#aware of the two leg creatures with swift claws that fly through the air

[fictionz]

The corruption of the natural state from a fear and hatred so immense that our rational minds cannot comprehend.

Now do it with pleistocene megafauna.

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Kamen Rider Thunderbirds Chapter 3 (Bit 4)

Prologue, Bit 1, Bit 2 Updated, Bit 3...

Here it is, the juicy part of chapter 3 is here! X3

(shoutout to: @janetm74, @myladykayo, @katblu42, @willow-salix​ )

-0-0-0-

It felt like a sci-fi movie. It's just incredible to the point of being impossible. Between him and the monster, was a Kamen Rider, who just saved his life from a terrifying fate.

As he laid there on the rubble, Scott watched with awe as the Rider slowly turned their head towards him. Their big, round, red bug-eyes stared back at him, the flames reflecting their golden armour, horns and silver trimmings on their black suit. Like a dragon in the flames.

Scott and the golden Rider have a moment, before it is interrupted by a roar. The mysterious fighter wiped their heads towards the fire panther monster, who was struggling to get up after getting run over by the Rider. With a swift turn, the Golden savior turned their gold and red bike towards the enemy and roared its engines before charging.

Almost out of panic, the Panther creature threw slashes of flame at the approaching fast Kamen Rider. But the bug-eyed warrior still rode on towards chaos, as the fire spectacle surrounded him. 

Scott almost made a noise of disbelief when the Rider jumped out their bike and kicked the fire monster out of its feet. The bike didn't fall over, she slowed down and leaned to its side to a stop as if she was alive.

The blue sashed commander was overwhelmed by shock and wonder. He couldn't even describe with words or thoughts the fight unfold in front of him. He couldn't help but to observe after he struggled to get up and clung to a piece of concrete to stay on his feet.

The golden bugman fought the fire-panther with grace and without mercy. Everytime the monster threw an attack, the Rider avoided it swiftly with a pivot or a dodge, then came back with a strong punch, a kick, a chop or an elbow. A half-second pause. Then repeat. Like dancing with complete confidence and determination. When the monster took a double take, the Rider walked around it, taunting it, waiting for it to fight back…. If it dared.

Alan saw the whole thing. He was in shock. He cannot believe his eyes… a Kamen Rider came and saved his eldest brother! That's...

But his respite soon interrupted when his grip on the wire was slipping. He tried desperately to hold on much longer, but his strength was fading and his hands were becoming sore.

Alan closed his eyes... 

And began to sing a lullaby…

As his grip slowly slips away… 

Just as he let go, falling into the depths, letting out a cry that he thought might be his last... a black and red armoured hand grabbed him, preventing him from falling into the void of death.

Alan cracked his eyes open and looked up. There he saw the face of his savior. They looked like the golden one, but the golden horns were short, with a "third" protruding in the middle. His armor was crimson red, with a golden collar and arm bracelets.

Another Kamen Rider!?

No way… he was dreaming, right? Did he inhaled some smoke to cause hallucinations? Was it his dream as he was dying from the fall and burning flames?

But then…

"Hey… Don't give up, buddy." The red Rider's soft words echoed his mind, feeding into his shock and enthusiasm.

Within seconds, Alan felt light as a feather when the red humanoid Stag-Beetle pulled him out of the pit, into the safety of solid ground.

The young blond's wide, ocean blue eyes sparked with wonder as he watched the Rider dusted him, and examined him to see if he was okay.

"Hey, kid. Daijoubu desu ka?" The Rider asked, both hands on both his shoulders. Alan mumbled gibberish under his breath. Trying to find words to say back. But his excitement and nervousness combined were his worst enemy. Especially inside a burning basement of a building that will soon collapse on them.

"Oh…Oh…Ohaiyo!" Alan managed to utter.

The red Rider gave him a slight head tilt, as if the youngster had coughed up something worrying. They then shook their head ruefully before replying: "Uh… Maybe you should get out of here. Don't want any more smoke entering your system." Alan swore he heard the Rider ending his sentence with a gentle, lighthearted chuckle.

Explosions and shots from a different gun caught both their attention. Alan saw two more Kamen Riders!

One looked almost like the red one beside Alan, but they looked robotic, almost like a bug-man version of RoboCop, and their colors were blue and silver. They were clearly not a robot, but a person inside an advanced exo-suit. Even though it kinda looked old. Armed with an advanced gun, they fought the fire-goat gladiator with precision, calculation and strategy with a bit of human strength mixed with it. 

The other was a dark green, nasty looking Rider. They are more organic than the rest of the Kamen Riders, almost like a mutant bug. Their claws were sharp like knives, jagged dark green horns protruding from their head, their mouthpiece oddly shaped like a closed mouth. That was confirmed when the silver mouthpiece opened, revealing their terrifying teeth as the Rider let out a blood chilling scream that echoed the whole burning basement, causing everyone who heard it to freeze in fear. After that, the green Rider fought violently like a savage, tearing away through the poor fire-snake monster, who's been trying to escape the Rider's wild, brutal wrath.

The young blonde felt his blood froze from the scream and the green Rider's brutality. He was aware that Kamen Riders were all vastly different from one another, according to the magazines, but he never expected to see this in their army of karate bugmen. He gently looked over the red Rider's shoulder, seeing Gordon near the Mole, looking pale like a petrified statue, despite his calm and professional demeanor. And he swore he heard Virgil from his still not broken comms uttering a quiet "Holy shit…". 

"Kuuga! Heads up!" Yelled the RoboCop Rider, pointing their gun into the air with one hand, while holding the goat monster's head with a choke hold with the other.

Alan felt the red Rider grab his arm and pulled with them as the RoboCop Rider fired a few rounds above them. Then, the humanoid fire-dragon crashed in front of them.

Well, that was close…

"Arigato, G3-X!" The red Rider gave the RoboCop Rider a thumbs up. The latter returned the gesture before releasing their hold of the goat and backhanded it in the back, causing it to crash face first to the ground.

"Kuuga? G3-X?" Alan repeated as he looked over between the two bug warriors. They have names? Really? Then what about the other two?

Alan's mind was everywhere, disoriented by shock, awe, fear and chaos. He felt the red Rider urgently pushed him, leading him away from the chaos and into Gordon, who ran up to him.

