Short Story: The Fate of the 'Clouding of Senses'

A twisted cult is boarding a void vessel and run in some difficulties

Hezghast roared euphorically, shouting a battle cry to his gods as the ramp of the massive entertainment torpedo opened, spilling its eager cargo into the cargo hold of the enemy cruiser. His troop consisted of nearly 40 followers, whom the enemy's propaganda apparatus referred to as cultists. However, they were not blinded by the false Emperor. No, their eyes had been wide open when the true gods were revealed to them. Merciful and all-powerful, they generously bestowed their gifts upon their servants. In contrast to the Ecclesiarchy, which promised salvation only after a life of deprivation dedicated to a corpse on a distant planet.

His commands were enticing and imperious, driving the lowly ones into battle. The few overwhelmed defenders were quickly dispatched, and Hezghast looked upon their smoking and twitching bodies with a smile. At the end of the room, the hall, he saw 10 followers starting to break through the heavy doors separating this room from the cruiser's brain. Additional troops took positions, and Zar'Gul, the medium, floated a few meters away, its birth eyes sewn shut but the eye of the gods wide open.With a crash, the heavy doors swung open, and Hezghast's lackeys opened fire on the defenders, quickly pushing them into a defensive position. Amidst the chaos of battle, a dull, increasingly rapid pounding could be heard. Metal striking metal... Approaching rapidly behind the defenders was a figure dressed in black. Hezghast barked a fire command as the figure left the defenders behind and charged into the room alone.

"By the true gods, how easily the followers of the mummy throw away their lives"

Just as a wave of laser bolts was about to engulf the intruder, several activated sprinkler systems doused the entrance area in water and mist, engulfing the laser fire and obscuring the target. Seconds passed, a faint flickering could be seen behind the wall of mist, and suddenly, blazing flames erupted from the position of the black warrior, consuming a dozen of Hezghast's soldiers. Those who did not collapse immediately stumbled, burning and screaming for a few meters before perishing. Hezghast's expression darkened.

Driven by righteous energy, the now defenseless warrior was engulfed in beams of light. Dozens of energy blasts crawled over the black armor, causing ceramite plates to smoke under the continuous impact. However, Hezghast had to realize that the enemy did not collapse, nor did he make any attempt to fire another promethium cartridge as he walked slowly through the laser fire. Hezghast felt a sweet pain, and the smell of burnt ozone made him dizzy. Murmuring, Zar'Gul spoke the old, powerful words that seemed to whip the attacker. Suddenly, the black-armored figure paused, almost imperceptibly crumpling. Hezghast allowed himself a smile. But the enemy did not break; he raised his weapon, and what Hezghast had just taken for a flamethrower unleashed a long barrage of almost fist-sized projectiles. The heavy projectiles bored into the psionic shield that the medium had erected, almost coming to a halt until their propellants ignited, shattering the protection of the gods and tearing Zar'Gul's body to pieces.

Angry, Hezghast urged the soldiers to bring down the fighter. Dozens of laser beams rained down on the enemy, which he seemed to shake off like water droplets. Under the concentrated fire, the ceramite of the armor bubbled, the wax seals melted, the floor plates shattered, yet the fighter mechanically loaded a magazine into the weapon and took aim.

Laser fire rained upon the warrior, and suddenly the promethium tank exploded, engulfing its bearer and some unlucky individuals who stood too close in hideous fire. Flames crept over the black armor. The warrior hesitated.

"In the name of the old and new gods, kneel and beg for a swift death!"

Hezghast's words carried weight. Imbued with his faith in his gods, even steadfast men could not resist. And once again, he saw how the truth of his words caused the enemy to pause. The black fighter sank to his knees, and Hezghast had to admit that the flames licking over the ground and armor gave the enemy a tragic yet heroic end.

Hezghast approached the kneeling figure, his heavy axe raised high, ready to give the final command to fire and continue with the conquest. However, unbelievably, he had to witness the burning body rise up.

"Pain cleanses the body, and I will bring you pain."

Hezghast heard an unexpectedly feminine and harsh voice that made him hesitate. The damaged armor's servo motors whined, and the burning warrior stood upright. Before Hezghast could give the command, the weapon in her hands twitched, and several projectiles struck his body. Small explosions spun him around until he crashed heavily onto the ground. He tasted blood. He tried to lift his arm, but it seemed disobedient, although Hezghast clearly saw it lying several meters away. His vision blurred, and he couldn't take his eyes off the burning angel who seemed to fire a few more shots before heading back towards the gate.

His vision grew hazy, and the smell of ozone became stronger. The flames in his field of view turned blue and strangely cold, the cries of his subordinates were not cries of victory. And the warrior seemed to vanish. In her place, he vaguely saw a naked, sensual figure. Skin so pale that it pained the eyes, and long white hair. The mouth contorted into a devilish smile, yet the eyes devoid of joy. Hezghast sank into a dreamlike sleep from which he could not hope to awaken.