Sorry that this took so long… I've developed a writer's block and just got over it. Anyhow, thanks for your patience!

Chapter 2: Algammon the Dreadlord

It was morning at Luthius' pocket cosmos as the Great Light rose, shining upon the vast forests, dotted with rivers and lakes and small patches of grassland. Luthius had been a natural person when he was still mortal, and kept that personality with him when the Ultimate God granted him the powers of a cosmo-crosser. As part of the gift, the Almighty Lord gave Luthius and his wife Aerye a pocket cosmos, one that they could call as "home". It was a simple universe, consisting of only a forest that seemed to stretch forever into the horizon. However, it was already good enough for Luthius and Aerye, for they needed little else.

The light shone through the thick canopy and onto the bushy grounds. It was there Algammon the Dreadlord seek for his breakfast.

The bush rustled a little as Algammon crept through, guided by his nose and following the scent of living flesh, careful not to make any noise from his hoofs. The light brightened as the layer of leaves thinned, and the Dreadlord stopped. Slowly, he stuck his head out of the leaves and twigs, taking care not to let his long horns on his head to make too much noise from rustling leaves. His red eyes glared forwards directly at a sheep grazing with her companions at her side. Algammon's mouth curved into a smile, revealing little of his long fangs. He opened his mouth to lick his sharp teeth in hunger as he focused his mind on casting a spell on his prey. His victim dropped instantly lifelessly onto its side.

Algammon leaped from his hiding place, revealing his topless pale-white body and his long, black pants. The heart-shaped crystal, hanging onto the neck, swung left and right in front of his chest. His large, bat-like wings on his back spread out wide. The sheep, frightened scattered everywhere, leaving behind their fallen friend. The Dreadlord came up to his seemingly lifeless sheep and kneeled down. Instead of sinking his sharp teeth in the vulnerable neck, however, he put his finger onto the pulse of the sheep, which he found was still beating calmly. He then reached for the bag that he had been wearing at a side, and took out his equipment: a syringe, a short rope, a sealed bag with a plastic tube, and a pen.

He felt under the fluffy foreleg of the sheep, and pulled out a tag from the wool. "12th October, 0019" it read. That was the last time Algammon had taken the blood from the same sheep. had been half a year ago. Algammon smudged the date and wrote down a new date, "13th May, 0020". He then tied the rope tightly onto the upper part of the sheep's right foreleg. In less then a second, blue veins appeared under the white, tender skin. Algammon inserted the syringe into one of the veins with a physician's precision. Normally, that would wake the sheep, but for some reason it did not. He pulled and syringe, and the syringe was filled with blood. Then he removed the syringe, but leaving the needle behind. He quickly connected the needle with the plastic tube of the bag, and soon hot, flesh blood flowed through the tube into the bag. Not wasting any drop, Algammon aimed the needle-less syringe towards his mouth, and injected the blood into it. The taste of blood brought some pleasure, but the fact that the sheep was still alive all that time pleased him more.

It did not take a long time before the bag was full of blood. Algammon took out a cotton and pressed it onto the needle before slowly pulling it out. He knew that very soon the sheep would wake up, thus he kept the cotton onto the small wound only for a second before fleeing, taking away all his equipment and his bag of blood.

Not long after Algammon's departure, the sheep awoke. Puzzled, she wandered off to look for her friends.

***

The same procedure had been used for the past twenty years of the young Algammon's life, and he was glad that his foster father, Luthius, taught him that. Even being brought up under the ways of the Ultimate God, Algammon could not resist his Nathrezim biological needs. As a vampiric Dreadlord, he needed to drink blood to survive, or else perish in starvation. However, both Algammon and Luthius could not bear the thought of killing innocent living creatures to satisfy the thirst for blood. When he was young, Luthius always collected the blood for him, and Algammon often wondered how until he reached he was about fifteen, when Luthius taught him to use syringes to collect an amount of blood without killing the animal. Algammon took this a step further. By casting the sleep spell on his target, Algammon could avoid frightening the poor creature.

Algammon settled himself at the foot of a tree, and pulled the tube away from the bag. Warm, red blood began to flow out of the small opening. Instantly, he held the bag to his mouth, and began to suck his breakfast from it. He drank hungrily, not wasting a drop. He stopped drinking and leaned his head on the trunk when he had finished half the bag, letting out a small sigh of relaxation and smiled to himself. Meals were supposed to be enjoyed, and Algammon did not wish to finish it too soon.