As the terrible two backed away to the Mole, Kuuga began fighting the dragon who just struggled to get up. The bug-eyed warrior brawlered with the monster. The Rider threw punches and kicks with everything they got. Not as violent as the green Rider, not as precise as the blue and silver Rider, not even as graceful as the gold Rider. It was raw power and skill.

Scott was barely walking as he tried to maneuver through the rubble, while also watching the fight that was going on in front of him. It was getting tiresome when the fight was dragging out. He almost shouted out loud to finish the fight or the whole building would collapse on them.

But, to his surprise, he didn't have to.

As soon as the fire-panther humanoid was knocked down to the ground a few feet away from the golden Rider, the pair of crest horns on the Rider's head split into six! Then, a burning, golden symbol appeared underneath their feet as they performed a slow movement of hands and feet. Then the Rider crouched into a horse position, the symbol absorbed into their feet!

The monster panther got up at this point, and with a rageful cry, it charged towards the golden Rider. But it turned out to be its last move, as the Rider jumped into the air, their left leg glowing bright, and performed a flying side kick to the monster! The creature tumbled as it growled in agony, the Rider landed on their feet with their side facing the enemy, in the same position as before. But as soon as the Rider slowly turned their back to the fire-panther…

BOOM!!

The fire-panther monster was no more, lost in a ball of fire. There was nothing left of the threat after the smoke had cleared.

This almost took Scott's breath away. Either that or the smoke. He couldn’t tell. He watched as the golden Rider straightened up and looked back at the area where the enemy once stood. Scott tried to move again, but he met with struggles as he felt his body screaming in pain at him. He didn't realize that the Rider had noticed and rushed towards him.

He almost fell out of surprise when the Rider caught him, taking one of his arms and wrapping it over their neck. Overwhelmed by the fact that he was saved and held by a Kamen Rider, it sends Scott into silence. His wide eyes stared back at the bugman, who was looking back at him as if checking if he was okay.

They had a moment again. None of them had said anything. One who was shocked and the other with an unknown emotion.

"Wh-who are you…?" The field commander managed to ask. Then he could feel their body freeze. The golden Rider had said nothing. But they did utter a small surprised breath. 

Although he couldn't see their emotion through the mask, Scott could tell they were hesitant.

The awkward moment dragged on till a distant voice snapped the golden Rider into reality. "Agito!"

Agito? Thought Scott.

The golden Rider shook their head and turned to the source of the voice, which turned out to be the red Rider calling out to them. Then the golden bugman began to move again. Carefully taking the blue sashed commander with them to the direction of the Mole. Scott could see other Kamen Riders fighting the monsters while Gordon and Alan were at the dirt drilling rescue vehicle.

He just hoped the other strange Bugmen finish the rest of the monsters as well...

Kuuga kept fighting the fire-dragon monster. Continuing giving hard hits at it. Just as victory was at close, the winged-lizard bastard flew out of the way, and into the smoke!

Oh God! It would attack any moment!

Alan was looking around, his ocean blue eyes searching in the smoke along with his brother, high alert. He then noticed the red Rider ran up to a small pile of rubble and picked up something from it...

Alan’s handgun!

Kuuga then performed a movement of hands, first doing a diamond on his belt. There was a red round stone in the middle of it, which suddenly changed to green! Another movement of hands, one in the air and the other above their belt. Arms slowly moved apart, then...

"Cho Henshin!" The red Rider cried. Then they extended their arms, as a strange, high pitched vrooming sound built up in pitch. In seconds, the red Rider had turned green! Alan's gun that the Rider was holding, morphed into a weapon that seemed like a combination of a crossbow and a gun!

"Did… did that guy just change!?" Gordon gapped. Even keeping his professionalism was getting harder to maintain for the aquanaut. Alan's only response was a small sound of awe.

The now green Kuuga just stood there. They slowly moved their head, big green eyes scanning and searching with intense focus. With every moment, the air grew heavy from all the smoke and tension.

It was so tense that Alan squeezed his grip into Gordon's shoulder, to the point his aquanaut of a brother cooing him to ease up a bit.

Then, the fire-dragon reappeared from the smoke! It roared as it dove towards the Rider!

As if time had slowed down, Kuuga whipped their heads up, pointing the "bowgun" towards the fast approaching enemy, one hand pulling the hammer, its split limbs pulled back into loaded position. One can notice heat coming out of the tip of the weapon. Then, with a press on the trigger, the green Kuuga let go of the hammer, the limbs released, and the bowgun fired.

In a flash, the dragon monster yelped as a strange, burning symbol appeared on its chest where it got hit! It plummeted to the ground, roaring in agony, before it finally exploded.

The terrible two watched as the Rider reverted back to their red form, the bowgun morphed back to its original form. Alan and Gordon looked at each other. They both smiled, with the aquanaut giving the blonde a little rub on the head. They then noticed the red Rider rushing towards the golden Rider, who was carrying the poor limping Scott.

"Scott!" Both brothers rushed towards their big brother, as the golden Rider, with the help of Kuuga, gently returned the man back to his team.

Shots were heard again, taking everyone's attention to the RoboCop Rider fighting the fire-goat monster. The monster pushed the Rider with its heavy, demonic shield.

"G3-X! Need help?" Called Kuuga.

"Daijobou! I can deal with it!" Grunted the blue and silver bugman as they looked down at the big burning eyes of the shield. A bright line of glow went across their orange/red visors. They made a sound of "Aha!" and took out their battle knife, plunging it straight into one of the eyes!

G3-X then pushed the shield with enough force that the fire-goat nearly fell off its feet. The Rider backed off as the shield exploded, leaving the enemy defenseless. And quite furious.

"Yosh, time to finish you off!" The RoboCop Rider quickly approached their bike and took out two pieces of a grenade launcher. Turning to the outraged fire-goat humanoid, who was charging at them with its now burning horns, they chucked the weapon before taking an aim. Then fired a shot. And another. And another. The grenades explode upon impact on the goat's chest, causing it to lose its footing, grunting in pain before it too lost in a big fireball.

The brothers wanted to sigh with relief. But that opportunity had been taken when a very injured fire-snake monster was charging at them, nearly scaring the souls out of them. Just as Kuuga and Agito stepped in, the monster had been grabbed from behind. Two green, powerful arms held the shoulders from underneath the armpits, trapping the fire-snake into place. An unpleasant familiar face revealed from behind.

