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Description
The facility was peaceful for most of the first night, had it not been for a stray Bobcat tripping the proximity mines outside of Clays isolation chamber (read: cell) then maybe the catastrophe to come could have been avoided, perhaps if Clay had not already been awoken by the torture of his own subconscious then maybe he would have simply rolled over and complained groggily about how difficult it was to get some shut-eye when people were using his chamber for ordnance practice. It is difficult to say, the world was full of these what-ifs and uncertainties back then, the only certainties being death and bank charges, both of which Clay knew all too well, admittedly a far better alternative to... well, we'll get to that later, what's important for now is that you understand how all of this came to be, so that maybe, just maybe, you can see what we did wrong, perhaps prevent the same from happening to you. Undoubtedly if Clay were here he could explain it all, maybe point out the exact point where things started to hit other things that may or may not be fans, but he's somewhat harder to reach these days, and I fear that we may never hear from him again, and if we do? Well I can only pray to whatever deities are willing to listen to the fools that caused this havoc in their kingdom that he is still the Clay we know, every bit the fool and not the Clay we try to forget, the bloodthirsty monster that lurks beneath the surface of his psyche. It's not right that it's come to this, I shouldn't be doubting him, he's gotten us out of situations almost as bad as this before (though admittedly those were his fault, and he did seem to take his sweet time doing so). I'm getting off topic, it's not often we get the chance to leave something behind these days and this is supposed to be important so I'll get to the point, we messed up. Somewhere along the events leading up to now we messed up big time. Or maybe we were always meant to fail, maybe this is how things were supposed to go. Maybe the Clay we knew had been gone long before this and it had always been that monster wearing his face, his personality. Treating us all like pawns in a game of chess, though calling us pawns would be giving us too much credit given the circumstances. But again, as far as any of us that are left can tell it all started the first night he left the compound looking a mixture of panicked and excited. You see, it all started a little something like this...

Work In Progress
Chapter 1

Clay sat upright in his cot with his back against the wall, his knees barely reaching the edges causing his feet to dangle just a few centimetres from the cold floor of his chamber. While he sat attempting to doze off once more into the never-ending torment of his own mind a small trail of smoke rose up from his fingertips, the fag he had been smoking when he first awoke now attempting to burn it's way through  the filter, the only thing between calloused, nicotine stained fingertips and hot embers, the rebellious smoke struggling its way to the thick layer of smoke that seemed a permanent fixture to the already scorched walls of the chamber he had been politely persuaded to call home while repairs were made to his previous abode. He hazily looked over to the digital clock built into the wall opposite him and grimaced at what it told him, 23:42, it was past his bedtime already? A shame really, the night was coming along so well, what with night terrors and a general feeling of unease. A voice piped up from the corner of the chamber, deep, husky, unmistakably coming from the proprietor of tonights lovely viewing of "If Everything You've Ever Known Got Fucked Vol. 2", the voice belonged to Clays deeply intimate friend Sidonus, because, let's face it, you had to be pretty intimate to be living inside of somebodies head waiting for them to die. "Those things will kill you. And then who would keep me company for all of eternity?" Sidonus' mocking tone wouldn't normally betray his distaste for their situation like it did tonight, interesting, something was bothering him bad enough to have chipped the old mans veneer of calm. "What's it to you Sid? You'd finally get your hands on this chiselled hunk of man-flesh, you've got nothing to complain about" Clay paused for a moment to let Sidonus stare at him unamused "Unless of course, there's something bothering you, it's not like you to make an appearance so quickly after one of our sessions." Clay smirked as Sidonus shook his head, sometimes acting nonchalant was the only defence to somebody who could make you never want to sleep again. Sidonus took a break from his busy schedule of looking disappointed  to chime in once again "Sometimes I forget just how incompetent you are, wake up a little, listen to the planes like I taught you. Tell me what you feel." Clay frowned, another lesson from Merlin eh? Well, the only way he'd let him get back to staring at the clock until the sun rose was by doing as he asked. Clay brought his legs up from the end of the bed and crossed them in front of himself, no matter how uncomfortable it was it seemed to help with the scrying so he did it regardless. "Any chance of a clue, oh wise one?" Clay muttered, bringing his hands into a triangle over the gap between his legs and pelvis "I'd rather not go into this flying blind again, not after the incident with those last hybrids". Sidonus began pacing back and forth in front of Clays cot, Clay didn't need to see him to know he was staring intensely at his posture as he left wispy trails and fading footprints in his wake. "It's on this plane, not far away either, that should be enough to point you in the right direction." Clay nodded slightly and closed his eyes, ignoring the now extinguished fag butt still clutched between his fingers, his immediate awareness faded until all he could hear were the sounds of Sidonus' bare feet slapping against the equally bare floor, his awareness expanded, slowly at first, feeling the ebb and flow of the compound, from the slow methodical sensors in the high explosive proximity mines outside of his chamber to the irritation of the guards on sentry duty on this cold winter night, he didn't bother to check inside of the compounds twisting corridors, he had learned from long ago that focusing on that many emotions at once was dangerous. No, further, to the north. Sidonus' voice echoed unusually passively inside Clays head, the slapping of skin on concrete had stopped, evidently Sid didn't trust Clay to maintain focus. He widened his search, moving it further north as he was told, he would have to if he was to see what Sid wanted him to. He felt his way past row upon of trees and the few woodland creatures who hadn't retreated for the winter, each of them serene yet somehow scarily alert, some would even search for Clay as he made his way past them, but to no avail, he doubted some deer could get past high calibre rifles or anti-personnel mines. Shifting his focus once more he came upon a clearing but... something was wrong, the air, the trees, even the grass seemed to be trying to escape this clearing, swaying outwards as far as their meagre frames would allow. The idea of something in the clearing being able to scare nature itself sent a chill down Clays spine, but being the resilient and somewhat forced man that he is, he attempted to focus just on the clearing. Yes, right there, do you feel it? Something is wrong with this place. It's as if the veil between planes is... tearing, but nobody with the knowledge to do so would ever do such a thing, they know the danger it brings. Sidonus' voice took on a tinge of worry, which in turn, terrified Clay, never in all his time with the creature had he heard Sid sound like this, not even when he had initially signed the contract with him. What are you doing, focus! If you lose it now whatever is down there may notice, and then they'll know where you are. Where we are. Clay struggled to re-focus himself, feeling once again for the trees. Then the air. He was about to look deeper into the disturbance when an explosion rung out from the one exit of his chamber, destroying Clays focus with an almost audible thump, though whether this was from his loss of focus or loss of position on the bed he didn't know. Clay picked himself up from the floor and got to work, if whatever was there had noticed his peeping they'd either be setting up defences or getting ready to leave, either way he had to get there quickly. He grabbed the series of belts and straps that made up the equipment rack he called armour and started filling the various slots and pockets, he grimaced when trying to decide which bag of runes to take. "Sid, how am I supposed to prepare for this if I don't know what I'm up against?" He stood back and stared at the duffel bags, letting his question hang in the air. You are going to purge this place. Take the bag for Deity combat, if, Varash forbid, there's a Deity trying to breach the plane then you will be ready, if not, then you'll be using overkill slightly, though it would hardly be the first time. Clay shook his head and grabbed the bag to the left of the one Sid suggested "No, a Deity breach wouldn't have needed focusing to catch, these should do the trick, buffs and de-buffs galore." Almost ready, he thought, Sid had chosen to materialise next to the door and had grown impatient "Well? Stalling for time won't change things. One way or another you will investigate it, under my advice or their orders." He nodded his head towards the main building of the facility and smirked. Clay slid the chest plates of his armour into place, making a mental note to fix the large dent in the centre. He grabbed his helmet and put it on, making his way to the door regardless of whether it had powered up yet, he could live without it's readouts and comments regarding his mental state. He took a deep breath and began to grin, maybe tonight would be interesting after all... GO. The echo of Sidonus' words in his head gave him the last push he needed to leave and he took off into a sprint halfway to the door, bringing his foot up and slamming it against the door, causing it to spin off into the minefield outside of his chamber and create a path of directed explosions and confused gunfire. He landed somewhat shakily and ran off into the path, ignoring the gunfire and making a beeline for the garage, as his bare feet clumped through the snow he cursed the fact he had forgotten shoes, it would make his sprint to the garage far more unpleasant, not that being shot at wasn't already unpleasant enough. H ran along the side of the building, planning