Week 10 - The Heroes of Warmonger's Engine Dimension

Abel Dragonsbane smashed his way through the Son of Morgoth’s defenses. Smashing Marcus Dannor up into the air with a haymaker, Abel shape shifted his muscles to their maximum strength. The Leyas coursed through him, and he cried as for the thousandth time he hurled the broken half of the spear of Salome upward driving it through his enemy’s giant eye and the helm behind it and head of the twisted boy knight who wore it.
Abel fell to his knees then began to weep for the dead spreading out around him.

They went on as far as the eye could see. Ascended Beings and the Fiends of the Ancient Evils, still locked in combat despite their true death. The toll had been horrific, and Abel pushed himself to his feet and stumbled away from the dead Son of Morgoth.
Was this a fate he would have to commit on his own son he wondered for the thousandth time, as he stumbled away, running and finally flying into the sky.

Kincaid flew up next to him, “The Forgotten is destroyed and the Avatar of Warmonger is dead, why are we still here?”

The Olgog’s armor was pitted and scarred. And Abel noticed though he flied, Kincaid’s side was bleeding a trail behind them.

“How are you doing?” asked Abel.

“I’ve been better,” said Kincaid, “Got a tooth from the Maw of the Deep broken off in the wound.”

They saw a golden glowing monk floating above the ground, with seven fiendish swords piercing him from all sides.

They flew down next to Sira the monk, in awe of his restraint.

“You know I am dying,” said Sira calmly, “I will join the great wheel.”

Abel went to draw out the weapons in hopes of healing the monk. As he approached, Sira simply raised his hand and both Kincaid and Abel stopped.

“This all feels like I it has happened before?” asked Sira, “Is this some divine truth?”

“This is the last time,” said Abel without emotion.

Kincaid was about to reply when there was a flash of blue light.

The field of battle was now full. The Greatest of the Ascended and the Descended were here, and a battle royal was about to begin. The only beings missing were Azrael the fallen Falosini and Angel D, Avatar of the Creeping Darkness. Apparently each team got to leave one person on the bench.

A short time later Jeremiah stepped out of the bulk shuttle wearing his power armor, Peace. He was followed by two Havoc and two Bulldog striders. His head still tingled from the memory scan. Hopefully he wouldn't need it but it never hurt to be safe. He tilted his chin and keyed the command band of his radio. "How are the remote units working?" A moment latter he was answered by a wavering voice that sounded vaguely like Jeffers. "Fine Sir all four relays are green. Also Sir, the Captain tells me we're in geo-synch above you so if you need fire support we can provide it."
"Good," Jeremiah answered as he checked his ammo and power feeds for the tenth time. "Every little bit helps." He started off toward the gathering as the shuttle lifted behind him.

As Jeremiah got closer his armor’s enhanced sonic receptors could hear Kincaid whisper.

"Sira, get the Forgotten, If this goes down now it will tear reality a sunder." Kincaid whispered to the monk.

The Warmonger’s Forgotten roared, “It is time for the accounting of the crimes of both sides. Good and Evil, both have used mortals as pawns. Now they may get their vengeance on all of you. Begin”

As Kincaid watched everyone gearing up for the battle royale he said, "I will cover you, just get to the Forgotten and take him down. If he can hold you off or gets the upper hand I have an ace up my sleeve." The Valkyrie captain noted motioning to the bag on his back. "I will buy you the time you need and make sure you can fight the Forgotten unaccosted."

Sira cocked his head to one side and considered Kincaid's plan. How does one attack an ascended being who could control gravity itself? Doing so would definitely waste his chance to attack and banish several fiends. But then again, wasn't Warmongers Forgotten an ascended fiend? Could fiends ascend? What if by virtue of being ascended Warmongers Forgotten was no longer a fiend and was actually doing the Universe's bidding?

At that moment of hesitation Sira heard a voice behind him say, "No this is wrong. Let us not feed the Warmonger with war with battle, with rage and with blood and with death."

"What you want us to stand here and die?" asked Jeremiah.

"No, we must simply defend ourselves," said Abel, "Listen to the song of the Liberation Choir. We must all become one and in that one we must focus on protection not violence."

