Disclaimer: I don't own Slayers or any Marvel-related characters
Gourry. Jillas. Gravos. Amelia. Children of the atom, Outcasts, MUTANTS - feared and hated by a world they will soon have to protect. These are the STRANGEST heroes of all!
Chris Oddland presents: The Uncanny Slayers
Chapter 2: Brave New World.
On the outskirts of the rebuilt capital of the kingdom Xoana, lies a lone big mansion surrounded by a very large and long school gate. It is Professor Charles Xavier's newly opened school - The Xavier Institute For Higher Learning.
Inside this building are five of the most unlikely recruits this world had ever seen.
The shouts of, "YOU? " were suddenly echoing around the X-Mansion.
Gourry, Amelia, Gravos and Jillas were startled by seeing familiar faces around them. Darkspear was just confused.
"You know each other?"
While all four of them had parted as friends after the incident with Valgaav, Gourry did still bear a small grudge towards Jillas for stealing his Sword of frickin' Light.
All five of them were now wearing costumes composed of black leather. The only problem with those costumes were all the yellow X symbols on them. Even their belt buckles had an X on it. Jillas wore a black leather trenchcoat instead of the standard jacket.
The person who designed these probably had a very, very, very overblown ego problem. The leather clothes were nice though (even if they all had the urge to peel away all the X thingies on them).
"Ceiphed!" Amelia swore. "I suddenly feel like a stupid action figure right now!"
"You and me both, Amelia."
"Shut up, Jillas!" grumbled Gravos while feeling quite ridiculous wearing a leather jacket and leather pants.
"Actually it gives a certain militant look" pointed out Gourry. "Like it's us against the world."
Darkspear remained silent through the whole conversation, deeming it best to keep his mouth shut. He liked the uniforms.
Amelia took a good look at Gourry and said, "You look like hell, Gourry Gabriev."
"Same can be said about you." replied the mercenary humorously to his friend.
To be honest both of them didn't exactly look that well. Gourry was in need of a shave, looking quite unkempt despite his new clothes. He did also seem to have recovered from a serious hangover. Amelia on the other hand had some scars covering her face and lacked a few teeth, and she seemed more serious than before.
"I've had worse, old friend. You should see the scars covering my body if you think my face looks terrible."
"You've been busy, I see." Gourry said.
"Excuse me?" interrupted Gravos. "But what exactly happened to you two?"
"We had a little falling out with Lina and Zelgadis, and we split up." answered Amelia bitterly.
"So you guys actually disbanded?" questioned Jillas to the two humans.
"Yes!" growled Gourry. "Can you please stop talking about that backstabbing wench of a sorceress and that backstabbing dog of a chimera!"
"Looks like they've touched a sore spot there." commented Darkspear to Gourry.
"You stay out of this!" shouted Gourry to the half-orc.
"No need to be so bloody angry, sir!" Darkspear simply responded. "I didn't mean to insult you at all!"
"He's not mad at you, Mr. Swordaxe. He's just blowing off some steam and so on..." Amelia explained in a sour tone. "Lina and Zelgadis hurt us some time ago, and both of us still have trouble dealing with it."
"If it hurts to talk about it, then I won't ask any more about them," said Jillas as seriously as he could.
They spent the rest of the time marvelling at the technology that was contained in the mansion's living room. Almost everything surpassed the technological levels that existed around the world. And the most interesting fact was that none of these things were powered or created by magic.
"Look at this funny box!" said Darkspear, while prodding a box-shaped object with a glass-like window.
"What is it?" asked a curious Jillas.
"I don't know, but let's find out."
The foxman and the half-orc began touching the weird object and began to push a few buttons that seemed to stick out. Suddenly the window began to project images.
It showed a man being eaten by a mermaid with very sharp teeth. The poor man's throat was torn open by the she-creature's savage fangs. He did seem to scream before he died though.
"Ouch!" commented Amelia. "Poor guy!"
