@thewizardguy @Wraithblade6 @Gentlemanvaultboy

"......" Ozo snaps back to his base form, his eyes widening. He then sees the necromancer appears, and things were just moving far to fast for him. ".....I have no idea what is happenin...but I respectfully decline your offer to join you, and I must say I dislike your methods of co-" Ozo begins, before booking it towards the necromancer who had just gotten there. "My good sir I thank you for this distraction but I must relocate to best help against this foe!" He declares, before thinking. "And if you need to relocate, I can move you wherever you need to go!" He adds, while shooting sawblades at the giant mech, trying to do..something, using charged shots in an attempt at slashing though the armored suit that was Enki.

Vulga Remmington

Location: Winnipeg, Canada, Arcadia

Vulga was floating high up in the air, far above the city which would be the stage for a great battle. He was observing from a safe distance this strange mechanical giant and a host of strange individuals around it. He was mostly there to supervise the status of his newest agent, Damien, who had struck the first blow against the metal beast. He did this not with any sort of care for his well-being, only to see if Damien could prove himself in combat and survive to do his bidding. At the end of the day, this young sorcerer, like most others, were only pawns in Vulga's sick game of manipulation and treachery, and if need be, disposable ones.

He would not be spotted, however, using his illusion magic to make him undetectable by almost any form of technological or living sensors, including infrared, and cast the screen spell to make him invisible to any form of magical or psychic scrying, allowing him to observe from a distance without fear of being detected, though he is staying alert mode, ready to dodge any sort of stray projectile and stay out of the crossfire.

Vulga's scheme here was simple, allow Damien and anyone willing to confront the Mech. Then, wait for the perfect opportunity to strike, all while avoiding detection. While a simple plan, depending how Vulga plays this, can bear great significance on how he will go about future projects to secure Arcadia for his dark masters.

Edit: Mentioning @Wraithblade6 @supertinyking @thewizardguy @gentlemanvaultboy

Mortainius

Mortainius had just arrived on the scene, sporting a new corpse body and kickass katana with a dragon on the hilt. He was following the Mech to confront some new creatures who were to be targeted and converted. Unfortunately, one of them was some kind of freaky fish guy, and another was a big scary demon. Mortainius did not like were this was going. Then again, the very presence of the mech could force them to surrender on the spot.

Then out of nowhere, some young dude who looked like he walked straight out of a renaissance fair came the hell out of nowhere and gave some rousing speech. You know what? Mortainius thought. He was right on the money. Mortainius was a conqueror at heart and a conqueror by nature. He doesn't take orders from NO ONE! (Except for Cyano and the rest of the Alliance, because they are awesome) And he most certainly was not to take orders from an oversized tin can with appendages! "Minions." He whispered silently to his lieutenant as to not rouse the mech's driver. "You guys take care of anyone who is following that giant assclown. I got this." With that, his infantry dispersed to fight for their major. Mortainius then approached the mech, put on his Major hat, and decided to give it a piece of his mind. "Hey! You with an ugly face for a chest! Turn around!" Mortainius did not care about death anymore, it was now a matter of pride.

"Now you listen here and you listen damn good! I am not going to stand around and take any of your stupid orders any more! You are unworthy of commanding me! I may have surrender to you, but now in hindsight, YOU should have surrendered to ME! I wield more power than you can possibly imagine! I make the laws of psychics my bitch! I am a living tempest! A hurricane of awesome! You are nothing but some talentless hack who lets others build his stuff for him! And nobody! And I mean NOBODY threatens to disintegrate my minions! Just for that, I'm going to repurpose your so called "war machine" into my personal margarita mixer! Then, I'm going to rip you out of that thing and shove my Rainbow Rod right up your candy ass!"

Mortainius would wait to let that sick burn sink in, then he would unleash a storm of magical pain upon his opponent.

@supertinyking @Gentlemanvaultboy @thewizardguy @Wraithblade6

Firebrand looked back at the human who had suddenly appeared and wished that the young man had made his grand debut before he'd been forced to debase himself like this. He heard the sounds of fighting erupt in the streets far below them and saw the crooked hand the man had pointed at Viral's armor, heard the pesky thrum of magic. He didn't know what his man was doing to Viral but, considering what he had just gone through, Firebrand was willing to bet it was debilitating.

The loyalty issues in Viral's army reared their ugly heads again. From his perch on the edge of the roof he could see down as one of the men Viral had forced into submission rose up in revolt against him. The situation had not altogether changed. Should the machine fall Firebrand had no doubt that those Viral had forced under his banner would desert him, or else come for their revenge. Everyone around him seemed willing to fight. Could he really bare the shame of being the only one here with a bowed head?

He knew that he would surely die should they not be able to bring the machine down. He'd declared for Viral. Whatever others did now was impertinence, they could still be brought to heel. What Firebrand was going to do would be betrayal now. Far worse. Maybe if he respected the man he would side with him out of a sense of duty, but he reminded Firebrand far too much of his younger days for that. Besides which, there was that tilt he had felt in the world. He wanted to investigate that, and couldn't do it if he was acting as a toady for am upstart warlord. Or he would find it, but it would be found for Viral. He'd seen firsthand what happened when ambitious fools found something like that.

So he turned his attention to the problem the others had disregarded; the arm that hung above them like the sword of Damocles, ready to rain hell for their refusal. He looked across the roof to where the machines other arm kept it steady upon the building, felt the fire well up in his chest, and suddenly started blasting apart the grip with shot after shot of Busters. That part of the building crumbled away under the massive hand.

As the machine either steadied itself with its free hand or fell Firebrand hoped the young man would take to heart the lessons of today: men who were yours at the point of a sword were no men of yours at all.

@Nightknight@supertinyking@Wraithblade6@thewizardguy

---

Such belligerence, Eto herself would have cried in joy if she had seen more go-getter attitudes such as these in her own group of man-eating psychopaths. But alas, she had to confront these very types all the time. She herself would be represented as the Owl bringing forth war and destruction after all and it was only common sense that she would savor such awful events. Nonetheless, it was of course a shroud that concealed her ideals, one necessary to appear as the unstoppable monster her previous foes were terrified to confront. She terrified the CCG, she terrified the ex-Alliance. And now, she was going to impose fear to every single member of this round table, sooner or later.