The Ascended Beings and Ancient Evils both looked at him like he was crazy.
Abel Dragonsbane strode to the front of the battlefield and sat down. He began to quietly ohm, deeply meditating.
Sira the Monk was next and sat down next to him and began to meditate.
Kincaid shrugged and joined them, and moments later the rest of the ascended beings were all sitting and meditating.
The Ancient Evils still stood and the Accuser was the first to say what they were all thinking, "We make big ole targets standing here. Perhaps we will give them the benefit of the doubt."
And soon the Ancient Evils were sitting as well.

The chanting, Ohming, the mantras of the different men and women and their minds joined as one.
The flowing song of the Liberation Choir gave them a melody that their chanting began to harmonize with.

On the Moon of Rynn Lac and on Draco Epsilon 7 there was suddenly a colocalized point.
A valley appeared that was different from the nearby terrain. It was like a bubble on its inside was a view into Warmonger's Engine dimension.
Beams of Energy lanced from the Eye of Morgoth but they were absorbed by the shield surrounding the meditating beings. The Warmonger's Forgotten hurled gravitic pulses that were also absorbed by the shields. Beyond them the Hive King stood roaring his displeasure protected by his own shield, with a sword impaled through his head but still aware.

In that moment there was a rush by forces from across the distant shores. Some to deliver a final blow to hated enemies, but others were going to rescue their allies. Some like Layne Yr had even more inscrutable motivations.

The shadow Satellite released her in space over Ryn Lac. The Nightmare Lord symbiote altered around her into a Black Spacesuit and they fell together towards the planet below. Layne could feel the heat through her symbiote and she passed into the atmosphere and landed creating a crater on the Unity Extension below. Layne used a pair of shadows to get even closer to her target, the bubble in reality. She leapt and held up the crystal shard of the crown of the forgotten. It glowed and she passed into the Engine Dimension.
She was only half Layne Yr now, and she was half Nightmare Lord. And both halves had a score to settle with Warmonger.

That display was witnessed by many including the Uthvelor Seers who were preparing for their own rescue mission.
One of the Seers ran from the meditation chamber, a small dead rodent held in his hands. The Seer ran to Celyse Hajima,
"Honored Zaodonai, I have seen the TRILAT Grand Admiral Layne Yr has bonded herself with the Nightmare Lords and assaulted the Engine Dimension on her own."
"And Garmin Fe?" asked Celyse looking deep in thought.
"He arrives in moments," replied a seer who arrived at that moment.

While Celyse awaited the arrival of her allies, she looked over the small squad of volunteers she’d brought from the plane of awareness. Six brave uthvelor soldiers and two pelebor stood before her. Four of the uth were accomplished terramancers, including her loyal lieutenant Rilath, while the other two were trained blood dancers. Both of the pelebor boasted of troubadour abilities. In addition to their usual arsenal of weapons, all of them wore lever action spring shots over their belts.

“There is a chance we may never return,” Celyse announced to her men days earlier. “I will not order any of you to accompany me, instead I will call for volunteers.”

Many had volunteered, Celyse recalled, far more than she dared take along. There was much uncertainty involved in this mission and bringing too many of her people might ultimately prove burdensome when it came time to escape.

They left fingers back home, as was customary before leaving for war, but Celyse wondered if any would actually be resurrect-able should they fail. She glanced down at the crystal shard and twirled it between her fingers idly as she continued to wait.

When General Garmin Fe arrived, Celyse bowed politely and greeted him as a respected ally.

He gave her the ceremonial bow of a Dra'khan to the respected Warchief of another tribe.

She was pleased to see he knew the old ways, and made the appropriate hand gestures and motioned for him to approach closer than her guards.

"I had heard rumors that a K'iou with Queen Nn'aba's blessing was running Beacon City," said Celyse showing a tattoo that had been marked on her skin showing she also bore Nn'aba's blessing.

Before they had a chance to truly talk, a red bearded K’iou and a dark haired Bastard with a cockeyed grin on his face showed themselves in past the startled Uthvelor.

“You are late, Forge.” Celyse commented.

“Is that how you greet someone whose come from afar to give his life beside you in battle?” Forge responded in admonishment. “And besides, it’s Scout’s fault we’re late. I hope you don’t mind I brought him along.”

“Hello again!” Scout waved. “You didn’t really think I’d let him come without me, did you?”

