The Boring-Train once a tool of escape had been transformed into a battering ram of war.
The Architect had stripped the passenger carriages. In their place, he had welded thick plates of Titan-Alloy (scavenged from the Abyssal Knight's sarcophagus excess) and mounted heavy machine gun turrets operated by the Vermin-Swarm.
Inside the lead carriage, the air was hot and silent.
Varian stood at the front, his hand resting on the vibration controls. He wasn't wearing his rags. He wasn't wearing the scavenger gear.
He was clad in the Abyssal Armor.
The obsidian plates hummed with a low, anti-resonant frequency that swallowed sound. The helmet was retracted, revealing his face, but the Hydra Heart in his chest glowed through the armor's ribs like a nuclear reactor, casting a sickly green light on the floor.
"Two minutes to breach," Scrap-Jack yelled from the pilot's cage. The Warlord of the Forge was sweating inside his hydraulic suit. "We are drilling upward at a 45-degree angle. We're aiming for the sub-basement of the Magma-Geothermal Plant."
"Why there?" Gorgon asked. The giant was pacing, the Crimson Paladin armor radiating an agitated heat.
"Because the Church fights with fire," Varian answered, his voice amplified by the Abyssal suit's acoustics. "They use Promethium. Promethium needs pumps. If we take the Geothermal Plant, we control the pressure valves. We can turn their own flamethrowers off."
Varian looked at his soldiers.
Behind him stood three hundred of the Iron Legion Vanguard. Dregs, mutants, and outcasts. They held their scavenged rifles with white-knuckled grips. They were terrified.
"They call this a Crusade," Varian addressed them. "They think they are coming to exterminate rats."
Varian's helmet slid over his face. The V-shaped visor ignited with purple void-light.
"Show them that rats have teeth."
CRUNCH.
The drill hit reinforced concrete.
"Breaching!" Scrap-Jack roared.
Sector 4.5, the Foundry District, was a hellscape of industry. Rivers of molten slag flowed through open channels, illuminating the smog-choked air in orange hues.
The Church of Purity had established a forward operating base here.
Purifier Squad 9 marched through the factory floor. They were piloting "Cleanse-Walkers"heavy, bipedal mechs armed with dual heavy flamethrowers and blessed-steel plating.
"Readings indicate seismic activity," a pilot reported over the comms. "Probably just the pumps."
"Stay alert," the Squad Leader ordered. "The Oracle predicts the Parasite will try to surface. Keep the incinerators primed."
Suddenly, the floor beneath the central turbine exploded.
BOOOOM.
Concrete shards the size of cars flew into the air. Through the dust and steam, the massive drill-head of the train erupted, tearing through the foundation.
The train smashed onto the factory floor, derailing intentionally to form a barricade.
"Ambush! Sector 4 Breach!" The Squad Leader shouted. "Burn it! Burn it all!"
The hatches of the train blew open.
"Suppression Fire!" Iron-Jaw commanded from the rear turret.
DAKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA.
The Legion's heavy machine guns opened up. High-caliber rounds pinged off the armor of the Cleanse-Walkers.
"Ineffective," the Church pilot sneered. "Purge the unclean."
The Walkers stepped forward. Their flamethrowers roared. Streams of liquid fire washed over the train wreck.
The Dregs screamed. The Legion Carapace Armor (roach shells) was heat resistant, but not fireproof. The front line began to cook.
"They're burning us!" Rix shrieked over the comms. "Need heavy hit! Need Boss!"
From the inferno, a shadow rose.
Varian didn't run out. He flew.
The Abyssal Armor manipulated gravity and void energy. Varian shot out of the smoke like a dark missile, hovering ten meters in the air. His cape of living shadow expanded, blocking the searchlights.
The Church pilots looked up.
"Demon class entity detected!"
Varian extended his hand.
"Void Singularity."
A small, black sphere formed in his palm. He threw it at the lead Walker.
The sphere hit the mech's cockpit.
It didn't explode. It imploded.
CRUMP.
The gravity well crushed the cockpit instantly. The steel crumpled like a soda can. The pilot inside was pulverized before he could scream.
Varian dropped from the sky, landing on the wreckage of the fallen mech.
The other three Walkers turned their flamethrowers on him.
WHOOSH.
Three streams of blue-white fire engulfed Varian. The temperature spiked to 2,000 degrees.
"He's ash!" a pilot yelled.
The fire raged for ten seconds. Then, it stopped.
Varian stood there. The cape of shadows was smoking, but the armor was untouched. The Hydra Heart in his chest beat faster, pumping regenerative energy to heal the micro-burns faster than they could form.
"Is that it?" Varian's voice boomed, distorted and terrifying.
He raised his hand. The Sun-Piercer materialized, called from his inventory.
[Catalyst: Magma-Core.]
The spear ignited with lava.
Varian lunged. He moved too fast for the heavy mechs to track.
He sliced the leg off the second Walker. SHH-LICK. He drove the spear through the fuel tank of the third. BOOM.
The fourth pilot panicked. He tried to back away.
"Monster!" the pilot screamed.
Something massive slammed into the retreating mech from the side.
It was Gorgon.
The giant, clad in the glowing red Crimson Paladin armor, had charged out of the train. He didn't use a weapon. He shoulder-checked the mech with the force of a runaway freight train.
The mech toppled over.
Gorgon jumped on top of it. He grabbed the flamethrower nozzles with his bare hands and ripped them off.
SCREEECH.
"You like fire?" Gorgon roared, the red armor pulsing with berserker rage. "I WAS BORN IN IT!"
He punched through the cockpit glass and dragged the pilot out.