Everybody seemed overly excited over their small initiative, which was to be expected considering the lack of genuine desire to find peace. At least their true colors were out in the open, except of course for the Goa'uld. Even in such events, they remained absolutely irrelevant, even if presented to a piece of information that would normally be coveted by these organizations.

The madman with a particular obsession with pigs would be the first to step in. As eloquent as he was, he would clearly need a little brawn to reinforce his witty words when it came to attendees of this farce of a summit. The Envisioning One's steps could still be heard, slowly creeping their way closer and closer to the revealing lights of negotiation room. They were unfazed by the attempts of intimidation by the Primarch, hell, it even seemed like the sound of the footsteps almost had superiority over his mighty roars and demonstrations of power.

"As my associate just said ... We're giving you guys the identity of our boss. I mean, we gave you Unicron, we forgave you killing a bunch of our guys, including yours truly, let the fact that your own boss destroyed our fleet slip by, and even got rid of these Conquerors for you."

Arms crossed and back comfortably rested against her chair, the Ghoul seemed somewhat irritated when it came to her tone, but her expression remained the same. A vile and playful one.

"So excuuuuuse us for assuming we're in the clear for SLIGHTLY disrespecting these redundant rules for some meeting led by a bunch of ..."

Her gaze would scrutinize all of the participants, making a long pause on the Imperium's side before finishing her condescending phrase. She'd grimace.

"... Nothings. So please, sit back down, and enjoy the show."

Authoritarian as always, the order was quite clear and a war over such things seemed to be petty beyond reason. They again, Oswald had made a point, following such belligerent insanity would most likely not be of benefit to any of the factions, especially the crippled Conquerors. If there was one thing she could respect for the Goa'uld, it would be their tendency to not display such absurdities in such sensitive times. Though even out of these times they never really actually did anything either. Eerie, but irrelevant.

No matter what they would do, the Envisioning One was coming, and their mere presence would spark the most irrational of fears upon the beings in this room. Even Eto herself would have a drop of sweat leak from her forehead, unsure as to what her superior would have to say about her recent outbursts.

But just as the grand reveal were about to happen ... They all smelled them. The two ghouls did, at least, while those capable of certain forms of sensory could as well. About a few seconds later, the Speaker's glasses would have a warning sign sparking at the top right of his lenses. Something was wrong and ADVENT had picked it up as well. His preoccupied stare would have him exchange nods with a somewhat distressed Eto. With that simple sign, two bright lights would emerge, each at the side of the Envisioning One's silhouette in the shadows. What came out would be two entities wearing a purple, bright mask. The rest of their bodies would remain concealed in the shadows, but their mask was overwhelmingly easy to discern.

They were the Avatars, ADVENT's finest and rarely employed in the battlefield. None of the factions were exposed to them yet. They could only associate them to the same power spikes the Uber Ethereal emitted, although much lower of course. As soon as they appeared, they would vanish within a massive portal, taking the grand leader with them as a particularly menacing threat was sniffed out by all.

"Go."

Tatara warned the two non-combatant as he'd slowly start to unzip his long, white trenchcoat. Rarely had he ever engaged in combat, and when he did, he would only start to purge himself of his noble attire if he were to employ his Kakuja. He estimated the threat worthy enough. Eto herself had activated her Kakugan on her right eye, Kagune ready to rip apart whatever would emerge. The Speaker and the Quincy representative would be quick to get on their feet and job toward the ship they had used to get here.

"A dud AND insecure. Wow, you guys sure put a lot of effort into this meetup, huh?"

She mocked the Imperium, awaiting patiently on her seat for the menaces to show themselves. Finally, they would have some time to jam.

@Savato@Absolis@Flamelord@Pirouette@Wraithblade6

Kaldor sighed. This entire thing had been a waste of time. The Outliners had not only not taken the meeting seriously, sending a deranged freak, but they appeared to be actively sabotaging the meet. Perhaps they wished to cause instability, or saw some threat in a peace treaty between major factions. Regardless of their motives, this event had been doomed the moment they had been invited. Perhaps the only good thing to come out of this was the fact that it showed off the Alliance's new rulers, who appeared at the very least willing to cooperate. It was a step in the right direction, an omen that one day the fighting and bickering might be put on hold, if not stopped. But for now, it appeared there were more important matters to be dealt with.

The centre of the room exploded outwards, launching debris in all direction as a pulsing red-and-white object the size of a tank emerged from the floor. It pules in a fleshlike manner, the strange organic compound sitting still for the briefest of moments. Kaldor recognized what it was, and although he did not know how, he knew what form of enemy they faced. This would not be pretty. The pod exploded, spreading acidic goo over those present and filling the air with noxious gas. A single breath would be enough to kill a normal man, as the gas caused rapid cellular deterioration. Merely being in contact with it could kill a human in less than 10 seconds, as they were broken down into raw biomatter. The goo itself was even faster, burning through steel and flesh with equal ease, although it was not innately poisonous. Draigo warded himself with his powers, the two lethal substances flowing around him as he stepped forward. The monster that emerged was cloaked in noxious gasses, analyzing and concocting poisons on the spot, the least lethal of which were constantly pumped into the air from the exhaust ports in it's back, and the most dangerous were ready to be injected into any who closed in for melee, glinting at the edge of the barbed blades on it's dozens of tentacles. The venomthrope was a horrific creature, a shock and support troop with the ability to wipe out entire cities by spreading it's vile creations.

Kaldor raised a hand, and as he did he felt the creature's soul. Linked to others, perhaps, but still individual. The spark of energy that made it a living being, that seperated it from the lifeless machines around it. Gesturing, he ripped it from the creature. Dozens of blades shot for his head, as the creature sent out a psionic screech. In a moment it writhed to the floor, bright light burning from it's eyes as it was burned up from the inside. Purged and annihilated. As Kaldor Draigo moved on it crumbled to dust, the organic pod that had carried it soon to follow.

