@Wraithblade6@supertinyking"Well for one I'm going to go home and get some one to make me a new arm, one that actually matches my species and not something else after that well I guess I'll go find some peaceful ice cave and sleep for a century. Blarg's probably just gonna follow you, and help you get your staff back, the one you had when you first appeared in Tsubasa." Albert grabs his stump of an arm then looks at Eclipse,"What are you gonna do?"

@thewizardguy

Mithias flew at Valentus with merciless, unremittient attacks, immune to tiring. Although frequently driven back, each of his returns was an inevitability, much like time itself, relentless. The edges of his clothing singed and caught fire at times as they graced the peripheral of his pyrokinetic defenses into the surrounding inferno. Yet every strike he made failed, one after another, and every dodge and dash just barely cleared the radiant hammer of death as it found intricate paths toward its target.

How was this being so strong? The futility, the frustration of death unable to deliver began to demand Mithias' return to reason. It began to wake him up. It wasn't the power Valentus had, or his physical strength or speed, but his unshakable will in the face of total dispair that was turning the tide. The void could not devour him. He was weathering the storm with his faith.

Finally, a miscalculation caused Mithias to be too close to the daemonhammer as it crashed into the ground right beside him, casting a wave of force that blew the vampire's small frame across the street and into a concrete wall, which broke on impact. Rex opened fire, pelting the knight with bolts that were basically shrugged off. Mithias pushed his way out of the rubble with his one arm, hair over his face in such a way that only his fangs could be seen. His mouth had the expression of pain.

Despair and meaninglessness had undone his will, and the forces of chaos had seen fit to use this for their advantage, yet they had never intended that the vampire serve them forever. That, would have given Mithias a purpose, an antithesis to his transformation. He was meant only to be used and then discarded. Valentus had proven himself unkillable, at least to a mere pawn of Omega. Mithias was useless, wrecked. It was time for him to be abandoned and destroyed.

The titanium sword was still in his left hand as Mithias once again approached Valentus, then it unexpectedly clattered to the gound. The far half of the blade had been broken off. Mithias raised his head wearily, then dropped to his knees. He was too weak, barely able to hold off the heat that threatened to consume him most painfully into ash. He looked at Valentus, as if seeing him for the first time. He may or may not have been aware of what had happened, but he knew, he was going to die. This giant knight before him was glorious, a hero, a bastion of light against the darkness, and he simply could not be overcome. Like a defeated devil before an angel, Mithias prepared himself. Was there anyone who could save him now?

@Snarfulblast @Wraithblade6
@thewizardguy
"Wait, my staff is right here with m-....Fuck. Well, that's either going to come back to bite me in the ass in a major way, or, is going to be of some absurd help without me knowing.." Tiny says, before shrugging. However, he does walk over to Albert. "You're gonna look for another arm, eh? Well, I could make you a new one...but..if you want, I could make some..killer augmentations to it. Make it a cool arm weapon of sorts. Oh! I know! What about an arm..that...and listen to this....was able to shoot exploding smaller arms!"

Tiny was obviously a bit off, if one could not already tell. However, being this close to him, in a rather sunny place without distraction, Albert and Blarg could swear they saw something on the face of Tiny. A tattoo of sorts, just barely hidden by the hood of his robes. If one was daring enough, they could pull down his hood to get a better look.....But who knows how Tiny would react to such a thing?
---------
Mithias began to hear a voice, that of a man, speaking of a severed arm...of a missing staff, and other nonsense. This was of course a distraction before Mithias felt several needles enter his flesh, a searing pain unlike anything he's ever felt. Standing behind him, his dark robes flowing in the winds of chaos, Luigi Cruel stands, his robotic parts twitching slightly. "Not yet, you're not done yet..not until you've given everything to chaos..." Luigi says, grinning. Mithias could feel himself mutating rapidly, his will depleted..but now, his strength renewed with a power unlike anything he's had before. Muscle bulged, skin stretched, and torn. A immense power, one almost to great to contain was now coursing though Mithias...would he accept this new strength, or deny himself this power? He could feel deep down this strength would have a cost...but what would that cost be? I guess only a plunge down the rabbit hole would answer this question...

