Night light chapter 1 draft

Book chapter 1 draft

He was standing in a field, he remembered this field from his childhood, and it was a nice place, full of peace, far from war, completely safe in all aspects. He saw figures in the distance, part of his mind said that they were his parents; the other, angrier, part screamed through his mind that it was a trap, he knew that something important was going to happen. A image burned through his mind, death, pain, suffering, he knew instantly what was going to happen, for he was no fool, the creatures were here to take him away, to kill him, he saw that this was just the body of a young boy, the bastards, this would make things harder but not by much, there was awakening within the mind of one of the most dangerous killing weapons the universe had ever seen. The creatures picked up their pace, they knew that the “transit” was wearing off, their chances of killing him and stealing everything was decreasing exponentially. They threw away the guise of being people that he trusted and began to run straight for him, he looked up to the perfect blue sky, there was not a cloud in sight, the grass swaying around his ankles in the wind. Part of him wanted to stay, to yield, to rest from what he was. He sighed gently knowing that all the people depended on him to leave the oodleplex, to face the truth, to save them all. The pseudo parents had now reached him and drew wicked looking knives, ready to rend flesh from bone. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Embraced reality.

The eyes opened, they were storm cloud gray but were currently burning with vengeance. The man was something to behold, dressed simply in a thick storm-cloak with a hat that could only be described as one of a *daemon hunter. He was 6 foot 5, wore black fingerless gloves and had a strange scar running across his face. However the most interesting feature currently was the large arrow sticking straight through his heart and several blades through his sternum suffice to say his rage was drowning out the immeasurable pain that would of laid down even the most hardened veteran ,usually. The other interesting thing was the two daemons in front of him, both identical and completely terrified, for their knives were no match for the sword that was at his hip. Aptly nicknamed “the book on pain” many daemons had met a painful and terrible end at its edge.

*Daemon- a wicked or evil creature, not to be confused with demon which is just an entity that can’t be explained

They contemplated running when there was twin booms as a seraph level hand gun discharged, leaving no obvious wounds usually because there was no blood or trace just a large hole+. He strode forward, still consumed with an intense and burning rage. Quickly taking stock of the situation. He was in a room, it was poorly lit but that didn't matter, the room was bare, the walls made of treated arcsium, a dense and thick metal that was almost impenetrable, there was no apparent exit. Fine I’ll make one, he thought. He drew his sword and quickly admired its master craftsmanship, an alloy that shouldn't exist, one of adamantium, titanium, osmium and bastarnae. That and the fact it was wreathed an adjustable energy field. Made it the perfect companion for someone that worked in his field, he flicked the stud hilt of the longsword and the silver grey energy field flicked into existence, he then rammed it at full force into the wall and started cutting a hole. His muscles cried in process, they were mediating the standoff between an unmovable object and an unstoppable force. After several minutes the blade had slowly negotiated itself from start to finish. Damn the pain was getting to him, starting to grey out his vision and dull his nerves, walking was becoming difficult ,he looked up to the sky as his vision was failing, the aegis runes flashing in rage. The blood red clouds were rolling in, the blood began pouring, in the last moments of consciousness he sent the final signal to the sophisticated homer built into the centre of his blade. Calling in the orbital fleets. Taking his soul home.

+ antimatter is a pain in the arse ,but the explanation, the gun actually fired a huge number of anti-hydrogen molecules suspended in a stasis field, when the weapon discharged the custom stasis field would be launched and would shatter upon impact leaving a matter/antimatter reaction leaving literally nothing except for pure energy. A environmentally friendly way of dispatching adversaries, no waste.

His name is Vengeance. It used to be Amaryllis or Mar for short, of course that is then and this is now people used to say that inquisitor Mar was the pride of 5th fleet, straighter than an arrow, stronger than an ox, faster and more cunning than a Cobra. But then they sold them out, with all the advances made, space travel, dimensional holes, plasma weapons. Treachery had laid him down. Then again their betrayal was inevitable, humans always were weak like that, looking out only for themselves, their greed why they were almost purged from the universe. Why he was the last known survivor of Xenos species 01, code named Dreadknights, unique inversed gestalt beings, the fewer there were, the more powerful they become. Originally they were as common as humans, only slightly stronger and faster. As the treachery became more apparent, the more that died, the stronger the survivors became, when it came down to hundreds of thousands they could punch through tanks, shrug of sniper rounds to the skull, survive falls that would pulverise a human. As they fell into the hundreds, they almost stopped aging, the ultimate survival mechanism of the species; they could also do an atmospheric re-entry without a starship or dropship. Then when there was just the legion of one, he didn’t age, he didn’t feel hunger/thirst/fear. His brain had underwent such a change that h could manipulate matter around him, some people called him a psyker, others an abomination. All that they knew is that he should hate them for what they had done to his species, culling them leaving only Vengeance.
It was inevitable that they would come. Officially Xenos species 06. More commonly referred to as daemons, our allies, the Angels or Xenos species 05, said that even though they had little to no technology they were still the most terrible threat to existence. Initially this was laughed it off as a joke. However when the home world of the Atronarchs fell, they were all terrified, the Atronarchs were strong, very strong, their weakest soldier could easily lift a few battle tanks if they were stacked. Many called them Biped tanks because they could wear adimantium armour into battle and heft reaper cannons, a main battle tank weapon, and an punisher shotgun. The survivors fled on their intact fleet and watched sadly as the daemons stripped their planet of everything, a few hours after the survivors left their stricken planet ,fleet captains reported that the atmosphere was gone, no chance of terraforming, nothing left, just a barren rock, a civilisation that took centuries to build was brought low in less than 12 hours .They fell back to the outer colonies.

No-one could’ve known that the daemonic host would strike again, this time however there was only 200- survivors, the rest lay slain at the hands of the daemons, reports said that orbital strikes alone had slain over a million, the infantry so many more. But they were gestalt beings, the survivors were about as strong and durable as an average cripple. Many pitied the almost dead race, others bayed for vengeance, and others still the extinction of the Atronarchs. They were granted sanctuary at Pluto ,former home F.O.B of the Dreadknights  because of the unique terraforming that only a species of dread could procure, also as well as being one of the most desirable place in the universe it was a huge armoured fortress, impossible to breach, pleasing to the eye. Somehow huge bastions of basalt and adimantium, mounted with SLAY cannons, were nice to look at and even better to live near. Even though the last time they had been used was the great war when the boom was enough to deafen the unprepared and rounds could tear through a cruiser with ease. The introduction of civilians meant that they would now have to maintain the orbital/deepspace defences.

Then they hit Earth and Asgard, home of the Angels simultaneously. Then it all went to hell.