to cut through the mess hall and take the kitchen exit as it was closest to the garage, and his baby. As he skidded around a corner through the snow, wincing slightly as his feet slid along pointy rocks and freezing snow, a soldier at least a head taller than Clay brought his weapon to bare and shouted at him to freeze. Clay jumped forward onto the man, grabbing his weapons barrel and bringing his elbow into the centre of the soldiers nose, cracking his nose into pieces and denting his skull ever so slightly. "Can't, no time, I'm borrowing this" Clay said a little shakily as he spun away from the now falling soldier, his buddies that were chasing Clay should be able to get him stable before he bleeds too much... maybe, either way, he had a weapon now, if only with a frighteningly small amount of ammunition. Clay continued his sprint, making a mental note to inspect the clunky weapon as he bashed his way through the mess halls side entrance, not allowing himself to stop, regardless of whether he hadn't eaten in several hours or not. Not that the food in here was appealing, though there was something to be said for a hot baked potato after a job. He shook his head clear and continued on, using a table as a platform to jump over the serving areas glass covering, he rolled as he hit the ground and came up half sprinting for his efforts. Within moments of his rising rifles began to bark from the entrance he had just manhandled, several shots sparked and bounced off the back of his armour, of course, his luck couldn't hold out, and naturally, just as the thought reached his mind he felt searing hot pain burst from both his right thigh and left arm, he swayed slightly at the unexpected annoyance but kept running regardless, bursting through the kitchen entrance and vaulting over the railing between him and the garage ramp. We're making better time than I expected, we may even arrive in time to do something about whatever's happening. Clay smirked and carefully opened the garage door, poking his weapon through the gap before kicking the door against the wall and pointing his weapon ahead of him "Knock knock?" he offered, not that it would be immediately obvious he was joking, what with the helmet hiding his expression and just generally looking rather intimidating with its jet black sheen and three points of light, one for each eye and one for the mouth, the latter flickering with every word he spoke. The bemused look that greeted him came from Alice, the only engineer in the compound that didn't frequently tamper with Clays grenades and as such the only one who was trusted to even touch Clays baby. "I guessed from the explosions and gunfire that you were in a rush so I got your car ready and even threw an ammo bag in the back." she smiled and stood up "Now tell me how much ya love me, Slugger." the wink that ended her sentence made Clay slightly worried about what else she hid in his baby but he didn't have time to jump through the hoops to find out. "More than you can imagine my dear, are the keys inside?" She grinned and nodded eagerly walking past him, smacking his ass before she closed the door behind her and made her way over to the gate at the top of the ramp outside of the garage to open it. I think she's trying to tell you something. "Oh gee, ya think? I'll deal with that later, we have places to be." Clay ran his hand along the bodywork of his heavily modified Audi TT and tried not to start dry humping it, for one, he didn't have the time and with all this armour on he might scratch it. So we have time to make sweet love to your chunk of steel but not the woman? Clay frowned and got inside his baby, which had been affectionately dubbed Epona by Clay during one particularly drunken night of debauchery. "Do I get on at you for the way you keep eye-banging the armoury?" Clay started Epona and sat for a moment listening to her cry out into the night "I've missed you baby" he added lovingly. You show this car more love than you do to any actual people, I came from the deity of war, what's your excuse? Clay shrugged and puled the door remote from Eponas glove compartment, clicking the button and throwing it back in. "Do I need an excuse to enjoy well oiled machinery?" he thought for a moment "Don't answer that." Clays face went from joyous to more than a little peeved in the time it took for the garage doors to open and reveal the squad of soldiers pointing rifles at him, the only one of them who lacked a helmet pointed a pistol at him and began barking orders, something about getting away from the vehicle and coming quietly, though honestly, since he started Epona he had been doing that anyway. He recognised the leader and tried to remember his name, Jenkins? Johnson? Maybe it was Johnson, he seemed like enough of a prick for that to fit. Clay grinned and gunned the engine, shooting out of the garage and through the open gate, clipping Johnson with his wing mirror as he went by. Clay stuck his arm out of the window and flipped him the bird, cackling with laughter as he drove off into the night. That was, until Sidonus reminded him that he was going South, not North. A quick 180o turn and he was back on track, though the confused look on Johnsons face was worth it. Even if it was quickly followed by quite frankly painful looking amounts of anger and a few potshots.

