@thewizardguy @Tyki @Flamelord

"Incoming boarding parties." The Ai, Suzzi, would chirp to Martin over his comms. "Heavily armed....Death Squads."

The death squad. A thousand memories passed though Martin in a split second, and it took only that to decide what he must do. While most men would be far to slow to act before the boarding parties arrived, Martin's mechanical augments gave him the reaction speed to do as needed. His fingers slammed into his pda, several tendons in his hands tearing due to the stress he was putting on them, but the robotic sythn-muscle kept moving. As the torpedoes almost connected, the station vanished in a flash of bright blue light, a huge spike of radiation forming where it had been. Of course, that was secondary, to what was left behind..a strange grouping of objects, quickly figured out to be a strange looking weapon. It flew towards the Rock, and suddenly....Let out an EMP wave, which would do, nothing. It had been little more than a diversion, something to alarm them.

Suddenly, a station would appear over what was once Saitama, in the Kanto Region of Japan. This station would be no doubt recongnised by Xel-rath, and further more, would be picking up a lot of signals from the station saying, it comes in peace, seeking asylum from the Imperium. All of which would no doubt be sucked up by Xel-rath's structures, keeping the signals from reaching the imperium, however the near by Gou-ald could hear these cries clearly, even with Xel'rath's structures consuming the signals.

-----------------------

@Wraithblade6 @Gentlemanvaultboy

Ozo nods, and suddenly, his tongue lashes out, grabs Damian, and pulls him into his mouth, swallowing him whole. "Don't worry, I'm not eating him. This is how I transport fellows. Fear not, for you're far safer in there, then holding onto me." Ozo declares, before vanishing in a splash of water. Quickly, he shoots though the waters of the great river, the pendant causing him to move exceptionally fast.
"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Ozo would yell, soon arriving on the coast of Australia, spitting out the necromancer, nice and dry. This would take all of thirty seconds. "I'll return, in a moment!" He declares, leaving Damien alone, on the coast of Australia, in the city of Sidney, on the coast.

Back at Winipeg, A huge blast of Red energy would surge into the skies, and then come back down, striking into many different creatures, those who opposed him, and Viral. The dreaded thirteenth spell. The Imperium's psykers could feel this, a faint tremmor in the warp, as an unknown entity made itself only slightly known. These shots slammed into men, women, and children alike, transforming them into Skaven, their now weaker, smaller, rat like bodies being crushes, and trapped, underneath their weapons and armor....

But Firebrand, was sparred. Threek knew there was something about that creature. Something that made his skin crawl. Those blades he had, it..felt like the great Rat detested such things, that cut into the warp. Threek would not force his god to touch such things, and for that, Firebrand was spared...for now...

Teal'c was unsure as to what this figure was talking about, since the explanation clashed very much with known fact. Even if there were certain circumstances surrounding events that were better left uncommented on in the name of maintaining a positon of strength. "You are mistake," he replied, meeting it with his own unshaking resolve. "The Gods are real. Lord Ba'al could destroy this entire planet if he wished it." Or rather, he could render this planet uninhabitable, even if he could not destroy it outright.

With that said, they turned to the matter of the Jaffa who had gone missing. It was interesting that they had avoided the term killed, but as Ba'al had noted any a time there were things worse than death, especially for a Goa'uld. Indeed, death was no escape, even to their kind. "This land has been granted to the Goa'uld, by right of presence as well as by international agreement. Your presence will not be tolerated. Should you prove unwilling to negotiate, you will be removed, and do not think you can fend off the might of a God, who has several galaxies at his command."

He didn't care about his own death. He merely wanted to serve.

@supertinyking

---

Naturally the arrival of the imperial vessel was quickly noted, and scans would make short work of determining who, and what, was inside. Nonetheless they ship would be able to see the various emplacements that the Goa'uld had up, ground based orbital defense cannons, marching columns of Jaffa, majestic buildings that dwarfed the small structures located at the edges of settlements. And of course, plenty of Tel'taks, some Cheops cruisers, parked Death Gliders, all the signs that the Goa'uld were building up for military operations, and in a manner that suggested they might have been showing off as such.

Contact was made and received, the reason for their visit explained quickly enough. While Ba'al did consider blowing them away for their previous impudence, he was reasonable enough to understand that doing so, at least in this situation, would not really accomplish anything. If they wanted to talk, he could at least give them that much of a courtesy.

