New Beginnings

General Lu’s eyes flickered open, and for the briefest of moments he knew the true meaning of fear. Fighting the overwhelming blackness that threatened to consume him, he picked himself up from the smooth floor of black stone. Faint lights moved within it, and for a second he thought he saw writhing faces.

“General.”

The voice was cold and leaden, lacking any humanity. It was a voice Lu knew all too well, and one that had resounded in his head since the daemons had first contacted him.

“Lord Nosfentor!” he gasped, looking up at the cloaked and hooded figure. Blood-red eyes blazed back from the darkness beneath the hood.

“General, you have failed us. We do not tolerate failure.”

Behind the Shadow Lord, a section of wall flickered briefly, showing within it the imprisoned shade of Garlugoth. The face of the tortured entity was skewed into a horrific rictus, lips pulled back from his teeth in a terrible, eternal scream. Lu shuddered, imagining the pain that trapped soul must be enduring.

“We have given you a chance to serve us, and you have failed, but this is not to be your… reward. Instead, we have a second mission for you. Carry it out, and we shall let you live, after a fashion. Fail…”

Nosfentor raised a black-gloved hand, curling his inhumanly proportioned fingers in a gesture of malice. Inside the wall, Garlugoth’s form began to break down, shreds of it flying away into the Abyss to be consumed.

Lu tried to keep his voice steady.

“As you command, Lord, so it will be. What is your will?”

“I wish you to recover an item for me. A simple item, nothing complicated. Do you think you can handle this?”

“Lord.”

“Good. However, we cannot let you leave us in such a state… you will require a body for this task. To that end, we are giving you to one of our… erstwhile allies. You will serve him as you would serve us. Do not fail.”

“I shall not, Lord. What is the item I am to recover?”

“Why Lu, I’m surprised you haven’t guessed. We want the world.”

Deep within the bowels of her citadel, Minax smoothed down the aging white silk of her dress. This had to be done perfectly. Months of planning had gone into the forthcoming moment. Months of laborious manual labour. Months of blood, sweat and tears.

Some of them had even been her own.

Slowly, and with great care, she lifted a head level with her eyes. It was handsome enough, but then that was to be expected. Her darling child had done well.

Thin bronze eyelids opened, and crystal eyes, a perfect copy of such familiar ones, stared back emptily at her.

All she needed now was to enact the ritual. Those fools in the guard thought they could keep her from completing this great task, did they? As if the decaying brain of her mentor and love would do to hold his mind.

No, the whirring clockwork, the crystal brain, the humming energy provided by the glowing shard of crystal at his core…

Softly, she stroked the bronze cheek, cradling it to her breast. A single salty tear trickled from her eye and splashed on the faded silk of her wedding dress.

“Mondain…” she whispered, raising the knife…

The thick gloom the hung around Britain like a shroud seemed thicker than ever; the result, no doubt, of the thick black smoke pumping from towering chimneys.

Where once had stood the Temple of the Virtues now squatted an ugly, black structure. From within came the sounds of hammering, and out of the door, with jerky steps, walked simulacra – exact copies of the animals, monsters and people of the world, cast in bronze and gold, whirring, clicking…And over it all they stood, side by side, the Daemon Engine and his ally, the Mirror Crackéd…

Dahak’s eyes snapped open. His robes were sticky with sweat, and he was lying face-down and barely substantial in the solen nest near Lakeshire.

“Ow,” he muttered, picking himself up and concentrating until he solidified. That was easily the worst episode he’d had recently – ever since the death of Kahoris, the visions and blackouts were getting worse.

“And was Jerusalem builded here, amid these dark, Satanic mills…” he muttered to himself, recalling the dream. He shuddered.

“Exodus, what are you planning?” he whispered, “and what is that thing helping you?”

Sighing, he shoed away one of the worker ants, who was trying to gnaw at his leg, and took himself back to his study. This required thought…