"I'll finish it off! It's my prey!" Growled the organic bugman. The fire-snake panicked as the Rider lifted it backwards, throwing it into the air and the creature landed behind.

The Mutant Rider turned towards it and screamed again, their fists in the air, their "mouth" cavity wide open revealing sharp teeth once more!

Alan noticed that the tiny spikes on their heels grew into long, hook-like blades. 

How did that guy do that? And why? He thought.

His answer soon revealed as the Mutant Rider jumped into the air, lifted their leg high to the point of reaching their head, and then dropped it as they came down on their foe, impaling the heel blade into the fire-snake monster's shoulder!

The monster whimpered as the Mutant Rider let out another scream before kicking it with their other leg, propelling them into a back flip before landing in a crouching position a meter away.

The snake let out a painful hiss before it exploded into oblivion! The moment made the three Tracy brothers gulp.

"Nice one, Gills!" G3-X gave the Mutant Rider a thumbs up. The latter simply huffed, the spikes on their heels retracted.

All of the monsters had been defeated���

International Rescue and rescuees were saved!

Though, not quite. Just as everyone thought everything was settled down, the whole basement began to rumble. The Kamen Riders took off to their respective motorcycles, revved their engines and rode past the Mole, vanishing into the dark tunnel dug by the machine. Alan watched them leave as he and his brothers retreated into the digger, stopping momentarily to hear the fading sounds of their engines through the loud rumbling of the falling basement.

“Come on Alan!” Gordon called urgently, in which the blonde obliged and entered the Mole.

"Virgil! Have you fixed the Mole! The whole basement is going to collapse at any moment!" The aquanaut grunted as he laid the limping Scott on the medbay, next with the very concerned rescuees.

"Almost there!" Replied the mechanic. He closed the lid a little too hard, but he wasted no time as he rushed to the controls. He began, and finally the Mole shook into life. Virgil exclaimed, "Got it! Now let's get out of here!"

With that, he set the machine into reverse, the Mole beginning to spin her drill and slowly backed away from the crumbling floor.

The Earth shook around them, Gordon and Alan trying their best to keep the passengers calm while Virgil navigated. Alan also focused on checking on Scott and patching him up. He carefully wrapped a bandage around his brother's head to cover a cut on the side of his forehead, then cleaned and bandaged other injuries that Scott had sustained, staying focused through the intense shaking.

Then, the Mole had been hit by sudden shockwaves in the earth. Virgil grunted as he tried to keep the Pod vehicle steady. The rescuees worried and some of them filled with the desire to gnaw their teeth. The rest of the brothers keep their best to stay calm. Aftershocks hit again and again. They could hear and feel the tunnel collapsing around them. They must be close!

The controls screamed in the cabin, the sensors beeping loudly, the whole world shaking around them. With one more push from the reverse thrusters, the Mole finally emerged from the ground, back to her carrier. After the digger had fully recovered and secured, the carrier leaned back to a vertical position. Then it quickly retreated as the ground swallowed the building whole!

The air stood still, as dust fell and tainted the white snow as the fire extinguished into nothing but burning smoke. The building was nothing but smitherings.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief. The rescuees cried with joy, the brothers huffed and puffed, roughed up by burns, bruises and dust. They smiled at their victory.

Virgil sunk into the pilot seat, turning around to see how everyone was doing. After taking his breath, he wasted no time to check with all of the passengers along with Alan and Gordon. Until he noticed their commander of a brother, "Hey! Nice hair style you got there Scott." 

The terrible two giggled.

Scott snorted, giving his man a lazy backhand to the chest, "Remind me to punch you in the neck once we're back to base."

The rescuees had been escorted to the hospital as soon as International Rescue helped them, leading out the Mole. In the meantime, the Tracy brothers were patching themselves up from all the literal hell.

"International Rescue, this is Thunderbird Five. How does it go down there? You guys had been radio silent for ages that Dad is starting to pull hairs!" John called through the comms minutes later.

"It's alright John. We made it…" Scott reassured, winced as Virgil finished wrapping up his head with a bandage.

"Oh thank goodness! Here I am thinking I am going to be the only child." The space monitor said sarcastically, with a hint of relief.

"Sorry bro, you are still going to suffer with us." Chuckled the blue sashed commander.

"Anyway, what happened down there? All I ever heard was somebody yelling in the comms, and then the connection got cut off…" Asked John.

"We'll explain everything during the debrief. It's a bit… overwhelming."

"F.A.B. Call you later to check on you. Just please don't disappear on me again."

"F.A.B!" Scott chuckled and cut the call. Immediately after that, he hissed as pain jabbed his forehead,"Ow!"

"Take it easy Scott." Virgil said softly.

"Say, Virgil." Gordon called.

"Hm?"

"Did you see down there?" His ginger headed brother asked.

"Alan was going to have a field day…"

"More like he's having Vietnam War flashbacks." Gordon pointed out in a joking tone. He pointed to Alan's direction, who was walking about in the snow, looking at the ruins.

"He's just overwhelmed. He just needed some fresh air." Reassured Virgil.

"Just like the rest of us…" Sighed Scott, his body melted to the chair.

Alan was walking not too far from Thunderbird Two, snow crushed under his feet, cold winter air cooling his overheated body. A breath of fresh air filled and cleared his lungs from the smoke he might have inhaled. He was looking over at what had once stood the building. Smoke and rubble was all it's left, the last remnants of embers died out.

Just as Alan was about to turn away, he heard the faint sound of engines coming closer. He turned back, seeing the four Kamen Riders slowing down their bikes. They stopped, got off their two-wheeled machines and walked towards the rescuers, with caution and curiosity. Scott, Virgil and Gordon all got up, out of words to describe what they were seeing. The newcomers stopped and stared with their big, bright red faceted eyes.

International Rescue and Kamen Riders stood five meters apart, face to face. Wonder was hanging in the air. Staring into each other's eyes, although one side didn't know the emotion of the other.

Heroes had finally met, in one place, under the waning sunset. 

The red Rider broke the silence as they began walking towards Alan. The young blonde stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat. He, with his wary brothers behind him, watched as the Rider extended their arm to him, holding an object in their armoured hand. Alan's eyes widened when he recognized the object: his handgun!

The young blonde reached out, slowly, hesitantly. The Rider didn't say a word.