"Imperial Diplomat, land at the coordinates being given to you. Deviating from your flight path will be seen as a sign of hostile intent," the Goa'uld replied at last, giving the coordinates for a clear landing strip within eyesight of one of the Ha'tak pyramids, but without too much nearby to get in the way should there be a problem. For now though, it seemed that there would not be conflict, in spite of what had happened previously.

@thewizardguy

---

The sudden appearance of the space station above Japan sent the Goa'uld into something of an annoyed frenzy, and within moments it was being confronted by a Ha'tak vessel, the one that had been earmarked to support Teal'c in his ground mission. The message seeking asylum was received, unexpected and most definitely unplanned for. It seemed that today was a day for strange occurrences, though why it hadn't gone for South America, the Goa'uld power stronghold, was anyone's guess.

Weapons would be trained as a precaution, even as comm channels were opened to the space station. "Unknown vessel, you are trespassing in Goa'uld space," the Ashrak aboard said over the radio. "Identify yourself immediately." They didn't seem to be hostile, as evidenced by the radio message, but better safe than sorry. In the meanwhile a message would be sent to Lord Ba'al, to keep him appraised of the situation.

@supertinyking

@Flamelord

The sheer gall of the creature before Nim attempting to frighten the godly being was entertaining enough to raise a laugh out of him for a solid five to ten seconds. "You're quite the entertaining creature aren't you, throwing around the word galaxy like you understand the sheer scope of it, what it means to rule it, or even simply what it means to devour one. As it stands, the being I serve has the understand of both and, much like this Ba'al, could turn this planet to naught but empty space and whether you like it or not, your people fired upon it, rendering your claim to their lives and this land as mute as all those galaxies it's devoured as easily as your kind might a grape. So tell me again, creature who here is the trespasser? Oh, before you pick the wrong answer, why don't you try contacting your master for the neccessary information" Nim states evenly, their communication devices having been completely dead on both ends since the team had arrived there which had probably prompted a rescue team if Ba'al even cared that much about them.

@supertinyking

In another part of japan, Martin finds himself suddenly hailed by two different sources at once, one of which being a very bright, glowing bird lady he didn't recognize in the slightest. "hello, this is Communications direct Shas'la, who is this?" she asks curiously from her spot at a terminal, Xel'rath having already built a rather large (at least for his needs) fortress as well as a self propagating people to staff it. Shas'la Had only really been created an hour ago using the reprocessed soul of a waitress at a space diner, but she still held within her the knowledge of several billion consumed galaxies so she was rather grown up considering her age.

@Flamelord @Tyki

"My name is Martin Robinson..and I am a defector from the Imperium of man...carrying vital information, in exchange for asylum from the Imperium, who no doubt seek to find me...and kill me." Martin says, sending out a video and audio transmission, his fluffy, wool covered face showing. He looked human in the face, for what could be seen, among the tangled purple fluff. "I..was forced to jump blindly, in order to avoid being obliterated by the exceptionally large space station the Imperium has in orbit of the planet...which..is...slightly larger than the planet itself...If I had to guess."
Once again, Martin found himself running from what seemed to possibly be another nigh all powerful human dominated group, that'd now seek to turn him inside out for what he has done. What he had done, which was try to return five creatures to their natural state. To atone for former sins. To work towards maybe, being able to be a good person. What did he get for his troubles, his efforts? A god damn extermination squad sent to most likely kill him, and them! Now, he was speaking to a bird woman, and a altered human, something obviously amiss with them.
"I'm...Sorry..for the tresspass, but that was the last thing on my mind..if..you wish, you may board the station, but do know I will have security forces...at hand."
This, was an understatement. After that fiasco, he was already getting a moddified Riply Mechanoid Suit produced. The moddifications was for some more..combat oriantated weapon systems, rather than the mining systems that Riplys normally have...

@supertinyking@Wraithblade6

As Damien was unceremoniously spat out onto the Australian coast, he would find himself in a rather desolate landscape. Great empty plains of unruly earth, covered in batches of alien weeds. Like in most of Arcadia any native flora had been completely wiped out in some cataclysm, and all that grew here now had been ported in via the terminals. Ironically, this made the old cities the most overgrown location, as the places where previously immense forests had grown were now home only to fast-spreading fungi and weeds. In the distance he could see just one such place, a large decrepit city covered in vines, and the large bulbous forms of fungal spore colonies. There were no visible fauna, and in fact no evidence of organic lifeforms whatsoever, which was certainly surprising, as almost every other location on the planet had attracted a population of otherwordly warriors, and occasionally some very large monsters. In fact it appeared to be completely undisturbed, as if nobody had been here since it's original population was wiped out.

