the armory, into a pair of double doors on the side of the single-story warehouse. The armory extended underground, nine floors of warehouse space storing high explosives and hydrogen fuel cells for various vehicles. Millions upon millions of individual cartridges filled the stacked crates on every floor, and forklifts sat in each corner to move the crates. A small staff performed maintenance duties and kept careful track of the thousands of Infinities and Kapa-94's kept in the upper floors. More recently they had renovated, displacing the hydrogen fuel cells to the first floor.