@supertinyking@Wraithblade6@Snarfulblast@thewizardguy

While angels battled with demons, got fucked over on both ends, and had some time to get their second wind, The group that had escaped the shit fest of flames and pyroclasms found themselves facing a greater but much more easilly dealt with threat: a horde of daemons standing at the edge of the bonfire of souls, watching and waiting for stragglers, the first soldier approaching them only to be cut down in an instant by Blood Hounds of khorne literally ripping him in half between two of them and running off with him as he let out gurgled screams of rapid death only for them to be cut short by the daemons descending upon their long awaited appetizer. The rest of the group, stopped fairly quickly as one of their comrades was swept away and destroyed utterly like it was nothing, causing an impasse that was rather heavilly favoring the demons the longer this wait was going on... up to the moment Stephen arrives and blasts the shit out of them, clearing a path to facilitate the utter nope that was being had that day, Bladed pistols being weilded with deadly percision, felling bloodletters and daemonettes alike as though they were hardly there yet still the horde came at the churning whirlwind of death and thus the pile grew, the lesser daemons making up bottom layer, spurred on by their greater and stronger counterparts while the Blue phantasms of tzeentch plotted in their incoherent babble, the warp rippling around them, changing them and causing them to seem more like humanoid husks of flesh the longer they were looked at as faces were donned, discarded, and redonned by another infinitely until finally one of them seems to come up with a plan, the lot of them charging and screaming as the warp ripples in response, a great bolt of destructive force striking the lone gunman and... doing jack shit, in fact it dissipates around him as though hitting a wall as he fires back, felling them as easilly as the rest. After the failures of the Tzeentch elites, A daemon prince of khorne letting out a warcry that would give an ork the shivers, urging his bloodthirster squad to charge. The hulking brutes due so willingly, their name having not been given lightly as they jockey for the chance to get at the mysterious figure that had just made a mockery of their turf, The first to reach him swinging with an underhand strike, causing the pile of corpses to go flying in bits as the gunman seems to be gone, the other bloodthirsters noticing too late that their brother was already missing one of his horns as one by one they fell, their wounds catching up to their rage and ending them along with their commanding daemon prince even when he does go to defend himself, Stephen being nimble enough to dodge such a stupidly large weapon with ease even when wielded by someone of the prince's size, allowing him the opening he needed to plant a ball bearing right in the neck of the prince's power armor, causing his head to fly off from the force of the rail pistols' dual shot meeting in the same weak spot. At this point, the Daemonettes of Slaanesh retreat, willing to fight and die for their overlord, not allow themselves to be massacred due to ineptitude, And nurgle's rot bringers are pretty much just sort of munching on the corpses contentedly so they don't seem all that intent on fighting currently when there was a meal to be had and meat to spoil, their eating process being more a process of using the bones to pop all their pustules at once and let the thick, paste-like pus seep into the meat, it visible going green and then a deep black within seconds from the sheer amount of bio hazards located within the plague bringers

@thewizardguy@Snarfulblast@supertinyking@Wraithblade6

"Fight all you want. As my enemies, I will show you no mercy..." With his voice ringing out, Michael creates two skeletal dragon hands, using the left one to send Mithias and Luigi flying while grabbing a hold of Rex with the right, the grip hard as steel. Of course, in order to perform this feat, Michael had to project himself from Valentus' shadow, the tactician now physically on the battlefield, his actual arm outstretched in Rex's direction, indicating the usage of his abilities. Surrounding his body is a draconic frame, the bones protecting him like armor against the flames. His red draconic eyes pierce through his foes, the time for games over for him.

@ShadowVentus@Wraithblade6@supertinyking@Snarfulblast
Several of the bolts of energy seem to be blocked by the field of energy surrounding the terminator. Those that come through seem to simply dissipate upon contact, striking the anti-magic field that guarded the Paladin's Aegis Armour. Valentus glares at Rex, and the necromantic horror finds his magic suddenly backfiring, knocking him backwards. The Inquisition had granted their military arm the power to withstand any arcane assault, and the Grey Knights were trained to deny the powers of those who would wield the Warp against them. The hood he wore within his armour even granted him the power to extend this protection to his allies, forming him into the pillar of divine might that he was, an arcane champion of order.

The vampire fell before him, his rage draining. The forces of Chaos raged against Mithias' mind, urging him on. But he had never been theirs, not truly, not permanently. For even as his anger drained, so did his will to fight. Their permission severed the Ruinous Powers were locked from his mind, their corrupting influence rendered powerless against him. It had been of his free will that he had accepted their power, and yet it was his free will that rejected it with equal ease. But such things would not gain him the mercy of the Grey Knight, who merely saw an enemy felled before him. To show weakness before the Angels of Death was to welcome their master. And as Mithias looked up with pleading eyes they met only the cold embrace of death, the powerful Daemonhammer already en route to his face. Perhaps in those last moments he accepted death, perhaps some part of him longed for life. Regardless, his wishes were soon swept aside.