He was just about to finish his breakfast when he heard a familiar sound from nearby. It was a faint, metallic screeching sound. Alerted, Algammon took out a small stop from his bag, and plugged the small opening of the bag. He leapt up, his red eyes glared at the trees and bushes around him.

A sudden rush of air was all Algammon needed, and he quickly turned to swing his left fist at his attacker up to down. There came the sound of meat smashing metal as the fist hit. As his whole body turned, Algammon swung the other fist slightly diagonally at his attacker with a loud whoosh, which forced him to retreat in an inhuman speed. This was the "Swinging Fist", a simple yet deadly move, if used properly. Had the opponent been half a second slower, Algammon would instantly knock him unconscious, if not smash his skull in.

The intruder looked like a tall, thin teenage boy, yet not exactly human. Topless, the exposed metal ribs on his chest screeched as they scratched with each other when the chest heaved up and down for each breath. His long, right arm consisted of golden metal plates bolted together at the joints, where black muscles could be seen. His right hand had long, metal fingers, at the end of which were sharp edges that could slice through the hardest metal. Half of his head and a part of his impassive face was stripped of skin, revealing the metal underneath with all the linear joints and bolts. His other half of the scalp grew short, bristly hair. His right eye was no more than a large red light in the metal socket. Large boil-like tubes bulged out of the skin here and there in his legs.

This was no human at all. This was a Mekinese from the cosmos of Mekina.

"You must have been practicing, Algammon. Your skills are intact," his voice was completely neutral, devoid of any emotions or feelings.

Xiburg had first come to visit his old friend Luthius when Algammon was six. The Dreadlord could still remember the time when they met. Algammon was bathing in the river when he heard loud bangs and splashes of water. When he approached the source, he found Xiburg practicing the "Iron Palm"- a move so powerful that the force of the palm itself could travel at a distance. At that time Xiburg practiced the move standing in the river bank, his palms never touched the water while the force of it splashed it to about five meters high. Since then, Algammon had been learning martial arts from the Mekinese, though even now Algammon had only managed to make small splashes with his Iron Palm.

Algammon relaxed and stood. "I can hear you a mile away." He took out his bag of blood and opened it to drink. "You are no good for playing hide-and-seek."

Algammon smiled at his little joke, but the look on Xiburg was still impassive. "I depend on speed," he said as Algammon finished his breakfast, and they began to wander around the forest.

"So when did you find the time to see me, Xiburg?" Algammon asked. "The last time when I came to your Portal Gate you're just too busy to even speak to me."

Xiburg looked at him. "The Gate is now almost complete," he said. "It will be fully operational at fourteen hundred hours. There will be a opening ceremony then."

Since Xiburg was not a cosmo-crosser, to travel across worlds he had to rely on Portal Gates, those red, large gates that opened a silvery circle of a portal. Theoretically, one was already enough to open a gate between two cosmos. However, it took a lot of effort for a Portal Gate to force-open a portal in the destination point. By having another Portal Gate in the destination, the amount of energy needed would decrease tremendously.

Algammon waited a while before the idea sank in. "That's good…" he muttered. "That's very good, indeed. You'll have no reason not to visit me, Xiburg!"

"I've got an entire cosmos to govern," said Xiburg. "Not to mention spying on the Burning Legion."

The Burning Legion was one of the prime targets of the Mekinese spies, and Xiburg obtained intelligence from the Twisting Nether. However, the Nathrezim, one of the soldiers of the Legion, was also the prime interest of Algammon. Luthius once warned him, "Their culture is dark and evil, Algammon. You will not want to know what they really are." That was an answer that Algammon refused to believe, so he turned his attention to Xiburg, who told him that the Nathrezim was once a major force of good, and was willing to offer him information about the Nathrezim from time to time. From that point on, Algammon's mind was filled with his fantasies about the Nathrezim.

"Speaking of the Burning Legion…" Algammon said, his interest once again aroused.

"The latest significant news about them is their second failure in their invasion against Azeroth."

"They failed again?" asked Algammon thoughtlessly. "What about the Dreadlords?"

"Their leader Tichondrius was murdered by Illidan Stormrage the Demon Hunter."

"Damn," muttered Algammon. "To think that he was the most powerful of them all! No wonder why the Nathrezim lost."

Xiburg ignored his remark. "Some of the Nathrezim managed to escape back into the Twisting Nether. Others were scattered across Azeroth."

Algammon took a deep breath. "Well, thanks, Xiburg. Did you just said that the ceremony will be in the afternoon?"

"It will be held at fourteen hundred hours."

"Thanks," Algammon waved goodbye to his friend. "See you later!"

Xiburg only nodded as Algammon spread his wings and leapt into air.