Celyse cracked a slight smile. “The both of you are a welcome sight. Thank you for coming.”

Forge snorted. “You had me at Warmonger.”

“Will there be looting?” Scout inquired with an innocent expression. “Because I was hoping there’d be some looting.”

“I told you there’d be no looting!” Forge snapped. “Stop wastin' everyone’s time with stupid questions!”

“I doubt there will be an opportunity,” Celyse answered. “However if you require payment I am sure we can come up with something once the battle is done.”

“Nah, I think pissing off Warmonger again will be payment enough.” The bastard said.

“Now you’re stealing my lines,” Forge grumbled.

After they finished their introductions, the Uthvelor Terramancers prepared their crystal shards.

Garmin Fe steps up to the anomaly on Draco Epsilon 7. Looking back on the heroic figures assembled he takes into his hand the available shard fragments of the Forgotten's Crown. Using his knowledge of Earth Leyas he fuses them together and holds the newly formed shard before him. The distorted patterns of the anomaly begin to take a firmer shape and the portal to that reality is opened.

Upon their entry, Celyse lead her people towards the group of meditating prisoners. The Pelebor immediately took to flight and began singing their songs of protections in booming baritones over their allies. Stone walls and scores of withering vines materialized at the commands of the terramancers, separating the prisoners from those that would do them harm.

Celyse nearly stumbled as she noticed a separate attack being led by a very familiar figure.

“Arania!”

The k’iorn woman was busy striking through enemies with a blade that flickered with violet radiance. Her body twisted and changed as she fought but Celyse recognized the woman instantly. She could feel it.

“Mother!” Arania responded as she continued to hold her own. “An unexpected pleasure!”

Celyse could not help but puff her chest out in pride as she admired her child’s bravery and skill, but there was no time for such things. They would have a proper conversation when this was over.

Forge was already in the heart of battle, swinging his two axes around like a k’iou scorned. Scout was beside him in drawing a sword that’s golden hue caused some nearby to hiss. The two of them shouted angrily in the direction of Warmonger’s avatar.

The Warmonger's Dead that swarmed them were lead by a motley assortment of villians including all of Warmonger's old Generals including the Krato Chiathos, and the HiveQueen Havaun, and even the Keltoc Serpent in her K'ias form. They were slamming the Leyas Shields being held up by the meditating beings with enough force that a few of the weaker ascended beings had begun to pass out. The force was being forced into their bodies and while it was draining Warmonger's Power, it was also killing them to do it.

So as Forge's Axes hissing in sweeping arcs towards the Avatar of Warmonger in his imposing Morgothian armor.
"So I hear you are a Morgothian Knight too?" asked Forge, "You know I consider every day I kill a Morgothian a blessing."

The helm was still charged with Warmonger's power and it spoke in a hollow voice, "I know you Forgeling, and you have fed my warmachines bodies of armies. You may not serve me now, but you have...and you will again."

Forge roared with anger and flames leapt off his body as he leapt forward slamming both the Dragon Axe and the Demon Axe, both weapons created by Ascended Beings. Sparks dripped off the Daemonsbane sword's blade like blood, but it held firm against Forge's swing. The Son of Morgoth brought an armored knee up and smashed into Forge's chin which would have snapped the neck of a lesser man. Forge took it on the chin and brought his helmed head forward with enough forge to knock the Avatar of Warmonger into a trap that Scout had prepared while the Avatar had been busy.

The Avatar fell into a net of Zela-wrapped Wire that slipped close around him pinning him for a few moments. Then the Kasanthian Sacrificial sword came forward and Marcus used its serrated side near the crossguard to cut the net.

"Really a net is you best bet?" asked the Son of Morgoth laughing.

Then Scout laughed, "No that the was the one that hurt the least."

The Son of Morgoth stepped on a secondary trap, a thick reed which had an explosive ball bearing it its bottom. It blew the Avatar up into the air in a nearly comic way.

Behind them Garmin Fe of Beacon City, Celyse and her daughter Arania were standing up against a legion of demons who were attacking from all sides. Demonic corpses were piled shoulder high for Garmin Fe by the time he saw the Son of Morgoth launched up into the air.