Suddenly the screen images were replaced by something different.
This time it was the intrigues in a noble court and the various conspiracies against each other. A pair of nobles were turning quite blue and purple from drinking the rare wine spiced with a rather exotic poison that began to slowly strangle them.
Amelia turned green at the sight, remembering the few horrible incidents at the Seyruunian court where poison was used. Some poisons were even resistant to Dicleary. Some of her relatives were killed that way in their internal struggle for the throne of Seyruun.
Gourry held a hand-sized black object that had many tiny buttons on it.
"What?" he said as the others began to stare at him. "It was just lying there on that table."
"Let me try!" said Jillas as he grabbed the object out of Gourry's hand and pressed another button.
This time the screen showed a mad scientist reanimating something which looked like a patched up flesh golem. Something he shouldn't have done since his creation began to wreck the laboratory and smash the madman to a rather bloody pulp.
"Now this is beginning to get interesting," commented the foxman and began to push several buttons, resulting in that the screen flipped from image to image, scene to scene.
"Stop that!" growled Gravos and seized the object from his friend and former subordinate. "My head gets dizzy from all the weirdness that that thing is broadcasting.
"Does anyone know how this thing works?" asked Darkspear.
He shouldn't have said that as this innocent question triggered Jillas' curiosity towards anything that had to do with technology.
"Let's find out," the foxman said.
"Are you certain that these people can help us?" Elisabeth Braddock asked Professor X.
"I am certain that they are up to the task, Elisabeth." replied Charles as they travelled towards the living room.
"You shouldn't be so sceptical of these people, Betsy," commented Neal Shaara to his purple-haired companion. "We've all been rookies in the past."
While Neal still considered himself a rookie compared to the more experienced members of the X-Men, he had still managed to be of some help to the team in his short time as an X-Man. Possessing the power to generate solar plasma he was himself a force to be reckoned with. The main problem was that he was in many ways a pacifist, not actually wanting to inflict any harm upon people. There were incidents where he used his power against the bad guys to help the others, but only to "subdue" them.
But there was one thing he never expected, that he would actually get into a relationship with Psylocke, one of the most experienced combat members in the X-Men.
When he first met her, she was in a relationship with Warren Worthington III, code-named Archangel, and it seemed that they got along quite well. On the surface at least.
It came as a shock to him when he discovered that they had broken up due to several incidents that had occurred. And he felt that he was somehow responsible for that, even if Betsy had told him many times afterwards that he wasn't to blame for that.
Probably because she didn't like that Warren was in fact trying to make her act like Jean Grey in their relationship. And that little incident where Warren's jealousy got the better of him. Personally he couldn't understand why Warren wanted to mould Elisabeth in Jean's image. Shouldn't people accept each other as they were?
It was rather weird to be the lover of a former British telepath, stuck in the body of a Japanese ninja, now a telekinetic action junkie. He would never admit it, but he seriously thought that the red tattoo covering the left side of her face was in some ways a little cute and in other ways strange.
She never really told him the details of how she got that Crimson Dawn tattoo, but the various pieces he put together suggested an ugly incident with Sabretooth and some kind of dimensional adventure with Warren.
Neal wished that he had the opportunity to meet Douglas Ramsey, code-named Cypher. Having heard of him from Betsy, he felt that maybe Doug would have been someone to talk to when it came to discussions about the feeling of uselessness in various situations. They would probably have understood each other a lot in some ways, knowing that Doug had problems accepting that his powers didn't give him a combat advantage and that he was forced many times to remain in the background, he on the other hand had qualms about harming other people, many times making him a nuisance to the other members. Most likely they would have envied each other. He would envy Doug for having a power that didn't harm others, and Doug would envy him for having a power that made him useful in fighting super-powered bad guys.
Sadly from the reports he had read, Doug died when he saved Wolfsbane from the Ani-Mator. It was one of the beginning factors of the many tragedies that gradually shaped the New Mutants into the more ruthless X-Force.
