Even as all over systems in the dire galaxy, forces of the abyss and the archailect clashed, certain forces moved in utmost secrecy, sworn to an oath of complete silence and imbued with weapons from the sealed vaults of the harbingers. These were discarded weapons belonging given to the harbingers for their services to the supreme beings, weapons even the harbingers in their sealed silence knew were useless to them, but to the average ruler and below?, priceless. These were what were bestowed on the scythe squad, a team made of renegades, each having supposedly committed one offense or the other and serving during the war as an assassination squad for the war leaders.

While their effects might not had been felt, they did precisely what they had been expected to do, eliminate targets of the abyss that were vital to the effort of the lords of the abyss. A human conduit here, a powerful warrior there, phasing in and out of random battlefields all over systems without even the rulers, ancients or brigade generals sent to bolster the efforts of the forces on said battlefield. It was a thankless job; one the council would deny and one that came with no eventual recognition nor honors.

Anala Redjaw flicked green fluid off her crimson blade, a weapon bonded bestowed to her from Xerxes sunburner known as the fell, the blade, a legendary ranked weapon, had the power to slowly drive fear and terror into your foes, burning them slowly from within like a carefully roasted piece of meat while leeching their powers, empowering itself. It was also rebellious, its conscience a snarling dragon hatchling when it had been given to Anala at the beginning of the war, then she had quelled its impetuousness with a single glance at the blade. Now it snarled at the mental chains she wove around it, seeking to gorge itself on the very essence of those it cut down.

Still, Anala Redjaw was a master closing in on the rank of a ruler with blistering speed due to the war, if she had been a part of the regular planetary forces, then house Dracon would had been bestowed with another ruler, and she would had been able to shatter the chains binding her to her father, Azar. Instead, she had been relegated to a group of misfits she considered mercenaries for hire, sent all across battlefields to strike like ghosts and fade away with no one the wiser. It was as shameful an act to her as the betrayal at the hands of her aunt, Hagan, the current ruler and lord of house Dracon.

She remembered bitterly even as she surveyed the battlefield, when the cosmic dragon, her ancestor and grandmother, Eses had awoken. Making her way to the citadel of luminous scales, a most perilous of journeys seeing as it was hidden among the runic stars, a system of burning dying stars that revolved around a moderate planet, tucked away deep in uncharted parts of the archailect where little to no living being existed. It was a barren dessert of a place not because it was devoid of other systems, even though proximity to the stars themselves were somehow slowly cooking the galaxy to nothing over hundreds of thousands of years, it was because of the raw powerful aether that ensured that nothing under the protection of the cosmic dragon could survive.

Her prized construct ship had begun to disintegrate upon entering the vicinity of the runic stars, only the timely intervention by the cult members of the cosmic dragon had saved her from an untimely demise. Apparently, Eses knew of her imminent arrival, which wasn’t surprising really seeing as she was as close to being a being that embodied with eternity felt like, she would no doubt have a few powers of precognition within her cadre of powers. If Anala had been expecting mercy from her ancestor, she was met with nothing but scorn and pure distaste. She could remember how she trembled as she bowed, hands stretched out in prostration and her head firmly glued to the ground. Even as she trembled with her legs tucked into her body and her body becoming drenched in sweat, the words of the primordial rang through the air, carrying regal authority along with it,

“You are weak Anala of the Redjaw, you were weak to control the base desires of your child, you were weak to plant your feet down when your father led them astray, and you were weak in actually raising a weakling, Vasanz” each sentence had been like a blunt pike forcefully hammered straight into her heart, but with her lips sealed and her ears opened, Anala listened for there was nothing to do when an almost supreme being like being spoke,

“However, one time only, I will help you, you will prove yourself, and should you be found worthy, raised to heights untold, fail and die, your entire line wiped from existence, if not by my hands then by the claws of Hagan herself” she had completed,

And it was so that Anala had been thrown into the scythe squad, handed over by eses through Hagan to Xerxes of the dragon’s brigade, the leader of the brigade her handler and sole person she reported to outside of the harbinger’s council. Surveying the battlefield, she realized just how much of a fool she had been to go begging the cosmic dragon, she was the farthest thing from being a mortal at this point, infact, to Anala, she was slowly becoming as aloof and cold minded as the very supreme beings who lorded over them. It was why when rumors had begun to surface of the cosmic dragon seemingly favoring the titan blade, she felt no small form of satisfaction, for Anala knew that whatever plans that Eses had for the titan blade, it was not a fate she would wish on her worst enemy.

Although as she reviewed the mission parameters given to her, she knew without a doubt that she was being discarded, their very lives being thrown away. They had been sent through the Nethervoid to the last known location of a physical conduit of Molrik, a place through which two systems connected, the system of the mutator and the system of the destroyer, Araman. Ordered to wipe out any forces of the abyss along the way, Anala and her ragtag team of fellow outcasts, each of them having their own reasons for being drafted into the scythe squad but unwilling to share. They were six in all, each of them representing each of the supreme beings, Anala represented Lotes, the primordial of aether herself, her second in command, Gudar death fists, representing the supreme of aura, Draulr.