Of course, not all of the unease the necromancer felt could be explained by this simple oddity. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head, something he couldn't quite understand that made him feel like he was forgetting something. Something important. It in fact took him quite a while before he managed to locate the exact source of this phantom annoyance, but when he did it was stunning indeed. He could not feel the presence of his Lord Asmodeus. Not even the tiny fraction of attention warranted him by his service, the tiny nod directed towards him, guiding him along his path. He could still feel the background energy of the universe, mana, from which all magic comes. But nothing from beyond the borders of this strange land. He could see the sea stretch out into infinity, and to all of his senses, it was as if the rest of the universe, nay, the rest of the multiverse, had simply dropped out of existence. Something was isolating him, blocking off the outside world, to a degree that was in fact hard to fathom.

Suddenly, a shiver went down his spine. There was a tiny voice, in the back of his head. A tiny voice that spoke not in words, but in thoughts, in emotions, whispered so quietly into his ear that a less experienced one might have mistaken them for their own mind. Small things, restless things. He could feel the very air in this place expelling him, washing up against his mind like the sea upon the rocks, softening the edges, and washing away the memories. The longer he thought about it, the less he could remember his goal in coming here, nor the urgency that had previously motivated him. No doubt an ordinary mortal would have simply walked away, completely nonplussed, mere moments after entering this strange place, not realising the manipulation that drove them away. And in fact, Damien realised, if he were to allow this voice to drive him off, there was no doubt he would soon forget what had caused him to leave, or why he'd been at all interested in this continent to begin with.

There was something very wrong here. Something twisted, something impossible, hiding behind the thing veneer of normality. And whatever it was, it did not intend to be discovered.

@Flamelord
Sighing, Abrams let out a breath at the response. It turned out he would be granted an audience, at least. No doubt they had some kind of hologram prepared to talk to him. In all of the Imperium's dealings with the Goa'Uld, their elusive leader had never bothered to appear in person, hiding behind layers and layers of smoke and mirrors. A necessary strategy for such an inherently weak Xenos race. But racism aside, Abrams had no comfort, as he ordered the ship to land in the designated area, and prepared to speak to the Goa'Uld 'God'.

The warlike preparations had certainly not escaped his notice, but with the threat of the Tyranid looming, none could blame them for preparing their weapons. The Imperium had done much the same, after all. Although Abrams had no doubt the Goa'Uld wouldn't hesitate to turn those fancy weapons on the Imperium if they thought it would give them an advantage of some kind. Or simply if they saw a chink in their armour, and thought they could get away with sliding in the knife.

Abrams emerged form his ship clad in the signature Power Armour of the Astartes, flanked by four of his battle brothers. Two of them held up banners, one of which carried the dragon-head symbol of the Salamanders, and the other depicting the golden aquila of the New Imperium, amended by the darker gold star emblazoned onto the background of the banner. Seals and scrolls flapped in the wind, accolades and medals forged onto his armour to remind all who saw him of his deeds and valour. He wore a long cloak forged from salamander scales, each of which had been electrochemically bonded with a specially prepared adamantium alloy. In his hand he carried the Reaping Claw, a blade upon which stood engraved the names of each hero that had died holding that very blade. It was a weapon, and a mark of office, a blade of practice as well as a symbol of authority. He stood before the Goa'Uld proud, even as his battle brothers dropped to their knees behind him, a symbol of respect. Abram's chiseled features betrayed none of the doubts he held, as he calmly prepared to speak to one of the most powerful figures on Arcaida.

"I am Luitenant Captain Abrams of the Salamanders Chapter, First Company. I come here to speak to Ba'al, Lord of the Goa'Uld, and to represent the Imperium's interests in cooperating with the Goa'Uld."

@supertinyking@Wraithblade6

"Interesting." Firebrand said as the strange red light seemed to go out of its way to avoid him even as horrid, ratlike squeals began erupting from the city. He looked at the bag where the broken remains of the swords were held approvingly. "Looks like it's working already." He wasn't the sort of demon that made talismans of power like this, and was unsure of how they were constructed. He'd never really thought of where his own drew their power, although he suspected the concept was similar to that of Devil Arms. "What are yo a part of, I wonder?"