"Move. This area is compromised. Prepare planet-wide evacuation methods." Kaldor barked orders at the other representatives, uncaring for their opinion of him. He was the only one aware of the threat they faced, the true nature of these beasts. The Tyranid, who stripped entire galaxies bare of life, constantly evolving and adapting, an unstoppable armada of genetically engineered monsters. "Burn the dead of both sides to slow them down, kill anyone who's wounded by these creatures. Those who can't protect themselves, flee to Imperium walls. Those who are infected, burn yourself, it'll be quicker." These instructions might keep them alive, or at least make them last longer. If this was a full fleet, then they were all already dead. The best they could do was deal as much damage as possible. But he doubted that was the case, as these creatures had come from below. The fleet would have airdropped them from above.

Stepping out onto the small landing platform prepared at the side of the pavilion, the Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights took stock. Several more pods had impacted outside or around the peace meeting's location. Tiny creatures the size of dogs swarmed the building, attacking in swarms of ten or twenty at a time. Their body armour was bullet-proof and their blades could tear through steel plate like it was butter, but they were relatively weak. The infantry of the hivemind. Blasts of divine white flame shot from his off hand as Titansword flashed, ripping through the charging creatures and clearing the landing. His armour could've withstood any hits he took, but he merely dodged and parried the creatures, even as dozens came at him at once. But he was merely delaying them. More would come, and the pavilion's anti-grav engines were taking a beating. He could do his part, clearing this area to the best of his abilities, but it would be up to each of the representatives to make their way out on their own before this place dropped out of the sky.

In the distance, the Ethereal ship was under attack as well. Hundreds of pods shot out of the sea, far below, slamming into the hull at hypersonic speeds as powerful organic teeth-like drills tore through the alien alloys. While significantly more resistant to attack than the marble peace home it had also attracted far greater attention, as hundreds of the dog-sized Hormogaunts crawled over the outer layers, accompanied by a few larger tyranid. A psionic entity similar to a floating snake with a massive head fired a beam of pure warp energy from it's mind, blasting a hole in the hull through which dozens of the creature's rushed. The creature itself merely floated leisurely inside, ready to annihilate anything within. The two Goa'Uld ships were still out of range, but if they were to close in they would find themselves similarly boarded.

The situation looked dire, but Kaldor Draigo merely smiled. At least he was back in his element - killing shit.

This was an... unexpected development. Well, not too unexpected he supposed. He had figured that there would be some kind of altercation. But not an entirely new enemy coming up to attack. He supposed it was good he had brought a back up plan. On Cyano's order of course. Now, onto the far more pressing matter, the goo.

Setting his hands on both Mithias and Agnonious' shoulder, the three would melt into the shadow beneath their table, leaving the fourth person they brought, nothing more then a simple alliance troop, at the whims of this new enemy. If anyone would notice, unless they were too busy fighting off tyranid or running scared, they would see the poor trooper become covered in the goo it fired. Within moments, the person would be melted down into nothing. It would be, fairly horrific.

Meanwhile, within the shadow, Keith would simply watch, and wait. Agonious, of course, would be itching for a fight. The only thing holding him back from running off towards the tyranids, would be Keith holding him back. And the fact that he couldn't leave without Keith helping him out. Which, would normally happen. But, this was the time for the back up plan...

Out of the shadows, five more people would appear. All similar to keith. Their forms were difficult to make out. Their minds hidden. It would be difficult to tell just what they were. The only hint being that, they looked similar to keith. Immediately setting to work, they would work in tandem to slaughter the Tyranid. Popping in and out of the shadows, shadow bolts flying through the air. Technically, they were armed combatants. Technically. It was against the rules for them to be there. But, would any one truly care, now that they had a far greater enemy to worry about?[url][/url]

@supertinyking@Nightknight@Gentlemanvaultboy@Wraithblade6

Viral sneered as he slumped in his seat. He felt sickened, and not in a good way. His hands trembled, and his vision began to blur, as he felt the dark magic working on his body. A growl escaped from his lips as he glared through locks of blonde hair. This human would challenge him? Insult him? Face him, in such a despicably arrogant manner? This was unacceptable. The mech righted itself, as Viral spoke up. "You think you can simply-"

He never got to finish his sentence. With a rumbling bang the concrete holding up the gunman's left hand collapsed, aided by a series of flaming blasts. Normally Viral would have been able to right himself in midair, or halt his fall entirely, but he found himself slowed down, debilitated, his body hesitant to respond. Cursing he fell freely, slamming into the concrete below, flattening a number of the fighters. He lay among those who had once sworn loyalty to him, traitorous fools overwhelming the few who remained on his side. Fools, cowards, human scum the lot of them. Hissing, Enki slowly moved up, but Viral knew it wouldn't be enough. The person had implied a time limit with their statement, as if whatever was affecting him now would soon kill him. And while he was confident in the immortality that had been bestowed upon him, he could not afford to show weakness to these creatures. He was Viral, captain of the Human Extermination Forces. Perhaps it was time he acted like it.

Pain arched through his body, as he screamed out. His hand grasped a dagger, plunged into his shoulder. He could feel the blade scrape bone, and the sound filled his ears. Blood flowed down his shirt, agony turned his vision red. Darkness encroached on the edge of his vision. But he forced himself up, laughing. He was hatred, he was pain, he was death. As the pain chased away the nausea in his chest, and adrenaline pumped through his veins, he grinned, gripping the controls with both hands. "Allow me to show you your folly! I am Viral, representative of Lord Genome and the Spiral Empire! All who disobey will be erased from existence!" With this cry, Enki seemed to spasm, before shooting up into the sky.