Betsy didn't show it to anybody, but Neal knew that she missed Doug, even if she wouldn't openly admit it to anyone.
Their relationship probably wouldn't be a long-term one, but it was nice to have someone to talk to when he felt that he didn't fit in the X-Men. Both of them could spend hours discussing former relationships, adventures and other various topics that concerned them at the time.
Suddenly he stopped in his tracks.
"Um, Betsy?"
"Yes, Neal?"
"Is it just me or have the newcomers just dismantled the telly?"
Having just arrived at the living room, Professor X and Psylocke halted their conversation and turned their heads towards where the newcomers were.
The one-eyed foxman had taken the TV apart with a screwdriver and was studying the various components inside it with the others. Luckily he had pulled out the extension cord before opening it, so that he didn't get electrocuted.
"This is really interesting." Murmured Jillas, holding an electrical component in his hands.
"What does this thing do again, Jillas?" asked Gravos while studying another part.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING!" roared a angry voice behind them.
All of them turned around and saw a very attractive purple-haired oriental woman with a strange red tattoo on the left side of her face glaring furiously at them accompanied by a bronze-skinned man that also seemed to come from an unknown country and the man known as Charles Xavier.
"What in the world possessed you to take apart the television!"
"So that's what they call that box-thingie," the foxman said.
"Yes! And now you've destroyed it." She added sourly.
"I wouldn't say that," answered the green/grey-skinned half-orc smilingly.
As he finished the sentence, the various parts strewn on the floor began to rise in the air. The parts being held were snatched out of the hands of Gravos and Jillas. Some of the parts hovered in front of the TV, while others circled around it. As if by magic the parts were placed piece by piece into the places they originally lay and fastened securely. After everything was in order, it seemed that nothing had ever happened with the TV.
"It's been a long time since I've done that!" Darkspear panted, his body covered in sweat.
"You're a telekinetic?"
"Yes, madam; but usually I never indulge myself in the manipulation of tiny matter. It's too straining for some reason…"
While Betsy Braddock wasn't surprised by the demonstration of telekinesis, she was in fact surprised that the half-orc was speaking with an accent somewhat similar to hers. In most fantasy literature she had read, orcs were quite coarse, stupid, evil and most of the time generic cannon fodder for the heroes of the story. This guy was quite unusual for what was considered the norm of Orc 616. But considering the thought that three of the recruits weren't human, she didn't bother quite that much in details. The X-Men and its European counterpart Excalibur had in the past had members that were non-human. Longshot and Cerise were good examples of that; she also remembered the techno-organic alien Warlock who had been a member of the New Mutants before his death and had been Doug's best friend.
"Let's get down to business," Gourry said, addressing both Professor X and the two accompanying him. " Just what in Ceiphed's name do you want us to help you with!"
"To be blunt," Charles Xavier began. "Certain students of mine have been abducted……again. And I want your help in freeing them from whoever is holding them captive."
"You said 'again'," implied Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun. "Do you mean that they get kidnapped on a regular basis?"
"You could say that." Commented Betsy sarcastically. "But we have gotten used to it in a way since we usually after numerous hardships, inhuman torture, trading insults and all that, manage to escape."
(Ceiphed's scales! What in the world have I gotten myself into?) Amelia mentally sighed. (At least they are sincere about it.)
"So we're actually their temporary stand-ins?" asked Gravos.
"I wouldn't actually say 'stand-ins'," Psylocke interrupted. "I would rather calling it recruiting emergency X-Men for a serious rescue operation."
"X-Men?" was Amelia's confused answer. At least it sounded better than the names of other groups she had ever encountered - like those posing musclemen who had a Clair Bible manuscript in their hoard.
"Let's just cut to the chase!" Jillas interrupted. "First we rescue your 'X-Men' and then we can begin ethical debates!"