Luigi seemed to tear him aside, the force of the blow blasting the ground to pieces under him. Five Chaos Marines opened fire on the tireless Paladin, and he was temporarily forced backwards. A hail of Bolter fire flowed around him, exploding rounds bursting against his armour or tearing into the buildings behind him. Luigi injected Mithias with a powerful mutagen, carrying the power of Nurgle within the warp-enhanced liquids. While Mithias' mind might be immune to the corrupting powers of the Warp, his body was as vulnerable as any other, and the energy surging through him twisted him into an abomination. The form a Daemon grew from him, twisted limbs, tentacles and arcane powers flowing through and from him. And yet he was, in some ways, unique. For even as the power of the Chaos Gods filled him, his mind retained it's own will, he remained himself, the forces of Chaos locked out of his consciousness.

Valentus roared, and the ground seemed to shake. He charged forward, Bolter rounds glancing off his armour as he ran. One of the Chaos Marines simply exploded, a fireball erupting from inside of him long before Valentus reached the squad. Another was struck down by a blast of flame that seemed to flow from the charging Paladin, slamming into him like a biting snake. They were mere corrupted warriors, facing one of the champions of justice. A true Angel of Death, a champion of the Emperor imbued with the greatest of his gifts. However, even as he reached the group, a single Bolter round seemed to tear through his armour, a chink flying off the nigh-indestructible suit of plasteel and ceramics. A single weak spot, through which one might strike the Space Marine within.

Then, of course, the Chaos Marines found themselves in melee with an angry paladin. And even as they whipped out their chainswords, whipped into a frenzy by their Dark Gods, they faced certain death. If anyone were to stop Valentus, it would be Luigi and Mithias. Or, perhaps, the vast army of Daemon marching on this world.

@Tyki
Stephen fights his way through entire squads of Daemons, his Null abilities weakening their bodies from his mere presence to them, their Warp-borne abilities worthless against him. The Daemon of Tzeench screeched with terror at the mere sight of him, and fled from the presence of the Null. The Daemon of Nurgle cast a hundred Warp-Born plagues upon him, all of which he weathered as the corrupting powers of the Chaos God were simply negated. His kicks and attacks were practically useless against them, but his dual railgun pistols tore through their weakened flesh with ease. The Daemon of Slaanesh and Khorne proved the most dangerous foe, their immense physical speed and strength allowing them to fight him on equal ground. A Bloodthirster laughingly threw a car in his direction, which he was forced to dodge. A Daemonette of Slaanesh dodged around his attacks, her screeches worthless against him. However through feats of incredible strength and speed he managed to best even these servants of Chaos, leaving only their dissipating corpses in his wake.

And yet, finally, he was faced by a being of unimaginable power. He was faced by the living instrument of the Chaos Gods in this worlds, a creature that made Greater Daemon shit themselves in fear, a Lord of Chaos who had ascended beyond the mortal form to represent a shard of Chaos itself. Immortal, Godlike, unstoppable. A Daemon Prince, masters of the Warp. Even as Stephen entered into it's presence he found his entire squad decimated, their bodies melting to nothing under the force of his gaze. He felt nothing, and yet he knew that his null powers would not protect him from the beast's eldritch strength, nor from the very physical Power Sword he held in his hand. Despite the weapon's immense size the creature wielded it with confidence and skill.

"A mere mortal believes himself worthy of facing the power of Chaos Undivided? My name is Shurath, Lord of the Black Legion. Allow me to show you a world of pain your foolish mind cannot even begin to comprehend." Stephen jumped in worldessly, attacking the Daemon Prince as he shot past the creature's massive weapon. He fired his weapons point blank into the creature's exposed face, and yet found them worthless, like throwing peas at a tank. He placed kicks and flips, and struck it with his blades, and yet he realized he faced a foe that made Valentus look like a marshmallow by comparison. He had chosen to confront a Daemon Prince, one of the most powerful beings in the entire 40K universe. The kind of creature that requires entire CHAPTERS of Space Marines to defeat, and simply re-emerges from the warp with every consequent death. This was a VERY bad idea.

@ShadowVentus@thewizardguyThe giant bone claws that had formed around Rex drop him as his entire body glows a deep purple, although the claws are shadow they are still things of death, they are still skeletal and Rex controls things of death.After getting dropped Rex moves away from Valentus, and continues to walk back to where he sent Anderson through his portal to the Chaos Realm, when he finds himself witnessing a one-sided fight between a Daemon Prince and a Null. Rex walks as close to the Prince as he deemed safe, about 90ft away, yelling to the Prince he asks,"Wanna kill a Grey Knight Paladin? We got one near here that's taken a pretty hefty beating. So if you want to kill him follow me or find him by yourself."