With a dexterity physically impossible in a robot of such size, Enki landed on on hand, spinning in some kind of ridiculous breakdancing move. One massive metal leg slammed into the build, ripping through stone and concrete with devastating ease. The entire tower toppled, crashing to the ground and carrying any on it downwards at high speed. Debris showered the battlefield, wiping out a significant section, which Viral had deemed filled mostly with traitors. Flipping out of the move with ease and grace, the Mech drew a massive pair of black katana, and swung through the Alliance army. One slice left a batallion of tanks in ruin, a kick exploded a smaller battle mech. A blast of electricity from Mortarius was blocked by the blade, which touched the earth to ground the lightning. Retaliation was swift, as Enki launched a nearby armoured troop truck in his direction at a high enough speed to leave him and his general area in ruin. In moments, the commander ripped his way through most of the Alliance forces, and still he was ready to deal with any threat from the remaining player forces, who might have survived the fall one way or another. This was Viral fighting seriously, putting his all into it, and as he fought a baleful red glow began to appear. An image that served as a dark omen to any who knew of it's power. In moment, he would erase most of the battlefield with that beam, along with anyone who dared oppose him any longer. Even some of the hardened Alliance troops dropped their weapons at the sight, refusing to sacrifice their life meaninglessly.

"Come then! Face me, humans! I will show you true combat!"

@thewizardguy@Gentlemanvaultboy@Nightknight@supertinyking

Damien couldn't help but stifle the cruel grin which flickered onto his face. Viral had been so easily taken off guard by even the simplest necromantic spells. Seeing their macho assailent crippled with sickness and dread, the strange mage and the fire-breathing demon were quickly inspired to revolt. Submission had never been their heart's desire, survival had. But, much like in Hell, survival meant obedience to a heirarchy of power... until that power faltered.

Viral was cast from the side of the building, and Damien lowered his hand. Perhaps now he could make the acquaintence of the several, competent beings atop the human-built edifice. "Excellent. Now, where were we? I am Damien..."

From somewhere down below, an unexpected shouting came up, "Allow me to show you your folly! I am Viral, representative of Lord Genome and the Spiral Empire! All who disobey will be erased from existence!"

"Bloody Hells..." Damien cursed in a harsh whisper as he turned to face the side Viral had fallen from. What force of will was this? The fact that this life-encumbered creature could garner enough rage and willpower to resist his own magic was frankly disturbing. Damien was moderately surprised, but no less determined to dominate this unbridled animal. His brow furrowed darkly, and he mentally prepared the barrage of agony he would inflict upon Viral next.

The giant robot, flew up, then down, and although he couldn't see it happen, Damien felt the shockwave from Enki kicking the building apart with his feet. A soft gasp escaped him as he felt the roof below him begin to accellerate downward. He was falling! There was no way he would be able to teleport fast enough.

@thewizardguy@Wraithblade6@Gentlemanvaultboy@Nightknight



...

*knock knock*

The sun would shine through the window of the Conablum Labs Arcadia branch. Cyano had built it over top of the old Alliance base, which, after the battle and subsequent surrender of their ground forces, she had had razed to the ground. The building she had built over it, while lacking the information that the main branch in her home universe contained, did have all the same capabilities. If on a smaller scale. Indeed, this particular building was much smaller. Befitting, considering how much interest she actually held in Arcadia. The only thing keeping her on this once wasteland being both a petty desire to end all the people who had annoyed her throughout her time here. And, the knowledge that if she pulled out, it was more then likely that the rest of them would follow and bring the fight to her. And, that was far, far too much work for her. Nope, it was simply better to dig out the problem at the root. And then burn it, root, problem, and anything tentatively connected to it, if the chances of a revenge seeker being among the recently deceased's friends or family was high enough.

However, now was not the time to focus on that. The focus of this particular moment, was that incessant knocking! Cyano would be roused from her sleep. Off in front of her, a Television would be on, streaming movies from a multitude of universes. In truth, the whole reason she hadn't attended the peace treaty meeting was in fact because, with a whole multiverse full of various shows and movies, she had quite the backlog. And, surely they would understand if her multiversal movie marathon was of a higher priority then some silly meeting that would probably end in one of three ways. War between all factions, some new faction showing up with perfect timing, or the low chance everyone actually settled their differences and decided peace might actually be best. In truth, she was kind of hoping for war. War would make things so much easier. After all, it was what she had been doing the entire time. Purposefully holding back to prolong it, giving up space here, taking it back there. Gunning for the best position to strike directly at the head. Though, at the same time she had most certainly given up some opportunities to wipe out the other factions. After all, however much she wanted them dead, it was more work for her to try and go at it, and some days she simply didn't feel like leaving her room to go after them. I mea-

*Knock knock*

Again with the incessant knocking! Cyano had thought, if she could postpone it with a deluge of thoughts, perhaps they would simply go away. This, did not seem to be the case however. Pulling herself out of bed, she would be wearing the same clothes she had been wearing yesterday. And, the day before that. And, in fact, a year ago. In fact, if only because of the lack of wear and tear, and overall cleanliness of the clothes, one would probably think she had one of those closets full of the same outfit. But no, it was simply the same one. Changing was simply not worth her time after all. Either way, she would make her way over to the door. And, as she got ready to open it... *Knock Knock*

The door would slam open, and in front of her would stand a scientist. This one in particular was supposed to be monitoring their troops out in the field, and informing her of when they were attacked and the like. And, in this case, he was doing exactly that. But, unfortunately for him, he had knocked one too many times. Within the flash of an eye, Cyano would have him by the throat, pushed up against the wall. Her Multitool pushed up against his head, and her hand ready to set it to sword mode, which would instantly puncture through the mans head, killing him. But, that push would not come. Instead, she would think about it for a moment.

"Your lucky we aren't home. Otherwise, this would be a pretty painful moment, don't you think? Now, tell me. What's so important you have to go waking me up. What's so important, that it's made you so impatient, you have to knock three whole times!"

As Cyano yelled, the scientist would only be able to let out a gulp, before just barely lifting his hand up enough for Cyano to be able to grab a sheet of paper from it. Grabbing it, she would drop the scientist. Who would quickly make himself scarce. Not that Cyano would care, the paper was far more important then the incompetence she had to deal with on a daily basis. And, indeed, what was written on that paper would take priority.