@thewizardguy@supertinyking@Gentlemanvaultboy

Damien wasn't mentally or physically prepared for Ozo's method of transport, and he gasped and freaked as Ozo lashed him with his tongue and yanked the necromancer gracelessly into his gullet. Terrified, the human struggled but was too weak to wriggle out of Ozo's insides. Fortunately, it wasn't long he had to endure this state of hell before he was dumped out, fairly dry, on a beach.

Damien fell forward, then flipped onto his back and kicked and scrambled at the sand beneath him to back away. He glared at ozo accusingly, heart racing, before the fish-man took off again. Damien's nose wrinkled and he gnashed his teeth in a promise of retribution that he'd think better of before Ozo would get back.

With Ozo quickly gone again, Damien had no idea what-the-hell kind of magic he used, Damien stood up and collected himself. Then, as his eyes turned on the stunning scene of desolation and alien wilderness, it hit him. What was at first a natural wonder and analytical curiosity began to be invaded by a quiet distraction. Subtly, Damien began to lose his concentration, his awareness, and his focus. An alarm went off in his mind as he felt disturbingly different. He was alone... Asmodeus had wanted him here, but... his lord wasn't watching anymore... where was he again? Why had he come here? Damien's mind began to fog, and he was moments away from wandering off, until he realized, "Hey. Wait a minute. This isn't normal."

"No!" He called out to his unseen enemy furiously. Damien refused to be dominated, nothing was more infuriating, and few individuals carried as much hate and rage than this one little man. He fought to remember as it pressed to overtake his mind.

As he strained to focus, he recalled a time when he had delt with this kind of trick before. Dark sorcerers used to protect their knowledge and their works by placing protection spells on their tomes. Any fool unfortunate enough to try to read it would be captured in a deadlock of circular reading, where the same sentence just repeated again and again without the victim realizing it until they utterly read themselvees to death. The spell was ancient and lethal and had been banned for many ages. It took a magic user with a strong will to escape the trap, by forcing himself to read past the circle until the trapped lines were finished. And thus Damien forced himself to keep thinking, to hold on to some memory, anything, until the influence passed. Still fighting, he reached down into his shirt and pulled out Sariel's ring and squeezed it in his hand as tightly as he could. The pain of the etched leaves in its decorations cut into his flesh, a thin thread of his connection with reality to help keep him aware of himself.

Sariel... Damien grit his teeth as a tear unconsciously beaded at the corner of his eye. He'd see the world that took her from him burn.

Fortified, Damien began to regain his mental strength. He had won. Shakily, he released the bloody ring and took a few steps toward the jungle at the edge of the beach. The isolation was still there, but he was better able to analyze it now. What kind of magic was at work here? He looked out over the plants and fungal growths and searched with his soul sight for any sign of a spirited being. He could see any twinkle up to a mile or so into the jungle if there were any.

The lack of order of this placed was an affront to the god of law and incensed Damien. How dare it pretend to isolate itself and act on its own. he would see it subjugated one way or another.

@Gentlemanvaultboy @Wraithblade6

Firebrand was lucky, thought Threek.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
What the hell wa-
Threek got his answer in the form of a giant Squid/frog man fist to the snout, sending him sailing into the distance, as Ozo leaps out of the ground like a whale breaching at mach 1, flying into a wall and again vanishing into the river, before rising to face Firebrand.
"This Amulet is great! I feel..so alive! I'm made up somewhat of magic, so this amulet just..feels wonderful!" Ozo says, seeming as if he had been hopped up on sugar and coke. He jitters, and wiggles, before opening his mouth and pointing.
"Hopinhopinhopin!" He'd repeat, and no doubt, for moving things along, Firebrand would hop in.
It was a smooth ride, save for the sudden lurching of Ozo leaping back into the river. After a few seconds, he arrived near Damien, spitting up firebrand.
"Ok, gotcha, gotcha." He says, smiling, jittering. He had a big goofy smile, and his eyes were clear, rather than cloudy. It was odd, for a being like him.
"..the hell? This place looks pretty damn diddled!" Ozo declares, looking about. "We should be careful, or we will not be the diddlers, but rather, the diddled!" He adds, the amulet affecting his lingo.