The rest were what Anala suspected were the worst of the worsts from their corners of the archailect, Belal spell burner representing Vazyra, supreme of mana and all elements. A most despicable man, lanky and tall, half of the hair on his head weak and falling off, but Anala could sense immense mana and power coming from the man. So powerful that it had taken the overseer of his system to capture him, binding him in oaths to the brigade so strong that they visibly twisted reality. When Anala had innocently asked about what crimes he had committed, the haunted look on the face of the overseer who didn’t reply spoke volumes.

The next member was Yogur of the cursed armor, a defensive mantle that had been twisted with arcane arts to a terrifying degree. Imbued with the power to absorb the living essence of whatever dying foe Yogur had slain on the battlefield, the ascender on the path of the cursed armor had been able to fend off the invasion of multiple rulers within his galaxy to a terrifying degree even as his reign of terror continued. Again, the master had been stopped by the harbinger of Filvux herself, the venerable Eisnar who had sealed the mantle with her authority, throwing Yogur in the deepest prison she could find, only brought out for the duration of the war.

Sobar blood blade had been one of the numerous masters sworn to the true blade himself, mandated to the protection of the core worlds around the clan’s systems. He had served with honor and diligence till he had come across a cursed weapon, the blood blade. Imbued with its foul powers, Sobar had begun to grow in strength even as the blade began to twist and warp his very being. Soon enough his home world had been drenched in the aura and power of the blade, thousands upon thousands driven to bloodlust, entire kingdoms drenched in blood, continents lost. It had taken the timely intervention of clan Trueblade and their retainers to bring an end to the bloodshed, the powers of the blade sealed by Zane Trueblade himself, leaving Sobar a mess, nothing but a husk of his former self.

Bound to the service of Zane and by proxy Alastor, the blood blade became nothing but a feral hound let loose on the enemies of Alastor himself. Anala had a twinge of pity for him out of all of them, circumstances had forced him down that path and she could understand. The final member was in fact a mercenary who had joined simply for the thrill of the kill, Otaru fell gun, weaponsmith and assassin for higher. Bound to the service of the supreme of technology, Liakya, this android had modified his body further than any android had ever deemed necessary, bordering on maniacal and blasphemous, at least, according to those who venerated the supreme of technology.

Together they had journeyed across all five of the systems, following strict orders from the council themselves, for any form of deviation or resistance was instant, Anala didn’t trust the council enough to believe they were bluffing. Standing in the damaged zone on a small moon, where previously, a mortal conduit had been placed by the forces of Molrik himself, used to power the main conduit on the prime planet of Molrik where the forces of armada Molrik, led by the ancient thousand blades battled to crush the machinations of the mutator.

Perhaps not to draw attention to the small moon hidden by unholy arcane means, no presence stronger than that of a diamond had been positioned to protect the conduit. The council had found that out due to the jade lord, Lucirion, who far away from the system itself had been able to tear away the veil of protection shielding the moon. The scythe squad had been deployed in utmost secret, phasing through the Nethervoid and appearing on the moon, prepared to unleash hell.

Instead, they had encountered carnage, torn limbs of disintegrating creatures of the mutator, the headless body of the conduit and a figure seated on a piece of rock, sharpening a silver blade in utmost silence. The first thought that came to Anala as they had appeared, even as one creature of the mutator had scurried out in pure terror, running towards their direction. She had cut it down of course, even as it screamed in anguish, her gaze remained on the being that sat on the rock who turned in their direction. Ashen white face with a charming smile, clothed in a dark cloak, it had taken her a few seconds to even realize who it was that sat in her front.

Chilled to the bone as she uttered his name,

“Ajax?” she whispered,

The omega blade, the being who even the harbingers and primordials tried to cast out his memories like a bad sore waved at her, getting up and sheathing his blade. Anala flicked her eyes to the blade, thinking to herself how she was sure he wielded a golden blade previously, the blade seemed to have been leeched of the gold and any other adornment that it consisted of. The omega blade as he was known now stood up, walking casually towards them, his cloak seemingly dragging all the shadows with him. A chill pervaded the air as Sobar blood blade snarled, pointing his blade at Ajax who an eyebrow in amusement,

“What are you doing?” Anala asked, half in terror and the other half in surprise,

She had no idea how she had gone to her knees in submission, sweat breaking out around her body,

“Good, you all know your place, except that feral dog” Ajax said, his voice rumbling,

She glanced back to see the entirety of her squad on their knees, all except Sobar who visibly struggled, not from the presence of Ajax as she realized, but from Sobar, the real Sobar battling with the entity that resided within the cursed blade. Whatever Ajax’s presence or power was, it had bleached the very power from their surroundings, leaving them with their ordinary master ranked strength. Even their legendary ranked weapons sputtered and faltered in the presence of the omega blade.