Thats when Forge and Scout found themselves facing the towering form of Warmonger's Forgotten. Forge didn't quite know what to do, every time he swung his axes at it, the being pulled its flesh back like smoke. Scout found himself doing little better. The Yellow Godsword had no effect on the shifting Nanites that held its form together. Luckily the yellow Godsword kept regenerating Scout when he got hurled backwards by Warmonger's Forgotten's gravitic disruptors.

On the opposite side using her best whipping skills to keep the tides of demons back was TRILAT Grand Admiral Layne Yr.
Layne Yr could see that Scout of the Tsogari was here, and that Forge Havokhammer had shown up just as her mentor, Lurlock foretold.
Now she opened the front of her spacesuit which spread into a wide cone which cast a wide shadow, and from it flew her menter, the Necromancer Lurlock on the back of his Doomwyrm, Blinky. They circled aboved them and then charged down towards the Forgotten. The Doomwyrm's annihilation breath would now be faced with its toughest target.
Layne couldn't wait to see who would win.
Her outfit moved now into a tight set of combat armor, and a black riot shield attached to her arm. The living symbiotic outfit stylishly hugged her hips without giving her any muffin top. It had boning, made of course nightmare lord bone.
And she extended a whip from her outfit, swinging it in a wide arc that bisected a line of charging fiends.
"Oops," she said, "Does killing demons power Warmonger?"
"Yes" said her mentor as Blinky opened his mouth and a cloud of annihilation gusted out making the entirety of Warmonger's Forgotten simply disappeared. Except the crystals that made up the rest of the Forgotten's crown, which sparkled like diamonds as they fell to the ground.

Lurlock stepped down from Blinky's back.
"If it isn't the guys I used to travel with? How are the dogs doing?"

"Eh, we fed them last time we were at Vul's Keep." said Forge.

"Razorback is doing well," said Scout,"And Hob's son Doblin has been playing with the dogs, feeding them and walking them every day."

"Its good to know they are being taken care of," said Lurlock with the closest thing he had to human emotions.

"So are we just going to act like the last few years didn't happen?" asked Forge.

"I was going to say the same thing," growled Blinky.

"You took over the Prison dimension and had to be deposed," said Forge with a shrug, "It was kind of cut and dry."

"And you left me for dead last time we worked together in Kasanth," interrupted Lurlock, "But you also heard about the ranger right?"

"What do you mean?" asked Forge.

Scout guiltily admitted, "The Ranger sacrificed himself to destroy a Morgothian Army."

Lurlock smiled his sunken smile and said, "You forgot to mention him getting stuck in a time loop, forever stuck fighting against Warmonger until the Ranger can figure out a way to truly defeat him."

"you took too much pleasure in saying that," said Forge, "I think I should bust your front teeth out just for sounding happy about it."

"Its the perfect punishment for an eternal goody goody," said Lurlock snidely, "And in that time my apprentice has conquered entire worlds, yes you heard that right Forge, worlds. Systems full of them."

"People on them?" asked Forge, "Because if there are I feel bad for them if your apprentice is anything like you."

"Heh, I thought you'd say that, but she is very different than me," acknowledged Lurlock.

"How is that?" asked Scout, "Different How?"

"She has a fashion sense," said Lurlock, "Damn it, the little brat is late."

"What brat?" asked Forge.

"Armenius," said Lurlock, "The Druids Council had calculated his return at this moment."

"They were off on you too remember Lurlock?" asked Scout.

"Of course I remember that sad excuse for a Druids Council, but since the GodsWar, Hierophiant Cykas has really turned them around," said Lurlock, "They are a competant ruling organization now."

A large shadow loomed over them. While they had been talking, Lurlock, Blinky, Scout and Forge had been completely surrounded. Leading this arm of Warmonger's army was the Krato Ur-King Chaithos, who was in his giant form and over forty feet tall.

Forge looked up and smiled, "Now do demonic giants with acid for blood count?"

Across the battlefield at the only other clearing, where Celyse, Arania and Garmin Fe were fighting together.