2
Almost According To Plan

Clay brought Epona to a stop as close to the clearing as he could, almost a full kilometre from the facility he had recently stirred up like a child kicking a hornets nest, except the hornets have automatic weapons and the child is capable of levelling buildings with ease. So... not really like kicking a hornets nest at all. Clay reached into the back seat and brought the ammo bag to the passengers seat "That's... unusually light, oh god what has she done..." Clay gulped and gripped the zip of the ammo bag and ripped it open with a clenched fist and matching eyes "Sid? How bad is it?" He held his breath and waited for the familiar voice to reassure him that the bag was just a little less full than it had looked.

It didn't come. Oh jesus. She's let him go out to stop... something, with a bag full of receipts didn't she. A quiet chuckle came from the back seat and Clay risked opening an eye, slowly at first, and then oh so quickly, both springing open at what he saw... frills and lace as far as the eye could see, a veritable mountain of Victoria's best kept secrets. He groaned audibly and lay back in his seat. "Goddamnit Alice. THIS IS NOT THE TIME." He took a deep breath and sighed for a long time. He probably would have sat there for an hour cursing Alice and thinking of new and exciting ways to ruin her had it not been for Sids voice piping up once again from the back seat. "This isn't that bad, if you were up against anything needing that much ammo it probably would have been useless anyway. Now come on, every second you spend being so delightfully wrathful is another second our enemy has to prepare." Clay nodded a little and reached through Sid to grab the rifle he had liberated from the guard back at the base, he didn't know what model or make it was but he knew it would spray lead death at anything silly enough to come at him. He flicked the safety on and got out of the car, but a thought struck and he stopped halfway, a smirk creeping along his face. With his devious revenge in mind he got to work as quick as he could.

Ten minutes later he was almost at the clearing, sprinting through the forest, leaping over snow-sprinkled logs and dodging branches with that same eager grin that he wore in the escape, though this time in relevant comfort. Clay allowed himself a slightly slower pace, if he still had any luck whatever was around hadn't noticed his peeking earlier and stealth could still be on his side. Admittedly after the ammo incident he wasn't hopeful, but oh well, it wasn't the worst prepared he'd ever been. Clay slowed his pace to a slow walk as light began to peek its head around trees to greet him, he couldn't be far now. As he got closer he understood why the forest had been trying to escape  the clearing, with each step every fibre of his being screamed at him to leave, to get as far away from this place as he could, he shivered and kept up his pace, crouching down behind a tree and giving his gear one last check, his armour was in place, his weapon was loaded and ready, his left arm and right leg still had some lead intruders inside of him but they'd manage. He suppressed a chuckle as he looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes, they were encased in their own armour, made of overlapping plates of lace and frills rather than the alloys he wore over his torso and face. Are you quite finished giggling over your underwear? Clay nodded and peeked around the tree into the clearing, what he saw was... confusing to say the least. There was an orb of light, suspended in the centre of the clearing, around it were tents and camp-fires, and what looked like a log cabin to the eastern side, the same side Clay had arrived from. He stared at the light and tried to focus on it, but instead of a detailed idea of what the hell was going on his mind went blank and he lost balance, having to grip the tree to catch himself before he fell. He shook his head and groaned slightly. "Any advice for dealing with a mystery cult?" Clay whispered into his helmet, the microphone had been turned off on the ride over, so only him and Sidonus could hear what he said, unless of course somebody was within breathing-the-same-air distance, though if they were that close they wouldn't have a chance to let anybody know what was going on before Clay could deal with them. Slaughter? Clay frowned "You always suggest that." It always works. Clay smiled and nodded, he was right, so far he hadn't met a cult immune to a good slaughtering. He pushed the revulsion of getting anywhere but away from the clearing and pulled himself up, using the momentum as the starts of a dash to the side of the log cabin, as he got closer to the orb of light he found it difficult to focus his thoughts at all, often struggling just to remember why he was here. He shook his head once again and took another peek, as far as he could tell there were at least 12 figures all standing around the base of the orb, which was suspended at least a metre from the ground, the orb itself seemed to be the size of the log cabin he took cover behind, with the occasional whip of solid light passing through the cultists, he took a deep breath and flicked the safety on his newly acquired rifle to singe-shot and strode round the corner of the log cabin, doing his best to look intimidating as he turned his microphone back on and pointed his rifle into the air. He cleared his throat and fired a round into the air, all but one of the cultists spun around instantly, causing the orb to shrink until it was no bigger than one of the tents.  "Ah, I have your attention now then" Clay started, practically barking his words at them "I'm going to give you all one chance, and just one chance, to come along peacefully for interrogation and removal from the aether. Any response other than a 'Yes please, let me just put my hands up come get down on the ground' will be met with any and all necessary force to put you down, do you understand?" Clay let his question hang in the air for all of five seconds before putting a round in the nearest cultists torso. Within moments of the cultist falling to the ground, the cultist closest to the now mortally wounded woman raised his arm and fired something towards Clay, striking him in the shoulder, at first, he thought he'd been shot and planned to open fire on the cultists, and then... he felt squirming and searing pain "What the fuck!" he dove back behind the cabin and inspected his shoulder. It took him a minute to process what he was looking at, it seemed like something was melting into his shoulder and then it dawned on him, the cultist hadn't fired a gun or a bolt, he had fired his god-damn hand and it was clawing it's way into his shoulder. Clay grabbed the wrist of the abomination and through it to the ground, flicking his rifle to full auto and firing a burst into it. He took a deep breath and put his rifled back to single-shot. "Great. Not just cultists, freaky as shit cultists. I think I preferred being shot at..."

