9 - Ichorclaw Myr
Oil and blood dripped from the black claws of a vicious creature. It's newest victim, a lone Auriok warrior, laid in the shallows of the Quicksilver Sea. Whatever armor, or protective enchantments the human bore proved useless against his attacker. The Auriok fell all too quickly to the devastating swiftness of the construct that had ambushed him. For a thinking creature, this kill might have proven to be boring, but the construct was not a thinking creature and only knew of effectiveness. Emotions, thoughts and feelings were not meant for the vicious, and the Myr was proof of this claim.
On legs that were more like flexible blades, the Myr scurried closer to its victim and ascertained the wounds it inflicted upon the human.
Across the Aurioks bare chest were fresh slash marks, made from the Myr's claws. Blood seeped from those wounds only to dissolve into the quicksilver waters, but along the edges of each cut, the flesh turned black and decayed. Such was the evidence of the infectiveness of Phyrexia.
Had this human lived, the infection would have spread throughout his entire body, rotting him from the inside, and corrupting his mind. Surly he would have succumbed to the madness of the brain, and if by some chance he had survived even that, then his mind, will and body would forever belong to the Father of Machines. Yet this Auriok was spared a fate that many of his kind would consider worst than death.
A new victim was to be found, the Myr decided, and it scurried onto the beach to begin a new search for new prey. It then spotted a small encampment farther along the beach, perhaps the home of the Myr's most recent victim. They would be the culling stock, and the Myr would be their Shepard.
If the Ichorclaw Myr had lips, it would have smiled wickedly as it charged forward. Perhaps even the vicious are not robbed of emotions after all...