"He's got a point," Gourry said. "None of us at the moment are really interested in debates and such - Let's just get the job over with!"
"Couldn't have said it any better, Gourry." Amelia interjected.
"Fine with me!" said Darkspear.
Charles Francis Xavier was now contemplating if it was really such a good idea to gather these people. He immediately regained his composure.
"It all began two days before when I detected the presence of a powerful entity in the Kataart Mountains in the kingdom of Dills. People in the vicinity of the mountains were mysteriously disappearing without a trace. The X-Men were sent to investigate it."
"And as usual, we were caught in an ambush." Continued Psylocke sarcastically. "Only me, Thunderbird and Bishop managed to escape. The rest were captured. And while the two of us were barely hurt, Bishop was badly wounded during our retreat."
She gave them the signal to follow her while walking towards a corridor. They followed her and ended up in the mansion infirmary. On a bed lay dark-skinned man with an M-shaped scar on his face connected to life-support systems. All of them saw that he bore the marks and scars of a seasoned warrior and survivor.
"We were attacked by a wizard named Shing Luu, a wizard from Khitai." Neal said, pushing a few buttons on a metallic panel and activated a giant monitor that began to project the image of a man.
The man was of oriental origin, wearing a flowing black robe woven of Khitan silk and decorated by images of strange dragons without wings. His aged face was marred with the wisdom, knowledge and cruelty of a cynic having unveiled the cosmic truths not meant to be known by any mortal being, and still miraculously survived but scarred for eternity. His hair was dark and long as well as his dark beard and moustache.
"I hate Khitan sorcerers," Gourry muttered, remembering the times the Elmekian army tried to invade and conquer lands in the far east, and how the powerful wizards of the east summoned horrors from the stars that made most mazoku pale in comparison and struck down by horrible plagues conjured by magic. He remembered how that arrogant officer of noble birth had thrown away the lives of many of those forced to serve in the penal regiments of Elmekia and how he and the men in his unit were almost driven mad by what they saw on the battlefield. They felt a lot better when they returned to the camp and threw the now "tongueless" dog of an officer into a pit full of venomous serpents. He himself had wielded the knife.
He didn't regret it. He remembered the orders to attack without any regard to tactics and formation as if the people in the penal regiment were nothing more than animals, expendable to the cause. He remembered one of his friends who survived the attack, driven to madness - and how they were forced to kill him when he attacked in a rage only madness could create.
Amelia ignored Gourry's comment as she studied the face of her enemy. As a child she had read books in the royal library about the ancient empire of Khitai that lay somewhere in the far east; she had read about a culture different to hers in many ways possessing knowledge and wisdom that made the wizards and sorcerers of Atlas City seem like mere ignorant children. She read about science discovered long before the people of her continent had the same idea.
Ironically she and her father had been tutored in the art of unarmed combat by a traveller from Khitai. He had been a mild-mannered man in his middle years, and enjoyed travelling and exploring places.
He had told her many tales and legends from his faraway homeland. About terrible wizards residing in enclosed towers protected by dark sorcery; about heroes fighting for just causes; the splendour and the dark sides of the ancient civilization; about poverty and oppression; people abusing their power.
He had taught her much before he went away, and she remembered the macabre tales told. How wizards brooded in towers, practicing their dark arts and tormenting the innocent as tyrants.
"It is in our belief that he is trying to perform some sort of ritual, using the life-force of living people to fuel it." Psylocke continued as the display screen now shifted to the images of corpses. The corpses seemed as if they were dried out, as if something had slowly sucked the life of them, their eyes and mouths revealing last moments of inhuman pain before dying. "We don't know what it is, but seeing from the enormous pile of dead people, we're talking about something big.