The creature facing down Teal'c and his men was of a strange bunch, that much was obvious. He had no idea whether to put stock in their claims, but he was intelligent enough to not simply start shooting without any cause. That would get them nowhere, and Ba'al would not approve of him simply throwing away his life without a chance of success.

"Lord Ba'al has dealt with your kind before," he noted, as a matter of letting the information be known. Not that Teal'c himself understood why, but apparently the Ascended beings known as the 'Ori' would have been a threat at some point. So they had eliminated them before it could come to pass, Undoubtedly the same thing could be applied to these beings.

Yet, he did not go so far as to not give diplomacy a chance. "It appears we are at an impasse. Conflict at this time would serve neither of our interests. We would be willing to cede you occupation of these lands, should you provide something of equal value in exchange." It wasn't like the Goa'uld had settled this territory yet, so they could afford to play nice in their own time.

@Tyki

---

The explanations for why were not so important to the Goa'uld, once it had been understood that there was no hostile action intended. The lack of offensive ship scale weaponry aboard the station, at least as detected by initial scans, removed any worry that the Goa'uld might have had about some sort of deception or treachery, at least for the moment. Whether it lasted, well, they would see.

"Understood," the answer came fairly quickly, after a bit of discussion on their end. "Prepare to be boarded." That would end the communications via radio for the moment, and the Goa'uld gave Martin the time he needed to get set up with any defenses and the like before they decided to drop in their own soldiers.

Several minutes later the Goa'uld would arrive in one of the observation areas, successive flashes of light filling the air, and fading away to reveal a couple men standing there, bodyguards to the man who represented the Goa'uld in this meeting. "I am Soran, of the System Lord Ba'al, Ruler of the Goa'uld Star Empire" he said, even as he took in the place. Well, this was going to be one of the more interesting visits he had had.

@supertinyking

---

The welcoming committee was as one would expect, some Jaffa and a few Ashrak arriving to serve as escorts in case the diplomats tried anything. Admittedly it was doubtful that they could actually stop a Space Marine when it came down to it, but it might buy a few seconds to earn a more forceful response. There was obviously some intimidation, but it didn't stop hem from doing their jobs, pretty important when it came to diplomacy.

It was one of the Ashrak who would speak, as formal as he could be, just as his opposite was. "Lord Ba'al is expecting you. Right this way." He turned on his heels and the other Jaffa took up an escorting position as they moved away from the landing field, and towards one of the more impressive buildings that was nearby. They could have teleported directly there, but ending up in a wall did not seem like proper diplomatic conduct, even for someone you didn't like, so walking it was. At the least it gave the visiting diplomats more time to see the preparations the Goa'uld were making for whatever conflict ended up coming. Though if it hadn't impressed thus far it probably wouldn't now.

Soon enough they entered the building, led down halls towards the meeting spot. Someone had definitely invested a lot of time in this, columns lining the hallways with chiseled runes in them, and lots of gold everywhere. The Goa'uld did like to show off, and it was just like them to use use precious materials for something as mundane as this, even if it had been infused with trinium to keep someone from destroying it too easily. And all along there were Jaffa, paroling, going about their business, a force that could be quickly called upon in times of need.

At last they arrived in the throne room itself, marched through an open doorway into a large room, to find Ba'al waiting there for them. He was seated upon his throne, one that was made to suit his claim as a God without being overbearing, made of gold and with small red domes on the ends of the armrests. Ba'al himself was in more elegant dress, reddish robes, and above him rested his sign, something aimed more at other System Lords than at them specifically. Meanwhile attendants and guards stood off to the sides, ready for his call should he need them.

"Ah, welcome Captain," Ba'al said with a smile as he straightened up a bit in his seat at the presence of the Space Marines, flashing a smile that looked like it was sincere. But with the Goa'uld, who could tell? "I hope that the Imperium hasn't fallen onto too hard of times since the last meeting I had with them."

@thewizardguy

@Flamelord@thewizardguy

Nim couldn't help but enjoy the fact that the creature before him was essentially attempting to bargain for land that was no it's own, but his retort was cut short by a packet burst of information striking him. "it appears this land was deemed unsatisfactory to the creator." Nim states, simply walking away and completely ignoring the creatures now that they were no longer necessary to be interacted with. It took roughly five minutes for him to return and the fortress launch procedures to commence, a great palace of light rising into the sky before slowly hovering over the Atlantic, headed away from japan and towards another island chain in a much more advantageous position; Hawaii. This passing, of course left remnants of the fortress in the soil which burrowed deep so as to continue to monitor the island, the goa'uld slowly regaining communication with the away squad that was left completely ignored by the creature they'd been sent to apprehend.