"Sector secured!" Iron-Jaw reported. "Vanguard, move up! Secure the perimeter!"
The Dregs cheered, surging out of the train, stepping over the burning wreckage of the Church machines.
Varian didn't celebrate. He marched straight for the main control tower of the Geothermal Plant.
"Rix, get the door," Varian ordered.
Rix, shivering from the noise but alive, phased his hand through the lock. The blast doors opened.
The control room was empty of soldiers, but full of terrified technicians. They cowered under the consoles as the obsidian-armored warlord walked in.
"Nobody dies," Varian announced, his helmet retracting to show his face. "Unless you try to be a hero. Leave."
The technicians scrambled for the exit.
"Iron-Jaw, Rix. Get to the terminal. Lock down the pressure valves. Cut the Promethium supply to the rest of the Sector."
"On it," Iron-Jaw plugged his interface cable into the mainframe.
Varian walked to the window. He looked out over the Foundry District.
They had won the foothold. The Legion was setting up defensive positions, using the wrecked mechs as cover.
But something felt wrong.
"It was too easy," Varian whispered.
"Too easy?" Gorgon asked, walking in. He was breathing heavily, steam rising from his red armor. "We fought mechs, Boss."
"We fought four mechs," Varian said. "This is a strategic resource. Where is the army? Where are the Paladins?"
"Boss..." Rix's voice trembled from the console. "Found something. Data-stream."
Varian walked over.
"What is it?"
"This plant," Rix pointed to the screen. "It has a hardline connection. Not to the Union. To the Sky."
Varian looked at the data.
[Connection Established: The Celestial Spire.][Data Packet Sent: "Target Located. Coordinates Verified."]
"They didn't garrison this place," Varian realized, his blood running cold. "They baited it."
He looked out the window.
The smog above the Foundry District was swirling. The heavy gray clouds were parting.
A beam of pure, blinding sunlight pierced the gloom of the underworld.
It hit the roof of the factory.
HUMMMMM.
A sound like a choir of glass singing filled the air. It was beautiful. It was painful.
From the beam of light, a figure descended.
It was twenty feet tall.
It had four wings. Not feathers. They were made of articulated solar panels, glowing with holy light. Its body was a sleek, white porcelain chassis, etched with gold circuitry. It had no face, only a single, vertical slit of blue light.
In its hand, it held a sword of concentrated plasma that was longer than a tank.
[Legendary Encounter.][Subject: Seraphim-Class Angel (Unit 01).][Rank: Monarch (Entry).][Affiliation: The Church of Purity.]
"An Angel," Gorgon whispered, gripping his hammer. "A real Angel."
The Angel hovered over the factory. Its voice broadcasted on every frequency, booming from the speakers in the control room, the radios of the Dregs, and the PA system of the plant.
"ABERRATION DETECTED."
The voice was synthesized, harmonic, and utterly devoid of mercy.
"PROTOCOL: STERILIZE."
The Angel raised its sword.
The blade extended, turning into a beam of light five hundred meters long.
It swung.
"EVERYONE DOWN!" Varian screamed.
The beam sliced through the factory roof. It sliced through the smokestacks. It sliced through the heavy machinery.
The entire top half of the Geothermal Plant tons of concrete and steel started to slide off.
CRASH.
Dust swallowed the world.
Varian was thrown against the wall as the control room tilted.
"Status!" Varian coughed, waving away the dust.
"We're alive!" Iron-Jaw reported. "The control room is reinforced! But the Legion outside... they're exposed!"
Varian scrambled to the window.
The Angel was descending. It wasn't landing. It was hovering, charging its sword for a second strike aimed directly at the train wreckage where the Dregs were taking cover.
"It's going to wipe them out," Varian said.
He looked at the Sun-Piercer. He looked at his armor.
"Gorgon. Stay here. Guard the team."
"Where are you going?"
"To buy time."
Varian stepped onto the window ledge.
[Symbiote Overdrive.][Hydra Heart: Max Pumping.][Void Wings: Manifest.]
Shadows exploded from Varian's back, forming ragged, bat-like wings that spanned ten meters.
He launched himself into the air.
He flew straight up, into the beam of sunlight, straight toward the Angel.
The Angel detected him. It stopped its swing. It turned its faceless head toward the black speck rocketing toward it.
"TARGET ACQUIRED: THE PARASITE."
"Hey, Tin Can!" Varian screamed, amplifying his voice.
He spun the Sun-Piercer.
[Catalyst: Void-Core.] (Using the energy stolen from the Knight).
The spear turned into a lance of black hole energy.
"Get off my roof!"
Varian threw the spear.
It flew true. It struck the Angel's chest plate.
CLANG.
It didn't piece. A golden energy shield flared around the Angel, stopping the spear inches from its chassis.
But the impact pushed the Angel back. It drifted ten meters.
The Angel looked at the spear floating against its shield. Then it looked at Varian.
"RESISTANCE IS ILLOGICAL."
It raised its hand. It didn't use the sword. It pointed a finger.
A beam of concentrated light shot out.
Varian dodged. The beam grazed his shoulder pauldron.
HISS.
The Abyssal Armor an Emperor Rank defense was scorched instantly. The black metal turned gray.
Varian gasped. One hit and it burned the armor?
He caught the Sun-Piercer as it rebounded. He hovered in the air, face to face with a Monarch.
Below him, the Legion watched.
The Devil of the Depths vs. The Angel of the Surface.
"I don't need logic," Varian growled, the Hydra Heart healing the burn on his shoulder instantly. "I have hunger."
He readied his spear for round two.