Xanriel's eyes cast down from the sky upon the form of Morte. He did not need to see the being up close to know who it was. With his regained immortality, Xanriel had once again claimed the powers of a Seraphim. Wielding his Halberd without fear of unsummoning it, he cried aloud in fury.
A false god?! Did the universe seek to test him further? Truly these pretenders were an abomination, a plague of filth that thought themselves gods. The purple clouds around him, swirling now with the force of a tornado immediately ceased. Hanging still for a fraction of a second, unbothered by the winds, the clouds began to shine from within, a deep violet cascading from them. Then, without warning or provocation, the clouds plummeted toward the earth, darkening as they took in all the matter they passed through. Air particles, dust, pollen, all the particulates in the air were absorbed and reformed.
"Aflatoxin Plague!" As the clouds struck the earth with the force of a hammer, having become more dense during their fall, a wave of corruption shot in all directions. Like acid the stream of force from the clouds melted its way through the bones and flesh of the undead, tearing them apart into base matter for his children.
His cloak resonated with the awakening of it's brethren. Waking again, corruption seeped into the mind of its master. Opening his eyes and looking upon it's bounty, the Master and Corruption laughed in sync, a glorious afront on the False Gods. As it watched, corruption bore witness to its purpose.
The matrix and matter of the minerals that made up the soldiers of the undead began to reform itself into thousands of cabbage sized cells, formed of pulsating, gray flesh. Forming up, the sea of cells became an army of quivering soldiers, each twice the size of a man.
"Go my children, show this FALSE god what a true immortal can do" The cells raised polearm and shield, each an extension of the body of the soldier carrying it. Charging forward in silence, beating their weapons on their shields, the army of corruption fell upon the army of undead.
Slashing and hacking, each warrior struck true, cleaving the undead forms of skeleton, zombie and lich. Spells of death and rusted blades wielded by rotting hands tore through the forms of the soldiers, quickly 'healed' as new cells replicated and filled in the gaps.
Eight soldiers surrounded three liches, brought back from true death. Though the macabre sorcerers cast spells of decay and poison, the Malignant Soldiers surrounded them. In the last moment before the warriors came upon their pray, the liches threw up sheilds of magic. The warriors dropped weapon and shield and fell apart, becoming a massive ring of corruption that tightened around and enveloped the shields of the liches, before crushing the resistance. Becoming a sphere as large as a small building, the cells rolled through the city streets, crushing all in their path, undead or living. The cells bore no mercy as they swelled and took to the air, enveloping a Jade Dragon and corrupting it, creating a mass of cells that crashed into a skeletal behemoth like a tidal wave, toppling and crushing it before molding back into a sphere.
Xanriel nodded, his cloak extending the singular will of their master to the ranks of cells as three more units formed into massive spheres of destruction, crushing resistance as it came under them.
"WE AM CORRUPTION. WE AM THE SINGULARITY. FALSE GOD, MORTE, YOU WILL BE CRUSHED." Extending his halberd, Xanriel plummeted from the sky, his cloak of malignant cells spreading along his blackened wings and over his body, forming a quivering breast plate of flesh, denser than most metals. His Halberd struck true, severing a great skeletal wing as he rocketed past the false god. Spreading his wings wide, Xanriel used his velocity to carry him past a building and redirect his momentum, flying blindingly fast to Bloodshadow's side.
With a distasteful sneer, Morte flexed his shoulders, bone rubbing against bone and cracking as decayed cartilaginous joints snapped. He looked upon the Master of Darkness, and the deranged Seraphim in amusement as bones from fallen skeletons rose into the air and rebuilt his wing.
"Really now? That's your grande entrance? Pathetic." The false god grinned.