---

A while later, Alucard finds himself rather suddenly sensing an intruder in his space... or more correctly, he sensed the lack of anything in a swathe of land in his space which was rather disconcerting and slightly pants browning i'm sure.

@Flamelord

When the Gou'ald appear, they find a fluffy creature in a mech suit, armed with a multi-barreled laser weapon of some sort on the shoulder, a large rocket on its back, and a helm that has a sort of cannon on the visor. It's armored, pained red, and grey, and seems to glow with a faint blue aura. It's quite menacing, or so it seems to be, giving off an un-natural intimidation. As well as several large, hulking mechs piloted by AI cubes, small brain like devices, and countless more robotic crewmates, made to help maintain the station All in all, it looked like a sea of metal faces, ready to, no doubt, turn the Gou'ald, into goulash.
"..Hello..." Martin says. "I take it we're not gonna have any problems like the space marines were gonna cause, sending huge boarding torpedoes with no doubt heavily armed troops to kill me, and those I were attempting to save.." He growls. He was weary. Nervous. Paranoid. He felt like these odd humans could too, cause problems just as fast.

@thewizardguy

"Yes, I'm working WITH the Imperium. It is absolutely necessary, do you understand? And this here is Dave, and he's under MY command. I know it's hard to believe..." Mithias tried to explain to Keith what was going on since the destruction of the peace meeting platform, whether Keith decided to come along or not, was up to him.

The vampire and the Blackdragon space marine went back to the ship and Mithias gave the order to go. It wasn't long before the small fleet arrived at the middle of the Atlantic ocean, at the site of the original Tyrannid attack.

"Commander, we have heavy Tyrannid activity in the area."

Mithias looked at the scanners. "He's down there, Dave. I just know it. I just need a way to bring him out. Do we have anything that can penetrate ocean? Anykind of under-water rockets? What about communications?" Hopefully, Dave would have some kind of advice.

@supertinyking@Wraithblade6

Firebrand picked himself up off the dirt, shuttering. He did not enjoy being wet at the best of times, and shook himself mightily before turning to Ozo and holding out his hand. "It's never had much effect on me, but I'd like it back all the same. I have no idea what it could do to you."

He looked around, wondering at the desolation of this place. "Damien, where is this thing we're searching for?"

@Gentlemanvaultboy@Wraithblade6@supertinyking



As Firebrand arrived, he could feel a strange heat on his back. The fragments of the swords, now stored safely on his back, appeared to be heating up for some reason. It was as if they were straining against some powerful force, pushing at them, attempting to break through. In fact he could almost feel an alien presence touch his mind, feeling around it, but unable to find purchase. It pressed against him, and for just a moment, Firebrand was able to see things not quite there. An immense structure, visible even from here, in the centre of the continent. A monolith that pierced the heavens, twisting at impossible angles, freakish pipelines writhing like snakes as they bored into and through the countryside. And yet he got the feeling that these things, while certainly present and definitely real, were also only about half there, placed in a realm underlying reality, a shadowy mirror pressing to push through to this 'side'. Within this dimension, and yet not on the same... frequency, as the rest of this reality. It was a disturbing sight to behold that disappeared as soon as he saw it, the blades having apparently given up on 'dispelling' whatever force was hiding it from sight. Damien himself would notice nothing, beyond the fact that the flow of magic appeared to be disrupted around his devillish ally.

Ozo, meanwhile, was exposed for the first time to the full blast of Australia's aura. It nearly blasted him off of his feat, as if attempting to compensate for it's other failures. A voice blasting full tilt in the back of his mind, filling his thoughts with visions overlaying his own sight. There was nothing here, no reason to stay. He had made a mistake by bringing these two here, and they needed to go back. They needed to go back now. It was overwhelming, lacking the subtle touch that had nearly turned Damien, attempting to simply blow his defences apart and steer him in the right direction. And without any inherent defence, Ozo would soon find himself convinced that his two new friends needed to be sent back to somewhere else. By any means necessary.