@thewizardguy

"You'd be amazed at the sort of things mortals can accomplish if they put their minds to it" stephen remarks with a small smirk, his seemingly small form compared to the daemon prince looking almost like a child before a god as, in many cases, this was exactly the situation this pairing would be experiencing. Yet stephen's confidence and smirk never seemed to waver even as the prince's sword comes withing milimeters of his body near constantly, there being a case of literal no room for error in this particular fight while the field of nothing began to crack and shift, almost like something where coming forth from a cocoon of some sort, stephen's guns having long since been put away once this engagement began. The prince begins to notice the cracks, his first attempt at making use of it resulting in his sword slowing by three miliseconds for a small period, which would normally not be noticable or even noteworthy, but at such a high level of skill and power being displayed and required for this fight, it was begining to send up red flags as his psyche was slipping the longer he attempted to try and break the cracks completely like trying to corrupt a black hole. Should he try and stop, he'd find his speed and strength returning almost imediately, the cracks in the null slowly growing on their own, but should he continue his attempts, he could feel more and more of himself slipping away to the nothingness, his speed and strength dropping by normally imeasurable amounts, but the cracks opening up faster, the null slipping away to the well of whatever creature lay beneath

Mithias screamed as Luigi grabbed him and injected some kind of hell into his weakened body. A large shadow claw swept them both off their feet and pushed Mithias away from the merciful strike of the paladin's hammer. The fighting continued. Valentus now had other problems to deal with. The world swirled in screaming, blackness, and blood just as it had only moments ago.

Left alone to deal with his tormentuous transformation, Mithias was submerged in blinding agony. In some alleyway, some gutter somewhere, his body writhed and grew violently, snapping bones and tearing flesh and forcing tissue to change against its own nature. He tried to fight it, but his mind could not save his body. He was suffering, greatly. Finally, after eternal moments that barely left the vampire able to remember where he was, Mithias emerged from the forgotten smoke-covered piles of burning rubble and cooling molten asphalt, and he was a different creature, something half vampire, half daemon.

He was huge and terrifying. He had long legs with clawed feet, blackened skin, a mane of black down his back, a single left arm with an extra forward-pointing spiderlike limb coming out of his back above it that was sharp like a lance at the tip. His head was a maw of sharklike teeth and glowing eyes, and out of his right shoulder, where is arm used to be, came 20 or so, long, writhing tendrils of blood, controlled by his will. He looked like some kind of dark Japanese god of evil.

The tentacles preceded him out of the ally as he came forth, back into the battle. Maw dripping with blood and saliva, he turned vengefully toward a handful of chaos marines and launched his tentacles at them from his right side. The fleshy snakes quickly wrapped themselves around the necks of the enemies and flung them around, bashing them into the buildings, ground, each other, and even tearing the heads off their shoulders, metal and all.

Pain drove him this time, unimaginable pain, as his vampire healing tried to combat chaos' abuse of his body. It was pain, anger, and the memory of a being so great that was able to hold onto hope despite impossible odds. The crushing darkness that had defeated the vampire's will and mind hadn't been able to touch him, and Mithias, although he himself had failed and did not have that level of strength, had witnessed it and admired it. It was a ray of light to him. He would help the paladin, and perhaps then he could receive a merciful release from his torture.

Having begun his war on the forces of chaos, Mithias was no more satisfied, then he saw Luigi. His eyes glowed brightly, lips curled back to reveal the razorshapr teeth, and the daemon-vampire beast charged. He wanted revenge.

@supertinyking

Eclipse appeared with the rest on the harmonious tropical island. The place was serene, beautiful, and joyous. It was like his home in heaven, a realm beyond materiality, and the essence of peace soothed him. But even such a wonderful getaway didn't remove the fact that many other places in the universe were filled with suffering, and Eclipse' heart weighed heavy at the fact that he had been forced to abandon an entire world of the forces of chaos and the Necrons. He could not be found guilty in acting to preserve his own life or those of others when no more lives could have been saved, but he couldn't be at peace. There was still more he must do.

After a few moments of facing the horizon in silent contemplation with a solemn look upon his face, the gleaming white angel turned to Tiny. "My magical friend. You have great power, and you have used that power to save the lives of these innocent beings and my life as well. We all owe you a great debt..." Tiny just knew his contentment was about to be interrupted by whatever the hell the angel-god said next. One can never enjoy a good drink with a super-holy, righteous, self-sacrificing demigod of justice around. Of course Eclipse continued as predicted, "...Please forgive me, as I must impose on you further. The beings on the world we've left behind are doomed without aid. The armies of chaos threaten to swallow each and every world in their reach until all existence belongs to them. There is only one force that can stop them, and I need you to help me reach them."

@Wraithblade6@Tyki@thewizardguy@Snarfulblast

Tiny sighs, thinking upon the fate of those of the world of Tsubasa. ".........." For a moment, Tiny thinks, him going into the deepest recesses of his mind, to ask himself some hard questions. Normally he'd refuse such an offer, but, he didn't want to. He didn't want to be evil..just...a target. Would he damn so many people, to spite someone? Was he willing to do this, an act to end millions of lives, just to further a goal...Would it make him a monster?
"....Am I a monster?"
"No, you're not a monster to me. Am I a monster to you?"
"...no..."