---

It would be a little under an hour later, that Cyano would find herself just off the outskirts of Winnipeg. From the looks of it, the town was pretty much a bandit town. Though one burning and crumbling from battle. Looking around, she didn't remember ordering anyone to patrol around here. Which, obviously meant it was some underlings fault she was now out here, having to provide the extra fire power that the normal Alliance troops didn't have. She would need to fix that later. Or, at the very least phase out the alliances troops entirely and replace them with Outward. After all, the alliance troops had surrendered the moment their leaders were beaten. They were pretty much useless for anything besides fodder. But, well, warzone. Cyano would purge the thought from her mind, and immediately begin scanning for the nearest battle. Which... would not be hard to find, as an Alliance vehicle zoomed past her. The direction it came from, probably the way to go.

She would make her way over there, out of sight, at a brisk but comfortable pace. It wasn't like their was much of a hurry now was there? But, anyways, a pace she would continue until she was situated in such a way that she could walk out right in front of the giant mech thing that was tearing through her troops and otherwise spreading general madness destruction and death. Looking at it, it really wasn't all that intimidating. Interesting, but not that intimidating. But...

"Come then! Face me, humans! I will show you true combat!"

Hammy. Definitely hammy.

Well, she would now be standing in front of him. She would look rather out of place among the troops. Her blue hair definitely being in contrast with the other alliance troops around her. She would have a look on her face, one that could be taken either as boredom, or as annoyance. Really, it depended on what whoever was looking at her thought. Not that she really cared. Drawing her sword, she would set it point down into her ground. She would click her tongue two or three times. Almost as if she was disappointed in the giant robot, before addressing it.

"Hey, you there. Yes, you in the scary scary mech. I know it's probably not a good time and all, I mean, you seem to really be enjoying yourself with all this slaughter and whatnot. And hey, heeey, I get it, I enjoy myself a good slaughter too. And I know I would be really annoyed if someone got in my way but, I need to ask you one serious, very important question."

With that, Cyano would draw her multitool out, and pull her sword from the ground. The look on her face was now very clearly one of annoyance.

"Do you even so much as turn into a dinosaur? Or are you one of those boring robots? Hm?"

Firebrand couldn't help but smiling as the machine went tumbling from sight. Maybe now he'd get an opportunity to catch his breath. Then there was a shout, and an impact, and the whole building shuttered and gave way beneath them.

He fell for a moment, wings struggling to find purchase in the air, then spotted the less fortunate among them falling fast and hard. He'd heard that fish thing say something about having a way out, so he pointed himself downward and dived toward the human. Matching his speed he reached out with his feet and snatched the human out of the air by his shoulders, the demons wings slowly decreasing the speed of their descent. Finally they stopped and hovered in the air.

Firebrand smiled down at him as the other demon flitted around like a ball of nervous energy, face stuck somewhere between absolute horror and fanboy glee. "Phase one went well enough." Firebrand said, "I certainly hope phase two wasn't 'die like men,' because from the look of that glow he plans to kill us like ants."

He reached up tenderly with his ruined hand and it just sufficed to pull the chain of his Claw Talisman from around his neck and pass it off to the young demon at his side. The demon looked confused, until Firebrand pointed down at the human. The demon nodded, dropped down, and placed the talisman around the humans neck like it was bestowing an award. The effect was instantaneous as the man felt whatever it was inside that told him he could do magic surge, doubling in potency. "Cast them if you've got them my friend." Firebrand said. "I'll try and keep you safe as best I can."

@Wraithblade6@Absolis@Nightknight@supertinyking@Absolis

Horatio Isodore

Location: Classified, Great Britain

Horatio stood there at the war table, garbed like a living armory, and surrounded by his most trusted and powerful warriors, of which he had commanded in countless bloody battles both inside and outside of the Infernum's borders. The room was completely dark and dank, the stone walls cracked and in disrepair after centuries of neglect, though conditions like these were of no concern to the devils, who were trained to dwell in all but the most hostile environments. He had on the table a map of the world that had been explored by his scouts, which he gazed into while using his scrying magic to keep track of his agent, Vulga, who had been deployed to Winnipeg in Canada, initially to monitor the condition of this border region, but now Vulga is in the middle of a warzone, and would have to fight alone.

Horatio knew that Vulga was a talented agent though, and would not be so easy to detect and kill. Nonetheless, he is paying very close attention on the status of the battle, should action need to be taken for any purpose. It was during this time though that a telepathic signal had been sent straight to the Pit Lord's mind from a Hamatula. "Sir! A foreign radio signal has been picked by our sensors! Do you wish to read the report?" Mentally, he replied: "Yes". The Pit Lord then concentrated his magic on viewing the report that was in the devil's hand one floor above his current location. "This is Martin Robinson, Roboticist from Space Station 13, Formerly owned by Nanotech. We may be facing a large scale event on the plant. A possible singularity, is all I could hazard guess at...but....If there is anyone out there, with better equipment than this...I need your help. Come unarmed....but prepared. We have work to do, and we must do it fast, because this may either be nothing, or the largest event in history..." So the report says.

Apparently some mortal using foreign measuring instruments had come to speculate that something significant was happening on the planet they were on that may warrant further inquiry. While Horatio found it easy to dismiss these as ramblings of a deranged weak-minded humanoid, the fact that the distress call had such a powerful signal behind it and would be publically transmitted as opposed to encrypted raised some alarm bells. Perhaps a cry for help? Or maybe, this mortal knew something that others have yet to become aware of. Whatever the reasoning behind this broadcast was, it roused Horatio's interests, if only slightly, and knew that this was worthy of some sort of investigation, least information slip from his grasp.