@Wraithblade6@Tyki

They appeared, the mortal fools, scrambling over his domain. Mice crawling into the exterminator's home, hoping to find bread among the poison. Led on by ignorance and arrogance, wasting their pitifully short lives on a pointless venture. He had given them seven days, and yet after but one they returned. Perhaps to beg for mercy, perhaps to beg for death. It did not matter, for there was but one end to this, their destiny was set in stone. This would end only in tears and blood. His mercy was wasted, his pity misplaced, his hesitation needless. But perhaps he could enjoy this, before he sent them to oblivion. He would let them make their speech, let them sign their songs, even as they dug their own graves. At the very least he would grant them one last play, one last show, before the end. A final chapter in this little story before the cast withdrew, and the lights went out.

At his behest, the very oceans churned, and the skies trembled. Thick storm clouds rushed overhead in unnatural funnels, and the waves roared up to form great walls of water. Xel'Rath found his great fortress dragged off course as it was battered with winds, dragged towards some distant location by immense walls of wind. A quick measurement would show that these winds could have leveled cities, and any less sturdy vehicle would have been torn to shreds. It was as if a personal super-hurricane guided them to their location, escorting them to the centre of the Atlantic Ocean, over hundreds of kilometers of churning sea. Vast beasts escorted them below the waves, some as big as the fortress itself, some bigger yet. Swarms of creatures no bigger than a human head could be seen, swept along by the twisting streams of air, dark writhing clouds of teeth and claws, flickering in and out of view as the natural world churned around them. Even for a being such as Xel'Rath it would be clear that they had entered the domain of a great power, and that power had taken notice.

Mithias had been provided with a Light Cruiser vehicle, a 300 meter beast armed with a row of laser canons on each side. The ship had been designed to fire boarding pods at possible enemies, as well as equipped with a teleportarium. Effectively it served as a tiny Battle Barge, a small mobile headquarters for the lone company Mithias had been granted custody of. The heavy armour plating all Imperium ships came equipped with was more than capable of surviving the gale winds that dragged Mithias towards the centre of the Atlantic. But it's engines could not resist it's pull, not without pulling some daring and dangerous manoeuvre. Even as the servitors and militiamen aboard scurried around in a frenzy, the thousand space marine battle brothers silently prepared their weapons and armour. All knew that this was Tyranid territory, and that Mithias had most likely sent them to their deaths. But not one would die silent, not one would accept their fate. And they were ready to take as many of the creatures with them as possible.

---

Inevitably, both ships would arrive at Alucard's humble abode at the same time. He had planned to meet them both, and for them to meet each other. It was a rather odd sight. Both ships emerged from their own respective typhoons, battered by the harsh winds that had literally dragged them here for hours on end. What they saw was a vast whirlpool, easily a dozen kilometers across. It gaped beneath them, as if someone had drilled a hole in the planet itself, and the oceans of the world were draining away. The clouds above twisted and turned into a single immense tornado, reaching down to meet the ocean but never meeting the surface of the water. This was where the waters and the winds of the world were gathered, this was the new centre of the world. And rising from the depths was a pavilion, the very pavilion that had once hosted the Arcadian peace negotiations, now held together by twisted organic tissue. It hovered in the centre of this great spectacle of water and wind. Then, a wave of heat exploded outwards, as twin pillars of fire exploded from the centre of the whirlpool, shooting off into the sky. They began twisting and turning, spiraling around the pavilion as it was outlined in hellish flames. And from within the pavilion emerged Alucard himself. Impecably dressed in a fine black suit, red eyes glowing with power, outstretched hands holding twisting the very forces of nature to his every whim. His presence washed over the gathered beings, a wave of fear and servitude. The aura of the king, the Demon's Soul. The power of the Youko concentrated within him radiating outward. To Xel'Rath it would most likely be merely an oddity, triggering long-buried memories of fear from his newly created servants. The Space Marines were well used to such mental meddling, having faced the corruptive forces of Chaos. Most merely gritted their teeth. Mithias, however, would again feel that strange hint of nostalgia, and the urge to kneel before this figure. This God among vampires.

The man of the hour grinned widely, revealing a row of razorsharp teeth. It was all spectacle, of course. But he missed the days when mortals and monsters alike worshipped his every step, and cowered at his mere glance. He was the Lord of Vampires, the most powerful being to ever live. He deserved every ounce of their respect, and every ounce of their fear. But also, he was curious as to how these strangers would react, these odd creatures that had newly arrived on this world. He could tell, for when he had first awoken, there had been no such black spot, something he would surely have noticed.

