Peter, not one to go unarmed in the middle of a warzone and quite thoroughly trained himself, shot the traitor through the head. He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "You're supposed to announce yourself after you shoot, not before. Idiot." A contingent of guards surrounded him, ensuring no other attack would have a chance.
The attackers were entirely unphased by the resistance they met, fighting with a sort of religious fervor just as zealous at the Imperials were known to fight with, if not more. It was a fanatical attack, the mysterious attackers shouting about the dawn with every casualty. They attacked everybody in sight without mercy or hesitation, almost as if aiming to do as much damage to the Imperium in as short a time as possible.
Nobody responded to the Emperor this time, nobody claimed responsibility to the attack. Glaruindem remained silent for now, none of the new fanatical forces making an appearance in the ravaged city.
Amidst all of the chaos, the Emperor received a call from Plasmid Biotechnology.
"I'm feeling... nervous for the most part," Caelidorus admitted, tilting his head slightly. "But for other reasons. Something just doesn't seem right... and I get a feeling it has something to do with Soul. Call it intuition if you wish... or perhaps insanity. Sometimes dragons get feelings like this and they're rarely wrong. Although I hope I am wrong this time."
20-Mar-2017 00:04:10