At last, Alan took his weapon, then took a few steps back, closer to the safety of his brothers. The Rider backed away, big, round eyes never left the sight of International Rescue. Other Riders walked a bit closer to their red fellow.

"Um… Arigato, Kamen Rider." It was the only reply that Alan could think of, bowing.

Like in slow motion, he saw the red Rider lift their arm, their hand curled into a fist. And then, his thumb stuck up into the air.

This moment made Alan let go of a breath that he was holding the whole time. And he couldn't help himself but to smile widely. His brothers let sighs of relief as they smiled as well, even Scott smiled like a child.

The field commander felt the intense eyes of one of them. The golden Rider scanned him, but surprisingly it didn't bring any sense of alert. He noticed the change of the bugman's behavior. Although it seemed that all of them were standing still, this particular Rider all of the sudden appeared behind one of their peers. Their big eyes still haven't left Scott's.

It wasn’t until the red Rider turned around and laid a hand on their golden twin’s shoulder. The golden Rider jerked his head to their red companion, seemingly snapping out of whatever they were thinking. The stag-beetle bugman gave them a nod, tapping their shoulder before beginning to walk back to their bike, the Mutant and the RoboCop Riders not too far behind.

The golden Rider looked back at the Tracy brothers. Having a still moment before they too followed their companions.

The Kamen Riders swung their legs over their respective, heavily modified motorcycles. With a twist of their wrists on the throttle, they revved their engines, wheels screeching on the cracked asphalt and took off to the opposite direction from where International Rescue was standing. The dusk light reflected the shining parts of their armour and vehicles like they were a dream.

"Cool…" Breathed Alan.

Gordon walked up to his little partner in crime, laying a proud hand on his shoulder. "Guess they are our allies after all, right kiddo?"

Alan nodded, his smile still bright. Still watching the warm red and gold horizon, as the bug-eyed warriors faded into the cold winter mist.

-0-0-0-

“Damn you, Kamen Riders…” hissed the master of fire, “You dare to interfere!” 

His flames around his body had bursted into a wild inferno, anger raging in his eyes as he would melt the whole roof of a building he was standing on watching. But he had to stop himself before he could do some damage.

“Alright now, Pyrohimera, calm down...just calm down,” he muttered to himself before taking a deep breath, the fires decreased with each exhale, “Not yet… First, I must warn my siblings and the man in black. They might have some ideas on how to solve our little ‘problem’...” 

He spread his fiery wings, burning the air around them as he flapped them and took off into the cold, dusk sky.

-0-0-0-

tbc...

[razieltwelve]

Little One (Final Effect)

Archie-3 was a proud member of the Imperial Zerg. He was no towering titanolisk, nor was he was a cunning custodian. Instead he was a simple zergling, one of four to have hatched from the same egg, which was where his name came from.

For years, he had served the Empire faithfully. He fought in many battles, and he was part of many victories. HIs claws and teeth had tasted the blood of Grimm, traitors, and countless other foes. His carapace had warded off bullets, lasers, fangs, and the weapons of so many enemies.

But today… today he would die.

The Empire’s forces on this planet were about to be overrun by Grimm. There were simply too many of them, and the Grimm swarm had cut them off from fleet support. Instead, the Empire would be forced to evacuate as many people as they could through a series of wormhole gateways. The Grimm in orbit around the planet had disrupted the very fabric of reality around the planet, so even with their advanced technology, the Empire could only create the smallest of wormholes. 

There would not be enough time to evacuate all of the Imperial Zerg. Some might have raged at that. Others might have wept. Archie-3 thanked the universe for this chance to die a glorious and noble death in service to his creators. He had outlived all three of his egg-mates. Archie-2 had been the last to fall, almost a century ago, to the vile claws of a monstrous Grimm. Archie-3 had torn the Grimm’s throat out, but the damage had been done. Not even the biology of the Imperial Zerg could fix dismemberment combined with crushing.

Today, he would go to meet his egg-mates, and it would be glorious.

X     X     X

Archie-3 turned his eyes to the sky. Clouds of Grimm were descending from low orbit, a storm of drop pods, each of which would strike the ground and unleash dozens upon dozens of Grimm. Around him, the other Imperial Zerg defending the wormhole sprang into motion.

Banelords unleashed barrages that filled the sky with shrapnel. Cyberlisks fired volley after volley of spines. Mutablades soared through the sky and spat blade-like parasites that tore through drop pods before exploding in bursts of razor-sharp chitin.

Not far away, a mighty titanolisk with anti-air adaptations began to unleash great blasts of bio-plasma. It would not be enough. There were simply too many Grimm, and the Grimm in orbit finally began to respond. Blasts of raw energy and vast, jagged spires of reinforced bone thundered down.

Thousands of Imperial Zerg fell beneath the assault, and the only survivors were those who found shelter either beneath the armoured plates of a titanolisk or the psionic shields of a Custodian or other psionically-gifted Imperial Zerg.

As Archie-3 moved out of cover, the first of the Grimm landed. He hurled himself into the fray, his mind melding seamlessly with those of his fellows, thousands upon thousands of Imperial Zerg fighting as one to hold the Grimm off for as long as possible. Barbed spines pierced the legs of the closest Grimm, and Archie-3 leapt onto its back. His claws dug deeply into the gaps between its armour, and his teeth sank into the weaker flesh at the nape of its neck. Blood spewed from the wounds, and Archie-3 leapt off as the Grimm rearer up, only to fall as another volley of spines caught it in its now exposed throat.

Ahead of him, Archie-3 spotted the titanolisk locked in battle against a Grimm that was somehow even larger than the gigantic Imperial Zerg. A blow that would have cracked a mountain forced the titanolisk back, and a beam of searing light sheared off one of the titanic blades the Imperial Zerg used to fight. Archie-3 snarled. He had seen Armelius, the titanolisk, shrug off orbital bombardment. To have been wounded so badly, that Grimm must be incredibly strong.

Dodging through the Grimm, Archie-3 jumped up onto the colossal Grimm. Spines erupted from its body, but he was already in motion, racing towed the creature’s sensor bundles, large, dome-like organs that helped it target its powerful weaponry. Armelius roared, and the two giants clashed again. One of the Grimm’s limbs came loose in a shower of gore, and Aremelius lurched back as another blast crackled into the armour plating covering his chest. The acrid scent of ruined flesh filled the air, but the titanolisk pressed on. Bio-plasma thundered into the Grimm, and it reeled away.