The Pit Lord told the Hamatula to resume his duties. He then telepathically talked to his second in command, Carno, a strong Cornugon who had stood near him, planning with the other devil strategists on the best methods of conquest and defensive measures. "Carno." Carno jolted to attention with tens of thousands of years of reflex upon the utterance of his name. "Sir!" He mentally replied. Horatio continued: "You are to identify and pinpoint the origins of the radio signal as detailed in Report #117816. You are then to give agent Vulga upon his return the order to investigate the source of the signal and identify its causation before anyone else does. He is also to identify the number and conditions of creatures behind the signal, and to use any means necessary to extract information from them. He is not to kill any creature there except in self defense. Once the information is obtained, the creatures safety becomes irrelevant. If others do arrive at the scene before, during, or after his discovery, he is not to engage. Avoiding detection is optional. He may reveal his identity if necessary. Assuming it is feasible, retrieve DNA samples from the creatures and any others you encounter. You have your orders." With a passionate sir yes sir, Carno immediately passed the order down the chain of command.

Horatio continued to watch Vulga's every move and his status from half the world away, pondering his next move.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking

@Gentlemanvaultboy @Nightknight @Wraithblade6 @Absolis @thewizardguy

"CANNON BALL!" Ozo yells, as he becomes Robo-Ozo, using the moments of free fall to transform, him smashing into the ground with a loud thud, crushing stone under his now metal form, his armor plates doing well to pulverize the bits of cement, or whatever the building was made of. However, he found himself quickly buried by the building falling onto him, pinning him down under it. Lucky for him, he vanishes into the river, watching the battle from below. Enki was causing havoc, and Ozo knew he couldn't do much. However, maybe he could eat someone who could.
Swimming out into the battle between the traitor forces of the skull man, and Viral's men, Ozo watched, looking for a powerful combatant. He needed more strength, and these men had slaughtered almost a third of the city. Ozo held no pity, nor mercy for such animals. Trample the weak, that was their plan. Now it was time for them to be devoured. Slowly, he swam under them, looking for a prime target to devour. He took his time, to an extent, knowing that if he rushes ahead he could end up as fried fish sticks, which would do him, nor his allies any good.
"Which one of you monsters will be my next meal?" He wonders, in his mind, licking his lips.

Mithias was already on his feet with swords drawn when the center of the room ultimately exploded, tossing him aside. There was no way he could have anticipated such an attack, even with his supernatural perceptions. His first thought was that the Outliners had used some sort of weird, ghoul, kaja-hooi shit to sucker-punched them all right in the face. He was furious. He had no knowledge of Tyrannid, or races like them, and so had no concept of what was inside that massive, disgusting pod. All Mithias knew was that battle had begun, and he had to be ready to react to anything. As he got up, he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder and instinctively flinched and threw it off. Having lost his grip on Mithias, Keith was only able to pull Argonious into his protected shadow realm.

The tentacled creature burst out of its shell, quickly melting people with its goo. Wisely, Mithias stepped back and realized he had to hold his breath. The caustic fumes and spatter were potentially lethal, even for him if he were exposed to enough of it. he had no idea how to approach this monster, or even if he should, but there was no one around to seek guidance from, he was technically surrounded by enemies. They all were. Could this meeting really not have been a setup from the start?

Thankfully, yet suspiciously, the Imperial general proved himself very capable of destroying the monster and did so. As its burn-out form smoldered into ashes before them, Mithias exclaimed accusingly at Kaldor, "'Planet-wide evacuation??' Is that really necessary?!" Mithias shook his head in fury and confusion, sputtering from having forgotten already NOT to breathe. He glanced at the others who appeared to have been struggling similarly. Keith's clones began to appear, and it became clear the attack was not over. Similar, dog-like monsters were now running around, attacking people.

How could this have happened? What were these creatures, and why did they suddenly appear exactly here, at this crucial moment? Mithias' quick wit put the pieces together for him... It was a betrayal by the Imperium of Man. It had to be. They must've summoned a threat that they knew their enemies couldn't contend with, and yet one that they apparently could handle just fine. What easier way would there be to claim Arcadia? Simply wipe out your enemies with a "disease" of sorts, then come back later to a world ready for cleansing, and all the while, they would look like heroes. It was laughably simple.

Mithias wasn't going to have any part of this. With Keith and Argonious safe, he had no moral obligation to remain there. Self-preservation could be pursued with no holds barred. He'd have to find a way to deal with these foul monsters as well as the other factions, but that could all be worked out later. He made a dash for the edge of the platform only to be met with one of the large dog-beasts. He slashed, and his sword skid off the armor. The damn thing was plated, and fast. It swiped at him, and he dodged, only for it to leap with the weight of its body on top of him. A telekinetic blast threw the thing aside, but not before a long claw had reached far enough to tear into Mithias' chest.

Mithias shouted, yet the pain was brief in his adrenaline-fueled state. The creature was back up and charging again like some kind of rabid machine. This time, he lifted it, and burned it from the inside with his pyrokinesis much like Kaldor had. The only problem was, this method of killing these creatures was slow, and there were more coming by the second.

@Supertinyking

Martin's call had not gone unheard among the forces of the Imperium. With Kaldor Draigo momentarily unavailable, the decision was brought to Azrael, current Commander General of the Spaceborn Military. A quick Auger check revealed that the origin point indeed contained technology foreign to this world. The possible severity of the situation merited a check, and it was not within enemy territory. A dispatch was approved by Azrael personally, as the great battleships hovering over Arcadia prepared the old tried-and-true strategy of Steel Rain. The troops were armed and armoured up, and made their way into several drop pods. These pods were fired through the atmosphere of Arcadia, like high-powered and highly accurate missiles. They launched for thousands of killometers, streaking a trail of fire across the sky, shooting stars of war that would be all too familiar to the Alliance and Outliners, who had seen them previously employed.

Eventually the drop pods crashed into one of the many cities of Switzerland. They avoided the exact origin of the coordinates, unwilling to accidentally squash the person sending it (or their house), instead smashing through a number of nearby office towers. They came to a rest lodged into the ground in a square, although there wasn't much left but rubble and dust when the three pods opened up. Slowly they emerged, two squads of Tactical Marines, and one squad of Devastator Marines. They had come prepared for anything, completely ignoring the 'unarmed' statement. If the sender was an ally, they would happily cooperate. If not, they would make sure this information was taken by the Empire, and did not fall into enemy hands.