"Mother, I'm sorry I should have waited for word from you. When I heard you were entering this deadly place, I could not allow it to happen unless I was here to protect you," said Arania.
"I hardly need protecting my sweet daughter," said Zadonai Celyse, "I am a Major General in the EEF when I am not leading my own people, Arania."
"Then you do not understand what it is we are facing," said Arania.
"I do," said Celyse drawing the Khaz'gha Wood two handed sword she had been bestoyed by Zaodonai Uth in the good years, "Your half-sister Karrah was used to incubate a horrible monster from all reports given in by EEF medics at the scene of her pregnancy. I regret I was not there myself, but I was searching for... you and your siblings, only to find you adults. How I hate these Time Shredders and their grand plans of manipulation, almost as much as I hate Warmonger. Warmonger poisoned the mind of one of my children and Time Shredders poisoned the mind of the other. At least I will get some justice with Warmonger on this day."

A female voice that echoed across the battlefield issued from a strange woman with a mixture of Uthvelor and Da'uhnb features.
She was dressed for battle, with two massive swords the size of girders on her back.
The strange woman pushed her way past demons who backed away from her in fear.
Her eyes blazed with hellfire as she approached, "I am the Saint of Devils, Grey Queen of the Warmonger, welcome to death Grandmother Celyse!"

She dashed towards Celyse, the Saint of Demons clenching her hands and a pair of Fiendish hellguns appeared in her hands.
A look of concern passed Celyse's face.

Only Garmin Fe noticed that the explosion had pushed the Avatar of Warmonger closer to the edge of the shield of the prisoners.
He charged through the horde of demons to bar Marcus Dannor's path. Absorbing Hellfire bolts on his Zela Shield, a gift from his campaigns in Tarris and Makuf, Garmin Fe's life was saved more times than he could count.

Once the dark knight was back on his feet, General Garmin Fe realized this was no boy, but a young man with a deadly living sword.
Marcus hefted the Daemonsbane sword and brought it sweeping down in an arc that cut Garmin Fe's Crystalline hand clean off, sending the hand and the Tarrisian shield skittering away. It passed safely into the field cast by the prisoners.
Another pair of strokes cut through Garmin's armor bit deeply into his chest, threatening to suck his soul from his body. Garmin Fe kicked the Avatar of Warmonger's sword backwards.

With his armor broken and tattered the General's footing is still unyielding. Garmin has drawn a line and he dare not let Marcus Dannor, Son of Morgoth pass. Taking the brunt of the blows upon his augmented arm, the pieces of the finely tuned construct chips and shatters in large crystalline chunks. His broken prosthetic arm now the only defense he has against this foe.

"I will not fight you, but I will not yield to you either. Though I may not strike a blow against you, you shall be defeated Son of Morgoth."

Again, another flurry of blows and with each strike the general parries, with the final parry he launches forward with his might, augmented by Leyas and Technology, to garner a reprieve from the assaults. He literally is forced to hurl the armored knight backwards.

Stripping off the last bits of his armor the general reveals his augmented heart. Reaching in with his better hand he tears it from his own chest. The cold blue shard heart shedding mist from within his palm.

How one could survive and still stand is beyond the comprehension of the enemy. In his own hand, Garmin Fe appears to hold not only the technology that keeps him alive, but is also possessed of his consciousness. Is this the power of self-sacrifice? Is this what the will of a martyr can do for the sake of a greater cause? If that is what this is, then the Warmonger fears not, for he has defeated such wills before, and this will prove no different.

The unrelenting attacks had forced Garmin's augmented arm into nothing more then a splintered nub of crystal. The cloth around the Tarturus Beam had been unveiled when the Golden Nephilim who warded it fell. The eyes of his enemy questioned his ability stand. Knowing full well his will could not hold out forever.

Then suddenly the sky above Ryn Lac was hit by a Wormhole weapon. A swirling wormhole to another timeline hit the planet of Ryn Lac. It blossomed on one side of the horizon and began to change the terrain on the other side of the small protected part of Ryn Lac.

On that side of the sky there was an alien universe, one from a different time line, one that had already been conquered by the Fleets of Fate and defeated Warmonger. Warmonger from our time-line was cojoined in all dimensions, so his power could now flow in reviving his counterpart in the FoF Dimension.

With a planet on each timeline on each side of the Engine Dimension, its battles would power a new age of slaughter, violence, and consuming warfare. The more senseless death the more power the engine dimension could cycle back and forth.

But this was the moment that in exchange for allowing the first transfer of power across timelines, that Armenius had been waiting for. And as it was the Warmonger it required a being with a soul to make the trade of time.