".............I'll send you to where you need to go...but I have another world I must save....." Tiny says, as blue energy crackles over him. Blue lighting, it seems like, as he prepares some sort of power. It takes him roughly a minute before he slams his hands into the ground, the sand bunching up into a form. An creature rises from the sand, a large troll like being with a portal in its stomach. "That portal will take you where you need to go, Eclipse....As for you two, Albert, and Blarg....If I'm not back in five minutes..well, I'm dead." Tiny says, with a smirk, before vanishing...

--------------------------
Now torn between two foes, the Tech Marines of chaos quickly are felled, and Luigi is left alone. Panic and fear, for a moment, seize the heart of Luigi...But it'd take more than this to shake his faith in chaos. "You two can't stop me now! This world is doomed, and so are you...Accept your deaths, and maybe I'll give you a merciful fate! I'll drive your souls mad, and put them into machines..a fate of prolonged existence, that is..until you're destroyed..." Luigi says, his sadistic side showing. However, soon, @ShadowVentus Micheal feels the staff fly from his impressive grip, some force pulling it away from him. If he doesn't let go, he risks being pulled from the shadows back into the red light of chaos.....Either way, the staff, flying like a bullet with, or without a Micheal attachment, flies into Luigi's stomach, impaling the heretek like a spear though a fish.
"Gra! Wh-what the hell..was....that?" Luigi asks, clutching his stomach, as he staggers backwards. Behind him, a red hooded figure stands, or, so one would think. It seems when in the presence of red light, Tiny's robes turn a bright blue. Tiny grins. "...Oh come now, I didn't do to much damage..not like you, who's caused the warp storm to form here...." Tiny says, his voice slowly showing anger. "..I've done some horrible things..but nothing like this...You....fiend...."
"Hehehehe...another...doomed fool..chaos cannot be de-" Luigi begins, before the staff is ripped out of him, blood splatter covering Tiny, and Mithias. Luigi was not dead, but merely severed in two, a grizzly destructive fate. Luigi gasps and heaves, unable to breath well. Tiny turns towards the chaos spawn Mithias, and the tank Valentus.
"....Space Marine, leave this chaos spawn to do as it wishes. I'll return in a moment...I have a deamon prince to kill...." Tiny says, turning around, and walking away, those mere words most likely striking Valentus like a mac truck. Tiny moved with a will, a meaning to his steps, almost blurring as he moves. Soon, where a battle was forming between Stephen the Host, and a prince of chaos, two forces of destructive power about to truly unleash hell as they collide. Tiny knew damn well he couldn't let that happen. He could feel the energy from the two where he was...he knew they may end up rending the very world asunder. Once again, Tiny channeled his magics, blue lighting crackling over him once again, most likely attracting the attention of whatever evil beings where near by, for he reeked of a foe resisting the powers of chaos....

-----------
Also, pretty much everyone from the dominion on this planet is either dead, or at the bunker in the core of the planet defending it from the deamons..so...yea.....

@thewizardguy@Wraithblade6@supertinyking@Snarfulblast

Feeling a strong force act upon the staff on his back, Michael releases it, having the skeletal hand shift into a sharp bone sword, imprinting it with the same explosive runes that are on his default silver sword. He smirks as Luigi suffers the consequence of standing in the way of the weapon, it piercing through him as it returns to whom the tactician can only guess to be the owner of the staff. He takes this tranquil moment to alter his form, the bone frame around him shifting about with a few cracks and pops as it fits to his body like a suit of armor, his hood removed only to be replaced with a skeletal helm, his identity continuing to be hidden from all. The bones blacken with his the effects of his magic, making him out to be like the fabled Black Knight of legend. He smirks, feeling more confident about the battles to come after bearing witness to such a heated fight. "Things are starting to get interesting..." He says to himself, now regrouping with Valentus.

Mithias does some pretty nasty things to Luigi which assuredly result in his death.

@Wraithblade6@ShadowVentus@supertinyking
The forces of Chaos lay felled at his feat, but a single remained. He stepped over the corpses of the fallen, as he approached the Chaos Spawn that Mithias had become. Hammer in hand he faced this being, and yet the creature showed no signs of fighting back. He stood before it, and he could feel the foul aura of the Ruinous Forces emanating from it. He raised a hand, the power of flame at his fingertips. His duty was done here, his foes had been slain, and yet despite his vigilance this world lay dead. Anger built in, and Mithias could feel a flame build inside him. Literally. Light began to emanate from the hybrid's eyes and mouth, as it began to rapidly heat up. It would be purged, cleansed, erased from this world. A fallen Chaos Lord, reduced to nothing but an animal. The words of those such as Tiny were meaningless, all who would associate with Chaos must be eliminated.