The Grimm was too occupied with Armelius to dislodge Archie-3, and he surged forward and sank his claws into the closest sensory bundle. On his own, his claws would never have been able to pierce the thick, flexible hide around the organ, but his creator had wisely selected adaptations to enhance the sharpness of his weaponry. His claws were coated in a thin layer of a substance that could be honed to a monomolecular edge when exposed to a strong current of electricity. The organs inside Archie-3 pulsed the current through his claws, and the sensory organ ruptured.

Archie-3 jumped clear as the Grimm’s shrieks of pain filled the air. Armelius seized the initiative, tearing into the Grimm as its severed blade regenerated. Leaving the remainder of the fight to the titanolisk, Archie-3 pressed on. There were more Grimm to kill.

Too many more.

X     X     X

Archie-3 staggered. Smoke rose from the holes in his carapace. The Grimm he’d just slain had peppered his body with projectiles fired at speed great enough to get through even his defences. One of his limbs was a mangled wreck. There wouldn’t be enough time for it to regenerate. His teeth had broken on the armour of another Grimm.

And there were still more.

Behind him, he was vaguely aware of the dwindling Imperial Zerg reforming their lines around the wormhole. They didn’t have to last much longer. An hour should be enough. Archie-3 gurgled in what would normally have been a chittering laugh.

An hour?

He could do that. A mental command ruptured several organs within his body, releasing a cocktail of stimulants and other substances, all of which were designed to supercharge his performance at the cost of permanent damage. His eyes gleamed. Permanent damage? He was going to die here. He might as well take down as many Grimm as he could.

As new strength filled his body, he drew himself up to his full height and shrieked a challenge. And then he was running, his swift, swift pace eating up the ground as he threw himself at the Grimm. A claw ripped into his side. His own claws tore the Grimm’s head off. A shard of bone dug into his leg. He staggered, but found the strength to leapt at the Grimm and drag it down. Claws flashing, he tore it to pieces, only to be tossed back as something struck his side with terrible force.

His carapace cracked, and what passed for ribs shattered. He rolled, tumbling through the muck and mire of the battlefield. It was a large Grimm, far larger than him. He looked for support and found none. The Imperial Zerg were too few to offer each other much aid. They were all fighting their own battles now, each of them locked into desperate duels for survival.

Archie-3 flared the wing-like limbs on his back in a threat display. The Grimm bellowed and charged. They met halfway, and the impact sent Archie-3 flying backward. He found his footing and darted forward again, hacking at the Grimm’s legs. It stumbled, and he moved to get onto its back, only to be slapped aside. More things inside him broke. His vision swam.

For a moment, he saw his egg-mates again.

His head cleared. He wasn’t dead. Not yet. And there was still at least one more Grimm to kill. Breaking into a sprint, he charged, and this time, he was ready. As the Grimm raised one hand to crush him, he sacrificed a limb. The limb was torn from his body, but he launched himself at the Grimm’s throat. With terrible determination, he latched onto it with his broken teeth. The huge creature screeched in rage, and Archie-3 tightened his grip, claws latching onto anything they could find to hold him in place.

Slowly, the Grimm began to weak, but in its death throes, it tore Archie-3 loose and slammed him into the ground. Once, twice, and a third time, and then a fourth…

Archie-3 could no longer see. His skull was fractured. His bones were broken. But he could feel. The grip around his leg loosened, and the earth shook as the Grimm toppled to the ground beside him.

Enough.

He’d… he’d done enough.

X     X     X

The Dia-Farron snarled as she walked through the fields of dead Imperial Zerg. The planet had fallen, but the Imperial Zerg had held the line long enough for it inhabitants to retreat through the meagre wormholes they’d been able to construct. At her side, her hamster made an angry sound. They had both raised plenty of Imperial Zerg in their time, and to see so many of the dead…

Well, at least they had not gone quietly. The fields were littered with countless Grimm as well. 

It had taken them three days to break the blockade around the system, and they were now scouring each planet for Grimm and survivors. So far, the only survivor she’d found was a horribly wounded titanolisk. Armelius was old for a titanolisk, and his service record indicated he was a second generation titanolisk. He’d been brought to one of their outposts for further healing and assessment.

Up ahead, there was another reading, faint but still there. She walked for another minute and then stopped. There was a zergling there. From the marks on the carapace and the genetic matrix she’d detected, he was a first generation - one of the few she’d ever seen. Zerglings, as a rule, did not tend to last as long as some of their hardier kin. This zergling was more than two hundred years old then…

Gently, she knelt by the zergling’s side. His body was a wreck. Almost every bone and plate of carapace shattered. Yet, his brain was still active, albeit in a sort of ‘coma’ to try to survive for as long as possible. Frankly, even that should have been impossible. According to her scanner, the zergling had activated the ‘suicide glands’ in its body, boosting its strength in exchange for massive organ failure in the future.

“Pick him up,” she ordered her hamster. “Guy like this… we can’t let him die here.”

X     X     X

Archie-3 opened his eyes. That was… unexpected. He blinked. There was a Dia-Farron above him. For a moment, he thought it was his creator, but no, she was not the same although they shared similarities. Besides, his creator was dead. She had lived a long and happy life before dying of old age, a fate that Imperial Zerg did not have to worry about.

“Hello.” The Dia-Farron patted him on the head. “It took us a lot of work to put you back together. You’re the oldest zergling in the Empire, actually.”

He was? That was… new.

“Now, we could send you back out to fight,” the Dia-Farron said. “But we’ve got a better idea. The average life expectancy of a zergling is roughly fifteen years. You guys just aren’t as durable as some of the others. But you’re more than two hundred years old.” The Dia-Farron grinned. “Sending you out to the front lines would be a waste.”

Archie-3 bristled. They had healed him. He could fight!

“We want you to train other zerglings. There has to be a reason you’ve survived so much longer than all the others. We want to study your adaptations too. If we can make the other zerglings as powerful as you…”

Archie-3 calmed. This… this was simply another way of fighting. If he could pass on his knowledge and strength… he clicked his claws together in a display of approval.

“Good. I’m glad you approve of the idea.” She patted his head again. “Rest up, and if you’re looking for company, Armelius is wandering around somewhere, says he hates being lazy, needs something to do.”

