With a thought, Nareth surrounded himself with black mist.
He spread his arms. A hum sounded around him.
The Psychneuein, hatched from Hrud brains on Viziole and living in the second layer of the Kingdom of Disorder, swarmed out.
A sky-darkening swarm of Psychneuein surged down, colliding with the rising eagle flocks.
The Psychneuein's crystal wings hummed. Their vicious claws clashed with sharp eagle talons.
The clash of metal echoed across the Dusk Moon.
Their fierce mandibles, which could easily pierce Thousand Sons and Shadows of Order armor, met hooked eagle beaks, their bodies twisting apart.
He perceived the Psychneuein he commanded. The psychic eggs they spread, the moment they touched the blue-black eagle heads, bounced off like hitting an invisible barrier, decaying in the rippling dusk aura.
Though the Psychneuein had lost their supernatural attack and reproductive abilities, he still made them the main force.
Without orbital bombardment, Shadows of Order would suffer considerable casualties.
The Psychneuein could be replenished in a single large battle, and they had physical advantages.
With a thought, the Psychneuein raised their middle pair of claws, clashing with eagle talons.
Their large bodies were pushed up by the giant eagles. Their upper and lower claws grabbed.
RIP, RIP, RIP...
Amidst the piercing scraping, large patches of blue-black feathers fell.
With a thought, black mist rose in his right hand.
He covered his face. A bone mask appeared, covered in mysterious runes.
The Death Consul mask, from the temple of the great wolf of death on Fenris.
When used, this magical item emitted decay that indiscriminately affected its surroundings.
He had left the black wolf Freddy and the gyrinx cat John behind to use it without restraint.
The "Mentor of Disorder's" spiritual energy flowed into the mask. As a third of his energy was consumed, green mist rose.
Ethereal light bloomed around him. Spinning inward, it collapsed, forming a slightly blurry, double-leaf bronze door.
The door's surface was covered in various mysterious patterns, entwined with an indescribable sense of depth and stillness.
With a creak, the door shook, opening a crack.
Beyond the crack was impenetrable darkness, like the deepest night.
Countless icy vines spread from the door, wrapping around the giant eagles like pythons.
Their blue-black wings flapped in terror, then were entangled by the vines.
Their wings rapidly turned green, pulled towards the bronze door, vanishing with terrified shrieks.
Simultaneously, as green mist churned, the specters obtained from void whales at the Kalium Gate surged out:
Blue frogs spat venom, burning dark pits into the eagles' dim eyes.
Pale crabs, claws snapping, tore off blue-black feathers.
....
The Bloody Chain on his right pinky glowed, restoring his spiritual energy.
He felt his spiritual energy drain faster, restore slower.
Clearly, this was the effect of the "Twilight Giant" uniqueness.
'Though it affects me, it lacks change, like a dull giant instinctively releasing power.'
The authorities of the "Twilight Giant" flashed through his mind:
'Primary authorities: Twilight, Holiness, and Combat.'
'Subordinate authorities: Strength, Technique, Gigantism, Protection, Devastation, derived from Battle.'
'Partial authorities: Proxy.'
The Dusk Moon and the giant eagles showed no signs of Battle, Destruction, or Proxy authorities.
The battle between the Psychneuein and the spectral army and the guardian eagles lasted fourteen days and nights. He temporarily returned to the Shadow's Sovereignty.
His ambition to obtain the uniqueness still blazed. His body and mind were not exhausted. His spiritual energy was not depleted.
He withdrew from the Dusk Moon because he had circled it three times, examined every area, and found no uniqueness.
He thought of the mural left by Etrich's ancestor, believing the Day of Decay must come.
Like Fenris's perihelion, when the Siltir Gate to the underworld opened.
Back in the Primarch's Office, he immediately heard Arsena Dunn's report.
"My Lord, the Apothecaries have tested the Sorbor children."
"Of the 119 children, 63 are male. 11 are Sigma grade, 10 are Tau."
"9 are Upsilon, 8 each Phi and Chi, 7 Psi."
"10 are Omega. None are negative-Omega."
He was puzzled. He had not checked records, but negative grades declined regularly, then suddenly jumped at Omega.
As he pondered, his Aide's comm buzzed.
"My Lord, the Dusk Moon has suddenly shifted and accelerated. Estimated to cause an eclipse in thirty-six standard hours."
"That is only fifty-nine standard minutes away."
He rose. "I understand."
His pumping ambition drove him to forgo rest. One minute and thirty-three seconds later, he leaped from the flight deck into the void.
His golden wings blazed. He flew towards the Dusk Moon.
On Vessor's surface, orange-red light rose.
The red star vanished.
Dusk fell.
Trees rapidly dimmed. Branches fell.
Beasts grew weak. Their fur wrinkled. Their claws knotted with age.
No one noticed the children in Vessorine wombs. Their Warp projections turned orange-red, then collapsed into points of black holes.
As the Day of Decay began, orange-red light flooded the Dusk Moon and Vessor.
Amidst the sky-filling orange-red light, a golden, blazing light tore through the void.
Black mist rose in the "Mentor of Disorder's" eyes. The source's power was leveraged. The source's energy seeped into reality.
As the mist churned, his obsidian eyes caught a flash of bright orange-red.
His wings beat. He turned, flying towards it.
SWOOSH, SWOOSH, SWOOSH...
Thousands of giant eagles rose, howling, charging.
With a thought, the remaining hundreds of Psychneuein swarmed out.
The bone mask covered his face. The bronze door opened. Over a thousand specters, including over three hundred blue-black eagles, surged out.
The "Mentor of Disorder" channeled all his spiritual energy into the Death Consul mask. Two beams of grey-white, withering light shot from his black eyes.
Where the light passed, blue-green feathers turned to ash in the grey-white flames, revealing grey skeletons.
The grey bones clattered onto the orange-red surface.
In his vision, the orange-red surface was layers of grey-black threads.
The only thing shining with orange-red light was a massive greatsword, its surface covered with orange-red light.
Within it, vaguely, was embodied dusk.
He raced along the temporary path opened by the mask, charging at the orange-red greatsword.
The surface of his armor, forged by Vulkan and modified by Malvoleus, rapidly rusted.
He felt himself age a thousand years with each breath.
The Perpetual endured aging, millennium after millennium.
The feeling lasted only an instant, then dissipated in his immortal body.
The orange-red greatsword rapidly grew closer in his obsidian eyes. He reached out his right hand.
SHHH, SHHH...
Black armor crumbled, as if exposed to the elements for ten millennia.
Black mist rose in his right palm. He grabbed the greatsword's hilt.
The next instant, it vanished.
"Finally, I have obtained my first uniqueness on my own."
He whispered joyfully. He felt his body exposed to the night sky. With a thought, living metal rapidly liquefied and spread, covering his form.
"Though I lost all the Psychneuein and specters, and Vulkan's armor, it was worth it."
"Ferrus, I hope you have forged my new armor."
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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