Quietly using her aura that fizzled to tap into the emergency construct implanted within her skull, a sort of one time used to summon help, she found its very power had died, as if drained of all its energy,

“it’s useless, nothing of the archailect works in presence, not anymore, not unless you’re an ancient, primordial or harbinger anyways” Ajax said lightly,

Anala swallowed and faced Ajax, staring into the black inky pool that were his eyes, she shivered unconsciously again,

“Lord Ajax” she whispered,

“Lord?” Ajax said chuckling,

“Do my ears and eyes deceive me?, a dragon of house Dracon calling me, lord?” he said laughing,

Apparently, that was all Sobar could take as he snarled and shot towards the omega blade, Anala found her cry to stop the blood blade hanging in her throat, she could only watch the grotesque sight of what happened next. Krial, the blade of Ajax appeared seemingly out of nowhere, stabbing straight into the chest of the blood blade. Ajax held the blood blade by its sharp edge in his hand, the blade shaking uselessly in his hand as he shattered the blade, a deathly cry coming from the blade itself. Stabbing Sobar with a broken shard straight into the skull and then with his other hand, ripped the very head off the shoulders of the blood blade.

Anala couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but stare in futile terror, memories of the sort of treatment she had dished out to Ajax replaying like a tape in her skull. Ajax was a sworn enemy of house Dracon, protected by orders of the supreme beings back when he was powerless, and now that he had turned his back on the archailect, he had grown too strong for her or any other being save the true top monsters of the archailect to deal with. Ajax stared at the body in distaste, flicking the parts away as black flames burned them to nothing, not even ash or a piece of the essence that was Sobar remained.

She knew what would happen next, she had seen it in terrified preys as they became cornered, the moment when terror clouded all form of reason, a survival response ingrained in every living being. The other members of her squad roared in defiance, going for the omega blade. Anala shut her eyes tight as she gripped her crimson blade tightly in her hand and channeled her aspect, her bloodline armor encasing her skin, she roared along with them in defiance, submitting to her inner base anger.

The first to die was Belal spell burner, mana shards from all elements burst forth around him, struggling to even exist as he fused them together into a new element unnamed but potent in its destructive capabilities. Ajax stepped within the realm of the spell burner and simply slapped his skull off his head, the rest of his body exploding in gore as well. Yogur cursed armor stepped up next, wielding two axes, he drenched the air in the leeching abilities of his armor, seeking to weaken the omega blade, the armor screamed out in an eldritch voice, its form undulating into a semi liquid state. Krial punching through the now unprotected cavity of Yogur cursed armor, he left it there and turned to deflect the plasma bullets of Otaru, the shadows coalescing around him boiling, preventing the continent splitting plasma shots from reaching him.

Anala landed within the fray, unleashing both her aspect and authority, fully assuming the mantle of a draconic killer, blistering and burning red scales protecting her from head to toe, she unleashed her spiritual form, a coiled serpentine dragon that inhaled and breathed out fire in a whitish purifying flame, burning up like an inferno around her. Still with her authority creating miniature dragon clones of her form, all wielding crimson blades themselves, together with her clones, she sought to cut the connection between ajax and the device, distance the omega blade from her emergency construct. Little by little, Anala realized to her horror that her powers were losing their potency.

Even as ajax grabbed Gudar death fists who pummeled him, tearing his two limbs off his body, she realized she would die here, on a barren planet, no one realizing the Redjaw had been slain. She clashed blades with ajax who grinned,

“It doesn’t have to be this way” he said softly,

Anala desperately wished he had meant those words, but as she stared into his eyes, seeing the soulless existence that stared back at her, she knew, she knew that he wouldn’t give her an easy death. So she unleashed everything she had, aspect, authority, everything, aether quaked in the air with a burning fury as she unleashed draconic runes after draconic runes. Arcane power rumbled through the air, aether itself turning to pure flames as she sought to save what was left of her team, Otaru unleashing everything that he had, intent, mana, aura plasma bullets steeped in curses and runes that eroded, bound, and eradicated the paths of those it was used against.

Laughing as he caught up to Otaru, Ajax covered in a power Anala couldn’t comprehend ignored her attacks, his cloak shielding him from all the workings of her power, gripping Otaru by the throat, smiling as Krial flashed and decapitated his head, the same black flames burning his body to nothingness. Anala had seen enough, nothing they could do, not against whatever Ajax had become, not when he made everything around him totally useless in the face of his power,

A power she knew didn’t come from the archailect,

She trapped what remained of Gudar, bending her entire willpower to go farthest away from Ajax, shooting with all the speed of a master tearing across space. The farther she went, the stronger she became, her blistering aspect coming back to full strength as well as the homing construct. She could feel him from the distance staring at her even as she phased back into the Nethervoid, she could swear she had heard his voice,

“I’m coming”