Jillas who was used to acts of cruel violence was repulsed by this. He never liked magic, even though Lord Valgaav and Gaav themselves made use of it when it was needed. Gaav being an amalgam of human and mazoku due to the curse laid on him by the Water Dragon King over a thousand years was immune to most of the weaknesses of the mazoku, now being able to use weapons and channel magic to an extent like a human without ever fearing for that it would damage and weaken him like most ordinary mazoku. Valgaav was on the other hand an Ancient Dragon who had been turned into Gaav's general, replacing the post of his former general Rashart who with the priest Ralthark were destroyed in the War of The Monster's Fall, becoming an amalgam of dragon and mazoku.
"This doesn't look good," the one-eyed foxman muttered.
A hand was lain on his shoulder. "Believe me, I've seen a lot worse in my time."
"What are you talking about, Gourry?" Amelia asked him.
"A failed mercenary job a few months before meeting Lina," Gourry explained, " me and some mercs came over a hidden temple dedicated to some dark and alien gods where we found the corpses and remains of people sacrificed for a ritual meant to summon something from an abyss to conquer a backwater kingdom. Most of them had already been sacrificed on the blood-stained altar of the God That Time Forgot. We freed the remaining prisoners and killed the cult operating from the temple, but we were unable to stop the high priest from chanting the last words that opened some kind of portal, even if I cut his spinal cord with my sword. Some kind of monster came out of it and began slaughtering anyone inside the temple. We were then forced to burn the temple to the ground with the thing still inside it after it had butchered almost everyone.
"That doesn't sound like one of your average adventures with you know who?" Jillas responded.
"Why didn't you use the Sword of Light?" Gravos asked.
"Didn't have it with me at that time. I hid it somewhere safe to prevent someone from stealing it before taking that mission." Gourry replied.
"Who was it?" Gravos asked.
"Someone you would never wish to meet in person." The mercenary replied.
"In fact while we normally never get involved in occult matters, preferring to leave that job to other specialized groups," Charles Xavier continued, "There have been incidents where we are forced to act against adversaries utilizing magic."
A few hours later the SR-71 Blackbird arose from the hidden hangar, propelled by its modified rear thrusters with a speed that until now was regarded as impossible by the newcomers.
Jillas stared in awe as the Blackbird soared through the air, marvelling at how someone could make a vehicle composed of metal that could soar through the air faster than the speed of sound.
Most of them had in fact gawked when they saw the private aircraft of the X-Men and were sceptical of that it could in fact lift off the ground.
"It will take a little time before arriving at the mountains." Betsy Braddock said while handling the ship controls, piloting the craft skilfully as it raced towards its designated landing spot.
Each member was caught up in their private thoughts.
Gourry thought sadly about what might have been between him and Lina. He could never bring himself to hate her fully, despite everything. Zelgadis was a different matter. He had been what Gourry was not. He was both a competent swordsman and shamanist, intelligent, a scholar, always overshadowing him when it came to almost everything except swordplay. What was he labelled? Just an idiot mercenary who used to have a powerful weapon. He always hated those nicknames that insulted him. Always would he be the fool of the group, rarely acknowledged as a rational human being.
He remembered the days as a captive of Hellmaster Phibrizzo. How bit by bit the thing passing as a boy managed through inhuman torture to break his mind and place him under a spell which enabled him-, no, it to control him. He also remembered how he finally awoke from his trance and to his horror realized that Lina before his eyes was going to be engulfed by the Sea of Chaos, how he chased her through that all-consuming darkness. Then his memories became blank, only remembering the two of them arriving back in their own world.
Amelia was brooding. She traced her left hand over one of the scars on her face. It was a token of remembrance of one of the many enemies she made in Atlas City when she single-handedly took on a group smuggling the dangerous drug known as "Kick". While most drugs were generally dangerous when it came to addiction and the danger of overdosing, this drug could actually increase the magical potential and power of any spellcaster by five times for five hours. The biggest problem with this drug was that the users became extremely psychotic after using it and that overdosing could cause the users to burn out their powers, or outright kill them, as the increased powers destroyed them from the inside like a festering disease. She remembered a friend: a shrine maiden from Seyruun who had been trained alongside her back then. How she had found her when she was lost, tired and disillusioned on the cold streets of Atlas City; that she took her in despite that she had problems of her own. Amelia had been grateful for that.