So do you have a plan or are going to continue cowering in your panty-socks? Clay grunted and checked the magazine of his weapon, less than half, oh joy. "I'm thinking you knob-jockey, simmer down and give me a god-damn second." Well think quickly, theses cultists- "Freaky as shit cultists Sid. Get it right." Clay checked his shoulder, the wound wasn't closing quick enough. "Oh god, tell me they're not Fleshmancers.   That would just make my fucking day if they were." Well, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, they're Fleshmancers. Now that the orb isn't as large I can sense better, I couldn't tell before. Clay sighed and popped back out from the corner and was quickly lifted from the ground by a larger cultists charge, they lifted him from the ground and slammed him to the ground, bringing an elbow down against his helmet, temporarily confusing him. "Sid... I think he... she? Is trying to bludgeon me to death." Clay took one more hit before grabbing the top of the huge womans skull and focusing, causing her blood to begin boiling and her flesh to scorch away, blowing away in the wind as ash before she could even register the pain, but when she did, she felt it bad, she jumped back, pulling Clay up as she did. She howled and bucked, desperately trying to shake away his grasp but it was useless, his fingertips were firmly rooted into the temples of her skull. It was only now that Clay noticed that all of the cultists seemed to be wearing the same robes, white with a purple sword and shield side by side in the centre. Clay waited until his feet were on the ground and with a leap, he pulled the large womans head down to his outstretched knee, releasing her temples and collapsing her weakened skull with the impact from his knee. He stepped to the side and let her fall, cracking his shoulder and looking towards the other cultists "I guess that's the diplomacy dealt with then..." One down, ten to go, tired already? Clay grinned and fired off what was left of his ammunition at the only cultist who hadn't turned to greet him when he made his olive branch entrance, causing the cultist to fall onto his back, twitch once, and finally give in, causing the orb to all but disappear, now no bigger than a metre in diameter.
If I had to guess I'd say it's tied to the cultists life force in case of situations such as this. Clay nodded and sprinted towards the closest cultist, a smaller man, with a crazed look in his eyes and deformed arm. Though as Clay closed in on the deformed cultist his arm seemed less and less deformed and more and more shaped, it was then he noticed the glint coming from the end of the crazed mans sleeve "Oh no no nonononono" Clay skidded and dove to the right, turning back in time to see the crazed cultists arm come slamming down into the spot Clay would have been standing. The cultist turned his head towards him, flashing an unnatural grin that almost seemed to stretch his face wider than a human face should ever stretch. "I miissseedd, I missseedd, and now I'm pissseedddd" the crazed cultists voice eagerly shifted from deranged giggling to angered shrieking and back again, his eyes rolling around inside of his skull. Clay used his foot to springboard himself towards the cultist, reaching towards his arm, which now that he could see it properly appeared to have a a blade protruding from it the length of his forearm. The cultist spun, and swung the arm down again, narrowly missing Clays legs and becoming lodged in the ground, the cultist shrieked in horror and began tugging while punching himself in the side of the head with other arm, which from the looks of things was withered beyond any practical use. Clay took his chance and leaped again, this time bringing his foot down hard on the cultists elbow, snapping the limb terribly inwards and spraying ichor all up clays armour and helmet, which began to seep into the armour and ooze down his chest. With barely a moment between Clay ripped the the now ruined weapon-limb from the cultists elbow, bringing it, and the soil clumped onto it into the air before bringing it down and lodging it deep into his chest cavity. "There, much better for the feng-shui" Clay grinned and patted the Cultists twitching head, being careful to avoid his wildly snapping jaws "Still a little bit of fight in you, eh?" he grabbed the top of the cultists skull with one hand and pointed an open palm at a point between the other cultists who had began to advance on him by now, realising that alone they would be no match for him, all but one, the same one who was now missing a hand