And yet, for a moment, the Paladin hesitated. For the creature before him did not writhe in agony. The creature before him did not charge him, tentacles and claws reaching for his neck. It did not screech, or rage, or rave or beg. It simply sat, staring at him with those twisted eyes. It closed it's eyes, even as the fires built. And Valentus recognized the expression on it's face, hidden behind the mask of an abomination. He recognized one who accepted death.

A single moment of silence stretched, as the expected death did not come, and flames dwindled to sparks.

Then, Valentus shot forward. The hammer clattered to the ground as a massive armoured fist closed around Mithias' face. He could feel the power behind them, the incredible strength of this paladin. And as he spoke, he could feel this creature shiver. Valentus couldn't tell with certainty if he was right, if the creature he held had truly retained it's consciousness. Furthermore, he honestly had no clue what he was doing. Nobody had tried anything like this since the end of the Great Crusade. Perhaps he would be left with nothing more than a slight coating of ash. But he was not prepared to let this world die, in it's entirety. To give up all to Chaos, to allow the Ruinous Powers to truly win. He would save a single thing, even if it was just a single fool, a single heretic shown the light of the Emperor, a single fool dragged kicking and screaming into the light. A single victory to stave off a billion losses. Even if it killed him, he would not allow this world to die in it's entirety.

Sound came from Valentus' mouth. It was a word, but that was all Mithias was able to tell. For even as he spoke it, his entire body twisted and writhed in agony. Several nearby Daemon simply collapsed, their souls returning to the Warp even as this word of power was spoken. One of the 666 Words of Banishment, a word of such truth, such order, such justice, that it shattered the forces of Chaos. It was the true glory of the Empire, solidified in a single phrase. And Mithias could feel his new body burn under it's pressure, as his ear canals were ripped to shreds. It was beautiful, ecstatic agony. Burning in a sea of absolute law, the fairest light and gentlest touch ripping the skin from his body.

A second word followed, and it was greater yet than the first. His body rejected it, even as his mind attempted to comprehend it. And he could feel the forces of Chaos being ripped from his body. The Daemonic spirits that had attempted to possess him banished with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. His organs were on fire, his limbs twisting into inhuman forms. The creatures of Chaos writhed within him, their agony reflected onto him. And as they were torn from him, his very body seemed to collapse. A state that could not be described in words, as salvation was beaten into him with a glowing poker.

The rest of the chant settled into a strange monotony of pain and relief. A feeling of renewal, of painful rebirth. For even as his mind reveled in the freedom, his body was forcibly rebuilt. Even as the Daemon were banished his vampiric genes once more took control, putting him back together. To those looking on, it would seem a stream of darkness was shooting from the creature, even as it's burning form destroyed and rebuilt itself a hundred times. And every form was a little closer, a little purer, a little more orderly. And even as Mithias was purified, so was the world around him. The very Warp Storm recoiling from these terms, from this chant of order, from the bastion of pure, unstoppable purity that had formed within it. The Daemon of the Warp were cast back into the depths of Hell, the mutants burned away as their souls were laid to rest. The very ground seemed to shift, grass growing greener, the air becoming cleaner, the buildings seeming straighter. This was the closest one could get to witnessing the glory of the God Emperor.

.....

Slowly, Valentus released his grip. Mithias dropped to the ground, his body made of pain, his mind reeling. Valentus stared down at his work, and he saw the form of a human. A creature purified of the influence of Chaos, a being saved from the grip of the Dark Gods. He saw his one victory, in the face of a billion losses. His one success. And yet a sliver of doubt still teased the back of his mind. Had he done the right thing, had his actions truly made a difference? He had returned Mithias' free will, but what guarantee was there that the fool would not simply return to the path of Darkness? Had he simply given a rising Chaos Lord a second chance?

Smiling, Valentus banished these doubts. For as he looked up, he saw a break in the storm. The clear sky, stars burning in the endless void, surrounded on every side by the raging Warp. A single spot of purity, of infinite beauty. The universe he had fought to protect, laid out before his eyes. And the sight simply made him smile, as he slowly raised his hammer to the sky. He stood there, surrounded by the forces of Chaos, a foolish grin on his face. He'd done it. He had chanted all 666 Words of Banishment. The holy words his order had spent thousands of years writing down, the ever-changing terms of pure order and justice. He had ripped them directly from the warp, and he had branded them into his mind. He had only one explanation for this. For as he felt his body go numb, he knew he had done the Emperor's will. And as his eyes closed, he could feel the Emperor welcoming him.

Blood dripped from the helmet of the Terminator Armour. The Paladin did not move, Daemonhammer pointing up, at the single clear patch of sky. When, one last time, his robotic voice spoke from the depths of his armour, casting his final words upon the winds of a doomed world, upon the ears of those around him. "Top that, motherf*cker."