How an overdose of "Kick" slowly killed her as the increased magic coursing through her body was too much for her to handle and disfigured her beyond recognition. And the grotesque scene playing for her eyes as she spasmed and died screaming - no begging her to kill her. How her began to glow like a tiny star and her screams as she simply disintegrated into pure magical energy.
She swore revenge after her funeral, and single-handedly searched the city for days after the group. She finally found their hideout in an old warehouse after "persuading" a dealer to give her the whereabouts of his "friends".
It was during that day that she finally dared to make use of the frightening power within her. A power she was afraid she wouldn't control. The power to manipulate the very weather itself. She felt an inhuman ecstasy as she blasted her enemies with bolts of lightning, hurling them away with her winds, fully enjoying the power within her.
One of them got lucky and slashed her in the face with a razor-sharp knife.
He died.
Then all became a red blur. And minutes later she stood outside while the warehouse burned in the night like a funeral pyre.
Strangely none of what she did bothered her at all. True she had killed people with magic in the past like bandits and her uncle Randy in the heat of battle, but all these times she had relied on her beliefs of justice induced into her mind by her father that told her that bad people deserved to die since they simply were evil and it was justice. Now no longer restrained by those old black and white views, it felt good to cut loose without any restraint or listening to that strict old-fashioned drivel about justice, enjoying a form of destructive freedom.
She was an angel of darkness now. Free from all the chains of the royal family of Seyruun.
And the wicked would whisper throughout the city of this dark angel in fear, praying to whatever deities they could that she would never find them.
But she did.
Meanwhile Jillas and Gravos were sitting next to each other, discussing old times. How it was like working for Gaav and Valgaav. They remembered foiling several of the other mazoku generals' attempts to gain strategic foothold outside of Phibrizzo's barrier, by killing most of their mortal agents. Valgaav had taken care of the mazoku sent after them. He remembered a vivid image of Lord Valgaav ripping one of Phibrizzo's underlings to pieces and slamming the horn on his head through its head as the grand coup de grace. It had been rather messy. Life serving the two had never been very boring to their knowledge.
Jillas remembered how Valgaav finally had allowed him to take his revenge on the butchers who murdered his tribe. Through his powers Lord Valgaav had managed to trace all of them and even gave him a list of names as he created visual projections of each of them. Each face he imprinted in his mind, feeling old wounds resurface again. The worst had been how they murdered and tortured the defenceless cubs and violated the screaming women and slit their throats after they were finished and how there leader had laughed as he poked out his eye with his knife while he was pinned and made him watch in horror. How he laughingly left him to die as the left with the stolen belongings of the Red Fox Tribe. Valgaav had found him half-mad when he had rescued him.
Accompanied by Gravos he took his revenge.
By fire, explosives and bullets they fell. He made them watch as he and Gravos and their lizardmen executed their families for their crimes. He enjoyed putting bullets through their necks or let Gravos kill them as the pleading monsters begged for the lives of their loved ones. He didn't listen.
He remembered how he single-handedly stormed the castle of the only one left.
The leader.
How he without effort killed the guards with ease.
He remembered slitting the throat of his beautiful wife while slowly telling her of her beloved husband's "adventures" and how he launched their only son off the castle wall and down on the ground. He concluded that it was impossible for the young boy to discover the secret of flight by shooting him out with a cannon and over the parapet. It had been messy.
He remembered fighting the so-called noble knight when the charges he had placed finally detonated and brought the entire castle on top of them.