Squad Alpha, the Devastator squad, was a heavily equipped bunch. They were lead by Luitenant Adrian, wielding a Master-Crafted Multi-Melta, a powerful weapon that fired burst of high-powered plasma. The weapon had the same range as a non-heavy Bolter, but was well-known for melting through armour with ease. Of his squad mates, 3 carried Heavy Bolters, 1 carried a Missile Launcher, and 2 carried Lascannons. This was all long-range weaponry, mainly focused against anti-armour. Lascannon lasers were capable of firing incredibly high-powered lasers that would rip any armour apart instantly. The missile launcher carried both Krak and Frag Missiles, allowing for the versatility of anti-armour or anti-personell fire. They carried a set of Flashbang grenades to deter enemies from getting too close.

Squad Beta was the first of the two tactical squads. Their role was to scout ahead, and they were equipped for the task. Luitenant Amon was equipped with a Force Sword and Bolt Pistol, able to defend himself well in melee and at range. The weapon packed a lot of punch, but wasn't particularly effective against armour. Most of his squad-mates carried Bolters, but 2 carried Flamers. These powerful promethium-based weapons made the flamethrowers of earth look like mere lighters. The squad carried Melta Bombs, high-powered bombs that needed to be set on a target before use.

Squad Zeta was the second tactical squad deployed. Their role was to cover Beta, as well as deal with versatile enemies. They were more maneuverable than Alpha, and therefore could best cover the flanks of both other squads. Lead by Luitenant Drakon, who wielded a Master-Crafted Sniper Rifle. The others in the squad carried mostly Bolters, although two wielded Plasma Guns. They wielded standard Frag Grenades, anti-infantry fragmentation grenades.

The infantry was accompanied by a single Librarian, a man by the name of Remus Day. Wielding a Force Stave and Plasma Pistol, he wielded the Divination school of psychic ability. This would allow him to direct and assist his allies in battle. He hung back with Squad Alpha, assisting them at range while preserving himself.

After a brief role-call, Remus ordered the troops move forward. Moving from cover to cover, Squad Beta scouted forward for the two others as they advanced through the ruined city. Their target had certainly noticed their arrival, as they hadn't exactly been subtle. But it was no matter, as they could deal with anything in their way. Upon eventually arriving at the Station itself the squads prepared for battle. Alpha and Zeta set up their weaponry in a nearby abandoned building, preparing to fire on anything that seemed dangerous. Meanwhile, Squad Beta moved forward, slowly creeping towards the entrance of Space Station 13. Luitenant Amon warily looked around, before lowering his weapon and raising his voice. "We are the Dark Angels of the Space Marines, responding to a distress signal from this area. Identify yourself, as well as the nature of your distress. We do not wish to fight you, but we will if it proves necessary." Amon didn't state exactly what would be deemed 'necessary', but it was true he had no intention of fighting. This wasn't an assault mission, rather it was an investigation, and diplomacy was the preferred option.

@Gentlemanvaultboy @Nightknight @Wraithblade6 @Absolis @supertinyking

Amidst the extensive fighting and screaming occurring around Enki's feet, Cyano was just another technicoloured dot among a blur of faces and bright lights. Her voice was lost in the din, and Viral was unlikely to take notice of her even if he'd been aware of her. Nothing about her belied the abilities she possessed, making her just another of many fighters, if one with a particularly large ego. He did, however, almost step on her as Enki shifted position.

The beam had charged up, the baleful red light casting stark shadows across the battlefield. "This is the fate of those who oppose me." With those words, Viral fired the weapon of mass destruction. A beam of light tore across the battlefield in front of Enki, as a moment later massive explosions erupted from it's path. The entire area Firebrand, Ozo and Damien had been in was devoured in a massive red orb of an explosion, a powerful plasma-based explosion that would disintegrate all that it struck. Buildings were ripped asunder, collapsing as vast portions of them spontaneously vanished. Nothing was left in the blast area, all life eradicated. If anyone had survived, they had done so by escaping at the nick of time. Regardless, it would appear as if the group had been erased.

Slowly, the massive mech turned back towards the scene around it's legs, as it stomped down on the last of the undead. There was a moment of silence. The demonstration of power had brought a halt to any fighting, and most likely even Cyano would have taken a moment to appraise the damage dealt by the attack. "The Alliance are worthless. The Imperium is worthless. The Goa'Uld are worthless." The words were spat out, as if the names left a bad taste on the tongue. "None are worthy of conquering this world. Mere humans with delusions of grandeur, weeds left to grow in the absence of the gardener. I am here to show them their place. Any who wish to follow me are free to. I am in need of troops, so I grant amnesty to those who made the foolish decision of turning against me in the heat of battle. Any who refuse are free to an honourable death." Faced with such a choice, few were willing to lay down their lives.

Sighing, Viral lay back in his chair. He could feel the curse subsiding, as his body returned to normal. That had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit, to himself most of all. But once more he had dealt with all in front of him. Dirty humans resorting to dirty tactics, because they had nothing else. Soon he would march on this source of information he had heard of, and begin establishing his dominance in this world. He would keep the more loyal elements of his army, and filter out the fools. He would form an army willing to follow him to the end, and he would lead them against the foolish factions that fought over this world. At that moment, had it not been for Cyano, he would have turned and marched away. But undoubtedly, the grumpy scientist would feel the need to intervene, having been ignored up until now.