With that, the Space Marine died. His body entombed within his armour, forever standing, weapon pointed at the sky even as the Warp slowly reclaimed the patch of purity he had created.

@TheWizardGuy@WraithBlade6
@SnarfulBlast@supertinyking@shadowventus

If any of the combatants would look to the north ,the would see something very peculiar ; a pair of cracked glasses floating around at head level ,the glasses would then be accompanied by rough ,ragged, long hair and a similar grey beard ,they would then see clothes fading in ,a grey ,ripped shirt under a ripped felt jacket .

The clothes would then be completed by the addition of a wrinkled and old face and body wearing them .The old man faded in ,holding his ebony and gold cane.He faded in like the Cheshire Cat ,and any attack aimed at him while fading in would be naught ,as it would be like attacking sunshine.The figure fixed his glasses ,he watched the fight from a distance ,but still close enough to see and hear everything that was going on.

Jekyll would chuckle at the fight ."Three dimensional figures and their fickle arguments" he laughed."But with the recent storms ,I wouldn't keep these people out of the Major Leagues "He points out to himself,but he would still chuckle ,the fight amused him ,possibly enough for him to join.

@Snarfulblast@Tyki@Teoinsanity@ShadowVentus@supertinyking@Wraithblade6
The Daemon Prince simply ignored the supposed cracks opening in the anti-psyker's aura. They were of no consequence, he would tear this creature to pieces with sheer brute force. He would annihilate it in the name of Chaos Undivided. A simply trophy to hang on his walls, a stolen soul to parade before the Dark Powers. This creature was no more than a minor annoyance, a being whom's very existence was a denial of the one, absolute truth. The truth that in the end, all was consumed by the power of Chaos.

With every casual swing of his blade, the Daemon Prince caused a small hurricane, the power of his swing tearing houses in half and opening chasms in the ground without ever touching them. As Stephen was forced back, unable to inflict any harm and inches from death with every swing of the immense Power Sword, the Daemon Prince gained more and more ground. Laughing, the creature gestured at Stephen, as a dozen cars shot at him from the street. Telkinetically hurled vehicles smashed into him, or where he had been. Despite having been thrown by psychic power, the cars themselves posed a far more physical threat to the Blank. The Daemon Prince found the entire ordeal to be a diversion, a small sidestep as he prepared to sacrifice this world to his Chaos Gods.

"Wanna kill a Grey Knight Paladin? We got one near here that's taken a pretty hefty beating. So if you want to kill him follow me or find him by yourself."

The creature looked up, and sure enough, it could sense the presence of a Grey Knight. The most foolish of his former battle brothers, who dedicated their worthless lives to the defeat of Chaos above all other threats. He grinned, knowing he had found more worthy prey. "It looks like playtime is over, mortal. I'll end this quickly." The Daemon Lord gestured, and the ground trembled. The houses around Stephen shook, and he knew already that he would be crushed between the buildings. It was unavoidable, really. The Daemon Prince was nigh unbeatable in melee, and even with a purely defensive stance he'd barely been able to survive. The inevitable conclusion of such a battle loomed before him, as the ground rose up to trap him, the cars and houses flying towards his position with intent of crushing him to pulp.

It then that a timely intervention presented itself. A strange sound echoed through the city, and the Daemon Lord seemed to be forced back a step, as if by some kind of impact. The houses slowed, now rolling over the ground rather than shooting towards him, as the entire death-grip devolved into a loosely thrown bunch of debris. A second word sounded, and the Daemon Prince roared. But it was only once the words became a continuous chant that their effects could truly been seen. Every word was greater than the last, and had greater effect. The Daemon's body began to shake, as lines and runes appeared on it as if burned into it's flesh. It dropped down, roaring, as word after word battered the essence of it's being. Seeking not to destroy it, but to do the very next best thing. To banish his consciousness to the very depths of the warp, from which he could not return in the coming ten thousand years. And each word struck like a hammer blow, bashing the great Prince to the ground, shattering his power and burning his skin.

Lesser Daemon were banished within moments, Greater Daemon banished after enduring many words. But the Daemon Prince stood to face it all, enduring the torment, enduring the agony. However, even if the Words of Banishment would not defeat the Daemon Prince, Stephen found himself free to do as he wished. His weapons would be no more effective than they were moments ago, but the Daemon Prince lay weakened. His form disturbed, his power drained, and his mind beaten into submission by the Words of Banishment. If Stephen had anything in his pocket, this might be his one and only chance of defeating the Daemon Prince.