[lysandra-vanburen]

War of Witches

Warning: Kids and horses were harmed in the making of this chapter

Mood

Their evening ride started off as no different from the countless times before.

The twins had made a game of it, often, when they were both lacking the weighty hardships of responsibilities before their dedicated appointments to each other. The game consisted of weightless flying by horseback, galloping the same trails they had ridden since they were old enough to ride without chaperones -- Six years.

They had become acquainted with every root and every indention of land from past sunken burrows of hares and stoats, or other such burrow animals that lingered in the forest.

Both twins matched in the general color scheme of both their garb and the tack wear for their horses. True to the Vanburen way, both twins adopted similar tones to that of the Vanburen house, silver and green embroidered wear decorating their lithe forms. Their beauty in their fashion was apart of a pyramid that brought the twins to a culmination of grace and dominance that only the Vanburen were capable of. Confidence and poise were apart of their uniform, for no Vanburen could be caught looking less than a typical noble.

Adopted, and still both Charlette and Albert were expected to represent the family without fault or hesitation.

Alas, these facts did not seem to keep either boy or girl from finding time to laugh so boisterously or shout forth words of mock solace to one another whilst their proud, massive horses charged forth down paths that the twins familiarized better than the backs of their own hands. There was adventure in their evening runs, and it was always a thrill to share in the moment together.

Slowly the horses drew to a stop at the pond which they had always been drawn to, even in their younger years. It was their check point, somewhere to relax and allow their horses to rest up while the children themselves composed themselves and made time to tease one another for certain shortcomings regarding the ride.

“You didn’t keep your heels down, what would mother think?” Charlette aimed to rattle her brother’s confidence, taking a moment to bring her gloved fingers through the growing coat of her dapple mare’s neck, an impish smile upon her lips all the while.

“Yeah?” Albert guffawed noisily, his own gloved hands clinging to the reins as he leant forward and brought his hands down as far as his arm would reach to provide his horse enough room to drink from the pond, “And what would mother say about your incessant lack of providing head room for your horse whilst leaping over the overgrown roots and fallen trees, mm?”

His challenging words were met with a pointed glare and a snippy: “Oh piss off,” which Albert would chuckle beneath his breath toward.

Quite instantly had the leaves begun to rustle, loudly until it was a thundering crescendo of noise that initially drew the concerned glances of both children. It was only then that Albert and Charlette seemed to become aware of how dark the evening had quickly become, sunset already reaching it’s last few lights, the once lively forest they had ridden through slowly falling into a state of unnerving silence that the twins simultaneously found to be more foreboding than they had recalled.

“Odd,” Charlette spoke out loud, her eyes moving over toward Albert just as the boy had begun to tighten his grip on his reins, turning his horse about to face the face of which his sister’s was, both mares nickering softly.

Unbeknownst to either of the twins had the horses become fixated on a distant darkness lingering in the brush nearer the outside of Melstone grounds. Their ears were upright and their eyes ever searching, slowly becoming restless with snorts and frantic nickers that were met with simultaneous confusion from both girl and boy.

While Charlette tightened her grip on the reins in an effort to control her horse’s shaking head had Albert begun to tug his horse to the right, aiming to guide her away from whatever was unsettling her -- And for even the slightest of moments both twins managed to calm the horses by turning their attention away.

Alas, this did not keep either twin from finding immense interest in the out of place gap of trees leading deeper into the heart of the thicket residing on the outskirts of their mother’s estate grounds. It was never once before seen by either of them, as truly this pond was that of which they visited as religiously as they invested into their weekly rides together.

“We should return..,” Albert paused, his thoughts scattered as instantly as he had fabricated them, his normal level headed responsible ideas disappearing the longer the two lingered on the edge of the grounds, “Uhm..”

“What’s that, Albie?”

The twins remained silent for the time being, admiring the world around them more closely now... Neither aware of the pull of their souls tugging them back deeper toward the heart of Melstone grounds, back toward their home... The comfort of their warm beds and hot meals and dotting mother.

They ignored the tug and pull. It was easy to, when they were being manipulated as so.

“Charlie,” Albert mused, slowly allowing his horse to turn and face the path unused, marveling how enticing the adventure perceived to be, “What do you suppose is beyond the estate grounds?”

Charlette’s eyes twinkled with a deep desire for the chase, her gaze soon moving to share in a knowing glance with her brother, “I haven’t dared to fathom the thought, brother. Until now.”

Unbeknownst to either twin it wasn’t truly their thoughts they were considering. There was a darkness lingering in the air surrounding them, one which bolstered their desire for thrill and tampered with their pride which led them both to nod simultaneously before digging their heels unnecessarily sharp into the flanks of their mares, urging the wary beasts onward with persistently cruel kicks to their sides.

Stubbornly the humans fought their mares onward, and it was the moment which the horses’ hooves passed the safety of the state grounds that things went awry.

Charlette and Albert’s fogged minds became their own, and instantly they’d both shriek in terror. The darkness last lingering in the brush was now upon them, consuming them with an unsettling howl of cackling laughter, the shrill stutter of horses being attacked alone was not enough to overwhelm that vicious war cry of the unknown beast.

It had taken the shape of a monster which only twice the twins had seen in their nightmares, a fanged creature with dark holes for eyes thick scraggly black hair, it’s clawed hands elongated and wrapping around the children to squeeze and beat them into the ground, it’s nails like daggers as it slashed and tore deep lacerations into both humans and horses.

The symphony of destruction was paired with the harrowing, brittle snap of bones and the slicing of flesh, horses screaming neighs causing both twins’ ear drums to ache horribly as the sound intensified with that dark ichor of a voice taunting them with sick laughter. There was immense pain in that moment for both boy and girl, swift meeting of ground and bodies caused the darkness to subside.

It was over as suddenly as it had begun.

For a moment… The world was unnaturally blank to Charlette.

All she could see was the sickly wood of trees canopying overhead like a thick ichor blotting out the sky, providing a sense of hopelessness… It was exactly like the twins had seen in their nightmares.

Slowly Charlette became alittle more aware of her current state, just enough to acknowledge that she was laying on her back now, her arms splayed out and the entirety of her back -- her legs, her torso, her head -- aching something fierce that she couldn’t explain. Try as she might her body could not move, there was a crushing weight laying upon her that trapped her left leg which, ultimately, she couldn’t even feel. She couldn’t even wiggle her toes. All she could do was lift her head with minimal ache, though still everything was mangled with a fuzzy dizziness that made it hard to focus.

