Chuckling at her words, Zachariel shook his head. For a moment, he believed she had learned how to mock, then he saw she was being serious. Sighing in disappointment, the warlord responded.
"
I know it well, I've seen it over and over again." Chuckling darkly, his voice growled low. "
I've also caused it more than most. People live, take actions in life, and die, before going to the after life. Most simply go to the Nether, though the Mandalorians go to their Manda and the Jedi merge with the Force. And Sith, well they simply linger in their tombs forevermore."
He practically spat out the line regarding the Sith, finding great disgust in it. Such a fate would not befall him, he had made sure of it. But that death would be long in the coming, and certainly wouldn't happen upon this planet. And as he glared at Eina and her compassionate eyes, his hate grew in strength. As she spoke once more, that hate voiced itself in a dark, humorless chuckle.
"
Why do you think I fight, child. Realspace is a galaxy filled with false powers, idealogies, and millions stuck in their ways. The Nether is not real, instead more thought than matter, with powers to be served or fed to. Both realities are flawed and I merely bridge the gap. Few understand, and in the end, all that matters is war is waged, blood is spilt, and the weak are culled."
If there was one constant in all of Zachariel's beliefs, it was that the weak deserved to die, and the strong to rule. Blood spilt and skulls taken were simply added bonuses, ones he greatly enjoyed, but no longer his primary objective, usually. Now though, he felt reason slip and the need for violence take over. Silent fury took over as he saw red, and he leapt, striking at Eina with his blades. As his blades locked with her, Draco made her own move, or rather, attempted to.
She grasped onto Zachariel's armor plating and attempted to fling him towards his Chosen. This didn't happen, in fact, the warlord didn't budge so much as an inch thanks to her movements. At eleven foot tall and weighing over half a ton in full armor, not much could move such mass without his consent. And with his focus solely upon Eina, he didn't even notice the attempted movement, instead pressing further in towards Eina with deadly intent.
"Why do you hate life so much?" she asked softly
At this, Zachariel's silence finally broke, and he snarled once more. He snarled because she didn't understand, she couldn't. He did so because she sounded just like Ingrid, so genuine and sincere. And moreover, because there was no answering her question.
"
Life is meaningless, but I don't hate it. No, I despise weakness, and this galaxy is rife with it."
As his lenses flared an even darker and more menacing red, Zachariel suddenly broke contact with her defense. There wasn't a moment of reprieve though, as he instead began to rain down blow after blow, hate and rage fueling every swing. He was silent once more, but aside from the obvious rage in each swing, it was shown furthermore as the gen'dai was practically shaking. His plans had changed, he would no longer capture Eina, instead he'd kill her. After another blow was swung, Zachariel finally called out, voice barely controlled.
"
Kill. Maim. Burn."
======================
Where the Chosen marched, war followed, and bloodshed ensued. This was a simple fact of life for them, for Zachariel had made it so. Here and now was no different, with an unknown number of defenders already dead to their weapons, and more to join them. Blood had been spilt in the Avatar's name, skulls were taken for the throne. All that was left was for more violence to occur, something it seemed the defenders were willing to do. As they advanced, they cared little for the building being defended, they simply cared for the challenge to be overcome.
As it stood, there may yet be a challenge to be had. Opposing them came Neutralizers, foes the Chosen didn't know, nor cared to, simply foes to kill. Those with melee weapons rushed forward, more agile than their counter parts due to their preference of fighting style. As such, the gap was closed and the melee began. However, behind them came those with ranged weapons, each bearing heavy weapons of some sort. As their brethren ran forward, these Chosen opened fire, sending a constant stream of blaster bolts down range. Shot after shot was sent forth, even as they advanced slowly.
It was these Chosen that the building fell towards, surprising them all as it came crashing down. Dust and rubble filled the street, while those Chosen closest were bowled over and buried by the rubble. Several could soon be seen crawling out of the rubble, anger filling their voices as they let out hate filled cries. But the rest simply continued, simply shifting their fire to account for the temporary loss in personnel. And it was now that Percival met with the Chosen he had picked out.
Said Chosen was one of the melee oriented souls present. She bore two weapons, one a crackling hammer, the other a vibro axe. And it was with these she engaged, all but ignoring the ringing in her ears. The grenade had deafened her, but her eye lenses protected her from going blind. A Chosen next to her was not so lucky, stumbling back as a Neutralizer engaged him. The sounds of blades clashing echoed, but more often than not it was a blade against armor.
But that didn't matter, as the Chosen engaged Percival with a ferocious scream as well, bloodlust echoed in turn. Hammer and axe were raised, blocking what she could, while swinging in turn. As the pair engaged, she laughingly cried out.
"
I would know the name of the one trying to take my skull!"
Sasmay Cull
