(1107.2) One month later.
Ne`kell breathed in the toxic air that erupted from the Great Wall, smelling the putrid decay that emitted from the piles of the dead. Where the once Great city of Leoshire once stood—was now nothing but rotting corpses and ancient pain. The scattered bodies ripped to shreds seemed to number in the hundreds of thousands.
Ne`kell remembered when the war was nothing more than just a dream, something every Vatheran longed for and yet could not stomach.
The Vatheran had been living in an unheard of peace for almost ten years before the Kreeper Virerussy was released into the world of Valthera.
Nevertheless, that did not mean the Norse were not ready. They trained their entire lives from birth. Much like the Spartans on the planet of Lu’tn’atw. The Vatheran are beyond the weakness of humans, past logic and strength; that—is what allows them to keep going, past starvation, past their weakness, past their desire for war.
The War Lords of the land caused the crowning of Ne`kell. Taking into consideration that he is the last heir of Cheshire. Being the sole leader of what is left of the original army of the Norse.
Ne`kell led all, all except for the Citadel of Valthera, Duke Le Cherion and the remaining Li’onis clan to the far North. He was all that remained of Cheshire Norse’s family, and so was crowned… There was no volunteering—they were all volunteers. If ordered to jump into a hive of Kreepers with nothing but a spear… you were to salute and jump.
All there is now and forever will be, is overwhelming odds. The Kreeper army never separated their numbers; the lowest of their number has exceeded one-million. It doesn’t matter—a Vatheran against a Kreeper is a losing battle for the Vatheran. They are their food.
As they neared the Great Wall which was once part of Leoshire’s great city, its smell grew worse.
The Wall stands at three-hundred feet, being one-mile in length, connecting a gap between two cliff faces; its complete size is awe-inspiring.
The Great Wall, even with all its complexity and engineering it’s hated. Despised by the men of the world and considered a curse upon the surface of the planet. More Vatheran than at any other defensive structure combined have been slaughtered at the Wall.
Sensors within their helmet’s were already picking up disturbances a thousand miles away, a marching insatiable army of Kreeper were already flowing towards the wall like a wave of locusts to the feast of crops.
Implanted inside of Ne`kell’s brain rests a super-nano-computer, designated by the Mark of the Ruxin, CIX/109. It floods his brain with information—ammo supplies, current stabilization, metal and armor supplies and without even thinking about it or calling it to mind, the work required in repairing the Wall.
Behind Ne`kell stood the Five Generals.
Shilo Norse, a cousin to the Norse line, honed and sharpened like a blade. Bloodied with the seeds of war, and commander of ten-myriads.
Retuce C’eza, a man of bighearted complexion, smiling and joking in a constant manner, yet his fear always flowed from his laugh revealing his weakness. Him being the leader of the NSO squadrons. Brother to Tau-ajil C’eza.
William Holmes, human-male, general of the hover-bike squadrons, and a loyal servant to Ne`kell. Gifted in everything mechanical or operable.
Rosh Anson, a strategist extreme, having an uncanny perception of battle and of the moods of his men. He has garnered more than respect, nearing reverence as it were. Leading twenty-five myriads of men.
Amund Norse, a demon with a sword leading battles from the front line. Sworn into being a man after completing the Norse training at the age of ten, an unheard of feat for the time. Amund has the incapacity for emotions besides anger. He led four myriads of men, women and children.
Ne`kell switched to the input screen inside of his helmet and began entering orders in text form:
‘Shilo – VIIC/1) ‘Begin reconstruction of the wall and its defensive perimeters.’
Retuce – VIIN/2) ‘Search the exit hatches and interior escape tunnels’;
William – VIIX/3) ‘Begin mounting machine guns to the gun ports’;
The message was received in less than a millisecond. He merely had to think the words for it to happen, when he heard the annoying voice of the creature implanted inside of his skull called, CIX/109 speaking into his head:
“Shire, we have approximately seven days and six hours by the pace the Kreeper are traveling.” CIX/109 said in a languid voice.
“I know CIX…” The Nano smirked, he was currently broadcasting its human like “face” in the corner of his helmet.
“CIX, I want you to watch over the defenses, how they’re going and specifically the excavation of the tunnels as of right now, understood?” Ne`kell said trying to get a nasty thought out of his head; it was more than enough to keep it busy.
“Of course shire but do you not think they can handle their job just fine without me watching them?” The nano became more persistent.
“I have no doubt of their abilities; just make sure of their progress.”
CIX/9 merely nodded and its animated face dissipated from his screen.