All she would make out was the still form of her horse laying on it’s side, it’s body unnaturally bent, seemingly being the thing which currently kept the thirteen year old pinned. Her eyes would drift then to inspect her brother whom currently laid face down, his horse also laying on its side but much further from the group. It, to her, seemed well enough given the beast’s head was upright and she was nickering softly whilst nuzzling the side of Albert’s head.

Charlette couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. She could barely recall her own name whilst trying to focus on a figure meandering casually down the path away from the group. There was a smugness to it’s swagger that Charlette hadn’t recognized, and thus her heart leapt into her throat as thrill vibrated throughout her every being… She felt a surge of hope that swiftly her party would be discovered and help would soon come.

The girl’s voice was hoarse, begging even as she called forth: “H-Help us! H-Hey! My mother--... My..,” she exhaled slowly, the pain suddenly overwhelming the child until she fell back, fully aware of how battered her body had been left.  She’d give forth a cry of pain, one which caused the retreating figure to finally pause and turn.

That sense of haunt and horror that first consumed her and her brother upon crossing from the safety of Melstone estate grounds returned… Like a fog clogging every pore, slowly suffocating the girl. It was terrifying.

It came equipped with a voice that was… Soft and feminine. A taunting tone that purred out in mockery, the figure returning and managing to provide Charlette a better view of the woman now that her dizziness was subsiding.Now that she was closer Charlie was more aware of the fog of black that shimmered and danced around on the woman’s shoulders like black flames clinging to her clothing.

Drustvar witch.

She wasn’t the most comely of creatures, in fact she would be considered plain at best were it not for the warts dotting her pale, sickly grey flesh. Her eyes were white and fogged with a pale grey, like that of a blind woman.

The woman’s hand lowered to caress Charlette’s battered, scraped cheek, thick black nails pressing into the tender flesh, deliberately dragging her nails down to cut and eviscerate the girl’s skin further whilst hissing out over the child’s cry: “You are a pawn in this game of chess, child.”

The woman’s voice was thick with raspy tones, carrying such a hatred that Charlette had never been subject to before, “You are meant to die, to reassure that coven family of yours that you all are expendable… That you all are in danger if you continue to defy the natural order of Drustvar. Your body will remind your family,” the woman’s nails cut and tore down the length of Charlette’s under jaw and her neck, pausing at her chest where the woman would begin to push her claws inward, digging deep into the muscle and tissue to ensure deep scars would remain, “That Drustvar will win this battle. For we, like death, are not bias to young or old… We will exterminate you.”

With a sneer of a grin the pale witch rose to stand over the weeping Charlette, stepping over the bleeding child pointedly to move toward her brother.

Defiantly, and with as much strength as she could muster, Charlette twisted her torso and snatched a hand out to grip the frayed bottoms of the witch’s dress, halting her momentarily from reaching the unconscious Albert.

The vulnerable Albert...

“We--,” Charlette heaved out, slowly reaching beneath her bloodied, gold blouse, “Are Vanburen… A people which rise above the hatred of the lands, a beacon of strength midst the dark skies,” Charlette coughed out.

The witch gave a guffaw, but made no further effort to challenge the child. There was a sense of forebode upon this child that she couldn’t pinpoint, but it all came into view as the girl pulled forth a phoenix amulet, the firebird carved out from a precious and rare stone. The amulet alone would cause the witch to hiss and move away from the child, her dress ripping and a piece of the soiled cloth remained tightly clung in Charlette’s grip.

“It’s perish was a short lived victory for their foes for – quite like the Phoenix – the Vanburen arose from their ashes stronger than before. Braver than before.”

Instantly a bright light would break from the amulet, engulfing the group in a translucent shimmer of silver, a forcefield appearing over their forms.

With a hiss the dark witch ran from the scene, the amulets revealed power enough to keep the creature at bay -- her and every other evil that lingered, waiting an opportunity to feast upon the souls and bodies of the four bodies laying in a heap of defeat.

Slowly Charlette brought her hand out toward her brother, straining to snatch up his left arm sleeve before struggling with all her might to roll him onto his back -- and as she was able to perform this it became a horrific sight… His forehead had been split open from impact, dirt and stone abrasions dotting his exposed skin, some pebbles even embedded into his head wound. It was very clear to Charlette in that moment that there would be no moment soon in which Albert would stir.

How she wished that he was merely sleeping... He looked peaceful enough, convincing enough... With his eyes gently closed and mouth agape in that snoring expression that she had become so accustom to...

This was no time to be foolish.

Her eyes moved to his horse, her voice desperate as she mused: “Daff,” the horse perked it’s head, her legs and torso bloodied from abrasions and puncture wounds, “Home,” Charlette begged, “You must go home.”

It was an emergency tactic Lysandra made certain to train her children and their horses. If ever occurred an accident in which the children could not get help of their own, their horses were instilled a sense of home that would lead the brave hearted beasts back to the estate to find help on their own and lead them back to the child -- It was risky, to possibly leave a child on their lonesome, alas it was a chance they would have to take at this moment.

Thus, the horse instantly rose to her hooves and darted in the direction of the estate grounds, easily barreling through the darkness that attempted to ensnare her.

And quietly then would Charlette lay, her eyes starring toward her brother with a sense of forlorn and apology, her hand slipping into his limp palm… There they would lay, the girl fighting every urge to not cry for the loss of her own mare who laid motionless atop her leg.

All the while she thought long on the witch’s words...

Drustvar will win this battle...

Charlette’s eyes narrowed, steadying her breathing then. All in the effort to keep herself calm.

“We are Drustvar,” she’d hiss out, confident in tone.

[zu-daba]

The Hunt Begins

Zu’Daba bid his farewells to the Shadowtusk Clan after the day’s various adventures. They had learned how to trap a devilsaur and even captured a pair of eggs from the immense creatures while collecting still more from the massive stegodon native to the crater. It had been a great time for the trolls here, and yet Zu’Daba found himself trouble.

His hunt hadn’t made any progress. Kambakali was not anywhere to be found.

