With a crazed smile, Xanriel watched as the Malignant Cells multiplied and grew, creating a wall of living flesh once more. As the wall neared completion, new cells, grown from their bulwark of brethren, formed and flew, launching themselves against the skeletons and liches, pummeling them with sheer numbers. As the skeletons met the assault, their bones were shattered, dense connective tissue surging through their bones, cracking and splintering some, or completely obliterating rib cages and spinal columns on others. The liches, hurling spell after spell were soon over come by dozens of cells, all beating and smashing them, forcing their way /inside/ the tissue of the liches. As the other two watched, one lich lost the fight against the cells, falling as they forced their way into every orifice, every wound, filling his body and mutating the matter there, in seconds the shell of his body had grown, then without warning, it exploded in a mass of Cells, hundreds of them, like a wave of corruption crashing into the liches and skeletons.
All the while, Xanriel gazed upon the condor as it tore through the cells, killing and eating them, taking in the corpses of skeletons and liches, in a feeding frenzy it ignored the wound in its undead side. The creature continued to grow and become more and more powerful, while Xanriel only watched.
The process repeated itself again, another lich falling, then the last, until hordes of skeletons stood fast against a sea of Malignant Cells. Xanriel reared his head back and laughed, a wild and deranged look in his eyes. His voice carried far, and though it still held the unmistakable tenor of his voice, all the warmth and compassion was gone, only the sounds of a raving mad man escaping his lips.
"Death!? You think you're frail forms can defeat my children? My creations? You will be wiped clean, you will join the masses and be living once more, and you will see the glory of Xanriel! Seraphim of Judgement, Archangel of Life!"
Calling upon his healing hymn, he once more cast the empathic bond, throwing it on his offspring, feeling their life force feed him. He stopped wasting his energy maintaining his immortal form, instead letting the shear amount of life force and healing energy surround and sustain him, his form unwavering. Wielding his Halberd, he spread his wings and took to the sky.
From below, the condor looked up. The creature in the sky was small, larger than the cells and skeletons, but still not large enough to end its hunger. It spread its wings and gave out a horrible cry, the stench of death and decay on it's breath as an ear splitting, sheer caw spread wide across the city. It took wind, flying to meet the meal before it. As it neared, it could make out the form. It was like a man, only it seemed to glow with delicious life force. Its wings spread wide, almost as wide as its own, though they were white, save for the tips. All along the edge of this man's wingspan, his feathers had become corrupted by some deadly poison, having molted and fallen off in some places, or turning into purest black in others. The man laughed, lifting his bladed staff high above the condor's head and brought it down in a plummeting strike. The great bird knew now it must have this creature, it must feed on him.
Xanriel's swing was too wide, missing the condor as it turned, flying beneath the blade and only losing a strip of flesh from it's back. It seemed completely unfazed as it lashed out at the angel with his beak. Barely blocking the attack, Xanriel rolled and turned, flying upside down beneath the creature as he made rapid strikes at it's underbelly, using the reach of the halberd to keep his distance as rotten flesh and cracked bones fell from the wounds the avian stomach, bloated beyond normal proportions by it's macabre feast.
Below the cells had finished with the skeletons. With no liches left to sustain there numbers, they quickly fell. Sensing their masters struggle, the cells reformed, creating a giant tower of quivering flesh, ever growing as it skyrocketed for the condor.
It's precious nutrients were being stripped from it, the condor was outraged. Bringing it's talons back and flapping it's wings hard, the engorged avian form lifted many feet into the air, before plummeting toward Xanriel, its talons extended in a raking dive. Moments before impact, a liquid wall flew up from the ground, pummeling the condor and knocking it aside before it could harm Xanriel.
Reforming into a quivering platform, the cells ceased their replicating, creating a grand balcony in the sky for Xanriel to rest on us he watched the great form of the Condor, stripped of it's flesh and feathers, wings battered and broken, fall to the earth. It smashed into the ground with a loud squelching sound, it's bounty bursting forth and covering the battle field. Spears of malignant cells formed around the platform and launched into the creature, pinning it to the ground and finally piercing its skull, guaranteeing its defeat.
Xanriel finally turned his eyes back to the battle, the platform turning to his will as he watched a great dragon, awesome and terrifying in it's might. It attacked what could only be Mavros, and Xanriel knew he wanted a front row seat to the fight. Responding to his thoughts, the corrupted cells formed a throne, Xanriel sat down and felt the warmth of flesh on flesh as his platform slowly floated toward the great battle.
The cells felt their masters call, knew its will. It wanted to be more. They would make it more.
We will make it more. We am the singularity, we am the corruption. We am Malignant. The cells thoughts resonated with Xanriel's, and as they created a cloak of their own bodies, small tentacles entered from the cloak into Xanriel's neck, spine, and brain, allowing them a direct link to his thoughts.
