When the quake struck like a surprise shake weight, the roaring racket was several degrees brasher than the thunderous fart of a shapeshifting rape god (you mad, Zeus?). The plate-shifting cry was at such an intensity that the deep of Zolas Might quivered like a heavy dollhouse, but not a thing tossed off its place down here where Falinaar stood, a posh doll in a shook-up house praising a giant, leathery egg as if it was his grand lord and savior.
The time had come. For so long had it been dormant beneath the glory of Zolas' spire. A seed pressed to sprout among the earth and root itself across the land. If Caellania and all else did not see eye to eye with him, then Falinaar, free of the hindering decree of Tahlis, will make them see.
He will force them to bend that rebellious knee, even if it meant their utter demise.
Even if it meant inventing another one of those profound speeches while loitering in the center of chaos itself.
"There can be no rejection to that which must arise among those that shall sink. For generations, this world has been stunted under the shadow of a pact too trivial to bring true governance amongst its royal sphere. Diverged are the lands, united. DIVIDED! Vekta was not made to be yielded by repetitious hands. It was conceived to serve one domain. One authority. Indivisible. Almighty and UNCHALLENGED! The era of Tahlis ENDS HERE! CAELLANIA WILL KNEEL! The world will heel to a NEW order. May resistance know no mercy..."
His voice drowned and crumbled in a snap. His throat plundered like a surprise blowjob. An ungodly, croak-tastic hymn emerged; contorting his voice as it was no longer his own.
"CEASE BE THE VOID SHALL SHATTER WHICH IT LIE! AEONS' DEMISE THE STARS WILL CRY!"
The obscene, gothic call evolved from his robed vessel, but the hideous truth behind his unnatural tongue exuded from the splitting egg. From its ripped peak, it unraveled, four slices flaying back like a pulpy flesh blossom, unleashing a tentacular fray of sloppy shafts lined with toothy suction cups and one BIG, veiny, girthy phallic shaft-bulbous-crowned with four swollen pouches dangling beneath its gilled cap-mounting above the rest!
Its expanding shadow was the last thing to be relished by Falinaar. No. Even better! The largest of its toothy suction cups was the last thing his awe-struck ass would ever see.
"Lord... Phallos...!"
SLAM!
|★|
The dreary skies above Aol'Metrelis continued to roar.
Darting vessels shooting streaks of light and a disordered symphony of explosions dotted the sky. War came as fast as those who had preached it, and those who thwarted against it, those who wanted no part in the squabbles of the late imperator's political party, were now fleeing for their lives. Those imperial skyscrapers fell like false gods, towering magnificence busted to rubble, falling like mountains of unstable kiddy blocks and crushing those too unfortunate to scatter like screeching mice.
The Mechanova made its hasty return after shirking Loralai's warship and was instantly pummeled with charger fire. The Aolguard's skyfleet an organized swarm, their formations tight and their will to shatter Mechanova's defenses failed to wane as their mini laser cannons were like water guns to a hot import sports vehicle-energy splashing off the dragonship's shields.
"I gotta be honest here. I actually feel a lot better eating the nicks than taking the shit that blasted spider ship was tearing into us with," Wickels said refreshingly as Mechanova's shields returned to their impregnable status. He and Baartimo pressed the dragonship forwards through the barrage of Aol ballistic fire and were creeping up on Zolas Might's tower of power. Onward to take down Falinaar.
YOU ARE READING
The|MULTIVERSE
FantasyWARNING! This novel is an unconventional work of fiction. Anything you may read in the following episodes is solely created out of sheer satirical coincidence and is NOT to be taken out of ANY context OTHER than it being RIDICULOUSLY entertaining as...