Several hours had passed of him searching through the warbling, claustrophobic jungle before he finally took a rest. Squatting upon the ground while rainwater and sweat pervaded every inch underneath his armor, he snuffed at the air. No sign of ravasaurs or their musk, let alone the musty rot that would no doubt mark the location of Kambakali’s killing ground.

He knew that the creature enjoyed playing with its prey.

As he took in a deep breath, the air felt heavy in this throat and the ground giving beneath his feet. It was mud, nothing more, and yet the feeling brought back strange memories from years prior, even before Venomclaw.

Timid and lost, Zu’Daba wandered with only his oaken bow, a couple of arrows and his machete through the sweaty Un’Goro jungle. Every noise gave him jitters, and even the slightest bit of movement had him jumping about on his feet. This particular spot seemed odd, though. He’d wandered here on purpose, as the titanic devilsaur did not bother hunting here. Nor did Kambakali.

At least not yet, he hadn’t..

It was the territory of the venomhide ravasaur. Creatures adapted perfectly to the crater’s apex predator and evading its slavering maw. While well-aware it was dangerous, he found it more comforting until he reached the center of that mush-floored clearing. The clicks of hungering predators could be heard nearby as his skin crawled before something lept from the thick underbrush.

The Darkspear dodged to the side as a venomhide launched itself for him, turning and slicing for its tail; cleaving the end off while it squealed in agony. Blood and seeping poison splashed onto the ground, sizzling while he gripped his machete in both hands and grit his teeth. He backed up to the spot it came from, thinking himself safe as it turned and snarled; revealing a full set of pearly white teeth that gleamed with a thin film of venomous spittle. Yet a wrenching pain in his shoulder swiftly made him drop his weapon into the mud.

Another had emerged just behind him, and its teeth sunk deep into his shoulder. A spray of blood burst from the wound as he swung his elbow back towards the beast’s jaw and tore away, clutching the wound with his free hand and wincing.

“C-clevah BITCH..” He seethed, tearing his machete out of the mud and flinging muck towards the ravasaur’s eyes while he could feel nausea bubbling up in his belly and fever coming over his senses. He would not die from the toxin itself, no, but the combination of two of these things might well be enough to over-inoculate him or simply slay him outright. He wasn’t immune just yet, but he was close. He’d need to be careful.

As he performed the maneuver which slung mud into the female’s eyes, her mate (no doubt) sought to jump for Zu’Daba with its scythe-claws poised to tear him to shreds. He flung himself out of the way at the last moment, but even still received a wound upon his thigh as he backed up towards the trees and swung up into one of them. Slicing off the branches as he clambered just out of the tall saurs’ reaches, he drew out his bow and nocked in a bamboo arrow.

“HETHISS! GUIDE YA FANGS! An’ Junglesting.. YA FOCCIN’ ASSISTANCE WOULD BE MUCH APPRECIATED!”

With a twang, the arrow flew forth and slammed into the shoulder of the female; causing her to stagger and growl before a gurgle sounded from her throat. Soon, the most terrifying loogie hocked in existence was flung towards Zu’Daba’s face as he sputtered in surprise and pain. The stuff began seeping in as he desperately began wiping it off with his bracers and calloused palms. Unfortunately, that did not leave the other ravasaur with its own problems and a swift leap found Daba’s ankle in its mouth. He bit down on his tongue to avoid a wail of pure agony, rage boiling up in his throat.

Where..

WAS..

THAT..

WASP?!

“JUNGLESTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!” He prayed it would be loud enough..

And like the most baleful, malevolent light in the darkness, he came. Zu’Daba heard buzzing in the distance before a blur sped on past him at the speed of sound. Or was it unquenched rage? Whatever purpose this blur had, it was clearly murder. The jaws were loosed from around Daba’s ankle as he opened his maw, witnessing the brutal puncturing of that beast’s windpipe when Junglesting impaled it straight through the neck. A bone-shuddering, gasping cry of shock echoed out from the ravasaur’s throat as Daba jumped down, falling onto a knee and watching as Junglesting flew about a tree to prepare for yet another strike with that spear-like stinger.

He sputtered and spat out some blood as the female looked at the brilliant hues of the colorful, flying wasp in rage. She just couldn’t reach it, which left the master as the target of frustration instead. Dashing forward with determination, she thrust herself straight for the Headhunter’s neck; attempting to pin him against the tree he’d climbed to tear his throat out. 

Yet while he felt feverish, a bit sluggish and he could hardly feel one of his legs.. Daba could still move his upper body. He flung himself to the side, letting her strike against the tree-trunk before flinging himself back; right arm gliding through the air to wrap around her neck while his left hand curled into a fist and smashed her snout into the ground. Using all of his weight and strength he climbed atop the creature and pressed his thumbs against its maxilla to hold the jaw closed while his other fingers clenched up on its mandible. He drew his head back, then plunged it downwards.

A squeaking, desperate cry ebbed out as his mammoth tusks buried into the creature’s eyes; rupturing them in a fountain of blood, poison and other fluid. He continued to push forward as it squirmed with surprising willpower before finally slumping in defeat as he pierced into the brain. With one final convulsion and the killing stroke of Daba removing his tusks, the female went silent and the hunter’s gaze fell to the male which was still struggling behind him.

Not that it’d be alive long. Junglesting descended in a shower of broken twigs and disturbed leaves, falling upon the ravasaur like the angel of death. Buzzing about just above the ravasaur’s head, he bit once - twice - three times at the eyes of the large, ferocious male; blinding him before finally swinging his stinger up in under its jaw and sliding it straight up through its tongue. With another tear away and a wrench from the oversized raptor’s skull, the wrathful wasp allowed the corpse to fall to the ground as Zu’Daba collapsed and panted. Seemingly satisfied with this most grotesque killing-spree, Junglesting zipped on away; leaving his master lying in the bloodied mud as pools of sanguine lapped against his scalp and feet.

Shaking himself from this daydream, Zu’Daba scowled and rolled his eyes. That was a silly memory, if a fond one - Those last two were those which had finally given Zu’Daba his immunity, all while they were hunting him. It did make him miss the heroic Junglesting, however.. A bittersweet reminder of the loss he suffered in the ogre war. He prayed he’d never lose such a companion again, as even with a mere ‘insect’ (not that he ever felt that way, Junglesting was still family) really stung. 

Alas, the hunt had to continue, and so he continued on past the place without looking back, wondering why he even remembered.