As the Temporal Wormhole passed across the heroes of the engine dimension seemingly harmlessly there was a flash as it passed over Marcus Dannor as he seemed infused with power as the conduit.
He swung the Daemonsbane sword forward to deliver a killing blow to Garmin Fe, and he was struck by a wirey Kiorn Dra'koon dressed in
green leaf-like cloak. The bronze skinned K'iorn quickly disarmed the Son of Morgoth, stepped away with the Daemonsbane sword in his own possession.

This K'iorn warrior had regal bearing and a youthful face but eyes that spoke of aeons. His armor and the crystal sword at his side bore the heraldry of the tribe of Lar'ath, the tribe of the Starfalcon. It was armor of one of the Twin ruling tribes of Children of the Falosini who had been wiped out on the Prison dimension in endless wars against the servants of the Warmonger.

The Starfalcon K'iorn swung the Daemonsbane sword as if he knew it intimately, "Son of Morgoth, I thought we had worked out our differences."

"I don't know you," rasped the man in the helm bearing Warmonger's Eye, now more slave to its desires than his own.

"Really," said the K'iorn, "If I knew it wasn't the honorable Goan Starsmith, Son of Morgoth, I'd kill you right now."

"Then know I am not that imposter, that pretender to the throne. That changeling child, switched after my father was secretly deposed in a coup de'etat," said the voice of Marcus getting stronger as his anger focused him past the haze of the ancient evil's power.

The Eye beam fired, and the Ranger deflected it back into the helm's eye. Its power was intense, knocking it back off the head of the young Marcus Dannor in a single blast. The helm hit the ground between the angry young man and Garmin Fe, while the K'iorn stalked closer extending a claw that had been woven into the vine harness of Nnghai ceremonial wristblades.

"You should recognize this one Eye, even if the boy you tricked into working for you doesnt. Its from one of the Claws of Warmonger. Cut them off, had them treated by a Necromancer, and prepared them as Nnghai just so I could pick apart your eye. But Armenius found me repeating time, and offered me a trade. I get an eternity here with Arania, and you get sucked through the time loop I just enjoyed!"

The K'ion struck a few more hits to leave the boy on the floor breathing heavy and far away from the Eye. Then he saw a pair of Warmonger's Dead charging at Scout and Forge. They had their heads plucked from their shoulders too fast for the hands gripping their magi cannons to notice so they never fired a shot.

A k’iorn man leapt valiantly into the fray beside Forge and Scout with a crystalline sword gripped in his hands. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long!”

“Eh, ranger?! Where the hell have you been!” Forge shouted as he sliced the creature before him in two.

“I have been away on some important business,” he responded, his blade already coated with ichor and gore.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t write…” Scout scolded.

“But I always come back.” The ranger announced, his gaze shifting to Arania. Their eyes met briefly, both of them blushing slightly despite themselves and the current situation.

This exchange did not go unnoticed by Celyse.

“Your aid is greatly appreciated,” the uth warchief called out.

“I will assist how ever I can, good Zaodonai,” he responded. “I would never turn my back on a just cause!”

“I do not believe I received your name last we met.”

“Now is hardly the best of times for introductions, but I will concede with your request Zaodonai. My name is…”

An explosion of fire knocked them off their feet and sent them sprawling in different directions. Celyse landed with a pained grunt, but managed to pull herself back up quickly. Her eyes darted around, checking on the conditions of her companions. Forge was shaking his head and drawing a large hammer from his back. Scout snarled savagely as his fingers began to grow into dagger-like claws. The ranger stood over Arania, defending her from attack while their enemies drew closer.

None of them appeared to be dead.

Yet. Celyse motioned to her Terramancers who began creating a makeshift fortification around them and around the prisoners defending them. But the battle had driven her away from the Avatar of Warmonger and towards the many dangerous generals who served the Warmonger.

Forge hurled himself towards the giant Chiathos, using the Havokhammer to smash both his giant kneecaps and maim him enough to force him back out of the fight.

Scout put a pair of thrown ball bearings cleanly through a pair of Warmonger's dead trying to snipe at Forge.

Celyse and Arania, now with the aid of the ranger created a flurry of strikes able to drive back the attacks of the Saint of Devils.

