‘You all go… I’m headed straight for the big guy. ‘ Hans’ first spoken words since Jubembo.

‘Are you fucking insane!?’ Bob yelled at the man who now stood at the edge of the building, his chest pumped out defiantly.

The General merely looked at him analytically.

‘You got pummelled and he didn’t even break a sweat last time! Not to mention the freak didn’t have his hammer!’ Bob stated, the vein in his forehead pulsating.

‘Yeah but I was drunk.’ He said with a smirk.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me, fine! Whatever, go get yourself killed, we’re all going to die anyway.’ Bob said in exasperation.

‘How are you getting up there?’ Gladius asked the rogue.

He grinned as he puffed his chest out then pulled out from his pocket an over ripe berry he had procured from the desert.

‘Come on fur nuts, we’re gonna take a ride. ‘ A manic smile spread across his face.

Bob waved his hand and shook his head.

‘Fine! We’re all going to die anyway, may as well do it your own stupid ass way.’ He said with a small grin.

A giant spherical pod ship descended from the red and grey miasmatic mosaic that was now the Capitols sky down to The Conglomerates Consul hall.

The consul supreme and the other ninety nine consul generals all marched in person to the landing pad to meet with the ancient deity

His face was like cracked concrete, hard and weathered, scrunched together to better face the turbulent winds caused by the countless invading ships warping into the atmosphere.

The pod descended until it was levitating mere inches from the landing pad. An ominous buzz coming from whatever technology it used to eerily levitate as it did.

The consuls stood patiently, awaiting some sort of action to take place.

The ship's face began to morph, the dark grey particles of whatever element made up the hull began to shift like self organising sand to form a staircase leading into a shadowed archway.

Out from the shadows he came.

A mass of jagged edges.

That made a hulking frame.

His eyes glowed like burning souls.

Holding Dar Guul he levitated downwards.

His intentions are as dark as coal.

He shrinks the hearts of both héros and cowards.

He conjures fear and brings forth tears.

Vol Drung, the long forgotten ancient, the elder god resurrected, cometh to reclaim his throne as the tyrant of true and unyielding justice, reigning supreme over the galaxy.

“I assume you are the chosen maggot to speak for your pathetic race?” The hulking mass of purple doom shadowed over the Consul supreme who was taken aback by a feeling of violent dread that seemed to extinguish any composure he had.

The leader of the Conglomerate pulled himse;lf together as best he could.

“I am Consul Supreme Everard Hawthorne! I speak on behalf of all races of the Conglomerate in the greater galaxy! As the ultimate authority of the known cosmos, I ask you this! What is it that you want?” He yelled as to be heard over the cataclysmic cacophony that raged around them.

The God began to laugh.

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“You consider yourself worthy to question me? Has this Galaxy truly forgotten who the true masters of this universe are? How insolent! Oh how far the crown of power in this cosmos has fallen to the likes of your puerile race.” His voice clapped like thunder and sent tremors through the ground.

The entire consulate cringed in despair as the divine beast bellowed.

“I shall grant you this opportunity considering as astounding as it is, you have risen to take the mantle of highest life form in my absence. As your ever merciful lord, I shall grant you the chance to continue your life under my rule, your souls shall remain yours to suffer with. Bend the knee on behalf of your entire conglomerate as you call it and I shall show merciful restraint in the reclamation of my dominion.” Vol Drung raised his arms to expand his figure as he proposed the ultimatum.

The Consul supreme, trembling all over, turned to his colleagues who all seemed to be in the same state of petrified acquiescence.

He nodded slowly as he bent down onto one knee and bowed his head, kowtowing to the elder god in a desperately pitiful display.

The other ninety nine consuls followed suit.

Vol Drung nodded agreeably.

“Hey tin head!” A defiant voice came from the edge of the landing, on top of the marble column supporting the edge of the building.

Vol Drung swivelled his head in an enraged hurry.

Hans stood atop the column on the highest point of the building with a smile on his face and the hynx in his left arm.

“What!?” yelled the god with such tremendous might that the entire continent shook.

“You didn’t think you were done with me that easily did ya?” Hans yelled tauntingly.

Without any further word nor provocation, Vol Drung charged at the man fast enough to create a sonic boom.

Hans just dodged in time by letting himself drop from the face of the building.

The god chased him as gravity pulled him down the side of the gargantuan building.

“Alright kitty cat, it’s your time to shine.” Hans said to the exuberant creature clinging around his neck as he fed him the transformative berry.

The little neotenic creature began to spasm before rapidly transforming into a giant crimson behemoth that roared as it grasped Hans and took hold of the side of the marble tower, holding the two in place as the raging god flew downwards in pursuit.

“And launch!” Hans said with excitement before the hynx flung the man like a bullet up at the elder god.

The two collided with Hans thundering into Vol Drung’s torso, driving them both high up into the air in a matter of milliseconds.

Sphere ships began plunging down out of the sky like a hail storm of violent dread as they descended upon the hynx who swatted them away as he heaved himself up the building.

Inspired by the unexpected retaliation, all remaining peace keepers launched their ships against the looming armada.

Heavily outnumbered the human pilots and soldiers fought valiantly against the endless onslaught of invaders, the sky now a brilliant light show of laser fire and explosions.

From the horizon came a fleet of human warcrafts, led by none other than General Gladius Lyanus himself at the bridge of an old battle craft charger, the Vorpal Rift Runner.

Bob took his place speeding in his glider with Jakaab squealing in the back. It had been promptly repaired and upgraded with Conglomerate battle technology, giving it the punching power of an asteroid shower and more speed than any comet in the void.

“Alright brave souls of the conglomerate! Make a path for the shield ships to make a perimeter and make sure no sphere ship makes planetfall! We protect this planet to our dying breaths!” The general stirred valiantly through the fleet's intercom, bringing forth thousands of zealous salutes in return.

Each individual willing to lay down their life for their legendary general.

“Hunter! We have to make sure that the forcefield is activated before we go after the demon! Lead the charge in clearing a path.” He ordered.

“Gotcha.” Bob said calmly before blasting his thruster into overdrive, drowning out the sound of his passengers' scream as he blasted his way through the tumultuous skies leading a group of small lancers, blasting any of the invading frontrunners that tried to make planetfall.

The general set up the Rift Runner as a defensive centrepiece before launching boarding parties and ground crews from its humongous hangers.

Meanwhile in the sky, Hans and Vol Drung exchanged planet quaking blow after blow. Hans dodging and parrying blows before throwing back punches and kicks of his own.

“You are stronger than the last time, mortal!” Yelled the viciously angry elder god.

He swung his hammer with devastating speed only to be dodged and countered nearly at every turn, further infuriating him.

“But you are still a mere mortal!”

He held the hammer close, making the centrepiece glow before he blasted a bolt of energy straight at Hans, who, taken off guard, was sent flying down to the marble building once more.

Vol Drung sped down to try and finish Hans only to be met with a lunging hynx who grabbed a hold of the god, spun in a flurry and launched him down at the building below, levelling the entire structure in a shockwave of white debris and leaving a crater at the bottom of where it used to be.

Where Vol Drung lay smouldering in the centre.

Both Hans and the Hynx now came descending onto the god, both intent on delivering the killing blow.

“Enough!” Screamed Vol Drung as he held his hammer pointed up to the sky, propelling himself all the way to the upper atmosphere in an instant, leaving behind a disastrous shockwave behind that levelled even more of the capital, blasting Hans and the hynx in opposite directions, crashing into buildings kilometres away.

The god held out his top right hand and summoned forth a huge sphere ship from the collection in the sky before entering as the hull reshaped around him, allowing him passage into the craft.