Everyone looked up as the explosion rocked the floating nest above them. For a brief instant, the crow men wheeling above them in darkness were illuminated, as the resisteel disk came hurtling down and struck the giant right in the chest, bouncing off him and skidding the smoldering remains sliding directly towards the legionnaires. It never made it to them, but it slid a fair distance, the interior billowing a black smoke as it came to rest on it’s side.
The impact of the nest seemed to snap the Giant out of its angry reverie and it once again focused it’s attention on the Legionnaires.
Nassim was among them.
“So dude, how’d I do? Not too bad if you ask me. There was panash, and there was showmanship! You should have seen it!”
“Noone asked you to do any of that but the last thing, and it took you long enough! I barely heard you ask me to blow the charge. I nearly missed the big bongo you blue figtickler!” Krasus said irritably, as he lifted his head to watch the Giants approach. It seemed to remember who stuck it with the burning blade, and it kept its eyes transfixed on Krasus. Thankfully the sand was slowing its progress but it would be upon them soon and once it was there would be no escape.
“I’m dead.” Krasus muttered, as he looked up and met the monstrous hybrid’s gaze. “Oh well.” He said as he checked his emitter pistol once more.
“Well I thought it was masterfully done.” Nassim said, but his eyes had a faraway stare and he stopped moving for a moment. Then he snapped back, and whirled around to face Potter.
“A word Potter if you will.” He said, and then materialized beside the Standard Bearer’s shoulder, talking into his ear. Potter whirled and looked at him. “Are you sure?” He said, his eyes wide.
Nassim nodded slowly. “I’m sure.”
Potter nodded and stepped forward leaning on the standard, as he addressed them. It was hard for the Legionnaires to look away from the Giant lumbering towards them as it slogged it’s massive feet through the loose sand, but they turned to face Potter.
“Nassim has decided to try the Ritual of the Behemoth. Everyone please take out your knives and leave an offering in the sand beside you.”
Moloch and Krasus looked at each other. “Ritual of the Behemoth? I thought that was a myth.” Moloch said.
Potter shook his head. “It's not a myth, it can be done if the enlivened spirit is old and powerful enough. Nassim is taking a big risk, but he said that he sees no other way. Now knives out if you don’t mind, we don’t have much time.”
Everyone took out their heat knives and cut a slash across the top of their forearms. Even Salazaar stepped forward and offered his one good arm. Moloch arched an eyebrow, I’d have thought you’d have lost enough blood today Constable.
“The stakes seem like an all or nothing kind of game.” Salazaar said, wincing as Moloch ran the heat blade over his skin. He watched as the crimson fluid dribbled out onto the yellow sand, and looked around to see all the other crimson pools created by the other legionnaires. Potter made his way around the circle and rubbed colag paste into their cuts while beginning to sing a hymn in a deep slow voice.
He began to circumambulate the circle, picking up the standard and stamping his foot in time with the hymn. The standard had a loudspeaker on it that picked up Potters hymn and projected the intonation at a deafening volume. It even caused the Giant to slow down its mad charge, trying to discern where this new source of sound had come from.
The smaller albino hybrids gibbered and skittered around one another nervously, as the sound bounced around the domed interior of the chamber. The Legionnaires followed suit and soon, the chamber echoed with the rhythmatic stamping, and the rapping of their knuckles on their breastplates.
Nassim vanished from their sight. “Seeyah dudes.” He said with a sad smile.
Suddenly a brisk wind began to stir, around their ankles and feet. The sand began to whip up and dance around them and the wind began to coalesce into a shimmering blue light. Potter raised his voice, bellowing a deep howl, intoning the words and syllables from an age before time. Moloch could feel himself buzzing with energy, the pains and cuts from his past fights receding into the background of his mind.
There was only the song, the hymn, and the rhythm and the power that flowed from it. They kept chanting as the sand lashed their armor and skin, closing their eyes against the tempest that raged around them, and none of them were willing to stop the song.
Suddenly a large blue form pulled itself out of the swirling center. It vaguely resembled Nassim and it was a dark blue humanoid that was heavily muscled with wild red hair, and burning white eyes. The Legionnaires’ song ended with a deafening crescendo.
Behemoth Nassim turned to face them, fully manifested. His face was brutish and frightening, with two long curving tusks that extended out of the top of his lips.
“Stay behind me brothers.” He growled and then lumbered at a run to face off against the giant.
The Giant was unimpressed, having completely recovered his composure, he roared his challenge and charged Nassim.
The ritual had completely solidified him and he dove at the Giant, tackling him and they tumbled in the sand, as they rolled around grappling with one another. They rolled over ranks of the albinos smashing them as they fought one another with savage fury.
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The giant struck Nassim on the chin, and it rocked his head back. But Nassim returned the blow by smashing his forehead into the Giant’s face. It’s blood streamed down. It howled and lifted Nassim up, smashing him into the wall, over and over again.
While Nassim did not bleed from the injuries he was sustaining, he did grow slightly fainter and more immaterial with each blow, with each bit of damage he sustained in the fight.
Nassim managed to hook a long arm under the giant’s leg and rip it out from under him. They fell together into the sand and Nassim landed on top, his huge blue hands around the giant's throat and he throttled the monster with all his strength.