Through the wormhole that was already passing moments from the edge of the bubble that protected them all, stepped a young boy of fourteen dressed in blue robes. He hefted a cannon that was far too familiar to Garmin Fe. It was an exact copy of his own Tartarus Cannon, at the front of it was a sample of the Crown of the Forgotten, and at the rear was the orb whose surface seemed black but at times burned with purple flames inside. It was the Armenius Orb that once held Warmonger.
A concentrated beam that hit the Eye of Warmonger ignoring the tip of an arrow of null that pierced it, and began to pull the spirit of Warmonger into the orb. Armenius said, "Now Dra'khan Fe, Now!"

Fearing his power stolen, Marcus Dannor was up and charged over to Garmin Fe drawing the Sacrificial Sword of Kasanth, wielded by his own Grandfather into battle. The sword dipped down and pierced at Garmin Fe keeping him away from his own Tartarus cannon.

Layne Yr had gotten a nearly prophetic moment accomplished and leapt onto the battlefield finally revealing herself. From a shadow cocoon she pulled her cursed Khaz'gha wood spear and charged the side of Warmonger's Avatar. But it was not to wound him. It was so Layne Yr could attempt a disarm and failing that open him up to Garmin Fe's attack with the Tartarus Cannon. If she could be a part of the imprisonment of Warmonger, her legend would be cemented forever.

Finally, the heroic move on the part of the admiral had left an opening. Taking the melded pieces of the crown and jamming it into missing section of the Tarturus Beam caused a chain reaction within the device.

Garmin was weaker now, near to death. He felt his strength fading. With his remaining strength he grasped his shard heart from the ground and placed it within a receptacle attached to the nose of the cannon. With the help of his allies they hoisted the cannon, and Garmin aimed high.

What Marcus Dennor didn't know was that Garmin had not attached his own consciousness to the stone. There, at the nose of the beam was the original sample, the original crystal technology that all of Garmin's work was based off of. He was never allowed to join with it in mind, only in life. For what nobody had known aside from Garmin himself, was that the stone was already occupied, and its host allowed room for only one more. A consciousness that had waited eons for this moment. Guiding each step till this moment in time had been reached. It was a tiny bit of the K'ias flesh of Mar'un'ga who was possed by Warmonger. Like all K'ias flesh it was maleable. Any many a K'ias bodypart had been forged into weapons near the end of the K'ias Wars by the Conquering Children of the Falosini.
It was a tiny bit of K'ias Flesh that had been exposed to Demonic energy and recoiled changing into a living crystalline mass.
This original bit of living crystal had been left to lead Garmin Fe down this path by the only ascended being who was not present Lord Azrael.

The beam fired and Garmin's grip on the cannon faded. His eyes closed and...

Now It formed the perfect circuit with the larger section of flesh that had been used to forge the Armenius orb. And they were driven by the time distorting powers of the Hearts of the Forgotten that had been exposed to Ar'yay HiveQueen's entire' Hive's Rage.
There was a painful, audible pop that left every living soldier on the battlefield on their knees. In that moment all of the Warmonger's Dead, Fiends of Warmonger and Generals of Warmonger disappeared.

The boy Armenius looked tired as he walked over to the dying body of Garmin Fe. He leaned down and whispered, "Thank you for your help. I have to take this to the past. I am sorry, I cannot give you a new shardheart. Instead I can only do this for now."

Armenius lifted the shardheart pulling it out of the original Tartarus Cannon and placing it back in the gaping wound. Armenius placed his hands on Garmin Fe's chest and poured a small bit of his own life force into the wounds binding them. Garmin Fe began to stabilize, and Armenius motioned for Garmin Fe's apprentices.

"Take your General home, he needs a rest. He has done a great thing today," said Armenius, "Take the Crystal shards of the Crown from the rear of the General's Tartarus Cannon, and bring them back to the Beacon City Well of Radiance and place the Shards of the Crown in the Well. As long as it remains in the well, the Warmonger will be trapped in the time loop.

But now I must leave you have your own problems to deal with, and I must round up the rest of Warmonger's General's and their forces throughout time and add them to this prison."

There was a flash as Armenius disappeared in a flash of blue light.

That was When the last three of Warmonger's Generals present began to howl in pain. It was obvious the psychic pulses were coming from the Hive King who had been busy in a trance.

continued in And Quiet was brought to the Fleet of Fate