Ne`kell watched the people walking towards the wall, climbing the netting up to the first level of the wall when Amund came up next to him:
“Sir, what should we do with the bodies?” Amund spoke fluidly without a moment of hesitation.
“Amund, have some men pile them up and burn them, there’s a reason why the Kreeper didn’t eat them.” Ne`kell said speaking through the helmet which echoed back into his ears.
“Yas’ser…” He said with a lazy slang the soldiers had come up with in recent days, He watched him walk away and on the inside wondered how his body was faring from the starvation.
He seemed like the only one that was not bothered by the lack of food, he could go far past the standard of hunger, and if he needed to, he would just eat the ash, but he already figured most of the people were already eating it.
“CIX…” Ne`kell said into his mind.
“Yes sir?” CIX said as his face reappeared in the corner of his screen.
“Who’s my biggest man?”
The man’s name was Zore of the clan B.M. and Ne`kell felt estranged when he saw this big of a man who preferred using his fists over a sword or spear. But what Vatheran did not enjoy it? Zore had a mutation of the bone, horns protruded from his skull, which was a symbol and a dark form: Dev’ishaga.
“Yes Lord Ne`kell what is it you desire of me?” Zore asked looking down at Ne`kell.
“I want you to give the men a little sport. I want to see if any man can take you down, is that fine with you?” Ne`kell asked with a solemn face, unmoving and serious.
“Sport…” Zore leaned his head back and laughed a deep bellow of a laugh, “My lord I will enjoy myself deeply.”
Ne`kell even wanted to to take on Zore in a match, but then he remembered he was a master of swords, not truly for pure brute strength, when he thought of something, “Tau…” Ne`kell said speaking into his communications circuit or ‘comm.’
“Hello Tau.” He said as she came up onto his view-screen, for a brief second his mind flashed back to Ail’liaro, a tongue severed by flame, and his woman. But just as suddenly as the emotional storm had started, it dissipated. “I need you and your team to begin work on a minefield outcropping the wall to give us a buffer.” His voice was straight and honed like a knife.
“Yeah sure, I’ll be over in a few minutes…” Tau-ajil C’eza, daughter of the Lord Li’onis, an expert on explosives, and unable to be trusted.
He flipped his communications circuit so that he could see her face on his screen. “Good I’ll see you soon then.” Ne`kell cut the comm. and started walking towards the wall, his legs bent to his will; but they wanted to, needed to retreat from her. But he wouldn’t.
His medium stature seemed dwarfed by the sheer size of the wall, where Ne`kell stood at the height of 5’11, the Wall seemed to stand as tall as the doomsday creature, the Jun’ix’even. Where once there were four walls, now only stood one with the death of Leoshire.
Ne`kell was waiting for the Aeon of the Universe the one known as Eon Genesis to report to him.
A being appeared before him out of thin air, metal flakes swarming inwards to create a being, the dark clouds turned an even deeper black and time seemed to stand still, the Aeonic being wore pure charcoal-black scarred armor and a black ripped and tattered cape, he knew who it was instantly, one of the last living Aeons. “Hello Eon… it’s been a long time…”
Eon nodded and stepped towards Ne`kell, “Not that long, I assure you. However, I must tell you that there is an evil coming, even greater than the Kreeper coming towards here…” Eon spoke with unnatural flavor, a voice carried by wind. “A being who calls himself Lord of the Vatheran, the puppeteer of darkness and destroyer of the Aeons…”
“You mean he’s able to kill the rulers of Valthera?” Eon nodded and strode sideways walking past Ne`kell seeing the future as it were, “Where is he now?” Ne`kell asked.
“In Veldimire, your homeland. Several Aeons have gone there already to try and stop him: Lunas, Rav’lu, Evih, and Salayja…” Eon Genesis leaned his head down after saying Salayja and suddenly Ne`kell could feel the terrible sadness overflowing inside of him. “They will die… L.V. matches even my own power, those four together can slow him down, but cannot kill him. I need to go to them…”
Ne`kell bowed in acknowledgment, “After you have killed the Dark Lord, please, come back to our aid Great Aeon.” Ne`kell said and remained bowing and with that Eon Genesis disappeared.
“I fear that after that battle, Eon will be the only Aeon left…” Ne`kell said to himself and to his Nano CIX with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll enter that into the log sir.”
“This L.V. doesn’t understand that the more Aeons you kill, the more the other ones fight on.” Ne`kell smirked inside his helmet and watched as Tau came off of the wall, his smirk just as instantly disappearing at the sight of her. “CIX, give this information to all officers.” Then clicked him off, and waved towards Tau.