@Wraithblade6
As Mithias fought his way past the Hormogaunts, employing his superhuman strength and reflexes, he found himself driven into a corner. It almost appeared as if he was being herded, the creatures specifically targetting him and cutting off his escape route. Several seemed to happily sacrifice their lives for this cause, cutting him off from any potential allies even as they jumped in the path of attacks. With the difficulty he'd had dealing with even a single vampire, he found himself inevitably forced away, towards through a door into the back area of the peace convent, where refreshments and spare bow-ties were stored. It was rather strange, rolling backwards over a plate of delicate pink cupcakes to avoid a blast of acid blasted from what appeared to be a biological gun grafted to the arms of one of these things. The acid ate through the tablecloth and table, leaving the delicacies a most distasteful smoking goo. Dashing past a table of various alcohol-free drinks he found himself standing on a small landing strip. In front of him stood a tiny Imperium ship painted in the grey-and-white pattern of the Grey Knights, and bearing Kaldor's insignia. Clearly this was the ship he had used to arrive, although he had not retreated in this direction, seeming to possess no intention of retreating.

Of course, as he moved in, the creatures instantly retreated. They were unwilling to approach the ship for unwilling reasons, instead holding Mithias in this area, and preventing others from coming to his aid. Although as Mithias looked back at the ship, he would come to the conclusion that it wasn't the ship they were avoiding.

On the hood sat a single figure, casually leaning back over the windshield with hands behind his head. He smiled down, bright red eyes glowing up slightly. The smile looked almost genuinely kind, although his eyes betrayed a more sinister intention. To most he would merely look human. A kid of maybe 18 years old, with short scruffy hair and a green school uniform. He wasn't particularly strongly built, and wasn't particularly dangerous-looking. But Mithias noticed things others wouldn't. He noticed the lack of breathing, the complete silence that indicated death. Slight hint of fangs behind the smile, and the particular shape of the eyes. The way he moved his head, a grace and economy of motion similar to that of a predator. This person was a vampire, and a powerful one at that. He seemed to be surrounded by an aura of power, an almost physical force pushing at him. Mithias felt a strange and ridiculous urge to kneel, or bow, an almost instinctive recognition of vampiric royalty.

"So, is this what our race has come to? Servants of fools?" The figure looked down at Mithias disapprovingly, seeming to gaze right through his flesh and into his soul. This figure bore himself like Gabriel, a vamp who just knew he was better than the rest. He even smiled in a similar way, the crazy grin of a mad god. "It appears that my kin in other realms truly are weak. Tell me. What is your name? Answer well, and I may yet let you live."

@supertinyking@thewizardguy
Vulga Remmington

Location: Winnipeg, Canada

Vulga had seen the devastating power of Enki, and the ruin in its wake. He was impressed by how much power it expelled and the radius it covered. If only such magnificence was in the capable hands of his master. None would dare to ever oppose Lord Horatio. Not having long to ponder the true expanse and diversity of what the enemies of this planet might have in store, Vulga had received new instructions form HQ, implanted into his mind. Seeing no reason to linger any longer in a city doomed to death, he teleported to HQ, collected some medical supplies, weapons, and body armor, and then transformed himself into a small young man with brown hair and eyes. It was time to get into character. With that, he cloaked himself and teleported as close to his target destination as possible.

Vulga found himself in the outskirts of a ruined city. This must be the area where the signal originated. Unfortunately, he saw that he was not alone. Some humanoids in some form of power armor were currently in the process of advancing towards the target. Seeing this, he hid out of sight and decloaked, keeping his disguise. He would then come out and slowly approach, gun drawn as to appear to be a normal solider scouting the area. It was then that he came within sight of the Dark Angels and lowered his gun. Feigning ignorance he spoke. "W-Who are you!?"

@thewizardguy @Nightknight

"...I am coming out, with my hands up.....do not shoot the purple wool covered human..." He says, slowly emerging from the station, hands up. "...My name is Martin Robinson. Please, don't murder me." He states, clearly. "I mean no harm....and I said come unarmed. If you start a conflict here, you might destroy something valuable, which could help save the planet....." He states, on his knees, hands up, making sure that he couldn't be miss interpreted as a hostile action. He was not terrified. He had ready a gas grenade, one that would scramble their dna. It'd be painful, but little else. Crippling, for a moment....
He eyed the fellows there, and felt as if he was being stared down by a Nanotech death squad. He felt like he'd be plastered at any moment. He however, was pulling a sort of bluff. He wanted them to think they needed him, if only slightly.

Things rapidly got out of hand, even more than Ba'al had expected.

While he had been ready to talk with the Dark Outliners face to face, the rising tension had not helped matters. And it all culminated as a new foe presented itself, the center of the room practically exploding to release a pod into the room that in turn blew up to spread goop everywhere. Of course both Ba'al and Qetesh were fine, it splattering onto personal shields that flared to life and took the impact without harming either of them. The guard was less likely, but it wasn't like he was important anyway.

"I suppose that's time for us to take our leave," Ba'al said with a sigh as he looked across to Qetesh. A button was pressed and the Goa'uld representatives would exit the room via teleportation, bright beams of light flashing before they vanished from sight. That had been interesting, he supposed.

The two of them appeared on the bridge of one of the two Ha'taks that were drawing near the combat zone, though not in it yet. "Well then, that was eventful," Ba'al noted as he looked over at Qetesh, obviously amused. She wasn't, but that was besides the point. "I should return to our Empire. I trust you can handle things here?"

"Of course I can. How little your faith in me," Qetesh replied with a smooth yet deadly velvet in her tone. Oh, she knew exactly how to handle this. With another press of the button Ba'al disappeared, leaving Qetesh on the bridge with the other Jaffa.

The Queen of the Goa'uld Empire grinned darkly as she turned to look out the viewscreen at the scene of combat playing out in front of her, the Temple ship under attack along with the meeting place. Her eyes flashed as she issued commands to both Ha'taks. "Raise shields, launch Death Gliders. Fire. At everything." She would let them see the true power of the Goa'uld, in a way that they would understand.

Fightercraft roared out from hangar bays to plunge ahead as shimmering gold energy walls rose around the approaching capital ships. They would move to meet the Tyranid forces even as bolts of golden plasma flew out from a myriad of ship mounted staff cannons. They were aiming at the Tyranid's, sure, but if it hit the Temple Ship or the meeting area in the process then she wouldn't complain. It was just unfortunate damage.

@thewizardguy@Wraithblade6@Absolis@Savato