He had managed to crawl out of the rubble and brought back to Lord Valgaav by the mazoku Kanzel, who had applauded him for the terror he had inspired that day. It had been a strange experience to be teleported back to headquarters by Kanzel. Out of all of Gaav's minions he had been a master of dimensional manipulation. Able to create incredible pocket dimensions out of his will alone.
But the revenge could never extinguish the emptiness he felt - the empty void in his soul made him even more eager to fanatically serve Lord Valgaav in the end.
Ironically people around the continent had named him the Devil Fox and spoke of him in fear. Both he and Gravos had gained a reputation as cruel and vicious bandits and killers by the human populace. That made their raids easier since the penalty for resisting them was death. It had been a strange feeling seeing humans actually fear him. As a child he like many other beastmen had been afraid of humans, fearing the day they would come with fire and steel, and murder them all in cold blood. It gave him a sense of power. And this feeling made him in the end vulnerable when Lina Inverse landed on the shores of his continent.
What he hated in Lina Inverse was the helplessness he felt when she utilized her powerful spells. The same helplessness he felt when the humans slaughtered his people. He showed her in the end when he managed to use a divide and conquer tactic against them in the temple. While people like Lina were geniuses and powerful, they tended to underestimate most beastmen. Their loss.
He knew that beastmen were generally like most people. They were of varied personalities and ethics. Some were good people. Some were sadistic monsters. Some were indifferent. Some were racists to the core. Some envisioned peace among all races.
His people hadn't deserved to die.
Soon the ritual would be complete and he would attain powers beyond that of any mortal man.
Gazing into the black cauldron filled with the blood of virgins who had died screaming on the black altar as he held aloft his jade dagger over their heaving chests as they struggled with their shackles before thrusting downwards with all his strength. Their dying screams echoing throughout the tower.
"So those who escaped have gained aid from others like them." The oriental man mused calmly as he stroked his long beard.
Using an on old spell obtained from ancient and cruel Stygia he scryed at the people depicted inside the metallic flying machine that were revealed in the large pool of blood as images were formed before his very eyes.
Walking to a brass bowl supported by a small iron pole that was attached to the stone floor, he threw a strange black powder into it as flames erupted from nowhere inside the bowl and green smoke erupted from it as he applied red incense.
He kneeled before the churning bowl, his arms held up high as he entered a trance.
Dark gods beyond the hidden gulfs which never knew the sun.
I beseech thee to send me your servants to do my bidding.
You who are trapped beyond the vast cosmos, I call on you.
Serve my will or be forever banished into the shadows.
You who live among the stars and prey upon the weak.
Serve the biddings of your gods and mine.
Come.
COME!
Into the dark room a darkness darker than ever before erupted from nothing. As it dissipated four hulking figures stood before him.
Massive they were, looking like tremendous gargoyles of living stone. Their eyes were black unblinking orbs of darkness. Their jaws massive and decorated with shark-like teeth and their huge arms and legs revealed powerful muscles and sharp claws and nails. Their wings resembled those of a giant bat, large and intimidating.
Shing Luu pointed towards a window. "Go!" he commanded imperiously. "Kill the intruders and feast upon their flesh!"
The beasts howled in unholy joy as they rushed towards the window and hurled themselves out in the air as they began flapping their powerful wings and propelled themselves into the direction of their prey. Their howls were like no beast that had ever trod its feet on the earth of this plane. Alien and sinister.
Shing Luu smiled.
The four powerful Shar'gai would kill them easily.
"Heads up, mates!" Psylocke cried out as the radar started making erratic signals. "Four objects! And they are heading right for us!"
Next: Our unlikely heroes struggle against inhuman horrors as the sorcerer tries to chant the spell to resurrect the piece of Shabranigdo trapped since the War of the Monster's Fall - The powerful archmage Lei Magnus.
Dark Lord Rising!
Okay, I admit that this chapter is inspired by the old Conan the Barbarian and Savage Sword of Conan comics by Marvel. I've always thought the dark magic of the Hyborian Age would spice up the story.