When Alucard spoke he did not speak loudly. But all present heard him. It was a voice that penetrated steel and spoke to the very soul, a voice that even Xel'Rath could not ignore. "Greetings. You have come to my realm, and intruded upon my ocean. I gave this world seven days, and yet even now you beg for death?" He glanced in mock disapproval at the Imperial vessel. "Courage is the trait of those who overcome their fear to do what they must. Foolishness is the fate of those who ignore their mind to follow their hearts. Tell me, do you come here to challenge me? Or did you merely come here to die?" He then turns to Xel'Rath's massive floating fortress. "And, the stranger! I do not believe I have yet had the pleasure of meeting you, celestial. My name is Alucard, the God of Vampires. And I am the one chosen to cleanse this world of life. Tell me, what does a being such as yourself seek at the heart of the Multiverse?"

@Wraithblade6@supertinyking

"Never mind." Firebrand said, rapidly blinking his eyes to try and shake off the vision. "I think I just saw it." He looked around, trying to find some hint of that insane phantom tower he'd just witnessed. Some disturbance in the earth or disruption of the scarce flora where he'd seen those pipes snaking their way through the land. "Some sort of structure off in the distance. It was trying too..."

Firebrand trailed off, looking at his two companions. He backed up a few steps, trying to keep the both of them in field of vision. "It was trying to get inside my mind." he said slowly, tensing up. "You two feel anything like that?"

@Gentlemanvaultboy @Wraithblade6 @thewizardguy

As Fire-Dio-Brando reaches out for the Talisman, he sees Ozo tense up, and clutch his head, letting out a low scream. "IT'S IN MY HEAD! IT'S IN MY HEAD! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!" He yells, twitching, and almost crying. He sees what the power seeks to do, and it worries him, for he doubts his friends would wish to leave, and he would mayhap try to hurt them! How vile a thought. No, he refused! He would not let this voice take control, but he knew he himself can't....
In the midst of the agony, and the pain of the voice clawing into his mind, Ozo had a spark of cunning. With a wince, he looked to the others. "This..thing...is going to make me try..to..remove you..from here..I..need to eat something..able...to resist...." He grunts, loudly, in obvious pain from the mental strain of resisting. He made his plea, and he hoped his would be friends could help him, somehow. "I grow..and..adapt by eating...energy..or matter....if...need be..cast magic at me to consume, to help bolster myself..against..this....thing..." He grunts, his words growing slower, as the voices gained ground. IT would not be long..not long, at all.

@supertinyking@Wraithblade6@thewizardguy

Firebrand had already reached into the bag and pulled out one of the longer bits of sword when Ozo started screaming. His plan had been somewhat more crude and involved trying to stab someone in the head as gently as possible, so when the fish creature laid out his ability it was something of a relief. "Here, open up!" He said, tossing the forearm length blade toward Ozo's mouth. He reached for another as the first flew through the air, just in case it wasn't enough and he had to go with plan A.

@thewizardguy

While Alucard's storms and monsters were cute they proved little match to the type of material xel'rath's fortress was made up of, the typhoon seemed to be swallowed up more so than battering against the fortress along with any creature attempting to board it as though it had stepped into a black hole. The mark of invitation, however, was not missed so The great, towering hulk of a flying landmass still puttered along it's course while xel'rath parted from the fortress to see what sort of creature would take the time to summon a city-leveling storm just as a mark of invitation. Upon arrival xel'rath's presence provided a mix of comfort and fear as Alucard's supernatural aura was automatically devoured whenever coming near the creature of (ironically) light. It's voice was like any other to xel'rath, simply a voice charged with energy which was like snack cakes to the surprisingly short bird-man-thing when compared to Nim which towered over his surroundings. "I was simply drifting through the cosmos and happened upon this planet. It holds many different forms of living being that i was keen to study, however something more interesting has come to mind, in these creations here so i'm taking some time to divulge in my want for creation rather than destruction, and what brings you here creature? I'm assuming that one such as yourself could entertain it's fleeting existance by building an empire much like these 'goa'uld' did, or is there a reason you've decided to destroy this one in particular?" Xel'rath asks with a casual tone, Alucard's normal intimidation lost on the creature before him as much as his power over it as he could feel himself being sucked into it the more his aura lingered over it, weakening him simply via nature of his being even if it was obviously non-hostile at the moment.