and from the looks of things an escape plan. Clay focused, which was much easier now that the orb had shrunk to it's comparatively minuscule size. With a thunderous crack and a screech of hell-fire the ground between the cultists and Clay opened up, throughout this process the life and very soul of the deranged cultist was drained away, causing his body to rot and decay prematurely and Clays fingers to sink deeper and deeper into his gray matter, after a few seconds several small gray hands gripped the edges of this cavern and almost seemed to drag the gap wider, swallowing sever al of the tents that had been around the orb, some of the impish creatures the hands belonged to prematurely climbing out and dashing towards the remaining cultists, though in so few numbers they couldn't do much except be crushed, smashed or otherwise dealt with. As Clay watched the cultists reveal similar weapon-limbs to the one now buried in his offering to Varash he grew impatient and stomped his foot, causing the crack to widen in one large push, allowing a mob of the gray impish creatures to pour from the ground like a flood of tearing claws and bitey teeth. Clay shivered as he was suddenly aware of the Fleshmancers blood oozing down his chest. When he thought he had enough of a mob to take care of the advancing Fleshmancers Clay ripped the top of the skull from his now withered and all but decomposed sacrifice and threw it like a frisbee at the last one, the breaking of the flow of energy to the gaping maw caused it clamp shut, trapping any imps not quite through between this plane and Varash, some would still twitch as their limbs protruded from the ground. The jagged skull fragment embedded itself in the Fleshmancers ribs and caused him to stagger back, clutching at it with his one hand, a look of pale terror on his face as Clay began to advance towards him, dragging the deranged cultists corpse by the weapon-limb still embedded in his ribs and shrivelled lungs. The imps either didn't notice or didn't care that their only exit and source of life had been closed, as they continue to tear and chew at the remaining cultists, mixtures of both agonised screams and wails and gleeful giggling and snarling could be heard over the almost silent humming of the orb as Clay passed it. The orb was not unaffected by this rapid loss of life, and with each bite, tear and rip the orb lowered until it was more like a semi circle that had been placed on the ground. Clay swung the limb-weapon one last time, tossing it in the vague direction of the final Fleshmancer, dragging the skeletal remains with it and scattering them all around the now bloodied and chaotic camp-site. The blade crashed to the ground a few feet from the Fleshmancer, pointing upwards towards the sky, as if it's previous owner was calling for salvation from the depths of Varash. Clay smirked at this idea and decided that yes, this is what was happening. He stopped his walk several meters from the final Fleshmancer and reached into a compartment in-between the uppermost layers of his armour and pulled from it his favourite magnum that he had scrawled "Smoke me if ya got me" along the barrel, and as such, the weapon was frequently referred to as Smoker. Clay examined his weapon for a moment and looked towards the cultist "You can't say you didn't bring this on yourselves, I gave you a chance to comply and everything." Finish him you blithering fool, I do not wish to be around these lesser-beasts for any longer than is necessary. Clay frowned, why did he always have to bring the mood right down? He shook his head and continued with his speech regardless. "You have two choices, you can make peace with your god and die in peace, or you can continue to give me that... really creepy look with your dead eyes and make this kill far more satisfying for me." he allowed a full minute to pass before opening his mouth again "Alright... I guess I can see your choice, well, it was fun meeting you ya freaky fucking Fleshmancer" Clay raised his weapon and fired two shots into the cultists heart, the impact alone causing the skull fragment still stuck in his ribs to shake. With a loud exhale the cultist finally fell. And with the task that the imps had been summoned to do completed, they were dragged, kicking and screaming back to Varash, the earth seeming all too eager to swallow them. Clay shivered as he wondered if the same would happen to him when he finally died. He shook his head and removed his helmet, clutching it's rim in one hand while holding Smoker tight in the other. "Now... about that Orb."