@thewizardguy @Tyki @ShadowVentus @Wraithblade6 @Teoinsanity @Snarfulblast
".......Hehehehehe...Somebody...stop..me!" Tiny roars, his powers finally channeled with no one to really stop him, a pillar of blue light shoots into the air, beacon to ALL there. This power would bring a head ache to Rex, his undead form feeling assaulted by the surge of life energy. IT would be like someone was taking a hammer to his skull. No serious damage, but quite painful. Quite obviously, he'd want to go mess with Tiny, as Tiny is causing him quite a great amount of pain.
To Valentus, as his eyes began to flutter shut, a power to defy chaos would be felt. But, he'd not know this power before his life drips from his grasp...but this would not be the end for him, quite yet. At least, not totally, within this story...more on him, later.
Micheal could see this great blue light, and feel a tingle in the air, much like that of what he felt with the staff. A power that could mend wounds, heal sicknesses. Many times he'd had the touch of healing magic mend wounds he had out on the battle field..but never so strong they did this! Such a powerful mage may be a great ally in this coming darkness. Micheal need only look into the sky to see where this mystery man was. Would he venture forth to find this man? Or would he flee in what appears a moment of peace?
Mithias, laid resting, and alive by the powers of Valentus. Pain ached though him, and his mind was still recovering from the powers forced into it..but he could still feel something about to happen. A great event, the tension was even in the air! A crackling power, a great light! All such nonsense, such confusion. Hasn't enough happened to him today? Well, that's for him to decide, isn't it?
Now, for Stephen/Shaco, things would be different depending on who was in control. Should the boy Stephen be in control, what would feel to be a calming embrace of some sort wash over him, for he was far closer to Tiny than anyone else. This feeling would remove the ache in his muscles, the strain in his tendons. All his physical woes would wash away, under the tide of this power. The blue light emanating from Tiny would be almost blinding, yet not harm his eyes to gaze upon. A pillar of blue flame? No, blue energy? Maybe. He'd not be able to tell with ease....But...if Shaco was in control, it'd be a burning agony. As if someone set him ablaze with a mystic fire, one that didn't burn away the nerves, only tortured them with further pain. The culprit? Tiny, of course. For his healing powers were healing Stephen..and in turn, trying to remove Shaco. A parasite with benefits he may be, but a parasite all the same. It was not a symbiotic relationship in total truth..far from it, at least to Tiny's powers. The mystical materials making up Shaco would begin to give way to muscle and tissues, bones and veins. It would be a kind of pain that came along with the possibility of one's death. A mental pain, one screaming for him to save himself. To him, to gaze into the blue inferno that was Tiny would be like sticking hot pokers into your eyes......
As for our forth dimensional friend..he'd feel nothing more than a chill breeze. Odd. This man seems to have lit himself on blue fire? No, that's just energy acting strangely. Odd. Well, he's free to do as he wishes. Of course, what that means..I have no effing idea.
Now, would someone step forwards now that the deamon where gone to assist or stop Tiny? His power seems nearly enacted. Should he not be stopped soon, who knows what may happen?

@supertinyking"Stupid fucking red cloaked sum a bitch!!!!" Rex rushes forward and tackles Tiny as best he could,"WHY MUST YOU INTERRUPT MY FIGHT??!?!?!?" Rex begins to pummel Tiny with his armored fists."STOP WITH YOUR FUCKING MAGIC!!!" Punch after punch slam into Tiny."GOD DAMIT STOP ALREADY!"

@Snarfulblast
Tiny is knocked to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth as no doubt Rex's strikes break ribs, and puncture his lungs, as he grins. "Hehehehehe..that...all...you got....?" He asks, smiling only for Rex to most likely punch him in the mouth, not doubt breaking his jaw, and all of his teeth. Or, he just keeps punching him all over. Whatever he does, Rex sees that the massive amount of power Tiny's channeling isn't being diverted to healing himself. He's focusing on doing whatever he is intending on doing, but it soon seems that Rex's assault does it's job, the light fading from Tiny, as he lies still. No witty remarks, no back talk. Just what seems to be a corpse, but Rex knows better..Tiny's still alive.....but that massive amount of energy has seemingly vanished. Slowly, he closes a fist, and with in, a glow forms. "....Tell me......You..the person who'd....destroy so much....Did you ever care..about someone else?" Tiny asks Rex, before coughing up more blood. Tiny was beaten, bloodied..but not yet broken. That small glow in his enclosed fist, glows brighter, and brighter. "Cared..enough..that everything else lost meaning..when you lost them? Well...I have...nothing matters to me anymore....So...now..here.....with most of my everything broken..and a pain..that I haven't felt in a while....I say...fuck you.....and fuck...this....daemonic..storm..shit..." Tiny says, as he manages to throw a small orb of glowing light, far into the distance. Or, he tries to. Rex could try to grab it, but it being the same energy that seemed to cause him pain, this may be a bad idea.