Vendriks The Strider was cold.
Nights in the Cosmodrome were always harsh, with Taken, Hive, and all sorts fighting over the massive metal structure, but this planet's winters brought a different kind of ferocity to the frigid climate. The wind roared around the captain, and his cloak bearing the Devil insignia whipped in response, dancing in the moonlit night.
While Vendriks and his group bore the colors and symbols of the old House of Devils, the old houses were all but extinct. The house of dusk, which Vendriks was a part of, bore different colors, but he always preferred the blood red the Devils sported. The fashion came with a risk though. If another Dusk squad ran into them, it would be trouble.
A Dreg in his group came to a standstill beside Vendriks, and held out a pad. Vendriks grabbed it with his secondary arm and held it to a readable level. He growled in frustration as he wiped the snow off the screen, smearing water all over it. The message was from his second in command; a rather cunning vandal named Anarvris. The tablet read:
"Get back to the ship, you'll want to see this."
The captain considered the possibilities of what had stirred such a situation, as it was considered intolerable for a vandal to give an order to his superior. Until he scrolled down on the message, he was considering having Anarvris' arms docked once again. The message was a large scramble of panicked text, but three words caught his attention and sent a chill down his back.
"Its almost here."
It was a very vague message for most, but when Eliksni were involved, there was only one "It." Only one thing that even the highest Kell feared. Only one ancient evil from the stories they were told as hatchlings. Only one force not even the Great Machine itself could face.
The Whirlwind.
The Second age of darkness was arriving.
Vendriks shook himself out of his own mind and barked an order to the two dregs and vandal behind him.
"Mount up, we're heading back!"
They nodded and walked back to their Pikes, while Vendriks mounted his own. The hum of the machine below him always soothed him whenever he rode, but now, the soothing sense was gone, leaving only the cold. The arrival of the darkness was inevitable. As he and his team sped across the snowy landscape, he could only hope
that this time, there would be something left.
Nights in the Cosmodrome were always harsh, with Taken, Hive, and all sorts fighting over the massive metal structure, but this planet's winters brought a different kind of ferocity to the frigid climate. The wind roared around the captain, and his cloak bearing the Devil insignia whipped in response, dancing in the moonlit night.
While Vendriks and his group bore the colors and symbols of the old House of Devils, the old houses were all but extinct. The house of dusk, which Vendriks was a part of, bore different colors, but he always preferred the blood red the Devils sported. The fashion came with a risk though. If another Dusk squad ran into them, it would be trouble.
A Dreg in his group came to a standstill beside Vendriks, and held out a pad. Vendriks grabbed it with his secondary arm and held it to a readable level. He growled in frustration as he wiped the snow off the screen, smearing water all over it. The message was from his second in command; a rather cunning vandal named Anarvris. The tablet read:
"Get back to the ship, you'll want to see this."
The captain considered the possibilities of what had stirred such a situation, as it was considered intolerable for a vandal to give an order to his superior. Until he scrolled down on the message, he was considering having Anarvris' arms docked once again. The message was a large scramble of panicked text, but three words caught his attention and sent a chill down his back.
"Its almost here."
It was a very vague message for most, but when Eliksni were involved, there was only one "It." Only one thing that even the highest Kell feared. Only one ancient evil from the stories they were told as hatchlings. Only one force not even the Great Machine itself could face.
The Whirlwind.
The Second age of darkness was arriving.
Vendriks shook himself out of his own mind and barked an order to the two dregs and vandal behind him.
"Mount up, we're heading back!"
They nodded and walked back to their Pikes, while Vendriks mounted his own. The hum of the machine below him always soothed him whenever he rode, but now, the soothing sense was gone, leaving only the cold. The arrival of the darkness was inevitable. As he and his team sped across the snowy landscape, he could only hope
that this time, there would be something left.