The Giant squirmed and writhed around and managing to twist himself over the loose sand giving him the leverage he needed to upend Nassim and throw him off.
The pair stood up and circled one another again. The giant was breathing hard and Nassim had grown more transparent. Unless Nassim had a plan, the giant was going to win because he could simply wear him down.
“We need to help him.” Moloch said.
“Okay, but how? If those two start tumbling again we are going to get smashed.” Krasus asked.
“Let's stay far enough back, but if we see an opportunity we will open fire.” Moloch replied. The other Legionnaires murmured their assent completely enraptured by the fight taking place before them.
The Giant moved in and grabbed Nassim, punching him repeatedly in the chest and stomach, each blow the creature landed caused Nassims form to flicker. Nassim spun and ducked under one of the punches, pulling the Giants arm, and spinning him so that the wound Krasus’ inflicted earlier was facing him. Then without hesitation, Nassim put his hand into the Giants wound, tearing it open wider.
The giant howled with pain and began thrashing wildly around, striking Nassim over and over again, but Nassim pushed deeper into the hybrid, shoving his arm deeper into the Giant’s flesh. The repeated impacts to his manifested form were beginning to take a toll. Nassim was growing more and more faint and commensurate with this, his strength waned.
Nassim raised his had back and brought it down with a mighty effort, slamming one of his tusks into the Giants neck. Blood spurted and poured out of the wound. The Giant reeled, and staggered as if he was drunk. Nassim’s form was flickering like a candle in the wind, but he held onto the monstrous hybrid.
“Now is our chance!” Moloch shouted. “Legionnaires, to me! Fire!”
The assembled Legionnaires concentrated all their fire on the Giant, and while their rounds did not account for much alone, together they were starting to make a huge difference in the fight. To get close enough to the Giant without Nassim’s distraction would have been certain doom for in a few bounding steps the Giant could have been upon them, but the wounds inflicted by Nassim and the withering fire of the assembled Legionnaires were bringing it down.
It fell to its knees and then with a howling final gasp it fell face first into the sand.
Nassim, tumbled off him, but he was shrinking and growing dimmer, his form flicking in and out as he faded.
He was back to his normal size in moments, and the Legionnaires charged forward to form a ring around him. Potter ran up with the Standard. “You have to dematerialize now! Preserve yourself!” He called out.
Nassim smiled wanly, as he shimmered and grew dimmer.
“It's a bit too late for that I’m afraid. But you should know, I was always prepared to sacrifice it all for my brothers.” He said with open hands.
The Legionnaires stood back as the flickering intensified. Then the blue light shimmered and with a bright flash it winked out of existence.
“So what? He just needs a power nap or something?” Krasus said as he came up to Potter and Moloch.
“Its far worse than that Centurion.” Potter said, his eyes brimming with tears. “Look.” He pointed at Nassims offering bowl. It was cracked in half.
“That bowl secures the binding to the standard. It has been cracked, and nothing can crack it unless the binding is broken.”
“So are you telling me he’s dead? Well dead, dead?” Krasus asked woodenly, poorly concealing the shock in his voice.
“I think it is safe to say that he is probably stepping into the cycle of reincarnation as we speak.” Potter said with a bowed head.
There was a collective moment of silence as the Legionnaires mourned their fallen brother.
The small albinos began to amass themselves for a final overwhelming charge. The loss of the Giant was a shock to them, but they were recovering their morale and were beginning to move towards the ragged band of Legionnaire survivors in a swarm.
Moloch stood with Krasus at the front of the Line. When he joined the Legion he had always knew this day might come, and had witnessed many of his brothers fall. Now when his hour was upon him, he wanted to meet it head on. He was sadden by the fact that Nassim would not be there to greet him when he passed over, that was always a lingering comfort that he would be in safe hands should he meet his end.
But it was no matter, he would meet the unknowns of that life the same way he met the unknowns of this one.
He drew his voidblade and ignited the weapon. It hummed with heat and deadly purpose. He cycled his emitter in his off hand. He looked over at Krasus who was already in a fighters crouch. He had picked up a void gladius from a fallen legionnaire and was performing a few practice stabbing motions, pretending to acquaint himself with the nuances of the shorter bladed weapon as a way to work off some of the nervous tension he was feeling.
“What do you think they are serving in the kitchen for dinner?” Moloch said.
Krasus cracked a grin. “That's just like you, thinking of food at a time like this.”
The swarm of albinos was picking up speed, and they raced across the sand in their lunging hops.
“I heard the Head Chef was making pies for the officers' mess. That crust is so light and flaky and that mince filling is so savory and nourishing.”
Salazaar knelt in the sand, resting his huge old pistol in the crook of his handless arm. He cracked off a shot that took a hybrid right in the eye.
“Stop it, Centurion, you're making me hungry.” Salazaar said. “A slice of pie would hit the spot right now.”
“Well when we are done here, you’re joining us for pie.” Krasus said.
“Its a deal.” Salazaar fired again, taking another hybrid in the chest.
The horde was almost upon them, when a massive explosion ripped through the chamber, rocking the ceiling and blinding them with light as a gust of fresh air blew into the stagnant room.
Above them at a large hole in the wall, stood fifty Constables with a familiar figure in the middle of them.
“Fire you idiots!” Supervisor Rofoscue ordered.